Istuion
(#4445500)
Level 1 Fae
Familiar
Magma Embear
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Male Fae
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
0.64 m
Wingspan
0.76 m
Weight
1.27 kg
Genetics
Splash
Tiger
Tiger
Sky
Eye Spots
Eye Spots
Blue
Gembond
Gembond
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Fae
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
7
VIT
7
MND
7
Biography
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Mate: None Favorite Food: 
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***Violence, child abuse & child death trigger warnings!!!*** Clan Selbie had been collectively browsing the Auction House when one of the nameless wandered into a large, dirty, patched up tent. There they found a pitiful, heart-wrenching sight. Hundreds of hatchlings chained to the ground, straining against their holds or laying, malnourished and shaking on the rock-hard dirt. A stench permeated the entire place, one of rot and disease. It was patrolled by cruel-looking adult dragons with sneers or loathing frowns on their faces. The nameless could only stand there watching as a motionless hatchling was snatched up by its tail and thrown into a nauseating pile of rotting bodies. It was a number of minutes before one of the "guards" noticed the intruder, and she stalked up to them, stopping much to close for comfort. Her breath smelled of blood and rotting flesh, all four yellow eyes narrowed and teeth bared. "You c'n pick one. No more or we'll beat'cha." |
The nameless swallowed bile and nodded, close to tears. She glanced away in a panic, not caring for dominance games under the current circumstances. Her eye caught a tiny, limp-furred tundra hatchling, the relative healthy blue of his fur contrasting with the sickly faded colours of the dying infants around him. His pleading pink eyes filled with tears and he started shaking before the nameless stumbled over and grabbed him with both paws.
"Th-this one!" They cried, letting out a sob.
"Thant'un's forty-five 'undred tresh. Pay n' get out." The mirror slurred back, obviously reveling in the misery her "workplace" was causing.
The nameless dragon dug into their pouch, tossing the coins at the horrible, cruel murderer. They scrambled through the tent flap and flipped the poor infant onto their back, sprinting full speed back to their matriarch, sobbing the whole way. By the time they found her, they were gasping for breath and still choking on tears. The Fae noticed them with a dramatic flare of her frills, immediately turning to offer as much comfort as her monotone voice would allow.
"Clanchild, what's the matter." A flick of her larger left frill. She reached to touch the nameless dragon's wet face. "It'll be alright, shh, child." Her smallest frills lowered and angled forward, head tilting slightly. "You're crying, you can't breathe... and what is that." Again, a flick of the left frill, and another. "Is that a hatching." Her eyes widened and all her frills were flared and forward again.
"M-matriarch, th-the filthy t-tent... The st-starvi-ing babies-- I- I couldn't do anything, they only let me b-buy one..." The nameless stammered, sniffling. "H-he was only fourty-five hu-undred..." Their head fell in submission to the tiny Fae.
"Child, I'm not upset." Her frills all fell halfway, the smaller ones bending forward once more. "I understand it can be hard to sense my emotions as you cannot read my frills, but you're very brave to save this infant." The small frills fluttered, rising a little, and her head tilted forward to touch her clan member's nose. She continued, raising her head and lowering her frills with widened eyes. "Let him down and we'll see about feeding him and fixing him up right."
The Fae's face fell when her nameless companion lowered him to the ground, a rare sight for any but herself. She held out her wing-hand for the baby to sniff, but got no reaction past a sad blink, and her expression darkened further, frills flat against her neck.
"We need to change him up a little to save him, but he may be injured in the process..." A hint of regret slipped past her monotone, frills pushing to conform to her neck's curve. The nameless nodded sadly and returned the sickly hatchling to their shoulders.
The sun filtered brightly through the waves, casting rippling shadows on the coral-covered outer walls of the lair. A blue-toned Fae hatchling slipped through the eye-socket of an algae-covered skull and swum deftly to the surface, drawing a breath and returning to the depths. He fluttered into a large hole in the wall and used his claws to navigate narrow passageways until he found himself in a large room, sunlight filtering in through a multitude of openings in the ceiling. His frills flared forward before he himself dashed up to the surface again, thrilled at discovering new ways to get in and out of the extensive lair of Clan Selbie.
After the nameless dragon had saved him from the discount tent, the hatchling had been taken back to the clan's lair and had two special scrolls read to him. One bestowed him with a special kind of gembond, the stones having the ability to store oxygen so he could stay underwater longer. The second was what really helped. With his tundra body starving, only a smaller body could survive the lower nutrient levels in his blood. He passed out after about half the second scroll was read, but when he woke up he could finally move.
Having been a tundra before, he didn't speak with the trademark Fae monotone, but his frills instinctually moved on their own. He found when he was happy, they would flare up and forward (mighty inconvenient for swimming, he discovered) and when he was upset, they would crumple down to his neck. If he concentrated, he could move the frills himself, but that was a lot of work, so he mostly left them to do their own thing.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a set of claws gently gripping his tail. His heart beat faster; flashbacks of the auction tent blinded his vision for a moment before he realized it was only his matriarch. She surfaced, letting her water flight magic seep out of her lungs as air filled them instead. Her frills shook themselves off and flared up and back, she was happy to see him, but slightly worried.
"Did you eat today, Istuion." Her left frill twitched, questioning, the other dropping by one notch. He was starting to pick up the frill-language better each day, and it excited him to finally understand his matriarch.
"I did! An entire beetle, like you said!" He trilled happily, and the adult Fae's smaller right frill dropped two notches, the other raising the same amount. It was akin to an eyeroll, and Istuion laughed. "You sometimes put tone in your voice, don't tilt at me!"
At this, the matriarch's frills all tilted back, half-masted in offense. "Only when I feel very strongly, youngling, and you should try to do the same." The young fae laughed again, pink eyes gleaming and offered a "yeah, later" before diving back into the lair.
He'd get used to the frills, but he didn't think he'd ever lose his vocal tone.
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Feed this dragon Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Istuion to the service of the Tidelord will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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