Betelguese

(#47577108)
Level 1 Tundra
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Familiar

Mischievous Magnifier
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Male Tundra
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Personal Style

Apparel

Winter Wind
Twilight Oracle's Guise
Snowfall Robe

Skin

Scene

Measurements

Length
4.08 m
Wingspan
3.86 m
Weight
272.26 kg

Genetics

Primary Gene
Denim
Starmap
Denim
Starmap
Secondary Gene
Denim
Bee
Denim
Bee
Tertiary Gene
Stonewash
Stained
Stonewash
Stained

Hatchday

Hatchday
Dec 11, 2018
(5 years)

Breed

Breed
Adult
Tundra

Eye Type

Eye Type
Arcane
Unusual
Level 1 Tundra
EXP: 0 / 245
Meditate
Contuse
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
7
VIT
7
MND
7

Biography

Betelguese



I believe it happened violently - the way I died. I remember columns of marble dancing, orange with fire. I don't remember heat. The memory is cold. I remember the crackling of the flames, and other sounds. They might have been voices, but I remember them as a roar, or else as a wail. And then pearls rolling across the floor before me. They were wet. They left red trails that glistened with fire.

Sadness and fear, I have no fondness for those memories.

I died, and my Lord resurrected me. She never asked for payment. She gave life freely, just as others give death so freely. She did not test me, did not question me, did not command me to follow her.

"You may come with me, if you wish. There is not much for you here. But it is ultimately your choice." With that she had turned from me; her shadow had swept over me - gently.

Oh, it's strange thinking of her. Very strange. She terrifies me, and my awe for her paralyzes me. I can barely breathe in her presence. I am not a coward. I don't think of myself as a coward. The others she has resurrected seem to find her just as overwhelming. That's how I would characterize it: overwhelming. That is what she is. She is not a terror, not a nightmare – not to us, at least. No. Not to us. She is simply… too great to comprehend.

I now keep records. I doubt I did much during my first life, but now I try to be useful. I want to be useful. But I don’t want to be one of many, to be just like any of the other Risen - or Once Dead. We can refer to ourselves any way we please; it's just a matter of perspective, what one chooses to fixate on - the continuation, or the thwarted end. I want to be special, or specialized. I want to be one of a very few. I don’t like drowning, or being obscure. Obscurity is like death, to me. Perhaps that’s an exaggeration for most, but for me, I think it’s fairly accurate.

I have dozens upon dozens of scrolls now. Others have said I should use codices, or that I should write in books – formats I find unfamiliar. I have tried to make my own scrolls. Sadly, my attempts are too pitiful to describe. My Lord provides me with any material I might need, and that includes perfectly good parchment. Somehow, she provides. Mistress Lorelle usually delivers the material. She’s pleasant to me. She can be quite harsh to others. But she is always unnerving. Always. I can’t think of her without my hide twitching.

I have no interest in wars or revenge. I don’t remember my people. I don’t want to remember. I want to live in my scrolls, in my words, in my present – what of the present I choose to preserve. I record unpleasant things, yes. But they are unpleasant in their own right, not uniquely to me. We lose some of our number. We gain more. I write down names. One scroll for the living. One for those laid to rest. I record how many times some have been resurrected. Some of those numbers are…

Some simply have a greater will to live than others, I suppose.



I am the one who records those who would have otherwise been obscure or lost entirely.

I mean to be useful. I mean to.

But parchment burns so easily.
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This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
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This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
Plant stocks are currently depleted.
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Exalting Betelguese to the service of the Icewarden 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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