Iovnudus
(#39958704)
Level 1 Coatl
Familiar
Juvenile Starsweeper
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 47/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Male Coatl
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.19 m
Wingspan
8.33 m
Weight
1107.3 kg
Genetics
Latte
Python
Python
Latte
Morph
Morph
Mauve
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Coatl
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
7
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
5
MND
6
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
Biography
IOVNUDUS - Tarotist
The second Iovnudus could escape the Scarred Wasteland, he did.
He would have been thrilled to grow up anywhere else, whether that was among the frigid floes of the Southern Icefield, or in the scorching desert of the Shifting Expanse. At least those places aren't nearly so ghastly and gruesome, dripping with infection and rot. He counts himself lucky that he fled when he did; even with natural defenses against the rampant disease, his delicate constitution probably would have failed anyway, and then where would he be? Trapped in Plaguebringer's domain, too sick and weak to save himself?
That was never going to be an option. It couldn't be.
Iovnudus can't even be particularly upset that no one saw him off. He didn't care much for the land or the dragons he was leaving behind, and frankly, no sendoff meant there was no one to pass on their horrific maladies at the last moment. Any sickness he carried was already incubating inside him, and if his research was correct, that was nothing some quarantine wouldn't fix, especially if he could make it to the Ashfall Waste and sweat it out.
That became his plan, to hurry to his ancestral homeland and bathe in the steaming springs until every last bit of disease was burned away, leaving him clean and new, untainted by the Plaguebringer's vile touch. He'd fill his veins with magma if that was what it took; anything to purge his abominable roots, anything at all.
Thankfully, there was no need to become a living volcano. As expected, a few weeks spent regularly soaking in the springs and painting his scales with inky black ash was enough to change Iovnudus from an active carrier to a benign one. A healer warned him that if he had children, it was possible they could inherit some of his natural protections and the diseases he still bore, but short of that, there was no question of his contagiousness. It was over. He was free, and he was clean.
He was also without a plan, without connections, without family. Ancestral home though it might be, the Ashfall Waste was still a foreign land to him. It was impossible to say for certain who he could trust, where he ought to go, and a thousand other things locals were likely to know. The learning curve was steep and daunting, but unless he wished to sacrifice everything and return to the hellish pits of the Wyrmwound, it was the only way forward.
Not every profession was suited to him. He steered clear of the forges and the billowing black smoke inside that clung to his scales and sapped away his brilliance, hating the hours he had to spend scrubbing the muck away afterward. Conditions like that were nearly as unclean as the Scarred Wasteland, and he was not eager to spend his time in such a way.
Fishing wasn't acceptable either. So long at sea unsettled Iovnudus's stomach on the single occasion he dared to give the profession a chance, and if he wasn't laid up with seasickness, he was clutching at his stomach, queasy at the sight and smell of fresh caught fish, still smoking from the boiling seas.
It was jewelry, though, that eventually caught his eye. There was a jeweler near the inn where Iovnudus's stay was wearing thin, and she hung the most shining, glorious works of art in the windows of her shop every morning. The metalwork was painfully intricate, clearly the product of hours and hours of love and care, and the gems inlaid in every piece glimmered by the light of the embers that rained from the sky. It was with this dragon that Iovnudus cast his lot and learned a trade that would carry him forward.
He's worked hard under the jeweler's tutelage, beginning with the most rudimentary of adornments, laboring his way towards those glorious creations he yearned for each day. As his skills improved, he could produce more, and after some time, he was decked in nearly as much metallic finery as he created. Every movement jingled softly with metal, and the light caught no matter which way he turned, drawing the eye to him first every time. The trade suited his vanity, and it paid exceptionally well. He was certain he was set for life, ready to settle down in the Ashfall Waste forever.
But a shipment gone wrong left him stranded in the Tangled Wood, and he is faced with a decision. Should he go, and return to the warm lands of the Flamecaller, or should he stay in the dark, where he is the brightest and most beautiful thing around? The former option would advance his career still further, but there is a vain pride in his soul that thirsts for the latter. Nothing else in this dim wood rivals him, not even the witches with all their spells. He is glorious here, beautiful and shining. And isn't that what he's always wanted?
Bio by Tues.
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
Feed this dragon Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Iovnudus 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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