Boneguard
(#59975129)
A lone graveyard keeper, with terrible memory.
Pest
Highreach Bonepicker
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 37/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Ridgeback
This dragon is on a Coliseum team.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
22.85 m
Wingspan
15.82 m
Weight
7217.71 kg
Genetics
Coal
Piebald
Piebald
Dust
Rosette
Rosette
Taupe
Thylacine
Thylacine
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 10 Ridgeback
EXP: 12476 / 27676
STR
8
AGI
7
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
5
VIT
7
MND
5
Biography
To do; finish up for a stubborn grave and plan (manifestation undecided).
Made by @OverlyOptimistic
Made by @Cranneo
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Works in (and partially owns) a cemetery, situated in a forest that never quite seems to change. Regularly fights off a small flock of Bonepickers, hence their name. A very calm and quiet dragon, never commenting on the bizarrely repetitive nature of their day to day business, nor on why the owner of the cemetary never comes around. Nor visitors. Nor anyone at all, for that matter. Still, Boneguard continues shooing away the Bonepickers from the long abandoned cemetary, persistent in their duty. It's all they have left, after all. |
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Bone noted that, as of late, the trees had become more watchful. They leant in closer, their branches further curled as they passed on their words to and fro, the cries of a seeker the only hint of what they spoke of. Their bark seemed to have darkened, despite the sun's rays, and there seemed to be more and more eyes every time Bone turned their back. They simply dismissed it as another falling out between those ancient testaments to time- though quietly noted to themself that before the seekers never had come by to their patch of graves. Strange behaviour, though they seemed to be kept content as they built their nests of moss. |
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A stream had begun its gurgles between two of the less dilapidated graves, the soft scent of distant banks and punishing heat carried with its flow. Bone made sure to remember to travel along it, to find the mouth of the stream, to block it. They didn't trust the water's playful trickling, and the scent burnt at their nostrils, although it seemed to keep the Bonepickers at bay. Bone tossed aside this perk however when the stream rang every hour, to a tune Bone could only vaguely recognise. They had to presume it was the stream, as the trees were always too quiet and polite after all. The ringing stopped when they had dropped a small trinket, a curious loop of metal. It had fallen off one of the graves, and Bone had attempted to fix it. They were relieved, as now their rest went uninterrupted, though Bone couldn't help but feel as if they'd lost something. |
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They'd spent a while well, having tossed a variety of bones that had no place amongst the graves of the forest. Bone had once read it was a practice to read those bones, but for what purpose they couldn't remember. It was simply fun to see them land in a variety of ways, all likely having told an interesting story if not for Bone's lack of knowledge in the art. They jotted it down to learn how to properly do so at a later date, and then went to rest. It was very likely that note was stolen by a Bonepicker chick, as it was gone when Bone came to. Them remembering what was on the note, or the note ever having existed at all, was very slim. Those bones will likely never be able to tell their story, so long as Bone keeps them close- though Bone isn't entirely sure why they keep them so. Maybe the strange buzz upon contact is a comfort, they mused. Of chaos and turmoil stripped away by time, laid to rest in sediment, far in unfamiliar soils. |
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Bone had a dream, on one of the quieter days. Another grave had another crack, they dreamed, and Bone had long since learned how to give the cracks a more artistic, 'intentional' flourish - flowers always worked, even long since withered ones. They'd tucked in another oxeye - Bone vaguely noted it stood for patience, and should not have been blooming in the forest -, before their long hooked thumb sliced through the gravestone. To say it crumbled would be a lie- it more... crumpled. Slid down its own remains with the grace of a salted snail, shrivelling up in a similar manner. The forest looked upon with judging eyes, the heat of its stare burning. Bone raised a talon to the collar of their hood, tugging. Nothing relieved the sudden sweltering air. They turned to the stream, mind overrun with the need for water, before only seeing a bare bed - metal loop gleaming in a summer sun, the only testament to what flowed through those parched cracks before. A buzzing swarmed Bone's senses, soon every limb and thought following. Bone turned, running - from what, came a vague wondering, before being squashed - to the shade, only to be faced with... nothing. It was like looking into a mirror again, and seeing their stark white eyes. Bone came to the conclusion that any mirrors would be smashed, should they ever see one again. Bone followed through with it when they woke up, a faint humming filled their ears as they threw out the shards. Later, Bone found themself wondering where all their mirrors went. |
