Siren
(#56458549)
Rest for the fight is won, sleep my hero, your story is done
Toxic
Swarmsprite Deerling
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Nature.
Female Guardian
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
11.45 m
Wingspan
16.85 m
Weight
7209.3 kg
Genetics
Eldritch
Starmap
Starmap
Eldritch
Noxtide
Noxtide
Moon
Ghost
Ghost
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Guardian
Max Level
STR
129
AGI
9
DEF
8
QCK
50
INT
5
VIT
10
MND
6
Biography
Siren
Tactician / Protector
Theme: Meet Me on the Battlefield by SVRCINA
Tactician / Protector
Theme: Meet Me on the Battlefield by SVRCINA
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Relation: Rival/Friend  Relation: Friend  Favored Treasure: 
Favored Apparel:
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Notes~
Lore~ Everyone is a product of their upbringing, no matter how vehemently many try to deny it. Where one comes from will always be intrinsic to the circumstances that shaped them. It’s difficult, then, to discern whether those who leave their painful memories in the past can ever truly move on. It’s that worry that keeps the eldritch guardian awake each night. She whispers the same song, strums the same tune on her harp. Yet despite her greatest wishes to forget the monster she once was, all she can think of is her own guilt. It consumes her thoughts, her soul, and her heart. No matter how hard she works at changing, at atoning for her awful actions, she knows that deep down, there’s something ugly hidden away. Something she fears cannot be locked up forever. And in the past she conceals from her family, she dwells. Siren was born in the Shrieking Wilds to a clan of militaristic conquerors, and she was raised alongside her brothers as a soldier. For the first few years of her life, she was the finest warrior she could have been. But in a particularly violent skirmish against a rival army, Siren watched her eldest brother- her closest sibling- fall to an enemy’s blade. Broken and terrified, the young guardian ran away from the horrors of war, fully abandoning the army she’d been trained to fight alongside. The next chapter in her life began when she was adopted by a stern old wildclaw named Thresh. He was a mercenary and assassin who used stealth and wit to defeat his opponents, a lethal killer. When he found Siren wandering the Viridian Labyrinth alone, he took her back to his home in the Tangled Wood and raised the little guardian as his daughter. He trained her in every form of combat she was not yet familiar with and turned her into the perfect assassin. Outside of that, he loved and cared for her in a way her birth clan hadn’t. Siren felt like she’d finally found her home. Thresh often asked her about when she planned to seek a Charge. But Siren was never confident in her answer. Her search could wait. She didn’t feel that instinctual pull towards something greater the way most guardians did. Instead, she was perfectly happy sparring and training. However, she was plagued with the trauma of what happened to her brother. She found herself unable to complete a kill, mind full of graphic nightmares every time she was assigned a job. Thresh, in an attempt to ease her troubles, carved a harp out of the bones of one of their many kills. On it, he taught her a very special song. A song designed to honor lost souls and guide them safely to the spirit plane. Siren learned, the moment she heard the sad song, that her Charge was very unique. It was the song itself. To protect and keep alive the passing of souls using the lullaby’s magic, she began to sing and play it every time she successfully pulled off a kill. Something about the knowledge that the souls could rest eased her conscience enough for her to do what had to be done. Though she refused to kill any innocent dragons and instead focused on lowbrow criminals. Thresh respected this, and every time she killed, hunted, or took any sort of life, he partook in the song with her. Her adoptive father passed away when a mission they were running together went awry. He was narrowly able to shove her out of the way of a bolt of dark magic, which killed him almost immediately. Siren did not have time to play her song or even grieve as the guards had been alerted to their presence. She was barely able to escape, but not being able to play her lullaby for Thresh is the greatest regret of her life. She fled though, as he would have asked her to do. However, one of the guards managed to catch her with their blade, and Siren was gravely injured. She took to the sky and managed to travel a few miles before collapsing in the Foxfire Bramble, where a small silver veilspun landed on her nose, looking at her curiously. “You’re not from here, are you?” The little dragon asked, tipping her head. She was an elder as far as veilspun went, but her tiny size caught Siren off guard. “What seems to be your injury?” Siren slowly lifted her wing to reveal the slashing mark in her abdomen and the pool of blood gathering on the dirt beneath her. “Blade,” she whispered. “A katana, I think.” “I’ll have this wound fixed up in no time,” the veilspun said firmly. “My name is Calypso. While I work, how about you have a rest? You have my word that the dragons of the Twisted Reach will care for you. You’re safe here.” Safe. Siren hardly knew the meaning of the word. |
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