"Trust me, it's not contagious."

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[img]Item1[/img][img]Item2[/img][img]Item3[/img]

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When his lair of birth requested to test the Bogsneak gene on a willing dragon, he volunteered, becoming the first of the species within the clan at the price of a few health effects. A neighboring Plague clan would one day attack the lair, driving him to supply his own body as a shield in order to give the warriors time to gather mana. His clan was victorious but he succumbed to his injuries. As thanks for the heroic act, the most powerful sorcerers brought him back, though their potent magic mixed poorly with the damage the Plague dragons had done alongside his unique Bogsneak DNA, resulting in odd changes to his body. His skin began peeling away to reveal eyes and teeth that had sprouted from his flesh and he was declared as being cursed, with the clan he had defended so selflessly now fearing him; spreading rumours that the hideous curse was contagious and ultimately deciding to abandon him. He awakened one day in the empty cave of his once-bustling lair.
Though he has a new home now, he still deals with suspicious glances and whispers from lairmates. Fortunately, the few dragons that look past his circumstances have made him comfortable enough to feel welcome in this place. He receives clothing tailored around his affected areas of skin, as any contact with the surface causes agony. He's even willingly offered himself up for a few new Bogsneak and eye-related experiments by the lair's geneticist. Despite the bitterness he still holds in his heart to those who have betrayed him, he has far more trust to give. Maybe too much, all things considered.

DEITIES

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Roles:
* X * Part-time experimentee *

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