Joywing » Lair » Rialren

Rialren

(#50801646)

Level 8 Coatl

Familiar

Enchanting Goblin

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

7.49 m

Wingspan

10.21 m

Weight

1108.01 kg

Genetics

Fog
Iridescent

Fuchsia
Shimmer

Maize
Underbelly

Hatchday

Apr 07, 2019
(5 years)

Breed

Adult
Coatl

Eye Type

Shadow
Common

Level 8 Coatl

EXP: 1385 / 16009

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

RialrenXXXXXXXXXXXXXXGuild Diplomat

Magic

“Is this your card?” The brightly-clad coatl asked, deftly flipping over a violet backed card to reveal the Seven of Hearts. The hatchling gasped in surprise, and nodded. The older coatl could not help but smile, watching his daughter toy with the deck, looking up and down, all around for the magic in the cards. He chuckled to himself, recalling when he too believed in the impossible. Perhaps it was deceitful, even cruel to play off his simple sleight of hand as genuine magic, but Rialren didn’t care. After all, how could he destroy such wonder and joy with the truth?

The session of play was interrupted when the coatl heard an irritated cough behind him. He turned, and saw a rather harried Guildmaster call for his attention. There was yet more work that needed to be done. Rialren pat the child on her head, and left her to satiate her own curiosity with the deck.

Aria’s briefing seemed to flow by like water. More white noise about another meeting, another document that needed to be drafted. Something about ensuring a ‘preferential trade agreement’ with a neighbouring clan. He simply nodded and proceeded to his alcove, a messy workplace of papers, contracts and letters. He groaned internally, bemoaning the mountains of paperwork that appeared in his absence. He sat down, and began the dull process of administration.

Even after an innumerable amount of signing, stamping and corrections, the stubborn mountain refused to get any smaller. Rialren sighed. Was this really what it meant to be a diplomat? What good would it do to simply push papers? What good would a signature or agreement do, if they were worth only as much as the paper it was written on?

The numbers and words seemed to swim in his vision, blurring together in an inky mass. He shook his head. He needed a break from the dull work. He’d just take twenty winks, a quick nap before continuing. It’s not like Aria would notice, right? The coatl yawned, and set his head on the bamboo desk. He felt the cool draft of wind on his face, as he drifted off.

“Now presenting: Rialren the Magnificent!” He heard the cheers of the crowd, the eager applause of his audience as they awaited his arrival. The coatl, clad in shimmering silks and extravagant clothes burst onto the stage. He gave his practiced, knowing smile, as he performed his art.

His powers of illusion were unparalleled, his magic weaving a show to be remembered for a lifetime. In one moment, they were underwater, surrounded by the glowing coral and iridescent fish of the Sea of a Thousand Currents. The next, they were in the Ashfall Wastes, the stage illuminated only by the glowing lava vents, the smell of sulphur suffusing the air. He wove a wonderful performance, dancing through illusory flames, flying higher than the clouds in the sky. His adoring fans cheered, pining for more.

At the end, he tipped his hat and bowed, another masterful performance complete. He left the stage, making his way through the crowds of fans, to the gnarled tree he called home. He sat down on the swan-feathered nest, surrounded by memorabilia from his many performances. He admired his work, the product of his recognised talent. He had it all, fame, ability, wealth.

Why did he still feel so empty?

The melancholy mood seeped into him. He looked at the glittering gold, and shining silver, and saw it was lifeless and cold. He recalled his fans, who could only see the illusion of himself he had fabricated. Was this really what it meant to be a Magician?

He wished that he could work his magic on himself, to trick himself into believing his lie of a perfect life.

“Daddy?” Rialren slowly opened his eyes. The young coatl nudged his head, trying to wake her father. He was back in the alcove. He was once again a diplomat, a fraud of a magician. He slowly rose from his desk, eyes drawn to the hatchling that had snuck into his office.

“I made my own, is it good?” The hatchling shoved a small stack of papers to him, expectantly looking to his reaction. Rialren leafed through the cards, crudely made and rough around the edges. He paused, lingering on the King of Spades. It was of a coatl, dressed in fine pink robes, smiling while holding a card in one hand, a quill in the other. He choked for a moment, the words caught in his throat.

“It’s fantastic. The best I’ve seen! Do you want to learn how to shuffle?” The young one laughed with glee, carefully watching the deft movement of Rialren’s claws. Soon, she ran out, eagerly looking to show off her new trick to her friends. He looked on fondly, witnessing the elation, the excitement of seeing something for the first time, of believing in the magic.

He wasn’t a good diplomat, or a master of illusions, or the world famous trickster of the Shadow Flight. Yet, to his companions, to his dear mate Latiki, to his children, he worked a kind of magic of his own.

He turned back to his work, and took another sheaf of paper. There was need for his magic yet.

"What's life without a little fun?"

Fun Facts

Joined the Wanderers when Iblis punched him in the face for hitting on Aria.

Acted as Polaris' Wingdragon when he was courting Wernerae.

Once dyed Iblis' mane rainbow while she was asleep. It was painful, but her face was priceless.

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Amazing art by Aerai

Lovebird Adopt by starsystems

Tarot Card by PiukVonGacy

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Exalting Rialren to the service of the Windsinger 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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