Name: Nur Asenath.

Gender: Female.

Dragon Race: Troglobite (Cave-Dwelling) Dragon. Nur belongs to a race with a small population, of which the members are mostly solitary. Maturation and breeding is very slow in this race and violent contact with other races is uncommon, allowing dragons like Nur to live great lengths of time. Troglobite dragons are usually eyeless and albino, observing their surroundings through other senses, often accompanied by magic. The race rests and interacts independently of the day-night cycle, passing into periods of low mental activity from time to time but never fully losing conciousness. Some are better adapted to the surface than others, and the most reclusive Troglobite dragons are easily burned by sunlight, or even bright moonlight. Few Troglobite dragons have flight-capable wings, but there are exceptions, mostly those with bat-like or moth-like tendencies that involve leaving the caverns at night. Troglobite dragons, like all dragons, vary in physiology and magical capabilities, but those that do have acute supernatural strength usually include some form of prescience or extra-sensory perception in their powers. Some are capable of projecting their spirits outside their bodies to see or communicate, or interpret glimpses of the future in dreams.

Age: With no seasons or sun to keep count in the depths, Nur really doesn't know how old she is. By comparing her earliest memories of the surface to known years and extrapolating backwards, however, it can be assumed that her age is somewhere around the 2200 mark- Very old, but younger than many other elders.

Position: Caretaker, although Nur behaves like more of a doorkeeper for the hatchlings. Although they do not often leave the very depths, Nur tracks their movements and keeps tabs on their activities and behaviour, aided by her telepathy, hyper-keen senses and lack of a sleep cycle. She also has an occasional mentoring task in observation and mental fortitude. When she can be bothered, she can also direct telepathic messages between caretakers and hatchlings- But she rarely does. Should the depths be endangered, this will be Nur's task, relaying messages and vital information between defenders due to her own lack of combat prowess.

Physical description: For an elder dragon, Nur is exceedingly small. Although her proportions are very long and slender, she still measures only five meters from snout to tail tip. Her body is very thin and lacks scales, fur or any other covering. Her legs are similarly thin, stilt-like with outwards facing joints and small, clawless webbed hands. Having no purpose for flight, Nur's wing bones are not webbed, and instead form an umbrella of highly elongated finger-like appendages around her body, which are extremely sensitive to touch and vibrations. This spider-like array of appendages has limited movement, but the 'fingers' can retract very quickly if they touch something they don't like, or fold away completely into two grooves on the sides of her body. Nur's skull lacks eyes or structures where eyes could once have fit. Two long, movable, pinkish ears stretch from the back of her head, and four long tendrils extend from her lower jaw, further facilitating her sense of touch. Nur's nostrils are small and snake-like, but she often tastes the air with a dexterous forked tongue, which she uses to manipulate objects in place of her feeble hands. She also has an unnerving tendency to lick things, like other dragons, to inspect their taste. Nur has very small and evenly-spaced teeth, but a fast bite with a dizzying, disorientating venom, her best way of defending herself. This venom can also be breathed as a thin fog, but loses effectiveness in air. Beyond this, her only other remarkable feature is her tail, which is also prehensile and bifurcated into two lengths.

History: Nur, as an Elder, was born from no parents- Her infant form crawled out of a Shrine. She instead took her clan name from the name of the Shrine, which was inscribed with the title 'ASENATH'. She does not know from whence her personal name originates, and assumes that it was intuition.

Asenath-Nur, as she was called for many centuries, was among the last of the dragons to emerge from a Shrine. When the first true Cave Dweller came into the world, the Elder dragons had already made the sky their crown and the sea their mantle and the earth their throne, and had begun to produce offspring which would dominate the planet. The Heart of the World from which the First Shrine had sprung was already almost abandoned, as were the flooded, cold and lightless caverns that waited in limbo between the world's outermost layers and deepest core. Asenath-Nur's own abyssal Shrine was created here, and took the form of a broad and shallow pool in the rock, lined by perfectly formed and polished stone, surrounded by half-formed stone sculptures of unknowable meaning. The walls of the chamber were carved with dancing patterns only observable by touch in the darkness, and the roof curved from the walls and arched downwards over the pool to form a single spike, from which water dripped into the center of the pool.

