Uncial
(#34503315)
Level 1 Tundra
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Female Tundra
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.08 m
Wingspan
3.66 m
Weight
230.4 kg
Genetics
Moon
Jaguar
Jaguar
Moon
Rosette
Rosette
Rose
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Tundra
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
- Yano
- Constelado
- Vadelmatassu
- Moonpetal
- Luna
- Ocelot
- Simon
- Vinter
- Ornament
- Slushie
- Tomb
- Tiros
- Nietos
- Astureon
- Winter
- Merlot
- Hiutale
- Runic
- Panthera
- Selene
- Tremere
- Luminen
- Selene
- Aine
- Lyra
- Barss
- Phebe
- Starfield
- Fumor
- Snowspell
- Apep
- Mama
- Kuutar
- Teiru
- Osoi
- Nirra
- Mouse
- Spike
- Skhav
- Pecan
- Sangria
- Unnamed
- Lucian
- Dancer
- MoonSpots
- Rosette
- Caeswyn
Biography
Lumileopardi (Uncia uncia)
In the Ashfall Wastes there are rivers of fire and plumes of smoke that blot out the sun; in the Scarred Wasteland there are pools of poison that spread over the earth like a festering wound. Now it is said, by the dragons who live in the harsher lands, that the gods force their mortal children through this torment as not a curse but a lesson, to bear the hardships of this world. And there are others that whisper that the reigning gods are simply passive, unknowing or uncaring that the many dragons in their lands struggle simply to survive.
The lands of the Young God, the Arcanist, are different. Perhaps it was his youth that led the Arcanist to take such interest in shaping his lands, a spark of benevolence that some of his elder kin had lost after time. Perhaps it was his estrangement from the older gods that made him so daring, so determined to accomplish such a feat. So the tales say, but whatever the truth, it is known that the Arcanist, during his travels, came to a swath of low plains and small islands unclaimed by any other god, and took the land for his own; he raised the earth, bringing entire islands to the safety of the air, guarding them with claw-like mountains that glittered with a beautiful pink light. When that was done he warded the Isles with his most powerful magics and abjurations, guarding it from all harm, and so generations of the Arcanist's children grew and prospered in peace.
This is the tale known by all who live in the Arcanist's lands; and this was the tale told to Uncial, when she was a young hatchling under her mother's watchful eye. She was a Tundra, with strange spotted fur like a jaguar-cat, and in those days it was still black-and-white all over; she grew sheltered in the Crystalspine Reaches, playing with her nest-mates under the warding mountains and learning the ways of the strange, magical land; she studied in the Starwood Strand, marveling at the flowers and trees that glowed in the night like a galaxy fallen to earth. And Uncial grew to love the Starfall Isles and the strange wonders that the lands hid, and most of all she grew to love to explore.
But as Uncial grew yet older, her heart became more restless; she yearned for all things that were new and unseen, and she travelled to the ends of the Isles in her searches. When she flown to every peak of the Crystalspine and back down again she went to the Starwood Strand; and when she had peered at every flower and tree in the Starwood she went to the Focal Point; and when she had memorized every flicker and glow of the meteors, and when even the sight of the floating islands held no more interest for her, she decided to do something different.
"Mother," she said one day, staring out across the oceans, to the lands that could be seen waiting on the horizon. "What lies out there, beyond the Crystalspine and the Starwood?"
And her mother, who had known that this day would come, and that she could not stop it, said in a tired and sad voice: "To the east lies the Wasteland of the Plaguebringer; to the South are the Icefields, from where our ancestors came. Farther north and east there are others, each different and dangerous in their own way; but I expect that you intend to find that out yourself."
And Uncial packed a bag and departed her Clan, mind whirling with the prospect of adventure, almost giddy at the thought of all the new things she would discover. After bidding farewell to her Clanmates she made her way south, passing through the Starwood until the trees thinned and the earth's pink hue faded into a dull brown, and it was then that Uncial knew that she had passed out of the Arcanist's domain.
From island to island Uncial flew, over the stretches of ocean until the Starfall Isles were nothing but a pink glow on the horizon. And still she headed ever south, to the Icefields, for she was eager to see where her tundra ancestors had once lived, and she thought that she could withstand the cold, anyways. As she flew onwards, the rocky earth of the islands grew more barren and the air grew still and cold; and before she knew it, before her was the gleaming, frozen expanse of the floes, where the Icewarden's territory began.
