Vetur
(#6582728)
Level 10 Coatl
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Energy: 50/50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
8.51 m
Wingspan
9.26 m
Weight
834.89 kg
Genetics
Rose
Iridescent
Iridescent
Ice
Shimmer
Shimmer
Pink
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 10 Coatl
EXP: 1765 / 27676
STR
6
AGI
7
DEF
17
QCK
20
INT
45
VIT
12
MND
6
Biography
VETUR
TALK: THE PROPHET "Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever" Wise | Childish | Apprehensive Lightweaver's Prophet He Who Rarely Speaks his Voice A Troubled Soul Class: Sage Weapon of Choice: Moonlight Crit: "I'm sorry but, SLEEP" Likes: Mountain onions, his familiar elk Alpine, starlit evenings Dislikes: Prying conversations, overstepping boundaries, blood
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Music/Theme Songs: IDLING Waterfall - Undertale Soundtrack Music/Theme Songs:
Don't Wait Up - Robert DeLong
Undefeatable - Parade of Lights Oblivion - Bastille |
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Vetur, the dragon of divination and harbinger of concord and goodwill. He is the clan's diplomat, with a merciful voice that can calm any rage. Fixed on drifting alone, he’s become quite detached over the years, and is often soft spoken despite his incredible charisma. Those who have had the fortune to meet this itinerant would say he’s become more removed from himself than that of the greatest of monks and can go for months in wordless silence. It seems that almost nothing can unstill the outward tranquility in his mind. He a wintry prophet born to monastery under the rule of the Lightweaver during an era long shrouded in darkness, when the flights still warred over the boundaries of their respective territories. It was said on the night of his birth, the sky snowed in the land of the light for the first and last time, and a chilling wind swept a darkened cloud across the sun. The dragons of the sun screamed out in fear, terrified of the shadow of winter that had swept across their land. In a nest of five, he was the only egg that ever hatched; his feathers white as snow and his wails silent. His parents, both lowly priests, regarded his presence as an omen, but were not allowed to cast him out under strict law of the temple. And so he was brought up under watchful eye in the sunswept hallways of the Mirrorlight Promenade, reading and learning, but rarely speaking. Keenly aware of his parents’ and the other priests’ hushed disdain, he hid himself among attics and in the deepest corners of libraries, living in complete solitude. |
No dragon had ever heard him talk and so he was regarded as a mute, shrouded in illness and death. He escaped to the Hewn City when he could no longer put up with it. On the fifth night Lightweaver found him, and looked upon him, her presence staggering. “Speak,” she commanded, and for the first time, he did. “The great priests believe me to be a plague; some form of inveterate and irrepressible nightfall. I seek to be free of this suffering, Lightweaver.” His voice was soft and pure; untouched with the pollution of dragon-tongue, and echoed throughout her ears harmoniously. He was of holy descent, she was sure of it then. The god of the undying sun stood before him, her back blocking the rays of darkness that littered the city. She spoke her prophecy then and there; |
The Prophecy “Vetur, there is something I need to relieve to you, so hear me,” she warned. “On the night of your birth the sun was blotted from the heavenly sky, and the land screamed in an uncertain terror. The winds shrieked and the world cried, but you were silent. On the morning after, when the sun lifted its light reborn over the golden hills, I had a vision. "Kings and warlords will bow at your feet, wishing nothing but to appease to you. They will beg for your voice, and for the words that remain unspoken. For there is a force within your heart that can only be awoken in the darkest of hours, and it remains untapped. It stirs, it contemplates, and it is a force that you cannot control on your own. You will be hunted for this strange influence, valued and prized, sought throughout the entire world. You must flee from here, and you must do it fast. Forces are gathering, dark forces, and they seek your voice." And so, taking heed of the sunlit goddess, the coatl fled by day, eventually finding himself in the Southern Icefield, where he wandered alone amongst the alpine reaches for months. |
Many a dragon came after him, only to find themselves lost in the snow, as he intended. He remained silent for almost a year until, one day, while fleeing from the grips of a bandit army of mirrors, he ran into a group of frosty warriors who chased the rogues away. Among these dragons was Gabriel, who instantly recognized the prophet, and bowed at his feet. They remained together after that for years, until finally settling down into the Clan of the End, the southernmost clan in all of Sornieth. He lived a peaceful life afterwards for many years, lightening up more. His true nature began to show that he was a very kind, jovial dragon underneath the icy exterior. He adopted Rem, and settled in with the clan. His 'voice' remains a secret to this day, and his visions and prophecies were almost absent; Until one day, when a strange shadowy egg found itself among the cavernous walls of the Clan of the End |
"One of the scariest things in life is when you come to realize that the only thing you can save is yourself"
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This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
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This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
Exalting Vetur 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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