Shenkai
(#22630805)
"Fear is stupid, -so are regrets."
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Wind.
Male Coatl
This dragon is hibernating.
Expand the dragon details section.
Collapse the dragon details section.
Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.29 m
Wingspan
7.36 m
Weight
1020.41 kg
Genetics
Slate
Mosaic
Mosaic
Sunset
Spinner
Spinner
Yellow
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Coatl
Max Level
STR
7
AGI
8
DEF
6
QCK
8
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Lineage
Biography
|
|
|
|
MAD PIONEER
Gut feeling
All that glitters
xxxxxxxXXXXxxxxxxx 
|
|
While sponteneous and jolly like a Trick of light, his brisk gait carries the boldness of southern winds, vibrant with rich spice and silt. Shenkai is a proud and selfmade captain defined by his wits, creativity and persistent grasp, much like scribbled chalk on cracked, sunbleached slate. Many strangers are easily taken in by his infectuous enthusiasm, perceptive charm, and slightly mad love for his ship. Usually you can find this coatl in naval ports and airdocks, where he exercises his sharp wit to help others discover brighter perspectives, enjoy the simple things in the world and... To con them out of their cash. No one knows wether it's the taste of rum or gold that gifts him his smooth tongue, but although genuine, he rarely uses it to tell the plain truth. Nevertheless, Shenkai does have his own code of honor. This coatl does not kill, nor does he swindle those without means. While controversial, he respects things which are honest and good, and is able to find these qualities in objects as clearly as in individuals. However, the trickster is not as infallible as he seems. Not only does his argumentative independence and humorous controversy wear down his crewmates, he's also easily bored and distracted, causing him to ignore tedious tasks and heavy thoughts. This makes for increasingly difficult and exciting events: after all, avoidance of the knotting often means treading slippery rope. |
|
BORN VALUE
Treasure Hunt
Quick Silver
|
|
LOVES ATTENTION
Risky Stage
Future Jaunt
xxxxxxxXXXXxxxxxxx
|
|
Curiosity drove the fledgling to the outlaw town, but debt made him stay. Bright and enterprising, he ran errants with local streetlings. But just as he grew comfortable, he befriended a merchant. Aware of his intellect, the elder offered him apprenticeship during the coming spring, when snow would cease its hold on the bustling town. The offer was so surprising, that is confused the heart of Shenkai, who now teetered on the uncertain cusp of adulthood. Travel meant the loss of his world as it was. Would it be changed like his den, grow distant and faint in their time apart, such that he'd scarcely recognize it? The choice was lost when his friends incured the ire of a necromancer. Careless with the folly of youth, Shenkai fought him with valor. The futile endeaor struck him with infection and exiled him from the city he'd been hesitant to leave. The adolescent now embarked on a long journey through Sorneith in search for a cure, discovering himself and sharpening his wit with new things to love. It was such that the curse would become a blessing. In the years that followed, he would gain his own airship and become a skilled captain through trial and error. With his ailing appearance, he was shunned and eventually resorted to conmanship and piracy. This continued after healing. Shenkai became a proud outlaw, whose youth had given him skills to excel. After being recruited by Reef, he was made the head of her fifth fleet. He remains one of her trusted friends still. |
|
CRACK A JOKE
Lovely splash
Light enters
|
| XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx |
|
F A M I L I A R S
xxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx |
|
  
|
Shaking wakes you up from a floating slumber. For a moment you flap in confusion, convinced that you’re falling.
No. You curl, expecting the sharp jar of a hit, your wrists throbbing, raw from the re- There are no restraints. In fact, this isn’t where the slavers held you. A distant rumble. The barge rears and you catch yourself on worn wood, look for a window, then scramble into a run. Latches open with oiled ease as you sling yourself through doors, up the stairs, out onto the deck. Everyone knows a sinking ship will take those trapped inside her bowels. “Port! 3A! Keep position-” Someone zips around your stunned form. In a confused moment, you spin to pull their sleeve, but the following question is drowned out by the sharp roar of dying wood. Projectiles whistle through the air, sizzling magic before it all erupts in thunderous screeches. You brace and roll as the vessel tilts. Scrabbling for purchase, you slam into someone, who drops his load with a curse. “Here, to them.” A crate is pressed in your claws before you’re pointed towards the bow, where a handful of dragons holds off the barrage. You distinctly remember that this is the most dangerous area on the entire ship. “Potions!” You haul potions. Running the second half of the improptu relay soon reduces you to an exhausted jog. The spellfire is abating now, enough for you to observe your surroundings. All around the ship, a ragtag crew hustles. Nearby, the deck is splintered and a few hatchlings are applying some patch job maintenance, snapping at inattentive feet. This is an old and well-loved ship, with scale-polished railings, sanded boards and carefully filled holes in the wooden bowsprit, a remnant of outdated ramming tactics and hybrid sails. It is also a fast craft, slim, small and powered by thrumming mana instead of the wind. No wonder there are mages on the bow: This vessel is limber enough to avoid most projectiles from the side, so the protection must be centered on both ends to cover the booster ring. It's the amount that seems excessive. A rumble sounds ahead. Deep and ominous creaking before the wood under you reels, quaking on a sudden, blasting gale. For a breathless moment panic grips you as the crew calls out… They are cheering. The ship rights, then turns to circle in tandem with three similar vessels. Strong flyers come and go, bringing a row of prisoners