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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
21.54 m
Wingspan
15.51 m
Weight
8308.06 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Wasp
Wasp
Obsidian
Bee
Bee
White
Ghost
Ghost
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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Geist
 The night was perfect for the ritual. An old moon limped across the sky, the last glimpses of yellowed light just barely visible to keen draconic eyes. Not a creature stirred on this auspicious eve, and the air lay heavy as a promise. The unforgiving tundra stretched for miles around a small frozen lake, the blank landscape visible from all angles. An almost expectant atmosphere surrounded the icy landscape, Cool night air caressed the cloaked dragoness as she stood before the frozen lake. Harsh, guttural sounds rolled from her mouth in what could generously be described as a chant. A closer examination would reveal a glazed quality to her eyes, a milky film over moon-yellow eyes. Abruptly breaking of her chanting, the skydancer spread her wings and leapt into the sky. Hovering above the lake, the chanting resumed but louder, the sharp noises crashing and breaking upon the oppressive silence like waves upon a shore. Reaching a crescendo, the dark blue dragoness plucked a primary feather from her own wing and let it drop. Quickly nipping her own arm, a few drops of dark crimson blood well up before dripping down her claws and following the feather’s descent. The feather and blood droplets seemed to race one another, falling, falling… The blood droplets land first, a crimson splatter all the more stark for it’s sharp contrast to the frozen water. A long, navy feather floated sedately behind it, coming to rest on the blood stain without a smear. A clean crack echoed across the tundra, and without another warning, the ice on which the feather and blood had landed on sunk into the water below. The chanting had stopped. The silence stretched out into the landscape, the lake itself holding its breath. Slowly, in the small hole left by the sunken ice, the tip of a pitch black muzzle rose out of the deep. It’s nostrils flared as it inhaled. Exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled. And then, with a sickening crack, a head forced itself out from under the ice. 
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Exalting Geist to the service of the Flamecaller 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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