Thora
(#65916507)
Level 25 Wildclaw
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Nature.
Male Wildclaw
This dragon is on a Coliseum team.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.29 m
Wingspan
6.55 m
Weight
526.34 kg
Genetics
Fern
Petals
Petals
Banana
Bee
Bee
Marigold
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Wildclaw
Max Level
STR
102
AGI
41
DEF
10
QCK
60
INT
6
VIT
30
MND
11
Lineage
Biography
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No matter what the challenges life gives you, always stand tall and proud. Be grateful for what you have, and live your days to the fullest. That’s how i live, and that’s what made me survive for a long time... . . . Dark shadows, misery, fear and tears. Circumstances all the habitants of the darkest corner of the undying empire lived with. And just like the rest of them, he sipped from the same cup of terrible events and hard life from the moment air burned his lungs for the first time. An abusive and drunkard father, a gentle yet helpless mother, and him. Just an infant that’s curious about the world, but the shackles of poverty held him down to a dark abyss. Every day of his young life was marked with a bruise by his father. If it wasn’t him, his mother would have them instead, yet she always kept silent, never spoke and only smiled every time the horror was over, as her little boy approached with tearful eyes, holding back the sobs to not fuel the beast’s anger again. “Don’t worry my dear, it will be okay. Mommy’s okay…” He always knew her reassuring him was nothing but a white lie, but the whiteness started greying slowly until it became really dark. As dark as the corners of the town, and its sound suddenly faded away when he saw his mother sleeping on the ground, skin covered with dark blue and purple marks and bloody wounds, emerald eyes open wide ,making him witness the very last tears coming from them. “Keep sleeping mommy… dad won’t hurt you like this… I’ll tell you when he’s gone… and we can leave together mommy...” He was young, and he believed that she’d wake up again someday, and he could live with her again happily. Only for him to wake up the next day, on the spot where he slept soundly next to her, to find her gone. His voice soft and sad, as his lips shivered calling for his mother, but she wasn’t anywhere. His tiny body froze at the sight of his father, body slumped on the floor as the smell of cheap liquor itched his senses. He was scared, holding his breath as he watched him trying to reach out for another bottle, only for him clumsily knocking it down, making it roll all the way to the boy’s feet. His father drunken eyes followed, stared at him for a while as a chuckle followed, aiming with a hand gesture for the child, “Hey there son… Thora… be a good kid and give daddy the booze,eh?” Hearing his father calling his name for the first time only sent shivers down his spine, but he couldn’t help but obey. Taking small and slow steps as he held the large bottle with his small frail hands. Stretched out his arms as his eyes clenched, only to feel a tight and suffocating embrace. He wanted to break free from his father’s arms, run away as far as possible. But where's the escape? When his father started letting out tears and apologizing for the hurt he put his family through, only making the kid tear up and sob as quietly as he can. Years went by, and the abuse never subdued. Everyday was a survival game for Thora, either running away from an angry and furious merchant he stole from or escaping his father's anger fits, saving his own skin from another well marked bruise. Becoming a thief was his only escape from all the gruesomeness he experienced daily, but there was nothing else that made him happier than that. And it was his only excuse to be free from his father’s grip even if it was temporary, visiting his grandmother every chance he got. “Nonna! I’m here! I can stay a little longer today!” His smile only bloomed when he was around her, she was the best thing he ever had, and always looked up to her. She on the other hand loved him dearly too, the little sunshine that made the dark days better. Only barrier that kept them from living together was his father, her daughter’s husband. The one who took her away from them and broke their peace. Thora always dreamt of the day where he’d leave him and go live with his nonna without him ruining everything for them. . . Secrets cannot be kept for too long around the slums, and when one is revealed, nothing good comes out of it. But little did the infant know that the happiness he gathered from his grandmother will not last for the remainder of his day. Entering the rundown shed he called his house, a strong scent of alcohol burned his senses, making him clasp his hands around his nose tight. He carefully walked around scattered bottles on the ground, carefully as every inch of his body yelled for him, as if expecting the worst to come. It was quiet. Too quiet, that it only made him grow more nervous. His skin froze when a sudden rumbling voice spoke up behind him, the last person he wished to see. “Ye got a nice pair’a wings boy…” Heavy, and drunk again, he sneered as his son quickly turned around, clumsily knocked a bottle down and caused it to shatter. The man angrily stood up, making his way towards his son, crashing every bottle on his way under his feet. Shoving the little boy face down to the ground, glass injuring his tender skin. Pinning him down with all form as he screamed, squirmed, cried and begged for his father to let him go. Only for his plea falling on deaf ears as the man pulled out his large dagger, cutting his wing off clumsily, messy, blaming it on the crying kid for moving too much. Blood splattered everywhere, and he was still so suddenly, making it easier for the ******* to cut off his second wing. He was proud of himself, admiring the bloody scenery he caused for a little, then leaving the shed mentioning burning the wings. Thora was helpless. He lost a lot of blood. And for a whim he felt his mother’s hand gently caressing his wounds, calling out for him to join her. Slowly closing his eyes, he drifted away to his own neverland. It was dark, quiet, peaceful. Most importantly, his father was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t know for how long he laid there. He never saw his father again, but that was his last thing to worry about. His wounds were burning, his body was very numb. Too numb for him to even move. He thought it was all over for him, that was the end of the road for him. A miserable and helpless ending on the hands of his own father. Just like it happened to his mother. Tears fell down heavily from his emerald eyes, and the softest of sobs left his mouth, only for his ending to be changed by faith when he heard the lovely voice of his grandmother running towards him, as she gently held his weak body on her arms. That day, he knew he was saved and a new page of his life started. . . . Years passed by, even though it was a hard life, nonna and thora never fell apart, they only grew closer and provided the best they