Sildean

A powerful warrior who moved in to the Rippleshard Clan with an ambassador of Water in order to investigate the odd occurrences the dragons talk about so... casually. Although he doesn't know much about Delacine's end goal here, he DOES know that the Crystalcrags, as they call it, don't feel right, and he's always on guard in case something acts up enough to turn this odd residence into a flight-level threat.

Sildean was raised to be a warrior. Born in the harsh snow of the Ice Flight's Snowsquall Tundra and trained to survive such conditions, all he's ever known was survival. He had to be strong enough to survive, he had to be a worthy warrior lest the frost took him out itself. And succeed he did; although perhaps not notable of his own right, any clan could be proud of having someone with them who was accomplished as he was from his age.
So why...
Why did he end up down here?!

He'd be lying to himself if he didn't expect to be given a noble warrior's life. Maybe joining up with another Ice clan and becoming a powerhouse in his (albeit adopted) element, or maybe being sent off to Plague to brave the absolute harshest of environments and be triumphant. Or die trying. He'd always internalized that, wherever he went, he'd do something great, be someone hardy and noteworthy and a clan's prized jewel.
He wondered, when the ever-so-shimmering Delacine showed up, after he'd been told someone from the Water flight had come for him; something about needing a warrior, "just in case".
When he was told, he'd hoped he'd get sent in the depths, seeking out the Tidelord; that was something that could truly earn him his honor, his place!
But Delacine seemed too... fragile. Maybe he was just resistant to the idea of luxury; how the fabrics they wrapped themself up in seemed almost too nice, certainly too nice for a rugged expedition.
Then he was told of Rippleshard; an odd clan that had situated itself so deep in the Leviathan Trench that they'd managed to discover a brand new environment, and that they were here to survey it. And this brought him promise! Surely, somewhere so deep would have it's own struggles, he'd be able to fight off new beasts and bring back heroic stories.
And yet.
And yet...
The clan's founder was nice enough; but it was obvious he'd never fought for his living before. Or, at least, so he presumed. He was much too upbeat, much too kind; certainly never hardened by battle, right?
Even when that assumption faltered, hearing that harrowing tale of the depths and tunnels, he still didn't... like it here.
Everything was kind.
Too kind.
And so alien, too.
It felt like a setup, like this clan was all one massive trap. But he couldn't prove anything about it. So he just sat, and waited, letting that uncanny feeling creep up his spine as he saw creatures unlike anything on Sornieth crawl through the underbrush and entities that were not dragons, no matter WHAT they said, mingle so nicely and easily.
It was suspicious. It had to be, right? How could so much be so kind?
Wasn't the wilderness supposed to be cruel?
It's kindness HAD to make it a trap, right? Right?!

And yet, as he struggles here, trying to figure out what and why, something is settling in him.
He knew he wasn't raised to pit himself into battle after battle. It was only ever a survival measure. He just couldn't interpret it any other way; he HAD to be strong, the world HAD to be cruel. Such luxury HAD to be weakness, even the luxury of rest.
Some part of him breaks every day he spends in the clan, with how warm and friendly and welcoming they are. The part of him that's known he wasn't supposed to be doomed to fighting, that it wasn't even supposed to be ingrained so hard, rears it's head. An ugly little weakness that he doesn't know how to defend against, because he shouldn't have to.
But... until he understands what and why, he refuses to let himself rest.
After all, nobody here knows what's behind each corner, except for those... Enigmatic entities. And he doesn't know if he trusts their word.

• His paranoia of the Crystalcrags isn't really unreasonable, even from an omniscient standpoint. He doesn't realize the nearby entities are actually Intentionally holding back the truth, though... He doesn't quite understand the depth of what he's gotten himself into.
• Despite being raised in the barracks and trained for so long, he doesn't hold any huge memories from his time there, aside from the harsh chills and harsher terrain. In the back of his mind, he knows it's because he's considered that kind of closeness a weakness for so long.
• He feels that Delacine is far too weak, with how they lounge and lean in to the visions of the Water flight. Not that... he thinks the vision thing is a bad thing, but he's having a bit of trouble clicking together that it's possible to relax and also achieve grand feats.
• He does eventually get better. It takes a lot of time, a lot of personal unwinding, and a LOT of investigation into the Crystalcrag, especially questioning that strange Obelisk. Once he does, though, he's still got a bit of a stiff personality; he does not know how to navigate social situations in any way that's not a facade, be it of a gruff warrior or a hearty knight telling tall tales.
• Axeblade is a familiar who can actually keep toe-to-toe with him, and has accompanied him for a while. They're about the only creature Sildean has allowed himself to bond with, being another hardened warrior who sticks by his side.

yeah I did actually center this guy's unlike the others. it's bc the image is centered too and it feels out of place otherwise. I'll eventually ACTUALLY format this fella and the rest
If I get to ignore any canon it's how tiny veilspun are. It's just so much cooler if they're comparable to the other dragons for me.


Art by vousrein! From this forum <3