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Marburg

(#46046751)

The Doctor

Zoster

Bearded Pupowl

Energy: 48/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

5.27 m

Wingspan

4.89 m

Weight

723.05 kg

Genetics

Blood
Jaguar

Maroon
Rosette

Red
Glimmer

Hatchday

Oct 15, 2018
(5 years)

Breed

Adult
Nocturne

Eye Type

Plague
Common

Level 1 Nocturne

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

___________________________________________________________

Marburg
The Doctor

_________________________

B I O G R A P H Y

______ The roaming band of researchers was small, but devout and dead-set in their mission: to catalogue every disease and ailment in Sorineth. A group of brothers that never grew past ten strong, they carried their generations of knowledge with the help of allied Serthis clans through all eleven realms of the land, though they had a particular affinity for The Scarred Wastelands. Though their medical goal was diametrically opposed to the children of the Plaguebringer, The Order of Asclepius was still well respected by Plague clans, welcomed in by many families to research and record their homebrewed pathogens. Their newest member was an eager young Nocturne born to the Order's chancellor, named after a hemmorhagic fever his father had discovered. Armed with an insatiable appetite for knowledge and his ever-growing catalogue of diagnostic information, Marburg was ready to uphold The Order's mission and devour all the information the world had to offer.
An uncharacteristically timid Spiral approached the Order one day late summer, wringing his dainty claws and sweating profusely under the heavy wasteland sun.
"Excuse me...I heard you guys knew a lot about illness."
"You could say that," Marburg's father spoke up from the back of the group, who were congregated around an Imperial covered in oozing pustules. "What is it that you want?"
"Well, uh, we have a problem at home." The Spiral's voice began to waver, whether it be from nerves or sadness. "My friends are dropping like flies, and nobody knows how to help them!"
"And? It's summer, it's probably just heat exhaustion. You icefolk were always horribly equipped to handle heat." One of The Order members chuckled while grabbing a glass vial, collecting some of the ooze from a burst pustule and sealing it up for further examination.
"No, you don't understand!" The Spiral wormed his was into the center of the group, hovering above their patient. "This is different. None of our doctors know what this thing is; they've tried everything to cure it, but it just comes back stronger. Please, you have to help us!"
The Coatl paused to ponder the Spiral's claims, his many eyes pointed at the ground in contemplation. Finally, he spoke.
"Marburg, would you like to accompany this young man and see what's causing this hysteria?" He glanced over at his son, who was organizing the scribe's notes on their current patient.
"Yes, of course!"

______ Despite it being summer in Sorineth, winter's cold grip seemed unrelenting in the Southern Icefields. Marburg's heavy furs did nothing to shield him from the nipping winds of the mountains, and all his goggles seemed to do was further obscure his vision. He couldn't fathom why anyone would choose to live here when there were much warmer places to call home; he would much rather be in the scorching heat of the Wasteland than be eaten alive by sleet and ice. But his devotion to the Order outweighed his discomfort, so he trekked on in the path of his guide, Zero. They reached the mountain's basecamp by 'nightfall', or whatever seemed to pass as a sunset during the polar summer. What seemed to be a once-bustling hamlet was now eerily quiet, not a soul in sight.
"Everyone's been so worried since people started dying." Zero turned to talk to the young doctor as they passed through the town's center. "They hardly ever come outside anymore, unless it's to pick up their rations." They made their way to a little burrow dug into the permafrost, the tunnel continuing far underground. "The infirmary's down there. I would go down with you, but I don't really want to get sick." Zero paused, looking at his companion. "You won't get sick, right?"
"I shouldn't think so," Marburg said, pulling a ghastly mask over his face. "I take all necessary precautions before I enter any biohazardous zone."
"Okay, good. Just...just do what you can. Even if it isn't curable, just please...ease their pain the best you can."
"Of course." Marburg was solemn as he began to enter the tunnel, holding his head low in an almost macabre reverence.
The infirmary was dimly lit by Kunzite fragments embedded in the icy walls, casting an eerie violet light across the ice. Beds of featherback pelts lay empty against the walls, the smell of sterilizer overpowering the dingy cave air. Perplexed by the emptiness of the infirmary, Marburg prepared to head back up to the surface until a cough caught his attention. Further down the line of beds, he almost hadn't noticed the pallid Tundra and the nurse caring for her. The Fae nurse pressed a towel to the Tundra's head, but she was still somewhat unresponsive. Marburg made his way over to the duo, and as he got closer he could see how poor the Tundra really looked. Emaciated and stiff, she had lost almost all of her fur, allowing Marburg to see her peaked figure and scabbed skin. Her veins were varicose and swollen, and the plush down of her featherback bedding was soaked through with sweat. But that's not what caught Marburg's attention. No, his eyes were drawn to the Tundra's glazed-over eyes, which practically popped out of her emaciated face. Some form of cataracts had clouded them over, making the dragon effectively blind. A milky fluid oozed from her tear ducts, further clouding her infected eyes. They were practically as white as the snow that blanketed the surface of her home.
"She was admitted about a week ago," The Fae piped up from behind him, "Came in with chills. Then her hair started falling out, and it all went downhill from there. I'd give her about another couple of days." Marburg hushed the brash nurse, but she only rolled her eyes. "Oh relax, she's as deaf as she is blind by now. She has no idea what's going on right now."
"Any other symptoms?" Marburg asked, taking out a quill and a piece of parchment from his travel pack. "Are they consistent between patients?"
"Pretty much. They all come in with a fever and chills, and they leave blind, deaf, and in a body bag. It usually takes them within two weeks, but they've been going quicker lately. We've been calling it Snowblind." Marburg walked over to further examine the Tundra and whipped out a vial from his pack, collecting some of the ooze seeping out of her eyes. "Her name's Angel."
"I'll run some tests and see if I can figure out what this is. Do you have any pathology equipment here?"
"Look, I was just sent here when the outbreak began, I have no idea how any of this medical stuff works. Hardly anyone else here does either, so I doubt we have what you need to run your 'tests.'" The nurse sounded disgruntled as she addressed Marburg. "Though if we did have any tools of your kind here, they'd be with Nokk. She's into that weird stuff, so go ask her."
"Well, where is she?"
"Her den's down by the lakeshore; it's the one with all the bronze bits of the door."
"Thank you for your help, eh-"
"Shaula."
"Yes, thank you Shaula." Marburg tried to keep himself collected as he left the infirmary, but on the inside he was brimming with excitement. He had never even heard of a disease like this; this was something completely new. He couldn't wait to tell his father about it, but first he needed to fufill his promise to this wintery clan.

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