Gristle78's dragon Ancient

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

5.22 m

Wingspan

6.34 m

Weight

381.1 kg

Genetics

Shadow
Wasp

Azure
Bee

Spruce
Ringlets

Hatchday

Jun 06, 2020
(3 years)

Breed

Adult
Pearlcatcher

Eye Type

Plague
Primal

Level 25 Pearlcatcher

Max Level

STR

126

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

It was like a shanty town on wheels, a bizarre and vibrant parade now idle against the desolate landscape. A cluster of bedraggled wagons dressed in rippling tapestries and murals, caked in dust and faded. Makeshift tents of old and weathered canvas to house the largest of the inhabitants were dotted in between. The structures were evidently built by amateur hands, with messy patchwork of wood and rusty tin, windows of stained glass, and the scavenged objects of foreign lands. Towers several stories tall lent at concerning angles, looming above the brittle wheels and sagging foundation. Frogs were a common theme in the ornate paintwork and fabrics consuming every available surface, slimy little creatures illustrated in loving detail against various scenes and background, the work of what seemed to be many different artists. Wind chimes caught the occasional breeze, the pleasant sound interrupting what was almost an eerie silence. Despite itself it felt as dead as the endless desert surrounding it. The shadows cast a little darker than before as the harsh sunlight failed to penetrate entirely the invisible veil that shrouded the vicinity. The air felt thicker, humid and heavy like a hazy afternoon, in morning of the sweltering wasteland.
Each step closer echos painfully loud, belly crawling and spitting sand, a mouth as dry as your hide fails to salivate at the thought of potential respite and a sudden onset of nausea. You feel the judgemental and prying eyes of countless unseen individuals, burning into your skin like the heat on the back of your neck. The dread of dying lost and alone in the wastes now overshadowed by a new fear rising in your throat like bile. The frog towers above you with boneless limbs outstretched like Christ, bulging eyes lifeless and flat against moist, warty skin, against the backdrop of a crudely illustrated nebula. The wind chimes sing again and make you jolt, accompanied then by a thick scent of something rotting sweet and putrid, clinging to the hairs of your nostrils.

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Exalting Ancient to the service of the Earthshaker 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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