Jack
(#40592354)
Level 1 Fae
Ellon
Malevolent Spirit
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50
out of
50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Wind.
Male Fae
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
0.44 m
Wingspan
1.62 m
Weight
1.97 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Savanna
Savanna
Cantaloupe
Eye Spots
Eye Spots
Silver
Ghost
Ghost
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Fae
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
Almedha
OUT OF DATE LORE
but i wrote it so here it is
but i wrote it so here it is
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Jack the Undertaker not evil, just unpleasant Theme: Forward Thinking |
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━━ story ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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The body was two days dead now. Ancestral incense permeated the air inside the lair. Pungent and distressing to most dragons, Jack always found it pleasant and interesting. He’d never gotten his ancestors to come to the scent of the incense, but perhaps that was because he didn’t need it. Not really. The Tunda’s children had gathered from clans far and wide for his burial. Jack appreciated that about families, though sometimes all families did was rip themselves apart. Jack fluttered to the body and glanced around. It was just him and the Tundra, now. He lifted his hood away from his scarred face, a leftover of… terrible times in Plague territory. At the time, Jack thought it was no better than what this Tundra had suffered. Sometimes Jack thought it was worse. “I’m dreadfully sorry. A war party has formed to take care of the Harpies who did this to you.” Jack looked at the gashes and piercings that ended his life. But Jack was a skilled undertaker, and only the worst were still visible under his washed fur coat. Strategically-placed flowers and silk would take care of the rest. Removing the gloves from his skeletal hands, Jack placed his fingers on the dead runes beneath the Tundra’s eye. It doesn’t matter, an unfamiliar voice whispered in Jack’s mind. “What doesn’t matter?” Jack asked. The Harpies. Jack had found that most dead were rather sanguine about their situation, but this Tundra seemed even more so. As long as my children are happy, I am happy. Are they happy? Jack smiled and stroked the Tundra’s mane. “I think they will be.” Then I am at peace. |
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━━ history ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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Jack hatched from an egg stolen from an abandoned home on the border of Plague and Wind territory. His Harpy captors were cruel and unpredictable, keeping him in a cage cobbled together from bone and sinew in his early days. At the time, Jack knew nothing else, the Harpies controlling his perception of the past and the future. His powerful Wind magic kept them safe from dragon and beast incursions, his abilities like a hurricane, and their camp was the eye. Any deviation was punished harshly. The first dragon Jack met was another captive, though this one an old warrior Guardian named Ellon, on the Search for his Charge. The single misstep that led to his capture, Ellon said, wasn’t bad for a whole lifetime of Searching. Everything happens for a reason. Ellon had found his Charge. Life with the Harpies got harder after Ellon’s arrival, but now Jack felt certain that he wasn’t meant to live this way. Ellon shared Jack’s punishments and protected the Fae as best he could. He taught Jack about the world outside and assured him that the life he’d always known was not the life he’d always have. Jack could not have been more sorrowful the day Ellon was killed out of spite by their Harpy guards. While Jack mourned, someone out there seemed to hear him. As a gift for his survival against all the odds, he was blessed with an unusual ability. Jack thought he was crazy, hearing Ellon speaking in his head when he touched the Guardian’s body, telling him to escape. Jack had nothing to lose by trying. Jack escaped, leaving behind him only destruction. He started flying in any direction and found himself surrounded by a terrifying and beautiful display of life… and death. Nature territory was no more kind to Jack than Plague had been, but at least he was free. Over time, Jack came to learn how to use his gift to help others and help himself. Dying often gives dragons a perspective the living lack. As a Wind dragon bent on traveling more now that he can, he joined a nomadic clan and serves as their undertaker. He seems to be much more comfortable with the dead than even their resident Plague dragons. Life is a gift, but it may be hard to see until compared with the alternative. |
━━ familiar ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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After Jack escaped from the Harpies, he seemed to be haunted by a hulking collection of rickety bones and tattered webbing. Though he fled, it followed. One night, he was tired of running; he didn’t care what Ellon said. To his surprise, the skeletal remains came closer and stood, doing nothing… until a pack of hyenas approached. The skeleton ripped the creatures to shreds and continued to follow Jack everywhere he went. Though he can’t be sure, Jack thinks that his skeletal companion is his old Guardian Ellon. He waited his whole life for his Charge. He wasn’t going to let death get in his way. |
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━━ lineage ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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Jack knows nothing about his heritage, since he’s sure everything the Harpies told him was a lie. All the same, for all the searching he’s done, he’s never found a place and a family he might have come from. Though Jack doesn’t know if he’d be able to protect his family when it comes down to it, there is nothing Jack loves more than family. Family lives on after him, carrying his gifts further than he could ever go alone. The past and the future both are open to him and his children, and he hopes to see them go even further than he did. |
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In the same way, Calavera knows nothing about her heritage. As sensitive to life as Jack is to death, she flits across the world looking for strong concentrations of magic. Unlike Jack’s experiences, death has never touched her. Calavera searches for the places where life is secure, follows the lines criss-crossing the world to the places it holds the strongest grip. She understands life in the same way that Jack understands death, and she knows that life, like death, just happens. It doesn’t have to be safeguarded, protected, or kept from harm. She’s not meant to keep life at all costs, just understand it as best she can while she has it. |
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━━ notes ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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» Jack’s surname, Deadwhisper, comes from his unusual ability to listen to the dead. » » Jack didn’t escape his ordeal with the Harpies without a scratch. Both his wing membranes and face are scarred beyond the help of any healer he’s met. » » Though most Wind dragons are highly susceptible to Plague and its illnesses, Jack has become somewhat immune to it. Though he is not strong against it, he is at least no longer brought down by the first whiff of putrid air. |
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aesthetic: While Jack normally dresses in dark colors and hoods to hide his scarred face, he also enjoys the bright orange of his wings and the pestilent pool deep in the heart of Plague territory. |
likes: orange, peace and quiet, loud parties, memorial services dislikes: living without purpose, flippant attitudes, blue _________________________________________________________ |
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Exalting Jack to the service of the Windsinger 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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