could for each other. They even stepped ahead and started saving orphans around this dark town, in the hope of making better individuals out of them. Nonna was experienced with medical treatments thanks to her late husband, and Thora learned everything he could from her, and with his theft skills, they survived longer. Grandma never liked what he did, but she couldn’t go against it unless she wanted everyone in her small, new family to starve. Thief was his flaw, yet he was a good man and with a sense of justice, aware of his wrong doings but tries his best to make up for it. Another stroll around the dust district, yet a really special day for all thieves and burglars. The rumor of a noble foolish enough to visit their rotten corner of the city spread around like wildfire. Not able to resist such a golden chance, Thora himself decided to join in and get some few coins to feed his family. It all went smoothly until watchers spread around chasing any suspicious individuals, him included. And unfortunately, he was caught among many others. . . Getting caught wasn’t as bad as being chosen to be a knight. Especially with his feminine looks and stubborn personality, Thora received way too much unwanted attention. Everyday was a fight for him in the military camp, but he stood his ground for all he knew his entire life was how to survive. He hated every passing second of it, and always cursed the damned oath that kept him chained down. All he wanted was just to be near his little family and watch over them. Yet he had to bite it down but to accept his new life, and provide for his family with the money he gets as a soldier. Training, standing guard, and avoiding harassment. This was his new routine. And if lucky enough, he gets to write letters to his family and receive from them. Which wasn’t too much of a good news for him since he was bad at reading and writing. He only learned to endure it all, and wait for the day he’s allowed out of the camp walls. . . Another day. Same events. Or that’s what he thought. As he was walking back from his guarding duty, he heard a hussle nearby. Curiosity in him poked him around to check, sugar coating it with the excuse of still being on duty. But little did he know, his decision was a bad one. As his face slammed hard against the floor, and the one pinning him down, much stronger, telling him he was under arrest for attempted assassination. Thora’s mind went blank as he heard those words. He screamed and shouted that he was innocent. Yet no one believed him. And who’d believe a criminal who was forced into war? Nobody was innocent. He wasn’t nervous. Rather more angry at the injustice that fell upon him. Accused for something he didn’t do. And he knew how it’d all end for him. Down the dark pit of hell, his soul fed off to the hungry jaws at the end of it. It was the same fate decided to everyone involved around him. Yet he never quieted down about his innocence. Shouting it one last time won’t hurt. But his fate has yet to be decided by the general. a vicious man, brutal and merciless. He had no chances to be heard once words of judgement fall from his mouth. And to his surprise, he was not thrown with the rest, and told that the general had another punishment for him. Confused, Thora was dragged to the arena where he was beaten up with no mercy by the high general. He felt every bone cracking inside his body every time he was tossed around so easily. His body all bruised up, and blood was gushing out and spilling quickly from every wound that was cut open on his skin. But thora never stopped. Too stubborn to give up so easily for the accusation. Body too frail and beaten to a pulp, yet he stood up again and fought with all what’s left of his energy. Until he couldn't stand no more. He was spared. Everything went forgotten, as if it never happened. Thora was furious, angry, and he hated the general’s, Bernstein, for how he treated him. The glimpse of him was enough to fuel his hatred. Only for all of it to ease and change when he got saved from being murdered brutally in the battlefield by the same man he despised the most. Since then, his view of Bernstein changed a lot. He felt indebted to him, or that’s what he convinced himself with. A harsh training became the norm for him ever after that battle. Bernstein whipped him into shape, put him through the harshest of exercises, only to make him able to survive the war. Thora didn’t like it at first, since he was the only one going through it, yet he grew to tolerate it, even to like it at some point. Slowly growing to like the general’s company. Even if it meant attracting jealous comrades attention to him. He didn’t care anymore. Years swayed by, and his feelings were less conflicted and more clear. Debt wasn’t what made him stick around him. A silly little crush that he tried to push for too long, only grew and bloomed into pure love. Yet he was too shy and insecure to talk it out. To tell him that he’s the one his heart had chosen to belong to. Thinking how slim the possibilities were for Bernstein loving him back. Thora preferred to keep quiet and just enjoy his company while he’s allowed to, enjoying every new experience he gets to have with him around. It hurt him, but he decided to smile through it all. After all, he’s just a doll faced maggot that crawled out of the dust district. Was nothing like the many admirers that sought Bern's attention. . . . . He was very drunk. Words came out slurry and incomprehensible out of his mouth, only to be followed by an uncontrolled giggle and his head resting on the counter of the bar. Large emptied glass in hand, as his gaze shifted from it to the person that sat near him. Eyes like the color of fire, and a skin splattered with a million freckles. He loved it. Would never get tired of this view. He giggled once more as he called out for him, only for his wasted brain to fail form the next words he wanted to say so eagerly for a long time. Bernstein just chuckled in response, few words were spoken but Thora couldn’t catch them well. His mind was demanding for him to spill the word he longed to say. But none came out. Squinting his eyes as in a hopeless try to get himself a little sober to speak, only for bern’s words awakening him from his drunken state as butterflies fluttered wildly inside his chest, “Me has fallen for ye, Thora.” “Can’t help it, don’t want to. Me loves ye.” If he ever felt happiness before, this was nothing compared to the previous ones. He was so happy to hear those words. Unexpected. Too good to be true. He couldn’t help himself but smile very widely, hiding his blushing face, all followed by a sweet laugh. “Me too, big guy.” his emerald eyes shone bright as he softly stared back at his now, beloved. “I’ve always loved ya, and waited for yer words.” |
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This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
Meat stocks are currently depleted.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Thora 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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