Asenath-Nur grew slowly, but steadily expanded her range as she matured, until caves extending from the Shrine of Asenath all the way to the very surface were part of what she considered her home. By the time she first encountered natural light and the void of the sky, the dragon was an adult powerful in magic. Asenath-Nur was a telepath, capable of projecting her spirit at great speeds outside of her body, taking in huge quantities of information unaided or entering the minds of other dragons she sensed high above and sharing their vision. In those early days Asenath-Nur's power was at its highest, and she could manipulate thought like clay, reading memories and overriding minds at her whim. By this time the other Elders were not alone, and the first few generations had grown into clans. Long before she emerged from the caves into the surface realm in person (dragon), she had already learned much of the races of above, of their feuds and settlements and growing cultures.

In these days, dragons of other races had begun to find themselves lost in the deeper caverns. Asenath-Nur approached them, conversed with them, and usually guided them home, but stole their memories of how they had entered and left the abyss. Some, however, she took under her spidery wing. Starved of light they became blind, but their senses, and perception beyond senses, began to sharpen. These dragons became the family of Asenath-Nur, the parents of her children, which are now diverse in form. The Elder dragon was, for a time, something nearly godlike, a force which some were drawn to and some repulsed by, known on the surface almost exclusively by her roaming mind, cunning, wise, quick to learn. The few audiences she did host in person on the surface where held under the new moon, when sunlight was weakest, when she could appear with her spouses and growing tribe as a passive but extant power.

It was at this time that her power began to waver. The Cave Dwellers had grown as populous as they would ever be. They no longer needed to unite to consolidate their ownership of the depths, nor did they require the protection of their common ancestor. Free to live in silent near-solitude, the tribe spread through the caverns. Her spouses now scattered far and wide, her children having produced offspring of their own, Asenath-Nur lost relevance to her race. A parent who had grown into a leader dissolved into a figure of history. History became myth and Asenath became Nur, an ancient recluse, who rested for many years in a chamber by her Shrine. Far from an involuntary fall from grace, her solitude suited Nur, whose task, she believed, was complete. Many years passed. The Shrine was forgotten by a race that no longer felt a need to congregate under one symbol, and Nur's power became a memory.

[WIP, done but for a bit saying how she got involved with the hatchling project, and the fact that it's so much longer than it needs to be considering the lack of depth. Ideally the completed history will be condensed into about three paragraphs or so.]

Name: Nimbus Stormbringer
Gender: Male
Dragon Race: Storm Dragon
Age: 190
Position: Hatchling
Psychical description: Nimbus was always very small for his age, even now only measuring in at seven feet tall from head to foot. His scales are a medium blue color with a stark white lightning pattern which starts from the back of his eyes and continues all the way to the tip of his tail. He has a bipedal stance, orange eyes with slitlike pupils, and short, pitch black claws. His horns, which point backwards, are the same pitch black color as his claws. Nimbus' underbelly is covered in larger, somewhat more armorlike scales which are a light blue color, and have a strangely stonelike texture... these scales start at his neck and continue, similar to his lightning pattern, all the way to the tip of his tail. Nimbus' snout is also somewhat skinny and long, with an odd scar on the left nostril. His tail is about six feet long and his wings are about seven feet wide each. His wing membrane matches his underbelly in color, but not in texture, and his claws often arc electricity between each other.

