WhisperingThief » Hibernal Den » Ire

Ire

(#47327141)

Advice is all I can give.

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

4.45 m

Wingspan

6.39 m

Weight

429.64 kg

Genetics

Stone
Poison

Blood
Noxtide

Overcast
Scales

Hatchday

Dec 01, 2018
(5 years)

Breed

Adult
Mirror

Eye Type

Earth
Common

Level 18 Mirror

EXP: 6936 / 92435

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

none

Biography

...

I R E
{ eye-urr }

The Tie-Breaker

Nicknames: Dad / Ink
m.
name origin: anger
Birthland:
Colonnades of Antiquity

► CHARACTER
Ire muttered to himself as he ground up the ingredients for one of his special inks. “Always red. Couldn't be green, or blue, or even a nice bit of purple for variety. Gotta be red, of course.” He stopped, and let out a deep breath to center himself. Of course it was red, it was a Fire enchantment, hard to get that to work without red ink.

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Who could it possibly be at two in the morning? He rubbed his weary eyes with the back of a paw as he meandered over to the door. Opening it, he was greeted by the sight of the clan Warlord, Conquerer. An interesting dragon, brilliant at military strategy, and always made him feel like he was being sized up for a duel. Knowing Conquerer, he probably was, to be honest.

If the clan Warlord was knocking on his door in the wee hours of the morn, then it was either something incredibly important, or something irredeemably trivial that the Council couldn't reach a decision on and had debated about for many hours. Either scenario was, unfortunately, equally likely. “Conquerer, always nice to see you. Would you like some tea?”

Conquerer let out an annoyed huff. “Council matters, can't stay unfortunately. We need a tiebreaker. I and many of the Council are of the opinion we need additional guard towers. The rest of the Council is arguing we don't have the budget. Your input is required.”

Ire dipped his chin into a clawed paw. “I'd have to look over the figures. Which I don't currently have time to do. Please put it on the docket for tomorrow's full Council session, I'll be there on time, I promise.” Conquerer nodded, looking over at Ire's clock and apparently only then realizing what time it was. “I'll see you tomorrow, friend. Don't stay up too late mixing your pigments.”

Ire didn't bother to ask how she knew that's what he was doing. What else would he be doing at two in the morning? His art was important to him. Reflexively, he looked down to his tattooed skin. Some of the enchantments had been used recently and were still refilling from his natural magical emanations – you could tell from the washed-out colors, some of them looking like they were just lineart. Others were vibrant and ready to be used.

He smiled and, with the conversation over and Conquerer already walking away in her normal matter-of-fact fashion, closed his door. “Ah well, time I went to bed anyway” he muttered to himself. “Council meeting tomorrow, and hey, maybe my next delivery will be here.” He curled up on the pile of furs that served as his bed – he was a Mirror after all, he found the reminders of successful hunts oddly comforting – and managed to fall asleep after a while.

The next day was just about normal. A Council meeting, negotiating trade deals with neighboring clans – plentiful edible plants and cultivated farmland helped a lot with that – and of course babysitting for the dragons that had no-one else to care for their hatchlings. Almost every one of them asked him for a tattoo. Of course the response always had to be “no,” but what else could he say?

His tattoos were far from normal, after all. He had delved into the study of magical runes in his younger years and decided that simple spell scrolls and incantations were obsolete. You pour hours of magical chanting and mental energy into a scroll, only for the enchantment to be used up in a single recitation. What's the point of that? If you put a spell onto something that's dead, even if it used to be alive – well then the spell will be dead too.

But what if you put a spell onto something that's alive? Now there was the real question. He looked down to the vivid-purple rune inscribed on the back of his left paw. In hindsight, a risky place to put his first attempt; after all, if something went wrong and he lost the use of his hand, future spellcasting would be far more difficult if not impossible. It worked, though. And better than he'd even expected.

Even now, years later, at a single command word he could put up a shielding enchantment that would deflect physical attacks with ease. And the rune would recharge over the course of a few days. He'd tried, unsuccessfully, to talk Conquerer into getting one, but she was mistrustful of all spellcasting anyway, so she was probably a lost cause where his tattoos were involved.

At the end of the day, he ensured all the hatchlings got home safe, staying an extra hour because one of the parents was late (which he didn't begrudge because scavenging trips usually run late, it's just the nature of the thing). Finally trudging his way back to his cave chamber, still shuffling through a list of reports on the guard tower debate, he almost tripped over a package sitting in his doorway.

His eyes went wide, and he carefully put the stack of reports off to one side on his table. They could wait. He pulled the package into his cave chamber and gently closed his door. Finally, it had gotten here, after delay after delay. He slowly opened the box.

The ink! The base for all of his tattoos, and in short supply lately. He'd had to order some from an outside alchemical laboratory. It had to be capable of conducting magical energy, but also be nontoxic. He'd not had time to mix any of his own in months what with his mounting responsibilities as de facto leader of the Council (over his vehement objections).

He sighed, and put the vials in his preservation cabinet. Magically enhanced to slow time within its confines, the cabinet would ensure the ink wouldn't decay at all before he got the chance to use it. An unnecessary precaution, he was sure, but no expense was too much to ensure his work continued. It would have to wait until the current 'crisis' was dealt with. He picked the stack of reports back up, and kept filtering through.

Well, some of these reports were weeks old, and wouldn't have taken into account the increased revenue from recently-ratified trade agreements, but many of the dissertations in favor of the towers failed to account for the salaries of the guards themselves. Granted, the initial cost for the towers wouldn't be that bad, most of the materials were readily available within the reach of the clan. He quietly chuckled as he pondered the absurdity of expending resources to protect resources, which would inherently be lessened by the act of expending them in the first place.

Settling in to his bed, he began his third read-through of the full stack. If a decision was to be made with him as tiebreaker, then it would be the right decision. That, at least, he could be sure of. And that there would be inevitable shouting and arguments no matter what decision he made. Ah well, nothing to do about it but to get it done. Maybe he'd have enough time to draft up a new rune design after his review.

INVENTORY

► RELATIONSHIPS

Gin | Romantic Partner
"Gin... He has problems understanding people. A lot of the tribe see him as this shady and mysterious figure, and maybe that is Gin's intention, but I know him to be patient and approachable. His lack of temper is something to be admired among the council. Tough subjects never seem to be much of an issue. I only long for a time where he'd be home more. He is very capable on his own, but he's also one of the only dragons I can discuss council matters with and receive an unbiased answer. At least, when it's not pertaining to trades."

Name | Relationship
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Exalting Ire to the service of the Gladekeeper 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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