Stormstrike
(#8924697)
Level 5 Nocturne
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Female Nocturne
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.73 m
Wingspan
4.91 m
Weight
483.88 kg
Genetics
Azure
Basic
Basic
Swamp
Basic
Basic
Goldenrod
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Nocturne
EXP: 1298 / 5545
STR
25
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
One (1) year old Gen 1 Unbred Level 5 Nocturne
Stormstrike
100kt
Willing to negotiate payment, send PM.
Rights to lore included.
The stormstrike, as she was legendarily known for, was a fabled harbinger of a long winter's impending blizzard.
As the first of her kind, she was born to the most frigid of icebergs at the most iciest of hinterland, tucked deeply away in the remote crags of mountainous range untouched by the most uncivilised of clans. It was here within a secluded cranny leading to a steaming alcove revealed a hidden oasis of hot springs where she incubated, waiting for her long awaiting clan to discover her. Here, where her unknown origins began, on the night of a furious blizzard's dawning.
The wild rage of the snowing tempest surrounding her nearly cracked her developing premature frame as it swirled around the egg, letting her fall off and away from the innermost mountains and into the sights of a marauding clan of poachers. Instantly thieving her away from stranger's sight, she was utterly defenseless as an unhatched bab could be.
She was a restless dragoness as it was, fighting her way from the raiders before birth, wriggling herself out of her natural confines and against theirs. The poacher's nests seldom relented against her blunted baby teeth, but as her fangs grew sharper, the net thinned into frayed fastenings. She teethed on ice every night of her capture, practicing on her enemies.
Biding her time, she become obsessive in her plans to escape from her prison within the clan's hoard. Every evening, she watched as they retrieved pieces from their stocks of succulent meats and satiating insects. Every night, she would treat herself to their most delicious specimens. She watched for the storm of snow to signal her dissent as it served to distract the poacher's from leaving the lair. Slipping away, she braved the torrential ice pouring in favor of sacrificing her freedom.
A roaring came from behind! She was being pursued, the clan leaders now knew of her escape. Being captured alive would be a fate worse than death. She could not risk it. Still a hatchling, she'd much to live for and much to see. With all the might she could muster from her little hatchling wings, she took of with a fluttering gusto. The first flight will be towards freedom, she thought before colliding into a pure white imperial, full grown.
Shocked and disoriented, she fell with a sputter landing atop the menacing poacher's clutches, mistaking it for the suffocating white of the intensifying blizzard. The infuriated dragon shoved her in frozen ironclads before thrusting her inside a stiff, itching knapsack. She thrashed within, regretting her premature flight immediately. The penalty for an early hatching without her owner's permission, she would soon find, was most grave.
Stormstrike
100kt
Willing to negotiate payment, send PM.
Rights to lore included.
The stormstrike, as she was legendarily known for, was a fabled harbinger of a long winter's impending blizzard.
As the first of her kind, she was born to the most frigid of icebergs at the most iciest of hinterland, tucked deeply away in the remote crags of mountainous range untouched by the most uncivilised of clans. It was here within a secluded cranny leading to a steaming alcove revealed a hidden oasis of hot springs where she incubated, waiting for her long awaiting clan to discover her. Here, where her unknown origins began, on the night of a furious blizzard's dawning.
The wild rage of the snowing tempest surrounding her nearly cracked her developing premature frame as it swirled around the egg, letting her fall off and away from the innermost mountains and into the sights of a marauding clan of poachers. Instantly thieving her away from stranger's sight, she was utterly defenseless as an unhatched bab could be.
She was a restless dragoness as it was, fighting her way from the raiders before birth, wriggling herself out of her natural confines and against theirs. The poacher's nests seldom relented against her blunted baby teeth, but as her fangs grew sharper, the net thinned into frayed fastenings. She teethed on ice every night of her capture, practicing on her enemies.
Biding her time, she become obsessive in her plans to escape from her prison within the clan's hoard. Every evening, she watched as they retrieved pieces from their stocks of succulent meats and satiating insects. Every night, she would treat herself to their most delicious specimens. She watched for the storm of snow to signal her dissent as it served to distract the poacher's from leaving the lair. Slipping away, she braved the torrential ice pouring in favor of sacrificing her freedom.
A roaring came from behind! She was being pursued, the clan leaders now knew of her escape. Being captured alive would be a fate worse than death. She could not risk it. Still a hatchling, she'd much to live for and much to see. With all the might she could muster from her little hatchling wings, she took of with a fluttering gusto. The first flight will be towards freedom, she thought before colliding into a pure white imperial, full grown.
Shocked and disoriented, she fell with a sputter landing atop the menacing poacher's clutches, mistaking it for the suffocating white of the intensifying blizzard. The infuriated dragon shoved her in frozen ironclads before thrusting her inside a stiff, itching knapsack. She thrashed within, regretting her premature flight immediately. The penalty for an early hatching without her owner's permission, she would soon find, was most grave.
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This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Stormstrike to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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