Agapitos
(#45950756)
Level 4 Guardian
Familiar
Emberglow Gem Guardian
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Guardian
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
19.69 m
Wingspan
20.44 m
Weight
7124.23 kg
Genetics
Banana
Python
Python
Banana
Morph
Morph
Sanddollar
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 4 Guardian
EXP: 1239 / 4027
STR
14
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
15
INT
6
VIT
7
MND
6
Biography
The plains stretched out as far as her eyes could see. Here and there a shrub or bush of some sort, she wasn't very food with flora, dotted the landscape and offered something other than swaying grass to look upon. The landing and flight of birds and the chirping-buzzing of various insects and other creatures made certain that the air was constantly filled with noise, though on the very edges of her hearing she could make out the hushed whispers of the sea rushing against the cliffs she could not quite see. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun, but even cast into a slight shade there was nothing to be seen beyond the plains, the critters, and the brightly lit sky overhead -- for once boasting of not a single cloud.
With a sigh, she lowered her hand and shrugged out of her coat. The day was more blistering than balmy, the air being sucked out to sea rather than blowing in from it and she could feel the sweat on her face beneath its guard and beading on her back. She adjusted her travel satchel and wrapped her greatcoat around one section of the straps before moving forward, scanning this way and that.
A report from a Squire on patrol had declared an odd noise from this area. That had immediately perked her interest and so she had set out to try and discern what it might be. Perhaps a clue, or a lucky chance, to solving one of the longest mysteries that had plagued Gareth's since the Yaenni invasion of so long ago? She had to be sure, and with the Templars being so few in numbers and each of them dedicated to their own cause... She went alone. Better to not reveal secrets if she did find something, after all.
Her eyes roamed as she paced the field, the gold-green grass easily rising to her waist and obscuring what was possibly underfoot, which was likely how one moment she had a foot on firm ground and in the very next moment there was nothing save air and a single shaft of light as she plummeted into darkness with a decidedly uncouth and startled yelp of shock that rung out and echoed back into her own ears.
Slumber. Darkness. Dreams.
The passing of ages was a curious, mutable thing when viewed through the sleeping mind. His lethargy had been intense, the centuries of vigilance over his temple taxing his strength. And so he had slept, the slumbering guardian of the Lightweaver's Bastion. His dreams had been perilous, growing more and more urgent, more sinister as the world had darkened, but so great was his exhaustion that still he slept. Visions, glimpses of a far-off place, followed him from thought to thought, an unbroken chain of events reaching back some thousand years, each examined by his slumbering consciousness. Portents, perhaps, granted by the Holy Mother, or else simply whispers, snippets of what other wyrms had witnessed, shared across all of dragonkind through the Draconus that bound them all as one, snatched from the golden vessel as he slept. A flawless chain of thought and memory, golden and perfect.
That chain shattered into a thousand pieces, scattered musings dissipating as all dreams do in the wake of a cracking from high above, followed by the scream of shock that pierced his thoughts. Even still, rousing was a ponderous thing. Unused muscles refused to budge, at first, protesting their duties after so long neglected. It was a process, one with which he was familiar, and yet found vexing each time. The scream had ceased to echo long before he found the wherewithal to move, then understanding a second concern that had not been readily apparent.
The ceiling of the temple had partially collapsed, it seemed, during his long rest, and great chunks of rock buried most of his form, dust settling over sinew and scale. None of it had been large enough to deal him harm, and yet their weight now gave him pause, weakened as he was. He opened one great golden eye and chuffed, the air billowing dust from his snout and pluming a cloud of it around the crumbled rock that served as his makeshift prison and blanket both.
Feeling she had only one real chance, she tried to gauge her distance from the ground. The darkness was profound, though, and the single ray of light offered very little means as it slanted toward something other angle and left her careening toward an unknown ending. As more of the hole she had created let in more light, though, something beneath her glittered brightly and gave her a small vestige of hope for survival. She could land on that, maybe.
With nerves frayed she took a quick breath and then uttered the cantrip for a tornado, altering the parts so that it only crated a gust rather than a full tempestuous whirlwind. Only... the glittering thing sent out a heavy plume of hot air and her wind was whipped oddly. She flipped about and let out another shocked noise and a moment later found herself getting the air IN her complete knocked out as she slammed into the glittering platform.
An "oof" forced out of her, she bounced and fell from the golden surface. She hit a rock, or something like it as the light continued to grow and fill... a chamber? Senses sent reeling as she finally came to a halt upon a sandy, or maybe only dusty, floor, she sprawled a moment and waited for her lungs to remember how to work properly and for the new space to stop spinning about in such a ridiculous manner. As it did, she become slowly aware of the fact that she was breathing far too loudly... Except... that wasn't her.
Sitting up slowly, a hand going to her head to try and stave off the wild spinning, the young Dame peered about before trying to stand up, grimacing in pain as her ankle and knee both offered twinges of pain. Even so, she managed to reach into a pocket and pull forth a previously made ball of light and throw it toward where she had fallen, giving it the command to rise up and float.
Life. He could sense it.
A rapid heartbeat, tinged by panic, one who had recently faced danger, the sorts of which he did not immediately fathom, in his recently-disturbed somnolence. He was needed.
Muscles groaned and protested, but against such things, he was master. This body, this place, were his, and he would enforce his will upon them to protect the innocent. Rubble shifted, rolling off of his great hide as he rose, serpentine neck craning. Dust cascaded off of his body, sloughing off of unsullied gold like water as he moved. His deliberate motions were meant to slide the stone aside, rather than burst free- if one came to him in need, it would not be by his negligence that they were crushed underfoot.
