Fugue
(#44462371)
Pestilence the White
Familiar
Crowned Bonepriest
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Nocturne
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.12 m
Wingspan
5.66 m
Weight
494.6 kg
Genetics
White
Iridescent
Iridescent
Crimson
Shimmer
Shimmer
Crimson
Smoke
Smoke
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Nocturne
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Lineage
Biography
FUGUE
Avatar of Pestilence
"Disease gets a bad rep, don't you think? For being filthy, chaotic. But really, that just describes people who get sick. Disease itself, very... pure. Single-minded. Bacteria have one purpose: divide and conquer. That's why, in the end, it always wins."
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 Diablerie says: "Listen, my friend, the Ages that are past are now a book with seven seals protected. Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard a creature saying as with a voice of thunder, “Come.” I looked and beheld a white horse, and she who sat on it had a bow, and a crown was given to her, and she went out conquering and to conquer. Behind her the waters churned and thickened into pus, and the air swarmed with malice."  Coronach says: "Fugue is odd. Different. Oh, she plays the part well enough, but she just looks... off. Not quite as sure as the others, not quite as fixed into what she is. Is she Pestilence or is she Conquest? Is she even a horseman at all? Is she truly the wielder of a primaeval force or just a really good mimic? She is a Nocturne after all, and if there is anything Nocturnes are good at, it's copying what they cannot hope to become. Though we all wonder, none has gotten close enough to find out." |
 Kill V. Maim     Pestilence  War  Famine  Death 
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Deciphered from page 4 of an ancient tome labelled "Sacralexicon": On the topic of the Horsemen, very few have seen their true forms. They manifest in the shape of mortals, but on all accounts, they are simply... inhuman. In both appearance and behaviour. An eyewitness account described Pestilence taking the shape of the Nocturne, the bat. Unfortunately, the eyewitness later perished in the hospital before more accurate accounts could be taken. If true, a Nocturne is surely a fitting form for one who chooses to spread disease. Few creatures carry the will of Pestilence like the rodent, and unlike their landlocked cousins, the bat is not limited by sea nor mountain, they can spread their filth to all corners of the world.
"Tell me, seer: What lies beyond death?"
"I see cold mist plucking at skin and stabbing bone with chill. I see eyes, pits of gloom, that draw in the horrified gaze. She takes not a breath, and her every gesture crackles like ancient bones snapping under an iron boot. Her claws have caressed eyes, tongues, and veins, all with loving care. She is a ghost that has never known life. She passes through stone as if it were water, flesh and soul as if they were a baby's sigh. She knows the true name of every being that is or ever will be, and she hates them all. Is it the warmth of blood and breath that she despises so? Or does she believe that her bitter not-life is perfection itself? The mists that blanket our world are her eyes, her fingers. They probe, they search, they seek souls. Dying souls, souls that are weak from age or youth, corruption or naivety, despair or hope. In the dead of their dreams she finds them. She tells them their true name, and oh so gently holds them in her chill embrace. 'Child,' she whispers, ‘let me relieve all your burdens.' Those who awaken are indelibly marked: The lidded eyes, the wandering mind, the little jump at the innocent touch. They remember naught but a shudder in their belly and an ill-formed blot in their thoughts. She visits again, her icy hand sinking deeper drawing no blood – only cries and sobs muffled as though smothered under a pillow. Each slumbereve, she comes, her words harsher, her cut deeper, until she tears at entrail and sinew, sucks at marrow, and plucks at the mouth, tooth by tooth. Yet when her favored are found in their beds, their bodies are whole, their skin pure, except for the horror stamped forever on their faces. Now, my dear, that you know how one can die, do you really wish to know what comes after?" I did not. 
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Exalting Fugue 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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