Canopus

Favorite Treasures Avian Gemstaff Trinkets While this bejeweled staff doesn't itself carry any magical powers, it appears as though it does. Which might make all the difference to how its wielder fares in battle. 33 Book of Eldritch Horror Trinkets A bit literal. 53 Shadowbinder Onyx Idol Trinkets A razor-sharp onyx idol fashioned to resemble the Shadowbinder. The chiseled surface appears to completely absorb and obscure light. 105 Sparksylph Husk Trinkets A glass mask created by the passage of a sparksylph through sand. Most impressions are not this sharp! 53

Canopus Inner Seat Archmage There are times the only thing to do is flee. There is no shame in living to fight another day.

Though his nest was laid in the Shadowbinder's domain, Canopus was hatched in what would shortly become the Emperor's Wake. Both his parents and the rest of his clutch were killed in the wake of Luminax, so Canopus spent his early life alone. Forced to survive in a devestated landscape, Canopus quickly became skilled in magic, using it to cleanse the poison that tainted the land without fully understanding what it was he was doing. When the resources in his domain grew too few to survive on, Canopus left the Emperor's Wake in search of more fertile lands. His first stop in the realm of Shadow was unpleasant, but the imperial gained a home when Sianal found him injured in the Shrieking Wilds. Now, Canopus is almost entirely nocturnal, preferring to practice his craft in the quieter hours, away from the sunlight he dislikes. Though rarely seen by the majority of the clan, his presence is painfully obvious in the magic of the storms that pass through.

A long flight, an endless journey. A restless soul, ever searching. Countless nights spent wandering among ashen fields, sending stinging embers swirling towards the sky. Too many.

Born in the wake of the birth of an Emperor, Canopus crawled from his egg alone. He crawled from his egg to find the shattered remnants of his siblings' shells, premature limbs tangled among the ruined nest. The young imperial dragged himself away from the structure his parents had built. The massive bodies of Canopus's parents rested outside, their magical prowess failing to save their clutch. The first night was spent under his mother's wing, hiding from the devastation of the land.
Canopus awoke to the feeble light of a chilly dawn. He found himself in a shattered plain, deep scars gouged into the earth, fields of ash flattened by a great wind. The child was alone, helpless, hungry in a world devoid of life. Canopus crept cautiously out under the sky, searching for the source of the devastation. A quiet whimper escaped him. A massive world, crumbled ruins, an orphaned whelp.

It was another full sun-cycle before the babe ventured out from under his mother's wing again. Hunger clawed at his belly. Canopus stumbled out into the plains. Carrion birds circled high overhead, avoiding the moving creature in favor of easier meals. The young imperial's first meal was the charred remains of a nameless beast, tasting of smoke and ash. The scarred wasteland seemed devoid of water. As night fell, Canopus found himself alone in an empty world, cold sky looming over him, frigid moon mocking his loneliness. With the dark, though, came a boon. The young imperial found a broken stone with water collected in the bottom. Not enough to satisfy, but enough to soothe. He curled up inside the stone to await the warmer dawn.

Many days passed in such a manner. Canopus wandered aimlessly, searching for what little sustenance remained. It was not until a full moon passed that the imperial thought of the bodies he first awoke to. The memory was quickly dismissed with the discovery of an injured animal. Living food was to be eaten immediately, lest it not stay that way.

Several times of moon-lack had passed when Canopus discovered fire. No longer a whelp, the imperial was in awe of the thunder and flames. He danced among the sparks, pouncing and rolling and reveling in the stinging of the flames. Magic crackled around him. Dancing, leaping, flying. Canopus discovered the strength of his wings and soared within the storm. When the winds moved, he followed, cavorting through the air. Here, he was wild and free.

After the first storm, Canopus often slept till dusk, preferring to travel in the dark. Flames of mana licked his hide. Embers and sparks of the fires he caused swirled and gathered around his limbs. The great dragon hunted through his domain until the last of the dwindling resources were gone. The ever-present hunger drove Canopus from the plains he had know, flying high and far in search of sustenance. Many nights were spent soaring above the clouds, seeking gatherings of water and prey. When he first found a river, the imperial dove into the waves. For the first time, Canopus could drink his fill. The flames of mana purified the poison in the water. No food was present, but the imperial slept soundly that dawn.

