EctaviusPlasmus
(#57043266)
Level 4 Bogsneak
Familiar
Algae-Bottom Slarg
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Water.
Male Bogsneak
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.62 m
Wingspan
8.31 m
Weight
914.09 kg
Genetics
Mantis
Slime
Slime
Mantis
Sludge
Sludge
Pear
Stained
Stained
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 4 Bogsneak
EXP: 1540 / 4027
STR
10
AGI
10
DEF
12
QCK
12
INT
10
VIT
12
MND
10
Biography
EctaviusPlasmus
Gummy Bard 
There was a din of voices, happy conversations and laughs mixed in with the clink of chalices and utensils during a feast for celebration. Smells of all types permeated the air, causing any dragon’s mouth to water. The clan was celebrating the birth of a special hatchling, whose eyes displayed a blessing from the Plaguebringer, and had asked all the artisans, musicians, and cooks to assist in the event.
Ectavius was happy to provide his skills as a bard, and he had sung to heart’s content as a band accompanied him. However, his voice was getting hoarse, so he stepped away to find a drink to soothe his throat. The rest of the musicians were handling the music well, playing a musical jig that other dragons hopped, skipped, and danced to. Ectavius laughed at the Snapper whose moves were cankerous, causing a nearby pair of Faes to fall off their chairs. The Bogsneak finally reached the two large barrels of wine, freshly moved from the cellars to be used for a festivity such as this one. The Guardian saw him, gave a nod, and began to fill a chalice with wine. Ectavius accepted the chalice gratefully and decided to down its contents in one gulp.
The Guardian’s eyes widened upon seeing this, and he said, ‘Easy, friend. That stuff is a wee bit strong. Maybe you should eat something from the table...’ ‘Har, har!’ laughed the Bogsneak, ‘You sayin’ I can’t hold this fine wine?’ and he walked away from the Guardian towards the edge of the party to get some fresh air, bumping into a few dragons on the way. The Guardian shook his head, mumbling under his breath, ‘Youngters…’ and resumed to wiping the returned chalices.
Ectavius enjoyed the warmth in his belly from the drink, but the edges of his vision began to blur and his steps became unsteady. Someone yelped just beside him. “Pardon me,” he apologized to the Tundra whose tail he stepped on. The Tundra gave an angry look but returned to his conversation. Thankfully, there were not many more dragons he had to apologize to before he was alone with the lights, sounds, and smells at his back. It was a little bit colder too, with winds that gave a slight chill down a dragon’s spine.
Suddenly, a larger gust blew the hat from Ectavius’ head, and the Bogsneak stumbled after it. The darkness made it difficult to see where he was going, but when the hat seemed to hang midair long enough, he took the opportunity to leap for it. Aha! The hat was enclosed between his claws, but the ground beneath him felt as though it was completely taken away. Down Ectavius fell, until he landed with a thud. Thankfully, there was sand that coated the bottom and absorbed most of the impact of his fall.
Rubbing his sore rump, the Bogsneak attempted to squint and discern his new surroundings. It was too dark to see much of anything, although the damp and rotting smell attacked his nose with a vengeance. As he slowly turned in place, Ectavius then noticed a slight glimmer ahead. Maybe a way out? He took a step, but was greeted by a liquid-like “slurp” sound. It made him pause both in fear and confusion...and it was all he had, that moment, before something cold and damp enveloped him.
Soon, his scales felt like they were ablaze, but he was unable to move to itch them, let alone escape. The pain intensified, and the Bogsneak more violently tried to pull himself free, jerking his limbs. It was to no avail and soon he passed out, leaving his limp form within the slime that was devouring him.
Reality was like a blank, black page – a void without anything to sense or feel. However, a consciousness emerged, like a very dull ember.
“Who am I?” It grew brighter as time went on until the reality was embodied by it.
“I am Ectavius.” Memories flooded the scene, creating a vibrant tapestry that made up the Bogsneak’s sense of self.
“What happened?” A fun night, a hearty drink, a strong breeze, reaching out to catch a hat, falling into a void, and being engulfed by a slime… death?
“But I’m still here...” A stirring shook the reality, small at first but then resembling an earthquake that destroyed the shackles of this reality.
Then, he blinked. He couldn’t really make out anything for it was too bright. It was like seeing for the first time, and it took a few moments before the scene shifted into focus. He was still underground, with a beam of light shining on him from the hole in the ground, the same hole he fell into.
He needed to get up there, to get out. His body wouldn’t comply…
He dared tried to shift his focus to his body. In horror, he saw that it was nothing more than a green glob – the same form of the slime that engulfed him. And… bones. Bones floating randomly within that “body.” He shivered – a ripple through the slime, at his realization, and then, despair which drew tears that cascaded from his eyes.
Time was hardly noticed, but could be considered as the sunlight, as well as moonlight, drifted across the cave’s floor. It took him ages of focus, of will, to shift the bones and slime into a more dragon-like figure, the form of a Bogsneak that he remembered himself to be. Even longer was it before he could attempt to use his limbs and his wings to move around. Surprisingly, no one ever entered his cave, and no one ever greeted him once he was able to climb out of the hole that he fell through.