aboard. They are checked over, frisked, chained and transferred to a lumbering craft below. Bemusement changes into anger and grief when you sight your former captor. It’s he who ended your friends, who was so set on you calling him ‘master’. Seeing his cuffs glint in the thin aether sun isn’t enough, not ever, and not to you. A quake ripples through you as you force down your fury. It is not your ship. This raging heart is your own to bear, grown so much heavier now that you’re tired and free. You turn instead, stalk towards the railing. Perhaps you ought to have remained down below. “Thank you, gentlemen, milady, my friend! You were a great help!” One of the mages has made his way across the deck with a content sort of cheer. An assortment of amber jewelry tinkles on his gait, breeze ruffling his plume and sending sunlight dappling over his smile. Despite everything, your mouth quirks. Wry and sour. It feels pointless, but you ask after the fate of their prisoners. “Those with a bounty are turned in, others are put to work, some may face our own justice. They have done you harm, so you have a say in it.” The coatl studies your face. Then he sighs, shifting to lean on the railing. “You... Are a captain. Can't be that stupid. See this? This hasn't changed." His hand flaps at the air as if brushing the dust off an old map. "Now... You might think so, but this hasn't either." He taps his heart, painted talons flickering. "Think about that-" “-Hoy!” The coatl pats your shoulder, before he bows down to the faeling messenger, tipping his hat as the youth fumbles with her scroll. “Thank you, lovely dear, shining sta- ouch!” He grins, aborting the head pat. The hatchling snarls, holding out her hand. For a moment you think it's demanding coin for a private delivery, or perhaps the quarterly fees are due today. Has summer past already? “My. Right darling, I won't look!" Instead, the coatl tugs a compact notepad out of his pouch and hands it over. You stare in confusion, then do a double take when you spot the winged compass on the cover. No born and bred messenger allows others hold their coordinate book, since it keeps the locations and courses of their clients. They cannot hand it over. In fact, there is a oath against such things, sworn in magic, in blood and faith. Which means... You check your pockets, hand skittering over the bloody rags. Empty. You should know they have been for weeks. Bright hot fury burns through you, clouds your cheek and sinks cold in your heart. "Oh, woe. So snappy. We-” Some of the mirth slides from his face as you shoulder past him. “Captain's oath." Doesn't he mean sailor's honor? You make way to the bridge, amused. This isn't your ship, but you mean no harm. "Kid, don't. If you lock your heart away,- you'll lose it forever.” Already halfway up the stairs, you turn. “What if it is our own follies that we fear.” It doesn't come out as a question. His steps are wide and uneven as he catches up, sky legs steady on the deck, twirling to a halt before you. Your frown at the faint smell of rum. “Well. Learn. Have some liquid dreams to forget.” He winks. A wide gesture that pulls crooked at faint scarring that you didn't notice before. Your face feels tight and it takes a moment before your realize it's half a grin, wholly genuine. The sunlit railing warms your back, has done so for a while. It is welcome and grounding when you've spend weeks drifting in the dark bowels of a slaver vessel. With a thump, their lookout lands, stomping to a halt two steps down the stairs. “Captain! There are reinforcements in the north!” He's... Reporting to your conversation partner. As the coatl draws himself up, you realize that this is not a mere mage: None of his jewelry has the tell-tale glow of mana, and his garb is rich, if worn and faded from travel. This dragon holds himself with the surety of a fellow commander. The Flaghoist is waved over, who blows her trumpet and immediately starts signalling. You make for your former position, but a scruffy hatchling pulls you over to a window for some water, pressing some tidbits-cleverly wrapped and flagrant-in your hands. “Keep the mad man alive, will ya?” You sigh. "Sure. Why not?" On a whim you pat them on their head, ruffling their feathers and earning yourself a scowl. It is cute and very satisfying. In this moment of quiet, you fix your eyes on the horizon, lingering on the captain himself. Something in the way he holds his looking glass is familiar to you. A melancholy, not because he doesn’t care to remember, but perhaps because he still cared too much. |
  
|
Art by twinsaii
Art by coffeecupid
Art by stargazing
WIP art by me!
Moodoard by me!
Artist unknown!
Islet wrote on 2022-03-06:
A flash of coins
taking flight:
a trick of light.
But know these glitters
are not gold,
but dancing embers
for winter nights.
Glass rum glints,
churns at your feet,
tugs you to the edge of seas.
Beckons, lulls to sleep,
dark. Not due till dusk,
yet stains the sky.
Hear the howls,
shriek of storm,
songs of danger, heed!
So don't drown in depths malign.
Change of charts.
He'll pull you up when stars align.
taking flight:
a trick of light.
But know these glitters
are not gold,
but dancing embers
for winter nights.
Glass rum glints,
churns at your feet,
tugs you to the edge of seas.
Beckons, lulls to sleep,
dark. Not due till dusk,
yet stains the sky.
Hear the howls,
shriek of storm,
songs of danger, heed!
So don't drown in depths malign.
Change of charts.
He'll pull you up when stars align.
All that glitters...
Bio template by Mibella, find it here.
Flower branches and color edit by me!
"Theme" music graphics made by Diamondsuits.
Flower branches and color edit by me!
"Theme" music graphics made by Diamondsuits.
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
Feed this dragon Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
You can share this dragon on the forums by either copying the browser URL manually, or using bbcode!
Exalting Shenkai to the service of the Arcanist will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
Do you wish to continue?
- Names must be longer than 2 characters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.