Lux
(#39862231)
Level 6 Wildclaw
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Female Wildclaw
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.41 m
Wingspan
6.49 m
Weight
685.89 kg
Genetics
Lavender
Iridescent
Iridescent
Bubblegum
Shimmer
Shimmer
Sky
Lace
Lace
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 6 Wildclaw
EXP: 7309 / 8380
STR
8
AGI
9
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
Lux was a jeweler. Sure, she was also a thief, a con artist and, when it suited her, a hired knife or bodyguard, but at heart she had always been a jeweler.
She reminded herself of this as she crouched over her delicate set of magnifying lenses in the dim back room of Alwell’s shop. Alwell’s had no name, but any dragon of a sufficiently unsavoury nature could find it. The lair’s nicest shops and common areas were all clustered around the Heart Tree’s main cavern, with wide archways of worked stone and carved wood that invited guests and clanmates alike to come in and browse. These businesses were lit with the warm glow of oil lamps and select varieties of carefully cultivated fungi even here, deep in the Shadowbinder’s usually lightless realm.
The farther one travelled from the main cavern, the seedier the shops and taverns became. Most of the lair’s residential corridors lead up through the trunk of the massive tree, where dens did not leak water from sodden walls of rotted plants and moist humidity replaced subterranean chill. But there were tunnels leading downwards as well, tunnels with walls of black earth and floors pooled with even blacker water. These tunnels wove between unstable earth, storerooms, and any number of disreputable establishments before looping back on each other or coming to dead ends around hairpin bends.
It was a place an unsuspecting dragon could easily become lost. If you know where to look, however, you could find a nameless corridor that ran beside a long-buried outcropping of grey-black bedrock for several dozen yards before plunging back into damp clay and its eventual unceremonious dead end. Glowing mushrooms of a strange, reddish hue grew thickly on the rock, as if glad of something solid to cling to. What was truly remarkable about the stone, however, was the jagged crack that split the visible section from top to bottom.
This crack had no glowing fungi lining its walls. Lux knew this was deliberate—every dragon who had business down here, herself included, was careful to scrape away any growths that might hint at just how deep the crack ran. After several hundred yards of switchbacks and jagged gaps that were almost to narrow for a Ridgeback or Guardian, let alone most Imperials, the dark crack widened abruptly into a poorly illuminated fissure in the rock that most dragons called Breakrock Alley.
The Alley was, to Lux’s knowledge, the only passage in the lair that was completely within the bedrock of the Tangled Wood. Not that it was truly a part of the Heart Tree and its tunnels—most dragons who frequented the Alley considered the lair above to be nothing more than the most convenient doorway to their place of business. This was not to say that there weren’t other entrances to the Alley. Secret ways through rock and earth that were open to dragons from other lairs who, for any number of reasons, didn’t want to be seen entering the Heart Tree. Pawnbrokers, loan sharks, and taverns of all descriptions lined the Alley’s walls in caves that had been chiselled directly from the stone, jammed cheek-by-jowl with establishments of even more unsavory natures. Unlike the market surrounding the main cavern above, these rooms had rough wooden doors propped open with lumps of stone or, more commonly, shut tight as if to hide whatever was inside. Here there were no carved signs or inviting displays to lure in customers. If a dragon came to the Alley, it was not to browse through shops.
Lux shifted on the wooden crate she was using as a seat, carefully examining the silver brooch beneath her lenses. It was masterful work, set with a flawless moonstone and surrounded by intricate metalwork, but years of neglect had blackened the metal and loosened the gem in its setting. Alwell had swindled the brooch and a number of other pieces off an elderly Snapper earlier in the week— that was to say, Lux had struck a favourable deal with the unwary matron and Alwell had paid for it—and he was getting impatient about having the merchandise restored for resale.
Lux sighed. Flipping jewelry was profitable work but sear it, it was boring. She rubbed another tiny dab of polish into the metal, then threw it back onto the table and stalked into the front room.
