Dexter
(#87651715)
Blood Spattered
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Male Nocturne
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.41 m
Wingspan
6.27 m
Weight
427.65 kg
Genetics
White
Basic
Basic
White
Basic
Basic
Sanguine
Flecks
Flecks
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Nocturne
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
8
DEF
6
QCK
8
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Lineage
Biography
@XxCalypsoxX
Kids = 40g/equiv
Kids = 40g/equiv
The Awakening
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Dexter had almost died. The archaic magic symbols had been painted onto his egg by shaking hands, digging just enough into the shell that they would dye but not shatter it. When he was born, he came out stained. The elder nursery guardians drawing back in horror at the baby that blinked up at them. The magic pulsated within his markings; he was too young to know that the hair in his watcher’s manes started to rise with the static in the air, potent and uncontrollable. His tiny ears would fill with terrible screeches, screams of words he did not understand yet and wouldn’t remember when he could. He remembered a pain, but from what, he didn’t know. Yet as he grew, his wing still twisted sometimes with an old hurt he had no recollection of. What had been done to him, he couldn’t remember. There was a stretch in his youthful memories of nothingness. There was no one around him, no one near him. His old clan scrubbing itself clean off the face of his recollections. “Do you hate them?” Morgan asked him as she looked up at him, her eyes pale and milky, never to see another thing as long as she lived. Despite that, Dexter knew that she could see him. She would put her paws upon his face and hold his cheeks when she spoke to him. |
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They had found each other in the nothingness. He had been drawn to her like a moth to the light, some unspoken hand guiding him to her. His travels throughout the lands were disrupted when he saw another dragon just like him, pale white and marked with red. Dexter knew then that they were to be together. The cosmic shifting of unseen planes and greater powers above them making the magic in their scarring glow when they drew closer to each other. Morgan had never seen him, knowing him only by the feel of his scales or the soft leather of his wings. But he could see her. He could be the eyes that her clan stole from her. She could be the wings that his clan had broken from him. “… I think I do hate them,” Dexter finally answered. His markings pulsated quicker, the angry pain inside his one bad wing seemed to worsen. “I think that’s what we're supposed to do,” Morgan said. “Hate our clans?” She shook her head, “No. I think we’re supposed to hate the gods that begged for us when we were too young to make a choice. I think we're supposed to hate them. I think were are supposed to do something about them.” Dexter thought about that, sitting in silence with his head resting in Morgan’s claws. She was always cold. “I could kill a hungry god.” “I think they are already starving, my love.” “Let them starve.”
Lore by Geistlicher
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Template made by speedyturtle. Template graphics made by Delamire and Mibella and Nirwana.
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Exalting Dexter 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.
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