Bluepearl
(#64852302)
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
Squirrel
Swift Lumen
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Pearlcatcher
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.54 m
Wingspan
6.99 m
Weight
650.55 kg
Genetics
Oilslick
Poison
Poison
Midnight
Peregrine
Peregrine
Berry
Spines
Spines
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
No food, no re-entry. Those were the rules. If you left the clan's premises, you had to come back with food, simple as that. Bluepearls knew this. She also knew that she wasn't any good at telling apart the edible from the poisonous in the Abiding Boneyard, so she was always careful to either stay within the perimeter, or leave in the company of somebody who would let her simply pick the fruits off a particular plant, keep a lookout for any approaching dragons or beastclans, carry the food - in short, anything she could do that didn't actually require her to correctly identify particular species. This meant that she had to plan trips outside further in advance than most of the dragons in her clan, but she was okay with that. Her clanmates went out often enough, and she could usually find someone who didn't mind playing escort to a young pearlcatcher tagging along on a trip to the market in exchange for an extra pair of claws to help with gathering food.
As bad as she was with foods, Bluepearl was excellent at weaving. String, vines, reeds, wool, feathers - the material didn't matter much, so long as it was flexible enough Bluepearl could make use of it. Although items of clothing - hats, bracelets, jackets and the like - were her most sought-after creations at the market, her personal favourite to make was baskets. And not just plain baskets, either. She had a knack for weaving patterns - squirrels (her Swift Lumen familiar probably had something to do with that), floral designs (very popular among those looking to buy themselves a pretty accessory), lattices and zigzags (the easiest and quickest to do) among many others that she had devised through experimentation and observation of the world around her.
Bluepearl's craft projects sold well enough and she did her fair share of chores around the clan (funnily enough, doing a particularly good job at being the cook's assistant), so she fit in fairly well in her birth clan, and enjoyed living there. It seemed unlikely that she would ever leave the clan, but there was one thing she hadn't accounted for: sleepwalking. Well, sleep-flying to be precise.
One time, a foraging party brought back some mushrooms that had seemed innocent enough, but the twelve dragons (Bluepearl among them) who had gone for a helping of mushrooms for lunch rather than the equally appetising salad prepared that that day had fallen ill. Plague dragons' immune systems being what they are, all of the food poisoning victims survived, but after a week of feverish nightmares, with wings feeling weak and heads - dizzy, the clan medic recommended they stay inside and avoid long, strenuous trips for a further three weeks in order to recover fully and properly.
Bluepearl wasn't hit as hard as some - one of the guardians had still barely felt well enough to stand when Bluepearl was already up to helping out with the chores again - but it had still affected her. Most of the nightmares had her trapped, unable to escape desperate to fly away but powerless to do so, and waking up with a wooly head and barely functional wings only exacerbated the feeling of helplessness. The nightmares stopped along with the fever after the first week, but during the second week it was clear Bluepearl had become a restless sleeper. Towards the end of the the third week, her wings had recovered enough to use them for flights of longer than ten seconds at a time and she started easing into normal day-to-day life again. During the fourth week, her clanmates reported that she had been flying around the lair at night, still asleep.
After the initial surprise, this turned out to not actually be that big a deal. While asleep, Bluepearl only visited the the main paths and corridors, along the routes which she used most frequently during the daytime, never ran into anyone, and generally went back to her room to sleep after about an hour or so. All in all, her behaviour was no more obtrusive than that of other, wakeful night-time wanderers living in the clan. So after a while, Bluepearl's night-time wanderings became just one of the many little oddities that any clan has - and pays no attention too, because the routine is not something that is often noticed.
Bluepearl adjusted fairly quickly, too. She didn't hurt anybody, others didn't hurt her, and anyway, what did it really matter what your body did while you were asleep so long as no harm was done? She started going out on market days again, and was pleased to feel that her wings were slowly returning back normal. Very much out of practice still, but no longer filling up with lead-heavy weakness after barely five minutes of flight. Life was finally starting to come back together again. Then one night she woke up with aching wings on a familiar clearing half-way between her clan and the market grounds.
