Magmortus » Lair » Vesteg

Vesteg

(#48024196)

Level 1 Fae

Familiar

Ashspine Widow

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

1.05 m

Wingspan

0.9 m

Weight

1.02 kg

Genetics

Denim
Wasp

Denim
Bee

Caribbean
Opal

Hatchday

Dec 27, 2018
(5 years)

Breed

Adult
Fae

Eye Type

Water
Rare

Level 1 Fae

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

NAME
Title
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trait • trait • trait

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Surname: -
Gender: -
Pronouns: -
Sexuality: -
Role: -
Theme: ♪♫♪

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^STR
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^INT
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^AGI
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^MAG
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^CHA
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In a run-down shack by the sea, there lives a potter. Among his peers, he is legendary; no fingers are nimbler, no mind sharper than his. It is said that once, long ago, he brought his work before the Eleven, and so beautiful was it that They each beseeched him to become Their personal artisan.

Seeing as he still lives in that run-down shack by the sea, you assume he refused, though you cannot fathom why. As you stand before his abode, taking in the rotting wood and the smell of sun-baked seaweed, you wonder if he even exists at all. Anyone who would return to such a foul place after receiving an offer of servitude to the gods can only be the protagonist of a children’s story, made up to teach hatchlings the value of humility.

Yet, the shanty looks lived-in. There are no footprints in the sand, nor scent of dragon scales, but smoke rises from its rickety chimney in a thin, grey ribbon. Night is falling fast; if you dawdle any longer, the potter will surely send you away. So, steeling yourself, you rap thrice on the makeshift front door.

“If you’re here on business,” a gruff voice replies, “there’s no need to knock.”

You step into the one-room hut, and are startled by how tidy it is. Of course, a shack is a shack, but the potter seems to have a knack for making do. He is dressed nicely as well; although the fabric of his robes is worn at the edges, they shine like stardust, and the gold around his wrists and ankles has been immaculately polished. Wearing such fine garments, surely he could afford a lair to match.

The potter glances up. His eyes are a deep blue; you feel as though you are falling into them. “What do you want?” he asks. “Give me your order and get. I’m busy.”

You tell him that you haven’t any order.

“Then why are you here?” His expression and voice are flat, but you get the sense that he’s agitated. The next moment, you are certain of it. “Do you know how many orders I get in a day?” You shake your head. “Do you know how long it takes me to fill even one of those orders?” You take a step back. “Do you know how to read?”

Bewildered, you tell him, yes, of course you know how to read.

With a snort, the potter clambers to his feet and stalks to the door. He turns back to you holding a sign: “NO ADMITTANCE EXCEPT ON BUSINESS.” You feel your cheeks grow warm with shame; you hadn’t even noticed it hanging there, in plain view. Hoping to save face, you stammer out an excuse about the late hour and the low lighting. You can tell he’s not buying it.

“If you haven’t got an order for me,” he says, “then get.”

You decide it may be best to cut your losses. Apologizing profusely for your intrusion, you make to leave—but something gives you pause. You can’t shake the curiosity eating away at your gut, and if you don't satisfy it now, you're certain it will haunt you for the rest of your life. You apologize again, and start to explain yourself…

...but the potter is gone, and in his place, only stardust remains.

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code by epher #101073
edited by me

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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 Vesteg 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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