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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.12 m
Wingspan
5.47 m
Weight
388.75 kg
Genetics
Coal
Skink
Skink
Blood
Freckle
Freckle
Teal
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Mirror
Max Level
STR
115
AGI
11
DEF
11
QCK
70
INT
5
VIT
29
MND
5
Biography
BONEJACK
Lair Alpha | Hunter | Single-minded
Bonejack as a hatchling
Lair Alpha | Hunter | Single-minded
"A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun."-Yeats
A long, gaunt Mirror so named for his skeletal appearance.
A long, gaunt Mirror so named for his skeletal appearance.
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Mate
 
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10/14/16 He had fashioned his first nesting ground for her, having collected, placed, and readjusted the bones as delicately as he could muster. He thought he was being clever at catching her eye, artsy even, but truth be told the pair had been aware of each other for years now, being of similar age and having grown up in the Boneyard. It was only once aligning circumstances fell into place, and they both found themselves independent, grown and seeking to eke out their scar on the world that their paths crossed more fruitfully. Bonejack had always admired non-Mirrors that lived in the Scarred Wasteland, though being a young dragon, this reverence was mostly naive. He had yet to venture far from his parental nesting grounds. If he had, he might have come to realize that it takes all sorts to make up this world. Diversity is the key to life, and, not by mere happenstance, the key to any rousing pandemic.
10/15/16 The lesser clan was hardly but a week established when a powerful, swamp witch from the forest visited their territory and gifted them with many boons-- food and materials, treasure and gems. The elder dragon did not linger long, but Bonejack glimpsed the head of a lion and great black wings before she left in a flourish. Miraculously, in her wake, a Deadland Disciple of the Plaguebringer rose up from the scarred lands and chose his ground to take up residence. Bonejack, for the first time in his life, felt weak in the knees and elbows. Beings of the Wasteland were proud, and not without reason or backing, but this morning he felt so utterly fortunate. He poked through the pile of riches with a quiver. He had always felt inspired by Mother, but never so... touched. His humility quickly gave way to confidence. This was a sign, a sign he would surely match with grandeur. Upon the knee jerk of something intrinsic, with hardly the fire of two thoughts rubbing together, Bonejack forfeited a modest amount of treasure to Mother, an offering for more land. He hoarded the rest in his coffers. He and Carulata may have only had one egg in the nest, but thus was the nature of viruses, even when impossibly small, they were overwhelmingly ambitious. 10/20/16 With a keen instinct to grow in numbers, Bonejack and Carulata guarded the three hatchlings that had been gifted to their clan feverishly. HearseSong, Maro, and Hassil made up their fledgling family, and as the hatchlings grew into young dragons, they contributed greatly in carving out their clan's niche in the Wasteland. For a time, The Cell consisted of only these hodgepodge individuals and the roving dragon, Teagarden. In due time, however, other Plague dragons began to associate with the lesser clan. At first it was only nomads that shared in the hunt, partaking of the food before parting ways, but as Bonejack's territory unfurled, more and more of their passing guests became permanent residents. |
Notable Children
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Bonejack as a hatchling
10/24/16 The dragons of the Wasteland eradicated wave after wave of Beastclan. They acted as one sweeping sword, cutting down all to infringe upon their land. What their claws missed, the Rot would claim. What didn't die immediately succumbed to infection and endured a slow sapping of their vigor. To encourage progress, elder Plague clans sent meat and supplies to younger ones who eagerly lapped up their rewards and in turn accepted more dragons into the fold. Bonejack too was recipient of such awards and what began as a jumble of unrelated hatchlings had evolved into rank and file order of hunting parties, breeding pairs, and defenders of the nesting ground. Bonejack was proud, but only as far as one who had always predicted conquest. A virus does not dwell on success nor failure; there is only subsistence in its genes.
