Repaer
(#20190206)
Level 14 Nocturne
Memoryhead
Opposing Forces
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 46/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Earth.
Male Nocturne
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.11 m
Wingspan
7.52 m
Weight
653.28 kg
Genetics
Shadow
Bar
Bar
Red
Hypnotic
Hypnotic
Stonewash
Spines
Spines
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 14 Nocturne
EXP: 32230 / 54161
STR
43
AGI
25
DEF
25
QCK
28
INT
15
VIT
31
MND
22
Biography
It was an accident. It was supposed to be an accident.
Before Mesashift, before the Shifting Expanse, before the long nights spent wandering adrift on the winds, Repaer was a researcher. An Earth dragon by nature, he had decided to travel in search of knowledge, eventually finding himself on the doorstep of one of many Arcane observatories. He dedicated hour after hour, day after day, to the study of different beings in the world, and just how different they could be compared to the draconic viewpoint--the only one they knew.
He never could have prepared himself for what he found.
Outsiders stay wary of the Arcane lands. Some out of simple distrust, others because of the horrific rumors that circulate out of its scientific spaces--corruption, mutation, disfiguring comparable to things seen in the darkest depths of the Wyrmwound. Repaer had ignored these warnings, considering whatever he found within the Starfall Isle's many observatories well worth the risk. It would not be a decision he would get to make again.
It happened on a calm, summer day, the butterflies outside flitting about and the birds chirping without the static of radiation in their voices. Repaer had been doing tests on the observatory's many subjects--a fallen streak, a mith, even one of the researchers themselves. It had been going fine, if uninteresting, for a time. And then the lights went out.
Nobody was quite sure what happened that day. When the smoke cleared and the dust settled, what was left in the ashes was Repaer--shivering, horrific arcane wings growing out of his body, and chittering like an animal on the floor. When another researcher tried to reach out to him, he snarled and swiped like an animal. In a couple hours, Repaer was gone. They found traces of a struggle, of scales left behind while climbing through a window, and he was never seen again.
For the next couple weeks, at least.
On a routine trip to gather supplies in the desert, Calor ran into something concerning. A rail-thin, shaking Nocturne, stumbling around the desert sands aimlessly. She'd landed quickly and tried to speak to the dragon, watching as he struggled to respond, nearly choking on his own words.
Then, finally, after whispering a strained, desperate Help me, he collapsed onto the sands.
Recovery took a long, long time. Repaer could hardly speak straight for a month, and spent almost all of his time confined to Calor's examination room to ensure he wasn't hurt. Gradually, the dragons of the Mesashift clan began to learn the story--of an accident, of research gone wrong, of arcane entities making a home in your own head. But eventually, with enough care and gentle encouraging, Repaer began to return--however slightly--to his old self.
Of course, that begs the question of just how much of his old self even remains. The Repaer now would be absolutely unrecognizable to the Repaer of the past--always talking, understandable or not, collecting little scavenged trinkets with the organization skills of a Ridgeback, acting far friendlier than his originally refined, cold demeanor. But the dragons of Mesashift don't know any different. To them, Repaer has always been Repaer, the talkative yet shy yet odd Nocturne who came to them one day sick, but in time proved to be a cherished friend. Now, almost six years after his horrific accident, Repaer leads a somewhat normal life as the chief scavenger and researcher of Mesashift. The past has stopped haunting him. The voices in his head, ever whispering in his ears, have finally seemed to start to quiet.
When he wakes up at the edge of the lair, far away from where he originally curled up to sleep, Repaer can't help but worry otherwise.
Made by ScribblesKibbles!
Made by guzzoleen!
Made by CreatureSoup!
Personal hoard:
Before Mesashift, before the Shifting Expanse, before the long nights spent wandering adrift on the winds, Repaer was a researcher. An Earth dragon by nature, he had decided to travel in search of knowledge, eventually finding himself on the doorstep of one of many Arcane observatories. He dedicated hour after hour, day after day, to the study of different beings in the world, and just how different they could be compared to the draconic viewpoint--the only one they knew.
He never could have prepared himself for what he found.
Outsiders stay wary of the Arcane lands. Some out of simple distrust, others because of the horrific rumors that circulate out of its scientific spaces--corruption, mutation, disfiguring comparable to things seen in the darkest depths of the Wyrmwound. Repaer had ignored these warnings, considering whatever he found within the Starfall Isle's many observatories well worth the risk. It would not be a decision he would get to make again.
It happened on a calm, summer day, the butterflies outside flitting about and the birds chirping without the static of radiation in their voices. Repaer had been doing tests on the observatory's many subjects--a fallen streak, a mith, even one of the researchers themselves. It had been going fine, if uninteresting, for a time. And then the lights went out.
Nobody was quite sure what happened that day. When the smoke cleared and the dust settled, what was left in the ashes was Repaer--shivering, horrific arcane wings growing out of his body, and chittering like an animal on the floor. When another researcher tried to reach out to him, he snarled and swiped like an animal. In a couple hours, Repaer was gone. They found traces of a struggle, of scales left behind while climbing through a window, and he was never seen again.
For the next couple weeks, at least.
On a routine trip to gather supplies in the desert, Calor ran into something concerning. A rail-thin, shaking Nocturne, stumbling around the desert sands aimlessly. She'd landed quickly and tried to speak to the dragon, watching as he struggled to respond, nearly choking on his own words.
Then, finally, after whispering a strained, desperate Help me, he collapsed onto the sands.
Recovery took a long, long time. Repaer could hardly speak straight for a month, and spent almost all of his time confined to Calor's examination room to ensure he wasn't hurt. Gradually, the dragons of the Mesashift clan began to learn the story--of an accident, of research gone wrong, of arcane entities making a home in your own head. But eventually, with enough care and gentle encouraging, Repaer began to return--however slightly--to his old self.
Of course, that begs the question of just how much of his old self even remains. The Repaer now would be absolutely unrecognizable to the Repaer of the past--always talking, understandable or not, collecting little scavenged trinkets with the organization skills of a Ridgeback, acting far friendlier than his originally refined, cold demeanor. But the dragons of Mesashift don't know any different. To them, Repaer has always been Repaer, the talkative yet shy yet odd Nocturne who came to them one day sick, but in time proved to be a cherished friend. Now, almost six years after his horrific accident, Repaer leads a somewhat normal life as the chief scavenger and researcher of Mesashift. The past has stopped haunting him. The voices in his head, ever whispering in his ears, have finally seemed to start to quiet.
When he wakes up at the edge of the lair, far away from where he originally curled up to sleep, Repaer can't help but worry otherwise.
Made by ScribblesKibbles!
Made by guzzoleen!
Made by CreatureSoup!
Personal hoard:
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This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Repaer to the service of the Stormcatcher 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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