Her first thought, after realising where she was and how she must have got there, was to fly back home. Then she remembered 'no food, no re-entry' rule. She thought about buying some food from another dragon, and her hopes rose for a moment when she noticed she was wearing her satchel, then fell when she remembered that she'd emptied all her money out of it the day before in order to mend the hole it had started to develop in one of the seams. So that was out. She thought about making a basket and selling it, but realised she had no materials from which to make it. Glanced at some likely-looking reeds of grass, but then remembered how long she'd been unable to do anything at all with her hands after the painful rash her last attempt to independently gather some 'likely-looking reeds' had given her, and thought better of it. Maybe she could buy some materials, and then sell the resulting craft for a profit? No, that ran into the 'no money' problem again.
Bluepearl pushed off of the ground with her legs and soared up into the air, hoping to clear her mind by flapping in lazy circles high above the clearing. However she looked at the problem, she was going to require the assistance of another dragon. The question was, should she seek it out near the outskirts of her clan, or in the town where the market took place? The latter seemed the obvious choice at first - while there were a few dragons there who were of the 'if you've ended up in this predicament, you can be the one to get yourself out of it' mentality, most took the stance of 'survive, and help others survive', while a few of the others where of the opinion that 'one should provide assistance if doing so seems profitable'. But right now was precisely the worst sort of time for trying to catch someone outside - everybody who had wanted to get anything had done so at the big market day two days prior, and the hunters and gatherers had brought in enough food the day before to last for several days at least. The regular weekly mailbox check had also just happened, and as far as she knew nobody in the clan was expecting any mail urgently enough to check the mailbox personally every day.
She didn't know any people in the market town particularly well, but she was a somewhat familiar figure there, perhaps somebody there would be willing to trust her to return with payment for the food after she took it to the clan, picked up some of the money she had so recklessly left spread out on her carpet, and found a clanmate willing to accompany her back out again and help her with the food gathering as usual. Or she could bring twice the money and buy enough food for the second trip back in as well. But Bluepearl wasn't sure whether 'she makes nice hats and cool bracelets' was a sufficient criteria for being trusted to return with money rather than skedaddle off with the goods, and she doubted that waking somebody up in the middle of the night would increase their good feelings towards her. And there were several long, long hours left until sunrise still.
Bluepearl became aware of a sensation that had been nagging her for a while. The sensation was that of her wings telling that, while they appreciated a bit of exercise once in a while, they would prefer not quite so much of it in one go, and if she didn't stop soon, then they would. Bluepearl blinked, and saw that while she had been focused on her thoughts, she had risen very high up above the ground, and could even make out the edges of Plague's territory. Her wings, now that she was taking notice of them again, were in considerable pain - she hadn't yet recovered from the mushroom incident completely, and such a strenuous flight just after waking up from a not particularly short bout of sleep-flying was rather too much for her weakened wing muscles. Hurriedly, she felt around for the nearest suitable air current and stretched her wings out on either side in order to glide gently down to the ground, aided by the wind. The air current took her in a direction halfway between her clan and the market, which, considering she hadn't yet decided where to go, seemed only fitting.
It was a relief to land on the ground at last, and Bluepearl immediately lay down and stretched her wings out flat on the smooth, grainy surface, trying to ease the overworked muscles. After a few minutes, she felt much better, and also somewhat sleepy. While she was wondering whether this particular section of the Scarred Wasteland could be considered safe enough to take a quick nap in, a voice called to her from above. "Hello! What are you doing down there?"
"Sleeping." responded Bluepearl grouchily. Her curiosity demanded that she have a look to see who was addressing her, but opening her eyes felt like too much effort. Bluepearl was overwhelmed, bewildered and tired, so all she wanted was to be allowed to see whether the situation would look better in the morning, when her head felt clearer and her wings weren't on fire.
"Oh! I saw you way up high and thought you were stargazing, or map-making."
"Nah." staying here and sleeping was seeming like a better idea every second. Most creatures wouldn't try to attack a fully-grown dragon, even one that was fast asleep, and the rock Bluepearl was resting on was so pleasantly warm...
"Wait a moment, are you lost? Were you trying to find your clan?" the voice became worried.
"I know where my clan is, I just can't go back in." Bluepearl muttered, easing her left wing into a more comfortable position and shifting her tail so that the tassel could cover her eyes. What a silly thing to suggest, of course she knew where her clan was!
"In that case, maybe you'd like to stay in our clan for a bit? We've always got a few dragons coming and going, nobody would mind."
