Siirta
(#89949076)
Lost child of Ice
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Female Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
24.3 m
Wingspan
16.03 m
Weight
6443.51 kg
Genetics
White
Tiger
Tiger
Flint
Flair
Flair
White
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 13 Imperial
EXP: 9785 / 45676
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
༻ S I I R T A ༺ - c a r t o g r a p h e r
|
Closing her eyes, Siirta recalled the past. The lonely back of a pearlcatcher, dissapearing through the fog. Her own mother, they called her. That she was not. Seraph, her older sibling had told Siirta her mother was an azure, beautiful coatl, wings edged in a bountiful display of blue. There was no blue here, she thought, staring at the desert. No water for which to sustain themselves, no sky at which to dream about, and no mother for which to care for them. Some would call it a harsh life. Siirta would just call it 'life'. Entering the small chamber her siblings lived in, the putrid scent of oil filled her senses. Shriek must be back from the mines. Then again, the smell was always here, just this time it was fresher. Spotting a black, still, vaguely dragon-shaped shadow hunched in the corner, Siirta sighed. Shriek, despite his name, was the quietest dragon in the hamlet. He had been scratched a couple of times for his oilslick scale color, a trait only known to exist within the local bandits. Of course, it existed outside of this hellhole, but only very far away. And why would someone bother to bring their hatchling here in the first place? So, it was most likely he came from the bandits. Anyhow, Shriek was her sibling, the one she grew up with for as long as she could remember, along with Seraph. She would try to support him as much as she could, and if she couldn't she would find another way. ྿ That decision, that single thought, led her here. To the nearby bandit camp. She thought it ironic, how the very dragons who had been the cause of her brother being harmed were now the ones she asked to help her. Cycles, she hated them, even if the world was a cycle itself. ྿ The memories faded into a mess of mulch, the faces swirling and blending, becoming indistinguishable from one another. The cacophony of sounds got louder, and louder. Siirta opened her eyes, forced to stop recalling her past. She didn't know what happened after that, only that she had gotten accepted into the bandits' group and their training regimen. It hadn't taken long for her to rise up the ranks, dueling multiple dragons and winning. It was to the point where one of her opponents quit before they even got to duel. ྿ |
The bandit group, she learned, was much larger than just a group. This was, in fact, one of the guilds' smallest branches, and she was but a big fish in a small pond. It was at this point she knew she had a decision: jump out of the pond, and flounder around until some bigger predator sauntered up and ate her, or stay here and keep complete control over the bandits. She chose the ladder. The guild probably wouldn't even notice this branch went missing, it was not only small in numbers but also in the money the branch sent in. It wasn't worth sending someone over here to figure out what was going on.
Anyhow, her life had only improved from there, so even if the bar wasn't very high, it was gradually rising, and her brother's was too. At some point, she'd lost Seraph to the sands of time, her memories of him buried and his name forgotten. His body was likely lost to the sands as well. The
The memories after were a blur of red and white, and black scales. All Siirta knew was that after that she ended up in a mercenary camp of all places. Her brother dead, she sought to find a new home. After that, blue, green, and off-white were the colors being blended. Some orange as well. Once again, Siirta somehow ended up in another place she didn't know how she got to, but at least it was nice. A small cave in the Whisperwood Grove. At least it was hers.
Siirta found solace in mapmaking, and the caretaking of archives and history. Even if she couldn't remember her own, perhaps she could regain some of it by helping others. She knew it wasn't realistic, but at this point it was just a pasttime.
Putting the final touches on her newest map, Siirta traced a claw down the border between nature and shadow, down the river, and finally a little to the right rested her cave.
"X is 3025, Y is 1542..." she murmured to herself.
wind aura
winter wolf cape
twilight oracle's guise
blue birdskull headdress
blue birdskull armband
blue birdskull wingpeace
bowman's tail twist
navy tail wrap
woeful vial
aerborne gustgather
Anyhow, her life had only improved from there, so even if the bar wasn't very high, it was gradually rising, and her brother's was too. At some point, she'd lost Seraph to the sands of time, her memories of him buried and his name forgotten. His body was likely lost to the sands as well. The
The memories after were a blur of red and white, and black scales. All Siirta knew was that after that she ended up in a mercenary camp of all places. Her brother dead, she sought to find a new home. After that, blue, green, and off-white were the colors being blended. Some orange as well. Once again, Siirta somehow ended up in another place she didn't know how she got to, but at least it was nice. A small cave in the Whisperwood Grove. At least it was hers.
Siirta found solace in mapmaking, and the caretaking of archives and history. Even if she couldn't remember her own, perhaps she could regain some of it by helping others. She knew it wasn't realistic, but at this point it was just a pasttime.
Putting the final touches on her newest map, Siirta traced a claw down the border between nature and shadow, down the river, and finally a little to the right rested her cave.
"X is 3025, Y is 1542..." she murmured to herself.
base code by dystopisaurus
wind aura
winter wolf cape
twilight oracle's guise
blue birdskull headdress
blue birdskull armband
blue birdskull wingpeace
bowman's tail twist
navy tail wrap
woeful vial
aerborne gustgather
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Exalting Siirta 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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