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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.23 m
Wingspan
3.44 m
Weight
490.04 kg
Genetics
Ice
Iridescent
Iridescent
Brown
Shimmer
Shimmer
Blood
Gembond
Gembond
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
  
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Neda
She who carves her own road
Young | Female | Mate of Vede
She covers her face with a chipped bone mask, and wraps her limbs with bloodied strips of cloth. It's as if she's trying to hide her shadow heritage, trying to cover up that part of her. She is determined to be seen as a part of her new clan, to be viewed as plague. Often, during quiet moments, she will tap her claw against her pearl with a lazy, unfocused rhythm. When she notices herself doing this she'll appear, just for a moment, quite deeply afraid.
~
Her earliest memories are of a heartbeat. The resonant strum-and-thud of it became her whole world, the close rhythm of her clan. Their pulse shivered together in a perfect unison. They were a single creature, so dependent as to almost seem as one organism, one dragon with many parts. So when a tremor shook her one night, her fluttering thoughts breaking tempo in a dream, she awoke knowing fear, a shuddering terror that boiled up from her gut and spread along her bones. Somehow, she had become separated, and the wrongness of it filled her like a fever. And a body doesn’t suffer the attachment of a mangled, decaying limb. They cut it off. For this, they could kill her. She knew it. She didn’t know how. So she fled. It had been a vain hope, to think that she could escape unmolested, and one that would not be fulfilled. They had chased her through the twisting briars of the Driftwood Drag, their calls and cackles almost playful. Mocking. This was a game to them. But when she broke free of the woodlands, and began to race across the Wastelands plains with all the speed her terror could muster, the giggles turned to shrieks and the mocking feints and dives became almost deadly. Tripping, staggering, refusing to stop, her limbs pounding at the earth with a frantic desperation, only momentum kept her on her feet. Feeling teeth at her spine she choked, screaming out, “I WILL NEVER BE ONE OF YOU!” She knew then, that she was going to die. Until a shape of blood and sunlight dropped from the sky like a thunderbolt, scattering her pursuers, driving them away with a fury she thought could crack mountains. With a fury she could almost taste. Red eyes watched her, sprawled in the dirt, her sides heaving and shaking like bellows. Nothing was said, but when the Imperial turned away she somehow found the strength left to pull herself upwards and follow. Nothing was said, but when her rescuer looked back to check on her progress, she felt affirmation in that gaze. No, it seemed to say, you are not one of them, Child. You are your own. Remember that. |
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Exalting Neda 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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