(Starting lair crazycritter1) - Not my dragon I just don't have the heart to exalt him because he's not mine? But it's literally been years? Should I feel guilty?

Bluemist is a carefree, young kind dragon. He is quite popular, but it doesn't go to his head at all. He has yet to find a mate, and would love any familiar friend. He loves collecting things to wear, and really wants to meet lots of different dragons. He is funny and energetic and loves to play with hatchlings.

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eliriel clan

Travelling across the expanse of green, Bluemist encountered a group of dragons working as guards for a noble. There he spent a few months in the company of dragons with a large variety of skills, becoming something of an intern to assist them. From fighters, cooks and entertainers, he has a learnt a thing or two of their trade. Although, thanks to his charisma, he found working alongside a jester the most easiest job to pick up. As a parting gift the Jester has given him a Jester's cap.

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FrogTea's clan

Exploring the frozen peaks of the Sounthern Icefield, Bluemist found a lovely-looking female skydancer sitting by a cave. She welcomed him with a warm smile and with ghost flame candles hovering around her, asked him to see what's happening in the cave. There were hatchlings playing roughly with one another, other dragons greeting other dragons, and much more. "Stay here as long as you'd like," the female skydancer said. "Oh, my name? I'm Aquilline..." she blushed faintly. "Enjoy your time here... there's plenty of food to go around!" Bluemist stayed there for a couple of weeks, didn't really enjoy the environment, but did enjoy the company of the other dragons. For visiting, he has been awarded Dustrunner's Arctic Boots.

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Clan Improbable (seige)

The magnificent Imperial was alarmingly still in the sheltered alcove of boulders. Merion, Circee, and Contusia shooed the onlookers and first responders away. Their curiosity was understandable -- it was seldom that such a creature fell from the sky -- but the three healers needed room.

“Shallow respirations, strong pulse,” Merion announced.

Circee hovered over a scorched mark on the patient’s right temple. “Lightning strike, here. Look for others, Contusia.” she called out to the youngest healer on the team.

Contusia lifted into the air and scanned for any other burn marks on the ice colored body and wings. “He’s clear, unless he’s laying on them,” the black and blue Coatl reported in her strange accent. “I’ll go get the coils,” and she flew away in the direction of the compound of Clan Improbable.

Merion settled to monitor the Imperial while they waited.

“He’s lucky to be alive, few dragons not born to the Lightning could survive a strike to the head,” Merion stated after a few minutes of silent watching.

“One of his parents must have been Lightning, otherwise there would be nothing to do. Sometimes a partial immunity can be passed on,” Circee mused as she lifted one of the patient’s eyelids. “Shadow. Explains travelling during the time of the mimics.”

Contusia returned then with Yeti Brawler, who was carrying a large box. “Thanks, YB. You may return to the compound now.”

Yeti grunted and ambled away. The healers moved quickly to space 6 coils on the Imperial’s body and wings. Contusia arranged herself amid the coils. As a Lightning healer, only she could do this part, but she was nervous -- she had read of this and practiced it, but never actually done it.

Circee said, “Touch all the coils at the exact same moment. One with each arm and leg, one with your head and one with your tail. You can do this. Just like you’ve practiced.”

Contusia took a deep breath to clear her mind and made contact with all the coils simultaneously. Arcs of blue electricity discharged into the air from the coils. Ozone scented the air. The Imperial’s body twitched and spasmed. The Coatl quivered, but maintained contact.

Merion cried out, “Good. Just a few more seconds . . . and release.”

Contusia drew in her appendages and curled into a ball while the others swiftly moved the coils. The Coatl slid to the ground. “I did it! I feel like I won’t sleep for days, but I did it.”

Circees frills fluttered, “Just be careful not to touch anyone not born to Lightning for a few days. But you did well.”

Merion interrupted, “Yes, the continuing damage has been stopped,but now we must all work an Aid spell. To heal the damage that was already done. Meditate at least three times, first.”