The musty red curtain that separated the shop’s two rooms billowed dramatically around her as she threw it aside. “I’m going out,” she announced to Alwell, who was hunched over his ledgers at the counter. Did the searing Snapper never stop counting pennies?
“No,” he grunted, not looking up. “You’re going to go to go back in there and finish cleaning that jewelry. I don’t pay you so you can spend your days traipsing around the market.”
Lux shook her crest in annoyance but otherwise ignored him. Shrewd businessman or not, Alwell did not understand the nature of their relationship. She didn’t work for him. She merely graced him with her talents when it suited her.
Lux danced toward the door, stopping only to admire herself in a dusty mirror that leaned against one wall. Yes, those new pink anklets did suit her. They were her own design, of course. A near-perfect imitation of some of the season’s most fashionable apparel, but with finer workmanship and clearer gems than anything found on the public market.
Noticing Alwell scowling at her she twirled once, letting the dim light of his lamp flicker over her shimmering scales and jewelry. Then she danced out of the shop, resisting the urge to aggravate the sturdy Snapper further.
Lux let the shop’s wooden door swing shut behind her, then almost tripped over an armoured blue-green tail draped across the doorstep.
“Do you ever do anything?” she snapped at Savion, turning to glare at the hulking Guardian that Alwell kept to guard his business. Something to do with the larger dragon’s charge, she thought.
Savion groaned and shoved his head further under one wing. The normally glistening skin was dull and sweaty, and as he moved Lux caught the acrid scent of drinks made from plants better left alone.
Shadowbinder’s eyes, not again. “Savion?” she said, laying a forepaw on his shoulder. “How late were you out last night?”
He raised his head, revealing bleary purple eyes and beard so matted she itched to just cut it off. Not that he would let her, of course. Guardians were strange that way.
“Too late,” he mumbled, trying and failing to focus on her face. “G’way. I’m working.”
Lux’s annoyance dissipated as she realized just how sick the Guardian was. He had been becoming more and more despondent for months, but she hadn’t known it was this bad. Sear it, maybe she should try to find out more about his charge. Guardians sometimes went funny when they felt they weren’t performing their duties.
Lux wasn’t sure how much she could do for the larger dragon right now, but she located a wide bucket outside a neighboring business’s door and, after making sure no one had noticed her take it, filled it from the deep well at the end of the Alley. That well and the fresh, if slightly sour, water it provided were the only reason the Alley could thrive as it did. It would be a lot harder to hide an illicit market if everyone who worked there had to haul water down on a daily basis.
Lux suspected the bucket was meant for wash water, but it would have to do. She rinsed it out as best she could, then emptied the first bucket over Savion’s head. This earned her a string of curses that she was surprised he could manage, given his state, but it seemed to clear his head. After that she fetched another bucket, which she left beside his head. Savion glared at her balefully and made no move to drink the water, but she knew he would. Sear it, but he had to be thirsty.
Feeling that she had done all she could, Lux made her way out of the Alley and into the Heart Tree proper. Savion slipped from her mind as she walked. There was just so much to see and experience. Her claws itched as she noticed a thick purse hanging at a Ridgeback’s hip, but she restrained herself. She made a point of not causing too much trouble in her own lair.
Lux moved easily through the main cavern. She stopped to talk to a few dragons she recognized, then ducked into Silail’s Gem Garden. She didn’t think too much of the well-to-do Nocturne and his carefully curated tables of miniature waterfalls and carved mannequins, but he did have some interesting pieces sometimes.
Lux started to peruse a collection of particularly fine rings, then froze. Leaning casually on the counter, much to Silail’s obvious distaste, was a rugged brown Coatl decked out in leather and well-worn pouches.
“Treveborn!” She squealed, shooting across the wide room. Silail huffed in annoyance as she ploughed into Coatl, sweeping him into a tight embrace. He laughed and hugged her back, the hard lumps of his full pouches digging into her.