10/25/16 Not quite a month into Bonejack's leadership, a spot of Plague Rot appeared on his left wing. It looked as a dark colored scab and discolored an area about the size of a Mirror dragon's clenched fist. Rot was a contagious beast, and soon the infection had covered the entirety of his wings, staining them in blood blisters. Bonejack felt no weaker for it, however. This was the gift of Mother to her children, symbiosis with the virus. His body and so many other Plague denizens were merely vessels for which the Rot could germinate. The Rot, which kept intruders to the Scarred Wasteland at bay, made every fight with a Plague dragon a perilous undertaking indeed. Bonejack, naturally, accepted these marks as a blessing, proud to display and hatch the Wrath of the Plaguebringer. The only setback was that it made his wings a feel tad heavy, but Mirrors hardly flew much anyway, preferring the ground, and now, whenever Bonejack did take to the sky, he could know that a million tiny virions fell upon the land in his wake.
11/10/16 The Cell's one month anniversary had came and went in what seemed like mere moments and in that time had gone from two dragons to thirty. They now protected a slew of dedicated brood mothers and fathers among their ranks, parents whose offspring were to bring glory on the battlefield. Additionally, The Cell boasted a newly formed survey unit that scoured the Wasteland for information about their surroundings as well as networked with neighboring clans.
After one such journey, the survey dragons returned with exciting news of a prominent clan that they had met with to the south. Bonejack's son Maro seemed particularly impressed and prattled on and on about the strong impression he had gathered. Bonejack listened politely, though his mind meandered off; he was not one to follow a trail of words too enthusiastically, contemplating instead what to catch for dinner and the incubation of hatchlings rather than his son's praises. One word, however, finally did capture the alpha's attention, ripping him from his reverie: "Necromancer."
The Necromancer dragons were accomplished infectionists, considered to be aspects of the Plaguebringer's will personified. To have one serve in a Plague lair was recognized as a great honor and a sign of Her favor. Further, Maro stated that the leader of this clan would meet with him.
That evening after the hunt, he set out straight away with Teagarden and a few other Mirrors from the hunting party. They traveled through most of the night when finally Outfit Vactor's domain rolled into view at the edge of the horizon. The land, even at a distance appeared flattened, the high tendrils of the Wasteland abruptly dropped off for a distance that spanned the territory. This sort of phenomenon was characteristic of lands that had been worn down by unbroken activity.
With a fleeting glance at the sprawling land before him, Bonejack clambered up a sizable pile of rocks and curled up for a nap. He would wait until daylight hours to approach the clan as to not appear overtly furtive. Bonejack was not a brilliant dragon by any means, but his survivor's instinct was sound.
11/11/16 The next morning, Bonejack stuck a small bone chit into the brim of his crown. The larger clan's border patrol had gifted the chit, etched with a mosquito symbol, to The Cell's survey team, and from there, it was given to Bonejack. This voucher allowed the small group of Mirrors to pass into Outfit Vector territory without inciting the alarm of clan defense. As such, despite the vast bustle of Vector dragons, hardly one reacted any further to the strangers than a slight trading of eyes.
The meeting between The Cell's alpha and Outfit Vector's Khatun was characterized by a quiet, yet amicable exchange. Both Mirrors had been known in their home territories for their action rather than their conversation, after all, but curious onlookers would have gathered a mutual understanding amid the two Mirrors' interactions, particularly when Bonejack professed his ambition was fueled by Plague nationalism and a desire to grow his power for Mother's cause. When Bonejack brought up the Necromancers, however, Khatun Shiv politely yet abruptly concluded their talk, directing him to another dragon to indulge his curiosity.
Bonejack watched with head bowed as the commanding, warrior queen took her leave. There was a gap of time before the Necromancer would meet with him, and he and his hunting party passed the time by watching familiars. He had never seen so many familiars gathered in one location; from Bonefiend to Sparrowmouse, and many others that he could not name. He curiously observed their training and trading. It was quite the business venture. He had previously not envisioned much of a use for the Beastclan outside of conflict, food, and the occasional companion, but here every resident had a familiar and many more dragons traveled from a great distance to acquire one. He made a mental note of it, and of every other little detail for that matter, for a clan such as this-- he could only dream that one day he would command such a presence among the Wasteland--
"Your familiar is a Deadland Disciple. Your reputation as a budding vassal of the Plaguebringer proceeds you, Bonejack." At the unexpected voice, the lanky dragon turned with an intrinsic hiss yet nearly bit his tongue when he came face to snout with the very Necromancer he had been anticipating. There was only slight offense taken, as it was within a Mirror's nature to act upon impulse before cognition. They met eyes and all adrenaline abided. The iridescent female continued with a silky yet forceful train of speech.
