Ithika » Hibernal Den » Ignacia

Ignacia

(#2706338)

Level 25 Wildclaw

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

5.33 m

Wingspan

8.85 m

Weight

734.47 kg

Genetics

Brown
Tiger

Rust
Stripes

Beige
Underbelly

Hatchday

Mar 20, 2014
(10 years)

Breed

Adult
Wildclaw

Eye Type

Fire
Common

Level 25 Wildclaw

Max Level

STR

129

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

none

Biography

ALL YOU HAVE IS YOUR FIRE
AND THE PLACE YOU NEED TO REACH

COUR.i. Ignacia's apprentice would be quick to tell you she is a woman made only of sharp edges. She has never really played well with others, hence her inability to keep apprentices very long. There are few who can meet her standards of perfection. Yes, she is much like the master of her youth, butch and rugged with a harsh tongue. But somewhere, smoldering beneath the flames of her temper there are a few coals of compassion. She is one of the few to keep a cat for a companion and cares for it like a mother would a child, pouring affection and attention upon it. She was also one of the few of Dom's followers to come to her senses and to help unravel the weave of corruption he had sewn in to the clan. She has strong morals and stays by them faithfully, determined not to commit again the errors of her past.

Despite this, she is known for butting heads with the icy Queen. While neither women can said to be the demure, sophisticated type, Ignacia's crude and rough demeanor grates unceasingly against Vitori's stately disposition. She is the only one that can burst the queen's poised composure and engage her in to a squabble, much to Lyre's amusement. But because of her wisdom and useful insight, the queen does value her council.

Ignacia is much more active in the clan than she had been under Dom's reign, where she worked almost nonstop in her workshop and grew to be oblivious to the clan's moral decline. She is now the thread that ties the clan to the Ashfall Waste and the allies they have there, making regular good will trips back and forth.

MY PEACE HAS ALWAYS DEPENDED
ON ALL THE ASHES IN MY WAKE

COUR.ii. In the days of the God King, Ignacia could be found no where else but her workshop deep in the requiem's caverns. A master blacksmith, she was one of the few who could please old Dom's elitist standards without fail, her heart and soul poured in to every piece she hammers in to existence. How she came by such a hardy trade is no mystery.

Born in the Emberglow Hearth, Ignacia left home as soon as she was able and traversed to a clan down in the Blacksand Annex to learn her trade. As a young apprentice she was nervous and clumsy, often earning her sharp reprimands and an occasional lashing. The headmaster was a harsh old thing, but his skills were unrivaled throughout every flight. Her follies would not deter her desire to learn from him. With age she learned to steady her hand and steel her nerves, eventually earning herself favoritism among the apprentices. But she would not graduate before the beast clans began their uprising and tore the waste asunder.

Her clan was attacked in the night, and though few lives were lost the smithy was destroyed in a collapse, taking its master with it. Losing all she had worked for in a single swoop, it took little persuasion for a passing rogue from the tangled wood (whose clan there had also met the same devastation by the beast clans) to hire her in his resistance deep in the crags.

From flames to snowsqualls she went, rallied in the name of vengeance. In the deepest pockets of the caverns she built her shop, forged sturdy beams wrought from iron and timber to hold the mountains up when her workshop caught fire. She buried herself in her work for many months, staying inside her warm nook where the familiar smells of hot metal and smoke kindled the fire of her spirit. She was amiss to the changes happening within the clan, such as Dominic's ascension to King and his corruption of the fighters. She only knew that he asked for weapons and armour to help the clan fight the beast clans and that was all she needed to know.

Piece after piece she forged, with the help of an endless supply of young assistants flocking in to work for her until she could stand them no longer. Few seemed culpable to train as decent blacksmiths, and she was a woman of little patience for flaws. And she convinced herself that the metal she was given for her work, mined from the crags, was chocked full of them. Her armor could never match that of her predecessor.

Her obsession with perfection kept her far to preoccupied to take notice of Dominic's corrupt grasp on the clan. The dragons being called to battle were younger and younger. The trophies hung upon the throne room wall, once only items raided from the beastclans, were now stolen goods of rival dragon clans. Dom was at war with everyone--even clans in the Waste, where Ignacia had once called home. But the Wildclaw saw none of this, not until a daring usurper had deposed of Dominic and the flameforger came from her chamber of cauldrons in protest. She would never speak out against the new Queen, however, when confronted with the sight of pure desolation. The war racked clan was in shambles, the hierarchy in utter chaos, countless clansmen held prisoner on claims of treason, hatclings being fitted for her precious armour. What an outrage!

