[CENTER][h1][color=00746b][u]Skobeloff[/u][/color][/h1][/CENTER]

[color=00746b]"Probably not"[/color] Skobeloff murmured, an uneasy look settling over his features as he was reminded what awaited dragons that grew too old. Neither option for ascension sat well with Skobeloff. To the Trickster, becoming a Mystic meant becoming a prisoner within your own body and becoming an Ancient meant spending the rest of all eternity as a voiceless, near-invisible slave to one of the moons. Skobeloff shuddered at both prospects. Eventually, the drake pulled himself from those dark thoughts and tried to drive them back into the recesses of his subconscious with memories of the time he dreamed about a drunk bugbear carrying him around a hag's cottage. [color=00746b]"We're almost there."[/color] Skobeloff said. [color=00746b]"We'll be able to see it once we're make it past that rock formation over there."[/color]