Toshi
(#33472896)
All our people die in the end. It doesn't mean we lose.
Familiar
Rabid Grinfin
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 45/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Male Mirror
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.68 m
Wingspan
5.9 m
Weight
629.3 kg
Genetics
Azure
Jaguar
Jaguar
Violet
Stripes
Stripes
Red
Spines
Spines
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 2 Mirror
EXP: 56 / 641
STR
13
AGI
5
DEF
5
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
5
MND
5
Biography
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Toshi
"Mirror" |
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Once upon a time...
There lived a beautiful queen. Her fur was grey like ash and blossoms of blood bloomed under her skin, peeking out beneath her matted fur like a bouquet covered in mold. She wore a crown of bone and her claws were always thickly coated with red and white. Some was paint. Some was blood. The queen had a daughter, beautiful like the sea, and with eyes like gemstones that sparkled with a warrior's mind. She was cunning and dastardly, her words as sharp and deadly as her claws.
And then the queen had a son. Her mate had left her with egg, alone to brood upon the nest. Rage filled her heart, festering like infection in a wound. She called out to her gods, spent her nights wailing from the mountain top above her home, begging for the strength to carry out her revenge.
The egg hatched. The beast that crawled from within was blue, like his sister, but spines of divine red trailed down his back and along his left side. Along his right side bloomed blossoms of red, just like his mother. She praised his hatching, a sign from her gods, a gift of revenge against her traitorous mate.
The child grew and wanted for nothing. His mother filled his head with tales of glory and promises of lands and conquest to be his. His older sister was resentful and cold at first, furious that her younger brother was to be heralded as the chosen one while she was left with nothing. But their mother was clever and promised her daughter the command of armies, and so she was satisfied. The two children of war fancied themselves the peacemakers of the gods, the heralds of their will, and the bringers of justice to those who would stand against them. As their mother trained them, they learned to grow hateful of their absent father, anger filled their minds for a dragon neither had ever seen.
Rumors grew, the absent king amassing an army in the South, an army of Gaolers at his command. Pride and fury blinded them, and the queen who could not let go of her past sent away her children, who went willingly and with glee, the taste of blood fueling them, making them strong. Ice and snow stained red with vengeance and the twins of balance had at last been baptized in their brutality. They returned with many spoils of war and new devotees, but no sign of their traitorous father.
The daughter goes out, searching for battles to fuel her blind ambitions, bathing in the scent of fury and death. The son waits, ever patient. He is the Judgement, the Prince of Crystal Castle. He is fate and executioner to all brought before him. He is patient, but not wise. Rage blinds him and retribution clouds his judgement, a lingering pain from a wound that never touched him. The Queen stands behind them both, ever-watching, ever-waiting, ever-scheming. Her plans have grown, her sights reaching further and further. The wars of her father entice her, his failures call to be her triumphs. So she waits, and gathers her armies. One day she may march to the gates of the world and call upon her gods to come down from their realms and bathe the world in their light and darkness. One day the daughter of the mirror will lead the army of both land and sea across the planes and through time itself. One day the son will judge the Eleven themselves and find them guilty of every crime.
For now he waits, the Prince on his throne of stone. Waiting, watching, ever vigilant. Ever patient. Ever ready for the next turning of the wheel.
There lived a beautiful queen. Her fur was grey like ash and blossoms of blood bloomed under her skin, peeking out beneath her matted fur like a bouquet covered in mold. She wore a crown of bone and her claws were always thickly coated with red and white. Some was paint. Some was blood. The queen had a daughter, beautiful like the sea, and with eyes like gemstones that sparkled with a warrior's mind. She was cunning and dastardly, her words as sharp and deadly as her claws.
And then the queen had a son. Her mate had left her with egg, alone to brood upon the nest. Rage filled her heart, festering like infection in a wound. She called out to her gods, spent her nights wailing from the mountain top above her home, begging for the strength to carry out her revenge.
The egg hatched. The beast that crawled from within was blue, like his sister, but spines of divine red trailed down his back and along his left side. Along his right side bloomed blossoms of red, just like his mother. She praised his hatching, a sign from her gods, a gift of revenge against her traitorous mate.
The child grew and wanted for nothing. His mother filled his head with tales of glory and promises of lands and conquest to be his. His older sister was resentful and cold at first, furious that her younger brother was to be heralded as the chosen one while she was left with nothing. But their mother was clever and promised her daughter the command of armies, and so she was satisfied. The two children of war fancied themselves the peacemakers of the gods, the heralds of their will, and the bringers of justice to those who would stand against them. As their mother trained them, they learned to grow hateful of their absent father, anger filled their minds for a dragon neither had ever seen.
Rumors grew, the absent king amassing an army in the South, an army of Gaolers at his command. Pride and fury blinded them, and the queen who could not let go of her past sent away her children, who went willingly and with glee, the taste of blood fueling them, making them strong. Ice and snow stained red with vengeance and the twins of balance had at last been baptized in their brutality. They returned with many spoils of war and new devotees, but no sign of their traitorous father.
The daughter goes out, searching for battles to fuel her blind ambitions, bathing in the scent of fury and death. The son waits, ever patient. He is the Judgement, the Prince of Crystal Castle. He is fate and executioner to all brought before him. He is patient, but not wise. Rage blinds him and retribution clouds his judgement, a lingering pain from a wound that never touched him. The Queen stands behind them both, ever-watching, ever-waiting, ever-scheming. Her plans have grown, her sights reaching further and further. The wars of her father entice her, his failures call to be her triumphs. So she waits, and gathers her armies. One day she may march to the gates of the world and call upon her gods to come down from their realms and bathe the world in their light and darkness. One day the daughter of the mirror will lead the army of both land and sea across the planes and through time itself. One day the son will judge the Eleven themselves and find them guilty of every crime.
For now he waits, the Prince on his throne of stone. Waiting, watching, ever vigilant. Ever patient. Ever ready for the next turning of the wheel.
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Description
Toshi is a chimera. On one side, spotted jaguar trails down his side, dotted with brilliant red and orange flowers that flash and glow in the dim light. His wing is brilliant purple streak, light and dark warring in high-contrast stripes along the length of the soft leather. On his other side, green blends into his purple wing and falcon slithers down his side in shades of blue and teal. Red spines fall down his back and left side.
He is considered both a blessing and a curse depending on who you ask. No matter the opinion, he is undoubtedly divine. The shade of red that litter his scales is the color of the gods. It is the red of Maple's candles, the red of Nebetka's eyes, the red of Riesling's strings. The mirror is not unusually cruel, though he is not particularly kind either. From his birth he has been both coveted and disdained. Most days he seems divided, one half of him the perfect prince, cautious and wise. The other half is the perfect warrior, terrible and eager for bloodshed. There is no good way to know which part of him you will meet on any given day. His shining pink eyes never change their luster. |
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The Prince of the Crystal Palace, the Divided One, he is a devout follower of the twin gods. He considers himself the physical manifestation of their wills on Sorneith. He is balance and division, the circle of time and fate, the endless war between order and chaos. He is rather full of himself, isn't he? |
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Icons and banners by Serpentra + Natron
Round Flight Icons from Limanya
Round Flight Icons from Limanya
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This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Toshi to the service of the Arcanist 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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