Dog
(#28661260)
The Prisoner
Familiar
Garden Gnome
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 31/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Nature.
Male Bogsneak
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.49 m
Wingspan
6.36 m
Weight
647.5 kg
Genetics
Blood
Iridescent
Iridescent
Mulberry
Shimmer
Shimmer
Antique
Smoke
Smoke
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Bogsneak
EXP: 307 / 5545
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
7
INT
6
VIT
7
MND
6
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
- Don
- Nohadon
- Undine
- Cynfor
- Aptorian
- Alano
- Escape
- Horkos
- Marbles
- Euron
- Uthril
- Maul
- Quoorin
- Heretic
- Mirfak
- Carina
- Arlo
- Rattle
- Anemoi
- Maela
- Voirrey
- Anios
- Maiele
- Iorath
- Phoenine
- Caiatra
- Heulyn
- Howl
- Areskynna
- Alwyn
- Duskfall
- Eliana
- Jodo
- Jutta
- Thansil
- Toren
- Atarata
- Cas
- Honour
- Svanda
- Haresk
- Dirge
- Saporito
- Riveros
- Zera
- Capri
- Win
- Gritz
- Teo
- Nisha
- Patch
- Kerwyn
- Senzo
- Lehine
- Autumn
- Struve
- Lynna
- Apira
- Silo
- Leto
- Aalish
- Var
- Moritz
- Bernie
- Brash
- Llewellyn
- Piccante
- Bharu
- Sholl
- Luce
- Rahal
- Demi
- Caryl
- Mykia
- Calli
- Vasyl
- Aboli
- Naoki
- Rayan
- Eike
- Gallen
- Mallory
- Dilys
- Leofrick
- Powell
- Yachne
- Buttons
- Hati
- Crovil
- Rowan
- Lisle
- Pilot
- Rochel
- Xol
- Natalie
- Coyote
- Lufa
- Havoc
- Yuu
- Aubin
- Dasia
- Kaja
- Tea
- Skip
- Deera
- Lavinia
- Kirave
- Ethir
Biography
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♕ D O G The Prisoner ╰ ╭  ╰ 
SLUDGE
╰
AZHI
╰
DINGO
╰
MAL
╰╭ 
IPHIS
╰
SCUNNER
╰
KNUX
╰╭ 
FAWN
╰╭ 
Pompous | Gallant | Impulsive ╰ bio template by squidragon adapted by Katalist
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Son of Atraisa - First bogsneak in the line
Grandson of Modremoth - Leader of the Tribe Nephew of Berry Related to Rae Named ""Dog"" by GuildWars Two Map chat
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""Don't look at me. LEAVE.""
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He sits silently in an estranged corner, despondent and downtrodden. The bogsneak doesn't turn to you-- or even acknowledge your presence. His tattered wings flex slightly, stretching out to obscure his face entirely from view. ""I presume you've come for Knux."" Dog grunts, his words a morose rumble. He skulks further into the corner's benevolent embrace-- as if desperate to shield himself from your prying eyes. ""He's not here. Leave"" The bogsneak's wings flare with irritation. He lets out a frustrated screech, the bloodied, smooth surface of his face momentarily visible amongst the curtains of his own wings. The clanking of chains is unmistakable; he's evidently being held against his will. ""Don't look at me. LEAVE.""
