Varvara
(#70484519)
Let's see where this all began, shall we?...
Baba
Goldenplains Poodle Mith
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 39/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Fire.
Female Wildclaw
This dragon cannot breed until May 02, 2024 (4 days).
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.92 m
Wingspan
5.84 m
Weight
640.92 kg
Genetics
Chocolate
Laced
Laced
Bronze
Alloy
Alloy
Slate
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Wildclaw
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
8
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
8
MND
6
Lineage
Biography
VARVARA
The Storykeeper
Kind-Hearted | Hardworking | Open-Minded
Varvara looks at you over the rim of her glasses. She carefully turns the page of the book she's stooped over, other hand holding an inked quill. As you approach closer she snaps the book shut and places her quill down with an air of something approaching impatience.
"Well?" She inquires. "What is it this time? Do you want to hear the story again? You know, you could wait until I have it all written down..."
She cocks her head to fix you in a one-eyed stare and lets out a gruff puff of air as you take a seat on the opposite side of the desk. She drums her claws and glances at the clock. It's humorous to see her act as if she has anything much better to do, as if she isn't perfectly content to recount the tale to you again. She's a story-teller; It is her passion and greatest pleasure to tell tales.
"Alright then, fine. But this is the last time I'm going to tell this story orally. Got it? You'll just have to wait until the book is done if you want to hear it again..." And with that the Wildclaw clears her throat-
| The Beginning |
The Acreron clan was first founded by Iofiel Acreron upon her and her partner Dracul settling within the frigid lands. Iofiel had been driven from her more temperate dwellings by the encroach of Wind and Fire Flight forces on the borders; Dracul left his home to help remedy the issue of overcrowding that his own clan had been facing. The two convened by chance in the wilderness of the frozen lands and shackled up into an unlikely alliance that steadily blossomed to something more. The two dragons welcomed their first hatchlings, Fiore and Glyndwr, shortly after they had finished building their first den together-- courtesy of Dracul's woodworking abilities and Iofiel's own penchant for decorating. It was very abruptly after that the two were mysteriously saddled with the Imperial brothers Ina and Philo. Although heavily unsure what exactly to do with two Imperial hatchlings, the brothers were folded seamlessly into the Acreron founding family and raised as if they were hatched by Iofiel and Dracul themselves. From there, many dragons came and went. Aeglaeca, Celio, Eclipse, Usha... and others whose names are nothing but memory. Each had helped to place a piece into the puzzle of the clan. Buildings were raised, caverns dug out, vegetation cultivated; Yet more dragons came from across the reaches of Sornieth to find the hidden lands of Acreron and call them home. As old friends said goodbye for the last time, new faces flooded in to fill their place. The chef, Ralola. The gardener, Hemlock. The skirmisher, Tempest. The peacekeeper, Chernokir. The sharpshooter, Viveon. Acreron found new venues opening before them as hatchlings were reared and good dragons raised to mundane greatness. The whaler, Canterlane, and his alliance with the Maren yielded new trade routes. The beast-master, Ashley, and his bonds with the Longnecks and Centaurs ushered in fewer border wars and deepened the trust between the Beastclans and Acreron's own dragons. Yet stranger alliances were found as the clan made acquaintance with the fearsome crime lords Vincyll and Veneer, the beggar princess Parisa, and a peculiar vigneron named Phaseolus. It worked well-- whatever it was about Acreron that drew such a variety. Despite hosting such a vast array of personalities and dragons from such different walks of life, there was peace. At least until there came a break on the horizon line... Acreron had visitors. Lots of them. Eleven, to be exact... |
She stops and fixes you with a hard stare. Almost like she's thinking about something that may or may not pertain to you... Her lips twitch before she shakes her head- perhaps dismissing whatever thought she may have been stewing on. She leans forward to adjust the lamp shade as darkness starts to creep in through the windows. The sun is already going down-- it always seems to set so much faster here.
"You know the rest already, don't you?" She asks, not unkindly. You do know it. You have known it since the first time she told you; It doesn't stop you from wanting to hear her say it. It could be a trick of the light, a playing of the shadows, but you swear you see her smile slightly.
