Countessoffire » Lair » Cornelius

Cornelius

(#54309248)

Give me a firm spot to stand and I shall move the earth.

Mikoto

Scorchpaw Prowler

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

9.99 m

Wingspan

3.99 m

Weight

9050.93 kg

Genetics

Black
Bar (Gaoler)

Black
Bee (Gaoler)

Hatchday

Aug 09, 2019
(4 years)

Breed

Adult
Gaoler

Eye Type

Nature
Unusual

Level 1 Gaoler

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Natalia

Biography

Cornelius Rutherford

Lore

"Oh Baby Corn!"
That cheerful voice of his adopted mother, combined with that atrocious nickname, grated on Cornelius' ears. His body curled up tighter in his nest. His forepaws cradled his spell book and pulled it closer. He shot his nastiest glare over his shoulder at the Imperial standing at the entrance to his den.
His adopted mother tilted her head and her smile faltered before coming back brighter than ever. "I want you to put down that smelly old book and come help me at market!"
Cornelius whipped his head back to his book. "No, I am studying."
"Whatever for," questioned his adopted mother, "Our clan hasn't needed a mage in centuries! All is well! Come on, help me set up the chairs and tables. I need those brawny shoulders of yours with your father-"
Cornelius spat, "He is not my father!"
His paw slammed his spellbook shut. He frowned and his brow creased. His paw stroked the fragile binding of the leather cover. He felt his anger return twofold and he stood up abruptly. His wings stretched before folding onto his back. He took several heated breaths before his ire settled. His head slowly turned and he walked the rest of his body around to face his adopted mother.
His frown met her wavering smile. Cornelius could see the water in her eyes. He felt a twinge of regret but it was short lived. His voice was crisp even to his own ears, "Are the chairs and tables at least on the wagon?"
Light returned to his mother's eyes and her nod was swift. "Yes," she said, "I will just need help towing the wagon and offloading them. Oh I can just feel it Baby Corn! Today is going to be such a good day for sales! I hear the monks from the Windswept Plateau are in the markets looking for druid fashioned furniture!"
Cornelius shoved his way passed his gushing guardian. His head was bowed and his shoulders hunched. His heavy pawsteps rattled the simple floorboards of his adopted parents' home. He pushed through the vines that acted as a curtain for the entrance and walked into bright, dappled sunlight. The tree canopy was awash with bright colors. His adopted mother had one thing right. It was a beautiful, clear day.
The wagon with the wares that his mother aimed to sell was standing off to the side. It was custom, crafted to fit his size so that he could help out. Cornelius hated it. He approached the wagon's tow bars and slid underneath. He shifted his wings to grip the handles designed for them. He pushed forward when he heard his adopted mother's excited chirping.
The clan they lived with was situated in a beautiful glen. The lairs were all covered in thick vines and other foliage. The smells of well seasoned food wafted in the air. The sunlight illuminated the stone cut path with beautiful light. Some of the quartz was too bright and made Cornelius squint until he passed. The market was ahead. He could hear the jovial voices of clan member and visitor alike. He knew where his mother's stall was and towed the wagon through the back paths to reach it. Her stall was in the middle of the market, the bustling epicenter of commerce for the clan.
Cornelius' mind shut down. His movements were mechanical as he helped his adopted mother offload the wares. She would arrange the pieces how she wanted, gushing and harking to the passerby about her beautiful furniture. Cornelius laid down to hide behind one of the large ornate folding screens that his mother made. It still smelled of cedar, which was such a pleasant smell to Cornelius. It was one of the few things about his mother's craft that he liked. The woods she used were always so fragrant.
"Psst," hissed a voice from the back paths, "Hey, psst! Corn!"
Cornelius' ears folded and his lip curled. "What do you want Percy?"
Percy was the equivalent to the village delinquent. His large, bright green spiral eyes gleamed with mischief. "Another patrol of Seekers is coming! Want to go see them?"
Cornelius sighed. "Anything to get me out of here."
"Let's go then," hissed Percy, "Before your Big Mama notices!"
Cornelius kept low to the ground and slunk away from the stall. He was on Percy's tail the entire way as they made their way toward the entrance to the glen. They settled into the foliage and watched. It did not take long for Cornelius to spot the pale, waving pelts of the Gaoler Seekers marching toward the glen.
"That's the third patrol this month," hissed Percy, "Do you think more shadebeasts are popping up? Hey, you're a Gaoler. Shouldn't you know Corn?"
Cornelius snapped, "Be quiet. There might be a shadebeast but it might just be some really bad criminal too. Gaolers are wardens for the large jails in the Southern Icefield...the Seekers could be here for a rest as they travel..."
Percy hummed, "So basically you don't know."
Cornelius curled his lip. "I never claimed to know."
Percy's eyes gleamed. "How come you never leave with them? With the magic you got, I bet you could hunt shadebeasts!"
Cornelius watched the Gaoler Seeker patrol draw closer. "Believe me, I wouldn't-"
