Zazan
(#9153450)
Level 1 Wildclaw
Familiar
Encouraging Quill
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 49/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Female Wildclaw
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.35 m
Wingspan
7.79 m
Weight
528.14 kg
Genetics
Navy
Iridescent
Iridescent
Navy
Shimmer
Shimmer
Navy
Gembond
Gembond
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Wildclaw
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
8
AGI
9
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
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Zazan | The Artist Zazan is, at least in her own mind, the Queen of the Clan until such a time that she finds better and more interesting subjects to rule over. All but Pavus would agree with her simply in order to stay on her good side. She is not a very... pleasant dragoness by any means. Many in the Clan suspect (silently, of course) that she is more than a little unhinged and incapable of ever truly caring for anything other than power and riches. They are right. She was not born that way, though, and the tale of her change is a sad one. It starts when Zazan was just barely out of the egg. Zazan's parents, Sunil and Dymura, while loving towards both each other and their offspring, were the lowest of the low in their clan. Now, usually having low status is not all that bad in Wildclaw society, as they are simply encouraged to take on artisan's professions, but as they could not even do that – could not even pull their own weight in the clan – they were looked down upon and scorned. That, in itself, was not enough to kill off Zazan's emotions, though. A fairly upbeat hatchling, she did not let it drag her down – her Papa and Mama loved her, after all! And she loved them! So very, very, very much. They were her world, and could do nothing wrong. No, everything was the fault of all those meanie-dragons... but they were really only mean because Zazan's Mama and Papa couldn't draw. They must really like drawings, Zazan concluded in her little hatchling mind, if they think that it's so bad that Mama and Papa can't draw. So Zazan decided that if they like drawings so much, then it must mean that if Zazan got good at drawing and drew for them, then they would start liking her family. And that would be great, because if everyone liked each other, they would be like one very big family. And since Zazan thought that even her small family was amazing, she concluded that it would be even better if everyone in the Clan could be one big family. So she started drawing. And drawing. And drawing. Unfortunately, though, there was a reason as to why neither Sunil nor Dymyra could manage any art-inclined profession. For Dymyra it was a simple case of not possessing something even resembling an artisan's eye; no matter how hard she tried, whatever she made turned out ugly. For Sunil, though... Sunil was physically unable to craft anything. The gembond he had been hatched with had quickly grown to render his foreclaws almost unusable. By the time Zazan was hatched, he could barely move them at all, and Zazan had inherited this most unfortunate trait. The gems decorating her front limbs made her clumsy, unable to develop any fine motor skills, as well as gave her a tendency of scratching up whatever it was that she was working on until it was beyond recognition. She did not stop trying, though. Not until that one morning... The morning of the day that saw Zazan's world shattered. Zazan had always known that she had had elder siblings. She knew that she was not from her Mama's and Papa's first clutch. That was okay, though, because Mama and Papa loved her and her brothers anyway. She had never wondered what had happened to those older siblings. She had never wondered how odd it was that she had never seen them. She had never wondered why the Clan let her family stay, despite the fact that they did not contribute. She had never wondered why her parents coddled her and her brothers so, feeding them chewed meat despite the fact that they had teethed and could have stated chewing on their own much, much earlier. She had never wondered, because somewhere deep down she suspected that the truth, contrary to what her Light Papa always said, was an ugly, ugly thing. She was right. That morning, one of her brothers – Raziel – had gotten impatient. He had wanted to prove to their parents that he was a Big Boy, and that he could hunt and feed by himself. And he could. Make no mistake, this should have been a happy occasion. Traditionally, a Wildclaw's first hunt was the cause of celebration, of joy. For the daughter and sons of Sunil and Dymyra, though, it marked the end of the life as they knew it. Confused and distressed, the young dragons were gathered up, chained down and carted off to be sold as slaves on the black market. It was then, when Zazan saw her parents pressed to the ground beneath their Clanmates, crying for their children but shown no mercy and when her healthier and stronger brothers were sold carted off one by one to parts unknown, never to be seen again, that Zazan killed her heart. Love had not allowed her parents to keep them. Love had not protected them. Love had kept them weak, ignorant of what was to come. Love had made Zazan lose all that she had ever known. Love was useless. All that mattered was who was strong enough and rich enough to impose their might, their will on others, and have them grovelling at their feet. So Zazan resolved to never again be weak or poor. She would become a Queen, with no-one standing above her. Not even the dieties. Because if they could not even protect a hatchling, then what good were they? And so, long years passed with Zazan quietly and steadily building her strength, despite the demeaning work they put her, the gembond near-cripple, to. Her almost-petrified front limbs had made sure she was sold far cheaper than her brothers, and thus put to the worst kind of tasks. She did not complain, however. She knew she would get her revenge once she was strong enough. And she did. And it was glorious. On the first full moon of her fifth year in confinement, Zazan broke the rusted chains holding her prisoner. Thinking her crippled due to her weak front limbs, her owners had never expected her to need more secure bindings. Oh, how wrong they were. The blood dyed the ground red that night, most of the Clan murdered in its sleep, believing themselves safe. Even those already awake or awoken by the violence around them did not stand a chance. She was simply – finally – stronger than them. So much stronger. Not even her fellow slaves were safe from her bloodied maws. She had no use for them, and if she let them go, there would be witnesses to her actions; witnesses who might reveal her and get her caught again. That, she would never allow to happen. So she sunk her teeth into their flesh and tore. She left them alone after that, though. In some deep corner of her mind, she knew that they were not to blame, that they had just been victims of circumstance, like her. Her tormentors were given no such mercy, however. After having been killed slowly, painfully, Zazan feasted on their flesh until she, for the first time since she was forced away from home, was full. By right of conquest, and simply because there was no-one left to dispute her claim, she then took all their treasures as her own, and after sleeping, bathing and clothing herself in the richest fineries she could find, set out to seek her Empire. Because now she was powerful. Now she was rich. Now, she would be Queen. No mercy would be shown to those who would dare stand in her way. by Outpost |
Relations  |
Art By: Pybotic, Limbus, Hazebeasts, Florescent, 20pi
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Exalting Zazan to the service of the Lightweaver 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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