Drysk

DRYSK
Alchemist

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This ridgeback's affinity for the arcane and the scientific surprised many of her clanmates when she first met them. Large, spiky, and intimidating, her surprisingly nimble talons weave runes into the air and stir cauldrons full of suspicious-looking goop. Mysterious? Sure. Creepy? Intentionally. She finds it hilarious when the hatchlings whisper amongst themselves about whatever she's brewing up that day, and her clanmates often joke that if they're naughty, they might end up in it next.

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Her two loyal bone-hounds, held together by a hardy amalgamation of arcane magic and alchemical skill. When they're not prowling eerily at her feet, they're jumbled bottles of bones and aura tucked safely away with the rest of her concoctions.

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Dead leaves crunched underfoot as she shifted her weight, peering down at the deserted battlefield. "Found anything yet?" she called to her companions, finishing with a high-pitched, hoarse laugh as she brushed soot from her goggles. Drysk adjusted the strap holding her valued tools to her side and absentmindedly swept her tail through the ash.
"Not yet," the coatl hummed absently, digging with obvious intent through the remains of the encampment. His partner- a brown-and-blue mirror bedecked in bones and feathers- darted excitedly around the edges of the wrecked clearing. Drysk doubted he was less likely trying to find anything than he was still reveling in the thrill of battle, but she would let him have his fun. "Some food, a few weapons, but nothing special."
"Lovely," she grumbled, but tilted her massive head thoughtfully. "Why do you think they wouldn't flee, then? They didn't have any younglings with them, or anything else of real value they were trying to defend. Terribly inconvenient of them, really."
"Perhaps they're just weird!" Aveil chirped up from where he was disturbing a large pile of kindling. "I mean, they are beastclan."
Griffith rolled his eyes, but Drysk didn't seem to object to the idea. The ridgeback shrugged. "Sure, I guess. Just don't tell Drram that, or Maryam, or Ari, or-"
"You two!" their healer snapped, and the two sat bolt upright. "Focus on the task at hand, please." He smoothed his ruffled feathers back with one armored claw and let out a tired sigh. "You two are like hatchlings, I swear." Grumbling resentfully, his companions resumed their original task of scavenging as quickly as possible through the remains. A few minutes of silence passed before Aveil spoke up.
"Uhh, you might want to take a look at this."
"What is it this time?" Drysk grumbled irritably, but whipped her long neck around to see it. Her eyes quickly widened, and Griffith turned to look as well.
"I think I know what they didn't want us to get."
In his talons rested a large, pink egg, humming and spinning with arcane energy.

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HOARDS

Enchanted Remains

Organics

Perfectly preserved... forever.

47

Black Slime

Transmutation

A slippery concoction of black slime. This doesn't look useful at all... but maybe...

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Shadow Serpentskin

Dragonmade

Discreetly gifted to let dragons know there's a snake among the clan. When this warning is not heeded, a live shadow serpent is often the next 'gift'.

26

Purple Sludge

Transmutation

A soupy puddle of purple sludge. If not properly cleaned up, it could threaten to burn a hole in its place.

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Arcane Runestone

Dragonmade

An ancient stone bearing the ancestral rune of the Arcanist. Such a find should be kept as a prized possession.

110

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