Joywing » Lair » Reshardin

Reshardin

(#52316209)

Level 8 Gaoler

Familiar

Snowfall Elk

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

12 m

Wingspan

7.6 m

Weight

9828.62 kg

Genetics

Orca
Shaggy (Gaoler)

Ice
Spirit (Gaoler)

Storm
Runes (Gaoler)

Hatchday

Jun 02, 2019
(4 years)

Breed

Adult
Gaoler

Eye Type

Nature
Common

Level 8 Gaoler

EXP: 309 / 16009

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

ReshardinXXXXXXXXXXXXXXTailor

To Judge a Song

The bitter scent of Shade was one familiar to any Gaoler of the Seekers, ever since its influence scattered across Sorineth. Where the Shade went, the Seekers would follow, ready to punish its intrusion upon the land. Even as generations passed, and hatchlings grew away from the ancestral Icefields, the duty remained. The Shade had to be contained.

The foe was cunning, and could camouflage itself, deceiving with the veneer of innocence. It had to be rooted out, no matter the cost. To those with senses as sharp as talons, blessed with an insight that could cut through deception, the burden of judgement was lain. They had the power of life and death, holding the fate of their prisoners in their paws. They could not hesitate. They could not err. They were the Arbiters.

Fear and regret were the first to go, the price for surety of judgement. Next was the name, for the piercing senses of the Arbiters was not one, but many. The heart was the final cost, taken by the pale cold, frozen beyond thawing. No compassion or sympathy could be spared. A tool could not feel. That was not its Duty. The voice of one was the voice of all, the incisive, final judgement of a prisoner to live or die. Before anything else, beyond life, beyond the self, any Gaoler was a weapon of Shade’s bane. An Arbiter embraced this; they would be nothing else.

One initiate could hear the thrumming pulse of life. It was always different for each dragon; a pitter-patter of excitement or the long grand thrum of reminiscence. Like an orchestra, the lifebeat conveyed the depths of their hearts: longing, enthusiasm, despair. If he listened for long enough, the pulse became its own, beautiful song.

When the Shade-tainted was brought before him, he could sense the sickening drone of black noise. It was soft at first, lingering behind the music. He could sense it grow, as the subject was overtaken by the encroaching Shade within. It would grow louder and louder, strangling the song of life and its singer. Only that dreadful sound would remain. It was unmistakable, and seemingly unstoppable. It horrified and disgusted him. It was for that reason he was initiated.

At first, he readily accepted the lessons with his fellows. Brutal as it was, no precaution was enough to stop the Shade. Every worn muscle, every punishment was a step closer to perfect judgement. An Arbiter could be nothing less. In the waking hours, he would hear the synchronised march of determination, and for every night he fell upon his nest, he would drift to sleep, hearing the gentle, soothing pulse of satisfaction. To protect that beauty, he would do what needed to be done.

Yet, as the days wore on, the music began to change. The familiar unceasing pulse in himself and his fellows became softer and softer, blanketed by falling snow. His comrades’ faces became hard and grim, solemn as they swore themselves only to the duty. Bit by bit, the self and name was worn away, for only the mind and body to remain. Some nights, he could hear naught but his own heartbeat, slowed like a fly in amber. He would lie awake, hearing only the silence. It was only in that disturbing restlessness that he had a realization. The Arbiters did not protect the song of life, only replace it with the Winter’s silence.

The price of his song, the beating of his soul and music of his life, was too steep to pay. There had to be a better way, a method to make the symphony swell over the Shade. He simply could not bear the silence. Using the same words and the same rules, he laid judgement upon himself. For the crime of insubordination and rebellion against the Seeker order, he sentenced himself to banishment. He resigned his role as Arbiter in the ritual manner, and then fled from the roaming patrols of his kin.

For a time, the Gaoler had nowhere to go, and nowhere to be. He did not even have a name. All he did was follow the music, wherever it led. He first reclaimed his song, wandering to where the sights lifted his spirits the highest. The wise rumblings of Dragonhome, the curious whispers of the Wood, the abyssal noises of the Depths, all those were added to his personal medley. He dared not speak at first, simply listening to those dragons in their lives. It was at once disheartening and uplifting, hearing the thunderous, wondrous orchestra of life that was stolen from him and his kin.

He eventually came to the lands of soaring skies and windswept plains. He could feel the heart lighten, swept along with the bubbling crescendo of the winds. The winds would whisper both exhilarating adventure, and soothing tones. There was no tradition or restriction, no limitation, no history. It was the greatest freedom that he had ever seen. It was there that he found a home in a Guild of many songs, criss-crossing and combining in new ways. Eventually, he found the heart to sing along.

Perhaps his song had changed drastically, crushed, restored and reshaped by all that he had seen. Yet, a new song is made from multiple parts, more beautiful than the original. His name was Reshardin, a name made from multiple shards, reforged with the song that they had tried to crush so long ago.

Here, nestled amongst the myriad of symphonies, Reshardin found his place. Quaint yet lively, the rhythms measured the in and out of a moving needle through cloth. The dragons were friendly, and he found himself defrosting to meet them. Some days, the noise was a bit too loud, but Reshardin never really faulted anybody for it. After all, he wasn’t the arbiter on the matter.

"Every day is beautiful. No harm in singing along!"

Fun Facts

Made his hoodie with extra stuffing on the ears to help with noise overload.

Once tricked Pikaros into making decorations for the holiday party.

Terrifying at hide and seek, since he can hear where you are.

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Adorable Art by soulykins

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Exalting Reshardin 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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