She spent more time there than might be thought, wandering amongst the fractured ice, marveling at their austere beauty and at the strange creatures that squirmed beneath in the chill waters. And when she was finished she moved to the tundra, with its frozen earth and its trees that stayed stubbornly green even amongst the snow, and stayed a while with the dragons that lived there. But though they warned her not to press onwards, Uncial persisted, continuing onwards until she came upon a looming mountain range with peaks wreathed in the clouds.
Uncial had climbed the Crystalspine Reaches; she had braved the dizzying heights of the Focal Point. Perhaps this is why she pressed forward. She flew higher and higher until the air grew thin and the peaks of the mountains grew tantalizingly closer, and when the wind and sleet became too fierce to fly she climbed. But it was cold, a cold that seeped through her thick fur and into her bones, the howling wind biting into her until it was all she could feel. It was cold like nothing else Uncial had felt before and she, for the first time, wondered if she should turn back. But as sought to retrace her steps and return to the tundra she realized that she was unsure as to how exactly she was going to get back. To her left was a mountain, to the right an identical mountain; the wind and snow blew about her, the storm growing fiercer and fiercer till she could scarcely see a few feet ahead of her. And Uncial grew afraid.
Through the storm and the snow Uncial labored, hungry and tired, till at last she grew too tired to continue; she slumped under the shadow of a giant boulder, resolving to rest just for a while, though in truth she doubted she would be able to rise again. As her vision grew hazy and dim, the whirling snow all around her seemed to take on shadowy shapes in front of her eyes, and she watched with vague interest as they formed and faded until she thought she could hear one speak.
"Uncial," it said, voice as faint as a whisper upon the wind. "You have come very far."
"Yes, I have," Uncial said, and though she heard herself speak she wasn't sure if she had said the words out loud or silently, in her heart. But there was a numbness setting into her, from the cold or from something else, and she could not bring herself to feel fear.
"You are in great danger," said the voice, and she thought it sounded slightly familiar. "And I am sorry to say that your situation is very serious. You might die here, alone, if you don't get up and move. It would be best if you started now."
Uncial blinked her eyes and strained her limbs; she forced herself upwards until she was standing shakily on four legs once more, but as she tried to take another step she stumbled and nearly fell again. "I can't," she said, "And anyways even if I start walking I don't know where to walk to. I'm lost. I think it might be all over for me, and perhaps I should have stayed home. Then I wouldn't have to be here."
"Perhaps," said the voice, the shadow in the snow.
"But," said Uncial vaguely, "I can't bring myself to regret it, you know? I wanted to see the world. And I did, a small part of it at least, and even if I had another chance I think I would choose to travel again. There's so much to see. Is that wrong?"
"It is not wrong," said the voice, and as the wind swirled the shape seemed to grow more defined, more real, and it was glowing with a faint light. "I did not raise the Starfall Isles and ward my lands to prevent my children from leaving. I only thought to protect them. There are always those amongst my children who look to the horizon, and I won't stop that! Such things are natural. Commendable. But you, Uncial, have gotten in over your head. Couldn't you have picked a more cheerful place to begin? No matter. I'll help you out, just this once, but do be a little more careful in the future. And don't forget too completely about home. "
"Wait, who are you?" said Uncial, whose head was clearing a little, and was beginning to wonder what she was talking to, or if it was really there.
The light grew brighter, more intense, and a little pink. No, it was pink, growing more vivid in hue and ever brighter until suddenly the glow grew warm and gentle, and for a second Uncial could see the shape of something with many limbs and wings, watching her. Then the its form faded, the light scattered, breaking into small glowing fragments that swirled around her and settled onto her fur. And there they remained, glowing pleasantly.
Uncial looked up. There was nothing ahead of her but the mountains and snow. She looked down at herself again, at the glowing pink runes on her fur. As she watched they seemed to glow brighter, tiny beams of light radiating out until they seemed to point at a spot in the distance.
Uncial followed the beams of light, stumbling forwards and losing track of time completely until she realized she was standing at the foot of the mountains, on the tundra. After stopping to recover she realized that the beams were still shining, still pointing at a spot in the distance, and curiously she followed them. She passed through the tundra, over the ice floes, following the light until she saw a familiar pink shape on the horizon and realized she was at the edge of the Starfall Isles.
