Cathmor
(#44713222)
He/Him
Familiar
Longneck Scrapper
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 47/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Male Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
20.26 m
Wingspan
16.33 m
Weight
9205.49 kg
Genetics
Ice
Wasp
Wasp
Ice
Bee
Bee
Lead
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Imperial
Max Level
STR
130
AGI
9
DEF
5
QCK
47
INT
5
VIT
13
MND
5
Biography
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xx CATHMOR KUNORUS • GUARDIAN PROTECTIVE | LOYAL | SILENT |
He stretched his wings, rolling his shoulders to work out the steady ache that had begun to grow. The steaming landscape of the Molten Scar belched out lava and smoke, warming steady currents rising through the air that made for easy flying for those that weren’t afraid of the burning jets of steam from the geysers that spit out boiling water and toxic gases up into the air, hoping to catch unsuspecting visitors off their guard.
He was a stranger to this land and quickly learned that it was not particularly kind to strangers. He had found little respite here. Those who lived here, carved away in an ever-changing landscape of stone and magma were as tough as the armor they forged and wary of visitors. Newcomers were rare to this land unless their intention was to conquer. Clans lived in tight-knit communities, old alliances and enemies kept alive by generations of memories.
Still, the unwelcoming attitude bothered him little. He knew he would find no rest here, nor did he expect it. He was pleased to fly on. He knew from his generals and war-mates that there was an ice-field to the South, though he himself had never seen it. He hoped to disappear in the fields of mountains and snow, wandering wastelands far away from the battlefields and orders and the stench of blood and death.
He was tired, so tired. His bones ached with a pain far older than his body. The war had ended a dozen or more years ago, but he could still hear echoing screams and feel the sticky blood, stuck in his claws, in the cracks of his armor, dripping from his teeth. It was such a terrible, bloody war, one that had last far too long. Near the end, it all had seemed so pointless. The King had been so far away, yet his long claws had reached far. Clans who had only known peace were forced to fight, to defend their homes against monsters and killers.
He had died so often during the course of the long war. He had been conscripted long before it had even started, when the threat had still just seemed like a distant storm on the horizon. Although his loyalty to the goddess had him on the side of the King, his nature had turned his side quickly. He had no motivation to fight for a dragon who cared so little for life in al its forms. His service as a soldier had seen him fall under the command of a line of increasingly arrogant and self-centered handlers, each one eager to to out-do the last with atrocities they could order him to commit.
In the end, it had all been decided far from the battlefield he had been fighting, the front lines fighting for days in one great battle that felt more like a loss than a victory. He had been away, deep in the Sunbeam Ruins, doing battle against ancient enemies thought long-lost, but who were painfully familiar to his eyes and reminded him of friends he once had. All he had at his side were a small handful of soldiers, painfully young to be fighting such an ancient blood feud. He simply prayed to a goddess who had long since turned her back on her chosen people for the strength to protect them, caring painfully little for himself. If he died, he would return, again and again to a world that had forgotten him. They had families who were waiting for them to return.
He buried them all in yellow grass.
He shook out his long mane, stretching his long wings ever wider. A geyser to his right spit out an angry burst of gasses and he leaned artfully away, just the tip of his red and silver wings brushing the white-hot air. He didn’t wince, to practiced in the art of repression to allow any emotion to bubble up to the surface.
Lava flows crept and oozed across the land below him, carving out islands of blackened rocks where villages and cities had built themselves up in the heart of the lava fields. The rising air carried the sounds of laughter, joyous celebrations, of birthday parties and local festivals, the hammering of anvil and steel, the raucous noise of hard-earned success.
It was very different from any of the places he had ever called home, but it reminded him of them all the same.
Something strange caught his eye as he flew, pulling him from his racing thoughts. Fire was no stranger to the area, but homes and cities were built of stones and materials that were resistant to licking flames. The charred remains of a small village stood out like a dark spot amongst the lava flows. Some of the buildings were still coughing out grey smoke, different from the ash or geysers or rippling currents that coated the entirety of the Scar.
He should have kept moving. His muscles were aching and sore, his armor was filthy, he was unbearably tired. He wanted nothing more than to lay his head down to rest.
He tilted his long wings and began to spiral down to investigate the abandoned village.
He landed on the outskirts, soot and blood caking his claws and boots almost immediately, the darkened rusty red staining his already greyed out crystalline armor. A acrid gust of wing carried the scent of rot and mold past him, racing along the ground to spread the stench far and wide. A lifetime surrounded by blood and death hardened his expression, though his heart beat fast in his chest.
He took carefully light steps over the muddy ground, blood and ash mixing together to make a caking, sticky substance that clung tight to his scales and armor. The mud had swallowed up columns, decorated in grey and red peeling paint, carved figures from artistic hands half buried in black and brown. Small, one-story houses made of cheap local wood had collapsed in on themselves, planks sinking in to the mud and the tips still glowing in embers, charred and blackened all around.
