Aasmund
(#838775)
Master of Whispers
Familiar
Heckling Hydrena
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Wind.
Male Spiral
This dragon is hibernating.
Expand the dragon details section.
Collapse the dragon details section.
Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.24 m
Wingspan
3.26 m
Weight
99.72 kg
Genetics
Forest
Swirl
Swirl
Mint
Toxin
Toxin
Spearmint
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Spiral
Max Level
STR
126
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
58
INT
5
VIT
11
MND
5
Biography
Aasmund of Nowhere
| __ |
__ Aasmund keeps to himself. He sits apart from the others, watching, but rarely does he join the world around him. Participating is not a part of his agenda. To most, Aasmund is the recluse with the old locket that disappears when you ask about it. He is the one that hums songs so old the words have been scrubbed from the memories of most and the one that guards secrets with a fiery intensity that burns. To others, he is the loyal friend with the sketchy past and terrible jokes. He's the one that cares but isn't sure how to show it, the one that awkwardly slinks into the room and hopes nobody notices. And to the world, Aasmund is the shadow that keeps Valhall safe. He is the one working himself to the bone for every trial, the one that shares his recipes for discreet poisons under the table, and the one that ensures those sentenced for a crime are guilty. |
___
 ╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮ the Master of Whispers Toxicologist Behavioural Analyst ╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯ | __ |
| __ |
Aasmund wears a light-hearted, silly persona like armour. It is what he shows the masses, the mask he dons when honesty is not an option, and what has kept him alive for so many long, dreary years. Trying to get a read on him is a pointless endeavour, an exercise in futility, and only the most stubborn even try. He hides his intelligence flawlessly behind jokes and carefully constructed nonsense, wielding incompetence like a weapon, but there is a beast lurking beneath the innocent exterior. One prepared to do whatever it takes to achieve the results he desire. But Aasmund is the furthest thing from the oblivious sweetheart he pretends to be. Beneath the kind smile is a ruthless thing prepared to do whatever needs to be done. He is happy to shoulder the burdens of ugly work, to shield the clan he's come to care for from certain parts of life he has already drenched himself in. Aasmund smiles and wields his intelligence like a blade solely so others will not have to; so those he considers friends may rest easy at night. For when he cares, he cares deeply. The few he considers his are not privy to much more than the rest, but he is honest enough with them to admit there are things he does not wish to speak of. The very closest ones, however, know enough. It is not a position easily earned, for Aasmund lives and breathes suspicion and mistrust, but it is possible to become one of the few Aasmund brings tea in the evening and jokes freely with. His affections do not come out through words, but through actions, and the little things matter most. Going out of his way to share his favourite tea blend means more than most would think. | __ |
| __ |
   
|
__ » He might love tea, but Aasmund loathes the wisp fruit blends more than life itself. Will absolutely be cross with anyone offering it to him. » One of the most difficult dragons to get a read on—he knows how to fool others when he wants to. Most will never know whether he was truthful or not. » Aasmund has considerable knowledge of most things toxic and generally unhealthy. He steadfastly will not elaborate on why or how. | __ |
| __ |
Aasmund remembers the wind, strong and full of life, as it danced through the clan grounds. The bright sun above, a whispered song, and laughter chiming like a thousand bells. He might have been happy. This many years later, he cannot recall, and his early years are full of faceless shapes and nameless beings. There is little left to salvage from that time, he thinks. Logically, he knows he had a family, had siblings to bicker with and a home, but it has become distant; faraway like the memory of a dream. It would do him no good to linger on it. But Aasmund remembers much of this time after. He cannot recall why he left his birth clan, why he decided the world outside was better, but he set off as a dragon barely grown with too many dreams and no sense. What went down between here and there remains a mystery. What is known is that Aasmund spent years out in the world, slumming it on his own and discovering an unprecedented talent for conning others out of their valuables. He fell in with the wrong crowds, got attached to the wrong dragons, and learned all the wrong things. Having the reading comprehension of a hatchling did not stop Aasmund from being an excellent thief, after all, and few could lie as smoothly as he. One thing led to another, and another, and another. Aasmund learned how to manipulate those around him, how to pretend he belonged, how to run a scam like the professionals. A career criminal, some would call him. Aasmund liked to call himself a free spirit; an entrepreneur with healthy-ish morals. He met the world head on with only a scratchy locket and his own skills, tackling every bump in the road with an impeccably cheery mask. Reading the subtle cues of those around him became one of the things he excelled at. Aasmund prides himself on being able to sniff out a liar from ten feet away and trying to steer a conversation in any direction he does not want is nigh on impossible. He knows. Reading the body like most read books, Aasmund figured out ways to truly master manipulation. He'll talk circles around the best of them. With a keen mind and a sharp tongue, Aasmund weaves his way through a conversation without revealing a thing, babbling on and on without ever saying anything. He answers questions without answering them at all. And he remembers far more than one might think, honing in on the most minute details that others might dismiss. His ability to recall the most obscure nonsense is as frightening as it is amusing, for his memory is excellent and he does not forget. Sometimes, it would have been better if he did, and Aasmund considers his fascinating memory situation as much of a curse as a blessing. When the memories overwhelm him, he finds comfort with the only thing he has left of better times—the locket he carries with him wherever he does. It is his most beloved treasure. He does not speak of it and does not let anyone see what it hides away. No, the locket is for him and him alone. He wraps his claws around it and perches on a high point, allowing himself to see things that are no longer there. The horizon calls to him on those days, carried on the breeze, and he grounds himself as best he can by tracing the little imperfections the locket has gained over the years. And when he truly feels the weight of a lifetime of mistakes, he sings the old songs, humming along to tunes long since forgotten. The Tale of Ennyio Spiral has been scrubbed from memory. By the time he found Valhall, Aasmund had been ground down into nothing but weariness. He'd lived a lifetime, made more mistakes than he could count, and lived solely out of spite and stubbornness. Just one more con, he'd told himself. Then he could settle down somewhere. Well, the con failed, but he found a place to settle. And maybe that was better. | __ |
| __ |
|
T Ý R Týr was the one to give him a chance, to show kindness and offer him true friendship where most would reject him. Instead of condemning his skills, he was appreciated for them, and was given a chance to prove he could be trusted; a chance to give something to Valhall in the same manner Valhall had given something to him. And it all led back to Týr. | __ |
| __ |
|
V A R Bonding over their shared fondness for silence and observation, Aasmund was one of the first adults Var trusted fully. They understood one another in ways most others didn't, and Aasmund took great pride in watching her learn to utilize the skills she'd been born with. It made them a terrifying duo, however, and it's advised not to end up on their bad side. | __ |
| __ |
|
S K U L D Feeding into his utter love of tea, Skuld is as common to see near as his beloved cup. There is a mutually beneficial agreement—she makes the blends, he tries them. Everyone wins. And he enjoys her light-hearted, absent predictions and airy nonsense more than one would think. Skuld is a steady presence in a wobbly world, one he wouldn't ever want to go without. | __ |
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
Feed this dragon Insects.
Feed this dragon Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
You can share this dragon on the forums by either copying the browser URL manually, or using bbcode!
Exalting Aasmund to the service of the Icewarden will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
Do you wish to continue?
- Names must be longer than 2 characters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.