Clay
(#46641785)
the Lost
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Female Skydancer
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.2 m
Wingspan
6.45 m
Weight
629.5 kg
Genetics
Black
Pinstripe
Pinstripe
Nightshade
Trail
Trail
Maize
Spines
Spines
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Skydancer
EXP: 651 / 5545
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
Clay, the Sculptor
Why..?
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Clay is an upstanding citizen and member of the clan. They work hard every day to dig out new living quarters for everyone else to live in. Clay is reserved and keeps to themselves, but has been known to crack a smile at a few odd jokes. Clay’s back spikes have an odd peculiarity about them. They don’t look quite like normal spikes, and Clay’s guardedness about them only stokes the flame of curiosity brighter. I don’t like to talk about them, but dragons love to gossip. Some have said that they are teeth, some say they are nails, some say that they are roots from when Clay got lost in the Tangled Wood and came out a changed dragon (even though Clay has never gotten lost in the Tangled Wood, in fact, they had an excellent sense of direction). It’s only the elder dragons that ruin the fun and tell the youngsters to stop prying. Well, anyway, it’s only a small aspect of Clay, and we don’t judge dragons based on odd peculiarities! After all, if we did, then half of the dragons in the clan wouldn’t be here! They gossip about what they would shudder to know. No one is really sure when Clay arrived in the clan, or why. They seemed to just show up one day. Those who’ve asked them get odd words and evasive answers from Clay, and then a cuff backside the head by nearby elders for asking rude questions. Clay is a loner, and doesn’t like to interact much with others. They instead like to focus on their work. They dig tunnels and sculpt clay into beautiful shapes with deft claws. Clay much prefers the company of their sculptures to the company of dragons that might pry into their personal life. Clay’s dark colors and silent movements make it seem as if they are invisible in the shadows of their workshop. The only give away for their presence is the glint of distant light off their back spines and talons, and the eerie humming. Odd, really, that Clay loves to hum so much, especially considering they often cite a chronically sore throat when trapped in a conversation. Some hatchlings even love to gossip about the sculptor’s emaciated figure, dark colors, and scarred body. Clay has become a regular ghost story to the little ones, much to the chagrin of the elders. But I don’t mind too much. I’m far too busy to care… D̴e̸f̸e̶n̴d̸i̷n̸g̷ ̸m̵y̴s̷e̷l̶f̴.̸ Clay gets lost in their work. Clay makes hauntingly realistic sculptures in the darkness of their workshop. The only thing that splits the silence is their eerie, haunting humming. Clay’s body is emaciated, covered in scars. Their throat and belly are torn up. But t̵h̴e̵y̵ can’t see. The darkness covers much worse than a workshop. H̵̘̯͗e̴̟̠̓l̵̤̩͘p̴̠̕ ̶̛̘̈ͅm̸͖͛ẹ̷̺̄.