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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
22.48 m
Wingspan
15.44 m
Weight
8231.25 kg
Genetics
Blood
Iridescent
Iridescent
Umber
Shimmer
Shimmer
Steel
Spines
Spines
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Imperial
Max Level
STR
126
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
59
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
- Xyremita
- Globel
- Dante
- ShadowSinger
- Sythlar
- Kevendithas
- Lucretia
- Samekh
- Hyttier
- Malorn
- Vayne
- Labradorite
- Zazie
- Heth
- Layea
- Crit
- Pike
- Aries
- Axim
- Arven
- Pegasus
- Soric
- Gemini
- Razorflank
- Alseides
- Claystorm
- Sargo
- Mythos
- Maia
- Leokul
- Lucy
- Aedan
- Meiriona
- Savil
- Daiki
- Adelie
- Zayin
- Mai
- Yaal
- Arnold
- Esrare
- Alark
- Hydra
Biography
Hoards: Nobody has seen her hoard...
'Emperor.'
Mercurial eyed her ex-clanmates with well-hidden disdain. That was all they saw, or were willing to see, when their gaze swept over her. Some shared looks, some quickly broke eye contact when her head swiveled towards them, but the treatment remained the same.
Never mind that her kind were the Lightweaver's first children, an amalgamation of bone, blood, and the mother's shed essence. Never mind her grandeur -- wide leathery wings able to shield them from the elements, her antlers dwarfing the small trees the hatchlings loved to play around, her glacier-colored eyes which spoke of three lifetimes of pain, of wisdom.
Emperor. They saw her, and they saw a monster.
She'd seen one before. Before settling with other dragons, when her life was a nomadic one. Gargantuan didn't even begin to describe what it looked like. It was a behemoth, an abomination that shouldn't have existed. It had four heads. Four. She heard the whispers.
'Two heads clawed their way out of a cave,' they said. 'And wherever they went, they uprooted clans, destroyed ancient temples and structures, and they dug. Where they dug, they fused again, and the number of heads grew.'
It had four heads when she first saw it. She flew fast and hard, with the other dragons who roared in terror and bellowed in ferocity as they saw what happened to those who were too slow. She flew, and then she hid.
The Emperor had six heads the next time she saw it. Again, she fled.
The final time they crossed paths, it had nine heads. Hurricanes clawed against the tough material of the Emperor's wings. Shadows seemed to grab ahold of its limbs, rendering it mostly immobile. A swarm of dragons swarmed around it, fire blazing, runes encircling and cries deafening. They were at war against a one-dragon army. Immediately, she dived towards the frontlines, setting up shields, building up breath and casting with all her might. The other dragons recoiled at the sight of her at first, their eyes spoke of suspicion. They were unsure what to think, but the battle quickly escalated and drew all of their attention.
There was an ever-existent pull on the battlefield. The Emperor screeched at her, its voice speaking of promises and death. She was an Imperial, and she knew only then what this creature once was. Against temptations, she reigned her instinct in and roared in challenge.
For a hundred days, they fought. The first head took them fifty days to subdue and destroy. Her wings were shredded, hide mauled, and Skydancers raced to save her life for fear of what might happen if she was lost. Her wounds stitched up, over and over until not an inch of skin was as smooth as it was before. Even the deities took action, and it was the Stormcatcher's barrage of lightning attacks that she was supported by, the blue lighting up the sky the same way it now reflected off her eyes. One by one, the Emperor's heads were extinguished. The war was long and hallow, and it ended after a hundred days. But in its wake, nothing remained the same.
She was no longer fearful.
So now the clan who took her in, she vowed, would always be protected.
'Emperor.'
Mercurial eyed her ex-clanmates with well-hidden disdain. That was all they saw, or were willing to see, when their gaze swept over her. Some shared looks, some quickly broke eye contact when her head swiveled towards them, but the treatment remained the same.
Never mind that her kind were the Lightweaver's first children, an amalgamation of bone, blood, and the mother's shed essence. Never mind her grandeur -- wide leathery wings able to shield them from the elements, her antlers dwarfing the small trees the hatchlings loved to play around, her glacier-colored eyes which spoke of three lifetimes of pain, of wisdom.
Emperor. They saw her, and they saw a monster.
She'd seen one before. Before settling with other dragons, when her life was a nomadic one. Gargantuan didn't even begin to describe what it looked like. It was a behemoth, an abomination that shouldn't have existed. It had four heads. Four. She heard the whispers.
'Two heads clawed their way out of a cave,' they said. 'And wherever they went, they uprooted clans, destroyed ancient temples and structures, and they dug. Where they dug, they fused again, and the number of heads grew.'
It had four heads when she first saw it. She flew fast and hard, with the other dragons who roared in terror and bellowed in ferocity as they saw what happened to those who were too slow. She flew, and then she hid.
The Emperor had six heads the next time she saw it. Again, she fled.
The final time they crossed paths, it had nine heads. Hurricanes clawed against the tough material of the Emperor's wings. Shadows seemed to grab ahold of its limbs, rendering it mostly immobile. A swarm of dragons swarmed around it, fire blazing, runes encircling and cries deafening. They were at war against a one-dragon army. Immediately, she dived towards the frontlines, setting up shields, building up breath and casting with all her might. The other dragons recoiled at the sight of her at first, their eyes spoke of suspicion. They were unsure what to think, but the battle quickly escalated and drew all of their attention.
There was an ever-existent pull on the battlefield. The Emperor screeched at her, its voice speaking of promises and death. She was an Imperial, and she knew only then what this creature once was. Against temptations, she reigned her instinct in and roared in challenge.
For a hundred days, they fought. The first head took them fifty days to subdue and destroy. Her wings were shredded, hide mauled, and Skydancers raced to save her life for fear of what might happen if she was lost. Her wounds stitched up, over and over until not an inch of skin was as smooth as it was before. Even the deities took action, and it was the Stormcatcher's barrage of lightning attacks that she was supported by, the blue lighting up the sky the same way it now reflected off her eyes. One by one, the Emperor's heads were extinguished. The war was long and hallow, and it ended after a hundred days. But in its wake, nothing remained the same.
She was no longer fearful.
So now the clan who took her in, she vowed, would always be protected.
DotA 2 Lore wrote:
Just as higher states of energy seek a lower level, the Spectre known as Mercurial is a being of intense and violent energy who finds herself irresistibly drawn to scenes of strife as they unfold in the physical world.
While her normal spectral state transcends sensory limitations, each time she takes on a physical manifestation, she is stricken by a loss of self—though not of purpose.
In the clash of combat, her identity shatters and reconfigures, and she begins to regain awareness. She grasps that she is Mercurial the Spectre—and that all of her Haunts are but shadows of the one true Spectre.
Focus comes in the struggle for survival; her true mind reasserts itself; until in the final moments of victory or defeat, she transcends matter and is restored once more to her eternal form.
While her normal spectral state transcends sensory limitations, each time she takes on a physical manifestation, she is stricken by a loss of self—though not of purpose.
In the clash of combat, her identity shatters and reconfigures, and she begins to regain awareness. She grasps that she is Mercurial the Spectre—and that all of her Haunts are but shadows of the one true Spectre.
Focus comes in the struggle for survival; her true mind reasserts itself; until in the final moments of victory or defeat, she transcends matter and is restored once more to her eternal form.
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Exalting Mercurial to the service of the Shadowbinder will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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