Level 25 Snapper
Click or tap to view this dragon in Scenic Mode, which will remove interface elements. For dragons with a Scene assigned, the background artwork will display at full opacity.


Smoke Gyre
Click or tap to share this dragon.
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Nature.
Male Snapper
Expand the dragon details section.
Collapse the dragon details section.

Personal Style


Ethereal Flame Candles
Mysterious Mantle
Buccaneer's Seaspray Overcoat
Primal Leather Arm Guards
Bloody Arm Bandages
Veteran's Leg Scars
Brass Scale Greaves




3.81 m
3 m
7963.04 kg


Primary Gene
Secondary Gene
Tertiary Gene


Oct 18, 2014
(9 years)



Eye Type

Eye Type
Level 25 Snapper
Max Level
Jungle Slash



Birth Clan - Wild Orchard
Element - Nature
Gender - Male
Pronouns - He / Him
Orientation - Heteroromantic
Goes by - Torch

Sometimes mistaken for an Earth dragon, Torch is stubborn, self-reliant, and deeply protective of his clan. Though he may seem gruff and unrefined in conversation, his opinions (of which there are many and oft are they spoken of) are founded on principles that will protect Oakrest from dangers both within and without, seen and unseen. He has taken it as a personal mission to keep the tombs clean and the hauntings at a low.

A dedicated Hunter, he comes from a family of monster Hunters and demon slayers. His parents, the founders of Oakrest's ally, the Wild Orchard clan, are held in his mind as paragons of the job. His sisters, also famed Hunters in their own rights, are his other role models. He hopes that he measures up as well in their eyes as they do in his.

Torch's greatest strength is not in his bulk, as many may expect of a snapper. His quick thinking and ability to analyze a fight in motion have served him better than his physical form alone. He is known to rush to the protection of fellow Hunters and civilians alike, even if he's not fully sure how he might help once he gets there. But when push comes to shove, he relies on finely-honed instincts and a good grasp of gravity to see his problems to their end.

"My, what big teeth you have. But have you seen mine?"
Queller of the undead




Greystone Deer Ash Logs Bottled Embers Round Pebbles Grave Dust




Setara - Torch's mate, she is a fellow Hunter, though she specializes more in hauntings and less in revenants. She is often found in the Citadel casing common areas and private residences at the slightest hint of a problem. She takes her duties to keep the Citadel safe very seriously. She is an excellent foil to her mate, and she is sometimes the only one who can sway his stubborn nature.


Hodges - Torch's best friend, he was thought dead during a fight with the Withered King, an archlich that had long dwelled beneath the tombs of Oakrest. In truth, he had been spirited away by a final enchantment in his garments, lain there by the enchantress, Shula, and deposited in the territory of Clan Maserift, where he spent a great deal of time attempting to sort their natural spirits from malevolent ones.



- While reputed to be quite strong, he is not remarkably so. Instead, he uses his body's abilities cleverly, and is more likely to think his way through a fight than brawl his way through it.

- Head of the Hunters, he carries a great deal of clout around Oakrest, although he is often put in his place by Copperlight, Setara, and Ink.

- He has a penchant for terrible jokes and puns, and since he doesn't sleep anymore, he spends the time when others sleep coming up with new ones. His fights are littered with terrible one-liners.

- He has been many-times blessed by the favor of Earthshaker, and many view him as a paladin of the deity. Given the form of Earthshaker's own children, then touched first with gembond, then with opals, he has shown more and more devotion to the deity with every year.


- Once rather sleek for a snapper, he has started to put on bulk and weight since the clan lost Hodges. Many suspect Torch of emotional eating. He claims it's because the tombs are relatively quiet now, and he's not getting much exercise exorcising.

- Once known for the fire that dripped from his teeth in a fight, he is known now for a pair of diamond-hard jaws and a more armored frame to match. The fires all left after Shula died.


- Keep the tunnels clean.

- Keep the clan safe.

- Never be caught off-guard.


Father's Favor
The favor was not wasted, and Torch was well-marked.

Curiosity brought Torch to Oakrest shortly after the clan had moved to Greatwyrm's Breach and the younger oak had been planted. He knew that he wanted to follow in the footsteps of his family, but he also wanted to know about the land of the first god. So Torch left his birth clan and joined their ally, long before Oakrest's legendary problems became evident.

He was a mirror back then, lanky and hungry and keen like a blade. But instead of battle, he sought books, stories, and recollections. He listened carefully, slowly committing everything he learned to memory, trusting that more than his own claws and teeth. Months of study led to some surprising changes, and slowly among the stones of his clan's home, he began to change. His body became bulkier, his legs longer, his jaw ponderously larger and larger. It was obvious, soon, that he was changing from a mirror to a snapper - one of Earthshaker's children.

