Nergis
(#47609569)
Level 1 Coatl
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Male Coatl
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.41 m
Wingspan
7.56 m
Weight
763.95 kg
Genetics
Midnight
Jaguar
Jaguar
Midnight
Rosette
Rosette
Sky
Ghost
Ghost
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Coatl
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
7
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
5
MND
6
Biography
Nergis
born Aimon
The Frigid Necromancer
A Tale of Lost Souls Found
I have traveled far. I've heard rumors of clans coming to the Icefields in search of missing clanmates, friends, or even bounties of rogues long lost to the cold. I'm here as well, for the same reason as they.
Well, almost.
They seek to find their kin, running through the snow as lively as before. They hope to find friends or family huddled in a gully, somehow beating the odds of the Icewarden himself. They pray they’ll find their ever-so-precious drakes alive and well, be it for kinship or for the hefty pile of treasure they’ll receive in return for their services. I wish for none of these things. No, I search, but not for the living.
I have raised many from the ice, some faring better than others when it comes to how well-preserved they are. Sometimes, all I find are bones in the ice. Others I swear may still be alive if it weren’t for the glaze in their eyes. Some awaken much like drakes who had only fallen asleep, simply asking where their kin are and why everything seems so different. Others seem to know what happened, and ask me if this is their respective afterlives. Some are happy to hear the truth. Others… I sometimes have to give up on them, as their panic gets them killed time and time again upon realizing I brought them back to the land of the living.
Recently, I swapped tales with a blind Necromancer from another clan, one who had fancied a return to her old home in the hills of Ice. She said she was there to practice her craft on any clanmates that fell to the cold, but something tells me her ways differ from mine. After all, hers come back healed and sound of mind. Mine aren’t always so lucky. It was nice to hear from her, however, and to learn that there was such a large clan out there interested in the icy mounds in the fields.
They said they weren’t looking for kin in the snow, but to save anyone there as they searched for a new home. Some wanted to go to the lands of the Shadowbinder instead of the Icewarden, but apparently they aren’t leaving until both their leaders return. I sometimes wonder if that leader got lost out here. She sounds smart and wise, and she would make a good addition to my following.
I stop at a mound, a faint tingle running through my wings. There is a spirit trapped in the ice. No, there are multiple! I sift the snow off the mound, eager to add this powerful spirit to my ranks. I stop, however, when I finally see the flash of fur. Striped, white and grey, with faint hints of icy blue, but those jagged horns and long teeth are unmistakable. This is no dragon from my time. This one is a Gaoler! I can see three others behind him, and judging by their size, the one before me now is but a hatchling, yet the power of these spirits shows that even the youngest of this breed were stronger than any Tundra found today. I feel my excitement mount at the realization, and I prepare my etching of runes to begin the ritual of reviving this lost spirit. Before I can speak, however, something catches my eye.
Something moved.
I look back up, and my crest falls back in terror at the sight. The paws are still frozen, mighty claws extended to slash at an unseen foe. Scars still rip through his thick, tangled mane, and the armor on his thick form shows no sign of rust. The others are still as well, one marked with patches of red, one a silvery grey, and one as blue as the sky yet slender as a Spiral. But that is not what sends me away from the ice, repressing a screech of terror. It isn’t even the impression of shed antlers in the ice, as if multiple Imperials had fallen here as well.
No, it is much worse.
The young one has opened his eyes.
They’re alive.
I am a necromancer, and I work with the dead. Let others find the abominations lost in the ice that still hold life in their limbs. Until death has numbed them, I will not even attempt to add them to my ranks.
I am the necromancer of the cold, and so long as warmth runs in their veins, they are not mine to take.
I believe I will find this clan again, and ask to join them. I might need a small respite from my old haunts in the Icewarden’s domain, before I accidentally free his own prisoners while they still live and breath.
Yes, I will go, and I can only hope I never see those frightening abominations ever again.
This dragon's story is just beginning !
I am the necromancer of the cold. I raise the dead who have been frozen in time. The souls who are lost to the silent, frigid winds. My armies know no trouble of the arctic ice and will slow even the largest of enemies. Night or day, we will not fall.
The enemies fall,
into my hands.
That of the dead,
will rise as planned.
Forgotten, maybe, but forever cold as ice,
which then will rise up thrice.
My frozen necros will dance in the fallen,
destroying those who appose our calling.
Adopted from the Writer's Hatchery
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Exalting Nergis to the service of the Icewarden 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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