Nyara
(#668435)
Level 2 Spiral
Familiar
Ethereal Trickster
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Spiral
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.19 m
Wingspan
2.85 m
Weight
73.67 kg
Genetics
Aqua
Iridescent
Iridescent
Fog
Shimmer
Shimmer
Blackberry
Lace
Lace
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 2 Spiral
EXP: 331 / 641
STR
5
AGI
9
DEF
5
QCK
8
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
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NYARA
COURTIER OF THE NIGHT 
Masked Witch
|
There is a group of dragons, the stuff of legend, that is said to take contracts for almost any sort of dirty work one can imagine. Espionage, assassination, the Night Court does it all. They are based in no one territory, have no one motivation, and have no secret signal to know each other by. Nyara is one of these uniquely skilled dragons.
It has been a long time since Nyara was- what is the word the young dragons use nowadays? - relevant. It has been even longer since she was young, or pretty, or vivacious, or any of those other things youth prides itself on, in its shortsighted foolishness. No, Nyara has been around for so long she can barely remember her age. Nyara cares little for things like that. She sighs and clucks her tongue at the children and “adults” of this age, keeps to herself, and only interacts with dragons under the guise of a mask. When Nyara was young, the world seemed fresh and bright. She was surrounded by a loving family and the bright, welcoming sun of the Lightweaver. In her younger days, she struggled tirelessly for truth, doing her best to record on stone tablets both sides of the history being made all around them as fairly as she could. Everyone was an idealist back then. The Lightweaver spoke often, the warmth of the Hewn City was all Nyara knew, and her claws seemed perfectly suited to carving words carefully into history. Back then she scorned pursuits of happiness. She disdained wealth. She didn't see how happy she was, how wealthy in love and support and food her entire family was. Despite the light that surrounded her – she thinks now, bitterly, when she thinks of this at all – she was so blind. The blindness continued as long as Nyara could keep it. When she saw injustices, she sometimes spoke for truth, but more often decided to record what she saw as the truth and keep her mouth shut in the present. She saw other dragons tell only one side of history, making the excuse that other accounts would balance their own. Instead of standing on her principles, Nyara agreed and didn't stop others from distorting their accounts. There was no one sin she committed to make herself fall from her own esteem; instead, it was a thousand little things, a million little corruptions, until one day Nyra looked in the clear water of the bay and realized she didn't recognize the dragon she had become. She didn't know how to stop the change. Her younger self would have hated her – now, where Nyara once demanded truth and equality, she stayed silent as unfairness perpetuated itself all around her. She had never acted wrong, but in doing so, she had never acted right. But- well, it's a difficult thing, to come to terms with the fact that you have become everything you used to hate. By the time Nyara realized this fully about herself, darkness was creeping over the Hewn City, and most of her family and friends were fleeing. Nyara couldn't leave. She didn't want to try and face herself in a different place, to try and leave the territory she'd been in all her life. So she stayed. But without the support of her family, she quickly realized the value of money (which she had none of) and hunting skills (which she had even less of), and resorted to thievery in order to get by. This is where she found the Night Court. She was caught with her claws in a box of jewelry, at a masquerade party, by a Courtier who had been tasked with the murder of this party's host. The courtier blackmailed her and enlisted Nyara's help. Once upon a time, Nyara might have warned the nobleman and saved his life. Now, she simply shrugged, shut the lid of the chest, and asked, “What's in it for me?” One explanation later, one demonstration of Nyara's talents was all it took. She swore herself to the Night Court and began drawing assignments and pay. She has had many, many losses in her life, too many to count up in any volume. Losses of friends. Losses of mates. Losses of her old beauty, of her family, of the children whose names she barely remembers now. This is why she is masked, and this is why she is reclusive – she does not wish to expose herself to these little hurts any longer. With the money she's saved from her Night Court missions, she has a lovely den furnished underground in the Hewn City, and she plans to stay in the halls of her birth for the rest of her life. However long that may be, she is prepared. Thievery, murder, it's all just a job to Nyara. She has abandoned the ideals of her youth. |
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Exalting Nyara to the service of the Stormcatcher 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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