Serva

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Slightly crazed - Sornieth's first dragon necromancer (in training)

Mad Darkness

Remained in her birth clan for a while, even took a mate. But after the longing to find her charge became too great she started to wander the lands searching for a new place to call home. Her natural wanderlust and inclination to wonder and study eventually led her toward dragons of a similar nature and thus it was that she found herself joining a flight within the realms of Arcanist and the deep twinkling Starwood Strand. Within her new flight she took a new mate of her kind; though it was a short lived joining as her life was about to take her on a path only she could walk.


As she still sought her charge, the only clue that started to rise its head to her was a feeling, deeply embedded within her, that her charge must be a living creature. A fact supported in her hunt as only a living creature could migrate or that otherwise never live long in the same place; for her methodical searching had yet to yield even a hint of her finding any scent or sight of her charge.

As the months turned into years she grew ever more desperate and depressed with her lack of completion as a Guardian. Steadily as her maps and plans started to show fewer and fewer zones to search, though with her growing gloom of her situation she was also searching less and less far from her territory. Though there were vast areas she'd never even thought of searching her depression made the world around her smaller and smaller, and her chances of finding her charge less and less.

Until one day she was staring down at the skull of some large beast that had fallen decades ago. For some reason if fascinated her, she couldn't stop touching, turning, sniffing and inspecting every angle. From the intricate pattern of the fused plates over the cranium down to the hollowed out tubes for the nostrils or the last few teeth solidly locked into the upper part of the jaw. Then it dawned upon her.

She could not find her charge not because it was alive and evading her, she could not find it because she'd failed to find it soon enough. In an instant her body slumped and a wave of sadness washed over her; the metal impact of that thought resonating within her body like a powerful blow. She struck the ground with a thud and lay there. Not sobbing, nor shedding a tear, but in a numb state of pure shock and woe.

She never knew how long she lay there; her only motion the regular swell and contraction of her body in breathing. However as time passed the haze of shock wore steadily off; the chill of night touched her and she lifted her head. By some strange quirk of fate as her head had hit the ground she'd struck the skull she'd been holding; the bone hardly yielding and instead become stuck upon the hard scale and bone of her own head. The light hint of earth filling her nostrils as they breathed through the dead helm upon her head.

But this was a minor thing, in fact so minor she didn't even think to remove it. Instead her mind was starting to race, a new thought had bubbled up from the dark depths of her depression. A memory long past of seeing the ground burnt and torn from the passing of an Emperor; its body decayed and dead yet still moving.


Her charge was dead, but death was not the end. She still had to find her charge, but its death need not be her failing. A great shiver ran through her body and a rushing feeling of hope and energy mixed with it; a feeling she'd not felt since the day she'd set out full of lustre in her youth to first search for her charge. A moment later and her belly reminded her that she had not yet fed, possibly in days. One step at a time she moved, a new strength within her to seek out her charge.



Time passed and her hunt goes poorly.
Accepting that her charge was dead was the first step, the second was still to find it. To her mind the living knew where the living were; thus it stood to reason that the dead should know where the dead also lay within the ground. She had seen an Emperor, its mind riddled with madness and destruction, so she knew there was no hope there to find what she was after. Indeed the melding of bodies and minds clearly destroyed whatever sanity the Imperial bodies once held whilst living. No she would not find her answer from an Emperor.

So she flew to the Observatory and began a great hunt through tomes and dusty books. Page after page, book after book she poured over every detail to do with death that she could find. Yet within these un-living pages she found little to give her hope.

One time she flew to the lightning fields, having heard of the odd behaviour of some dragons there who found entertainment in the dancing legs of dead amphibians of all things. Indeed it quite excited her that the lighting that ripped through the sky with great thunder and light could bring life again, even for a fleeting moment, to the dead. However when she viewed the random muscle spasms that caused the legs to dance before her eyes she saw nothing of worth. Her studies confirmed it was just random twitches and she mused that a sufficient amount of lightning on one of the legs of the living dragons who was gleefully showing her dancing frogs would elect a similar crazed dancing from the dragon.

