Loriikmorah
(#58472326)
they/it | Oracle of the Matriarchs
Tsunami
Deeprealm Leon
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Wind.
Female Banescale
This dragon is an ancient breed.
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Personal Style
Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.37 m
Wingspan
4.72 m
Weight
814.5 kg
Genetics
Abyss
Ragged (Banescale)
Ragged (Banescale)
Ruby
Butterfly (Banescale)
Butterfly (Banescale)
Red
Squiggle (Banescale)
Squiggle (Banescale)
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Banescale
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
7
INT
6
VIT
7
MND
6
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
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Though the Great Storm swept in years ago, its effects were far-reaching across the scopes of both time and space. Once it enveloped Voidlight Valley, days could no longer be distinguished from hours or weeks. The all-encompassing shroud of darkness and furious lightning could only be quelled by one so mighty as the Goddess Arconiste. Once it had finally ended, after an untold spell of time, the skies cleared to reveal, under the shining light of day, an entirely new person. A Bogsneak, dressed in finery and staring back with countless eyes, greeted the stunned residents of Voidsurf Boardwalk with a grin. Once brought before the Mother Goddesses, it was clear that this stranger, Loriikmorah, showed great promise in offering service to Them. However, one might understand that the Divines were hesitant to trust the wiles of one presented so mysteriously to Their realm. During Loriikmorah's first audience with the Goddesses, they were confronted with many questions regarding their origins and their intentions. All they could say for themself was that emerging from the Void felt like awakening from a great, unending dream. They had memories of past experiences, bundled recollections of things that felt so real before... but in the light of day, they could no longer tell how true any of them were. They sheepishly shrugged and admitted they couldn't be sure they were even alive before the moment the Void spat them out. Though such a tale would soon become quite familiar to the Matriarchs in the future time to come, as more and more wayward souls tumbled out of the Void, Loriikmorah was the first to tell it to them. The Goddess Arconiste raised doubt as to the veracity of such a farfetched excuse not to divulge. The Goddess Vashinide decided to extend the benefit of the doubt and persuaded Her Wife to indulge in some generosity towards this new guest -- and besides, didn't They need some extra hands, or eyes, to help manage Their domain? And so Loriikmorah was granted an opportunity to breeze their way into the Goddesses' good graces. Loriikmorah seems to have some deep, intuitive bond with the Void. Perhaps as a result of having ridden the wave of the Great Storm, they can flawlessly predict whatever weather events may be lurking on the horizon, no matter how strange or seemingly unpredictable. Where other meteorologists tried and failed to make any sense of how all movements of air and pressure changes become completely erratic when they hit the Valley, Loriikmorah doesn't even break a sweat in explaining it all off feel alone. Not only that, but because, as they say, weather is the mood of Fate, they can see the future of the Valley in the patterns of pounding rain or searing sunshine that sweep over it. Because of this, and because of their blithe, cheerful willingness to cooperate on most matters without question, they have ascended to a place of honor in the Court of the Gods: Oracle and Right-Hand Advisor of the Matriarchs. Though they have never wavered in loyal service to the Goddesses, one day, something... changed. They changed. No official explanation was ever provided, but whispers around the clan suggest it all had to do with Aettel. It was well known, after all, that of all those residing in the Temple, it was Loriikmorah with whom the little Godling felt the most comfort. Soon enough, they also took on the duty of ferrying messages back and forth between Aettel's hidden sanctum and the rest of the world, since it was thought their bond would ensure the Oracle's safety. Well, that may well be true, depending on one's definition of "danger." Loriikmorah remains alive and well... and twisted beyond all recognition. Their shape resembles a Banescale's, yet darker, more gnarled, more monstrous by far than most. Though their golden ornamentations mark them for the nobility they still are, precious little else does. Of course, Loriikmorah remains just as unperturbed by this series of events as by everything else in their life. They smile their same charming smile, now fanged and sinister, leaving long shadows trailing in their wake as they walk the same paths throughout the Temple... 
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