"Come, let me show off my newest hatchlings. I imagine, as many, that is the meat of why you've come to us. If you surely feel you are justified to seek the Plaguebringer's glance, perhaps one of these children will grow to serve your clan." She halted slightly, turning to face the young alpha as they strolled, "That, however, is for you to merit." Her skull was encased in a decadent, reflective crown that erupted into a tangle of golden brambles.
There were three beige colored hatchlings that played near a bubbling hot springs. They poked their claws into the water and chased each other about the nesting grounds, though upon spotting Kishna and Bonejack, the trio obediently sat, eyes aimed in their direction. They were confident little creatures, not at all cautious as some hatchlings tended, their gaze, notably piercing.
"You like them?" The Necromancer slipped slyly, "Go on, how about I let you select one to go forth to the Wyrmwound. There is no such thing as too young to learn Mother's lessons." At her words the hatchlings' attention peaked, their eagerness chipping away at their stoic front. "From there, once grown, they will undertake a Necromancer's three trials. Go on, which of these germs will be the first to start their journey?" A sudden weight teased Bonejack's shoulders. He wished dearly to make the right choice, if a bit unsure of how to make such a determination, yet all fogginess ceased when he glimpsed one particular hatchling. The diminutive being was smaller than his siblings but had remained as still as a stone and held an unrelenting, unblinking stare. It looked as if he were suppressing a grin or a cackle. Bonejack must have looked on him visibly longer than the others for Kishna interceded.
"Hm, interesting. So be it," she quipped. "Now, Bonejack, listen to me and this is crucial--if one wished to court the services of a Necromancer, do you know what must be done?"
"Obedience to Mother above all else, territory, offerings."
"Yes, and an acceptable familiar, similar to yours," she gestured to the orange eyed acolyte that had situated itself at Bonejack's side. "Do you have these things? In your clan?"
"I will get them." He was no wordsmith, but when he spoke, it was with utmost veracity. "My next lair expansion will come soon. Nearly enough treasure. I will find another familiar. What must be done, consider it done--"
"It is not I that will need to consider anything, but this young one before you. He has developed a fascination with your ilk, and I imagine, if he returns from his trials, he may very well take up residence at The Cell, but for that to even be considered, certain prerequisites must be adhered to."
"A great requirement of energy is necessary to reap the highest of rewards. It will be done."
Kishna chuckled. "I can understand why Shiv was so tickled by your convictions. Here, consider this a gift, and I will not allow you to refuse it." She turned and whispered to a Mirror beside her who left, only to return with parcels of treasure. "For your next lair expansion. Mother is only as strong as our collective efforts. Now, before you leave, we at Outfit vector run one of the most successful familiar markets on Sornieth. Look no further for your offering for your potential Necromancer. In lieu of treasure (use that for furthering your territory) allow us to personally train your next nest of hatchlings; I understand you expressed an interest in such. Promise us your hatchlings, and we will turn them into warriors and exalt them to Mother."
"Glory to Mother." Bonejack bowed his head, closing the eyelids of his heat pits. It was a great sign of respect among Mirrors, for no position left them feeling so utterly vulnerable.
"Talk to Coydra. She will aid you in choosing an acceptable familiar. I will have my Necroservus escort you." She glanced at the Mirror beside her who, finished in gathering treasure, stood at attention.
11/13/16 The young pup Ichorclaw was escorted to Rotrock Rim that very evening by his father's Necroservus. There he would study the trials of others by the Wyrmwound, his future success hinging on his attention. After reaching adulthood, the Mirror would start his own meditation. A Necromancer's meditation was a perilous feat where trial goers would bear the Plaguebringer's diseased touch and learn to control every last antigen of the Wasteland.
