Gwern
(#46374027)
Level 8 Imperial
Familiar
Fungi Sage
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Lightning.
Male Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
23.06 m
Wingspan
18.72 m
Weight
5999.96 kg
Genetics
Goldenrod
Skink
Skink
Crocodile
Noxtide
Noxtide
Smoke
Lace
Lace
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 8 Imperial
EXP: 200 / 16009
STR
39
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
20
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Lineage
Biography
lore by ArchangelBeth
With all his hatchling dignity, he intoned, ''I am the swamplord and this is my domain.''
Around him, his siblings lifted their heads as well and chorused, ''All hail the swamplord Gwern! Hail! Hail the master of mud!''
Royal Midnight, who had firm ideas about the dignity of the breed of Imperials, stared in horror for several long moments, before whipping his head around. ''Sunbright!'' he bellowed, serpentine body and tail following his head in a U-turn as he stalked out of the cave where the newest hatchlings had made their den. ''What is the meaning of your offspring doing this!?!''
Left behind, the Bogsneaks (and Imperial ''swamplord'') sank back into their mud, slithering around with their eyes barely above their puddle. Occasionally, one giggled.
Now grown, the Swamplord Gwern is the last of his clutch remaining in the Scrublair. When not being dragged off to practice fighting and hunting, he spends his time in dragon-made wallows of mud and what mosses he can filch from the Tundras. With only his horns, eyes, and nose above the surface, he can be surprisingly hard to spot.
His father despairs of him. His mother tries to brew potions that will make him act like an Imperial and not a particularly boggy bogsneak. (Gwern pours them out into his sleeping places. They don't seem to be being absorbed through his scales.)
Sometimes he thinks it would be nice to find a place in a Nature clan. Surely they have lovely swamps and bogs, yes? He could coil around in them, and cultivate moss in his horns and mane. But really, he could fit in anywhere, so long as he was given a bit of water and dirt to churn into mud. Maybe he'd be able to charm some pretty Bogsneak with his knowledge of how to slither around swampily!
His father, who would far rather teach a bit of Imperial poetry for impressing other dragons, really despares of Gwern.
======
With Peacock:
 |
''Why,'' Royal Midnight (treasure-keeper for the Scrublair) asked, ''is there MUD all over this cave?'' Slowly, Gwern lifted his long, snakey, Imperial head from the largest puddle. (It had taken him and his Bogsneak siblings quite some time to bring in enough water to make the puddle, and they were very proud of it.) |
Around him, his siblings lifted their heads as well and chorused, ''All hail the swamplord Gwern! Hail! Hail the master of mud!''
Royal Midnight, who had firm ideas about the dignity of the breed of Imperials, stared in horror for several long moments, before whipping his head around. ''Sunbright!'' he bellowed, serpentine body and tail following his head in a U-turn as he stalked out of the cave where the newest hatchlings had made their den. ''What is the meaning of your offspring doing this!?!''
Left behind, the Bogsneaks (and Imperial ''swamplord'') sank back into their mud, slithering around with their eyes barely above their puddle. Occasionally, one giggled.
===
Now grown, the Swamplord Gwern is the last of his clutch remaining in the Scrublair. When not being dragged off to practice fighting and hunting, he spends his time in dragon-made wallows of mud and what mosses he can filch from the Tundras. With only his horns, eyes, and nose above the surface, he can be surprisingly hard to spot.
His father despairs of him. His mother tries to brew potions that will make him act like an Imperial and not a particularly boggy bogsneak. (Gwern pours them out into his sleeping places. They don't seem to be being absorbed through his scales.)
Sometimes he thinks it would be nice to find a place in a Nature clan. Surely they have lovely swamps and bogs, yes? He could coil around in them, and cultivate moss in his horns and mane. But really, he could fit in anywhere, so long as he was given a bit of water and dirt to churn into mud. Maybe he'd be able to charm some pretty Bogsneak with his knowledge of how to slither around swampily!
His father, who would far rather teach a bit of Imperial poetry for impressing other dragons, really despares of Gwern.
======
With Peacock:
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Exalting Gwern to the service of the Tidelord 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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