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Luvik

(#52054758)

Level 25 Imperial

Familiar

Shattered Serpent

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

21.86 m

Wingspan

17.22 m

Weight

6730.31 kg

Genetics

Hickory
Python

Soil
Morph

White
Ghost

Hatchday

May 23, 2019
(5 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Plague
Swirl

Level 25 Imperial

Max Level

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Odin
Mara

Offspring

none

Biography

__._

Luvik Gula.
↠ Leader of the Village

"And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall..."

Your father is a being of gluttony, a sentence his mother would often times mutter as she pulled the brush through his stubborn mane. He never knew if she meant it in a positive or negative way. As it was, this statement simply...existed. But you have none of his hunger.

This was not true, he wanted to say because he always hungered. No matter how much food disappeared between his teeth, the hole in his stomach would not ease away, would not cease to exist. No food, no comfort, no possession in his hands was ever enough to fill this and as they moved from town to town, his mother and him, he started to suspect it was not just his father that had been a being of gluttony.

His mother was no better, in her wake she left dried up husks, akin to the cocoon from which a butterfly hatches or the spun in corpses of a spider’s dinner. It wasn’t that she showed remorse either, as she sucked the life out of young girls and boys alike, the younger, the better, he only wondered why she kept him around to begin with. There was no active use to having a skittish, young boy with a rotten lung clinging to her skirts. Oh, surely it meant she truly loved him.

Blight had touched him and he had survived, his power tainted, his mother put a spell on him, that only the most unlikely emotion of his could break it. Could free the vile float hidden behind ancient words and humming power, the red of his eyes true to how the land would look after him finding his wrath. As if he could ever find it in him, wrath was too strange a concept for him, why rage when hiding and cowering was easier, better for one’s life span too. His mother taught it to him in how they kept moving, all across the land until, one day, she vanished like the last snow in spring.

On his own, his only company being his hacking cough, he was left to wander aimlessly. Now that he no longer had his mother’s lithe figure to trail after, he picked the brightest, most inviting streets he could find, wandered into Ouroboros by accident, where he acted as an accountant for some time. The methods of the trade suited him, he had a mind for the logistics, his mentor said. Up until they were nowhere to be found, dragged off by the Watchers and for him, the time to leave came.

On his travels, he heard rumors, about a fortress hidden in the woods and a city out of iron, constantly on the move, just like him. Yet when he strayed off the beaten path to find them, all he found were the ruins of an old town. Charred splinters reaching for the heavens akin to blackened fingers, accusing, pointing straight at the one responsible for robbing them of life and laughter and joy. On the remnants of a town’s marker, he could barely make out a name and he would have stayed, had he not heard the drums of the two armies, marching closer and closer to clash in yet another blood soaked confrontation.

Ever the coward, he moved as far away from the capitol and its black skinned twin as possible, chasing after the setting sun until eternal night bled away, became a washed out, soft fogged dawn that never quite went away.

The group he found there, was clearly struggling, held together only by the silver tongued words and heartfelt beliefs of their leader. They had the fertile soil and they had the knowledge, yet they lacked the tools and as he tried to step closer, their ranks only grew tighter, leaving him out in the cold. But that was alright, he told himself, he had seen the ruins of their old lives, he could work to earn their trust.

So he started by opening his ledger. They needed proper housing, they needed a place to store their belongings and a roof over their heads and he knew just the man for this. And as his letters flew out at rapid pace, he also started to set up trading routes with the Empire they still belonged to, he pleaded and waited, wrote and planned, while others worked on the fields and not too long after, a Watcher came to them, with him he brought the acceptance of Luvik’s detailed plan, the deal would be set in motion and their overflow in harvest would bring the town fortune and peace.

People were still suspicious of him and his cough when a sickness came over the town. Knowing the truth behind the sickness’ origins, Luvik reached out to more infernal sources, there was this and the Feast to worry about as well, he searched and dismissed, he knew exactly what he was searching for. A doctor arrived with his two companions not too long after and just like that, the sickness vanished. The mortician took care of the last lingering traces and the Harvest Maiden blessed the fields to tenfold their bountiful harvest.

Yet, all this was still not enough, not even when Erling placed the leader’s coat on his shoulders, people looked up to the older man like he was a hero from ancient tales. It was fine, when Erling was gone, yet the moment he returned, people abandoned Luvik like he was non-existent, his words forgotten, his guiding advice dropped on the ground like something worthless.

Watching the other reap the reward of his hard work caused a spark of unknown emotion within Luvik, not too long and the wholeness of his mind was set ablaze just as the fields of Old Kummerthal had gone up in smoke, he felt the moment his mother’s seal shattered as the taste of blood from his mouth, felt it as rot spread from underneath his feet to consume the whole of this cursed town.

I gave you everything!, he screamed and spat, blood and words and rage alike, tears and flashing fangs, eyes aglow in sickly red that was just not of this world. And his mother’s words came back to him.

Your father is a being of gluttony. He wants it all and he wants it now.

___

code & assets by archaic #19153

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Exalting Luvik to the service of the Flamecaller 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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