Saffron
(#70878249)
Level 1 Skydancer
Familiar
Breezeback Slink
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Nature.
Female Skydancer
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.52 m
Wingspan
6.28 m
Weight
397.25 kg
Genetics
Saffron
Wasp
Wasp
Spearmint
Constellation
Constellation
Goldenrod
Firefly
Firefly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
100
Chef
Former Resident of the Silent Crow Outpost
Cautious Diligent Discerning
T H E M E: Lakehouse
Saffron didn't mean to be just another member of the growing roster of private chefs who are hired and fired by the Silent Crow Outpost. When she first came across the job listing, it seemed too good to be true. A paid private chef for a waystation in the Tangled Wood with room and board included? A fully stocked kitchen and tearoom? What was the catch?
At first, it appeared that there wasn't one. Saffron still kept her wits about her. She grew up in the Viridian Labyrinth in a good-sized town in the Gladeveins. It was a much safer environment than most of the Tangled Wood could offer and she was well aware that she was taking a calculated risk by showing up to answer the job listing. When she first arrived, all seemed well. And all was well. But something seemed slightly...off.
The outpost was nestled in the depths of the Wood, far off from any possible tourist route. Saffron was the sole chef in a charmingly antique kitchen attached to a dining room and tea counter. It was clean, if not bright, and Saffron was quickly introduced to a sweet, young waiter who was to work under her. The owners -- an intimidating Tundra and an elegant Fae -- didn't stop by Saffron's kitchen until nearly a month into her new job. They never came in together, either. The Fae was conversational and her brisk formality was softened by a layer of warmth. She ordered tea with honey, thanked Saffron, and then disappeared for another couple of weeks. That was how it went. The other owner, Saffron would come to learn, did not even attempt to manufacture warmth.
The Tundra was large and broad and always wore a heavy coat. He spoke sharply and often asked for meat, which Saffron pretended not to be offput by. Even on her rare visits to the Scarred Wasteland before the tension between Plague and Nature mounted, Saffron had never seen a Tundra eat meat.
She carried on for some months like this, preparing meals and drinks for the travelers who passed through, sleeping soundly in the provided bedroom while music played downstairs late into the night, and occasionally exploring the Wood on her days off. It wasn't until she really started talking to her waiter that things started to get dangerous.
Sunbeam was the son of one of the owners. Saffron figured that out a few weeks in. He was waifish and quick, darting between tables with his serving cart loaded with plates. The cart was the only thing that allowed him to serve larger dragons -- he was small and besides that, often sick. Saffron figured this out pretty quickly, no matter how carefully Sunbeam tried to save face. He got dizzy now and again and Saffron swore he almost fainted once. Regardless, cordial conversation between the two of them quickly turned to genuine camaraderie. Saffron told Sunbeam stories of the Gladeveins and in return, Sunbeam let a few things slip that perhaps his mother would rather he keep quiet.
He spoke of shipments of gemstones, volatile potion ingredients, and rare books that came in and out of the outpost through the side doors. He spoke of the Technical Department's offices on the second floor of the outpost and how he was never allowed to go there. With oblivious naiveté, he told stories of previous cooks and hired guards who asked too many questions and disappeared shortly thereafter. Saffron kept her poker face intact, but internally, she was buzzing with realization. Whoever she worked for, whatever the specifics of what they were doing -- they weren't the good guys.
Saffron kept her guard up and her head down after that. She looked for any sign, any hint, any little crack in the facade of the Silent Crow that might indicate what was really going on there. She didn't come up with much, aside from the occasional double-take or uneasy feeling. Whoever was running the place, they were discreet. After months of racking her brain, trying to think of an excuse to leave her position as cook, an opportunity came. A botanist friend of hers back in the Viridian Labyrinth sent a letter asking if she wanted to come back and help with researching the effect of Plague magic on plants near the border. It was a technical, academic project, nothing like what Saffron was usually interested in, but she leapt at the chance and announced her departure just a couple of days after the letter arrived.
She was sad to leave the Tangled Wood and even sad to leave the Silent Crow, in a way, but the more she thought about what Sunbeam had said, the more she felt that she had made the right decision. That place would haunt her, she knew. But better for it to haunt her than for it to take her life.
