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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.3 m
Wingspan
5.35 m
Weight
700.18 kg
Genetics
Tan
Python
Python
Ice
Noxtide
Noxtide
Slate
Peacock
Peacock
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Wildclaw
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
8
AGI
9
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
__________• Stórmerki Sanctuary | The Foolhearted | ASPIRING WARRIOR
____ | ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ | ____ |
"what a heavy burden is a name that has become too famous"
___ |
Being the son of greatness wasn't a simple thing. One could think it irony, that Stórmerki found himself tormented by the same troubles that'd once tormented his father, but it was an unavoidable shadow following him always. Which was why he could not live in Valhall, constantly surrounded by the reminders of his esteemed parents. Given that he held no talent for the magical arts, Stórmerki sought to find a path for himself, and the Fates were surely taunting him when they blessed him with a talent and interest in the ways of war. There was an allure in battle, he found, and swords fit his claws perfectly. Being clad in thick armour and with sharpened claws soothed his turbulent soul. And it haunted his father. Perhaps it truly was in his blood, to crave battle and violence, or perhaps it was a demon spawned from the bitterness that'd brewed in his chest all along. All he knew was that the way of the warrior would be his. The countless warnings and harsh reprimands for wishing to feel war against his own hide never truly settled into his bones. Young and foolish, Stórmerki knew only whatever sudden urges and cravings his fickle self knew in the moment. There was hunger and there was food, there was weariness and there was rest, and then there was pain and there was relief. What more truly mattered in life? With his lofty, selfish dreams in place, he settled onto the journey towards bringing pride onto himself, his clan, and his family name-- out there, somewhere, was the battle that would secure his place in history. The one that would change everything. He could feel it. | ___ |
|
_____SON OF GLORY
One day, his name would be spread by hushed whispers between awed dragons swapping stories in taverns. Stórmerki would become a name of history, a noteworthy character in the grandness of the world-- he would make it so or he would die trying. |
___ |
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________ » One of the sons of Kvasir, the Valhallan Master of Magic. Has struggled with the burden that comes with that legacy since he hatched. Yes, that's kind of ironic. » Trained under some of the finest Valhallan warriors when he was a child. When he left Valhall's lair, he was already proficient in most weaponry and basic battle tactics. » Some have called him the kind av flaugun, a mildly offensive Valhallan term that translated reads child of flight, but means weakhearted. » Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. |
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
Feed this dragon Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
Exalting Stormerki 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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