So when Vitori called for reform, Ignacia, contrite, chose to obey. As repentence for what she had helped create, Ignacia forged a steel memorial for those who had fallen. New purpose entered her workshop then.

Armour was made as needed, of course, but now she specialized in apparel and tools as well, anything to suit the new needs of the clan. She even took on an apprentice and with her new purpose works her precious metals with far more skill than she ever had when she worked in the name of revenge. The sages also gave her a new charge--rebuilding trust between the requiem and the damaged clans within the Ashfall Waste. She traversed back and forth many months before a stable relationship could be established and trade began. For what the requiem could best provide, good manufactured metals poured in from the Waste. At last, Ignacia could forge pieces that befit her expectations.

Lore below this point by Ithika #46361 (all above and layout by Apothic #66026)

Such was the skill of the master smith that her work reached the pirates of Windfall, who were always in need of good steel. For defense, of course, the clan's merchants would insist from behind smiles full of fangs, and few if any would question their motives.

The clan's captain-matriarch was ever content to simply purchase or procure arms and armour as the need arose, but following the coup lead by the sharp, economically-minded spiral, Aleru, the pirates sent envoys to find a skilled smith that might be willing to dwell deep in the caverns of Windfall, amongst the fires and iron of the forge.

The spiral herself visited the Frozen Requiem, her manner harsh and abrasive as the frigid winds outside. But she paid well - very well, no matter how she obtained the hefty sum she offered the master smith. More, certainly, than was entirely reasonable, but Aleru was determined. "My clan has enemies," she insisted, crimson eyes ablaze with their own flame, "and there is no better way to spend our coin than in defending ourselves." She clicked her tongue, tail lashing in impatience. "Time is short."

For her part, Ignacia looked the young dragoness up and down and appreciated her pluck and vim, but looked up from the forge for only a moment before turning back to her work. "No." She had made tools for thieves and vagabonds before. While she liked the spiral, that was clearly what she and her clan were.

She could not have predicted the cataclysm that saw the dragons of the Frozen Requiem sent far and wide from the clan, though perhaps if she had listened over the hammer of her forge, she might have heard the cracking rumbles within the ice.

Windfall, as it happened, was nearby, and the winds that winter were brutally cold and violent. Ignacia, with her forgetools, knew she did not have the skill to fly as far as her homeland in such squalls, and with consternation sought out the pirates, confident that her skill in the forge would ensure she found their doors open to her.

She was not wrong, and before long she found a place amongst the thieves and rogues of Windfall. She was surprised by what she found - for the most part, these dragons found their way here as they fit nowhere else. This was the life the world forced them to forge for themselves, and while some were certainly guilty of vicious natures and there were many with bloodthirst among their number, they simply saw the world as one that forced them to do what they must to survive.

She did not intend to stay forever, but she could see the truth in the way they lived.

Days stretched to weeks, weeks into months, and the winter squalls softened into chilly gales the wildclaw knew she could manage. But a young imperial had entered her forge, an apprentice eager and skilled, passionately called to the craft. The girl was all thumbs at first, and homesick for her sister.

Ignacia did not have the softness in her that at times it seemed the girl sought, and she was as harsh with her as any of her apprentices. But she stayed, for Nekhbet. Every winter, the imperial grew more skilled in the craft they shared, the arms and armour she brought to her master's keen and critical eye closer to the perfection she sought with every passing season. And every autumn, the wildclaw found reasons to stay, flaws in Nekhbet's craft.

Until one year, Nekhbet brought her a cuirass of dark, polished steel that gleamed like the forge in the candlelight, the burnished steel delicately worked with filigree finer than the imperial's whiskers. The wildclaw turned the piece in her talons, silent as she beheld it, Nekhbet hovering silently just in her periphery. She clicked her tongue, eye sliding to her apprentice after a great time. It was perfect.

ELDER

BRAWLER SQUADRON

FIRE

REP

TRAITS
♦
brash
ill-tempered
persnickety

BATTLE
♦
Golem Farmer

RELATIONSHIPS

^apprentice

ARTWORK

Joined Clan Windfall 6.06.17 from Apothic #66026. 400g.

Lore, Art, Profile from Apothic

Farming build

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