Marmite's dragon Glagol

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

3.69 m

Wingspan

6.91 m

Weight

857.39 kg

Genetics

Rust
Poison

Obsidian
Trail

Obsidian
Glimmer

Hatchday

Jul 02, 2016
(7 years)

Breed

Adult
Skydancer

Eye Type

Light
Common

Level 1 Skydancer

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Feros
Neith

Offspring

Biography

» G L A G O L «

angry | hungry | tired

━━━━━◇━━━━━

Ah, well, there they are. He can clearly hear their footsteps echoing in the hall leading towards his cell. They're much louder than he thinks they should be: and each footstep only gets louder. Like war drums, like the thunder, like the aching throbbing in his chest. He slids towards the corner, pressing his back onto the cold, mossy wall. They're in front of the door now, the footsteps faded to silence. He curls up in a ball, wishing that he could simply dissolve and vanish into the darkness. The key is clanking inside the rusty lock. With a pitiful wail, the door finally gives up and lets them in. Here they are. Light of their torches illuminates the tiny chamber, and their monstrous shadows finally surround him.

Time to face that unbearable fear once again. Again? Yes, he's pretty sure he already went throught this before. We already lived through this, remember? Really? Yeah. That's why everything seems so...off, right? The footsteps too loud, the vision too hazy...He counts his limbs. One, two, three, four... That doesn't seem right, he doesn't have four limbs anymore. It's a dream, now he knows for sure. So, he wakes up.

...And immediately regrets it. He lays there awake, stubbornly refusing to move, but the sun's rays just have to fall directly into his eyes. It's one of those days, he just wants to blow that damned space orb up. Grudgingly, he grumbles and slowly gets up, the pain in his stiff back reminding him that sleeping on an uncomfortable wooden bench wasn't the brightest idea he had. He swings his leg over the side, accidentally kicking something soft, sprawled on the floor, in a pile of bags. If he didn't know better, he could think that snoring thing was simply a heap of hairy garbage. Unfortunatelly, he knew better. That thing was his travelling companion. Or, better said, what was left of his traveling companion. Hangover, as usual.

i n v e n t o r y

╭━━━━━━━━◇━━━━━━━━╮

/////

╰━━━━━━━━◇━━━━━━━━╯

"Aleron." he can barely recognize his own hoarse voice, "Where the hell are we?"
No answer, of course. He should know by now that he's travelling partner won't reach anything resembling quasi-functionality till noon, at best. He sighs, stretches his back and carefully observes his surroundings. It seems they're on some sort of a desolated railway station. Nobody else is there, the silence is disrupted only by the breeze, gently tumbling fallen leaves and paper. Rails are overgrown in dry, yellow grass. He spots a sign on the wall and squints, but words are written in a foreign alphabet that he cannot recognize. The feeling in his chest is unrecognizible as well, something halfway beetwen panic and complete apathy. His thoughts are distorted...even more than usual. He is awake now, so why does everything still seems off. Where are they? And how did they even end here?

r e l a t i o n s h i p s

╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮

////////////////////

~~bff~~
random dumb*ss
new phone
who dis

honorary
best friend

lover
(sorta)
((sometimes))

boss
(pls go away)

╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯

code and art by nimrook

glagol

by CobaltCupcakes

by CloudsofTeeth

by Giu

by HauntedCrow

by Mothling

by Jetfeather

by Tarou

by M42

by Smalahove

by Kojiro

by perifinite

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Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.

Exalting Glagol to the service of the Earthshaker 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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