Race: Silver Dragon.
Draconic smell: Fresh/Clean Rain
Social Status:
Mate:
Weight: 420lbs.
Height: 5'7" (Top of head to the ground)
Length: 12’
Wing Span: 32’(tip to tip 16”each wing)
Alignment: Lawful Good.
Deity: Bahamut (God of Good dragon-kind)
Diet: Almost anything; likes trying new things.

Breath weapons: Cone of Cold and Paralyzation Gas. (RP only)

Preferred Treasure: Beautifully crafted gems and jewelry, finely woven fabrics.

Description:
At first glance, the silver dragon you see a sleek small dragon standing no more then 5’7”. Her glossy scales catching the sunlight reflect it. Being a pure silver, her wings are more curved then most dragons she has two talons on her wings rather than the single talon of most dragons. The proud stubborn silver dragon also has a beautiful frill that begins at the top of its head and flows all the way down its neck and body to the tip of the tail. The frill is silver towards the body, fading to a purple hue at the edge. She has two long, smooth silver horns with black tips, pointing up and back from her proud head. Often when she’s near people comment about the smell of rain coming not realizing it’s her scent they smell.

History:
Amariel hatched in the snowy misty peeks of Drecanis in the dead of winter. Her mother being one of the elder females in the clan had mated with a senior male of the clan. Her mother, Nessima had a clutch of thirteen eggs Nessima together with Beriadan guarded their first clutch of eggs. The first to hatch was a dainty wyrmling with scales that where blue-gray with silver highlights which changed to silver over time. Amariel, being true to her Silver heritage as a wyrmling she was an intelligent, kind, extremely curious, and adorable love bug with her parents as well the other members of their clan.

Ama was often found chasing her siblings around the cave when she wasn’t chasing after rodents to pounce and play with them. Growing up she learned to fight and defend her self as well her family from any one who’d teach her from humans, to the elf kin that lived near to where she grew up.

One cold stormy night the raiders came; seeking not only the stock piled treasures of beautifully crafted jewelry and finely woven fabrics the different clan members had gathered over nearly a millennia but their silver scales. Amariel along with her siblings Amoniel, Valdaglerion, Thorontur and Feredir lead the remaining wyrmlings and young ones too small or weak to fight away out a concealed back entrance to their lair that was intended for use in such emergencies.

In the high wind and pelting heavy snow she became separated from her siblings due to a high wind-sheer driving her down among the trees. Landing roughly she knocked her head hard against a heavy redwood. Coming to she was obviously lost and unsure where she was.

Taking flight she flew north west for what seemed days only to find her self in a strange land. Her arrival was a precarious one. Naturally she sought the snowy peeks , growing comfortable in a hidden cave she slept after eating a hearty meal. Weak from flying and lack of food for days on end she passed out once her tummy was full and slept for nearly a full weak: waking only to eat or when she was pestered by one of the locals for help.