The clan rejoiced. To have such favor bestowed upon them was a great boon. And in time, a second favor fell upon him - small boils of molten slag formed on the surface of his flesh and cooled into crystalline plates. No harm befell him, and they were of no use as armor, but Oakrest smiled at the good omen.

The favor was not wasted, and Torch was well-marked. When the tunnels to Cairnstone were opened and the rest of the clan fled in fear, Torch remained with few others. His continued bravery and stouthearted nature were proved that day, and every day since.

Opening the Tunnel to Cairnstone

(so many WIP stuff here)

WIP WIP WIP WIP WIP WIP (this is such bad writing; I will rewrite it soon oh lord)

Torch came to Oakrest from Wild Orchard shortly before the tunnels into Cairnstone were discovered. He came to learn the old ways and join the clan, but what he did not expect was to walk into the newly-uncovered halls and witness a life-changing moment.

While he and the others walked into the enormous chambers they had uncovered, gazing in awe at the beauty of the carvings and the statues barely illuminated by the light sources they carried, one of the guardian statues was awakened after countless centuries of slumber. It attacked the curious party, and it was everything they could do to escape.

All of them ran, racing up the tunnels back to Greatwyrm's Breach and the relative safety of the sky.

But Torch remained. He and a small fae named Hodges feinted and dodged around the statue until it wrecked itself on the sturdy stone walls of the tunnel itself. Then, they stayed. They waited in the corridor together, listening for any incoming threats and hoping the others would return.

In time, the other members of Oakrest returned, and Bordeaux and Copperlight went down to see what the trouble was. When they found Torch and Hodges waiting for them, they demanded a series explanations - what had happened, how had they survived, what else had become of this problem?

The two bore witness before a formal inquiry, and it was a long time deciding whether the path to Cairnstone should remain open or be sealed.

But word traveled. And as it did, it brought with it others who were curious about this earth clan that had found some of the relics of Cairnstone in winding passageways that connected to Greatwyrm's Breach. Just how large was this tomb that had been uncovered? Just what horrors lay waiting within the chambers?

Soon, more than enough fighters had come to enlist in this investigation. The council determined that the passage would remain open, but under guard. Only those with express permission were allowed access to the darkened caverns, and only those bearing enchantments from Shula stayed for long.

Torch, though, came from a line of monster hunters. Even his sisters followed the family tradition. He wasn't about to let some great dark secret like this wait for someone else to uncover it, potentially risking their neck when his would do just as well.

He was going deep in the tombs, and if he came across a problem, then he'd deal with it.

Not planning on breeding this kid anytime soon. Gotta gene up his mate. What is money????

Layout by Straif/34928
Stat block by hisako/19016
Artists cited by name & number beneath each piece

Unyko / 42672

iglasty / 119781

LexanKrytz / 208994

StygianForm / 199107

It wasn't the first time Hodges was glad that the scarves Shula had enchanted were still working. The imperial had passed only weeks ago, but their enchantments had worn out many times more quickly than this. He sat, as always, atop Torch's head. Behind them, Ink and Drusilla trailed, quietly conversing in coatl.

They were heading deeper than many of them had dared venture before. Sixten, one of the more sensitive among the Oakrest Hunters, had marked a space beyond which he did not dare to travel. And it was only by firelight and Ink's dim light magic that they were not stumbling blindly through the winding paths.

Hodges sorted through his gear again, hearing his father remind him one could never be too thorough. The vials of sprouted vines were still tucked neatly within his bag. A blessing, really, as he and Torch were both nature dragons, and no roots from the desert above drove this deeply within the earth.

It was cold down here, but not perternaturally so. The group traveled with the ease of those who know themselves safe.

They stopped to rest several times at supply caches that had been set up along their route in preparation for this journey. They had already been gone for days, and they may well be gone for weeks or months. No one knew quite how deeply the trouble lay, but each of them knew they would die to protect their clan if that were necessary.

After a final rest, the four found Sixten's wards. Drusilla inspected them, the stone-etched runes shimmering in the dim light like the crystals within geodes. "He went no farther," she said. "Be alert."

Then, she carved another rune, and the wall that errupted behind them was visible for only a moment before it faded in the darkness.

The group, secure in the knowledge that whatever Sixten had sensed would not be able to broach Drusilla's wall, continued. It was a long hike before Hodges patted Torch on the forehead. "I feel it," he said as quietly as he could.

They were silent for a time before Ink spoke up, her common deeply accented. "As do I," she said.

The silent air grew oppressive and heavy. The blackness grew so cold it felt it might shatter the marrow in Hodge's bones. And far ahead, a single light burst into radient existence.

