Praxiteles

Praxiteles

Name meaning: action towards an aim, from the Greek elements πραξις ("praxis") action, exercise and τελος ("telos") aim, goal
Nicknamed (feel free to give him a nickname, I know “Praxiteles” is a mouthful!) Prickly/Prickly Tail

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From the moment he hatched, Praxiteles felt driven to find his Charge. Unlike his mother, he felt his duty to protect could not be put off in favor of maintaining a clan and raising a family. Unlike his elder twin siblings, Tamsyn and Jamsheed, he did not feel it was his Charge to fight in the Coliseum, to defeat the Beastclan adversaries and bring home their food and trinkets as a means to support the clan. And unlike his elder sister and nestmate, Sumayya, he did not feel the call to serve the Arcanist. He left his home lair (158838, sgkat), determined to travel the world and find his Charge.

(Please add to his lore as he travels! I hope that at some point his travels will cease – that he finds his Charge. If that happens, please message me (158838, sgkat), I’d love to know!)

If ever you feel the urge to exalt, Praxiteles would really appreciate it if you could just return him home instead, or to the 'Dragons Off To See The World' thread, here.

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Praxiteles was not quite sure when the bright, curved mountaintops of the Arcanist's lands turned into tall, gnarled trees, but turn they did, and soon enough they were blotting out the sky. He tucked his wings close, but urged himself onward. He was a Guardian, and a Guardian would not be shaken by the dark, or the dozens of glimmering eyes watching him from the shadows, or the eerie noises that were most certainly not terrifying beasts of darkness looking to make quick work of a lone dragonling foolish enough to wander into their domain (a quiet gulp made its way down his throat)...

Fortunately for him, it was not the beasts that came across him first, but a slender, snow-white dragon that looked as out of place in the woods as he felt. She wasn't much of a conversation partner (all she'd do is hiss now and again), but, before he could argue she ushered him through the forest and to what turned out to be a lair dug into the side of a huge dam.

"Pri-ckley-taileys? His tail don' look that prickly to-ow!" one of a pair of twin hatchlings, a few days older than him but barely even a quarter of his size, cried out as he managed to poke himself in the eye with Praxiteles' tail.

"Pra-xi-te-les," he spelled it out for the fourth time to the curious faes with no name.

"Around here, you earn - your name - when you find - your place," the clan matriarch explained in a coarse, sing-song voice. Standing on her hind legs, she only just about came up to his chin. "And Driftwood Drag is no place for a lost hatching."

Praxiteles opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off.

"We don't go giving handouts to every little stray that walks up to our lair," the diminutive dragon told him, sternly and rapidly. The dragonling felt his heart sink. "Buuuut... if you can carry your weight, maaaaybe-maybe- there's room for a deal. Keep the nests clean, look after a few of our fine friends (she gestured to the large, raven-like bird beside her), and we make sure that by the time you go trotting off on your... quest again, you don't end up dinner for someone else. Favour for a favour."

Praxiteles looked back at the gloomy shapes outside. It was a hard offer to pass up. The matriarch smiled.

"Welcome to the clan, prickly tail."

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Time passed, and by the time Praxiteles felt his wanderlust building up again, he was almost sorry to go. The Twins said their goodbyes ("Don't you go forgetting about us, you hear?") - they better resembled adults now, but to Praxiteles it seemed that they grew smaller by the day. They weren't the only ones sad to see him go.

"Looks like that one's taken a shine to you," the Matriarch smiled, gesturing towards the purple and green moth fluttering around him. Not exactly his Charge, but certainly a good companion for the road.

Praxiteles bid them all fairwell, belly full and familiar in tow, and set off through the dark, but now far less daunting woods.

(Launchycat: So... this kind of got away from me. Hope you enjoyed reading, at least?)

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Clan Huldra welcomed the guardian like it did most dragons - with a thorough search at the gates of the Great Bazaar. He became more acquinted with Darelliun than he cared for. For some reason she thought it likely that he was a run-away-criminal, and he spent a not-so-good week in a cell, getting interrogated and, finally, turned away.

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The interrogation at Clan Huldra had left him weak of both body and spirit. He began to question the search for his charge...was he ready for this? Would he be ready to accept his charge, no matter how difficult it may be? He turned to head north, thinking that he could return home to serve the grace of the Arcanist. No one would question an honorary exalting. But first, he needed to lay down and rest...

Praxiteles woke up in a groggy haze, confused as a giant pink dragon pulled at his tail, then prodded the wound on his leg, resulting in a massive scream from Praxiteles. "Right, sorry about that," said Bikaver, who was out on patrol for his clan. "It's good to know you'll put up no fight, I'm surprised you can even stand on that leg," he muttered as he nudged his massive shoulders underneath Praxiteles and hauled him onto his backside. Still woozy, Praxiteles looked around for his familiar, but was unable to see where it had flown off to as he slept and too weak to protest. Hopefully his pet was safe, wherever he was. The pink dragon carried him back to his clan in the land of the Hewn City, bandaged him up, and let him rest safely. As the clan began to prepare for the festivities of the Brightshine Jubilee, Praxiteles knew it was time to continue his journey, one way or another.

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Those Who Have Helped Praxiteles on His Quest:
158838, sgkat
152475, Launchycat
12962, Zikul
100601, Abu
49205, Miraear
(please add your lair and username here)