Patches
(#30253754)
The Caring
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Energy: 0/50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
28.62 m
Wingspan
20.86 m
Weight
9391.65 kg
Genetics
Ice
Petals
Petals
Obsidian
Facet
Facet
Dust
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Imperial
Max Level
STR
117
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
70
INT
5
VIT
25
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
- Bloodtwig
- Tritium
- Relcia
- Mithala
- Paranon
- Faubon
- Pennsyl
- Token
- Jhairo
- Kiluaiah
- Thanatos
- Levina
- Sylth
- Unnamed
- Iron
- Siella
- Lokianos
- Luria
- Alanis
- Skuld
- Aiterra
- Ammet
- Realization
- Love
- Pastel
- Ella
- Praise
- Livion
- Kighle
- Blackice
- Thanolos
- Peiles
- Sale
- Minha
- Sylvia
- Fozien
- Ginjer
- Purpurite
- Moonlens
- Char
- Unnamed
- Ligatu
- Sveria
- Jace
- Maria
- Jorhe
- Borja
- Reealiss
- Dokiron
- Zinc
- Batya
- Unnamed
- Marty
- Urion
- Quartz
- CustardApple
- Facer
- Wreathe
- Selleck
- Heaven
- Aruse
- Istlin
- Ravel
- Selevus
- Nztos
- Abtine
- Plutonium
- Cinnabar
- Uraniium
- Neptunium
- Callic
- Nyom
- Igan
- Crescent
- Rauck
- Cres
- Stella
- Soken
- Derin
- Yites
- Kesta
- Jesut
- Qetor
- Nalsef
- Vertis
- Kesuko
- Ohnonatos
- Etrius
- Null
- Lys
- Angelica
- Pearl
- Seetro
- Egular
- Verde
- Sidni
- Unnamed
- Baritors
- Avior
- WATCHER
- Kalfu
- Asterope
- Slaye
- Issyt
- Vilucha
- Mouric
- Pyros
- Prustil
- Buckthorn
- Surewing
- Chiron
- Ashweather
- Gurkain
- Seirian
- Raputo
- Ahavah
- Geni
- Unnamed
- Moisin
- Maeve
- Minley
- Carlyassa
- Marlamin
- Minthe
- Verquent
- Smokewreath
- Eurys
- Panori
- Rammstein
- Haupuku
- Ivanova
- Xinsk
- Redmon
- Malon
- Ilka
- Goosefeather
- Alba
- Kisai
- Ihaka
- Vergel
- Ilden
- Gwarlen
- Sage
- Toril
- Barette
- Tomas
- Kaph
- Rawn
- Ropat
- Lumin
- Cowell
- Keen
- Kestrel
- Toby
- Clado
- Tiania
- Aramo
- Leper
- Bryony
- Tailtwist
- Windspar
- Gravelhide
Biography
Price: 5 gems
First dragon I ever bought. I was so excited to get an imperial, I waited the first 8 days until I had 5 gems from the energy bonus, and bought this kid. I love him.
Loves his mate, his best friend, and his kids. A true family man with love to spare
Honest
Watches his weight
Knows how to tell a creepy story
Not threatening
Sweet
I just realized that the Serthis Potionmaster's tooltip is a reference to Snape
SNAPE.
WHAT THE F@*#
Now I'm even happier that's the one I picked
Anyways, here's good ol' Val.
Sweet art by pheelthemoment!
___________________________________________________________________________________
First dragon I ever bought. I was so excited to get an imperial, I waited the first 8 days until I had 5 gems from the energy bonus, and bought this kid. I love him.
Loves his mate, his best friend, and his kids. A true family man with love to spare
Honest
Watches his weight
Knows how to tell a creepy story
Not threatening
Sweet
P A T C H E S
• Plague Ambassador • Giant Softie • |
Bio template by Mibella, find it here.
|
I just realized that the Serthis Potionmaster's tooltip is a reference to Snape
SNAPE.
WHAT THE F@*#
Now I'm even happier that's the one I picked
Anyways, here's good ol' Val.
Sweet art by pheelthemoment!
...
As Patches took a step into the crumbling, dark structures that were the Ghostlight Ruins, his nose wrinkled up. He resisted the urge to withdraw his whiskers, one of which he kept entwined with his mate's, the others he used to better analyze his surroundings, to see what his eyes couldn't.
"What is that smell?" He asked, curling his lip and squinting into the darkness.
"Is it the decay?" Winterkin answered, but quieted. Patches grinned slightly, recognizing her realization. Because he was a plague dragon, such things did not affect him.
"I think... it's the dust." Patches began, taking a look around. "The tatters, the metal..." He trailed off. He knew they were close. Winterkin watched him, lowering her head in respect. She knew what it reminded him of.
They continued through the rocks and debris. The only sounds that echoed through the structures were the thorns snapping, the dirt sifting beneath their feet. Occasionally the wind would pick up, howling softly through the cracks and circulating the dust about.
Suddenly, Patches stopped dead in his tracks, causing their whiskers to separate. Winterkin paused again, turning her head back towards him. His expression was blank, but she could sense his fear, and his hatred.
