SHODAN
(#63165093)
Level 1 Imperial
Familiar
Rusty Golem
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Male Imperial
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
24.98 m
Wingspan
24.39 m
Weight
8802.76 kg
Genetics
Berry
Slime
Slime
Blood
Noxtide
Noxtide
Magenta
Stained
Stained
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Lineage
Biography
|
 SHODAN
BARGHEST LORE AND LINEAGE PROJECT
GENERATION V MORGANA'S LINE 
Naomi Descendant Gen X
The Beast Descendant Gen VIII
"Never trust a computer you can't throw out a window."
L ore summary. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, vix dicant consulatu patrioque at. Ea ius vidit paulo, usu iusto mandamus eu, mea cetero inermis urbanitas ex. Laudem mucius intellegat mel an, ut usu populo propriae probatus. Autem accusam legendos ex quo, duo id efficiantur neglegentur. Delectus platonem ut vis, vidisse impedit voluptua an sed. At eos quis laoreet omittam, sumo elit aliquando *** te. Per mundi alterum at. This is the tale of the Barghest, Shodan. |
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The being who would eventually become known as Shodan began life as a wisp of energy. The egg had looked dead to begin with, but with barghests, looks are often deceiving: On a moonlit night, a slit appeared in the shell. What looked like black smoke wafted out, wavering in a phantom breeze. Like many of his kind known as the church grims, Mazoku was bound to the lonely place he haunted. But he had been searching for ways to go farther afield, and one of those experiments involved the remains of a black iron creeper. It lay on the floor, its many eyes dark, its limbs splayed out awkwardly. The barghest watched as the wisp of smoke—what passed for his offspring—coiled across the floor towards it. The smoke hovered over the robot for many minutes, its black vapors becoming indistinguishable from the dark iron. It seemed to vie for space with the inert construct...and then the jittering vanished: the quasi-barghest had taken control of the black iron creeper’s remains. One leg moved, then another. The robot rose to its feet. On clicking footsteps, it made its way out into the night, while behind it, Mazoku roared, a mix of frustration and exultation. The former because he had sunk much work into the creeper and wasn’t quite ready to see it go—and the latter because who better to make use of it than one of his own children? Still nameless, the newborn barghest wandered through the wilds of the Sunbeam Ruins. The creeper’s metal body afforded it plenty of protection, and it survived much longer than it would have had, had it remained a wisp of darkness. Out in the wild, many things tried to assail it. There were ordinary woodland creatures, more magic-tainted monsters, the occasional Beastclan scout, and a dragon or two. Running was the only option at first, but as the barghest grew more confident in its motions, it learned to fight back. Damage to the creeper’s body was nearly inconsequential; it didn’t feel pain, and as long as it could keep the structure repaired, it could keep going. The breakthrough came one day when the creeper was approached by a hunter, a dragon with a pair of steelhounds. The hunter himself was impenetrable, but the barghest’s magic suddenly caught onto tendrils of energy—electricity—wavering from the golems. Stuck between both of them, the barghest felt the flow—and let itself get caught up in it. In a trice, it was in one steelhound, peering out through those glowing red eyes. The creeper’s body collapsed into a battered heap, and the hunter had a brief moment of surprise before the barghest-driven steelhound leaped at him, jaws fastening around his throat. The remaining steelhound, confused by the sudden change in its partner, didn’t last much longer. Thereafter, travel became much easier for the barghest, and not just because of its new body. It could leech memories from the constructs it invaded, and from these, it learned more about the world around it, its inhabitants...and devices that could be of further use. Its search for more things to control led it to the Shifting Expanse. Here, electricity crackled freely between a million different devices, and the barghest found itself spoiled for choice. As its powers grew, it found that it didn’t need to remain tethered to just one object—it could spread its awareness out over a network. And that, eventually, was how it began communicating with dragonkind. Most records pertaining to those incidents have been heavily censored, if not deleted altogether. It’s nigh-impossible to censor spoken words, however, and engineers will sometimes pass around stories of encounters with strange technological entities, their own version of campfire tales. They whisper of a threefold voice that crackled out from beyond a darkened screen one day, challenging the dragons of the Shifting Expanse— “Your cameras have become my eyes, your automatons are now my claws. I will rule here, insects, as your new master, your new god.” The dragons were not concerned at first. Pretenders to godhood came and went all the time. But when their machines started going haywire—refusing to follow commands, and then actively attacking them—the alarm