The exit was bittersweet, as was his return to the Plague lair he had last performed at. It felt like yesterday...but it wasn’t yesterday for the clan. In fact, he couldn’t recognize anyone. Not that he could find many dragons – they were terrified of Ectavius as soon as they lais eyes on him. The strongest of the clan drove him away, forcing him to meander across the Abiding Boneyard. And there he wandered and tried to figure out what he would do with this “new” life he was given, at the expense of a life that was taken from him.
Gummy Bard There was a din of voices, happy conversations and laughs mixed in with the clink of chalices and utensils during a feast for celebration. Smells of all types permeated the air, causing any dragon’s mouth to water. The clan was celebrating the birth of a special hatchling, whose eyes displayed a blessing from the Plaguebringer, and had asked all the artisans, musicians, and cooks to assist in the event.
Ectavius was happy to provide his skills as a bard, and he had sung to heart’s content as a band accompanied him. However, his voice was getting hoarse, so he stepped away to find a drink to soothe his throat. The rest of the musicians were handling the music well, playing a musical jig that other dragons hopped, skipped, and danced to. Ectavius laughed at the Snapper whose moves were cankerous, causing a nearby pair of Faes to fall off their chairs. The Bogsneak finally reached the two large barrels of wine, freshly moved from the cellars to be used for a festivity such as this one. The Guardian saw him, gave a nod, and began to fill a chalice with wine. Ectavius accepted the chalice gratefully and decided to down its contents in one gulp.
The Guardian’s eyes widened upon seeing this, and he said, ‘Easy, friend. That stuff is a wee bit strong. Maybe you should eat something from the table...’ ‘Har, har!’ laughed the Bogsneak, ‘You sayin’ I can’t hold this fine wine?’ and he walked away from the Guardian towards the edge of the party to get some fresh air, bumping into a few dragons on the way. The Guardian shook his head, mumbling under his breath, ‘Youngters…’ and resumed to wiping the returned chalices.
Ectavius enjoyed the warmth in his belly from the drink, but the edges of his vision began to blur and his steps became unsteady. Someone yelped just beside him. “Pardon me,” he apologized to the Tundra whose tail he stepped on. The Tundra gave an angry look but returned to his conversation. Thankfully, there were not many more dragons he had to apologize to before he was alone with the lights, sounds, and smells at his back. It was a little bit colder too, with winds that gave a slight chill down a dragon’s spine.
Suddenly, a larger gust blew the hat from Ectavius’ head, and the Bogsneak stumbled after it. The darkness made it difficult to see where he was going, but when the hat seemed to hang midair long enough, he took the opportunity to leap for it. Aha! The hat was enclosed between his claws, but the ground beneath him felt as though it was completely taken away. Down Ectavius fell, until he landed with a thud. Thankfully, there was sand that coated the bottom and absorbed most of the impact of his fall.
Rubbing his sore rump, the Bogsneak attempted to squint and discern his new surroundings. It was too dark to see much of anything, although the damp and rotting smell attacked his nose with a vengeance. As he slowly turned in place, Ectavius then noticed a slight glimmer ahead. Maybe a way out? He took a step, but was greeted by a liquid-like “slurp” sound. It made him pause both in fear and confusion...and it was all he had, that moment, before something cold and damp enveloped him.
Soon, his scales felt like they were ablaze, but he was unable to move to itch them, let alone escape. The pain intensified, and the Bogsneak more violently tried to pull himself free, jerking his limbs. It was to no avail and soon he passed out, leaving his limp form within the slime that was devouring him.
Reality was like a blank, black page – a void without anything to sense or feel. However, a consciousness emerged, like a very dull ember.
“Who am I?” It grew brighter as time went on until the reality was embodied by it.
“I am Ectavius.” Memories flooded the scene, creating a vibrant tapestry that made up the Bogsneak’s sense of self.
“What happened?” A fun night, a hearty drink, a strong breeze, reaching out to catch a hat, falling into a void, and being engulfed by a slime… death?
“But I’m still here...” A stirring shook the reality, small at first but then resembling an earthquake that destroyed the shackles of this reality.
Then, he blinked. He couldn’t really make out anything for it was too bright. It was like seeing for the first time, and it took a few moments before the scene shifted into focus. He was still underground, with a beam of light shining on him from the hole in the ground, the same hole he fell into.
He needed to get up there, to get out. His body wouldn’t comply…
He dared tried to shift his focus to his body. In horror, he saw that it was nothing more than a green glob – the same form of the slime that engulfed him. And… bones. Bones floating randomly within that “body.” He shivered – a ripple through the slime, at his realization, and then, despair which drew tears that cascaded from his eyes.
Time was hardly noticed, but could be considered as the sunlight, as well as moonlight, drifted across the cave’s floor. It took him ages of focus, of will, to shift the bones and slime into a more dragon-like figure, the form of a Bogsneak that he remembered himself to be. Even longer was it before he could attempt to use his limbs and his wings to move around. Surprisingly, no one ever entered his cave, and no one ever greeted him once he was able to climb out of the hole that he fell through.
The exit was bittersweet, as was his return to the Plague lair he had last performed at. It felt like yesterday...but it wasn’t yesterday for the clan. In fact, he couldn’t recognize anyone. Not that he could find many dragons – they were terrified of Ectavius as soon as they lais eyes on him. The strongest of the clan drove him away, forcing him to meander across the Abiding Boneyard. And there he wandered and tried to figure out what he would do with this “new” life he was given, at the expense of a life that was taken from him.
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Exalting EctaviusPlasmus to the service of the Stormcatcher 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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