1010nightflyer » Hibernal Den » Kerradi

Kerradi

(#46468121)

Kerradi.exe, analysis. | he/him

Familiar

Swiftfoot Slayer

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

4.03 m

Wingspan

8.31 m

Weight

444.23 kg

Genetics

Sand
Falcon

Splash
Striation

Sand
Spines

Hatchday

Oct 31, 2018
(5 years)

Breed

Adult
Wildclaw

Eye Type

Fire
Common

Level 1 Wildclaw

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Fehu
Ehwaz

Offspring

Biography

[under construction]
Kerrádi
Muse, Automaton

[1 / 7 unexalted, 1 / 42 total]

"My lords and ladies, I introduce to you, Kerrádi, my masterpiece and greatest creation!"

The curtains draw back, and the stage lights flood the amphitheater with overlapping shadows. Kerrádi brings his wings over his head and bows, flaring the cyan bladed feathers. Murmurs fill the amphitheater.

Under his brass plating, the infernal engine roars. Delicately, he struts stage right, then pivots sharply to stage left, showing off his clean and realistic movement. The brightest spotlight follows, sending stretched phantoms dancing on the backdrop behind.

He stretches gracefully, exhibiting the full range of movement of every joint, then nods to the band. His dance is slow and jazzy, and this time, he is careful to be precise with his wingtips. Last show he'd taken out the main curtain when his primaries twitched.

Show finishes, cue applause, the main falls, the tinkerer begins talking with the nobles on the other side of the main. They won't buy. He can already tell. The price is too high, even for the rich Hewn City intellectuals. He's too gimmicky, too tacky, for them. The tinkerer is getting a little desperate, not that they weren't already. Why else would they sell to begin with?

Either his price or this whole idea will drop.

Next show is an outpost city for a clan based in the Leviathan Trench. The city is small, but dense, and carefully planned. The dignitary from the clan is already there when the tinkerer and Kerrádi arrive. She is a golden-winged, creamy-scaled Imperial who introduces herself as Mlle Larunise. In a fit of literary romanticizing, Kerrádi finds himself hoping that her golden wings foreshadow golden treasure.

She watches the show disinterestedly, but scratches a few notes and passes the letter to her familiar. "I'll put you up for a week here in the garrison while I wait for a reply from our clan leader," she says, and Kerrádi notes her Wind eyes.

The reply arrives within three days, and the dignitary and the tinkerer begin to negotiate.

Kerrádi can't believe his luck and misfortune. Selling is a gamble. Who knows if this merchant clan will have enough skilled mechanics to maintain his delicate pulleys and cogs? But, well, he'll see the great trenches of the ocean, perhaps explore this far-flung clan's worldwide outposts. Maybe he'll go wandering again after all this. Life with the tinkerer...well, he's not bad off, he's never been healthier, but he feels the tinkerer doesn't quite...realize, that pre-programmed settings and such are all very well and good, but sometimes a little freeform conversation is nice.

The tinkerer packs him a box of spare gears, a sparse and cheap toolkit, and a bottle of oil. "Look after yourself if no-one else does," they say, not meeting his eyes and adjusting his traveling coat.

"I will," he says reflexively, and the tinkerer nods. "That's my lad," they say. He's older than they are, but no matter. He watches the plume of dust from the tinkerer's cart for an hour before the arrival of the dignitary's ship interrupts him.

Mlle Larunise doesn't know what to make of him. From her rushed, uncertain manner and the snatches of the letter's reply he reads off her desk, he gathers that this was an impulsive decision on the clan leader's part. Mlle also doesn't know his capabilities. She was given the rundown, but she treats him like an interesting statue. She does not invite him to dinner. He can't eat it anyway, but standing in the corner with a sheet over his head is a little boring.

The sheet stays over his head until a bit of dust gets into his motor processor and he accidentally kicks a hole in the bulkhead. Once he explains himself, Mlle seems understanding, but that hole in the carvings looks irreparable. After that she lets him wander the ship for the four days of the journey, maintaining himself, for a change.

Kerrádi is powered off for the descent into the trench. Disappointing. He would have liked to see it. Mlle Larunise has to spend an annoyingly long time at the control panel at his flank trying to manipulate switches not intended for Imperial claws, and when she finally gets the right pathway, she forgets to turn off his automatic resting animations and scares herself with his tail twitching.

He resumes input in an amphitheater-like council chamber, its three balconies filled with shifting blue light. A dais surrounded by wreaths and flourishes of sea blossoms and shells bears the clan leader, a Guardian veiled in stars.

He waits for instruction, but as all the leader does is consider him with a stare like a shark, he reconsiders. Time for "Humble Self-Introduction to Noble, No. 1." He bows, flaring his wings, and introduces himself. "Greetings, o great leader, for I am Kerrádi, automaton and muse. May I inquire as to your festivities on this fine evening?"

His voice echos off the enamel and gold tile mosaic patterning the walls and floor. He waits the appropriate time before rising, but the leader has not acknowledged his greeting. He rifles through his scripts, and finds nothing.

"I think I have been misled somewhat," the clan leader says coolly, leaning forward to get a better look at him. "You're sapient, aren't you?"

"I couldn't say," he says, honestly. He has the processing power to act as such, but no way of knowing if that was the intent of his creator, to assume a role in society.

"Well." The leader snaps her head about, considering her choice. "I am in many businesses, but philosophy is not one of them. You act real enough, from what I've heard from Larunise, and that's good enough for me." She tosses aside the spangled piles of silks, and stands. "Go find Zayathinae, he's around here somewhere, and we'll get you on the payroll. We've got several ceremonies coming up, and I expect entertainment. He'll sort it all out for you."

Sentience. It's tantalizing.

Kerrádi pokes around in the halls near the throne room, and finds Zayathinae, a white and copper Pearlcatcher engrossed in figures in a cramped office off the second balcony. Zayathinae sorts out a basic paycheck and assigns him a guest room, apparently used to this sort of thing,

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0/1000

Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.

Exalting Kerradi 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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