Lux laughed, then held the brown dragon out at arm’s length. “You look half starved. C’mon, I’ll get you something to eat.” Treveborn didn’t complain as she dragged him from the shop and toward the comfortable glow of the Hole in the Stone, the clan’s most popular pub. The wandering gem merchant smelled of road dust and memories, and despite what she had said he didn’t seem any the worse for the wear. And, even if it was just for a few days, he was home.
She reminded herself of this as she crouched over her delicate set of magnifying lenses in the dim back room of Alwell’s shop. Alwell’s had no name, but any dragon of a sufficiently unsavoury nature could find it. The lair’s nicest shops and common areas were all clustered around the Heart Tree’s main cavern, with wide archways of worked stone and carved wood that invited guests and clanmates alike to come in and browse. These businesses were lit with the warm glow of oil lamps and select varieties of carefully cultivated fungi even here, deep in the Shadowbinder’s usually lightless realm.
The farther one travelled from the main cavern, the seedier the shops and taverns became. Most of the lair’s residential corridors lead up through the trunk of the massive tree, where dens did not leak water from sodden walls of rotted plants and moist humidity replaced subterranean chill. But there were tunnels leading downwards as well, tunnels with walls of black earth and floors pooled with even blacker water. These tunnels wove between unstable earth, storerooms, and any number of disreputable establishments before looping back on each other or coming to dead ends around hairpin bends.
It was a place an unsuspecting dragon could easily become lost. If you know where to look, however, you could find a nameless corridor that ran beside a long-buried outcropping of grey-black bedrock for several dozen yards before plunging back into damp clay and its eventual unceremonious dead end. Glowing mushrooms of a strange, reddish hue grew thickly on the rock, as if glad of something solid to cling to. What was truly remarkable about the stone, however, was the jagged crack that split the visible section from top to bottom.
This crack had no glowing fungi lining its walls. Lux knew this was deliberate—every dragon who had business down here, herself included, was careful to scrape away any growths that might hint at just how deep the crack ran. After several hundred yards of switchbacks and jagged gaps that were almost to narrow for a Ridgeback or Guardian, let alone most Imperials, the dark crack widened abruptly into a poorly illuminated fissure in the rock that most dragons called Breakrock Alley.
The Alley was, to Lux’s knowledge, the only passage in the lair that was completely within the bedrock of the Tangled Wood. Not that it was truly a part of the Heart Tree and its tunnels—most dragons who frequented the Alley considered the lair above to be nothing more than the most convenient doorway to their place of business. This was not to say that there weren’t other entrances to the Alley. Secret ways through rock and earth that were open to dragons from other lairs who, for any number of reasons, didn’t want to be seen entering the Heart Tree. Pawnbrokers, loan sharks, and taverns of all descriptions lined the Alley’s walls in caves that had been chiselled directly from the stone, jammed cheek-by-jowl with establishments of even more unsavory natures. Unlike the market surrounding the main cavern above, these rooms had rough wooden doors propped open with lumps of stone or, more commonly, shut tight as if to hide whatever was inside. Here there were no carved signs or inviting displays to lure in customers. If a dragon came to the Alley, it was not to browse through shops.
Lux shifted on the wooden crate she was using as a seat, carefully examining the silver brooch beneath her lenses. It was masterful work, set with a flawless moonstone and surrounded by intricate metalwork, but years of neglect had blackened the metal and loosened the gem in its setting. Alwell had swindled the brooch and a number of other pieces off an elderly Snapper earlier in the week— that was to say, Lux had struck a favourable deal with the unwary matron and Alwell had paid for it—and he was getting impatient about having the merchandise restored for resale.
Lux sighed. Flipping jewelry was profitable work but sear it, it was boring. She rubbed another tiny dab of polish into the metal, then threw it back onto the table and stalked into the front room.
The musty red curtain that separated the shop’s two rooms billowed dramatically around her as she threw it aside. “I’m going out,” she announced to Alwell, who was hunched over his ledgers at the counter. Did the searing Snapper never stop counting pennies?
“No,” he grunted, not looking up. “You’re going to go to go back in there and finish cleaning that jewelry. I don’t pay you so you can spend your days traipsing around the market.”