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Living at the very top of the Tree meant Modremoth gained quite some speed when he plummeted. He enjoyed the rush, most days. Today though, he was not focusing on that. Swiftly darting around branches thicker than a coiled imperial, he descended, only pulling up when he reached the enormous library. Diving in through a massive window, he could see the chaos from one of the upper levels. Dragons swarmed in a massive pile, shooting arcane magic and snapping with jaws and wings. Simbi, the librarian, sat with her wings outstretched, trying to contain the battle to the upper balcony, lest her books were ruined. Her wings already bore the brunt of a few waylaid bolts, and she was growing desperate. Another imperial, Celeste, had been drawn from another study area in the library, and was the source of the arcane magic popping and fizzling in the air. Frisk was there, pressing a hand to her ribs as she swung about with her staff in her other hand. A pearlcatcher and mirror was helping Frisk, the pearlcatcher showing practiced moves with his own bo staff while the mirror bit like a rabid dog. Azhi and Impkith, a newer pair, were indeed proving their worth. The object of attacks, a dark red bogsneak, was proving to be a fair match. He grinned with murderous intent, licking his teeth clean of the blood he had drawn from the other dragons. As Modremoth strode towards the scene, Frisk threw another chain over the bogsneak, which Impkith caught and pulled. The chain snapped tight over the bogsneak’s head, stunning him for a brief second. Frisk dove in and clapped handcuffs over a swollen wrist. Modremoth could see the rusted remains of previous cuffs on the bogsneak, before he moved to block Modremoth’s view. By the time Modremoth had walked up to the stricken dragon, he was completely chained up, head pinned to the floor by Azhi’s staff. Tail lashing, the bogsneak grinned up at Modremoth, smile growing unnaturally wide. “Hello, Grandfather.” Modremoth showed no change in expression. Assassins, while strongly discouraged, were a common issue within the Tribe. A bogsneak however, was a strange assassin. The filthy breed were not known to be capable of much. Modremoth had hated them from the start, when a mutated egg was found in the Swamp. For one to call itself a grandchild of his…. Was a new one for him. “A good fight, for one so inept. Frisk, see to it that Knux takes better care of his prisoners. I’d hate for another one to dare escape from their cells again.” Modremoth shifted, preparing to launch himself from the balcony, and the bogsneak struggled harder. “Look at me! Look at your children! How dare you look at the face of your brethren and turn away!” Modremoth stopped, wings raised. He glittered in the dull light, but his benevolent face held only cool disgust for the beast. “Which one of my children did you spawn from?” “My MOTHER was a beautiful dragon, before she was used in another dragon’s experiments. She didn’t survive but I did. I came here to find family, but all I find is a coward!” The bogsneak spat at the feet of the skydancer, before Azhi’s staff dug into his head. A groan of pain resulted. “Your mother’s name?” “Atraisa!” Modremoth drew back, a sad look on his face. “A beautiful daughter, I remember her. Pity she went so soon.” His face hardened, looking at the bogsneak again. “Child, your mother died when she was turned into whatever you are now,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Her body just gave in afterwards. A Skydancer would never be trapped in the form of a bogsneak. You’re a disgrace, sad that it may be. Your mother had such potential.” “So you’re just going to leave without knowing my name?” The skydancer stood over the bogsneak, silent. “Your name does not matter anymore. We’re family, as you so said. And here, we treat family quite differently. We’ll give you a new name, and a home just for you. Food every afternoon, free of charge.” The skydancer chuckled, the light peals of laughter a strong contradiction to the future Modremoth was painting. “If you’re nice, you may even have a few visitors. I know a few people.” Modremoth smiled, causing the bogsneak to falter, before turning to Frisk. The nocturne snapped to attention under the skydancer’s gaze. “Frisk, please take our new guest to his new place. I’m sure Knux may have something just right for him. Tell Knux he’s family, so he’ll be staying a while.” “Yessir. What should I call this one?” Modremoth peered over his shoulder, watching Azhi skilfully force a muzzle over the bogsneak’s face as he growled and spat. The vision seemed familiar, not unlike Impkith after a day of hunting. Watching Impkith wag her tail, Modremoth hesitated, then turned back. “I think ‘Dog’ is quite fitting.”
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ETYMOLOGY - INFORMAL•AUSTRALIAN/NZ an informer or traitor. INFORMAL•NORTH AMERICAN a thing of poor quality. INFORMAL an unpleasant, contemptible, or wicked man RELATIONS -
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This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
Meat stocks are currently depleted.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
Plant stocks are currently depleted.
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Exalting Dog to the service of the Gladekeeper 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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