"We won't be here much longer." She assured him, smiling gently. Of course, she didn't know that. They might not even find what they came to retrieve. Not only were these ruins vast, but the beastclans may have taken it or destroyed it, knowing it was the property of a dragon. However, the scarf would likely be a source of noise, what with all the adornments attached to it.
Winterkin chuckled softly. "I shall have to lecture Paranon to keep better track of her things," She thought aloud, hoping to distract her mate. "She'll buy herself a new scarf if we don't locate it."
Patches sighed, telling himself to snap out of it. "No, we'll find it." He shook his head, unlocking his legs and moving forward. "It's important to her."
Winterkin nodded, and proceeded, with a hint of a smile on her face. Patches followed along, keeping his focus on her for encouragement. Taking a hold again of her whisker, he picked up his pace. The sooner they found the scarf, the sooner they'd be able to go home. Luckily, too, if any beastclans were present, they were hiding - their attacks had to be planned and calculated if they were to succeed. Winterkin, too, was an experienced warrior. Patches calmed himself with these thoughts.
Soon, they entered an area surrounded by surprisingly sturdy walls, considering the state of the rest of the place. There was no ceiling, but it was enclosed enough that if they were attacked, they wouldn't easily be able to escape. They were trapped, yet exposed.
"This looks like the area she described to me... What have I taught her? Why would she put herself in such a dangerous place?" Winterkin scolded, to no one in particular.
Patches peered up through the ceiling, at the sky. It was cloudy and dark, as if it were forever obscured by the smoke of Shadow magic. His ears twitched as the wind carried the faint sound of tiny bells ringing through the air. "Do you hear that?" He asked, pointing his ears toward the chimes.
"Yes!" Winterkin exclaimed, lifting her head. "Hopefully, that's it!" She stepped through an archway in the direction the sound came from, but then a swarm of Greybeak Reapers, Tatterwing Carcasses and Wendigos appeared, also responding to the chimes. They surrounded Winterkin's head on the other side of the archway, already slashing at her with their scythes and claws.
Patches jumped forward, glaring at the horde, but he couldn't reach them. Winterkin blocked the archway with her size, but she quickly pulled herself back in, keeping her underside covered. "Come on, that way! We need to reach an open space!" She pointed to the entrance they had come through, but Patches pushed her through first, turning back to face their attackers. "Patches! Don't fight them yourself!" She cried back to him, grabbing his leg and pulling him with her.
"I can take care of them!" Patches shouted emphatically, but Winterkin shushed him, fearing that they'd attract more monsters still. He resisted her pushing, wanting to protect her from harm. Soon they reached a clearing, and the monsters chased after them. With Patches still behind her, Winterkin stood up, facing them. She scratched and snapped at them, keeping her wings open so they couldn't reach Patches.
Patches could only watch, there was no space for him to join the fight. Even in this more open space, there was little room within the ruins. However, Patches was strong, but he had not been trained - Winterkin had. She had the advantage in this fight.
Thankfully the monsters were far outclassed; Winterkin understood the tactics she used, and she used them well. Still, they were strong, and managed to injure her somewhat. Once the Reapers were defeated, the remaining monsters fled, leaving Patches and Winterkin in the clearing. Winterkin stood, relaxing her wings, but she staggered on her wounded arm.
"Winterkin!" Patches gasped worriedly, regretting being unable to help during the fight. He rushed to her aid, standing against her and supporting her weight, when he looked forward and saw it. "There!" He gestured towards a post sticking out of one of the entrances to the structure they had previously been caught in. On the post was the scarf, hanging down like a flag, jingling with the currents. He left Winterkin for a second to grab it, and rushed back. Winterkin was recovering quickly, though - she had brought some of Tropic's potions, and they helped immensely once the battle was over. They weren't a replacement for long term recovery, but they'd certainly do for the trip home.
"All right, then..." Winterkin sighed, holding her head low as Patches draped a wing over her. He kept close to her body, lifting some of her weight again so she could walk more easily. "Let's go home, shall we?" Even after having been attacked, Winterkin was grinning. Patches glanced uncertainly at her, but of course agreed, thankful to once again be heading towards safety and out of this forsaken place.
As they traveled home, Winterkin chattered about how she was going to scold their daughter, practicing her lecture with Patches. She seemed very upbeat, even triumphant after the attack; but Patches' mind stayed back within those ruins.
He found himself hoping that someday, eventually, he could get revenge on those Talonok - both for his family, and now for his mate.
As Patches took a step into the crumbling, dark structures that were the Ghostlight Ruins, his nose wrinkled up. He resisted the urge to withdraw his whiskers, one of which he kept entwined with his mate's, the others he used to better analyze his surroundings, to see what his eyes couldn't.
"What is that smell?" He asked, curling his lip and squinting into the darkness.
"Is it the decay?" Winterkin answered, but quieted. Patches grinned slightly, recognizing her realization. Because he was a plague dragon, such things did not affect him.
