MisfitsLanding » Lair » Larkin

Larkin

(#31597644)

Level 25 Mirror

Familiar

Lowjaw Minmi

Energy: 47/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

5.46 m

Wingspan

4.2 m

Weight

629.68 kg

Genetics

Orca
Giraffe

Blood
Hex

Obsidian
Thylacine

Hatchday

Mar 17, 2017
(7 years)

Breed

Adult
Mirror

Eye Type

Plague
Rare

Level 25 Mirror

Max Level

STR

133

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

_____

LARKIN

| Scavenger |

STATISTICS:

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CON

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INT

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WIS

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INT

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It was not so strange that Larkin, a child of the Scarred Wasteland, was plagued with nightmares of fire. His earliest memories were of his time spent in The Ashfall Waste. As with many who shared his fate, it was whispered that he'd been bartered as a hatchling to wealthy merchants who then sold him to a labor cartel in The Black Sand Annex. His life had been traded for a slab of obsidian.

It was in the Annex that Larkin had learned to fear flame. The work was grueling for all who toiled in the lava banks but for a young plagueling such as he, it was unbearable. The heat made him weak. Sweat rolled off him in waves while blisters replaced boils. His hide was incapable of tolerating such temperatures and split under the sweltering heat. Still, the hiss and crack of the sentry's whip would drive him on even though the heat made him ill. Wounds would break open and bleed often, leaving deep scars that marred his hide.

Mirrors were a popular breed for this work and he worked beside many of his own kind. Unlike the unity seen in hunting parties, the starving Mirrors here fought each other for sustenance and were unrelenting in their brutality. It was here in this hell that he'd learned to be skittish around those who looked like him. Still, it was better to be a Mirror than a Skydancer in this clan. He had seen far too many perish after having their wings clipped or torn; a unique punishment that promised death for any dragon that was foolish enough to try to run.

His surprising escape had come quite at the hands of another Mirror. Unlike the others, Jasper was a quiet sort. But only a fool would have described him as meek. After hearing tales of his barbarity, new dragons looking to make a name for themselves often made the mistake of challenging him. Jasper was kind enough to kill them quickly and without any added flair. His ferocious nature was so renowned in the clan that the sentries kept their distance.

When Larkin first met Jasper, he'd been in the worker's infirmary and was fairly sure he was about to die. Having approached this precipice a number of times, Death was not something he feared but Larkin had hoped that Death would afford him the dignity his life had never been capable of giving. It appeared that in Death, just as in life, grace would not define him. He lay in a pool of blood and sick, unable to lift his head.

The Escape

____"Your blood is boiling,” Jasper’s words drifted from behind the curtain in a soft, conspiratorial voice. “The Plaguebringer’s infection runs deep in your veins, plagueling. Stay here much longer and the Flamcaller’s domain will cure the disease from your bloodstream and you will perish.”

____Larkin knew his words to be true, could feel the truth of them in his bones. His vision wobbled and then refocused as Jasper slipped into his view. Despite his hunger, the Inferno Possum Jasper tossed him made his stomach turn. He lifted his questioning gaze to the Mirror offering this rare gift. Jasper met his eyes with a fever Larkin did not feel.

Part One

____"I have been watching you. Your peers think you weak. They are waiting for the sentries to turn their backs and then you will truly perish; torn apart by your own kind.”

“Let them take me,” he rasped. The sickness in his bones fueled his apathy and Larkin realized he did not care to live anymore. Jasper’s eyes flared and he leapt forward, his lips pulled back to reveal his razor sharp teeth.

Two

____“I have never worked so hard to keep a dragon from death’s door, Larkin. Do not make me regret my choice.”

The words seemed so far away but when his meaning sunk in, Larkin’s eyes flew wide open. Shock clouded his expression.

Three

____“It's true. You think it a coincidence that you ended up here before the flame could take you? Or perhaps you think it good fortune and not my interventions that you’ve been sent to work when the sun is low in the sky and the lava is at its coolest? Other dragons have killed to work your shift and believe you me; they are waiting for the day the last of the Plaguebringer’s sickness seeps from your blood. Make no mistake; they will tear you limb from limb when you fall. And just as I have been watching, they too watch you.”

Four

____Larkin shivered. It had never occurred to him that he had been given preferential treatment. He knew the others kept a wide berth and whispered foul things behind his back but he’d assumed that was simply how dragons lived in this furnace. Ironically, the scarring heat left no place for familial warmth.

“Why?” It made no sense that Jasper would try to help him. He was hardly the strongest or even the most cunning.

“A promise sworn is a promise kept,” Jasper replied and then said no more. Larkin wanted to ask but the tension in Jasper’s expression stayed his tongue. Without another word, Jasper took his leave and Larkin was left to wonder at this strange exchange. He glanced at the rat in his bed and, his appetite returned, he scarfed the morsel down. It wasn’t much but it was more than he’d had in days.

The escape had not been simple. Jasper was forced to wait until Larkin was well enough to run and recovery came slowly to the plagueling. They couldn’t depend on a dark night in this region since the fiery sky of the Ashfall Waste had never seen true black. Instead they waited for the mist to steal over The Blacksand Annex, and when it did it was as thick as the smoke and ash that fell from the sky. The two Mirrors skulked through the Lava Pools, evading the guards as they guarded the eastern gates.

Jasper did his best to shield Larkin from the lava, even going so far as to carry him at times but the volcanic ash would continue to plague Larkin until they reached the Windswept Plateau. Larkin breathed deep as the pair crossed the border that separated the Zephyr Steppes from The Ashfall Waste. For the first time in his life he knew what if felt like to breathe something other than fire. He collapsed on the Steppes and allowed the soft wind to cool his aching hide. Jasper stood beside him, his intense eyes focused on what lay behind them. Larkin refused to look back.

The two continued to run and Larkin began to breathe easier with every region that they put between them and the Ashfall Waste. The farther north they fled, the stronger Larkin began to feel. They followed that feeling with rigor, moving at a pace Larkin had not realized he was capable of until they reached the Scarred Wasteland. He could feel the Plaugebringer in his bones and knew, for the first time, that he was home. For most, this land was considered harsh and unforgiving but it revitalized Larkin in a way that he could not explain. It was in the Wandering Contagion that he was brought to full health.

But as he grew stronger, Jasper grew weaker. As much as it pained him to admit, they could not stay in the Scarred Wasteland. Larkin would not abandon the dragon that had rescued him.
“If you refuse to abandon me, then we go north,” Jasper huffed. “To Dragonhome.”
Larkin smiled. It was close enough.
“North,” he agreed.

Bio template by Mibella, find it here.

Bust Courtesy of @Katryano

Bust Courtesy of @RJWolf

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