Lore written by Serafin/310769
Chef
Former Resident of the Silent Crow Outpost
Cautious Diligent Discerning T H E M E: Lakehouse
Saffron didn't mean to be just another member of the growing roster of private chefs who are hired and fired by the Silent Crow Outpost. When she first came across the job listing, it seemed too good to be true. A paid private chef for a waystation in the Tangled Wood with room and board included? A fully stocked kitchen and tearoom? What was the catch?
At first, it appeared that there wasn't one. Saffron still kept her wits about her. She grew up in the Viridian Labyrinth in a good-sized town in the Gladeveins. It was a much safer environment than most of the Tangled Wood could offer and she was well aware that she was taking a calculated risk by showing up to answer the job listing. When she first arrived, all seemed well. And all was well. But something seemed slightly...off.
The outpost was nestled in the depths of the Wood, far off from any possible tourist route. Saffron was the sole chef in a charmingly antique kitchen attached to a dining room and tea counter. It was clean, if not bright, and Saffron was quickly introduced to a sweet, young waiter who was to work under her. The owners -- an intimidating Tundra and an elegant Fae -- didn't stop by Saffron's kitchen until nearly a month into her new job. They never came in together, either. The Fae was conversational and her brisk formality was softened by a layer of warmth. She ordered tea with honey, thanked Saffron, and then disappeared for another couple of weeks. That was how it went. The other owner, Saffron would come to learn, did not even attempt to manufacture warmth.
The Tundra was large and broad and always wore a heavy coat. He spoke sharply and often asked for meat, which Saffron pretended not to be offput by. Even on her rare visits to the Scarred Wasteland before the tension between Plague and Nature mounted, Saffron had never seen a Tundra eat meat.
She carried on for some months like this, preparing meals and drinks for the travelers who passed through, sleeping soundly in the provided bedroom while music played downstairs late into the night, and occasionally exploring the Wood on her days off. It wasn't until she really started talking to her waiter that things started to get dangerous.
Sunbeam was the son of one of the owners. Saffron figured that out a few weeks in. He was waifish and quick, darting between tables with his serving cart loaded with plates. The cart was the only thing that allowed him to serve larger dragons -- he was small and besides that, often sick. Saffron figured this out pretty quickly, no matter how carefully Sunbeam tried to save face. He got dizzy now and again and Saffron swore he almost fainted once. Regardless, cordial conversation between the two of them quickly turned to genuine camaraderie. Saffron told Sunbeam stories of the Gladeveins and in return, Sunbeam let a few things slip that perhaps his mother would rather he keep quiet.
He spoke of shipments of gemstones, volatile potion ingredients, and rare books that came in and out of the outpost through the side doors. He spoke of the Technical Department's offices on the second floor of the outpost and how he was never allowed to go there. With oblivious naiveté, he told stories of previous cooks and hired guards who asked too many questions and disappeared shortly thereafter. Saffron kept her poker face intact, but internally, she was buzzing with realization. Whoever she worked for, whatever the specifics of what they were doing -- they weren't the good guys.
Saffron kept her guard up and her head down after that. She looked for any sign, any hint, any little crack in the facade of the Silent Crow that might indicate what was really going on there. She didn't come up with much, aside from the occasional double-take or uneasy feeling. Whoever was running the place, they were discreet. After months of racking her brain, trying to think of an excuse to leave her position as cook, an opportunity came. A botanist friend of hers back in the Viridian Labyrinth sent a letter asking if she wanted to come back and help with researching the effect of Plague magic on plants near the border. It was a technical, academic project, nothing like what Saffron was usually interested in, but she leapt at the chance and announced her departure just a couple of days after the letter arrived.
She was sad to leave the Tangled Wood and even sad to leave the Silent Crow, in a way, but the more she thought about what Sunbeam had said, the more she felt that she had made the right decision. That place would haunt her, she knew. But better for it to haunt her than for it to take her life.
Lore written by Serafin/310769
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Exalting Saffron to the service of the Arcanist 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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