A sharp shove sent Cornelius stumbling forward. The knoll he and Percy had been hiding on had a steep slope and Cornelius' paw landed wrong. His grip slipped and he careened down the slope. Branches snapped and whipped at his face. He could hear Percy laughing in the distance but the harsher laugh of the Gaolers.
Snorting and tossing his head, Cornelius whipped his head up to glare at the laughing Gaolers. The patrol numbered around three. Two of the Gaolers had been laughing but the oldest of the trio stared at Cornelius levelly. The leader of the patrol was a scarred old beast, his snowy pelt shimmered in the dappled sunlight.
"Hm," hummed the leader of the patrol, "Nothing more than a child. That was quite the tumble you took lad. Are you injured?"
Cornelius rose to his paws and lifted his head. "I am fine, a small stumble. That was all. Thank you for your concern."
The leader of the patrol nodded. "A strong will burns in you child, I can see it in those eyes. Perhaps you should be heading back to your parents?"
Cornelius shook his head. "No," he said, "I do not want to go back there. I wish to join your patrol."
Cornelius' stomach sank. He saw the mirth glittering in the leader of the patrol's eyes. He heard the hoarse laughter of the other two Gaolers. Cornelius let out a frustrated growl. "Don't laugh at me! I can fight!"
The leader of the patrol's lips twitched. "Is that so? You are still a child. You do not have a designation."
That caught Cornelius' attention. His head tilted. "What do you mean by designation? I was raised by an Imperial and a Nocturne. I'm the only Gaoler living in this clan. This is the first that I've heard of this."
The leader of the patrol looked Cornelius over. He followed up with a soft nod. "Hm, you are old enough to receive your designation, to be assigned to an order...You must travel to the Fortress of Ends and seek out the Elders of the Orders. You will be tested and your skills appraised. The Elder of the Order that wishes to have you will offer a position in that order to you. Now, my patrol and I have delayed too long. We must part ways. Good luck young one."
Cornelius was still processing the instructions but he whipped his head around when the Gaoler patrol passed him. "I - uh - Thank you!"
As if being humiliated in front of a Gaoler patrol wasn't enough, Cornelius spotted the pale scales of his adopted mother running his way. A low groan rumbled through his entire frame.
His adopted mother shrieked, "Cornelius! There you are! How could you abandon me at the stall like that! You horrible layabout, what were you doing out here playing in the woods for? I need your help! A group of monks wanted to buy the low sitting table arrangement and...and...ugh! I am so mad you can't even believe! Come! NOW!"
In the end, the monks were satisfied and happy with their purchase. They left the market stall with a jovial wave of their wings and walked off with their new table set. Cornelius on the other paw knew the firestorm that was going to come at him when he got home with his adopted mother. He helped her clean up the stall and take the unsold merchandise home. The minute they were both inside their lair, Cornelius felt his adopted mother's angry eyes fixated on him.
"Explain yourself," she said, "Now."
Cornelius met his adopted mother's glare with one of his own. "I went to see the Gaoler Seeker patrol with Percy. The little snake-"
His adopted mother interrupted him. "You know I despise that little Spiral. He is nothing but a bad influence on you, son. And a Seeker patrol also? No son of mine is going to join that messy group of mongrels."
Cornelius felt heat rise under his pelt. The fur along his spine bristled and his lips curled. Did his ears really just catch that? Right out of his caretaker's mouth? "Mongrels...is that it? So....I am just some mongrel you and that worthless slob you called a mate just happened to pick up? A lost puppy that you thought you could just take in and nurse back to health?"
His adopted mother's eyes widened. Her head hastily shook side to side. "No, no. I... my anger got to me Baby Corn... You're not a mongrel. I've raised you better than that..."
Cornelius lifted his head and swung his antlers at the painting of his adopted father. The harsh clatter of the canvas meeting wood was the only sound in the lair. Cornelius turned his glare back onto his adopted mother. His anger burned in his veins. His pelt bristled and his claws itched to sink into something. His voice came from deep in his chest, the low rumble made him feel so amazing and powerful, "I've always hated that nickname..."
With a snort, Cornelius whipped away from his adopted mother and stomped toward his nest. He plucked his spellbook and his satchel from his small collection of practical things. He slung the satchel over his neck and gently put his spellbook inside. Cornelius marched toward the exit.
His adopted mother's meek voice sounded from behind him, "Wait...Cornelius... Please... I'm sorry..."
Cornelius felt his anger simmer down. His pelt relaxed and his ears folded down. He felt his brow crease and his wings shudder to get comfortable. Cornelius murmured, "I'm sorry too...but I think it is for the best if we don't see each other for a while...You'll be ok...You're stronger than you think..."
Cornelius stepped outside into the darkness before his adopted mother could catch him in her paws. He heard the thump behind him telling him that she tried to catch him. Cornelius shook his head. He needed to do this. He needed to prove to the others of his kind that he was not a child. More importantly, he needed to prove it to himself.

