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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.02 m
Wingspan
7.16 m
Weight
588.8 kg
Genetics
Orchid
Iridescent
Iridescent
Peach
Shimmer
Shimmer
Flaxen
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
Forgeheart wishes you well on your tour, and turns, almost sadly, to the Mirror on the table. Following Chevalix, you exit the forge and enter the central chamber. It's a rather plain looking room, like the center of a wheel with spokes heading off in all directions. From deeper in the caverns, messenger birds fly and land in several rooms, only to dart back the way they came without their cargo a second later. Dragons are bustling about, crisscrossing the room, as busy as can be. The white Imperial smiles at you again, waving her tail excitedly and jostling her companion, a pink Guardian with a sword, to look at you.
Across from you seems to be some sort of medic's office, as a platinum Fae with mechanical hands delicately works a mortar and pestle. He notices Chevalix and acknowledges her with a nod before returning to his work. The two of you begin to head across towards him, but are nearly bowled over from a new, unexpected entrance of a large Pearlcatcher, followed by a heaving, sad looking grey Skydancer.
"Come on, we don't have all day!" the Pearlcatcher says, exasperated. His voice is noble and almost foppish, a sentiment shared with the expression on his face. "If I had known you would be so slow, I would have asked Quartz!"
"I really wish you would have," mutters the Skydancer between heavy breaths. His back is overburdened with large packs bulging with parchment, phials, and several extremely large tomes. "I'm not really built for this kind of thing."
The Pearlcatcher, carrying nothing, stares in affront. "Holcomb, the nerve! You were already on a delivery, were you not?"
"To Argent, yeah. I think it's right over there, actually." He gestures with a flick of his tail to a crate, with all it's contents spilled on the floor. It looks... much lighter than what he's currently carrying.
The Pearlcatcher pretends not to notice the abandoned delivery, instead continuing on his tirade. "And you couldn't spare a second, a minute perhaps, to help those with constitution weaker than your own?"
Holcomb, the Skydancer, shoves the pack off his back and onto the floor, where it lands with a mighty thud outside what you can assume is the Pearlcatcher's office. Chevalix is watching beside you, bemused but not concerned.
"Hey, look, buddy, I'm not super sure that's possible," Holcomb says with a chuckle. "I mean, look at me," he shakes a spindly leg. Even for a Skydancer, he's almost pathetically thin. "I'm not exactly the Windsinger's finest work, here. And I'm sure your arms are strong from all that -- writing? Is it writing you do in there? What is it?"
The Pearlcatcher gasps, about to issue an indignant retort, when Chevalix finally steps in.
"Sharos, leave off," she says, a bit of a chuckle in her voice. "There has to be someone better to pick on than Holcomb."
"Yeah! Like, uh," Holcomb trails off. "Like... um."
The Pearlcatcher, Sharos, finally seems to regard you. "Ah, a new face!" he exclaims, beaming brightly at you. "It's been too long. What are you here for, then? New wings, a new heart, obsidian-lined claws, glass teeth?"
He inspects you closely front nose to tail, gaze turned critical as he flexes one of your wings and tests your reflexes by attempting to stamp on your foot. "There's a bit to work on here," he mutters to himself. "Scales could be firmer -- have you been eating enough calcium?"
"Sharos," Chevalix floats onto your back, shoving Sharos' snout away from your wings. "They're fine! They're here for a tour, and a den, right?"
You nod, shuffling away from the nosy Pearlcatcher. Sharos reappraises you, before giving another flamboyant smile.
"Ah, forgive me! My name is Sharos, and I work with our resident tinkerer--"
"Artificier," Chevalix says, exasperated. She looks at you and rolls her eyes as Sharos continues on as though nothing was said.
"--to create the various prostheses you see around you! Bio-mechanical augmentation is my specialty!" he finishes proudly.
"What he means is that I create the prostheses and he enchants them. Keeps the body from rejecting them, keeps them from rusting or jamming once installed, that sort of thing. Argent's the doctor, I'm the craftsman, Sharos is the enchanter."
"Yes, yes, a wonderful system," Sharos says dismissively. "Now, if you'll follow me, I can show you where the real magic happens. Holcomb--"
Sharos turns to find the bags Holcomb had been carrying scattered helter-skelter on the floor. An inkwell, still somehow stoppered, rolls out of one of the bags and stops at his foot. The Skydancer is nowhere to be seen.