Another time she coasted over the battlefield where several Imperials had died, yet before any others had reached the field to drag the bodies apart least they fuse. Her dark shadow flitting back and forth high in the sky even held back some other dragons, assuming she might perform the grislly duty for them. But in time she passed on, clearly seeing an Emperor rise from the grave was going to be such a rare event she could waste valuable time staring and it might never happen, so random was the chance.

When the eccentric Pearlcatcher Baldwin was found to have warped his form through chemical means she was most excited. Indeed she spent many weeks within the coven of pearlcatchers and Bogsneaks and the wafting mixed scents from their cauldrons. But they were not seeking what she was; their experiments yielded nothing that would interest her. Even the rendering down of familiars and the creation of new ones, whilst important information for her, was nothing like the reincarnation she was after. Asides those creatures born of the cauldrons were wild chittering critters who could not even answer her most basic of questions.
Aside from those facts the only other gain for her was a red tint to her claws and talon tips. A change to her body that she would never admit to others, and hardly to herself, that she was pleased with.

Her lair gradually took on a curious look for a dragon; one part books fastidiously dusted and kept clean. Gathered from any corner she could find them in; the dusty tombs of those races that had lived before; dusty books stored in the corner of other lairs or the darker parts of the Observitory. Always so dusty, so poorly kept by others, but not her.
Another part contraptions and chemicals from various experiments; lightning generators, strange bottles of every colour and jars that held floating bits for later study.
The final part more vile and, though clean, hinting of the macabre experiments she conducted; cages and white marble tables, an assortment of cutting tools and surgical items to let her truly study the living and dead.

A grave site kept on the windward side so that the scent of decay was carried away from her lair. Bodies lay there, various creatures she'd hunted, caught and slain. Some years old, others fresh and new. Each one a failed test in some new attempt to bring life to the dead through various dark means. Indeed to the beastkin her name was already carrying a dark reputation of a reaper.

She was never cruel for the sake of it; wires and cables connected to living, then dead bodies. Chemicals ingested, claws worming their way into corpses. Macabre and hellish, yet she never drew joy from the acts. Her joy was in learning and study and in learning more of the barrier between life and death. Her goal to learn what sparked that final change, what changed in the body between life and death and how to restore that connection in the dead, even if just for a few fleeting moments. A chance to ask that question of the dead of where her charge was.


It was many years before another Emperor was sighted. Though she knew there was little to gain she still flew from her dark lair. The sun bright on her scales and flashing off the bone helm by now fused to her scales. Decoration for some was now her face and had been for as long as she dared to recall of her past.
Yet again she found the scorched ground; the well of death and decay that followed in the wake of the Emperor. A lens gleaned from another Arcanist in her claws that she held to her eyes; letting her view further than even her impressive vision could let her. A distant view of the Emperor, its many head writhing madly as it attacked a settlement of Kin. It's actions beyond even the mad frenzy of a beast in the moment of the kill; tearing its own body apart almost in its ferocity.

It was in those moments that she had a fresh revelation. The Imperials had likely died in some painful mass death. Their bodies already scored and marred with the pains of a deadly battle that they had paid the ultimate price for. It wasn't just the many minds, it was the pain of death itself that had tortured this creature beyond sanity. This caused her to reflect upon her own, failed, experiments in death. Realising that, for all her efforts, the pain she inflicted upon some of her test subjects was forever going to taint her efforts.

Turning she returned to her lair, a new goal and target in sight now. She needed the recently dead, of that she was convinced. But to gain the dead without pain or harm, to let them slip into death in a peaceful, calm manner. Poison she considered and discounted, she could never be convinced that the very moments of death were pain free when induced by other means; indeed her studies told her that most means of inducing death caused pain to the subject.

So she set out; she must find a den of Kin to bring unto her confidence, a den far from her lair where her reputation was too well established to have any creature trust her. She must find this settlement of kin and take them under her dark wings. To protect them through life, to ensure that they never came to harm; to be there for when they fell to pick them up. To wait that inevitable day that befell all the shorter lived species when old age claimed their life.
Deep inside her, buried under years of sadness, emptiness and twisted thoughts a little spark flared. She didn't notice the slight life to her wings, the hint of a more confident edge to her stride (not that her stride had ever lacked the purity of confidence that her long search had by now forged in her). As she set out to take over this Kin and to protect them a little glimmer of her deep buried nature flared into life. Something "right" slipped into place in her mind.