"Well... If you need me to jog your memory..."
| The Eleven |
Hibernis was the first. A lone Tundra without a past. He spent his life scouring the fields of the Southern Archipelago, documenting everything he experienced. He always felt that there was something more, had to be something more, than just what was in the now. Where had he come from? Where was he going? He would spend his time looking outward, Northward, to the world beyond and wondering. When it first murmured to him in its deep and incomprehensible tongues, he was enraptured. This was it. This was what he had been waiting for surely. It told him there would be others. They would come one by one to meet him and he would be their guide. The one to shepherd them towards their destiny. It was he who was most important, he would would ensure that all went to plan. It was everything he had ever wanted: Purpose. The first to arrive was the Coatl, Iphris. A master craftsman of all things pertaining to metal. She claimed to have received her message through her forge- a siren's song in its irresistability. There was something waiting for her beyond her lands of smoke and flame, something more beyond the pounding of metal on metal and the grind of a stone on a blade. She couldn't say no. Not when it seemed of such dire necessity. The second to arrive was the Skydancer, Rose. An intellectual of the highest caliber and a no nonsense researcher. He came graceful from the skies carrying the crackling energies of Arcane on his wings. He was skeptical but insatiably curious. Even if the strange dreams were nothing but a creation of his subconscious, this would surely prove to be a most interesting experience. The third to arrive was the Fae, Iseult. A survivor unlike any other who had succeeded in crossing an ocean to heed her instinct, coming from the far sickness riddled lands of Plague. The silent dragon could offer no grander explanation for her arrival; She simply confirmed that she was there for Hibernis and would see the journey through to its end or die trying. The fourth to arrive was the Snapper, Quarra. A prodigy of many fields and a traveler by nature. She informed the others that she had simply felt a pull, an unignoreable urge to go where she had not gone before. She was surprised to find others there who had felt similarly and in no uncertain words confirmed that she would go where Hibernis may want them to follow. The fifth to arrive was the Imperial, Pine. A haunted but tender soul who bore the marks of a tragedy far from his fault. He was most alarmed to find that there were others who had heard the voice. He shied away from the idea that this was not all some elaborate punishment for himself, but rather a grand quest to be done not alone but with comrades. Despite his fears of burdening the group, he made the choice to stay. The sixth to arrive was the Tundra, Pandora. A wily rebel with a penchant for trickery. An outcast among her own blood and brotherhood, Pandora found herself unsure about the others she had found waiting for her arrival. The Dark Pool, she informed them, had managed to find clarity through its obscuritory film of shadows. If something were so important as to crawl through the power of the Shadowbinder herself then surely it was important enough for Pandora to heed. The seventh to arrive was the Wildclaw, Anjali. A high-strung turncoat with a thirst for the truth. A vagrant with a multitude of severed ties and alliance, Anjali came as quickly as she could to heed premonitions she believed had been bestowed upon her by the Lightweaver herself. She was agog to find what company she would be forced to keep and quickly made a nemesis of Pandora especially. Her vocal displeasure in Imperials also quickly put her at odds with the others. Regardless, she refused to depart, and instead rather stubbornly stuck around. She must see what lie at the end of this path. The eighth to arrive was the Spiral, Nereus. An eccentric seer and self-proclaimed prophet. His high energy babbling proved hard to decipher for the others. As they could tell, he had most certainly heard the same call to gather as they had. Perhaps even moreso than they had; He imparted details to them that even Hibernis could not verify. Something below the ice, something which had slumbered long and was waking now to a new world. Something that needed their help. Despite his being, well, him- Nereus proved himself invaluable in deciphering the visions that the others had been receiving. The ninth to arrive was the Imperial, Frost. A stringent and amoral leader. He made himself a quick nuisance with his natural inclination towards bossiness and his particularness about efficiency. With a temper that struck faster and harder than the element his home Flight was named after, Frost also established himself as the most dangerous member of the group very quickly. Despite his repeated aggression and shortness with the group, Frost has not yet abandoned them. It seems even he desires to know what all of this means. The tenth and last to arrive was the Ridgeback, Zizir. A spirited free-flyer without a care in the world. He landed last in the Icefields despite his close proximity and showed clear anxiety about the whole ordeal. Zizir was by far the most lax of his companions by a long shot. Although sometimes considered an annoyance by the others he provided a much needed reprieve from the sheer tension that otherwise pervades the group. |
"Did you get all that?" Varvara asks as she pours another cup of steaming tea. You nod quietly as you hold your teacup to your mouth. It was a lot of information to take in at once but you almost knew it by heart. They were a hard group to forget.
"It really is hard to believe. A group of strangers brought together despite Elemental alignment and personal differences... All to undertake some epic journey. Wish I'd thought of it myself." The Wildclaw remarks wistfully aloud. She finishes pouring her drink and sets the kettle aside. After taking a sip to wet her throat, a span of silence stretches. There's the faint sound of a the clock on the wall ticking steadily and a fainter sound of other dragons milling around and going about their business.
"Do you remember The Dig? If I recall, Casus actually departed briefly to attend it. Can you fathom? Our Casus? I'm surprised the poor thing didn't end up hacking up a lung what with all the dust that was kicked up." She laughs quietly at her own words before sighing.