A single instant, a glance about his environs revealed the depths to which everything was wrong. Gone were the bright sconces and the neatly-ordered rows of offerings to the Lightweaver, the light that burned eternally within this place. Ruin and decay had made their foothold here, moldering stone and crumbling masonry claiming dominance in the gloom. There would be time enough to analyze afterward, however. His gaze fell earthward, seeking the small one who had managed to intrude on this place of ruin.
"Speak, little one, and we shall hear you. What has brought you to the Temple of the Radiant Sun?"
With a sigh, she lowered her hand and shrugged out of her coat. The day was more blistering than balmy, the air being sucked out to sea rather than blowing in from it and she could feel the sweat on her face beneath its guard and beading on her back. She adjusted her travel satchel and wrapped her greatcoat around one section of the straps before moving forward, scanning this way and that.
A report from a Squire on patrol had declared an odd noise from this area. That had immediately perked her interest and so she had set out to try and discern what it might be. Perhaps a clue, or a lucky chance, to solving one of the longest mysteries that had plagued Gareth's since the Yaenni invasion of so long ago? She had to be sure, and with the Templars being so few in numbers and each of them dedicated to their own cause... She went alone. Better to not reveal secrets if she did find something, after all.
Her eyes roamed as she paced the field, the gold-green grass easily rising to her waist and obscuring what was possibly underfoot, which was likely how one moment she had a foot on firm ground and in the very next moment there was nothing save air and a single shaft of light as she plummeted into darkness with a decidedly uncouth and startled yelp of shock that rung out and echoed back into her own ears.
Slumber. Darkness. Dreams.
The passing of ages was a curious, mutable thing when viewed through the sleeping mind. His lethargy had been intense, the centuries of vigilance over his temple taxing his strength. And so he had slept, the slumbering guardian of the Lightweaver's Bastion. His dreams had been perilous, growing more and more urgent, more sinister as the world had darkened, but so great was his exhaustion that still he slept. Visions, glimpses of a far-off place, followed him from thought to thought, an unbroken chain of events reaching back some thousand years, each examined by his slumbering consciousness. Portents, perhaps, granted by the Holy Mother, or else simply whispers, snippets of what other wyrms had witnessed, shared across all of dragonkind through the Draconus that bound them all as one, snatched from the golden vessel as he slept. A flawless chain of thought and memory, golden and perfect.
That chain shattered into a thousand pieces, scattered musings dissipating as all dreams do in the wake of a cracking from high above, followed by the scream of shock that pierced his thoughts. Even still, rousing was a ponderous thing. Unused muscles refused to budge, at first, protesting their duties after so long neglected. It was a process, one with which he was familiar, and yet found vexing each time. The scream had ceased to echo long before he found the wherewithal to move, then understanding a second concern that had not been readily apparent.
The ceiling of the temple had partially collapsed, it seemed, during his long rest, and great chunks of rock buried most of his form, dust settling over sinew and scale. None of it had been large enough to deal him harm, and yet their weight now gave him pause, weakened as he was. He opened one great golden eye and chuffed, the air billowing dust from his snout and pluming a cloud of it around the crumbled rock that served as his makeshift prison and blanket both.
Feeling she had only one real chance, she tried to gauge her distance from the ground. The darkness was profound, though, and the single ray of light offered very little means as it slanted toward something other angle and left her careening toward an unknown ending. As more of the hole she had created let in more light, though, something beneath her glittered brightly and gave her a small vestige of hope for survival. She could land on that, maybe.
With nerves frayed she took a quick breath and then uttered the cantrip for a tornado, altering the parts so that it only crated a gust rather than a full tempestuous whirlwind. Only... the glittering thing sent out a heavy plume of hot air and her wind was whipped oddly. She flipped about and let out another shocked noise and a moment later found herself getting the air IN her complete knocked out as she slammed into the glittering platform.
An "oof" forced out of her, she bounced and fell from the golden surface. She hit a rock, or something like it as the light continued to grow and fill... a chamber? Senses sent reeling as she finally came to a halt upon a sandy, or maybe only dusty, floor, she sprawled a moment and waited for her lungs to remember how to work properly and for the new space to stop spinning about in such a ridiculous manner. As it did, she become slowly aware of the fact that she was breathing far too loudly... Except... that wasn't her.
Sitting up slowly, a hand going to her head to try and stave off the wild spinning, the young Dame peered about before trying to stand up, grimacing in pain as her ankle and knee both offered twinges of pain. Even so, she managed to reach into a pocket and pull forth a previously made ball of light and throw it toward where she had fallen, giving it the command to rise up and float.
Life. He could sense it.
A rapid heartbeat, tinged by panic, one who had recently faced danger, the sorts of which he did not immediately fathom, in his recently-disturbed somnolence. He was needed.
Muscles groaned and protested, but against such things, he was master. This body, this place, were his, and he would enforce his will upon them to protect the innocent. Rubble shifted, rolling off of his great hide as he rose, serpentine neck craning. Dust cascaded off of his body, sloughing off of unsullied gold like water as he moved. His deliberate motions were meant to slide the stone aside, rather than burst free- if one came to him in need, it would not be by his negligence that they were crushed underfoot.
A single instant, a glance about his environs revealed the depths to which everything was wrong. Gone were the bright sconces and the neatly-ordered rows of offerings to the Lightweaver, the light that burned eternally within this place. Ruin and decay had made their foothold here, moldering stone and crumbling masonry claiming dominance in the gloom. There would be time enough to analyze afterward, however. His gaze fell earthward, seeking the small one who had managed to intrude on this place of ruin.
"Speak, little one, and we shall hear you. What has brought you to the Temple of the Radiant Sun?"
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