If all went accordingly, in a month's time, Ichorclaw would return a full-fledged Necromancer, yet nothing was guaranteed, and it was a risk on Bonejack's part to stake such resource on a small, unproven creature; Ichorclaw was but a child, and whether or not he could even survive the journey to the infectious stronghold of the Wasteland was uncertain. Nonetheless, Bonejack had ordered preparations for Ichorclaw's grand entrance straightaway. In six days he would send off he and Carulata's own clutch of three to Outfit Vector, in trade for the Fungusbearing Phony that accompanied him home to The Cell, but a familiar was only the beginning. He instructed the survey team and even the hunting party to be on the lookout for worthy apparel, trinkets, and other goods that they could gather as a respectable offering. It was a great honor to have a Necromancer in one's clan, and that honor was nearly palpable. When Bonejack focused on a goal, he did so with a single minded focus, like a snake honed in on prey, little thought was spent on failure.
12/02/16 A sudden flurry of feathers and the delicate tune of an instrument drew Bonejack and The Cell's clan defense from their lairs. The black Mirror leaped out from behind tendrils of the Wasteland, looking as a dark skeleton. He approached the foreign Coatl. She had warm brown feathers and autumnal leaves swirling about her sleek stature. Bonejack was a bit taken aback.
"Greetings from the Earth Flight!" She began. "I hope you don't have a rotten Rockbreaker's!" At that, she plucked a basket from her pack filled to the brim with food.
Tentatively, Bonejack glanced back and forth between the intruder and the cornucopia of food that she had laid out before him. He shot a red stare over his shoulder, halting the hissing pack of Mirrors that has begun to circle at his back before returning his attention to the Coatl.
"Thank you. I think your flight appreciates... these rocks ...........thank you."
He fumbled about the lair for a moment before returning with a stash of pale, blue geodes. He slid a small handful towards the Coatl, glimpsing one last time at the feathered creature before dashing off from whence he came; in his wake, antsy Mirrors burst forth and ate their fill before allowing the more lumbering species of the clan to pick at their leavings.
03/19/18 Bonejack didn't attempt to understand why Ichorclaw had willed the dragons away from the lair. He entrusted fully that his new Necromancer's objectives and the Plaguebringer's were as one, and just as he fortold, before the Grand Rite of Rot was carried out, tens of dragons had abandoned their grounds.
"Either receive her blessing or get out," Ichorclaw had instructed. Perhaps it wasn't why Ichorclaw had wanted them out that mystified Bonejack, but that the young priest had known fully that they would leave. Bonejack had never envisioned a dragon unwilling to bear Mother's gifts. Having a Necromancer in the clan was a high honor, and he was perplexed as to just how many hadn't grasped that, hadn't wished to take part in the ceremony and stay beneath Her gaze.
It was as if Bonejack's meager thoughts had finally come full circle. Of course, and that is why they are gone-- they do not deserve Her blessings nor to carry out Her will.
Bonejack was continually quite impressed by Ichorclaw's insight. It truly was as if he was following a vision purer even than his own.
03/22/18 It was a few weeks ago that a pup born at The Cell was granted the right to pursue the Necromancer trials at the Wyrmwound. As part of his efforts to welcome home the young Mirror from her task, the alpha of The Cell had sought to expand upon his territory. What better way to aggrandize her zealously than with that of his own? If she were to make it back in triumph, she, like Ichorclaw, would personify the true essence of the Plaguebringer, possessing both a proficiency in disease as well as true insight into Her vision.
Though even if she were to have never returned, presumed dead or a Ghoul from her trials, the endeavors of The Cell would not have been forfeited. Energy in the Wasteland was hardly spent brooding. If she were never to return, the territory would still be venerable, the gifts, apparel, and decorum either used elsewhere or sold for treasure to clinch the unending pursuit of territory and dragons.
Whether the germ lived or died, the Plaguebringer had shown Bonejack Her grace, for when he came to her, brokering for more land, she pressed her heavy, clawed hand atop his head. His skin flayed and dripped from the bone leaving exposed his barren skull, and upon his back two more eyes and two more heat pits germinated alongside a set of misplaced, gnashing teeth. It was as if he had fallen into the Wyrmwound cauldron. What an honor! His mouth gaped in pleasure. Both of them. And he was granted his lair request with territory stretching from the edge of Starfall through Rotrock Rim.