History: As one of the supposedly royal hatchlings, Nimbus was taken to the molten core of the planet, and kept there for several decades to train with his magic, or try to learn about peace, or something. None of that really held young Nimbus' attention for very long, so he'd often find other things to do, which would almost always lead to him getting into trouble with the caretakers. For a while, it would simply be small things like sneaking out of his room past bedtime, or taking random things behind the caretaker's back, but after a while, he even got bored with that... well, that and the punishment that would come after that, so he tried something else, something bigger. At the age of only ten, Nimbus decided to head outside of the caves, and out into the real world for once... however... he went the wrong way, and ended up in a strange place filled with snow and ice. Not only did he hate the cold, but apparently the local dragons, which looked nothing like anything Nimbus had ever seen yet, didn't really like him that much. Nimbus, not knowing about the polar dragons at the time, asked one of them if they knew where he could get some warmth, and he was quickly slashed across the nose. The claws went right through his apparently paper thin scales, but Nimbus was still standing... he just didn't know how to fight. One swipe of the polar dragon's tail was enough to knock him out, and apparently send him about fifty feet away from where he was. When he woke up, he was met with the worried face of a caretaker, back in his room.

Apparently, he had broken several ribs from that attack, and also bruised his spine, which made it difficult for Nimbus to move for at least five years. Heck, for the first year after the incident, he had to be carried around by a caretaker, which, of course, meant that he couldn't sneak around or take things anymore. Just as well, as Nimbus learned his lesson by that time, and had nothing better to do than to listen to the lessons being taught by the older dragons that lived in the core of the planet. This led him to finally get a grasp on how to use magic, and he was finally no longer a danger to himself and others due to the fact that this meant that there would be no more accidental shockings of any dragon that Nimbus came into contact with. Nimbus grew to be much more patient and much more calm over the years that he was unable to get around very easily or quickly, and while his ribs eventually healed, neither his new personality nor his scar on his nose reverted back to the way they were. Over the years, he continued to train in both magic and body, hoping that next time he's attacked by a polar dragon, he'd at least be able to run away and attack the thing from a distance. Unfortunately, he has developed a fear of polar dragons since the incident, but that didn't really come into play... that is, until he saw one of the caretakers bringing in an egg that looked suspiciously white, and had a light blue sort of fur-like pattern on it.

Despite his best efforts, Nimbus couldn't destroy the egg. He got close a few times, but his conscious always got the better of him, making him stop his attack every time. The caretakers apparently got the wrong idea, and thought that Nimbus was excited to see another dragon, so they made the mistake of putting the egg in the same room as him. With that egg in his room, Nimbus couldn't sleep at night, in fear that the thing would hatch and then attack him while he slept. Even while awake, he always kept his distance from the thing, hoping that it would never hatch, or simply go bad after a while. If that ever happened, Nimbus would be the first to take that thing over to Mt. Ignis and throw it into the lava, essentially erasing it from this world. Of course, Nimbus never got the chance, as the egg apparently never went bad. Thankfully, the caretakers eventually took the egg back from Nimbus' room, when one of them figured out that he was having issues sleeping because of the thing. That night, Nimbus got his first restful sleep in what felt like years, and he never tried to attack the egg again, just to make sure it never ends up in his room again. Eventually, Nimbus learned that his race, the storm dragons, and the polar dragons, such as the thing that attacked Nimbus when he was young, were at war with one another... which would explain a lot. While he understands the situation a lot better now, he is still afraid of polar dragons, even the unhatched or young ones.