Lux shook her crest in annoyance but otherwise ignored him. Shrewd businessman or not, Alwell did not understand the nature of their relationship. She didn’t work for him. She merely graced him with her talents when it suited her.
Lux danced toward the door, stopping only to admire herself in a dusty mirror that leaned against one wall. Yes, those new pink anklets did suit her. They were her own design, of course. A near-perfect imitation of some of the season’s most fashionable apparel, but with finer workmanship and clearer gems than anything found on the public market.
Noticing Alwell scowling at her she twirled once, letting the dim light of his lamp flicker over her shimmering scales and jewelry. Then she danced out of the shop, resisting the urge to aggravate the sturdy Snapper further.
Lux let the shop’s wooden door swing shut behind her, then almost tripped over an armoured blue-green tail draped across the doorstep.
“Do you ever do anything?” she snapped at Savion, turning to glare at the hulking Guardian that Alwell kept to guard his business. Something to do with the larger dragon’s charge, she thought.
Savion groaned and shoved his head further under one wing. The normally glistening skin was dull and sweaty, and as he moved Lux caught the acrid scent of drinks made from plants better left alone.
Shadowbinder’s eyes, not again. “Savion?” she said, laying a forepaw on his shoulder. “How late were you out last night?”
He raised his head, revealing bleary purple eyes and beard so matted she itched to just cut it off. Not that he would let her, of course. Guardians were strange that way.
“Too late,” he mumbled, trying and failing to focus on her face. “G’way. I’m working.”
Lux’s annoyance dissipated as she realized just how sick the Guardian was. He had been becoming more and more despondent for months, but she hadn’t known it was this bad. Sear it, maybe she should try to find out more about his charge. Guardians sometimes went funny when they felt they weren’t performing their duties.
Lux wasn’t sure how much she could do for the larger dragon right now, but she located a wide bucket outside a neighboring business’s door and, after making sure no one had noticed her take it, filled it from the deep well at the end of the Alley. That well and the fresh, if slightly sour, water it provided were the only reason the Alley could thrive as it did. It would be a lot harder to hide an illicit market if everyone who worked there had to haul water down on a daily basis.
Lux suspected the bucket was meant for wash water, but it would have to do. She rinsed it out as best she could, then emptied the first bucket over Savion’s head. This earned her a string of curses that she was surprised he could manage, given his state, but it seemed to clear his head. After that she fetched another bucket, which she left beside his head. Savion glared at her balefully and made no move to drink the water, but she knew he would. Sear it, but he had to be thirsty.
Feeling that she had done all she could, Lux made her way out of the Alley and into the Heart Tree proper. Savion slipped from her mind as she walked. There was just so much to see and experience. Her claws itched as she noticed a thick purse hanging at a Ridgeback’s hip, but she restrained herself. She made a point of not causing too much trouble in her own lair.
Lux moved easily through the main cavern. She stopped to talk to a few dragons she recognized, then ducked into Silail’s Gem Garden. She didn’t think too much of the well-to-do Nocturne and his carefully curated tables of miniature waterfalls and carved mannequins, but he did have some interesting pieces sometimes.
Lux started to peruse a collection of particularly fine rings, then froze. Leaning casually on the counter, much to Silail’s obvious distaste, was a rugged brown Coatl decked out in leather and well-worn pouches.
“Treveborn!” She squealed, shooting across the wide room. Silail huffed in annoyance as she ploughed into Coatl, sweeping him into a tight embrace. He laughed and hugged her back, the hard lumps of his full pouches digging into her.
Lux laughed, then held the brown dragon out at arm’s length. “You look half starved. C’mon, I’ll get you something to eat.” Treveborn didn’t complain as she dragged him from the shop and toward the comfortable glow of the Hole in the Stone, the clan’s most popular pub. The wandering gem merchant smelled of road dust and memories, and despite what she had said he didn’t seem any the worse for the wear. And, even if it was just for a few days, he was home.
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Feed this dragon Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Lux to the service of the Shadowbinder 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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