HumanPossession » Clan | Lair | Nesting Grounds

HumanPossession's Clan

I raise my hell, my cane, my stakes, my snakes!

Lesser Lair

near the

Blight Sanctum

Clan Info

.
.
.

F a l l e n
F r o m
G r a c e

.
.

.L o r e.

....

It started with the great divide. Some dragons did not like the way the Greater Clans under the Lightweaver's ever-watching eyes were being run. The way they treated those dragons who weren't born with the most purest of hearts were simply brushed aside or treated as lesser by their own clan mates? Well, enough was enough.

Riot was one such dragon which fought against their oppressors after a long and grueling life of being shunned by her light kin for being an orphaned hatchling. As she grew her more.. darker thoughts and beliefs made her the local target for full scale harassment and being attacked. Being told that she was demented, sick, twisted was one thing, but up until a certain point where she fought back, it was then that she was called a ruthless monster... But they... they are the monsters, are they not? How am I the ruthless monster when I chose to fight back? She would ponder this endlessly. In ways it is said that the voices of the dragons got caught in her head and drove her mad with the relentlessness of their words and actions that it drove the poor hatchling into madness as she grew up into a Banescale. Still she remained exiled and still she would steal and scavenge for her food, steal from other dragons, all in order to survive. It was building up like a bottle ready to burst from pressure.

At the same time, two friends born from two well respected clans within the same area. These clans were inseparable and intertwined since their creations and despite their amicability towards each other, there was still the mutual disdain for dragons that were not of a similar belief. Diablo and Voodoo experienced the same amount of ignorance and isolation from their own clans, and were grouped together for reasons of comfort and companionship. They believed that it was going to be their life forever. That was until Riot's ultimate revolt...

The dragons within the Lightweaver's realm were awakened from sleep by a loud and powerful wailing scream. Riot had finally snapped. The maddened raving screeches of the Banescale reached far and wide as she cursed the Lightweaver and the clans around her whom had shunned her for her differences. "You were supposed to be all knowing! All loving! You were supposed to grant me sanctuary in your home of light. I was even born with your eyes! And yet you deny me! Your clans shun me! your clans abuse and neglect me and you do nothing! Curse you!" As dragons gathered around her they began to talk among themselves, some feeling guilt and remorse for her, others saying she had gone mad herself and that she should be put out of her misery. The crowds of dragons voices became clamored in voices, then yelling, then sparked on an internalized civil war inside the entirety of the Lightweaver's domain. Many were exiled that night, many were killed for even the slightest impurities, nests were purged of the evil they believed spawned from them. In the midst of the chaos, Diablo and Voodoo dragged the lonely Banescale dragonness now heavily beaten and battle-scarred away from the territories of the Light Clans and into the borders of the Shadowbinder and Tidelord.

And thus the three embarked upon their journey, Riot walked alongside her new family with her new battle scars exposed. All those that walked by hurried their steps as they passed them. They knew of their exile and spoke not a word to them, and from the direction they were headed they knew where they were going. After their long journey they reached the festering scarred lands of the Plaguebringer. "This is it," Riot spoke as she achingly lowered her body to take a seat after a long and tiresome voyage. "This is where we will call home." She closed her eyes for but a moment, feeling a sense of peace of which she had not found for so long in the light of the Radiant Eye. Is this what peace feels like? She questioned. That peace... felt disgusting in her chest, like a wriggling worm making it's way through her heart. And she loathed it. Despised it. The short moment of peace was crushed but the feelings of unbridled rage, hatred and determination. She swore an oath that day, looking off into the distance towards the Wyrmwound with her two companions, that she would exact revenge on the time she had lost being shunned and isolated, to be conditioned and be denied of the same respect in return.

They want us to be ourselves? Well, here we are.

.A b o u t.

Luce | He/They | Cancer | ENTP | +3 FR