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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
26.09 m
Wingspan
21.02 m
Weight
8144.37 kg
Genetics
White
Iridescent
Iridescent
White
Shimmer
Shimmer
Orchid
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 10 Imperial
EXP: 35 / 27676
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
PLENILUNE
Shadowbinder's Favoured
Some are born great, others achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. I was born very shortly after the first Imperials, back when the world was still young and her lands were still new. The Shadowbinder, not willing to be outdone by her sister the Lightweaver, had sought to cast her own avatars into the world. So underneath a full moon, she crafted and sculpted, chiselled and moulded, until from the gnarled brambles sprung a creation built in her image: A Nocturne. Shining pure white, with indigo markings splattered across her scales. She was Eris, the goddess of chaos, and my mother. From Eris, one by one, my siblings were loosed upon the world, until I too emerged underneath that sky. My scales were a pure, glowing white, shiny and reflective. I remember opening my eyes for the first time and seeing the wild, full disk of the moon, its glowing visage peeking out behind a wisp of cloud. It smiled down at me and marked me with the colours of the night sky. Fervid shadow magic thrummed through my veins from the first jump-start of my pulse. At first, it was overwhelmingly intense, running ragged and seeping out through every gap of my pores, rising up from my body in a mist. I sensed the Shadowbinder herself watching me, her deep aura of satisfaction barely permeated through this haze of darkness and crushing power. I feared I could never be able to control something so great, that mother would realise she had made a mistake and I would be deemed unworthy. But my mother greeted me warmly, wrapped me in a soothing embrace, and sang a sweet lullaby in her melodic, haunting voice. She coaxed me with a gentle hand and a kind smile. In her wisdom, she taught me the secrets to my power, taught me how to hold my magic in both hands and coalesce it into something solid, something that can be weaved and fashioned into the threads of reality. She is a legend, a goddess in her own right. Many stories are told of how she issues challenges to those deemed worthy, weaving her threads of chaos and guarding the world against passivity. Only in the crucible of chaos can we sow the seeds of true greatness, she would say when I inevitably flinched at the violence of it all. She tested them through trials by fire, ice and shadow. She created heroes. Dragons are each independent creatures, yet capable of influencing their own destinies and the destinies of those around them. A single life is so brief and lonely—a sole actor on the grand stage of eternity—and yet, each one is capable of shaping the world, even to change the rules of the universe, given the chance. I am that chance. The pulsing beat of greatness in me wanes and waxes, following the phases of the moon and the tides of Shadow's dominance. With it, I can turn a scrap of paper into a graceful crane, or put a thousand whispers into a single thought, murmurs of betrayal and glory and secret love. So I sit in my corner in the shadows, obscured and unseen, weaving my silk-thin reels of twisted threads. Influencing the paths of the most ardent and most ambitious as it unravels. From a war-forged revolutionary to a gentle leader of the people, the greatest all bear my mark; the manifestation of heroic destiny. My beautiful creations, all walking the world, so full of wonder and curiosity and possibility. In those times, I would raise my voice in that smooth timbre I use to hear, an old lullaby toned by the hum of magic in my bones and the rays of moonlight dancing through the clouds. It is a beautiful, wonderous, eerie sound. A tune from a different time, a window to a different world. Mournful and joyous; half wail, half song. A homage to the proud traditions and history of my kind, and to the lessons instilled in me from a time before time. But I seek not only to weave the tales of the great but also to guide with a gentle hand. To use a kind word before a cruel one, and to fill their journies with melody rather than with fire and ice and tragedy. One person leaves, another appears. A thought flits away and another takes its place. One image bids farewell and another one appears on the scene. I sing in celebration of all the dragons that now roam this earth, and of all their great stories, just waiting to unfurl in their one glorious moment under the sky. What am I? A half-finished vessel. Perhaps I could be something more than just the shadow of the Lightweaver's children. I am dust and shadows, but I still yearn for the light. Not the blinding radiance of sunlight, but the silty shadows of moonlight. |
Force sensitive
Element infused Runes: Grape, Royal, Eggplant, iris
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Exalting Plenilune to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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