A low, soft laugh, like scree bouncing down the mountainside, echoed through the tunnels towards them.

"Speaking my language," Torch said, squaring his shoulders and striding forwards.

"Caution," Ink advised. "We don't know what it is."

Drusilla swept ahead, her nimble fingers and quick eyes investigating the land for runes and other traps. And by the time Torch's lumbering gait approached, Drusilla's work was already done, and the path was clear.

They paused at the edge of the light. It was clear from here that the source was a greenish flame set upon a stand deep within the chamber ahead. Hodges uncorked a vine and let it fall to the earth below. There, Torch's magic let it grow rapidly, sweeping towards the greenish light.

And when it touched it, it curled upon itself. As Torch encouraged it further, the vine progressed, but it was clear the little plant was enfeebled. The laugh struck again.

"Why don't you come in, young ones?" a voice hissed through the air. It twisted and hissed like smoke upon the breeze. And it was only after that Hodges noticed that the words spoken were not the same common that they spoke today. Some spell had twisted the spoken words so they could understand them.

Ink stepped forward and cast a magic bolt of light at the ensconced green flame. The light source flickered, then went out. Ink shot another bolt of light, this time towards the ceiling, and let it burst and shine like a chandelier.

"It should be safer now," she whispered.

The laugh again. "I grow tired of waiting, little ones. Let us begin our game."

Torch stomped his feet hard to settle them more surely in his gauntlets. "Let's go," he muttered, and the rest of them nodded in silent agreement.

Hodges took flight above his friend, and the two coatls sped in like lizards to the safety of a crevice. Torch himself charged in, and Hodges hurled several more vines to coat the floor.

"Only the four of you?" The owner of the voice was visible at last. An ancient creature, fleshless with a mouth like knives, sat enthroned upon a dais. At his feet, the skeletal remains of some unfortunate dragon had been crushed to powder beneath enormous feet that looked an awful lot like Torch's.

"Four's plenty," Torch snarled, and he charged.

The ancient creature laughed, and while Drusilla and Ink worked magic from the back and Torch soaked what got through the walls, Hodges cast his gaze upon the monstrous being. He could see the Shade struck through its mortal remains, preserved against time by the infernal pact that had been struck.

And he knew, suddenly, that there was nothing here that would destroy this creature. Hodges drew the vines up, trying to bind it. They took purchase, and for a moment it seemed to work.

Torch drew close enough to clamp his flame-blessed jaws upon the fiend, and all it did was laugh. The vines started to wither as they touched the fiend's flesh.

Torch drew away with a maw full of papery flesh. He spat it to the ground before rearing up to strike with his mighty claws. And though the blow landed upon this being of dust and whispers, the bones beneath it seemed to coalesce and heal whatever chunk Torch had taken from its form.

The being laughed harder and deeper. "Very good, young ones," it snarled. "But now it's my turn!"

It chanted in a tongue Hodges had never known before, and from the earth a howl erupted. Then, an enormous wyrm flashed forwards from the stone beneath their feet. Its narrow face ended in a piglike snout, and eyes like blue flames erupted into terrifying life. It howled again, and the bones that made up its body shook loose to reveal a phantasmal form.

It plowed into Torch, who stumbled hard before the fiend. Then it turned towards Ink, but Drusilla's wards glowed brightly before flickering out as the beast thrashed against it.

Torch drew to his feet, and Hodges swept down. "We should withdraw," Hodges shouted over the din as the phantasm thrashed towards the coatls. "We need to regroup!"

Torch glanced at his friends, then nodded. "I'll hold him. The three of you, back to the tunnels!"

Hodges took flight again as Torch once more charged the fiend, who only laughed again. Hodges hurried to the coatls. "We have to withdraw. Back to the tunnels!" he shouted, waving them towards the way they had come.

"Let it hunt you there!" the fiend spat, and a blackened sphere began to form between the fiend's wings. "But not before I take this one to nourish my form!"

Hodges saw it coming. He did the only thing he knew to do. He hurled the vines beneath Torch and shoved him out of the way.

The blackened bolt passed over the snapper's prone body. And it struck Hodges in the chest.

For a moment, everything felt like ice. He coughed hard as his fragile body struck the earth.

He saw his friends turn towards him, horror on their faces. And he reached up a hand that swiftly turned to ash.

And for a moment - just once - he heard Shula's voice echo through his head. "Not this time, friend. Not today."

And in a puff of wind, he was nothing.

Time passed like the ringing in his ears. Then, as if he had fallen from the Behemoth itself, he struck the earth one final time, his body whole and the wind forced from his lungs. An arcane sigil of teleportation still faded on the earth beneath him, and it took some time to get his wind again.

And when he could at last stand and take his bearings he realized: he had no idea where he was at all.

