Opus
(#51042191)
Level 1 Spiral
Familiar
Spirit of Shadow
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Male Spiral
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
2.52 m
Wingspan
3.33 m
Weight
81.93 kg
Genetics
Iris
Vipera
Vipera
Obsidian
Stripes
Stripes
Blackberry
Okapi
Okapi
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Spiral
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
5
AGI
9
DEF
5
QCK
8
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
6
Lineage
Biography
song ~ Dance of the Shadows
"Sweet dreams..."
|
THE PERPLEXING SPYMASTER of the Valley. He works closely with the rest of its' leaders, having eyes and ears in all directions. Mr Opus himself is a little erratic and vague until provoked, which makes him rather firm in his way of handling trouble. He likes to smoke a platinum-covered pipe shaped like a wendigo's head. The purple smoke it emits has strange properties, or so gossip says. Opus is a whimsical, undisturbed creature. You can surprise him, but disgusting him is a tough job. The spiral has no issues with putting himself through seedy business if it gets him what he wants. Has some sewing skills acquired from making voodoo dolls. A surprisingly small amount of people in the Valley know that Opus is a multigaze dragon. It can be chalked up to the fact that he often covers all of his eyes as the almost compound-eye effect they provide is distracting and annoying among the valley's many lights. He doesn't elude to it often, but it seems his multigaze trait has either given Opus some kind of third (or fourth, or fifth, or 27th) eye. It only opens in dreams, where the spiral dreams of cosmic happenings and things beyond understanding. He has several journals to keep the finds written down in. |
reference
art: X X
POOR ARE THOSE
WHO HAVE EYES BUT CANNOT SEE
|
Born to a small, obscure, rag-tag clan of dragons, Opus and his mother (plus some friends) led a somewhat nomadic lifestyle. Dressed in billowing cloaks and hoods, they gathered what they could from the Tangled Wood and got coins tossed at them for telling fortunes. Otherwise, the clan rarely met with outsiders. Hidden deep within Shadowbinder's realm, they kept mostly to the west edge of the Forum. Opus was born multigaze, somewhat of a rarity. There were a few others in this clan, and they were all gifted with some kind of sight. Everybody explained it in their own way, but the multigaze dragons agreed on one thing unanimously: whatever they saw, it was not of Sornieth in the slightest. Others knew this. Life was relatively peaceful, up until Opus was kidnapped at 13 by a caravan of travelling scientists, alchemists and doctors. He wasn't alone in their cages - there were other dragons, some with unusual defects and some other multigaze individuals. The oldest one must've been 20. The following four years of Opus' life were stocked with fear, pain and escapism. Multiple operations, attempts to open his skull in search for eyes on the inside - the caravan even plucked some of the little spiral's tail eyes out. Among the suffering and quiet whimpers of captivity, Opus had met a girl from the Windswept Plateau with goat eyes and polydactyly. They had become friends, a welcome change of pace. She was about the same age as him. They huddled against each other through the bars, fighting fear rather than the night's chill. During these years, Opus also developed some impressive escape skills. He had broken out and escaped the caravan numerous times - once by cutting a hole through the wooden floor and another by creating a makeshift lockpick and unlocking his cell. Unfortunately, the spiral was recaptured each time, but the longest he was away during that time was a month. Opus' final days at the caravan came when his friend never returned to her cell. Solving yet another lock, he snuck out to the operation rooms to find her pinned and dead. Furious, the spiral struck a match and set the caravan ablaze. Grabbing nothing but a stack of his confiscated drawings from a shelf, he ran deep into the Tangled Wood. After a few days' worth of wandering around the grove and pushing through brambles, the spiral crashed in between the roots of a mighty tree. Opus was tired, hungry, alone. Who knew what had happened to his clan during these four years? He couldn't exactly risk going back - what if they weren't there anymore? It was a cold night, and he hated the cold. Always did. It made Opus shut down rather quickly. |
He awoke to a horned silhouette staring at him from across a campfire. Initially, fear gripped the spiral - but he quickly grew more suspicious than scared. If it was somebody from the caravan he would've been in a cell, not among tree roots. What looked like an imperial with his face obscured by a dark hood gestured to a bowl of stew on the fire. But Opus knew better than that - it could've been drugged. He posed the stranger a challenge. Something fresh to eat. Not prepared, and preferably plucked straight from the area. The imperial obliged, commented on the spiral's sly manner and brought Opus some blackberries. He introduced himself as Azoth, a wandering magician to some, teacher to others. He said he had apprentices under his care, not far from here, in Wispwillow Grove. Animated by the fire's heat and a bit of food, Opus asked a few additional probing questions before agreeing to also be Azoth's apprentice. The imperial had some small sheds in a darker part of Wispwillow Grove, and true to his word, there were other apprentices there. Notably a skydancer girl and a wildclaw boy. They seemed to be about Opus' age, dressed in billowing robes reminiscent of the spiral's childhood. But they had books and daggers secured to their belts instead of herbs and hatchets. They carried alchemical equipment, brewed colorful concoctions over the fire and chanted spells that weren't prayers to the Shadowbinder. The spiral quickly found his spot in affinity for complicated, utilitarian magics that focused on manipulation rather than healing or means of attack or defense. Opus proved to be adept in running circles around the other apprentices during training hours, and occasionally he managed to trick Azoth. He also had a fondness for herbs - putting whatever he remembered from his upbringing to use. The skydancer girl, Caiope, took an interest in the multigaze dragon. Opus didn't mind her, and they often spent evening hours watching the sun go down like a glowing ember beyond the horizon. They discussed spells and potions, simple and complex, bad and good. Caiope would often start competitions on who could pick most of the rarest herb while foraging, and Opus incited games of hide and seek. All in all, they were occasionally accompanied by the wildclaw who served as something of an elder brother to both. Many apprentices left. Some by will, some Azoth sent away because he considered them ready. The years flew by, Opus and Caiope had grown into lovers and soon it was only them and the aging imperial left. The trio worked rather efficiently on their remedies and spells. During this whole time, however, Opus had never disclosed the "sight" his multigaze card granted him. He never showed anybody his old or new sketches either - pictures and verses about dreams he'd experience during the deep hours of the night. But one such night, he woke up to find both Azoth and Caiope gone without a trace. Fires extinguished, equipment taken and books snatched. Nothing was left in the huts, only Opus and his stack of drawings. They had been rummaged through, and after this night, the spiral resolved to trust even less. He was alone in the Tangled Wood for not a second or even a third time. Alone, sad and angry. Wrapped up in a dark cloak and clutching the drawings, he was winding through his birth region again. Alone. The worn canvas boots could barely hold against the thorny blanket of Foxfire Bramble. Opus was startled, however, when he suddenly hit stone instead of dirt and spikes. A staircase, descending infinitely into the dark. What did he have to lose at this point? While the path may have been uncomfortably dark to most dragons, Opus' many eyes picked up light somewhat more effectively. It felt like it went on forever. Was this a portal to a different world, perhaps? Could he find peace there? Just as these thoughts crossed the spiral's mind, however, the floor evened out. He had arrived to a pillar hall lit with glittering, cold foxfire. There was little here but a heavy double door right across, and a single guard with his face obscured by a hood. Despite that, Opus felt the stare. He had come to the Lavender Valley. An oldish Shadow clan, dedicated viciously to the Shadowbinder and having fun. Opus could get on board with that. |
And the rest is history.
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