Ulric
(#62706184)
Whoever said I was a saint?
Familiar
Darktouched Chimera
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Male Tundra
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
2.69 m
Wingspan
3.3 m
Weight
293.92 kg
Genetics
Silver
Savannah
Savannah
Shale
Blend
Blend
Grape
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Tundra
Max Level
STR
7
AGI
10
DEF
6
QCK
50
INT
128
VIT
16
MND
7
Biography
Ulric is a battle mage! He is built to join a coliseum team to help farm resources, as described in this guide! If your clan no longer needs Ulric's services, please return him to Countessoffire (User ID: 236389) so that he can find another clan to aid.
Ulric Spiritus'Unquibus
Lore
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Insert Loremaster Name Here wrote:
Insert lore about Ulric's time in clan here.
~This was written by [insert credit link here] ... This is a buffer to keep the width of the lore section correct. It is invisible! Please do not remove! Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. | . |
Additional Information
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... Disciple of Ziora  Knight - Mentor - Founder of Heaven's Requiem |
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Ad Victoriam! The Starfall Isles were abuzz with the excitement of the summer solstice. Really, what would any dragon expect of the Flight famed for its affinity for celestial objects? Even the residents of the Astrolodome were busy celebrating the solstice. Despite the festivities, not all were celebrating. A young Tundra, small for one his age, aching and muddy from the large puddle he just picked himself up from; half-heartedly shook out his mane. Dirty brown water trickled and dripped down the bangs that drooped before his eyes. A shiver passed through his entire frame. He sneezed. "What was that for? Who were those guys even? They smelled like idiots..." The young Tundra, who didn't have any kin willing to claim him, walked through a gaggle of dragons vying to get supplies from the merchants at the impromptu market. He didn't remember this market. It smelled fresh. Weaving his way like a needle through thread, the young Tundra found his home. The dingy alley smelled like rotten vegetables but the youth paid it no mind. He padded through filth and muck until he stood at the dead end wall. With three knocks of his right forepaw on a recessed brick, a glamor that was hiding a staircase dissipated. Climbing the staircase, the young Tundra entered a cozy den filled with other orphaned hatchlings, some older and some younger. Their merry voices filled the chamber with a bright energy. Wiping his paws and padding through a trough of water enchanted with a cleansing spell, the young Tundra sighed with relief when he smelled family and friendship. One of the other youths, a pale Mirror with glassy cream wings, bounded over toward the young Tundra. "Whoa, whoa! What happened to you, Brother?! You look like you were kicked by an Ophiotaurus then thrown into a swamp!" The Tundra had honestly forgotten until his ugly little brother brought it back up. They weren't related by blood, but he knew he and the Mirror were the oldest of the group. He wasn't mad at the Mirror, far from it. He was grateful that anyone cared enough to ask. Sitting on his haunches just outside of the threshold, the Tundra tilted his head as he tried to recollect what happened. "Um... Stinky idiots... Yes. Outsiders... Nobodies really. Thought they were big by hitting me and pushing me into a puddle. Say, Blacktooth? How are we on... supplies? I think these nobodies that tried to bully me should be taught how to properly contribute. They seemed so willing to give me a bath. Why not let them help Heaven's Requiem?" Blacktooth, smiled a wicked and toothy grin and revealed his namesake, a grisly black fang that probably should be removed. It didn't seem to bother Blacktooth so the young Tundra never suggested it. Blacktooth declared, "Brother, sometimes I think you are more diabolical than me! I like it! Yeah. Hey boys! Some gaggle of bullies tried to hurt our brother!" The other dragons in the chamber turned their heads. A cacophony of enraged roars thundered through the chamber. "Nobody hurts Big Brother!" "Stinking bullies need to be taught a lesson!" "That kinda thing doesn't fly in our side of town!" "They're probably cronies of that lazy Archanist! Trying to exalt big brother!" "Requiem! Requiem! Requiem!" Just as quickly as the rage rose, it was focused when one of the youngest of the gathering began to chant the battle cry. As one voice, the Young Tundra's followers called him to act. Even Blacktooth was pounding his forepaws and chanting right along with the rest. Flicking an ear, the young Tundra straightened his shoulders and lifted his head. His mane was finally starting to dry out so he was starting to look more like their Big Brother. Glowing orange claws scratched on the crystalline floor. He bellowed, "You want to join me in finding these idiots?" "Yeah!" "You wanna show 'em the might of Heaven's Requiem?!" "Yeah!" "Great," bellowed the young Tundra. He turned his head toward Blacktooth. "Who are we talking about again?" The entire gathering burst into fits of laughter. Blacktooth, fighting his own laughter, barked over the laughter. "Alright settle down! We all know Big Brother is terrible with labels and names! Haha, Big Brother. We're gonna respond to the bullies. We just need your nose to lead us to 'em." The young Tundra nodded. "Ooooh, is that all? Ok. Get up ya louts! Time to go before I forget again." With his powerful nose