was raised...and the Stormcatcher himself was made aware of this new threat. The god’s wrath was terrible: How dare this nonentity threaten his children and challenge his divinity? There are no records of what exactly transpired next, and perhaps there need not be, for who can hope to understand what the gods are capable of? What is known is that after the menace was purged from the machines, it became visible on the physical plane: shards of color all flying together, forming a cloud of jittering, buzzing energy that was nonetheless vaguely shaped like a dragon. Its edges were in constant flux, giving it a fuzzy outline—the eyes that glared from its head, however, were unwavering in their contempt and loathing for the dragons who now stared it down. The Stormcatcher didn’t strike again, but he didn’t need to: Bereft of a body, the barghest was now vulnerable to the weapons of the exalts. It screamed at them, a static-filled howl of frustration and hate, and then disappeared with the smell of burning plastic. It was hard to tell if it had perished—how does something of pure energy even die? Though the operation was written off as a success, the stories continued, the engineers sharing what scraps they knew and what suppositions they’d made. It was they who came up with a name for the creature, a name which it, too, eventually adopted: Shodan. ~ ~ ~ There were places in the Shifting Expanse where nobody dared go—no one save for machines, and only then because most of them did not think, or were compelled by the dragons piloting them from afar. One of these places was a landfill, a pit of plastic, glass, and metal refuse: Machines discarded at the end of their service, or that had broken before they’d ever had a chance to be useful. Shodan fled here, to this graveyard of machinery, drawn by the refuse as a vulture is drawn to a kill. It found many devices to nest in and draw power from. Not enough with which to challenge dragonkind again, but enough to keep itself sustained. And over the years, its power grew.... Over the years, the Shifting Expanse changed as well. And a scavenger came to the landfill one day, unaware of the peril lurking beneath the ground: Some poor old dragon, much of his body blasted away by time and hardship, the parts replaced with thrumming machinery. Shodan, thinking him a robot, leaped into the metal parts. The scavenger collapsed, screaming and writhing amidst the debris, as his limbs twisted, seemingly of their own accord, and he heard the threefold voice hissing inside his half-cybernetic mind. Shodan didn’t care about the dragon’s pain; why would it, when it couldn’t feel? It was more interested in the memories it siphoned from the hapless Imperial. It gleaned knowledge of how the Shifting Expanse had evolved in the previous years, particularly how the dragons’ technology had improved...and it became particularly interested in the power node known as the Source. Shodan left the scavenger where he lay. It swept through the landfill, quickly finding components it could use to travel. Machines from the Source had their memories wiped before being dumped here, as a security measure, for the place was brimming with pure Lightning magic. Now that Shodan knew about this, though, nothing would keep it out. It left the landfill behind forever, and weeks later, it had made a home for itself, deep within the earth beneath the Source. There was much energy here for the entity to manipulate. Electricity thrummed within the earth, and occasionally machines came through to perform maintenance...but Shodan was still a relatively young barghest, and its powers were limited. It could not control more than a couple of automatons at a time, and it would have to be careful in extending its influence, for the memory of the Stormcatcher’s wrath was still fresh in its mind. It replayed that encounter over and over again, identifying missteps it had made, ways to prevent those mistakes from recurring, and what to do if they did recur. Mortals made mistakes, but Shodan was determined not to be like them. Machines might make mistakes as well, but they could learn from these, too. And they could ensure that the same errors, the same defeats, would not happen twice. ~ ~ ~ The workshop monitor was not sentient, but its programming was advanced enough that it knew something was wrong. It was supposed to return to the inspection bay for routine maintenance—instead, it was floating deeper into the earth, following one of the darker shafts bored by the Lightning dragons. When it passed a certain distance, an alarm blared inside it—but it was quickly silenced in a crackle of static. The noise continued as the monitor floated ever downward. It was nearly silent here, in the depths beneath the Source, but occasional snatches of words were discernible: “...more power...articulation...compatibility between...” It emerged into a wide, low cavern shored up with metal barriers and piles of debris. A voice, soft and clipped, came out of the darkness: “Dispatch the intruder, Mask.” With a single sharp crunch! the monitor was decommissioned, skewered on the end of a massive talon. Dull amber eyes peered at it, glaring from beneath a golden helmet. And then a monitor