gaymiens » Lair » Shawl

Shawl

(#48507035)

Level 7 Spiral

Familiar

Marbled Jester

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

4.35 m

Wingspan

2.29 m

Weight

65.94 kg

Genetics

Denim
Skink

Cerulean
Spinner

Flaxen
Contour

Hatchday

Jan 12, 2019
(5 years)

Breed

Adult
Spiral

Eye Type

Ice
Common

Level 7 Spiral

EXP: 5788 / 11881

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Diver
Arisa

Offspring

Biography

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S H A W L

THE STARSTRUCK VAGABOND

Shawl's claws skittered against the frozen surface of the Frigid Floes, struggling to keep the length of his twisted body from capsizing entirely. His scales ached for the warmth of the sun, currently hid away behind the blanket of storm clouds that had rolled in from the East. This was the seventh snowstorm this Winter, although Shawl didn't know that. His clan had busied themselves gathering food to store in the little cave they called their home, but this was to be Shawl's first encounter with the cruelty of the elements. He had known nothing but the warm embrace of his mother, the petty squabbles with his siblings, and the knitted weave of cloth hanging around his shoulders- his namesake. An hour after hatching, he'd gotten his clumsy body entangled in the thing, and his clan had found it so endearing they'd collectively decided to name him after it.

It wasn't a bad name by any means. Shawl. The word invoked comfort, of a night spent in front of the hearth and cuddled close to a loved one. It was a warm word. And you needed whatever warmth you could find in the Icefield. Especially if your body was built for kissing the peaks of the sky rather than hunkering down under its fury. Shawl's family were nomads, but the sudden injury of his clan leader had forced them to take shelter in the Icefield. They grew restless fast, but what could they do about it? There was no medical attention for miles. It was a grim and frozen fate they'd been sealed to. But to Shawl, it was home.

But even a solidary upbringing couldn't quiet the yearning of adventure that flitted through Shawl's veins like electricity through a circuit. For each day he spent staring up at the sky, a spark inside him grew- consumed him with the spirit of adventure. The tales of his clan had emboldened him, switched on something which should have remained untouched. It was clear that Shawl would not be content to resign himself the way his parents had.

The snowstorm that night was a vicious one. Shawl's siblings cowered against his mother, squirming their bodies against her and tucking under her wings. She was so busy trying to quiet them that she didn't notice the shadow of her youngest slipping towards the end of the cave, staring into the fury of the night sky. She didn't notice his wings unfurling. And she didn't notice his absence... not until the next day, when she found the crumpled-up and frostbitten remnants of a well-worn shawl.

Shawl's memory slips at this point, frays away like the edges of his namesake. One often remembers little when faced with the claws of death. It's the same reason why those resuscitated cannot tell what comes beyond the veil, their memories fading away like mist in the sun. But Shawl will never forget the face of the dragon who saved him. The gentle smile of one who has truly earned the title of Guardian, who breathed warmth back into his beaten body and shielded him under her wings.

Nyrula.

When she saved his life, Shawl vowed to come to her in her time of need. He was young enough not to quite grasp the depth of this conviction, but the Arcane powers that lie beyond recognised it as a pact. As Shawl grew, as he travelled, as he lived a thousand stories, this pact burned under his scales, drawing him towards the peaks of the Crystalspine Reaches like moths to a flame. And when the magnetic pull grew too great to ignore, Shawl returned to his previous protector. To her clan, robbed of its treasures, desolate and lonely.

And Shawl learned another word, warmer than that of his namesake.

Home.

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Exalting Shawl to the service of the Arcanist 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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