Sadr
(#59707961)
Epidemiologist
Familiar
Guest Greeter
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Energy: 50
out of
50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Guardian
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Effect
Scene
Measurements
Length
17.78 m
Wingspan
19.7 m
Weight
11288.3 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Lionfish
Lionfish
Blood
Striation
Striation
Banana
Firefly
Firefly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Guardian
Max Level
STR
104
AGI
9
DEF
5
QCK
90
INT
5
VIT
16
MND
5
Biography
Sadr the Resilient
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__ Haunted by a legacy of blood and gore, Sadr seeks a life of calm before all else. I am not my parents, she insists, her fear clinging to every desperate plea. Sadr would sooner throw herself into the ocean's frigid embrace, let the ice devour her, than be like them. Now bound to Valhall, not through free will but through her Charge, Sadr struggles with the balance of it all. She isolated herself at first, refusing to let anyone near, but the world would not let her be. Valhall would not let her be. And Sadr could not stand idle in the face of suffering, no matter that it cost her the solitude she clung to. Valhall needed her and Sadr answered the call, stepping out of the shadows to embrace the new dawn fully. She saved dozens of lives by interfering as sickness raged, determined to prove once and for all that she was better than the ones that came before her. That she would never be the parents she still fear. |
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 ╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮ the Epidemiologist Pathologist Novice Scholar ╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯ | __ |
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A creature of action before anything else, Sadr expresses herself with subtle gestures and deliberate glances. She is not a loud soul, but one that thrives in the still moments where the world lingers between the slumber of night and the groggy awareness of morning. In many ways, she is so very much like her Charge—constant, unchanging, still. Quiet contemplation is her default state of being, and her ideal company begins and ends with herself. This is the way it must be, she once told herself. It is not because she dislikes other dragons nor some innate desire for eternal solitude, but because she fears what it means to get attached to another. Love is the most dangerous thing of all, Sadr thinks, and therefore she keeps the world at arms length. Few guard their hearts as closely as she. Sadr has turned her self-imposed seclusion into an artform, misguided as it may be, and she vehemently refuses to accept the offers of friendship and company when it is offered. It is surely better for everyone this way. (But is it better for her?) Despite it all, Sadr loves. She hates herself for it, too, but she could not deny it forever. The world slowly wiggled through her defences and Sadr did not stop it. It is a state of conflict now woven into her hollow body, filling every crevasse; all she can do is try to make it work. One way or another, she will make it work. Sadr will not be a salve to her instincts. | __ |
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__ » Sadr came to Valhall during her Search. Though one can wonder about the technicalities, it is the Wall itself that is her Charge. » Absolutely adores the colour blue, particularly icy shades like that found in the Wall. There is always at least one blue blanket on her bed. » Always carries around a few phials of essential oils. It's an old habit borne from wandering the plagued lands, the oils used to hide the scent of decay. | __ |
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Hunger, Sadr learned early on, could be a curse. All-consuming and volatile, devouring all before it, and Sadr saw it reflected in her own eyes before she was even fully grown. Her parents thrived with it, ruthless in their gluttony; a distorted view of a future Sadr was terrified of finding herself in. A life ruled by hunger was a nightmare that never ended. She could not bear the thought of it. An inherited curse she would never be able to escape, yet one she refused to yield to. Sadr would die before she ever let herself be taken in by the hunger. (There is no curse.) Twined around the roots of her fear is a ribbon of guilty love. Sadr does not hate her parents, do not even resent them, and her heart aches every time they cross her mind. The guilt makes her stomach twist and ache. And the fear it inspires tastes like raw meat and sinew caught between her teeth, so horribly tempting; it leaves her mouth watering for something she has never tasted and never intends to. Would she, too, grow hungry for things she would never allow herself? Who would suffer for her hunger if she gave in to it? So many questions, so very few answers. The anxiety was as constant as her own heartbeat, a steady thing she could not recall ever going without, and decided she could not risk it. She could never risk it. Solitude would be the salvation of her and those around her, a failsafe against her own horrid urges. This was what first drove Sadr out into the world on her lonesome, bolstered by the itching sensation of her Search taking root in her heart. It was time to find her place in the world. And oh, what a cruel world she found out there. Sadr was not prepared for any of it. She'd been certain there was nothing worse than what she'd left behind, but she'd been terribly wrong, and there was no one around to pull her from the vast sea when it threatened to drown her. Sadr tried to keep herself afloat as best she could— she learned the hard way that survival was no graceful thing. A throwaway fling with a sly fae full of mischief in exchange for shelter, a life stolen in the depth of night in exchange for food, a precious heirloom liberated from innocent hands in exchange for coin; a lifetime of sins in the name of surviving that Sadr would have to carry with her. Three children Sadr helped bring into the world, all taken by the frigid winds of the Icefields before they could see the beauty of a sunset or the wonder in a blooming field. All necessities. There was no love involved, no passion, and Sadr kept moving. Kept surviving. Sadr convinced herself somewhere along the way that as long as she did not love, she would be safe. The hunger could surely not reach her if she was numb inside. When her heart was as barren as the Icefields she'd found herself aimlessly roaming, Sadr could sleep easy, and life would be simpler. She had not shed a tear for the children she lost to the cold, after all, and she had not wept for the atrocities the world made her commit time and time again. She was already halfway there. None of it had been love, except for the single moment when she had laid eyes on her Charge, and relief had bled over into love for the Fates having blessed her. Her Charge weren't a troublesome, living and breathing creature, and she could learn to love that which could not hurt her in return. Never had she expected to find love in those that could hurt her in return. But it happened so, and she struggled to make sense of it then and now, for the dragons of Valhall grew to love her in the same manner she'd only ever expected to, perhaps, love her Charge. If that could even be called love, she supposed, for it wasn't like she'd had a choice. From kindred spirits she kept a wings length away, to cautious acquaintances she wished no harm, to tentative friends she suffered alongside, and then to family like she'd never known before. The hunger may never leave her, and she hates how it flares even in the most comfortable warmth of the fire, but perhaps, she thinks, it is worth the trouble to wrestle it under control for those that love her so. | __ |
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H R A F N A G U D Hrafnagud was everything her previous lover wasn't. Not that she'd had anything resembling love with him, but it had convinced her that sealing her heart away was best. And then Hrafnagud waltzed into her life, saw her, and Sadr felt things she hadn't believed herself capable of. Perhaps, this once, she could allow herself something good. | __ |
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H U G I N Hugin is undoubtedly the one that truly knows her. Though he does not speak, he is as much a treasured friend to Sadr as anyone else, and it is he that gives her the best advice when life grows troubled. Perched side by side on the edge of the Wall, they will gaze out on the horizon, seeing something of value few others can appreciate. | __ |
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B A L D R Bonding over a mutual understanding of rough parents, Baldr quickly grew on Sadr. He knows the weight of a bloodline, of legacy, and he too prefers to linger awkwardly at the edge of the crowds. Kindred spirits with a wish to help others, to give the world something meaningful, these two make a considerable pair that ought not to be underestimated. | __ |
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S Ó L Drawn in by his chaotic mindset and boundless energy, Sadr found herself an unlikely friend in Sól. Able to think his way through any problem, he's always reliable in a pinch, and she's met a surprising amount of new dragons whilst trying to keep up with his nonsense. And it's freeing, to join his chaos, in ways she never thought she'd experience. | __ |
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Exalting Sadr to the service of the Icewarden 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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