Vasila

: Vasila is a architect, and spends his work time trying to fix up the original plans for the clan's layout. Making actual buildings instead of literal holes in the wall would be nice.


: The odds were stacked with him, they used various arcane magic fused together to create him. Potions, elixirs, spells, and manipulations from powers beyond dragons were thrown into one. In various rolls, he came out perfect. A soulless vessel from which they could finally breathe life again. 100 to 1, but the odds failed. They had one folly, one limitation that bind them at this moment more then the others. They couldn't chose the result they liked the most out of the universes, they had to go with the one chosen by nature.

When Vasila was born, the odds were stacked against him, but he survived. Vasila was born with a soul, and in this way, they lost. They never bet what they were scared to lose however, they were working on their own plan. Vessels made by dragons proved useless, so they would make his own. They faded away from Vasila within a minute of hatchling, leaving the child with their own thoughts. A memory of another that wouldn't last long, as he was distracted by the stars in his vision.




(We'll work on this part later)


The Starfall Isles have recently seen a spark of magical power in hatchlings. A few lucky hatchlings have been blessed by their god and carry magic stronger then many mages and stars in their eyes. Vasila was one of those hatchlings.

The son of Zenava and a soft spoken boy, he is most often seen on the outskirts of the lair. Hanging out right by the massive forest that's nearby. Many dragons in the lair consider him a blessing, being one chosen by the gods. He's quite humble though, and doesn't like such praise at all. He mostly avoids other dragons, but he is certainly a valued part of the lair. Many dragons thank him for bringing good luck to the clan.

---

My eyes have stars in them, but I can still see. My body is surged in magical energy, but I'm still me. But to everyone else in the lair, I'm the god's blessing. The stars come from no god though. I'm no luck bringer, I'm a fake.

My primal energy was forcefully given to me by my father, brewed up in a potion by Nexus. They skewed the luck into my favor. I don't know why he did this though, why I was born as a false idol. He never told me anything about myself, and I had to sneak around so much to learn where my stars came from.

The stars are beginning to cloud my eyes, they must realize I'm a fake. I don't deserve these eyes at all, maybe they'll be gone soon.