Chell
(#54692438)
Level 1 Gaoler
Familiar
Goldfin River Flight
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Gaoler
This dragon is an ancient breed.
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
13.23 m
Wingspan
4.85 m
Weight
7338.09 kg
Genetics
Peach
Jaguar (Gaoler)
Jaguar (Gaoler)
Peach
Rosette (Gaoler)
Rosette (Gaoler)
Peach
Wintercoat (Gaoler)
Wintercoat (Gaoler)
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Gaoler
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
5
DEF
7
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
9
MND
7
Lineage
Biography
 
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Chell
 Adjective| Adjective | Adjective I turned around to the pleasant tinkling of the metal wind chimes. It was a young boy, dressed in a plaid sweater vest and khaki pants -quite plain as compared to my velvety leopard print coat- , who had entered my store. I recognized the expression on his face -the look of astonishment, almost overwhelming to the point of consternation- that children and adults alike had when they unknowingly strolled in. Rather fitting, if I do say so myself. I followed his gaze along the piles and shelves of relics and baubles, old memories flitting through my mind. The silver pocket watch was a gift from my grandfather. “Late again, Chell?” I picture hear him sighing, his expression stern yet amused. “You know what? You need this more than I do,” he pressed the shiny trinket in the palm of my hand. The shiny, reflective ornament was from the family next door. Their youngest daughter, who smiled from ear to ear, had handed me a shiny ornament with the phrase “happy holidays” inscribed on the surface. I could see my reflection on the ornament, too, a short, but not quite thickset woman. It was different from my dragon form, you could say. “Excuse me, miss?” I looked down at the young boy, who was now pointing to a polished bronze dragon figurine on my desk, a gaoler, nestled amongst a tangle of champagne tinted pearls. I smirked at the wooden sign behind it, which read “Khajiit has wares, if you have coin”. “How much is the dragon?” the boy questioned. A furious clanging of the wind chimes answered him. A tall man, almost as tall as the doorway, charged in. “Sylvester!” He barked, “there you are! Quit daydreaming, son, and come along now!” Sylvester met my gaze, his formerly bright eyes now shadowed by sadness. He glanced back at the dragon figurine -not once but twice- as he turned and trudged towards his father. “You can have it,” I offered, “it’s a she, actually. She’s a gaoler.” Sylvester pointed at the intricate leopard pattern on the gaoler’s fleece-like coat. “She looks like you!” he giggled, gesturing towards my long leopard print coat. I smiled at him, took his hand and placed the little gaoler in his warm palm. The dragon figurine was not a carving of me, but was in fact, my mother.    
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About
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Sources Used • • [ 1 ] • • • [ 2 ]• • • [ 3 ]• • • Lightweaver • •
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