Anomal0car1s' dragon Aoife

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

11.39 m

Wingspan

16.05 m

Weight

10474.12 kg

Genetics

Platinum
Jupiter

Pearl
Peregrine

Cherry
Lace

Hatchday

Aug 25, 2021
(2 years)

Breed

Adult
Guardian

Eye Type

Shadow
Unusual

Level 1 Guardian

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Nela
Nebulai

Offspring

none

Biography

Warrior Princess
Aoife
{ /ee-fa/}
Name Origins:Warrior princess character from the Ulster Cycle of Irish Mythology

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STATS

Aofie has trained her whole life with an iron will to become the best warrior there is. Whilst not currently occupying the top spot, she is pretty darn close.

No different than any other dragon.

Aoife has literally no magic skills. She never trained in it- too busy working on dodges or quick knife slashes to really care.

While intelligent with strategies for battle, Aoife was raised in a castle as a princess. As such, her and her sisters weren't taught well, or even really at all. And that didn't really change when she was kicked out.

Generally quite charismatic. She did have a period directly after being kicked out where she was very sad and unenergetic, but her bar fight with the old mirror changed that.

Despite the unlucky circumstances of her birth and then being kicked out, Aoife has become a little luckier than the average dragon. Though probably not enough to notice.

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RELATIONSHIPS

NAME
Relationship
Short description~

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INVENTORY

Biography
written by Anomal0car1s

Aoife isn’t the prettiest dragon. Far from it, actually- in fact, the whole reason she has her name and the life she lives is because she isn’t the nicest on the eyes. Originally from esteemed royalty, she was exiled by her mother because she ‘didn’t live up to the family standards’. So, Aoife had to make do.

The name Aoife generally means ‘warrior princess’, which suites her well. Though she hadn’t always had that name. After winning her first fight fresh out of her ex-family’s land, the dragon she won against dubbed her Aoife, which soon replaced her actual name, Pothos. He thought it suited her well, as the word had spread far that the king and queen had decided to exile their daughter because of the way she looked. Aoife also managed to get a rusted old dagger out of the fight.

Now, after travelling virtually all over Sornieth, Aoife is a learned warrior. Quick on her feet and even quicker with her wit, she’s a dragon not to be reckoned with. But despite the hardened shell developed through years of fighting, she still holds the pain of not being wanted by her own mother just because of her outward appearance. And if you want a one way ticket to a rusted dagger straight through your neck, sneer at her imperfect and battle-scarred scales.

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It was dim and dusty in the pub. Sunlight streamed through a small, dingy old window situated high above everyone. The bartender, a similarily dingy pearlcatcher, stood behind the counter, washing out old and cracked bottles and glasses.

And Pothos’ feet were killing her. It had only been a day since her mother had kicked her out, but a day of walking for a young dragon who’d been pampered her whole life up until this point was hell. She sighed and waved the bartender over with a broken claw.

“I’ll have another water, please.”

The tired-looking pearlcatcher grabbed her glass and filled it up for the 20-somethingth time. Just as before, she guzzled it down in mere seconds and set it down beside her, before lettig her face sink into her claws. Tears began to stream down her face, cleaning off some of the accumulated dust.

How am I ever going to do without my family? The thought raced through her mind, followed by a second, harsher one. They don’t need me, but I need them- heartless! She clutched the fins on the side of her face, squeezing so hard she began to draw blood. Recoiling, she slumped defeatedly as blood began dripping down her neck.

“Ma’am, I’m gonna have to ask you to bleed outside.” The bartender spoke up, as he motioned to the door. Pothos slid off her barstool and trudged outside with a sigh. As she opened the door, a voice spoke up.

“You alright? Jesus, can’t tell blood from tears.”

“Yeah, I just- I dunno, going through a tough time.” As she squinted her eyes in the sunlight, she managed to get a better look at the dragon she was speaking to. A seemingly older mirror, holding a stereotypical peice of straw in his mouth. As he turned back to the old gravel road in front of them, Pothos did a double-take. He was half-blind; missing two of his four eyes.

“Ah, you must be that ‘Pothos’. Mother kicked you out, eh?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“They released a description of you. Couldn’t miss those ugly scales if I tried!” His heavy irish accent transformed into a strange chuckle when Pothos’ face turned bright red form both anger and embarrasment.

Suddenly, as anger filled Pothos to bursting, she lashed out at the mirror. He recoiled as her claw connected, spattering blood all over the ground. In an instant he had struck back, opening a small wound on Pothos’ face. But she managed to get back at him- by using her smaller size to her advantage and latching her dull claws into his back with all her might. He screeched as blood pooled around her claws and tried to shake her off, but to no avail. Finally he collapsed in the dust.

“Ah, you wench. I outta call you ‘Aoife’-” He panted.

“Don’t make fun of me.” Pothos growled as she unlatched her claws and stepped off of the obviously dying dragon. Despite being on death's door, he still seemed to have a good sense of humour left in him. He struggled to his feet.

“Yeah, that’s what I’ll call you-” He paused to hack up a spatter of blood. “Aoife.” The mirror was wiping his lips with his claw as he finished. “Warrior princess character.”

“I. . . actually kind of like that.” Pothos admitted. Maybe she’d call herself Aoife from now on.

“Also, take this. It’ll do you more good than me.” The mirror handed her a dagger, with it’s blade heavily rusted. Aoife hesitated.

“What am I supposed to do with it?” She asked incredulously.

The mirror held up a claw before coughing for a minute. By the time he had finished the pool of blood growing beneath him had expanded. “Think of the havoc a flake of rust could do to a dragon once inside.” Reaching out, he scraped off a single flake of rust before collapsing on the ground. “Now go- run before they catch you.” He grinned as the light began to fade out of his two remaining eyes. Aoife nodded and began to run away, dagger still clutched in a claw.

She vowed to be that single flake of rust, destroying her parent’s kingdom from the inside out, warrior princess known throughout the lands as a menace. She’d remember that old mirror. She’d thank him.

art/images, etc. here

Coding and stat bars made by Disillusionist. Vista BGs are from Hazeledpoppy's FR blog.
"Theme" music graphics made by Diamondsuits.

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Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.

Exalting Aoife 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.

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