Name: Everyl Rift

Gender: Female

Dragon Race: Melanthe- Shadow Dragon

They are close relatives to the Lost Ones dragons. Named for their dark feathery hides, these dragons are known for their shadow-like tendencies. Due to their lack of scales, they are more vulnerable than most dragons, hence why they rely on sneak attacks and hiding. They are formed for speed and stealth, having aerodynamic bodies that are commonly serpentine. Melanthe lurk in the shadows and prefer the night for additional covertness, and have the ability to be almost invisible in the shadows. With their inclinations for shadows, their eyesight is developed for night vision. Despite their nature for stealth, they have rather ironic bright plumages along their crests. This is both to attract mates as well a type of warning similar to venomous snakes. However, these dragons are not venomous, but they are able to breathe a sort of eerie vapor that can blind and suffocate. Depending on the potency and level of breath they use, they will either use their breath as an escape mechanism to distract their foe or for the kill. Most of those in this race have wings, and the few that don’t often rely on magic for flight. Due to their shape, when they first hatch, their legs cannot support their bodies and ten to slither for most of their hatchling life. After a couple decades, they rely more on their legs. Their territory isn’t defined and is usually in between other dragon territories or even within other territories that aren’t their own. Although most are quadrupedal, they’re also not the most graceful of runners, and sort of maneuver similar to that of a noodle with legs.

Age: 185

Position: Hatchling

Psychical description: Like most of her race, she has a slender serpentine body with black feathers which can expand to make her look bigger for intimidation. From nose to the tip of her tail, Everyl is about twenty feet long, most of the length being her tail and neck. From the top of her head to the ground, she stands at seven feet, including horns, which add about a foot. Along her spine she has a crest of dark red feathers. On the top of her head, between similar red horns bent backwards, she has a crest of tall feather like spines that represent her mood, such as excitement they would raise, and sadness would be lowered. Her snout is beak like and narrow, hiding away sharp teeth. On all her paws, she has four clawed toes, the fourth being a sort of thumb on her front paws, and all are a pitch black much like the rest of her. On her tail she has a sort of fan of red feathers that act as a rudder to help during flight. Her underbelly is well plated as for the beginning of her life she had no use of her legs, and is a dark grey. Like plenty of those of the Melanthe, she has wings, although different from most dragons as they are feathered, being the same black as the rest of her plumage. Her wingspan is a fair fifteen feet, about seven and a half each wing. Her keen eyes are a dark amethyst which have catlike pupils.

History: Like some of the specially chosen eggs, Everyl’s own was taken to the core of the planet. Upon her hatching, she’s always tried to keep her distance from others. This was due to both her uncertainty of the other hatchlings as well as self-consciousness of having feathers and most of the others having scales. It was mostly her imagination, as the others didn’t so much care as much as she did, however, this kept her away and most of her newly hatched life was spent in solitude. This often concerned the caretakers as the young dragons should develop social skills for means of being about to live peacefully with one another. During these attempts of trying to break her out of her shell, the caretakers started out slow, bringing another hatchling as a playmate for Everyl. Most of the tries ended with her spewing out wisps of her dark breath and disappear. This left a coughing young dragon as well caretakers having to search for her in the caves.

She knew the caretakers meant well, but these trials of trying to make her used to others only made her anxious. Much like a bird, during stress she began to shed feathers. Being young, she didn’t understand this, and thought by some miracle, she was becoming a normal dragon. In her excitement, she began to then pluck out her own feathers, not realizing how painful is was. Alarmed at the sounds of her cries, a caretaker found her, surrounded by a pile of dark feathers and beads of blood trickling from where they once were. Instead of scolding her, this caretaker had understood the hatchling’s plight. After patching up the Melanthe, the caretaker explained how despite her look on the outside, Everyl was no different than any other dragon on the inside. She continued, saying how each dragon has their own weaknesses and strength, and what mattered would be how the young dragon had the potential to do great things. After this pep talk, Everyl felt more confident in her appearance, feeling proud of her feathers.

With her newly found confidence, Everyl began taking better care of herself, which grew into a habit of preening herself after becoming dirty, and becoming a neat freak. One time, when several of the hatchlings were practicing their magic and breathes, Everyl was play fighting with another hatchling much like herself. He was friendly and all, but was taking their game too seriously, and Everyl had had enough with his roughhousing. Like many times before, she had released a plume of her shadowy vapor, only to be countered with own flame. It was this moment when Everyl discovered that she definitely didn’t enjoy the smell of her own singed feathers.