Cyne
(#79240843)
Level 1 Obelisk
Familiar
Ancient Fungus
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Obelisk
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
10.94 m
Wingspan
17.21 m
Weight
5916.42 kg
Genetics
Smoke
Skink
Skink
Silver
Spinner
Spinner
Black
Contour
Contour
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Obelisk
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
8
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
6
INT
5
VIT
8
MND
6
Lineage
Biography
| _____ |
CYNE ___ROUGHNECK HEALER |
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 gender/ female, cis affiliation/ mercenaries friends/ |
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Cyne wanted to be a blacksmith. An armorer, specifically. She wanted to feel the metal beneath her hammer, wanted to see it give and make way for a form that would preserve her comrades. To not only be strong herself, but to make everyone stronger. Leaning over the anvil, mallet pounding white-hot iron and steel and copper made soft from the even hotter blaze of the furnace, filling the near-claustrophobic smithy with suffocating heat, only exacerbated by...thick layers of all-natural Obelisk mane, curls trapping every bit of sweat and smudge of soot...dangling quite close to that white-hot metal... So, uh, that didn't pan out. Not even when Cyne shaved her locks down to the hide in a VERY ill-advised fit of stubborn denial. Aside from looking like a naked pup, she itched like a dastard for months. At least the local Ridgebacks took pity on her. Tonics and lotions left over from their own shedding season - and meant for scales, Plagues pass them - found their way to her doorstep. In any case, Cyne returned to action with a full coat of hair and a reluctant acceptance. She didn't get nothing done during all that time, though. She got into medicine. Those ointments didn't do a lot for the less-scaled patchy parts of her hide, but she was desperate, and bored, and had some herbs lying around. So she experimented. She read - some. It worked out well enough, in the sense that the ointment worked "somewhat" instead of working "a little bit." It wasn't much, but. Well. Ya know. She didn't really know what to do after that, but she sure as sin wasn't going to stay inside after being cooped up, so she traveled. Saw the sights, broadened her perspective, all that. Got on as hired muscle, sometimes, to fund her travel. Hopefully, she'd figure it out along the way. It didn't really happen. What did happen was this: she'd be stuck working with mercs that didn't bother to think to bring a shrimpy mage healer into their testosterone-fueled Meathead Brigade, one would get hurt and whine, Cyne would use her half-understood medical "knowledge" to set and plaster it up, they'd start calling her over any time they got hurt, repeat. It wasn't so much that she found her calling than it was her falling victim to typecasting. Well, she's stuck with it now. Cyne might set a bone like she's trying to re-break it and do CPR as though hammering on an anvil, but it gets done one way or another. |
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This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
Feed this dragon Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Cyne to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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