Blademaw
(#26442368)
Guardian of Atlantis
Familiar
Agol
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Water.
Male Guardian
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
12.8 m
Wingspan
21.98 m
Weight
10736.86 kg
Genetics
Royal
Petals
Petals
Royal
Butterfly
Butterfly
Teal
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Guardian
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
8
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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BLADEMAW
Ghost | Calm | Quiet 
Guardian of Atlantis
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I. “What is that?”
The wide-eyed Pearlcatcher peered into the glass vase, his face blurry and smeared. Blademaw floated contentedly inside among fresh grass and water blossoms. Beside him, a second vase brimmed with blue roses. He leaned up to the surface and let the Caretaker gently scratch behind his ear. “My dearest companion, child.” “Is he magic, too?” The youth sniffed the vase and went to tap it. The Caretaker stayed his hand, and Blademaw swished his tail in gratitude. “I like to think so. But he’s one of the few things I haven’t enchanted around here.” “Do you think he understands us?” “I’m sure of it.” The Caretaker winked at the Loga and flung his blue-white cloak over his sturdy shoulders. He and his pupil would be going on a walk to discuss the lesson. Blademaw had listened more eagerly than usual, for the Caretaker had explained the history of Atlantis’ cores. Apparently the magical island wasn’t connected to any earth beneath the sea. Instead, it was held aloft, slightly above the waves, via magical cores made of concentrated willpower. There was even one in this very home. The Caretaker’s manor was a combined studio and flower shop. When he wasn’t selling his wares, he brought in small atlantean children to teach them the ways of magic. Blademaw looked at the tall, golden pillar opposite him. This Core hummed with energy and glowed an agreeable yellow, like a summer sun. Wasn’t any wonder that they’d chosen his Caretaker to guard one, either, thought he seemed to be getting older by the minute. He walked with a bit of a limp, and had perused a selection of canes the other day… Something caught his eye. A ribbon of dark purple was cutting into the yellow core. Had it been there before? Blademaw swam nearer and squinted. The line throbbed and grew larger, cutting into the bright yellow like a cold eclipse. As Blademaw watched, the pillar began to bulge, and melt. He looked up. The core also supported the roof of the manor. Before Blademaw could react, the core burst in a flare of dark energy. The roof began to slant; the house itself groaned. Water sloshed from his vase as the world tilted backwards. Sild purple-black wisps of smoke boiled through the room. Then there was a crash, and Blademaw’s world went black. II. Atlantis: home of magic and artificers. The elegant buildings were tall, lean, bordered by golden railings and decorated with blue-green glass. Blue roses bloomed everywhere—the perfect shade of sky-above-ocean, and the Caretaker’s magic secret. It was peaceful; temples stood open for the public, paying homage to peaceful gods. Lush gardens patterned the city, interspersed by white wishing fountains. But all that lies in ruins. Parts are still sinking toward their final destination, lost somewhere in a realm of relentless black. III. He was out of his vase for the first time in years. Before he could comprehend it, a dragon’s frozen, howling face drifted past. When he looked up, the sun was a wavy, smudged silver disc. Blademaw gaped up at it, then remembered: the Caretaker! He darted and swam through a slowly-falling city, under marble arches and over statuesque roofs. He searched desperately, looking for traces of a blue-white cloak. In those instants after the cores burst, there was no time to think about the ruination—only swim so fast that his scales began to burn. Then he spotted it: a tufted blue cloak fluttering beneath a great stone sculpture of the Tidelord. The great stone god was snarling at nothing now. The Caretaker’s body—surely, his body— Blademaw swam furiously around the cloak, tugging at it with his teeth. As he drew on the cloak and bit into it, his mind filled with a silver light. And in the light was the image of the Caretaker, smiling, in various bright images. Him as a youth, holding a bouquet of blue roses. Him roaring laughter that echoed around the manor. With the cloak, older still. Blademaw collapsed on the cloak, burying his face in it. It was like the silver light was filling his veins, flooding him on some deep level. He realized that this was the Caretaker’s final gift. Their two souls gently fused. He looked more calmly on the chaos. He felt terror, but it was lessened, for he wasn’t truly alone. IV. In its own way, Atlantis is still beautiful. Large parts of it have settled onto a sandy shelf in shallow waters. There are new gardens—the long streams of algae that glisten in the salt currents. The coral clinging to the broken statuary. The new temples, formed by the ruins of others, but just as timeless in the water. Two of the five cores have settled here, too, and sometimes they wink with power and potential. Blademaw digs tirelessly at the Caretaker’s body. The cloak came free some time ago, and he uses it to go onshore some miles away. But the land is empty, cold, bare, and rocky, and always he returns to the ruins. He dreams of the day he can take his Caretaker’s body to the dry coast. Looters and intruders beware. There is a spirit—sometimes a pale, azure-haired human, sometimes dragon, sometimes Loga—who walks the currents of Atlantis. His bouquet of blue flowers and his sword make his dedication to the memory of Atlantis clear: no one will harm these ruins.
Bio by Caelyn
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1. Him with minimal apparel
2. Him with his blue rose sword
3. Him with his blue rose cape which helps his soul stay energized as he travels far from the ruins of Atlantis
4. Him with blue roses to spread around the land as reminders of the lost memory of his home
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Exalting Blademaw to the service of the Flamecaller 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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