Daelor
(#6991)
THAT BLASTED TUNDRA ~ Unforgiven
NotFood
Fungi Sage
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Male Tundra
This dragon cannot breed until Jun 11, 2024 (9 days).
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
2.57 m
Wingspan
3.49 m
Weight
307.12 kg
Genetics
Forest
Basic
Basic
Grey
Basic
Basic
Obsidian
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Tundra
Max Level
STR
5
AGI
20
DEF
11
QCK
50
INT
124
VIT
17
MND
22
Biography
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Daelor
The Enigmatic Mage Hatched to the small Ne'rath tundra clan deep in the Starwood Strand of the Starfall Isles, Daelor seemed made out of curiosity. His parents taught him eagerly, pleased by their son's quick mind and keen thirst for knowledge. As the young tundra grew he continued to search out the clan elders and any other source of knowledge he could find. However, everyone warned him not to go into an old tower that had been closed off a long time ago. One day, Daelor's curiosity got to be too strong and he slipped off to investigate that tower. It was large, and looked so strangely out of place in the wooded area of the Strand. Daelor carefully pried loose the boards and stones blocking the entrance, and crept inside. He used a simple illumination spell to light the dark interior so he could see and when his eyes adjusted to the light they went wide with utter delight. All around the tower and up the walls along the stairs as far as he could see were books, parchments and all manner of interesting gadgets. He quickly and eagerly dove into learning from the old texts, and was drawn into a fascinating new world of arcane arts he'd never even heard of before. He greedily devoured every scrap of knowledge he could, keeping his presence at the tower hidden. He would carefully cover the entrance back up and go back to his clan before they noticed him missing and would look for him. Every free moment however, was spent in the tower absorbing lost and forgotten magics. After he had finally finished going over everything in the tower, he began to practice some of what he'd learned. Each success made him bolder to try more complex spells and experiments. Unfortunately as he grew bolder, he also grew less cautious about hiding his 'forbidden' knowledge. The elders kept hearing disturbing reports and finally decided to confront him. Daelor couldn't understand why his clan who claimed to seek knowledge and power would deny such a vast storehouse of both. He could not see how his new magic was dark or wrong as they called it, and he felt they only sought to punish him for doing what they were to afraid to do. He lashed out attacking the elders with powerful spells they were unable to counter. Several fell and he turned them back on the others calling to life those once dead, as well as other things around them that had long since become only bones. Soon the whole clan rose up against him, and he was soon overwhelmed by sheer numbers that his magic could no longer counter. He fled as fast as his wings would carry him, and vowed that he would find a place such knowledge and power could be freely studied and appreciated. Somewhere he would belong. ************** Over many years Daelor traveled, wandering through one flight's lands and into the next. Sometimes his travels were enjoyable and a few times he even tried to settle down. But his thirst for more knowledge kept him restless and he would eventually move on. He also found along his way, that if he allowed others to believe him to be dull or simple, or absentminded, they would often expect less if anything from him. They more often would just leave him alone. So he gradually stopped talking except for the very briefest of answers when pressed. One word, maybe two, only extremely rarely a full sentence if it was something really important. Often dragons would simply become frustrated or confused by his unusual speech habits and when they gave up and walked away he would simply smile to himself and go on about his business. ******************** Eventually his travels brought him into the desolate expanse of the Scarred Wastelands. His feet ached from walking, but his wings hurt even more from the last attack he'd suffered being driven out of his last would be home. His pale pink eyes scanned the wastelands and he sighed deeply. Walking across a place like this would be dangerous even on the best of days. However, trying to push himself airborne for any length of time on badly injured wings would be even more foolish. After what seemed like hours of trudging through the disease ridden landscape Daelor felt his heart nearly stop as two massive shadows drifted over him and circled back toward him. "Probably going to be eaten." He told himself pragmatically. Moments later he was nearly knocked over by the gusts of wind thrown up by the wings of a huge green imperial and a dark hued guardian. He blinked against the dust and debris hurled at him from their down sweeps as they landed. A deep rumbling growl caused him to open one eye to peek up at the imperial. Finally he gathered himself up, unwilling to be intimidated even by the monster glaring down at him. "Eat me or don't. Don't care." At that point he honestly couldn't care less as bad as his wings and feet hurt. He promptly turned his back on the imperial and began walking again in another direction. The guardian barely stifled her chuckle as she glanced over at the imperial. "Unforgiven?" The imperial growled deeply again. "It reeks of magic, some sorry reject from the arcane flight. We should kill it now." "He could be useful though, a skilled mage could be very handy." She kept her voice calm and steady, knowing the volatile nature of the Unforgiven one. Daelor's ears pricked backward and he shook his head, though he didn't stop walking. "Arcane dead clan, no clan now, not arcane." Unforgiven shook his head and looked over at Valthyra. "You can't be serious. That one doesn't have sense enough to even be afraid." Valthyra's calm gaze flicked to the shabby tundra and then she looked back to Unforgiven. "I wouldn't be so sure. Besides, how many times have you told me that you value my opinion because I'm not so afraid of you that I just tell you what I think you want to hear? Maybe you can trust him for the same reason." The imperial snorted. "You seriously expect me to trust a filthy run down mage, and a tundra at that?" Daelor stopped at that, flicking his ears against his skull. "Trust or don't. Don't care. Am Daelor. Not arcane." Unforgiven scowled, and locked the guardian in his cold ruby gaze. "Fine. You are responsible for him. Get him to the clan lands, and get him cleaned up. Or kill him." With that he sprang skyward again and headed toward the Wyrmwound. Valthyra smiled and quickly closed the distance between her and the tundra. "I'm Valthyra. Don't mind that one. Unforgiven is the clan leader because he is strong. He's usually fair, but harsh, so can take some getting used to. Come on, I'll help you get to our home lands, and you can rest, eat and heal yourself." The mention of food caused Daelor's stomach to rumble loudly, and he blinked as he realized he had no idea how long it had been since his last meal. Finally he nodded, and only had time to give a surprised grunt as Valthyra sprang upward and grabbed hold of him and took off. ************* Unforgiven studied the dull colored tundra. He had served in the clan with only a few minor mishaps over the last several years, but Unforgiven still didn't fully trust the magic. Noticing the imperial's unwavering gaze, Daelor stopped digging, having already convinced himself there were no more mushrooms to be found there anyway. He picked up the pouch full of the noxious looking fungi and strode over to where Unforgiven perched. "Want one?" He offered casually as he sat down in front of the massive green dragon and popped one of the mushrooms in his own mouth. Unforgiven rolled his eyes and snarled in disgust. "No." Daelor shrugged and picked the pouch up again and headed off toward his den. "Good, more for me." |
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Random Facts:
Daelor was the first gen1 in the clan other than Unforgiven and Valthyra who were the progens.
He's one of the few 'plentiful' breed dragons that will remain unchanged. I like him too much the way he is.
His name is elvish meaning dark dreamer.
His favorite food of all are mushrooms and he spends a considerable amount of time foraging for them.
He doesn't form personal attachments to others very often, however his two favorite companions are his mate Valthyra and a small fae who sometimes takes on the form of a spiral, named Sylvanas.
Art-
done by Moshipuppy
done by Arbokobra
done by Panicat
done by Starstar32
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This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
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Exalting Daelor to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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