Uncial, for once, was glad to be home, and took a long rest in the land where she had grown. But as her strength returned, so did her yearning to see what the other lands had to offer, and she left again without hesitation and with the Arcanist's blessing written in runes on her fur. And so it is that Uncial travels the many lands of the world, seeing and recording the strangest of sights, though she never forgets the land where she was born, and when she is in trouble or wants to return, the runes on her body begin to shine, guiding her home.
In the Ashfall Wastes there are rivers of fire and plumes of smoke that blot out the sun; in the Scarred Wasteland there are pools of poison that spread over the earth like a festering wound. Now it is said, by the dragons who live in the harsher lands, that the gods force their mortal children through this torment as not a curse but a lesson, to bear the hardships of this world. And there are others that whisper that the reigning gods are simply passive, unknowing or uncaring that the many dragons in their lands struggle simply to survive.
The lands of the Young God, the Arcanist, are different. Perhaps it was his youth that led the Arcanist to take such interest in shaping his lands, a spark of benevolence that some of his elder kin had lost after time. Perhaps it was his estrangement from the older gods that made him so daring, so determined to accomplish such a feat. So the tales say, but whatever the truth, it is known that the Arcanist, during his travels, came to a swath of low plains and small islands unclaimed by any other god, and took the land for his own; he raised the earth, bringing entire islands to the safety of the air, guarding them with claw-like mountains that glittered with a beautiful pink light. When that was done he warded the Isles with his most powerful magics and abjurations, guarding it from all harm, and so generations of the Arcanist's children grew and prospered in peace.
This is the tale known by all who live in the Arcanist's lands; and this was the tale told to Uncial, when she was a young hatchling under her mother's watchful eye. She was a Tundra, with strange spotted fur like a jaguar-cat, and in those days it was still black-and-white all over; she grew sheltered in the Crystalspine Reaches, playing with her nest-mates under the warding mountains and learning the ways of the strange, magical land; she studied in the Starwood Strand, marveling at the flowers and trees that glowed in the night like a galaxy fallen to earth. And Uncial grew to love the Starfall Isles and the strange wonders that the lands hid, and most of all she grew to love to explore.
But as Uncial grew yet older, her heart became more restless; she yearned for all things that were new and unseen, and she travelled to the ends of the Isles in her searches. When she flown to every peak of the Crystalspine and back down again she went to the Starwood Strand; and when she had peered at every flower and tree in the Starwood she went to the Focal Point; and when she had memorized every flicker and glow of the meteors, and when even the sight of the floating islands held no more interest for her, she decided to do something different.
"Mother," she said one day, staring out across the oceans, to the lands that could be seen waiting on the horizon. "What lies out there, beyond the Crystalspine and the Starwood?"
And her mother, who had known that this day would come, and that she could not stop it, said in a tired and sad voice: "To the east lies the Wasteland of the Plaguebringer; to the South are the Icefields, from where our ancestors came. Farther north and east there are others, each different and dangerous in their own way; but I expect that you intend to find that out yourself."
And Uncial packed a bag and departed her Clan, mind whirling with the prospect of adventure, almost giddy at the thought of all the new things she would discover. After bidding farewell to her Clanmates she made her way south, passing through the Starwood until the trees thinned and the earth's pink hue faded into a dull brown, and it was then that Uncial knew that she had passed out of the Arcanist's domain.
From island to island Uncial flew, over the stretches of ocean until the Starfall Isles were nothing but a pink glow on the horizon. And still she headed ever south, to the Icefields, for she was eager to see where her tundra ancestors had once lived, and she thought that she could withstand the cold, anyways. As she flew onwards, the rocky earth of the islands grew more barren and the air grew still and cold; and before she knew it, before her was the gleaming, frozen expanse of the floes, where the Icewarden's territory began.
She spent more time there than might be thought, wandering amongst the fractured ice, marveling at their austere beauty and at the strange creatures that squirmed beneath in the chill waters. And when she was finished she moved to the tundra, with its frozen earth and its trees that stayed stubbornly green even amongst the snow, and stayed a while with the dragons that lived there. But though they warned her not to press onwards, Uncial persisted, continuing onwards until she came upon a looming mountain range with peaks wreathed in the clouds.