fixated on the scent of his would-be bullies, the young Tundra led his followers to an abandoned aqueduct just on the other side of the new market. It was an area of town that his followers had not patrolled in a while. Or had they patrolled it? The young Tundra took a deep breath. No, there were no scents of friends and family here. Only idiots. Falling onto his belly, the young Tundra flicked his tail and Blacktooth followed suit. Together they slithered across weed infested concrete and stopped when they could just peek over the lip of the weir. The young Tundra spotted his would-be bullies. He clicked his claws six times to signal to his followers that there were six targets. Suddenly, the wind shifted. The next thing he smelled made his blood freeze in his veins. The sour decay mixed with iron was unmistakable and yet there was a different scent that the young Tundra could only describe as warm brilliance. Like a summer star moss meadow caught in the first rays of the sun. It was too late to call off his followers. The chants of requiem thundered in his ears and the forms of his friends, his followers, burst over the weir to launch their surprise attack. It worked. In the blink of an eye, the would-be bullies, whom thought they would take this territory as their own, fell to the might of Heaven's Requiem. Just like any pitiful coward, the lot begged for mercy, until the young Tundra rose to his paws and marched down to view his followers' handiwork. It was delicious. The terror on the would-be bullies' faces. The young Tundra spoke, "Looks like you remember me. Can't say I remember your dumb faces at all." He reached up and tapped at his snout. "I remember the smell of idiots though. And I remember the ache in my limbs. Not so tough now, huh? Thought I was alone? You should count yourselves lucky we got to you first. I smell something terribly dangerous nearby. So terrible, I don't wanna linger." Blacktooth smirked. "How do you want to punish them, Big Brother?" "The usual," answered the young Tundra, "Make it quick. I'm not messing around with this dangerous smell in the air." The young Tundra turned away and started making his way back to the hideout. He could still smell the strange scents even well away from the aqueduct. It didn't take long for his followers to return to his flanks. He always found Blacktooth to be reliable in making sure his orders were carried out. Together they made their way back to the hideout in one piece. The young Tundra's followers were none the wiser in regard to the strange smell that was in the air. It followed. The young Tundra could still smell it. That reek. And yet, now that he could think on the smell in the safety of his home, there was an unfamiliar feminine smell. That intrigued the young Tundra. Where were these unusual smells coming from? They were close as if following him. The smells continued to trail him well into the week. Whenever he would venture out to see to gathering supplies for his followers, the unfamiliar smells followed. Even Blacktooth took notice that something was bothering his Big Brother. One evening, Blacktooth grumbled, "What has you on edge Big Brother? You've been acting like a rat scared of his own tail." The young Tundra tilted his head out of confusion. "Truly? Hm... I think I'm being watched. I keep smelling strange scents in our territory, trailing me and lingering in the area even when I am hidden here." Blacktooth clicked his tongue. "Must be a rival group trying to steal our territory. Can you track them?" The young Tundra frowned. "No, that is the strange thing. Whomever is trailing me... doesn't want to be found." Blacktooth snorted, "Smart of 'em." The young Tundra agreed with a curt nod. "Tomorrow morning, I'll see if I can't confront these would-be stalkers." Blacktooth grinned. "Sounds like it could be fun. What do these stalkers smell like?" "Death. And like starmoss on a warm summer morning." Blacktooth blinked, taken by surprise. "Huh? What does that even smell like? How does that even go together?" The young Tundra shook his head. "That is what my nose tells me. I think there are two. You'll hear my signal if I get into trouble." Blacktooth nodded; the Mirror fell asleep readily. For the young Tundra, sleep didn't come as easy. His mind spun until he woke the next morning. Just as he told Blacktooth, he would give a call out if he needed the aid of others. He couldn't explain it, but for some reason these dangerous smells didn't seem to be targeting him with malice. Perhaps he would be able to get to the bottom of that reasoning for why they followed. It was early in the morning. The first rays of the sun barely peeked over the crystalline city scape. The alley the young Tundra stood in was still locked in nighttime pitch. Ruffling out his grey and orange mane, the young Tundra barked. "Alright! Come out! I'm bored of your stalking. Either speak or I'll call my friends to take care of you!" A powerful feminine voice made the young Tundra's core tremble. "That would be ill advised, Little Rogue." The size of the female Guardian that blocked the only land entrance to the alley was titanic. Her silhouette was a fierce array of finely crafted armor, freshly dented it seemed, strong cloth, and antlers. The horns and antlers that adorned her faded orange cranium made her look like she stepped out of a Plagueland military report. The female Guardian stated, "Because I was hired to deal with you and your friends." The harsh rasp of her statement paralyzed the young Tundra. A mercenary! A real mercenary was hired to deal with his friends and family?! His eyes