Caldarr
(#73529277)
Level 1 Bogsneak
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 47/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Lightning.
Male Bogsneak
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
8.72 m
Wingspan
4.71 m
Weight
548.57 kg
Genetics
Ice
Iridescent
Iridescent
Ice
Facet
Facet
Ice
Gembond
Gembond
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Bogsneak
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
7
INT
6
VIT
7
MND
6
Biography
Caldarr xxx Retired Veteran
Asteo anxiously clutched the tray of duneberries in his tremling claws, gaze trained on the worn wooden door before him. The inhabitants of this lair often shared the duty of servicing this room, however Asteo had never been inside before, nor did he want to. This room belonged to the old Lightning veteran, Caldarr. From what Asteo had heard, he was a cranky old bogsneak with a low tolerance for fuddling about, most responsible for his care left with a hearty shock of electricity and an earful of insults. Taking a deep breath, the fae dragon used his tail to work the door open, and nearly shouted when a frigid wind blasted him in the face. The interior of the room was nearly bare, save for a bizarre icy formation in the center of the room. Rubbing his eyes with a free claw, he squinted at the strange object before him. Wasn’t Caldarr a Lightning dragon? Asteo barely had time to ponder before the icy formation moved and spoke.
“Whatch’ye gawkin’ at, boy? I haven’t eaten since yester’de…Gimme the food and git.”
Asteo gasped. As he carefully crept towards the verglas-coated...thing on careful toes, he was able to properly observe the limp shape of what appeared to be a bogsneak laying before him. Almost the entirety of Caldarr’s scales had been covered in glittering ice crystals, clustering here and there on his unmoving, paralysed body. A particularly large outcrop of spiked clung to his left shoulder, jutting out and spearing through the membranes of his left wing, awkwardly forcing it open. Chunks of ice stuck painfully out his face and neck, his scarred, battleworn flesh barely visible under its glimmer. Asteo noticed what appeared to be the tattered remains of a soldier’s uniform and sword still clinging to his waist, hip and feet, fused and frozen in place by rime. As Asteo stared, he noticed the strained expression on the old dragon's face, seemingly one of the only parts of his body that he could still move. Sharp cyan and bronze eyes stared back. ”Ye are hearin’ me right? You deaf or somethin’?” Caldarr growled, a deep clatter of ice resonating from his throat.
“Uh-yes-um yes! Sorry sir!” Asteo stammered, unable to take his eyes off the deep, frozen scarring covering the old bogsneak. He glanced around for a table before carefully setting the tray of berries on the slippery ground at his feet. Caldarr spat, baring his teeth. “Th’ ice is heavy, and me feet don’t work like they use’tuh. Can’t move. Damn ice drag’ns...” Asteo, apologising profusely, swept the tray closer with his tail so that Caldarr could barely reach by twisting his heavyset neck.
Asteo allowed his fans to fall flat before taking his leave, hoping over the congealed ground and to the door. He was about to close it behind him until he heard a rattling grumble which he turned to hear. “Thanks’ye sonny, ye friends always leave’em at the door, can’t move.” Caldar clutched at an ornate copper bracelet on his left wrist with old, shaking hands. Asteo nodded politel. “M-mighty nice bracelet you have there, sir.” Asteo squeaked, slightly more confident. Caldarr barked a raspy laugh, twitching the arm with his bracelet slightly. “Work on ye confidence there, kid. An old geezer like me has seen too many battles to be a threat. I'm just old, froz'n bones now.” Asteo nodded and reluctantly smiled, shutting the door. He collapsed on the (albeit warmer) floor outside in relieved anxiety. Work on my confidence? Try talking to a frozen old dragon like that and NOT trembling.
Asteo anxiously clutched the tray of duneberries in his tremling claws, gaze trained on the worn wooden door before him. The inhabitants of this lair often shared the duty of servicing this room, however Asteo had never been inside before, nor did he want to. This room belonged to the old Lightning veteran, Caldarr. From what Asteo had heard, he was a cranky old bogsneak with a low tolerance for fuddling about, most responsible for his care left with a hearty shock of electricity and an earful of insults. Taking a deep breath, the fae dragon used his tail to work the door open, and nearly shouted when a frigid wind blasted him in the face. The interior of the room was nearly bare, save for a bizarre icy formation in the center of the room. Rubbing his eyes with a free claw, he squinted at the strange object before him. Wasn’t Caldarr a Lightning dragon? Asteo barely had time to ponder before the icy formation moved and spoke.
“Whatch’ye gawkin’ at, boy? I haven’t eaten since yester’de…Gimme the food and git.”
Asteo gasped. As he carefully crept towards the verglas-coated...thing on careful toes, he was able to properly observe the limp shape of what appeared to be a bogsneak laying before him. Almost the entirety of Caldarr’s scales had been covered in glittering ice crystals, clustering here and there on his unmoving, paralysed body. A particularly large outcrop of spiked clung to his left shoulder, jutting out and spearing through the membranes of his left wing, awkwardly forcing it open. Chunks of ice stuck painfully out his face and neck, his scarred, battleworn flesh barely visible under its glimmer. Asteo noticed what appeared to be the tattered remains of a soldier’s uniform and sword still clinging to his waist, hip and feet, fused and frozen in place by rime. As Asteo stared, he noticed the strained expression on the old dragon's face, seemingly one of the only parts of his body that he could still move. Sharp cyan and bronze eyes stared back. ”Ye are hearin’ me right? You deaf or somethin’?” Caldarr growled, a deep clatter of ice resonating from his throat.
“Uh-yes-um yes! Sorry sir!” Asteo stammered, unable to take his eyes off the deep, frozen scarring covering the old bogsneak. He glanced around for a table before carefully setting the tray of berries on the slippery ground at his feet. Caldarr spat, baring his teeth. “Th’ ice is heavy, and me feet don’t work like they use’tuh. Can’t move. Damn ice drag’ns...” Asteo, apologising profusely, swept the tray closer with his tail so that Caldarr could barely reach by twisting his heavyset neck.
Asteo allowed his fans to fall flat before taking his leave, hoping over the congealed ground and to the door. He was about to close it behind him until he heard a rattling grumble which he turned to hear. “Thanks’ye sonny, ye friends always leave’em at the door, can’t move.” Caldar clutched at an ornate copper bracelet on his left wrist with old, shaking hands. Asteo nodded politel. “M-mighty nice bracelet you have there, sir.” Asteo squeaked, slightly more confident. Caldarr barked a raspy laugh, twitching the arm with his bracelet slightly. “Work on ye confidence there, kid. An old geezer like me has seen too many battles to be a threat. I'm just old, froz'n bones now.” Asteo nodded and reluctantly smiled, shutting the door. He collapsed on the (albeit warmer) floor outside in relieved anxiety. Work on my confidence? Try talking to a frozen old dragon like that and NOT trembling.
TEMPLATE "DO IT FOR THE AESTHETIC™" BY XEMRISS
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Exalting Caldarr to the service of the Tidelord 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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