"I think... it's the dust." Patches began, taking a look around. "The tatters, the metal..." He trailed off. He knew they were close. Winterkin watched him, lowering her head in respect. She knew what it reminded him of.
They continued through the rocks and debris. The only sounds that echoed through the structures were the thorns snapping, the dirt sifting beneath their feet. Occasionally the wind would pick up, howling softly through the cracks and circulating the dust about.
Suddenly, Patches stopped dead in his tracks, causing their whiskers to separate. Winterkin paused again, turning her head back towards him. His expression was blank, but she could sense his fear, and his hatred.
"We won't be here much longer." She assured him, smiling gently. Of course, she didn't know that. They might not even find what they came to retrieve. Not only were these ruins vast, but the beastclans may have taken it or destroyed it, knowing it was the property of a dragon. However, the scarf would likely be a source of noise, what with all the adornments attached to it.
Winterkin chuckled softly. "I shall have to lecture Paranon to keep better track of her things," She thought aloud, hoping to distract her mate. "She'll buy herself a new scarf if we don't locate it."
Patches sighed, telling himself to snap out of it. "No, we'll find it." He shook his head, unlocking his legs and moving forward. "It's important to her."
Winterkin nodded, and proceeded, with a hint of a smile on her face. Patches followed along, keeping his focus on her for encouragement. Taking a hold again of her whisker, he picked up his pace. The sooner they found the scarf, the sooner they'd be able to go home. Luckily, too, if any beastclans were present, they were hiding - their attacks had to be planned and calculated if they were to succeed. Winterkin, too, was an experienced warrior. Patches calmed himself with these thoughts.
Soon, they entered an area surrounded by surprisingly sturdy walls, considering the state of the rest of the place. There was no ceiling, but it was enclosed enough that if they were attacked, they wouldn't easily be able to escape. They were trapped, yet exposed.
"This looks like the area she described to me... What have I taught her? Why would she put herself in such a dangerous place?" Winterkin scolded, to no one in particular.
Patches peered up through the ceiling, at the sky. It was cloudy and dark, as if it were forever obscured by the smoke of Shadow magic. His ears twitched as the wind carried the faint sound of tiny bells ringing through the air. "Do you hear that?" He asked, pointing his ears toward the chimes.
"Yes!" Winterkin exclaimed, lifting her head. "Hopefully, that's it!" She stepped through an archway in the direction the sound came from, but then a swarm of Greybeak Reapers, Tatterwing Carcasses and Wendigos appeared, also responding to the chimes. They surrounded Winterkin's head on the other side of the archway, already slashing at her with their scythes and claws.
Patches jumped forward, glaring at the horde, but he couldn't reach them. Winterkin blocked the archway with her size, but she quickly pulled herself back in, keeping her underside covered. "Come on, that way! We need to reach an open space!" She pointed to the entrance they had come through, but Patches pushed her through first, turning back to face their attackers. "Patches! Don't fight them yourself!" She cried back to him, grabbing his leg and pulling him with her.
"I can take care of them!" Patches shouted emphatically, but Winterkin shushed him, fearing that they'd attract more monsters still. He resisted her pushing, wanting to protect her from harm. Soon they reached a clearing, and the monsters chased after them. With Patches still behind her, Winterkin stood up, facing them. She scratched and snapped at them, keeping her wings open so they couldn't reach Patches.
Patches could only watch, there was no space for him to join the fight. Even in this more open space, there was little room within the ruins. However, Patches was strong, but he had not been trained - Winterkin had. She had the advantage in this fight.
Thankfully the monsters were far outclassed; Winterkin understood the tactics she used, and she used them well. Still, they were strong, and managed to injure her somewhat. Once the Reapers were defeated, the remaining monsters fled, leaving Patches and Winterkin in the clearing. Winterkin stood, relaxing her wings, but she staggered on her wounded arm.
"Winterkin!" Patches gasped worriedly, regretting being unable to help during the fight. He rushed to her aid, standing against her and supporting her weight, when he looked forward and saw it. "There!" He gestured towards a post sticking out of one of the entrances to the structure they had previously been caught in. On the post was the scarf, hanging down like a flag, jingling with the currents. He left Winterkin for a second to grab it, and rushed back. Winterkin was recovering quickly, though - she had brought some of Tropic's potions, and they helped immensely once the battle was over. They weren't a replacement for long term recovery, but they'd certainly do for the trip home.
"All right, then..." Winterkin sighed, holding her head low as Patches draped a wing over her. He kept close to her body, lifting some of her weight again so she could walk more easily. "Let's go home, shall we?" Even after having been attacked, Winterkin was grinning. Patches glanced uncertainly at her, but of course agreed, thankful to once again be heading towards safety and out of this forsaken place.
As they traveled home, Winterkin chattered about how she was going to scold their daughter, practicing her lecture with Patches. She seemed very upbeat, even triumphant after the attack; but Patches' mind stayed back within those ruins.
He found himself hoping that someday, eventually, he could get revenge on those Talonok - both for his family, and now for his mate.
___________________________________________________________________________________
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Exalting Patches to the service of the Stormcatcher 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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