Dunkarooba » Lair » Rosdor

Rosdor

(#7870938)

Level 25 Mirror

Familiar

King Quillrunner

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

7.81 m

Wingspan

4.48 m

Weight

447.58 kg

Genetics

Ivory
Ripple

Rose
Seraph

Pink
Underbelly

Hatchday

Nov 18, 2014
(9 years)

Breed

Adult
Mirror

Eye Type

Arcane
Common

Level 25 Mirror

Max Level

STR

129

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

Biography

Rosdor

Ex-Matriarch and Huntress
1nd Tier: Royalty

"Prove your worth."

Once the supreme ruler of the clan, Rosdor has since stepped down to allow Kairos to rule as queen. Rosdor still hunts for the clan's meat, but she's left politics behind her. When she isn't hunting, she devotes her time to the Arcanist, or to getting to know her clan's dragons better.

Mate: Rosette. At half Rosdor's size, Rosette is a Mirror that was once a Spiral, made to change by Rosdor herself. His colours suited her better than her last (exalted) mate, but she refused to mate with any species other than Mirror. A trip to the black market and a magic scroll later and Abalone's husband became Rosdor's. Though she reviles his weakness and size, she tolerates him for his colours to pass on to their offspring, that their pink shades might please the Arcanist.

Proving Worth

Rosdor sat, whip-like tail curled over her feet, pink eyes boring into the brown ones five feet from hers. She could hear Gerudo drawing breath in the quiet outside the lair's front entrance, could hear above and behind her the shifting of Dewdrop and Amulet at the apex of their towers, claws plucking their bowstrings... and waiting.

"Prove your worth."

Rosdor saw that this dragon did not become warm... rather, his body temperature was still, cool. What little eyes she had narrowed, all four. The Earth dragon, pearl soiled and placed carelessly right on the ground, said nothing. Rosdor turned her head to see her King Parda looking up at her, waiting for the signal.

"Have you no worth?" she asked the dragon, prodding him.

The Pearlcatcher lowered his eyes, seemingly thinking. Rosdor's claws flexed in the dirt, and just as her head turned to give the word to her Parda, he spoke.

"I... am a potter," he said, now rolling his pearl around, still not looking at Rosdor, "I have pieces to show you, but they are simple bowls and flower pots. I cannot make weapons from clay-"

"Show me these bowls and such then."

The Pearlcatcher looked up from his fidgeting, eyes flying open and for once looking the warrior Mirror in the face. Rosdor saw in that moment his temperature spike, a warmth deep in his chest. "You... care to see them?" he asked, half-heartedly reaching for his satchel.

"I would. If they are awful, I have no use for you," she said, eyeing the bag he was pulling out. He let his pearl sit in the dirt as he pulled about his bag with both hands, flipping up the flap and reaching in with all speed. Rosdor sat back on her haunches, proffering both hands for the Pearlcatcher to place his work in.

He set one of his bowls in her hands, and she set about inspecting it. It was a medium size, small enough that Rosdor could fit her hands around its width and have the tips of her claws overlap. Its colour was a mix of blues, all blending together in such a way that the colour itself seemed to form waves of water. The bowl gleamed in the sun, its glaze shining and flawless. Rosdor turned it over, and the bottom was evenly flat, and in the very middle was carved the name "Valentine".

"This is your name, 'Valentine'?" she asked, and the Earth dragon nodded quickly. She extended her arms, giving the bowl back, and Valentine took it, eyes darting between her and it.

"And... what did you think?"

"It is art." Her tone told him nothing. Still, he thought the worst. He moved to put away the bowl.

"I would buy it from you now... with, what, fifty thousand treasure as a signing bonus?"

Valentine froze. "Signing... bonus?"

"Yes, money as an offer for you to join my clan permanently. As I said, the bowl is art. I intend to make the one you showed me my preferred earthenware for my meals, and I'm sure more of them would be nothing but an asset."

"Yes, as you said... they are art. That's what I'm-"

"Confused about?"

Valentine swallowed, eyes pulled in as though in pain, as though this was all a joke. He nodded. "I... I showed up to this lair only because I was on my way to another and thought I might stop and try. I thought the Starfall Isles would be where I could find a clan that appreciated art, the finer things, beauty. And I...."

"You expected no such thing from me." The Parda growled, feline and wild, but Rosdor waved a hand toward it in dismissal. The Mirror closed her eyes. She wondered then, with unusual lucidity, how best to word her response.

"To fight without flinching, see all who come across me as threats... to flare my frills at merchants and bare my teeth at priests... it is my way. It is the way of many Mirrors. But it is not the way of my clan. My clan is many. To lead a clan of every breed but lead it only as a Mirror would insult those who are not Mirrors. My clan respects me as a protector, acknowledges my Mirror blood, but any accusation that I lead my clan by fear... it is an insult. It is a spit on my honour—I who lead with strength, but not terror. That is not the way of the Mirror, but it is my way, my clan's way. My anger, my suspicion... it is out of protection. I do not wish to garner a reputation as a beast. Perhaps... perhaps it is time I gathered a council of ambassadors.

"But that is a different matter, one that doesn't concern you." Rosdor got up, stretching her back and wings, bird skulls clacking as she did. "Come now, potter Valentine. We'll see to it my trade master and architect fit you with a workspace and allowance."

Valentine got up, gathering his pearl and satchel and following after Rosdor, looking up at Gerudo in awe as they stepped inside the lair. "I... do have a question though," he directed at Rosdor once they were past.

"Yes?"

"So... the other dragons will probably ask what you told me when I asked to join the clan... what should I say you told me?"

The lair's stone walls rebounded the bark of laughter Rosdor made.

"They know not to ask."

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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 Rosdor to the service of the Lightweaver 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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