Additional Information

....
The New Age

The Night's Watch - Seeker

. . . .

The Titan Age
Cornelius was not hatched in this bygone era.

The Pantheon Age
Cornelius was not hatched in this bygone era.

The New Age
Cornelius is unsure of how he came to live with his so-called parents. Adopted parents really. He couldn't stand the lifestyle that his adopted parents developed and forced him to abide by. It was too stationary, too stagnant. He was a born mage, a powerful Gaoler. His ancient blood called for the Southern Icefields, to know his designation.
He desired adulthood.
Many a time a passing Gaoler through the Viridian Labyrinth would comment on how he wasn't an adult. He had no designation, no purpose. So, he left. On his way to the Southern Icefield he stopped to rest in the Starfall Isles. The strange colors of the Starwood Strand were mesmerizing to say the least. Not as mesmerizing as the Gaoler he met there. Ardens'Cor Leanne. To say that he was smitten was an understatement. He was stunned by her proud bearing and yet how easily she could be so beautifully playful. Her natural affinity to combat was also extraordinary. When he heard that she was just like him, no designation, he insisted that she join him. It took some work but he convinced her and her brother to join him on his pilgrimage. It shocked him even further when they all became Seekers. They were their own team and could do as they wished.
Which suited Cornelius just fine. The ancient knowledge that Sanguinem Luna Clan gathered throughout time was extraordinary. He could learn of battling the shadebeasts from the actual mages that performed the feat. He took an affinity to the Night's Watch, lead by a very knowledgeable relative of Ardens'Cor Leanne and her brother; their Aunt Luna'Spiritus. Cornelius found the lifestyle much more suitable to his tastes. He could study during the day then work at night. He didn't even mind the ruler, Tenebris'Cor. It was Tenebris'Terra, the mate of Tenebris'Cor, that set Cornelius' blood ablaze. He hated to see Ardens'Cor Leanne, or more often than not Audens'Cor Ladarius, take the punishing ire of the Queen. The strength these dragons had though. It was on another level. Cornelius could only hope that he would learn from them and grow just as strong.

Mikoto the Scorchpaw Prowler
Mikoto is Cornelius' Scorchpaw Prowler. He met her during his travels and took her in when she injured her paw in a hunt. Ever since then, they've been inseparable. Cornelius will not admit it openly but he loves to spend hours with a book while Mikoto snuggles on top of his back. In combat these two are a terrific team. Cornelius will augment Mikoto's strength and speed with his spells. He will command vines and other vegetation to grapple foes to give Mikoto the chance she needs to strike.

Customization Goals

Complete!

Relations

Mother:
Emiri

Father:
Unknown

Wife:

Romantic Interest/Best Friend:
Ardens'Cor Leanne

Friend:
Audens'Cor Ladarius

Friend:
Thea

Captain:
Luna'Spiritus

Enemy:
Tenebris'Cor

Translation

None

Pronunciation

Cor-KNEEL-E-us

Physical Sornieth Species

Gaoler

True Species

Mortal Gaoler

The Word Around Sornieth

Not From Anywhere

Magna'Mater wrote:

She's trying to make bio layouts again!

Not from Anywhere

Magna'Patrem wrote:

Run for your lives!

Library

Relevant Music Based on Theme
Insert Music Here
Suggested By

...

Written Works by Other Users

You have never fit in here,
Caught between your mother and the unknown
Magic was always a language you understood
The feel of old pages
and the smell of cedar
The world a call you always wanted
To heed

One day you took up
Your spellbook and your satchel
Determined to prove to the world
That you existed
and to prove to yourself
That you were ready for this
And so you were

Now you seek the shade at night
And learn during the day
Once more listening to the language of magic
Though the smell of cedar is absent
You stand strong with others beside you
And she is beautiful and brave
And maybe, one day,
You will be just as strong as she

~Written by Ebony3

...

Questions Asked and Answered

YarnDrawcia wrote on 2020-12-18 12:09:21:

@/Countessoffire

Did you ever regret having that argument with your adoptive mother?

Most of my lore dragons are in the hibden, but some are in my lair! Please don't ask Creeper and AwwMan, they're joke/offspring list project dragons.

Piercing green eyes glittered like knife edges beneath Cornelius’ dark mane. He tossed his head and his nostrils flared.

A long sigh combined with the notes of a growl answered, “Why does every dragon under the sun ask me that? How is that such common information? She and I were alone when it happened for Gladekeeper’s sake! No! I don’t have any regrets.”

...

Artwork

by Jouska28

...

Moodboard made by Zantana

...

Many thanks to this thread and the artists that contributed to it for being such a great graphics resource!

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Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.

Exalting Cornelius to the service of the Icewarden 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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