"And now's when we leave," Chevalix whispers to you. "Come on, this way. I think Argent's the only dragon Sharos is afraid to offend. I think we'll avoid the worst of him there."
The two of you rush to the Apothecary while behind you, Sharos begins to yell.
Across from you seems to be some sort of medic's office, as a platinum Fae with mechanical hands delicately works a mortar and pestle. He notices Chevalix and acknowledges her with a nod before returning to his work. The two of you begin to head across towards him, but are nearly bowled over from a new, unexpected entrance of a large Pearlcatcher, followed by a heaving, sad looking grey Skydancer.
"Come on, we don't have all day!" the Pearlcatcher says, exasperated. His voice is noble and almost foppish, a sentiment shared with the expression on his face. "If I had known you would be so slow, I would have asked Quartz!"
"I really wish you would have," mutters the Skydancer between heavy breaths. His back is overburdened with large packs bulging with parchment, phials, and several extremely large tomes. "I'm not really built for this kind of thing."
The Pearlcatcher, carrying nothing, stares in affront. "Holcomb, the nerve! You were already on a delivery, were you not?"
"To Argent, yeah. I think it's right over there, actually." He gestures with a flick of his tail to a crate, with all it's contents spilled on the floor. It looks... much lighter than what he's currently carrying.
The Pearlcatcher pretends not to notice the abandoned delivery, instead continuing on his tirade. "And you couldn't spare a second, a minute perhaps, to help those with constitution weaker than your own?"
Holcomb, the Skydancer, shoves the pack off his back and onto the floor, where it lands with a mighty thud outside what you can assume is the Pearlcatcher's office. Chevalix is watching beside you, bemused but not concerned.
"Hey, look, buddy, I'm not super sure that's possible," Holcomb says with a chuckle. "I mean, look at me," he shakes a spindly leg. Even for a Skydancer, he's almost pathetically thin. "I'm not exactly the Windsinger's finest work, here. And I'm sure your arms are strong from all that -- writing? Is it writing you do in there? What is it?"
The Pearlcatcher gasps, about to issue an indignant retort, when Chevalix finally steps in.
"Sharos, leave off," she says, a bit of a chuckle in her voice. "There has to be someone better to pick on than Holcomb."
"Yeah! Like, uh," Holcomb trails off. "Like... um."
The Pearlcatcher, Sharos, finally seems to regard you. "Ah, a new face!" he exclaims, beaming brightly at you. "It's been too long. What are you here for, then? New wings, a new heart, obsidian-lined claws, glass teeth?"
He inspects you closely front nose to tail, gaze turned critical as he flexes one of your wings and tests your reflexes by attempting to stamp on your foot. "There's a bit to work on here," he mutters to himself. "Scales could be firmer -- have you been eating enough calcium?"
"Sharos," Chevalix floats onto your back, shoving Sharos' snout away from your wings. "They're fine! They're here for a tour, and a den, right?"
You nod, shuffling away from the nosy Pearlcatcher. Sharos reappraises you, before giving another flamboyant smile.
"Ah, forgive me! My name is Sharos, and I work with our resident tinkerer--"
"Artificier," Chevalix says, exasperated. She looks at you and rolls her eyes as Sharos continues on as though nothing was said.
"--to create the various prostheses you see around you! Bio-mechanical augmentation is my specialty!" he finishes proudly.
"What he means is that I create the prostheses and he enchants them. Keeps the body from rejecting them, keeps them from rusting or jamming once installed, that sort of thing. Argent's the doctor, I'm the craftsman, Sharos is the enchanter."
"Yes, yes, a wonderful system," Sharos says dismissively. "Now, if you'll follow me, I can show you where the real magic happens. Holcomb--"
Sharos turns to find the bags Holcomb had been carrying scattered helter-skelter on the floor. An inkwell, still somehow stoppered, rolls out of one of the bags and stops at his foot. The Skydancer is nowhere to be seen.
"And now's when we leave," Chevalix whispers to you. "Come on, this way. I think Argent's the only dragon Sharos is afraid to offend. I think we'll avoid the worst of him there."
The two of you rush to the Apothecary while behind you, Sharos begins to yell.
HOARD |
RELATIONSHIPS |
DRAGONS APPEARING IN THIS STORY
LORE NOTES
LORE NOTES
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Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
Feed this dragon Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
Feed this dragon Plants.
Exalting Sharos 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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