Beholder
(#32362271)
Tourists are forbidden on these lands.
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Energy: 0/50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
12.65 m
Wingspan
17.23 m
Weight
13411.81 kg
Genetics
Flint
Python
Python
Soil
Daub
Daub
Stone
Spines
Spines
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 15 Guardian
EXP: 296 / 60881
STR
25
AGI
6
DEF
17
QCK
30
INT
5
VIT
46
MND
6
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
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Biography
... You shouldn't be here.
Probably he will be the last vigilant whose incredible sense of insight will place a barrier between you and a travel across the territory of these warriors. He observes in the distance, he wanders across the Boneyard and northern frontiers, he hears and studies everyone in his path. He knows about things being said, things being done, and what has been done and said. He just observes, never intervening in other's lives, but with such small information he can sense something. He will let a lost traveler wander away into death, or will provide it with the needed haven. Or will calmly witness how trespassers are executed by orders of the elders. |
Heavy and moving slowly, the only trusted description someone can give of its ways is: extremely silent. Despite being a guardian, he goes unnoticed with ease even to elite trained warriors, an ability worth of envy even to the most shadowy and stealthy clans.
He is in charge of vigilance and protection of clan's members and territory, even during spare times is always watching over the only entrance to the clan's lair, unless he has a good reason for not doing so.
And these reasons are related to his care and training of familiars, and his mate Dhakira.
However, don't misunderstand him. What his charge is, is a complete mystery. But certainly, even if he is extremely protective of the clan and his mate, he will be the first to destroy even the most deep silence to say: To Take a Living Being as a Charge, is a Disgrace and a Shame for another Living Being, and a Humiliation and Imprisonment for the Creature being protected.
Coat of Arms by Friedphish #384470
Unending Night of Sadness.
Back in time, when he and his brothers were just becoming teens, they discovered a young and lonely Mirror, who apparently was unable to speak, always lying in a hidden room of the lair, under the care and protection of their mother Kwajah, who always tried to incentive her to lift her brown eyes. They knew this shy lady was somewhat adopted, and easily became some kind of forced playing mate for the teenagers. But after some time, the brothers started to play-fight for her heart, a naive idea, yet ideal, straightforward and swollen with unknown and experimental feelings, that didn't take too many months short of exposition to vanish as they grew and . However, Beholder never fell in that, and serious and silent as he had become, he just wanted to sincerely know her, share with her, and protect her. But over all, Hear her. But never got the chance to talk with her. No one ever has. One day Khoja and Mudarrib brought an Augite Protector familiar within the lair. There wasn't any policy about what to do with following familiars, but the silent guardian sniped it and started to bond with. After some time, the Cat was also a guardian, always watching over other members of the clan. But there was a day when the Augite Protector didn't came back from the most deep rooms of the lair, and after hours waiting for him, Beholder finally left his position to look for the golem cat. And he found it sitting next to the door of Dhakira's room, who wasn't been seen in days, maybe months, always forgotten. He called her mother and both force-opened the door, finding, in middle of foul smelling shadows and rotten cloths, a weakened and crying mirror. The cat immediately began to caress her, who cried louder. More like a sort of painful screams of rage. Why was she so furious? Why was she crying with that impotent desperation? Why did she jailed herself into that room... abandoning herself to rot, to hunger and thirst for so long? What was that kind of ghost-like disappearance... that kind of... suicide? But the Plague Mother didn't like it. The rot, the fulminating weakness, the sickness weren't taking over her, even if she was praying for. Her body was slowly destroying itself, but the rot still awaited, still merciful, still making deaf ears to her prayers of death... How long had it been... As his mother left them alone without saying a word, Beholder sat in front of the mirror, and waited, whispering things like "You are strong" "I'm here with you" "I'll help you" "Please tell me, I will and I care about you". Here both passed hours, days, weeks. Months. Crying, comforting, and crying again. No words, no gazes, just trembling tears. But slowly, she started to whisper to the cat. Oh, those long and sad stories, travels, suffering, perish of all those people... her own wounds, her memories, the memories on her blood, the feel of the sad and hurtful pasts of their clan and her own. Every single humiliation, hunger, fear, hate and repentance. Beholder just heard, for days, how the lady talked to the familiar, feeling her pain, all those memories and suffering that needed to be talked about. And he always whispered "I'm here, with you". Both were weakened, immersed in pain, but always calm, whispering to the cat. Day after day he remained sleepless, more sleepless than the sadness that wrenched over the mind of the mirror. He waked up her, offered her a cup of clear water. "Hi." He always greeted her, even if the only response he ever got was a furious gaze. Day after day he lifted her soft and light body, he sat her, he feed her even if she didn't eat a t all. Month after Month... he cared for what seemed like a stinky corpse, a fiend of unending sad stories. Day after day he gave her something to read... He read it to her. As years passed, he had started to tell his very own, secret tales, secret ideas, secret desires. Sometimes both seemed to smile, sometimes both fell silent, and the familiar purrs filled the air with a strangely comfortable calm. Dhakira fell in a obsession toward stories. She started to take the parchments in her own. Started to read. To whisper some ideas. To unconsciously eat and drink while reading. And started to talk about nightmares, as suddenly she found her void and black nights turned full of painful nightmares. But night after night, week after week, those nightmares were getting weaker, controllable, her own willpower twisting them, overcoming them, shredding them into pieces. She started to talk about how each of those nightmares turned into weird dreams, filled with fights, with pain, fear, and even more fights. One day Dhakira said to the familiar while caressing it: "You're a nice friend. Thanks for being with me". The mirror lifted her eyes, and then looked directly at the eyes of the guardian dragon, like trying to say something to him too, but she remained silent. Her eyes were dry. And she smiled defiantly. As if no pain or sadness, as big as it can be, could stop her now. With wounds still sensitive, still open, still full of rage and pain after so many years. But no more impotence. She grew tired of it, and she lifted her head and heart, sharpened her claws and jumped over life itself, to tear it apart. No more tears to be shed without a battle. Beholder found himself filled with joy, seeing how Dhakira was eating, reading, writing, walking, following him and then leading him to the training fields. Suddenly she seemed like a common, maybe too wise, laborious and silent mirror. She started to live again, taking again some objetives like if she never had lost years into depression. But the guardian kept vigilant distance, as the wounds in her mind and soul remain open, pulsing, painful and prone to bleed, but somewhat healing and adapting, to overcome life again. The black protector never left the side of Dhakira, and Beholder knew that she will never be able to truly talk to others. But also knows that she will always say to the cat whatever she wants to say to others. In a weird way, Dhakira talked constantly to herself and the familiar, strange murmurs of erratic thoughts. The Augite Protector always looked towards whoever she was trying to communicate with. As if the familiar had became her eyes, Defiant Brown Eyes. |
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Exalting Beholder 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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