Bluepearl was about to retort that her own clan was good enough for her, but then thought a bit more. There was nothing wrong with her birth clan, but she had no particular attachment to it either. It was just where she had always lived, nothing less, nothing more. Perhaps a change of scenery would help with her sleepwalking, too. And she could send letters to those couple of dragons she was somewhat close to...
"Maybe I could try it for a bit." she said at last, and gave a loud yawn.
"Of course! You'd be very welcome, I'm sure! Oh, I have to go now, but my friend here can stay around and show you the way when you're ready!"
"Mhm." Bluepearl murmured. She was already fast asleep.
As bad as she was with foods, Bluepearl was excellent at weaving. String, vines, reeds, wool, feathers - the material didn't matter much, so long as it was flexible enough Bluepearl could make use of it. Although items of clothing - hats, bracelets, jackets and the like - were her most sought-after creations at the market, her personal favourite to make was baskets. And not just plain baskets, either. She had a knack for weaving patterns - squirrels (her Swift Lumen familiar probably had something to do with that), floral designs (very popular among those looking to buy themselves a pretty accessory), lattices and zigzags (the easiest and quickest to do) among many others that she had devised through experimentation and observation of the world around her.
Bluepearl's craft projects sold well enough and she did her fair share of chores around the clan (funnily enough, doing a particularly good job at being the cook's assistant), so she fit in fairly well in her birth clan, and enjoyed living there. It seemed unlikely that she would ever leave the clan, but there was one thing she hadn't accounted for: sleepwalking. Well, sleep-flying to be precise.
One time, a foraging party brought back some mushrooms that had seemed innocent enough, but the twelve dragons (Bluepearl among them) who had gone for a helping of mushrooms for lunch rather than the equally appetising salad prepared that that day had fallen ill. Plague dragons' immune systems being what they are, all of the food poisoning victims survived, but after a week of feverish nightmares, with wings feeling weak and heads - dizzy, the clan medic recommended they stay inside and avoid long, strenuous trips for a further three weeks in order to recover fully and properly.
Bluepearl wasn't hit as hard as some - one of the guardians had still barely felt well enough to stand when Bluepearl was already up to helping out with the chores again - but it had still affected her. Most of the nightmares had her trapped, unable to escape desperate to fly away but powerless to do so, and waking up with a wooly head and barely functional wings only exacerbated the feeling of helplessness. The nightmares stopped along with the fever after the first week, but during the second week it was clear Bluepearl had become a restless sleeper. Towards the end of the the third week, her wings had recovered enough to use them for flights of longer than ten seconds at a time and she started easing into normal day-to-day life again. During the fourth week, her clanmates reported that she had been flying around the lair at night, still asleep.
After the initial surprise, this turned out to not actually be that big a deal. While asleep, Bluepearl only visited the the main paths and corridors, along the routes which she used most frequently during the daytime, never ran into anyone, and generally went back to her room to sleep after about an hour or so. All in all, her behaviour was no more obtrusive than that of other, wakeful night-time wanderers living in the clan. So after a while, Bluepearl's night-time wanderings became just one of the many little oddities that any clan has - and pays no attention too, because the routine is not something that is often noticed.
Bluepearl adjusted fairly quickly, too. She didn't hurt anybody, others didn't hurt her, and anyway, what did it really matter what your body did while you were asleep so long as no harm was done? She started going out on market days again, and was pleased to feel that her wings were slowly returning back normal. Very much out of practice still, but no longer filling up with lead-heavy weakness after barely five minutes of flight. Life was finally starting to come back together again. Then one night she woke up with aching wings on a familiar clearing half-way between her clan and the market grounds.
Her first thought, after realising where she was and how she must have got there, was to fly back home. Then she remembered 'no food, no re-entry' rule. She thought about buying some food from another dragon, and her hopes rose for a moment when she noticed she was wearing her satchel, then fell when she remembered that she'd emptied all her money out of it the day before in order to mend the hole it had started to develop in one of the seams. So that was out. She thought about making a basket and selling it, but realised she had no materials from which to make it. Glanced at some likely-looking reeds of grass, but then remembered how long she'd been unable to do anything at all with her hands after the painful rash her last attempt to independently gather some 'likely-looking reeds' had given her, and thought better of it. Maybe she could buy some materials, and then sell the resulting craft for a profit? No, that ran into the 'no money' problem again.