There were bodies in the mud, their forms already decaying and grotesque. Carrion eaters had settled around the village, birds and predators hissing at him as he passed and bugs quickly disappearing back into the tunnels they formed. Those that still had flesh clinging to them were skinny, ribs poking out in a way that had little to do with the state of decomposition they were in. They had been starving long before the fires had claimed them.
He made his way further in to the small village. Poorly built houses slowly gave way to buildings that were made of crumbling stone that was now littered on the ground. These homes were freer from the fires, though the insides still smoldered with embers that hadn’t yet been blown out, sheltered by walls that still stood like skeletons in the night.
The scent of burning silk made him wrinkle his nose, the scent rotten and almost as bad as the scent of the dead. There had been no silk in the outer dredges of the village, but here the ground was coated in it. Golden jewelry stained with blood and muck and buried was littered all across. The ground was warm, and the flows always changed their paths. One day the gold would melt again, perhaps to be reforged into a nugget by an enterprising young adventurer many years down the line.
The dragons of this land were ruled by their rituals. Their smog-filled skies often covered up the sun and moon, so they counted their days by birthdays and festivals. Every day was for celebration or mourning. Of all the rites they took seriously, it was the death rites that were the most revered. Bodies were carefully and lovingly laid to rest by friends and families.
There were no bodies in this part of the village.
He was reminded of another empty field littered blood and bone. No one had come to bury those children. No one had been left to do so.
His body moved without his ever giving it any input, turning on his heel gracefully, long tail dragging in the dirt. He returned to the outskirts of the village. He had no knowledge of the details of the death rituals that would be expected here, but he could hardly do nothing.
The next few hours was spent dragging burnt and blackened bodies, scarred beyond recognition, into shallowly dug graves. He had no tools but his own claws and the oppressing heat was starting to creep under his scales and dig deep into his flesh. But still he did not stop. He had a duty, one that was, for once in his long life, self-assigned.
The sun had started to creep lower by the time he was nearly finished. He stood in front of his makeshift graveyard, the heavy weight of sorrow on his shoulders. He had no words to say, to pass them gently into death. Still, he lifted his head to the smoke-filled sky and sent a silent prayer to his gods. To Maple and Cortez, to watch over the abandoned souls, to guide them to peace.
A cough caught his attention. It decidedly did not startle him, but it did make him jump. He had been working in silence for hours now, yet clearly for at least some of that time, he had not been alone.
“Come out,” he growled. His voice was soft and harsh, worn by lack of use. He spoke like the very act of pushing the words up his throat and past his teeth pained him. Maybe it did.
Something slunk out from the rubble. It was a child, not more than a year old, eyes still wide and wet with innocence and youth. The half-crawled, half-limped out from under a fallen column. They were filthy, covered in coal and dirt and ash but the tips of blonde fur was just barely visible beneath all the filth. They tilted their head curiously, staring up at him shining blue eyes.
He was frozen then, in a way he had never felt. Soldiers he had spoken to had talked about being paralyzed by fear the first time they had truly seen the horrors of the battlefield, their limbs stuck in mid-motion but could not convince their hearts to move. This felt something like that. Something had settled in the moments of silence that stretched between them, like he had turned the page of his own story and found his future written in permanent pen. This meeting, though drawn by chance, was always meant to happen. By destiny they had found themselves here, by fate they had found each other. In another life, they would have met, in a future life they will again. There was a certainty to every step he took from here on out, a story that had always been told.
He choked on air, an emotion unfamiliar in every way had settled at home in his chest. It was warm and gentle and welcoming and for the first time in a long time, the hollow shell of his armor felt lively again.
As he was having his life-changing revelation, the child had apparently decided something of their own. They hummed to themselves as they moved forward. They had an odd gait, one front leg was shorter than the other and one back leg was bent at an odd angle.
He jumped, truly startled this time as the little thing settled next to his tail. Their body was warm and their breaths came out in quick, sharp bursts. They curled around themselves, sticking their nose under their wing and closing their eyes, sighing contentedly.
For once in his life, he was terribly unsure about what to do next. At once, he was absolutely certain. This child was his to protect, to love, to care for. He had no choice, but the inevitability of that statement no longer felt like a burden. He turned his head back to the homemade graveyard. He had no ability to see ghosts, nor could he feel their presence on this plane or any other. All the same, he had a feeling on the back of his scales that there was someone watching him, grieving and concerned.
“I will not leave him,” he spoke aloud. The feeling slowly faded, and perhaps he hallucinated it, but he thought he could feel gratefulness before the presence faded completely.
He turned once more, careful as could be to gaze on the child who had already fallen asleep, filthy, exhausted, starving and alone. He sighed. Not a noise of discontentment but of affirmation. With assuredness in his movements, he bundled up the child into his arms. Claws that carried the blood of too many and arms that had only been made for war now struggled to be gentle. The child slept on.
He took to the sky, the rush of wind in his face carrying with it a promise and a peace. The child would need food, shelter, medicine. They would need him. He tilted his long wings and turned north, the future stretching out for him beyond the horizon as purpose once more settled in his bones.
RELATIONSHIPS
| Goddess Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. |
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Son Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.
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DESCRIPTION
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. |
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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. |
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