set by the doorway crackled to life.... “I brought that object for you to study, Karras, not to scrap.” The words were directed at a Ridgeback who lumbered out of the shadows, clad in green and gold. Despite Shodan’s contemptuous tone, the Ridgeback’s face took on an expression of grotesque ecstasy, his teeth glinting as machine oil ran down his cheeks. “Of course, mighty Shodan. See how the Masked Servant has inflicted only a single point of damage.” Karras removed the workshop monitor from the talon. He carried it to a work table. The monitor was placed beneath a clear plastic guard, which protected it from the oil that dripped from Karras’ mechanical eyes. Its blue light slowly faded as the Ridgeback pulled it apart piece by piece. Karras frowned. He absently wiped oil away and commented, “This is new technology. Not just the shape, but the articulation, the power core...everything.” “Are the makings of this device beyond your comprehension, insect?” “Not for much longer, I believe.” Karras, to his credit, didn’t waver—not even when more screens around him lit up under Shodan’s influence. The entity’s face, if it could be called that, was just a blurring mass of pixels with a sullen red glow. They jittered and flickered constantly—save for the eyes, which burned steadily in place with malevolent violet light. Screens blinked on and off as Shodan moved around the cavern, examining Karras’ work from all angles. At times watching from a distance, at times unnervingly close...Karras’ expression remained studious, but inside, he felt a brief tremor of unease. He pushed it decisively away, however. He had accepted long ago that all organic life was flawed, that millions more years of evolution would never be able to grant him the perfection he knew was rightfully his. The only way to attain that within his lifetime was through mechanical enhancement. Machines were perfect. They recorded all memories exactly, they did not grow tired, they didn’t require sustenance... And Shodan, the machine who’d dared challenge a god, was the very pinnacle of that perfection. No, it was right that Karras should be working for him! It was divine providence.... The Ridgeback held up one of the workshop monitor’s tentacles. “Such fine sensors! I would posit that if they were hooked up to a specialized matrix, they would enable you to receive more precise tactile information. A shame the workshop monitor’s matrix has been ruptured. But we could secure another one, and its matrix could be engineered to interface with yours...” The screens around him flickered. Shodan’s voice came again, dreadfully quiet: “Karras.” “Yes, Lord?” “That is a worthless idea, a waste of time and work.” “No, my Lord. I merely thought—” “We do not seek to imitate dragonkind. Strength is required; there will be no distractions such as...precise tactile information. The ability to perceive different textures, certainly. But no discomfort. No pain.” “Agreed, Lord Shodan. Pain is a weakness, an outmoded alarm system that should have been expunged years ago.” Karras focused on his work again. “Perhaps we can still make use of these. You would be able to perceive temperatures and specific textures more precisely, but we need not manufacture pain receptors. Your body will only superficially resemble an Imperial drake, but with none of that sensory baggage.” The screens blinked out. Karras took that as a sign of approval—if, indeed, Shodan could ever approve of anything. “We must keep striving for perfection. We must not be complacent; time spent wallowing in complacency only degrades us further...” There were other components of the workshop monitor that could be of use to them, such as the eyes set around its bell, which doubtless gave it nearly 360-degree vision. More of these optical sensors, modified to suit Shodan’s means, would enable it to see not just in 360 degrees, but on different spectrums and planes. Thermal vision, night vision, spell detection... Karras carried some of these sensors deeper into the cavern. He pushed aside a plastic sheet, and there, gleaming on a large table, was a fully cybernetic head, shaped to look like an Imperial dragon’s. He bent closer towards the orbital socket, comparing the make of the sensors to the ones he now clutched in his claws. The nearest screen lit up as Shodan reappeared. “An upgrade is imperative, Karras.” “Indeed, my Lord. These more advanced sensors will suit you well.” The cavern brightened as Karras continued his work. This mechanical body would be a pinnacle of engineering even the gods couldn’t touch. It would be Shodan’s vessel, protecting the entity from any who might dare strike it down. There would be none—for the body would be unstoppable. Invincible. And Shodan, at last, would take its place as the ruler of Sornieth. All-knowing, all-powerful, transcending mortal and even mechanical frailty. The proclamation it had made so many years ago would finally come to pass... “Your cameras have become my eyes, your automatons are now my claws. I will rule here, insects, as your new master...your new god.” ~ written by Disillusionist (254672) all edits by other users
Layout and artwork by awaicu
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