ZincAlloy » Lair » Silas

Silas

(#8798813)

I know what I have to do.

Lume

Lightning Sprite

Energy: 45/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

1.3 m

Wingspan

1.57 m

Weight

0.74 kg

Genetics

Purple
Iridescent

Purple
Shimmer

Ivory
Circuit

Hatchday

Dec 19, 2014
(9 years)

Breed

Adult
Fae

Eye Type

Lightning
Unusual

Level 25 Fae

Max Level

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

126

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Trec
Seca

Offspring

Biography

Silas
Chronicler|Clan Leader
Neutral Good

Silas is the clan's chronicler. He's also become the clan's elected leader (not that he applied for the position), as his lightning heritage gives him a significantly higher work ethic than the rest of the clan.

This wasn't what he expected when he moved here though; Silas' entire reason for leaving the Shifting Expanse was to skive off work, and it's suddenly become his job to make everybody (including himself) get back to work. At the very least, Silas prides himself on what he's accomplished in the short time he's lead the clan. The roof no longer leaks, there's enough food to go around, the number of hatchlings that almost fall into that portal in the basement has halved, and sometimes magical experiments actually get completed!

As he was never looking for power to begin with, Silas does not run his clan with any sort of absolute power. Instead, he leads a council of the clan's most trusted members, who work together to solve issues in ways that will benefit the entire clan. Well, in theory anyways. More often than he'd like to admit, he just ends up doing what he thinks is right, while the rest of the council bickers among themselves. Gwenith often helps him in these endeavours, as she's never cared for bureaucracy and can't resist an opportunity to stick it to those in charge.

Silas might not be the most inspiring or powerful of leaders, but he has biggest quality that Clan _______ needs in one: organization. The clan's capable of being mostly self-sufficient, they merely need someone who can keep track of what's going on; someone to let them know what problems need to be solved, and what they need to do to keep the clan moving forwards. That Silas goes out of his way to fix the smaller issues himself is just a bonus. In any case, nobody's ever challenged his leadership, so he must be doing something right.

While a very powerful caster, Silas is not massively effective in battle, as he is completely incapable of taking hits. Instead, Silas attempts to play the role of tactician and fights in the rear of the formation, giving orders and ranged support. Unfortunately, he's too small to be heard easily, so he's entirely reliant on Kokoro to pass his orders down the line.

Despite their looks, Silas' clothes are not a traditional mage's outfit — they're just some cheap things he picked up from a costume store in a poor attempt to blend in with the residents of the Starfall Isles. At this point though, he's grown rather fond of them, and they've picked up enough enchantments to serve as the real deal. Coupled with numerous casting lessons from Valea, few would suspect that Silas wasn't raised in the Starfall Isles at this point. As long as they don't ask him about any part of the Isles other than the southern islands, anyways.

As clan leader, Silas assists in many of the other clan member's projects. This isn't without it's dangers, such as the time he helped with one of Valea's classes on transmutation. After many transformations, the only one of which he remembers is the three seconds he spent as a mirror dragon, Silas was eventually returned to normal, with only minor side effects. He was a bit taller, with a significantly increased wingspan but greatly decreased mass, meaning Silas is now at threat of being blown away by a stiff breeze. It was a highly uncomfortable and disconcerting experience, one which he isn't entirely against trying again.

He suffers from recurring nightmares.

Silas grew up in the Shifting Expanse, a student at a boarding school from shortly after hatching. The school, which was founded for those Lightning dragons who were far too busy with their work to ever think about taking care of their hatchlings, promised a bright future ahead for its students, as valued engineers working for the Stormcatcher at the Tempest Spire. Silas was one of the top students in his class, and a childhood of studying and hard work were likely to give him a position as one of the Stormcatcher's head engineers.

But Silas had became disillusioned with his life, and decided that he didn't want to spend his entire life working for the Stormcatcher. And so, one night he took what few personal items he had and fled his old life - without even turning in his final assignment.

^{close friend}

^adviser

^friend

[This may flow better in first person? Rough draft ahoy!]
[Note to self: The biggest problem with this is it's too expositiony, but it has to be since it references other events you haven't written yet. You can't fix this until you write those first.]

...Silas stood in the hall, shaking uncontrollably. This late at night, there wasn't a sound to drown out his thoughts, or to fill in the empty feeling that welled up inside him. His gripped his cloak with his claws and pulled it tighter around himself, but no fabric in Sornieth was thick enough to block out the truth. Especially not when it was standing right in front of him.