̶̢͙̀ Clay is M̴O̴N̶S̸T̴E̶R̷ and member of the clan. They work hard every day to dig out T̴H̵E̴ ̷B̸U̴G̶S̷ ̷t̵h̸a̵t̶ ̴l̶i̶v̶e̵ ̸i̶n̸ ̴M̶Y̵ ̴S̶K̸I̴N̴. Clay is reserved and keeps to themselves, but has been known to w̵i̷n̸c̵e̸ ̴i̵n̶ ̵p̶a̵i̴n̷ at the few odd jokes. Clay’s back spikes B̷U̸R̶N̶ M̷Y̷ S̸O̶U̸L̵.̶ They don’t act like normal spikes, and Clay’s L̴O̸V̵E̷ ̸F̶O̶R̷ ̸U̶S̵ only stokes the flame brighter. I don’t like to talk about them, but T̴H̵E̷Y̴ B̷U̷R̵N̸.̵ Some have said that they are teeth. It’s only the elder dragons that C̵A̶N̵ S̵E̵E̶ T̸H̴E̶M̶.̷ O̴N̴L̷Y̶ A̴ S̵M̴A̵L̵L̶ A̴S̶P̶E̶C̷T̸ O̷F̸ I̸T̷. After all, I̷F̶ T̴H̸E̶Y̸ W̸E̶R̸E̴N̵'̸T̶,̶ half of the dragons in the clan wouldn’t be here! T̶H̶E̶Y̶ G̵O̷S̵S̷I̴P̶ A̷B̴O̸U̵T̶ W̴H̵A̴T̸ T̷H̷E̴Y̴ W̸O̵U̸L̴D̶ S̵H̸U̶D̸D̷E̸R̷ T̷O̸ K̷N̴O̵W̵.̶ No one is really sure when Clay arrived in the clan, or why. They A̷L̸L̴ F̴O̵R̴G̴O̴T̵ M̶E̷ one day. Those who’ve asked get odd words and evasive answers and a cuff backside the head by elders for asking T̸H̶E̴ R̴I̷G̸H̷T̸ questions. Clay is a loner, and C̷A̴N̴'̴T̶ interact much with others. They instead like to focus on their work. They dig tunnels and sculpt clay into beautiful shapes with deft. scarred claws. Clay much prefers the company of their sculptures to the company of dragons that might pry into their personal B̴U̴G̵S̶.̵ Clay’s dark colors and silent movements make it clear they are H̷A̴L̶F̵ the shadows of their workshop. The only give away for their presence is the glint of distant light off their teeth and talons, and T̸H̷E̴I̸R̴ S̸O̴N̵G̴.̶ Odd, really, that I̵ H̵A̷T̴E̵ T̷H̸E̵I̸R̸ H̶U̷M̴M̴I̷N̵G̶ so much, especially considering they are often trapped in it. Some hatchlings even love to gossip about the sculptor’s sad eyes, emaciated figure, dark colors, and bloody, torn up throat. Clay has become a regular ghost to the little ones, much to the chagrin of the elders because T̴H̵E̴Y̸ K̶N̸O̷W̵ T̷H̶E̵ T̴R̵U̶T̵H̵.̴ But I don’t mind too much. I’m far too busy to care… D̸E̶F̸E̸N̶D̵I̶N̴G̵ M̸Y̷S̷E̸L̷F̴.̵ D̸E̶F̸E̸N̶D̵I̶N̴G̵ T̵H̴E̴M̴.̴ Clay gets lost in their work. Clay makes hauntingly realistic sculptures in the darkness of their workshop. The only thing that splits the silence is the eerie, haunting humming. Clay’s S̶O̸U̸L̷ is emaciated, covered in scars. S̶T̶I̶L̵L̴ B̵U̶R̵N̶I̷N̶G̷.̵ But they can’t see us. The darkness D̵R̶O̶W̸N̸S̴ M̵E̵ covers much worse than a workshop. Clay’s nightmare is real. Clay is trapped. I am trapped. Help me. I can’t feel anymore. Their souls replaced mine. I̵͈͍̤̝͍̗̻͌͑̑̃͘͠ ̶̟͓̐̚Ç̶̰͚̹̝̏A̷̢͓͉̱̋̎̿̄̐͘͘N̵̢̨̪͐̌͌̀ ̵͙̬̭̗̬̖̖̍̉̂T̴̗̯̜͎͆̾̀̚̕ͅÓ̶̘̞̤̗̠̈̾̊̔͠Ụ̷̙̝̱̞͊̔C̸̡̱͙̾̃̃H̸͍̟̔̌ ̷̻̱͎̌̌̒̇̈́̚T̸̩̊̓͋H̵̬̰̙̻͆̉̎̅̐͝E̶͎̥̰̠͚̓̄̈̓͜ ̸̰̽̈́͋̌̚͜͠͝F̷̠̝̺̕͜͝ͅA̶̪͗̉̈́͘C̶̼̩̺̳̥̖͇̈́̌E̴̜̘̟͎̬̟̯̊̊͐̀̈̕ ̴̯͈͔͖̿͝͠O̴͓̣̫̔͝ͅF̴̺͈͎̺̮̀͗̄͗̐͜ ̶̜͍̀G̴͖͈͇̘̓̿Ō̴̮͈̗͖͕͙͑̅̅D̶̖͍̪̃͂͊.̷̛̘͈͔̠͛̏̈́͜͜͠ Ḓ̴̢̦͉̻̘̂͋̑͋̍̈͝R̴̬̜̻̩̯̹͙̘͆͗A̶͎̙͉̮̣̓̍̋̀͋͝G̷̞̖̰͙̣͔̩̗̞̊ͅ ̶̢͕̖̲̼̪̱̟̤͑͒͊̋͋̑͆̎M̴̢̜̻̠̼̰̹͈͛̐͊̓̀̄̔̒͘Ę̸̺̭͙͙̉̅̿̀̒̾͒͗ ̵̲̹̣̗̰̀̋̐̊͐̄͌̕͜B̶̨͚̳̪̘̬̣̈́͋̐̃͜ͅA̵̧̮͚̞͓̳̬̬͓͠C̸̙̅͛K̵̨̥̦̯̰̝̳͊̉̈ ̴̢̧̓F̸̲̝̯͍͍̙̣̮͖̃͒̏̏͝R̸͖̣͕͙̼͈̰͓̰͗̂̀ͅŐ̷̰̰͔͝M̶̛͈͚͔̦̹̘̒̅̈́̆͝ͅ ̴̞͎͈͓͕̈͌̃͗̕H̶̡͔̙̘̝̤̻͕̄̈́͛̚E̸̡͖̰͈̜͚̱͔̪͍͠R̴̫͐̒͋̚Ȅ̸̡̧̞̮̻̼̠͉̮͂͒̑͑̒̃̔͐̕ |
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Exalting Clay 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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