Morgan
(#87402245)
Blood Spattered
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
Expand the dragon details section.
Collapse the dragon details section.
Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.9 m
Wingspan
6.6 m
Weight
544.15 kg
Genetics
White
Basic
Basic
White
Basic
Basic
Garnet
Flecks
Flecks
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Nocturne
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Lineage
Biography
@XxCalypsoxX
Kids = 40g/equiv
Kids = 40g/equiv
The Awakening
Quote goes here. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit.
|
. |
It was so very cold and she was so very, very small when it happened to her. Morgan couldn’t remember it all for she had barely hatched, eyes barely opened, the world fresh and new and utterly frigid around her. The tiny white dragon that had just hatched from her egg had only one thing to offer to the adults that had gathered around her, checking her over, making sure that she had all her claws and horns in the right places. The world was to end, they believed. When exactly the sun was supposed to crash into the ocean, boiling the ice lands into nothing, no one knew. The terror and fear drove the conclave to commit terrible atrocities, the anxiety burned into their scales and insides. They moved with desperation, the thumb of the clan leader pressing into their pulse so tightly that if they stopped, they might as well die themselves. Morgan’s life was to be short, quick, but ever so helpful in preventing the world from ending. The ice gods that surrounded her clan she would never grow up to learn about. She would never grow up to learn to live with the same terror in her soul. They were supposed to eat her, be satiated by the blood that was to be spilled from her tiny body. Morgan didn’t remember the moment she was supposed to die. But she remembered the cold that engulfed her. It bore itself into her heart and head, wailing out in some misunderstood pain as she was placed upon the altar and left for the clan leader to deal with. |
She would never remember the blade, she wouldn’t bare the scars of it as it tried to pierce her flesh. It had worked like this so many times before and yet, somehow, this time was different. Some great hand, far beyond her elder’s control, stayed her death. Some great twist of the universe took pity on her, tiny and frail, and shattered the sacrificial knife to the hilt. The markings that burst out across her body in a great rush of magic burned more than the snares of death ever could. The ice altar cracked below her wings, memories of tundra gods and ancient angers skittering away from her as the terror struck deep into the hearts of her clan. This was surely to be the end of all things, the sacrifice rejected by the greater powers under the oaths of the leader, all finesse and ritual broken as her white skin was split with red markings. She was abandoned alone in the wastes quickly after, hoping that somehow, the cold would take her, that her intended purpose would not be in vain. The sun, watery and gray, somehow still held in the sky, but no one knew for how long.
Lore by Geistlicher
| . |
Template made by speedyturtle. Template graphics made by Delamire and Mibella and Nirwana.
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.
Exalting Morgan to the service of the Shadowbinder 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.