Bluepearl pushed off of the ground with her legs and soared up into the air, hoping to clear her mind by flapping in lazy circles high above the clearing. However she looked at the problem, she was going to require the assistance of another dragon. The question was, should she seek it out near the outskirts of her clan, or in the town where the market took place? The latter seemed the obvious choice at first - while there were a few dragons there who were of the 'if you've ended up in this predicament, you can be the one to get yourself out of it' mentality, most took the stance of 'survive, and help others survive', while a few of the others where of the opinion that 'one should provide assistance if doing so seems profitable'. But right now was precisely the worst sort of time for trying to catch someone outside - everybody who had wanted to get anything had done so at the big market day two days prior, and the hunters and gatherers had brought in enough food the day before to last for several days at least. The regular weekly mailbox check had also just happened, and as far as she knew nobody in the clan was expecting any mail urgently enough to check the mailbox personally every day.
She didn't know any people in the market town particularly well, but she was a somewhat familiar figure there, perhaps somebody there would be willing to trust her to return with payment for the food after she took it to the clan, picked up some of the money she had so recklessly left spread out on her carpet, and found a clanmate willing to accompany her back out again and help her with the food gathering as usual. Or she could bring twice the money and buy enough food for the second trip back in as well. But Bluepearl wasn't sure whether 'she makes nice hats and cool bracelets' was a sufficient criteria for being trusted to return with money rather than skedaddle off with the goods, and she doubted that waking somebody up in the middle of the night would increase their good feelings towards her. And there were several long, long hours left until sunrise still.
Bluepearl became aware of a sensation that had been nagging her for a while. The sensation was that of her wings telling that, while they appreciated a bit of exercise once in a while, they would prefer not quite so much of it in one go, and if she didn't stop soon, then they would. Bluepearl blinked, and saw that while she had been focused on her thoughts, she had risen very high up above the ground, and could even make out the edges of Plague's territory. Her wings, now that she was taking notice of them again, were in considerable pain - she hadn't yet recovered from the mushroom incident completely, and such a strenuous flight just after waking up from a not particularly short bout of sleep-flying was rather too much for her weakened wing muscles. Hurriedly, she felt around for the nearest suitable air current and stretched her wings out on either side in order to glide gently down to the ground, aided by the wind. The air current took her in a direction halfway between her clan and the market, which, considering she hadn't yet decided where to go, seemed only fitting.
It was a relief to land on the ground at last, and Bluepearl immediately lay down and stretched her wings out flat on the smooth, grainy surface, trying to ease the overworked muscles. After a few minutes, she felt much better, and also somewhat sleepy. While she was wondering whether this particular section of the Scarred Wasteland could be considered safe enough to take a quick nap in, a voice called to her from above. "Hello! What are you doing down there?"
"Sleeping." responded Bluepearl grouchily. Her curiosity demanded that she have a look to see who was addressing her, but opening her eyes felt like too much effort. Bluepearl was overwhelmed, bewildered and tired, so all she wanted was to be allowed to see whether the situation would look better in the morning, when her head felt clearer and her wings weren't on fire.
"Oh! I saw you way up high and thought you were stargazing, or map-making."
"Nah." staying here and sleeping was seeming like a better idea every second. Most creatures wouldn't try to attack a fully-grown dragon, even one that was fast asleep, and the rock Bluepearl was resting on was so pleasantly warm...
"Wait a moment, are you lost? Were you trying to find your clan?" the voice became worried.
"I know where my clan is, I just can't go back in." Bluepearl muttered, easing her left wing into a more comfortable position and shifting her tail so that the tassel could cover her eyes. What a silly thing to suggest, of course she knew where her clan was!
"In that case, maybe you'd like to stay in our clan for a bit? We've always got a few dragons coming and going, nobody would mind."
Bluepearl was about to retort that her own clan was good enough for her, but then thought a bit more. There was nothing wrong with her birth clan, but she had no particular attachment to it either. It was just where she had always lived, nothing less, nothing more. Perhaps a change of scenery would help with her sleepwalking, too. And she could send letters to those couple of dragons she was somewhat close to...
"Maybe I could try it for a bit." she said at last, and gave a loud yawn.
"Of course! You'd be very welcome, I'm sure! Oh, I have to go now, but my friend here can stay around and show you the way when you're ready!"
"Mhm." Bluepearl murmured. She was already fast asleep.
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Exalting Bluepearl to the service of the Shadowbinder 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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