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In recent days, Bone has felt... listless. Something heavy has hung itself between their ears; setting a pressure on their fracturing thoughts - pressure that could be worthy of the depths itself. It brought with it a heady smell, casting every sense amok, scrambling their senses and ancient nerves alight - everything chanting danger danger danger. They hooked a claw into their cowl, drawing it further over their eyes. They had a duty. There was no time for squandering it on foolish fears; they refused to succumb to such base instincts. Primordial fears. Ridiculous. There had been a few unsuccessful attempts to stem one of the stream's growing trickles, but one had been persistent. It had thwarted every rock, every pile of dirt and sand, even every gentle redirection. It grew and grew and grew, and now a juvenile pond threatened to swallow a handful of the more clustered graves. Just like the stream it drew its might from, the pond brought with it a punishing heat - but lacked any song, and denied every gift. Shells made its surface tremble a little more, but that was all. Despair itched at Bone's throat. They couldn't fail. They didn't want to fail. The pond lapped at their talons. Ambitious, terrifying in its greed - asking for Bone to be another of its conquests. The graveyard keep stepped back, shaking off every remnant and drying off even the thin skin of moisture beading on their scales - it was another unsuccessful day. Their head hurt. |
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[item= [item= |
Bone didn't want to go outside anymore. They had tried to focus on other tasks, ignoring the pond and its deafening pressure on their mind, their breath, their flesh. They tried trimming bushes, plucking weeds, dusting statues - the duties Bone had faithfully and flawlessly carried on far beyond the fog of their memory. Every single one was simple. Every action perfected. Yet still, their talons closed too carefully around clumps of plants, pulling the flowers they'd planted only weeks before. Yet still, they'd chipped the smaller statues as they cleaned - in one instance, they'd even broken a wingtip. They'd thrown down their tools then, and fled into the shade of their shack. ... but they couldn't leave that poor marble Mirror like that. It was certainly never a thing with lungs, but depriving a creature such as a Mirror of its fullest, truest form felt cruel. The poor thing, in whatever realm its soul dwealt in, must surely lose out on its hunts. Flocks and herds slipping from its grasp, speed impeded - it was these odd dreams that teased open Bone's door, a squinting white eye dreading the world and its decaying hues... They didn't remember cleaning the mausoleum. Even with their stature, it was an undertaking; and yet it stubbornly shone. It even overshadowed the pond, which seemed to have become... shy, the edges trembling, as if it even daren't touch a single grave's offerings. |
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The quiet.
If you could call anything quiet,
For there was always the cry of yapping animals,
Or the singing of the stream,
Or the whispers of the trees.
Never was there silence.
Not even in the graveyard,
Where not a word from its residents is spoken,
Though most lay in the earth.
They know this quiet,
And they know how the quiet can change.
The slight shift in the branches,
The heavy air.
Something was off.
And perhaps it always was.
Maybe it was only now that it decided to speak,
Little words.
Little words only they could hear.
By @Eurydise
If you could call anything quiet,
For there was always the cry of yapping animals,
Or the singing of the stream,
Or the whispers of the trees.
Never was there silence.
Not even in the graveyard,
Where not a word from its residents is spoken,
Though most lay in the earth.
They know this quiet,
And they know how the quiet can change.
The slight shift in the branches,
The heavy air.
Something was off.
And perhaps it always was.
Maybe it was only now that it decided to speak,
Little words.
Little words only they could hear.
By @Eurydise
The autumn leaves flew;
The wind blowing through;
Gentle and reminding.
Graveyard’s tombs would stay;
As it has always been that way;
The inactive stone unable to move.
Almost filled as lifeless;
The dragon would walk across thus;
Watching over the broken fields;
Their memory may not be the best;
Although they can always test;
Of what knowledge they keep a hold.
To this story is told.
Flowers and mirrors;
Bothering them with terror;
As they wonder where they go.
Hopefully they’ll know.
By @TeerOfLore
The wind blowing through;
Gentle and reminding.
Graveyard’s tombs would stay;
As it has always been that way;
The inactive stone unable to move.
Almost filled as lifeless;
The dragon would walk across thus;
Watching over the broken fields;
Their memory may not be the best;
Although they can always test;
Of what knowledge they keep a hold.
To this story is told.
Flowers and mirrors;
Bothering them with terror;
As they wonder where they go.
Hopefully they’ll know.
By @TeerOfLore
Made by @OverlyOptimistic
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This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
Seafood stocks are currently depleted.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Boneguard to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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