Uriel
(#8468464)
Level 1 Imperial
Familiar
Strangler
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Male Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
29.9 m
Wingspan
23.99 m
Weight
6442.36 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Tiger
Tiger
White
Eye Spots
Eye Spots
Silver
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
"You. Black imperial." Uriel looked down to lock eyes with the only blue ridgeback the clan possessed, frigid white meeting warm yellow. He quirked a brow in question. What could Tyrith possibly want with him. "Lower your head," she ordered, though her tone was far from forceful. If anything, it was indifferent-something that didn't warrant obedience. Nonetheless, without question, Uriel bowed his head to her, lowering it so that the hairs on his chin tickled the ground.
"Good."
He waited patiently as Tyrith fumbled around with something, keeping his icy gaze focused on the ground as the ridgeback did whatever it was she was doing. After a few short seconds, Uriel finally felt a light weight placed on his head.
"There. You look nice. Just as I had predicted. You're welcome." Tyrith tapped the side of his head with a claw, wordlessly giving him permission to lift his head, which he did so right away. He was careful to not knock off whatever she had put on his head, though the imperial did bob his head gently, trying his best to identify the object without having to actually look at it.
As though reading his mind, Tyrith fumbled once again through the satchel she had with her, stuffed full with items from her most recent trip to the markets. The female ridgeback found and held up a small mirror, allowing Uriel to get a clear look of himself. She watched him closely, searching for even a twitch to gauge his reaction. The slight widening of his confirmed his confusion over seeing the fez atop his head, and he tilted his head curiously at his reflection, as though trying to decide whether or not he actually liked the small hat.
"You're welcome," Tyrith repeated, her voice laced with the tiniest hints of joy. She liked his reaction, and she appreciated the fact that he did not immediately toss aside her gift. Snapping out of his trance, Uriel turned his head to look at her, noting her grin. He bowed his head to her.
"Thank you."
"Good."
He waited patiently as Tyrith fumbled around with something, keeping his icy gaze focused on the ground as the ridgeback did whatever it was she was doing. After a few short seconds, Uriel finally felt a light weight placed on his head.
"There. You look nice. Just as I had predicted. You're welcome." Tyrith tapped the side of his head with a claw, wordlessly giving him permission to lift his head, which he did so right away. He was careful to not knock off whatever she had put on his head, though the imperial did bob his head gently, trying his best to identify the object without having to actually look at it.
As though reading his mind, Tyrith fumbled once again through the satchel she had with her, stuffed full with items from her most recent trip to the markets. The female ridgeback found and held up a small mirror, allowing Uriel to get a clear look of himself. She watched him closely, searching for even a twitch to gauge his reaction. The slight widening of his confirmed his confusion over seeing the fez atop his head, and he tilted his head curiously at his reflection, as though trying to decide whether or not he actually liked the small hat.
"You're welcome," Tyrith repeated, her voice laced with the tiniest hints of joy. She liked his reaction, and she appreciated the fact that he did not immediately toss aside her gift. Snapping out of his trance, Uriel turned his head to look at her, noting her grin. He bowed his head to her.
"Thank you."
Historian/Guard(?)
Though you've entered the lair of friendly dragons, you can't quite shake the sinking feeling that your every step is being watched-like the slightest wrong step would be enough to kick you out.
You turn.
And come face-to-face with a dark, white-eyed, imperial.
Uriel is watching.
Personality (Adolescent):
"He's quiet."-Tyrith
An observer and listener, Uriel is a dragon of few words. If he can help it, he could go days without uttering a single word, even in the company of the excitable Quillin. This imperial likes to keep to himself, staying on the sidelines to make sure no one is doing anything that would harm his clan.
The mystery of his background is on par with Mairi's, if not even more so. Just as the female imperial had suddenly appeared in one of their nests as a hatchling, Uriel marched straight into the lair, planted himself in the back, and refused to move. With much convincing from Calixto and Quillin, it was eventually decided that Uriel would be welcomed to the clan, so long as he didn't cause any harm. They've come to see him as one of their own now.
Unlike Tyrith, Uriel actively goes out of his way to help them when he can. He disciplines the hatchlings, records important events, and is always there to listen when you just need to talk. As the quiet dragon he is, Uriel makes sure that his actions speak louder than his words.
(Not finished yet)
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Exalting Uriel to the service of the Lightweaver 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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