"To think it really wasn't so long ago. It feels as if it happened ages ago..."
| The Statueborn |
It wasn't too long after The Eleven first made fall in the lands of Acreron that Casus returned from an expedition out to The Shattered Plains bearing news of The Dustcarve Dig. There was not too much he could impart, as he was incapable of staying on the front lines of the digging efforts, but he could tell them that an amazing discovery had been made in the last chamber. He was more correct than even he knew. It took no time at all for that very same 'Amazing Discovery' that Casus had spoken of to waltz her way into the clan. Jubilee was one of the original Obelisks, carved from solid stone and brought to life by the Earthshaker himself. She came into the world with the other Firstborns shortly after the excavators of the Dustcarve team breached their chamber. Much like her brethren, Jubilee was created with a purpose: To protect. Though she was quite unlike her Earthen siblings in that she had been broken from stone to the element of Ice. She was discovered in the back of the chamber first by the Pearlcatcher, Roana, who had felt an inexplicable draw to the particular statue when Jubilee was in her dormant state. Jubilee was ecstatic to greet the archaeologist when she shook herself free from her rocky shell-- already knowing the dragon to some degree. Roana was understandably flabbergasted at the whole series of events. She was also beyond words excited by Jubilee's mere existence and the implications of a new Modern breed of dragon entering their world. It was with great joy that Jubilee informed Roana that her purpose lay somewhere else. She quickly asked her the whereabouts of 'Acreron'. Roana was shocked at such specifics but set to work on helping Jubilee find the information she needed. That was how she discovered that there had in fact been someone who had checked into the dig site from a clan known as 'Acreron'. She had heard his name in passing but had not met the Skydancer known as Casus during his time in The Shattered Plains. Roana packed her bags before she knew what she was truly doing. If Jubilee needed to go to the Southern Icefields then so did she! There was no way she was going to leave Jubilee alone to go on such a big trip- on such a grand adventure! The two set out with haste; Jubilee's sheer enthusiasm for life was infectious to the otherwise subdued and mild mannered Roana. The two alighted in Acreron territory to the great alarm of the clan. Already they had an whole troupe of strangers impeding upon their land, needing sanctuary, and now there were yet more visitors-- including one who claimed to be of a dragon breed none of them had heard of before! Jubilee introduced herself to Casus first, overwhelming the fragile Skydancer with her affections for him. From there she moved on one by one-- knowing already each clan member by name. Roana was just as shocked as the others. This was what Jubilee had traveled so far for, was it? To protect these folk? After some explanation on Roana's part, some on Jubilee's, and further recounting on Casus's, there was a resolution reached. Jubilee was remarkable in many ways and if it was her duty to come here to their clan then she was just as much a member of it as any of them. In extension, Roana was equally welcomed to stay. The Pearlcatcher was flustered at the offer but accepted it with humble gratitude. From there, Jubilee made herself very at home. She seemed to already be in-tuned with the routes that the patrols took, where hunts and foraging took place, and much more. The only thing that none of the clan could puzzle was what exactly she was meant to protect them from. The timing of her arrival led to some suspecting she was meant to drive away The Eleven, but Jubilee herself expressed confusion at such a concept when Roana asked her about it. They were just travelers, she assured her sister-in-arms. Nothing more and nothing less. The shadow of supposed doom lurks heavy on the minds of the founding family. Yet Jubilee merely takes each day with wonder and joy. Great unease settled over the clan as Roana was contacted in particular by The Eleven. There was subject of drilling into the ice... |
You watch a strange expression take Varvara's face as her words slow to a stop. You hadn't heard this part before... What exactly had transpired between the last time she told you this story and now? You set down your empty, cold cup and inspect her carefully. She jolts suddenly and takes a sharp inhale before flashing her teeth in a way that was likely meant to be friendly.
"Could you imagine? Boring into the ice? I'm willing to bet the mere idea makes The Warden's ears burn..." You can tell it's meant to be a lighthearted jest; Something feels wrong. It was indeed a known fact that cracking open the ice was seen as incredible bad luck, be it the film of cold on a winter lake or the deep permafrost that made the expanse of the glacial lands. There were things in the ice, some said. Old things. Ancient things. Things that had existed before the ice, before the gods themselves.
"I think that's enough for the night. Don't you? Unless you really want to hear another story. I can tell you a different one this time! Have you heard about The Winter Prince? Or perhaps the story of The Little Flame? How about The White Magician? She of the Stars?" Varvara prattles off names of stories with a nervous energy as she lights another lamp. The darkness in the room suddenly feels oppressive, the light seeming to struggle to illuminate the room properly. You nod slowly-- A story, any story. Something with a happy ending...
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