The fae took a deep breath, and slowly thought back over the events that had led up to this point. Desperately, he hoped that there would be something pointing to any other explanation than the current one, which he didn't want to accept.

There'd always been the nightmares, yes, but those were just dreams. You know, a product of the repressed memories of whatever had happened to his family when he was a hatchling or some such thing. The feeling that something watched him while he slept, that it was hungry, was all just a product of his imagination. Nothing else. That those same feelings had started to come to mind whenever he cast a spell? Perhaps he was just overworked. Yeah, that made sense.

Then there was Courante. Somehow, Silas' blood ran even colder as he recalled what had happened. It had only been a week or two since the fallen paladin had decided to sneak in his room and hold him up at swordpoint. Some quick thinking and many pleading words had convinced her to spare his life, but the skydancer's words still haunted him. It was you all along! I trusted you! How could you deceive us like this? Silas had no clue what she was talking about back then, but now... No. Everyone know Courante was over-zealous, and she'd probably just got her crusade pointed in the wrong direction again, right? She tried to accuse Midboss of being a necromancer once, for goodness sake!

And worryingly related to Courante, there was Seca. She'd always been reliable; able to help him out whenever the challenges of running a clan went flying over Silas' inexperienced head. But ever since the paladin had arrived, possessed by the shade, the other fae had acted oddly. Sometimes she'd take her role as advisor in stride, but at other times it seemed she couldn't even look at him. Almost as if she were... afraid of him. But why? Silas knew his advisor had been keeping some secrets from everyone, but he'd always figured they were personal and none of his business. He clenched a tiny fist. Would things have gone differently if only he'd just asked?

Those journals were a mystery as well. They told the tale of a betrayed imperial, the shade, and death. They were believable enough, but as nobody had any clue where they were coming from there wasn't anything to confirm they weren't fiction. Well, until now...

For Silas wasn't alone in the hall. In front of him stood an imperial... well, for a given value of standing anyways. The imperial was transparent, as insubstantial as a whisper on the wind. It acted as if it was speaking to an invisible someone, and while it made no sound, its ethereal voice still shook Silas to the bone. And yet, the dread that filled Silas had nothing to with seeing a ghost.

Tentatively, Silas pulled his pendant out from under his tunic. On it hung a large blue stone; the only token of his family he'd ever known. He'd worn it all his life, but somehow a ghostly copy of it hung around the imperial's neck. There was no denying it, Silas had spent many a night staring at the rock trying to summon even the smallest memory, and he knew it like his own scales. Those pendants were one and the same.

But that imperial had died destroying a shade-powered robot. Or at least that's what the journals said. And if Silas had his pendant, then the fae's parents must have stumbled upon the spot where he died. But what did that mean? How would that give him any connection to the shade? Why was this happening to him?

Suddenly, the imperial's apparition dissipated. With a start, Silas jumped back with his wings, looking around as if he expected the darkness to jump out and claim him. It never did. He was all alone, with only his thoughts and the barest hint of the truth for company. Everything pointed to the worst outcome, and yet nothing could prove it. Surely he was just paranoid, overreacting due to stress.

No. Whether his worries were correct of not, Silas had to know. Even though he'd promised himself to never go back, he had to travel to the Shifting Expanse and find out the truth. Something happened the day that imperial died, and Silas was going to find out what. And if it turned out the the worst case was true, that he really was shadetouched, he could be confident that leaving was the right choice.

A bolt of electricity arced between two of the fae's claws.

For everyone else's sake...
[...]

Image Credit: Remakash

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Image Credit: Llanai

Image Credit: Malzykins

Image credit for sitting portrait above: Eylim

This was a neat idea I had, but I couldn't get the gif quality high enough. The image changes every fifteen seconds.

Art Credit: Keldeo

How much of what I know is my own memory, and how much is a bad dream?

Scrolled all the way down here, huh? Well, if you've ever wanted to read way too much FR lore, here's Silas's story that I'll probably never finish: link. It's what I force myself to write when I catch myself doing excessive amounts of nothing, so the lack of inspiration means it's not very good.

Most recent update note: 46k words and Silas gets to have a nice time for a bit.

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Exalting Silas to the service of the Arcanist 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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