Skydust » Hibernal Den » Spriggan

Spriggan

(#82707901)

Morality is foreign to non-practitioners. (G2 Imp)

Grendel

Elk

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

30.39 m

Wingspan

18.17 m

Weight

6426.99 kg

Genetics

Antique
Poison

Murk
Bee

Amber
Glimmer

Hatchday

Dec 15, 2022
(1 year)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Water
Bright

Level 1 Imperial

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

none

Biography

350g. 4th G2 Imp get! This one is from Tysha’s lovely pair (tysm for the sale) who I found looking through Dragon Search. The parents give me fairy/Grimmsnarl vibes! So...now I have a fairy, an extraterrestrial ambassador, a pirate captain and a former elemental being. A nice variety!

S P R I G G A N

Fair Folk • Storyteller

There are many ways in which stories can start, and there are even more ways they can end. Some tales start with a chosen child being cast out, stolen, or given away to prevent misfortune. Some tales start with their protagonist being shielded by their loved ones in an effort to stop some some doom-filled prophecy coming into fruition. Some tales start with an unassuming nobody who came from nothing, rising to fame via tricks or their own honest merits. Be it the chosen one or a tale of rags to riches, there are many ways a story can begin. So, why don't we start at the beginning?

B I O G R A P H Y

____________________________

Spriggan had always enjoyed weaving tall tales. Some he told from a place of truth, a hero exonerated to legendary status via exaggerated details of their life. For dramatisation naturally. He couldn't help himself. There was a need to tell an interesting story, a want to impress ingrained into his very being. The truth was something he likened more to a suggestion, a set of guidelines and nothing more. Some were stories of myths, things he had only heard or dreamt of, drawn from the recesses of his mind. Some stories were retellings from others he enjoyed hearing. Of course, they wouldn't mind if he took a few liberties on the details. After all, everything has to be fresh and interesting. He was a storyteller, not a historian. No one came to him for facts and truth. They came to be entertained. All of the strange sprites, goblins and nymphs always gathered around him to hear what he had to say, and none really cared if it was true or not. While he spoke, they listened, and while he wove his words, the problems they worried about didn't exist. For them, it was serenity, and for him, it was what he enjoyed doing. But, as he told his tales, a few curious but not brave enough to ask wondered what Spriggan's own story was. He was someone who seemed so strange, different in a way that was almost ethereal.

____________________

B I O G R A P H Y

____________________

Some would agree that its not who you're born from that matters, but what you do with your life that counts. Spriggan would agree. To Spriggan, it didn't matter if you came from royalty or a linage of strong warriors. If you were a singer, a songwriter, a cook, or a storyteller. No, it is who you are that counts. The life you chose now, and the paths you took via your own decisions, are far more important than the goals and ambitions set before you by your parents. Once upon a time, Spriggan may have been born from a prestigious line of dragons. In another place, another land, he would be seen as a prince, a member of royalty. Perhaps, to a few dragons at least, he may have even been a god. But here, in this small clearing in a vast, untameable forest full of mystery and intrigue, he was just Spriggan. He was quite larger than most magical creatures, one of the few dragons that seemed to enjoy the lifestyle most of them shared. He enjoyed his company and the tree he called home. He was different, and that was alright. Even if his scales seemed to change, mirroring the foliage and world around him, he didn't care. He knew who he was. That was all that mattered. He was here to make others happy, and to keep the place he lived in safe. None would harm the ones who listened to his stories. Though, a few pranks never hurt anyone, right?

____________________

╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮
"Faries often steal away beloved babies and leave a changeling child in their place. Many consider this immoral, but there are many reasons why these substitutions are made. After all, Nature has always operated on its own terms."
╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯

code

Lore by Yukirochisu.
I wrote the little bit in green at the bottom cx

ORIGINAL LOOK: Petals, Butterfly, Glimmer

COMPLETED: 11th March 2023 (Bee bought)

~*~

SCATTER LOG: Fairy aesthetic
START: Thicket/Blackberry/Charcoal
Turquoise/Peridot/Fog
Cornflower/Ivory/Shadow
Plum/Cornflower/White
END: Antique/Murk/Amber

Imperial Chibi Adopt by StygianInk

A spriggan /sprɪdʒən/ is a legendary creature from Cornish folklore. Spriggans are particularly associated with West Penwith in Cornwall. Spriggan is a dialect word, pronounced with the grapheme <gg> as /d͡ʒ/, sprid-jan, and not sprigg-an, borrowed from the Cornish plural spyrysyon 'spirits'.

Spriggans have often been depicted as grotesquely ugly, wizened old men with large childlike heads. They were said to be found at old ruins, cairns, and barrows guarding buried treasure. Although small in stature, they have often been considered to be the ghosts of giants and retained gigantic strength, and in one story collected by Robert Hunt, they showed the ability to swell to enormous size. Hunt associated these spirits with the hillfort known as Trencrom Hill in Cornwall.

Spriggans were notorious for their unpleasant dispositions, and delighted in working mischief against those who offended them. They raised sudden whirlwinds to terrify travellers, sent storms to blight crops, and sometimes stole away mortal children, leaving their ugly changelings in their place. They were blamed if a house was robbed or a building collapsed, or if cattle were stolen. In one story, an old woman got the better of a band of spriggans by turning her clothing inside-out (turning clothing supposedly being as effective as holy water or iron in repelling fairies) to gain their loot.

On Christmas Eve, spriggans met for a midnight Mass at the bottom of deep mines, and passersby could hear them singing. However, it was not spriggans but the buccas or knockers who were associated with tin mining, and who played a protective role towards the miners. Based on the collections of Robert Hunt and William Bottrell, Katharine Briggs characterized the spriggans as fairy bodyguards. The English Dialect Dictionary (1905) compared them to the trolls of Scandinavia.

A sculpture of a spriggan by Marilyn Collins can be seen in Crouch End, London, in some arches lining a section of the Parkland Walk (a disused railway line). The sculpture was installed in 1993. If walking along the Parkland Walk from Finsbury Park to Highgate station, the Spriggan is to the right just before the disused railway platforms of the former Crouch End station. To the left, on the southside of the Parkland Walk is Crouch Hill Park where Ashmount School has been located since January 2013. The sculpture is sometimes mistaken for the Green Man or Pan.

Spriggans have been featured as fey creatures in the Dungeons & Dragons roleplaying game since the 1980s. Additionally, Spriggans - in the style of the Parkland Walk sculpture - can be found in The Elder Scrolls series of video games and they are portrayed as females.

(Wikipedia)

Stealing this ok thanks Cirrus

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Exalting Spriggan 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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