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Personal Style
Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
0.94 m
Wingspan
1.18 m
Weight
2.15 kg
Genetics
Violet
Stitched (Veilspun)
Stitched (Veilspun)
Nightshade
Patchwork (Veilspun)
Patchwork (Veilspun)
Abyss
Runes (Veilspun)
Runes (Veilspun)
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Veilspun
EXP: 865 / 5545
STR
5
AGI
6
DEF
5
QCK
8
INT
8
VIT
5
MND
8
Biography
xxxG R I E Fxxx
n., deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone's death
n., deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone's death
My mother Allure follows closely in the malevolent footsteps of her ancestry. Malevolent. I would not have called it that as a child, caught up in devotion to a parent who never seemed truly to see me. What child does not wish to be seen, to be noticed, to be cherished? For a time I basked in her intermittent regard, all the more valued as it was so rare. As I grew I saw patterns. This generous affection was but sparingly granted, and only in recompense for something she desired.
What she desired most was some kind of proof of devotion. My childish efforts, my mystical castings and creations were only of interest to her to prove my love. My excitement, my explorations and my thoughts and feelings were as nothing to her. To any of my so called family.
They named me Grief, hoping that I would spread it. That I would use my talents to draw in and then break the hearts of others. I am ashamed to say that angry over the lack of true regard, true affection, this seemed appropriate to me. At first.
What she desired most was some kind of proof of devotion. My childish efforts, my mystical castings and creations were only of interest to her to prove my love. My excitement, my explorations and my thoughts and feelings were as nothing to her. To any of my so called family.
They named me Grief, hoping that I would spread it. That I would use my talents to draw in and then break the hearts of others. I am ashamed to say that angry over the lack of true regard, true affection, this seemed appropriate to me. At first.
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Meeting Spleht
It was at the GreensKeepers gathering that for the first time Grief considered leaving her clan. It was an alien thought, and at first she rejected it. Just because that gold and brown hatchling was picked up and kissed after a tumble didn't mean anything. Just because a golden hued skydancer happily twirled and sang with all comers didn't mean that she was really nice; she had to be in it for the money. And the fact that she handed back a coin to a tiny fae hatchling and pointed to a cotton-candy-and-grub stall that still had a few items for sale - wait - that didn't make sense. Grief looked around. What did it mean?
"She is cute, isn't she." The affectionate voice came from nearer than she would normally let a stranger approach and when she glanced in that direction from a patterned dragon so garish he should have been visible from quite a distance.
"I'm Spleht." He said, and then held out a colorful swirl of spun candy and grubs. "Would you like one? It's a pleasure to share with a new friend."
She looked at the candy; the blue and silver chitin of the scarabs counterpointed by the pink and yellow of the spun sugar. A gift. A gift for no reason other than an offer of friendship. She didn't know what to do or say.
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Exalting Grief to the service of the Gladekeeper 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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