narrowed and he bared the flat planes of his teeth. The few fangs he possessed poked his gums. "So why haven't you? You smell of death but are not exuding the smell of threat." The female Guardian waved a giant armored forepaw, almost dismissively from how relaxed her muscles were. "Because of that right there. For an uneducated, untrained youth to command a ragtag group there must be a clever brain, ruthless cunning, and charisma to match. I've seen the intelligence behind your eyes and the ruthless cunning you employ, Little Rogue. There is a hard learned wisdom behind your actions that I respect. It would be a shame to see that potential lost in an army of mindless fodder." Fodder. The mere word sent a rage boiling through his veins. The conscripted masses of dragons that serve the so-called deities of Sornieth were referred to only as fodder. So that was the nature of this mercenary's assignment. The young Tundra growled, "So you're here to force me to join that worthless Arcanist's army?" The Guardian mercenary snapped, "Absolutely not. My instructions were not very specific for my mission. My employer simply told me to deal with you. Therefore I shall. Let's make a deal, Little Rogue. You come with me, learn as my apprentice, and when you are old enough to earn a proper pay... You'll have the funding to do some real good. Rather than waste away here pretending to be something better than a back alley cultist that terrorizes the residents of his territory in the name of resisting the powers that be." That hurt. The young Tundra's ears folded back and a growl rippled through his chest. She made him sound so mediocre. But maybe to a big mercenary, he was. But he had to ask. "If I refuse?" "My employer would relish that action, Little Rogue. The misdeeds of your group have not gone unnoticed. Heaven's Requiem is viewed as a cancer that must be purged from the city. It would mean that I would have to bite the head off the snake if you take my meaning." So no choice at all. The young Tundra relaxed his lips, sat on his haunches, and rubbed his forepaws together. “And my family?” The Guardian shook her head. “Heaven’s Requiem must be disbanded regardless of the action you take. I can help your family find good homes. But that is the best I can do.” He couldn’t help the smile. An idea formed in his head. His family would spread out, they could gather information and still fulfill the mission of requiem. This mercenary was handing him a path to victory on a silver platter. The young Tundra answered, “Who am I to say no to a deal like that? I will take the deal, on the condition you help my family find homes Miss-?” The Guardian answered, “Ziora. Not that you’ll remember it.” The young Tundra chuckled. "Nope, already forgotten." Ziora produced a long sigh. "I don't suppose you remember your own name?" The young Tundra shook his head to the negative. "Would've forgot it by now even if my parents gave me one. So no. My family usually calls me Big Brother. But that doesn't exactly work for most situations." Ziora agreed with a nod of affirmation. Her violet gaze never lost its stern luster. "An orphan with no name. Sornieth is filled with such similar tragedies. Then I shall simply give you a name, if you would have it?" The young Tundra rolled his shoulders. "Sure, why not?" Ziora's powerful voice rumbled, "Ulric." The young Tundra liked the way this name rumbled in his gut when he recited it in his mind. He voiced, "Ulric. I like it. It sounds strong. Although, its a bit of a shame that I won't remember it." Ziora answered, "Fret not. I and others will remember it for you." Ulric looked over his shoulder toward the entrance to his family's hideout. "Thanks. Come with me and I'll introduce you to my family." ~History written by Countessoffire the owner of The Hallowed Hall Hatchery/Lore Shop 
Redmane the Scorchpaw Prowler Ulric can not clearly recall when he befriended his Scorchpaw Prowler Redmane. In his mind, he has always had the fuzzy feline as a companion. Which he assumed is why he has maintained some level of sanity despite the harrowing trials he has endured. Ulric is not seen without Redmane, especially when he is in the company of the cult that he is a member and co-founder of. The members of that cult are intimidated by Ulric's Sorchpaw Prowler. Redmane possesses a calm demeanor despite his fierce gaze. Ziora and Ferdinand expressed their concern about Ulric's shady association with the cult repeatedly however such concerns are ignored. Ulric determined long ago that it is necessary to utilize the wealth of information that the cult can gather. Travel Record
Outfit Record |
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Relations Adopted Mother: Ziora Spiritus'Unquibus Adopted Brother: Ferdinand Adopted Sister: Minima'Tinea Friend: Redmane Co-Founder: Blacktooth Translation Spirit Talon Pronunciation OOL-rick SPEAR-it-us UN-qwui-bus Aliases This is where aliases that Ulric answers to are listed. State the name and the clan that it was used in. Species Tundra |
Traveling with Ziora & Outfit when with Heaven's Requiem
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Gene Plan: Complete! Apparel Plan: 
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Clan Visited: Insert Link Here - Significant Landmark: Insert Here
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Genes: Savannah/Blend/Basic Apparel: Insert list of outfit items here |
Artwork
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Exalting Ulric 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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