Circee nodded, “Now.”

The Pearlcatcher, Fae, and Coatl all cast Aid at once, focused on the limp Imperial.

Purple eyes fluttered open, “Ow! My head hurts,” he croaked.

Merion nodded to Circee and Contusia to cast again. He smiled at the Imperial, “Don’t try to talk too much just yet. I am Merion. You were struck by Lightning, but you should be feeling better soon. What’s your name?”

The Imp blinked rapidly as the magic flowed through him, “Bluemist. But shouldn’t I be dead?”

Merion and Contusia cast Aid again.

Circee fluttered up to check the fading burn mark, “Well, Bluemist, we can explain everything when you’re a little stronger. Meanwhile, welcome to Clan Improbable.”

Gifted: Blue Tang Hippogriff

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"Geez, it's awful out there! Thanks for letting me in," Blue Mist wheezed as he scrambled inside just as a flash of lightning cracked the sky into tiny fragments. The thunder that followed was muffled by the hefty, gilded white doors having been gently pushed shut.

"Of course, you shouldn't have been flying at such heights during this weather," the Coatl fussed, a worrisome glint in her eye as she examined Blue Mist. "You're welcome to stay until this storm goes away."

"Thanks," Blue Mist sighed, relieved to be out of the fray. With a quick shake, the Imperial flung droplets of water haphazardly onto the tiles of the temple. Or, at least, that's what he assumed, anyhow. "My name's Blue Mist."

"Isolde, and welcome to the temple. Come, let's get you dried off," Isolde laughed, craning her neck away from the flying water. "Fielle! Can you bring me some blankets? We have a guest." Despite her small frame, her voice reverberated with authoritative kindness throughout the temple. Perched hidden behind his wings was his Blue Tang Hippogriff, a gift from Clan Improbable, his last visit. The small creature wasn't too fond of water, and strangers, it seemed, for the it stared at Isolde like she was the enemy.

Isolde lead Blue Mist through the decorative halls until they came across a rather dazzling young priestess with an aura of mystique surrounding her. "Who's this?"

"Fielle, I asked you to bring me some blankets," Isolde sighed, seeing as there were none in the Pearlcatcher's clutches, "and this is our guest. He needs to be properly cared for. Please, keep him company while I go get him something warm." There was no anger in her voice, just peeved disappointment, but it didn't linger long. The pretty Coatl disappeared, and Blue Mist was left with the Pearlcatcher, who had cast her predatory gaze onto him.

"Why are you here?"

"I - er, there's... a storm outside?" Blue Mist felt a little insulted, especially seeing how much animosity her eyes bore. Suddenly, something black crawled onto the Pearlcatcher's shoulder, and Blue Mist jolted back. The tiny Fae blinked at him with eerily intelligent blue eyes whilst clutching Fielle's shoulder. "I just... didn't want to be out in the rain."

After a moment, Fielle seemed to see this as a suitable answer. "Well, hi. I'm Fielle. This is Shiver, and try anything at all, and you'll be in for a shock." Apparently, she meant literally. There was a fizzling sensation in the air as a small ball blue began to form in Fielle's outstretched claw. Blue Mist shuddered, about to quickly reassure her that he was just here till the storm passed, but just as quickly as it was there, it dissipated as Isolde appeared with a golden fabric in her claw.

"I hope Fielle was treating you kindly," Isolde spoke up, flashing a look in the Pearlcatcher's direction, who looked mortified.

"Me? Rude? Now, that was uncalled for, Isolde."

"We don't have much, but I hope this will suffice?" Isolde queried, ignoring the odd Pearlcatcher completely. She handed him the golden fabric - a shawl made of quality - and draped it over his shoulders. It was warm, dry, and very much what he needed right now.

Blue Mist beamed. "Thank you, this is more than okay! Are you sure I can have this?"

Isolde's smile was warm. "Of course! Now, let's get you something to eat, shall we?"

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