In the last week, Agrippa had seen all manner of trouble at the gates to Cairnstone. Troubling spirits and foul energies had rallied the Hunters and the Stonetouched to the enormous carved doors in an effort to keep the Citadel safe. The other Hunters had been recalled, but Torch, Ink, Drusilla, and Hodges were still deep inside the tombs. All anyone could do was hope they'd make it safely back to the Citadel before things got real bad in there.

Every morning, Butternut or Copperlight came by the tombs to see how things were holding up. And every morning, Agrippa gave the report - bad, but not real bad. They'd seen worse before.

And in the evenings, one of the other Hunters took over the watchdog post so Agrippa could get some sleep and spend some time with his mate, Camille, and attend to their nest of three. It was an exhausting set of days, but Agrippa wouldn't trade it - not when he looked in Camille's eyes and saw the softness, and not when he looked over their children together and saw all of their potentials.

He was on watch again when the rumbling started. Curious, as he had always been, he looked inside the doorway to Cairnstone and saw the phantasmal wyrm rearing and breaching up from the stonework and into the air before slamming back down, howling and shrieking. Ahead of it, just barely, was Torch - the embers of his enchantments practically dead, with Ink slung over his shoulder and Drusilla leaping ahead towards the doors.

The runemaker quickly arrived at the Citadel side of the doorway, her claws making quick work with what ink she had remaining. Meanwhile, Torch expertly dodged the clumsy attacks of the half-bone, half-dust wyrm that slammed again and again into the earth.

Agrippa watched Drusilla for a long moment, then remembered his duties and rang the evacuation bell. Better safe than sorry. The Hunters hurried to the gates, each one of them watching in horror as the wyrm finally got a lucky hit on Torch, and both he and Ink went sprawling.

Sterling pushed forward, as if to cross the line into Cairnstone, but Sixten held him back. "Don't," he said. "Dru needs to finish the wall. For all our sakes."

The tension soaked into the group. All of these brave, talented individuals, and none of them could fight that thing. They watched together in agonized silence as Torch scurried to put his own body as a shield between Ink's limp form and the towering wyrm.

It was then that Copperlight arrived, massive and steady as the earth he stood on. He looked over the situation, took inventory, then asked the question no one had dared ask. "Where's Hodges?"

Drusilla's claws went still for a long moment as she tried to keep her tears inside. Then, knowing the work was still more important than any of them, she scrawled more runes to cover the lintel. She couldn't or wouldn't speak.

Paige looked at Sterling first, then Sixten. "My body will disrupt the runes," she said, "but will my magic?"

Sixten stared her down, then looked up to Drusilla. "What do you think, Dru? Can we let a little light pass over your work?"

Her breath came out as a shudder, but she nodded. "I'll leave space," she said.

Paige nodded to Sterling, and the rest of the hunters gave them space as they mounted an attack on the wyrm. Bolt after bolt of blinding sunlight seared through the darkness, and the wyrm turned on them at last.

"Let's go, Torch!" Agrippa shouted. And the snapper quickly snatched up his fallen comrade and bolted towards the doorway.

He raced beneath the thrashing wyrm, and as he crossed the threshold, Drusilla sealed the last rune around the lintel. A wall of pale red errupted, and Copperlight turned to Agrippa. "Close them," he said. Then, "The rest of you, to your stations. We defend our civilians first, our comrades second. The oaks still stand strong, and so too shall we."

The others dispersed, and Agrippa stared at the enormous doors, closed for the first time in his memory. From within, the horrible shrieks of the wyrm and the distant thud of its impacts on the stones were still audible through the heavy stone doors. Agrippa stared at it in fear, then slowly backed away.

A thought struck him, horrible and distressing, and his frills snapped back in revulsion. "Camille," he hissed. His beautiful mate, one of the few imperials in Oakrest's citadel - if something like this got a hold of her, then there was nothing even the most talented Hunters could do against an emperor.

He hurried towards the docks, as it was the only place he knew she might be found.

Bio (except as credited), oak leaves, acorns, & layout by ixris / 26035 - all edits by later users
Horizontal dividers by Mibella / 47497
If you feel that this content violates our Rules & Policies, or Terms of Use, you can send a report to our Flight Rising support team using this window.

Please keep in mind that for player privacy reasons, we will not personally respond to you for this report, but it will be sent to us for review.

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.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
Seafood stocks are currently depleted.
Plant stocks are currently depleted.
You can share this dragon on the forums by either copying the browser URL manually, or using bbcode!
Copy this Widget to the clipboard.

Exalting Torch to the service of the Earthshaker will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

Do you wish to continue?

  • Names must be longer than 2 characters.
  • Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
  • Names can only contain letters.
  • Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
  • Names can only contain letters.