10/25/16 Not quite a month into Bonejack's leadership, a spot of Plague Rot appeared on his left wing. It looked as a dark colored scab and discolored an area about the size of a Mirror dragon's clenched fist. Rot was a contagious beast, and soon the infection had covered the entirety of his wings, staining them in blood blisters. Bonejack felt no weaker for it, however. This was the gift of Mother to her children, symbiosis with the virus. His body and so many other Plague denizens were merely vessels for which the Rot could germinate. The Rot, which kept intruders to the Scarred Wasteland at bay, made every fight with a Plague dragon a perilous undertaking indeed. Bonejack, naturally, accepted these marks as a blessing, proud to display and hatch the Wrath of the Plaguebringer. The only setback was that it made his wings a feel tad heavy, but Mirrors hardly flew much anyway, preferring the ground, and now, whenever Bonejack did take to the sky, he could know that a million tiny virions fell upon the land in his wake.
11/10/16 The Cell's one month anniversary had came and went in what seemed like mere moments and in that time had gone from two dragons to thirty. They now protected a slew of dedicated brood mothers and fathers among their ranks, parents whose offspring were to bring glory on the battlefield. Additionally, The Cell boasted a newly formed survey unit that scoured the Wasteland for information about their surroundings as well as networked with neighboring clans.
After one such journey, the survey dragons returned with exciting news of a prominent clan that they had met with to the south. Bonejack's son Maro seemed particularly impressed and prattled on and on about the strong impression he had gathered. Bonejack listened politely, though his mind meandered off; he was not one to follow a trail of words too enthusiastically, contemplating instead what to catch for dinner and the incubation of hatchlings rather than his son's praises. One word, however, finally did capture the alpha's attention, ripping him from his reverie: "Necromancer."
The Necromancer dragons were accomplished infectionists, considered to be aspects of the Plaguebringer's will personified. To have one serve in a Plague lair was recognized as a great honor and a sign of Her favor. Further, Maro stated that the leader of this clan would meet with him.
That evening after the hunt, he set out straight away with Teagarden and a few other Mirrors from the hunting party. They traveled through most of the night when finally Outfit Vactor's domain rolled into view at the edge of the horizon. The land, even at a distance appeared flattened, the high tendrils of the Wasteland abruptly dropped off for a distance that spanned the territory. This sort of phenomenon was characteristic of lands that had been worn down by unbroken activity.
With a fleeting glance at the sprawling land before him, Bonejack clambered up a sizable pile of rocks and curled up for a nap. He would wait until daylight hours to approach the clan as to not appear overtly furtive. Bonejack was not a brilliant dragon by any means, but his survivor's instinct was sound.
11/11/16 The next morning, Bonejack stuck a small bone chit into the brim of his crown. The larger clan's border patrol had gifted the chit, etched with a mosquito symbol, to The Cell's survey team, and from there, it was given to Bonejack. This voucher allowed the small group of Mirrors to pass into Outfit Vector territory without inciting the alarm of clan defense. As such, despite the vast bustle of Vector dragons, hardly one reacted any further to the strangers than a slight trading of eyes.
The meeting between The Cell's alpha and Outfit Vector's Khatun was characterized by a quiet, yet amicable exchange. Both Mirrors had been known in their home territories for their action rather than their conversation, after all, but curious onlookers would have gathered a mutual understanding amid the two Mirrors' interactions, particularly when Bonejack professed his ambition was fueled by Plague nationalism and a desire to grow his power for Mother's cause. When Bonejack brought up the Necromancers, however, Khatun Shiv politely yet abruptly concluded their talk, directing him to another dragon to indulge his curiosity.
Bonejack watched with head bowed as the commanding, warrior queen took her leave. There was a gap of time before the Necromancer would meet with him, and he and his hunting party passed the time by watching familiars. He had never seen so many familiars gathered in one location; from Bonefiend to Sparrowmouse, and many others that he could not name. He curiously observed their training and trading. It was quite the business venture. He had previously not envisioned much of a use for the Beastclan outside of conflict, food, and the occasional companion, but here every resident had a familiar and many more dragons traveled from a great distance to acquire one. He made a mental note of it, and of every other little detail for that matter, for a clan such as this-- he could only dream that one day he would command such a presence among the Wasteland--
"Your familiar is a Deadland Disciple. Your reputation as a budding vassal of the Plaguebringer proceeds you, Bonejack." At the unexpected voice, the lanky dragon turned with an intrinsic hiss yet nearly bit his tongue when he came face to snout with the very Necromancer he had been anticipating. There was only slight offense taken, as it was within a Mirror's nature to act upon impulse before cognition. They met eyes and all adrenaline abided. The iridescent female continued with a silky yet forceful train of speech.