In time, the burned plains gave way to stunted forest, and eventually darkness. Canopus wandered through forests aglow light light, eating his fill at last. The tangled vines and screeching monsters were of little consequence to the bulk of the steely Imperial. Truly, no thorn nor claw nor fang could rend his armored hide. Here, time paused. The dragon knew of no sun or moon. He simply was. Eating, drinking, and resting as he wished. The dark was soothing after the harsh light of the barren fields of Canopus' childhood. It was here, in the forest of plenty, that Canopus first came across others of his kind. The first dragons he came across were soldiers, warriors of the Shadowbinder. Their meaningless babble meant little to the imperial. He chased them away with his magic, sending the small ones skittering away. The imperial lumbered on, sleeping beneath an abnormally large luminescent mushroom. It was in the fading light of dusk that Canopus was awoken by the return of the soldiers. The dragons attacked, tearing at his hide, ripping through his scales with claws of shadow and creatures made from darkness. Releasing raw magic, Canopus blindly lashed out and fled the darkness. Launching himself into the air, the imperial beat his attackers into the ground with massive gusts of wind. The smaller, more agile dragons tried to grab Canopus, but were blasted out of the air by the crackling flames of mana that wrapped the limbs of the imperial.

Canopus fled across a channel of water larger than any he had seen before, to lush green pools filled with young clans. The smaller dragons fled from the imperial, and so he continued on. When his injuries proved too much, Canopus was forced to land deep in a forest choked with growth and howls of unseen predators. Canopus lost consciousness on a charred riverbank, where the ashy scent reminded him of the home he had left behind.

When the imperial next awoke, he was inside an unnatural structure. A strange material was wrapped around his wounds. Panicked, he surged to his feet and lunged for a gap in the wood, only to slip and collapse as a wave if vertigo swept over him. Canopus smelled blood, and pain lanced through his body. A creature of stars entered, and Canopus lashed his paw through the form. A miffed expression approximated on the being. It crooned a collection of sounds. Canopus snarled as he scrabbled backwards. He hissed, and spat, and swiped when the dragon-shape came near. The star creature retreated. It returned with a minuscule creature. It hummed and danced. Lithely slipping between the swipes of the imperial, it landed and placed a tiny talon on Canopus's forehead.
"Yah here me now?"
Canopus reared in surprise, flinging off the creature. The noise had meaning!
"I take that as a yes. I'm Sianal a fae, and that's Kentaurus, an imperial like you. Y'know different breeds, right?" The small creature raised himself off the floor, rubbing his head between the impressive answers sprouting from his skull.
Canopus hissed in response, summoning the mana to flame around his body again.
"Woah, there, no panic." The creature of stars stepped around, interposing itself between the two. "Sianal placed a spell to enable to understand our language. You sh-" Canopus roared and launched himself at the creature, fangs bared. Once again, he passed through. The small creature squeaked and launched itself aside to avoid being crushed. The imperial crashed into the wall, shaking the structure and causing a shallow, concave stone to fall to the ground.
"Oy! You almost crushed me!" The small one fluttered to the head of the star creature and rested between its horns.
"Hey now-You need to stop. You'll bleed out at this rate, your wounds aren't even closed yet!" Canopus snarled at the creature and pressed himself against the wall. "Stop lunging around, or I'll have to have to sit on you to stop your wriggling." The star creature lowered its head, gazing into his eyes. "Do you know where you are?" Canopus considered this statement, then shook his head.
"Can you tell us your name?" The small one inquired. Again, Canopus shook his head.
"Do you know what we are?" The star one asked. The response was yet again the same. The star creature heaved a great sigh, then carefully laid itself down on the ground. "Very well then. What do you know?"
Canopus considered this for a moment.
"Death has three heads. Clean water is important, food is better live. Little-people-that-speak from the night-light-forest don't like me." The imperial carefully shifted to lessen the weight on his injuries. The star one-Kentaurus-blinked.
"Well, guess I'll tell you everything then.'