Uncial had climbed the Crystalspine Reaches; she had braved the dizzying heights of the Focal Point. Perhaps this is why she pressed forward. She flew higher and higher until the air grew thin and the peaks of the mountains grew tantalizingly closer, and when the wind and sleet became too fierce to fly she climbed. But it was cold, a cold that seeped through her thick fur and into her bones, the howling wind biting into her until it was all she could feel. It was cold like nothing else Uncial had felt before and she, for the first time, wondered if she should turn back. But as sought to retrace her steps and return to the tundra she realized that she was unsure as to how exactly she was going to get back. To her left was a mountain, to the right an identical mountain; the wind and snow blew about her, the storm growing fiercer and fiercer till she could scarcely see a few feet ahead of her. And Uncial grew afraid.
Through the storm and the snow Uncial labored, hungry and tired, till at last she grew too tired to continue; she slumped under the shadow of a giant boulder, resolving to rest just for a while, though in truth she doubted she would be able to rise again. As her vision grew hazy and dim, the whirling snow all around her seemed to take on shadowy shapes in front of her eyes, and she watched with vague interest as they formed and faded until she thought she could hear one speak.
"Uncial," it said, voice as faint as a whisper upon the wind. "You have come very far."
"Yes, I have," Uncial said, and though she heard herself speak she wasn't sure if she had said the words out loud or silently, in her heart. But there was a numbness setting into her, from the cold or from something else, and she could not bring herself to feel fear.
"You are in great danger," said the voice, and she thought it sounded slightly familiar. "And I am sorry to say that your situation is very serious. You might die here, alone, if you don't get up and move. It would be best if you started now."
Uncial blinked her eyes and strained her limbs; she forced herself upwards until she was standing shakily on four legs once more, but as she tried to take another step she stumbled and nearly fell again. "I can't," she said, "And anyways even if I start walking I don't know where to walk to. I'm lost. I think it might be all over for me, and perhaps I should have stayed home. Then I wouldn't have to be here."
"Perhaps," said the voice, the shadow in the snow.
"But," said Uncial vaguely, "I can't bring myself to regret it, you know? I wanted to see the world. And I did, a small part of it at least, and even if I had another chance I think I would choose to travel again. There's so much to see. Is that wrong?"
"It is not wrong," said the voice, and as the wind swirled the shape seemed to grow more defined, more real, and it was glowing with a faint light. "I did not raise the Starfall Isles and ward my lands to prevent my children from leaving. I only thought to protect them. There are always those amongst my children who look to the horizon, and I won't stop that! Such things are natural. Commendable. But you, Uncial, have gotten in over your head. Couldn't you have picked a more cheerful place to begin? No matter. I'll help you out, just this once, but do be a little more careful in the future. And don't forget too completely about home. "
"Wait, who are you?" said Uncial, whose head was clearing a little, and was beginning to wonder what she was talking to, or if it was really there.
The light grew brighter, more intense, and a little pink. No, it was pink, growing more vivid in hue and ever brighter until suddenly the glow grew warm and gentle, and for a second Uncial could see the shape of something with many limbs and wings, watching her. Then the its form faded, the light scattered, breaking into small glowing fragments that swirled around her and settled onto her fur. And there they remained, glowing pleasantly.
Uncial looked up. There was nothing ahead of her but the mountains and snow. She looked down at herself again, at the glowing pink runes on her fur. As she watched they seemed to glow brighter, tiny beams of light radiating out until they seemed to point at a spot in the distance.
Uncial followed the beams of light, stumbling forwards and losing track of time completely until she realized she was standing at the foot of the mountains, on the tundra. After stopping to recover she realized that the beams were still shining, still pointing at a spot in the distance, and curiously she followed them. She passed through the tundra, over the ice floes, following the light until she saw a familiar pink shape on the horizon and realized she was at the edge of the Starfall Isles.
Uncial, for once, was glad to be home, and took a long rest in the land where she had grown. But as her strength returned, so did her yearning to see what the other lands had to offer, and she left again without hesitation and with the Arcanist's blessing written in runes on her fur. And so it is that Uncial travels the many lands of the world, seeing and recording the strangest of sights, though she never forgets the land where she was born, and when she is in trouble or wants to return, the runes on her body begin to shine, guiding her home.
Story by
Kongming
Kongming
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