"Come, let me show off my newest hatchlings. I imagine, as many, that is the meat of why you've come to us. If you surely feel you are justified to seek the Plaguebringer's glance, perhaps one of these children will grow to serve your clan." She halted slightly, turning to face the young alpha as they strolled, "That, however, is for you to merit." Her skull was encased in a decadent, reflective crown that erupted into a tangle of golden brambles.
There were three beige colored hatchlings that played near a bubbling hot springs. They poked their claws into the water and chased each other about the nesting grounds, though upon spotting Kishna and Bonejack, the trio obediently sat, eyes aimed in their direction. They were confident little creatures, not at all cautious as some hatchlings tended, their gaze, notably piercing.
"You like them?" The Necromancer slipped slyly, "Go on, how about I let you select one to go forth to the Wyrmwound. There is no such thing as too young to learn Mother's lessons." At her words the hatchlings' attention peaked, their eagerness chipping away at their stoic front. "From there, once grown, they will undertake a Necromancer's three trials. Go on, which of these germs will be the first to start their journey?" A sudden weight teased Bonejack's shoulders. He wished dearly to make the right choice, if a bit unsure of how to make such a determination, yet all fogginess ceased when he glimpsed one particular hatchling. The diminutive being was smaller than his siblings but had remained as still as a stone and held an unrelenting, unblinking stare. It looked as if he were suppressing a grin or a cackle. Bonejack must have looked on him visibly longer than the others for Kishna interceded.
"Hm, interesting. So be it," she quipped. "Now, Bonejack, listen to me and this is crucial--if one wished to court the services of a Necromancer, do you know what must be done?"
"Obedience to Mother above all else, territory, offerings."
"Yes, and an acceptable familiar, similar to yours," she gestured to the orange eyed acolyte that had situated itself at Bonejack's side. "Do you have these things? In your clan?"
"I will get them." He was no wordsmith, but when he spoke, it was with utmost veracity. "My next lair expansion will come soon. Nearly enough treasure. I will find another familiar. What must be done, consider it done--"
"It is not I that will need to consider anything, but this young one before you. He has developed a fascination with your ilk, and I imagine, if he returns from his trials, he may very well take up residence at The Cell, but for that to even be considered, certain prerequisites must be adhered to."
"A great requirement of energy is necessary to reap the highest of rewards. It will be done."
Kishna chuckled. "I can understand why Shiv was so tickled by your convictions. Here, consider this a gift, and I will not allow you to refuse it." She turned and whispered to a Mirror beside her who left, only to return with parcels of treasure. "For your next lair expansion. Mother is only as strong as our collective efforts. Now, before you leave, we at Outfit vector run one of the most successful familiar markets on Sornieth. Look no further for your offering for your potential Necromancer. In lieu of treasure (use that for furthering your territory) allow us to personally train your next nest of hatchlings; I understand you expressed an interest in such. Promise us your hatchlings, and we will turn them into warriors and exalt them to Mother."
"Glory to Mother." Bonejack bowed his head, closing the eyelids of his heat pits. It was a great sign of respect among Mirrors, for no position left them feeling so utterly vulnerable.
"Talk to Coydra. She will aid you in choosing an acceptable familiar. I will have my Necroservus escort you." She glanced at the Mirror beside her who, finished in gathering treasure, stood at attention.
11/13/16 The young pup Ichorclaw was escorted to Rotrock Rim that very evening by his father's Necroservus. There he would study the trials of others by the Wyrmwound, his future success hinging on his attention. After reaching adulthood, the Mirror would start his own meditation. A Necromancer's meditation was a perilous feat where trial goers would bear the Plaguebringer's diseased touch and learn to control every last antigen of the Wasteland.
