Oboro

Be sure to visit:

Oboro's egg was found discarded on the side of a woodland path by a nomadic clan of Wildclaws and Mirrors. Since the moment she hatched she was always the odd one, being the only Imperial in a practically feral clan, she had always been looked down upon, always the last picked for the hunting parties, always left behind. It didn't help that her colors made for bad camouflage, she had always wondered if she had been born with natural browns and greens like her brethren perhaps they would have accepted her. Maybe if the white splotches, rather than morphing and shifting along her wings and mane, were stationary things would've been different.

Oboro wanted to be accepted by her clan with all her heart. She trained twice as hard as anyone, she fought with a hundred percent vigor at all times; she became wilder and more feral than anyone in her clan. News spread across the Viridian Labyrinth of a vicious Imperial that could outrun a Mirror, and take down prey and enemies more efficiently than a Wildclaw. When they passed through other clans to trade there were remarks of how she was feral, and disturbing. But, alas, it didn't matter; her clan ostracized her, and she had no one.

In a last attempt gain the acceptance of her clan she left, promising to return in a few months. Now all of Sornieth had heard the name Oboro, but not as a proficient hunter, instead as a pillager. She wreaked havoc across the Viridian Labyrinth, and the border of Dragonhome. Burning clans to the ground and taking all they had, anyone who tried to fight her never lived to see the next morning. Oboro was numb to the world in her desperation to prove herself, she felt no guilt for the awful things she did, no remorse for the grief she caused. She told herself as long as her clan accepted her, it would all be worth it. But they never did, they hissed when she returned. With a hoarse voice she asked why they hated her so much; her brethren exchanged glances among themselves, many of them stated that an Imperial could never be as vicious as a Wildclaw, or ferocious as a Mirror. But one voice stood out: the clan leader, a particularly large Mirror with rotted teeth, looked her dead in the eyes and with his rasping voice he hissed,

"You are too odd."

If not for the guilt that crushed the breath from her body she would have slaughtered the entire lot of them. She had done so many horrible, horrible things for naught. She launched herself into the sky, her heart shattering her ribs and her paws trembling.

She flew for days and days, raking her brain for a way to atone for all she had caused. Then she couldn't fly anymore, her wings ached and her throat was so parched the air seared its way to her lungs. She set down in a small field in the center of a gigantic forest, she looked at the crumbled well in the center and sighed, shambling into the trees she found a stream and drank deeply. When she had her fill she fell back on her haunches, staring into the trees. She still had no clue how she could atone for her misguided past. Oboro shot up to her feet, she had seen something glint in the shadows. She called out, demanding to know who was there, prepared for a fight she set her stance.

It was a Skydancer, he was pretty small and his wings were quite short. He was definitely plague, which struck Oboro as strange, The Scarred Wasteland was very, very far away. He introduced himself as Azure and so she told him her name, he tilted his head for he knew of her. He inquired why she was in this forest, Oboro admired that he was unafraid, and so she told him. He deliberated on her desire for atonement, and she thought he acted more like a light or arcane dragon than a plague.

"Have you seen the well?" He asked her. She told him that she had, and he looked at her expectantly, "What do you think of it?" He said, she told him that it would never work again and that it would crumble until it was dust, "Perhaps it could have a different purpose?" He stated, he stared at her, unblinking for long enough to make her uncomfortable. The words of her old clan leader rung in her head, and this strange Skydancer with wings far too small to allow him flight burned in her eyes.

"It will be a beacon," She breathed. And with those hushed words the clan Field Well was born.