Silwyna » Lair » Maljin

Maljin

(#62251757)

Level 1 Wildclaw

Familiar

Rogue Apparel

Energy: 47/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

6.26 m

Wingspan

6.36 m

Weight

573.1 kg

Genetics

Coal
Skink

Sanguine
Noxtide

Cream
Ghost

Hatchday

Jun 25, 2020
(3 years)

Breed

Adult
Wildclaw

Eye Type

Ice
Rare

Level 1 Wildclaw

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

none

Biography

____

MALJIN
The Hunter

______________________

▬▬ To Hunt Or Be Hunted ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Maljin crouched lower, trying to blend in with the alder ticket he was hiding in. He had been tracking the two hunters for a while now, and as he had hoped, they’d split up. The pale rather sickly looking coatl had been the one he’d chosen to follow. He would strike at him first and when his effluvial-blight virus had driven him mad, he’d be a formidable opponent. Should his companion show up, he’d be as much a danger to his old friend than he was to Maljin. He’d rarely taken on two dragons at once, but in the rare cases he had done so, the intensity of the fight and the thrill had been most satisfactory. Also, he loved a challenge from time to time and he felt he’d spent enough time in these strange dense forests to feel comfortable for such an endeavor now.

As his victim came closer, Maljin noticed a strange smell. Like something rotting or dying. The smell was distinct but hard to pinpoint. He didn’t dare to sniff the air in case the coatl would hear him. So he decided to ignore it for now. Just a little bit closer… Maljin thought, his heart thumping in his chest with excitement. Maljin leapt from his hiding place, crushing into the other dragon. The force of his attack sent the coatl tumbling to the floor. He hit the ground with a loud crash, groaning as the air was forced out of his lungs. Maljin did not hesitate, snarling he slashed at the coatl, his claws drawing blood.

The hood had fallen off the pale coatl’s head, revealing glowing red eyes. The coatl bared his teeth, they were stained red with blood. Probably bitten his tongue when he hit the ground, but something didn’t seem quite right. It took a few moments until Maljin realized that the pale creature was smirking at him. There was no sign of blind rage or loss of control. Taken aback, Maljin was caught by surprise as the coatl headbutted him and flung him off. He was sent flying through the air and crashed into a tree; the force of the impact sent a sharp pain through his back. He struggled to stay conscious, his vision blurry.

The pale coatl had gotten up, he was coughing and spitting blood on the ground. The scratches on his body were bleeding heavily but he paid them no heed. Behind him, his companion emerged from the trees, a coatl as colorful as the other was pale. Still dizzy, Maljin took a defensive position. Why wasn’t the pale one raving and rampaging as he should? As if he’d read his mind, the coatl with the gleaming red eyes spoke, his voice full of contempt.

“Wondering why your little trick didn’t work, eh? Thought me an easy target, didn’t you, you pompous fool?” He coughed again, deep ragged coughs that shook his whole body and speckled the ground with more blood. His companion edged closer, lying a hand on the pale one’s shoulder. “Take it easy, Morvyn.” The pale one, Morvyn, shrugged off the comforting touch. His eyes were fixed on Maljin now. “I’ve already been cursed by the Plaguebringer herself; no other venom, plague or virus can touch me. Small recompense for a body that is slowly rotting away, but you take what you can get.” Morvyn laughed, a mirthless and slightly hysteric cackle. Maljin thought that it probably wasn’t only his body that was affected by that strange curse. It’s seemed he’d gotten himself into real trouble this time. It dawned on him, that he’d never been the hunter but the hunted in this game. They had outwitted him.

“So little Crow, are you ready to dance with death?” Two long, hooked blades slid from the pale coatl’s sleeves, the glowing red eyes were alive with malice, his teeth bared in a wicked grin. He really is mad… Maljin thought. His eyes flickered from the lunatic to his calm companion who was leaning against a tree. He had the sinking feeling that this time, he would not be able to cheat death. Gritting his teeth, he turned to face the pale coatl. “Let’s dance then.” He said, proud how calm his voice sounded when his heart was racing and the sight of the bloodstained, leering dragon filled him with terror.

▬▬ BACKGROUND ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Maljin made the mistake to mess with the wrong dragons in his youth. Cocky and overconfident, he tried to get the better of two senior scouts, Morvyn and Haru, who are as ruthless but twice as cunning as Maljin. Maljin badly misjudged his opponent and received the most humiliating beating of his lifetime. Instead of killing him, they brought him back to the Sanctuary so he could pay for his crimes. Trespassing and attacking a clan member were and still are crimes that are severely punished, not rarely by death. While survival of the fittest is a concept honored by most nature clans, dragons of the Forgotten Sanctuary are most particular who or what puts a dragon to the test on their territory. Especially if the one being tested in one of their own.

Some of the Council however were impressed by Maljin’s talents and recklessness is a bad habit of many youngsters. So they decided to let the Gladekeeper choose his fate. The druids brought him to the Behemoth, the ancient tree in the heart of the Viridian Labyrinth. They left him in the shade of its enormous trunk, bruised, beaten bloody and closer to death than to life. After 11 days, they’d come back and either find a dead body who’d be nourishment for the ancient tree or a living dragon. On the 11th day they found an emaciated but otherwise perfectly healthy dragon. The Gladekeeper had spoken her judgement.

Instead of death, he was gifted with life. This experience changed Maljin. He decided to stay with the dragons of the Forgotten Sanctuary. Instead of hunting for his own pleasure, he now hunts to protect his Clan. He still enjoys the thrill of fighting an opponent inflicted with effluvial-blight virus but his victims are no longer random or innocent. Ironically, one who enjoys the thrill of fighting a foe mad with rage even more than Maljin himself is no other than Morvyn, the pale Afflicted who almost killed him years ago. And where Morvyn is, Haru is never far away. Maljin neither likes nor feels comfortable in the presence of the mad Afflicted or his stone-cold companion, but there are hardly two companions more suited to this special kind of hunt than they are.

▬▬ BLIGHTCROW VARIANT ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

WHO ARE THE BLIGHTCROWS?
Blightcrows are the children of Effluvial Crows and Blightbound who have survived their tomb blight after a fight with a crow. With how unusual it is to occur, it’s no wonder a crow might take a liking to the particularly hardy Blightbound. However, it has taken quite some time for these Blightcrows to become more commonly seen, as they can blend fairly effectively with flocks and clans of Crows and Blightbound.

_{Bio code by Archaic}

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Exalting Maljin to the service of the Gladekeeper 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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