If all went accordingly, in a month's time, Ichorclaw would return a full-fledged Necromancer, yet nothing was guaranteed, and it was a risk on Bonejack's part to stake such resource on a small, unproven creature; Ichorclaw was but a child, and whether or not he could even survive the journey to the infectious stronghold of the Wasteland was uncertain. Nonetheless, Bonejack had ordered preparations for Ichorclaw's grand entrance straightaway. In six days he would send off he and Carulata's own clutch of three to Outfit Vector, in trade for the Fungusbearing Phony that accompanied him home to The Cell, but a familiar was only the beginning. He instructed the survey team and even the hunting party to be on the lookout for worthy apparel, trinkets, and other goods that they could gather as a respectable offering. It was a great honor to have a Necromancer in one's clan, and that honor was nearly palpable. When Bonejack focused on a goal, he did so with a single minded focus, like a snake honed in on prey, little thought was spent on failure.
12/02/16 A sudden flurry of feathers and the delicate tune of an instrument drew Bonejack and The Cell's clan defense from their lairs. The black Mirror leaped out from behind tendrils of the Wasteland, looking as a dark skeleton. He approached the foreign Coatl. She had warm brown feathers and autumnal leaves swirling about her sleek stature. Bonejack was a bit taken aback.
"Greetings from the Earth Flight!" She began. "I hope you don't have a rotten Rockbreaker's!" At that, she plucked a basket from her pack filled to the brim with food.
Tentatively, Bonejack glanced back and forth between the intruder and the cornucopia of food that she had laid out before him. He shot a red stare over his shoulder, halting the hissing pack of Mirrors that has begun to circle at his back before returning his attention to the Coatl.
"Thank you. I think your flight appreciates... these rocks ...........thank you."
He fumbled about the lair for a moment before returning with a stash of pale, blue geodes. He slid a small handful towards the Coatl, glimpsing one last time at the feathered creature before dashing off from whence he came; in his wake, antsy Mirrors burst forth and ate their fill before allowing the more lumbering species of the clan to pick at their leavings.
03/19/18 Bonejack didn't attempt to understand why Ichorclaw had willed the dragons away from the lair. He entrusted fully that his new Necromancer's objectives and the Plaguebringer's were as one, and just as he fortold, before the Grand Rite of Rot was carried out, tens of dragons had abandoned their grounds.
"Either receive her blessing or get out," Ichorclaw had instructed. Perhaps it wasn't why Ichorclaw had wanted them out that mystified Bonejack, but that the young priest had known fully that they would leave. Bonejack had never envisioned a dragon unwilling to bear Mother's gifts. Having a Necromancer in the clan was a high honor, and he was perplexed as to just how many hadn't grasped that, hadn't wished to take part in the ceremony and stay beneath Her gaze.
It was as if Bonejack's meager thoughts had finally come full circle. Of course, and that is why they are gone-- they do not deserve Her blessings nor to carry out Her will.
Bonejack was continually quite impressed by Ichorclaw's insight. It truly was as if he was following a vision purer even than his own.
03/22/18 It was a few weeks ago that a pup born at The Cell was granted the right to pursue the Necromancer trials at the Wyrmwound. As part of his efforts to welcome home the young Mirror from her task, the alpha of The Cell had sought to expand upon his territory. What better way to aggrandize her zealously than with that of his own? If she were to make it back in triumph, she, like Ichorclaw, would personify the true essence of the Plaguebringer, possessing both a proficiency in disease as well as true insight into Her vision.
Though even if she were to have never returned, presumed dead or a Ghoul from her trials, the endeavors of The Cell would not have been forfeited. Energy in the Wasteland was hardly spent brooding. If she were never to return, the territory would still be venerable, the gifts, apparel, and decorum either used elsewhere or sold for treasure to clinch the unending pursuit of territory and dragons.
Whether the germ lived or died, the Plaguebringer had shown Bonejack Her grace, for when he came to her, brokering for more land, she pressed her heavy, clawed hand atop his head. His skin flayed and dripped from the bone leaving exposed his barren skull, and upon his back two more eyes and two more heat pits germinated alongside a set of misplaced, gnashing teeth. It was as if he had fallen into the Wyrmwound cauldron. What an honor! His mouth gaped in pleasure. Both of them. And he was granted his lair request with territory stretching from the edge of Starfall through Rotrock Rim.
PLAGUE BANNER BY OSIEM #30450
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Exalting Bonejack to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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