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Personal Style
Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
10.38 m
Wingspan
7.32 m
Weight
10583.69 kg
Genetics
Charcoal
Phantom (Gaoler)
Phantom (Gaoler)
Smoke
Trail (Gaoler)
Trail (Gaoler)
Shadow
Weathered (Gaoler)
Weathered (Gaoler)
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Gaoler
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
8
AGI
7
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
5
VIT
7
MND
5
Biography
Madrak the Iron-Willed
How do you contain something that has no form?
How does one chain the wind?
How do you shackle the sky?
What cage can hold the morning dew,
for it comes and goes as it pleases.
Rivers can be dammed and fire bound to its source,
but nothing in heaven or earth can trap the dawn.
Shadows dance where they please, ever fleeing the light,
but what can hold it fast?
How does one imprison the form of evil
without taking it on yourself?
Madrak was raised, trained, honed for one purpose.
Trap and contain the greatest of shade-beasts, and bring honor to his order.
At any cost.
So when his order was informed of a fragment of the Shade prowling the Snowsquall Tundra, his squad was sent out to capture it.
But this particular shard had no permanent host, killing and consuming all who tried to hold it, beast or dragon. Trying to contain the Shade without a host would be impossible. If they couldn't contain it and went against it in battle, they would likely all die one by one.
In a moment of reckless passion, Madrak threw himself at the darkness, grasping it with magic in his claws and anger in his blood. Though it seemed impossible, he pulled at it, gathering it together and clutching it to his chest like he could hold it through sheer desire alone.
His squad watched on in awe and horror as the misty darkness seeped into his fur, and their youngest squadmate collapsed before their eyes.
The young Gaoler convulsed as the Shade flowed through him, staining the grey fur of his chest black and staining his pelt with streaks of obsidian black. His mane darkened, and for a moment, he fell still. Before any of his squad could approach him, however, he began to shake again. Darkness erupted from his paws, staining the fur of his limbs, his tail and jaw, a dark purple.
When he finally stopped moving, most of his squad thought for a moment that he was dead.
Those that didn't were convinced that as soon as he awoke, he would attack them.
They chose to restrain him just in case.
But when Madrak awoke, he was not violent, or aggressive. Strangely he still seemed to be himself.
Though the Gaoler no longer spoke, and his eyes betrayed the darkness he now carried, he tolerated his newfound imprisonment in peace.
He could feel it, deep within him. Stirring. Thrashing. Magnifying the worst parts of him, the anger in his veins, the itch for battle in his claws.
It sickened him, knowing what he carried.
He could smell it, that one thing he had been born to destroy. And now he was... infected, with it.
But he wouldn't let it consume him. He couldn't let it escape him.
"Trap and contain.
At any cost."
He left his post, his gaol, his squad, of his own free will; though he was bound in chains, it was nonetheless his choice.
A thing such as him deserved a gaol all of its own.
Such a thing was worthy of the strongest prisons the Icewarden maintained.
He was sent far into the Cloudscrape Crags, told never to return.
Deep beneath Titan's Keep, he can still be found...
...if one can get through the many locks and traps.
Madrak does not take visitors.
Skins for Madrak?:
... If only you could layer accents on ancient breeds.
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Exalting Madrak to the service of the Shadowbinder 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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