Schattenfeuer » Lair » Orsysis

Orsysis

(#64384198)

Level 9 Guardian

Familiar

Sandskink

Energy: 48/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

17.18 m

Wingspan

15.05 m

Weight

7561.78 kg

Genetics

Iris
Metallic

Purple
Bee

Berry
Basic

Hatchday

Oct 09, 2020
(3 years)

Breed

Adult
Guardian

Eye Type

Ice
Dark Sclera

Level 9 Guardian

EXP: 338 / 21526

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

none

Biography

__._

Orsysis Vilvidren.
↠ The circle must be broken

"And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall..."

Old money, a reputation built up over several generations and with gruesome deeds, had a tendency to choke any kind of fresh idea to death before it could even bloom. Old money had expectations and not meeting them could be bad for someone’s health, change was not something that came easily nor was it accepted. He knew it, he felt it every single day he had spent in the heavily ornate mansion that always somehow smelled of dread and agony.

The marble statues of ancestors that lived and died long before he was even a thought on the distant horizon always seemed like they wanted to choke him. Their cold stone hands twitching around the hilts of their whips and the chains of the ones they had shackled down in life and refused to let go even after death. He was scared, as a young boy, because their hollow eyes always seemed to follow him, track every of his moves across the room and the bent, broken, agonized expression of their pets in shapes of men, women, even children, induced blank horror within his tender mind.

Everything within this house was a dedication to older times, to when things had been different, more brutal, less restricted and organized by law. How could his parents live like this? Could they not hear the mournful shrike in every gust of wind? Was their sleep not haunted and hounded by the expression of souls enslaved? Cast in irons and encapsulated in eerie perfection in brushed, gleam less steel. It choked him, he tried to understand, he tried. But all he found in his family’s history, in the lineage of blood and name they were so proud of, was pain.

Not on them, no, they inflicted it onto others for mere gain of profit. They even kept up with this outdated tradition when laws were created, when the Watchers no longer turned a blind eye. When the Empire grew, they remained seated in their old ways. They had served them well for so long, but didn’t they understand? Even a rotten limb could eventually stop hurting. But that didn’t stop the decay from infecting the rest of the body.

A clean cut was necessary, but the murder of his whole family was not what he had in mind. It was the farflung opposite of his intentions, all he had ever wanted was for them to reconsider, to see the error of their ways and find the right path out of their own strength, their own intuition. But in a way, this had been long brewing, underneath the surface, as they had refused to accept, refused to change, to see the change of eras gone and the dawn of a new age. He felt sadness, broken sobs spilling as he watched how they lost their heads, one by one, one after the other. Why was only he spared?

Because, the mask of ivory spoke in a hall grand enough to make him feel like a child again, he was deemed innocent. Because he had given back instead of stolen, a cheap comfort. Evil tongues whispered behind his turned back, that he had bought himself redemption, when all he ever wanted to change the old system. His reward became a curse in the guise of a blessing.

Innocence never had felt heavier, more damning than it did now, when friends and acquaintances turned their backs. Because he had sold out his family, they murmured under their breaths, he had abandoned them, what would stop him from doing the same all over again?

His cries for help, for them to listen fell upon deaf ears, could not be heard in the storm of rumors and superstition. They knew the history that surrounded his name and they only ever saw the mansion that reeked of old agony. The silver circlet on his brow could just as well be a ring of thorns, frail and small, it’s implication cut deeper than any sword ever could.

A lone, doomed soul no one wanted, he was prepared to walk alone for the remainder of his life. Nothing gained, nothing easing the weight on his shoulders. It would have been better, he tried to convince himself, one voice to fill the void. One voice and one beating heart, a proof of being alive, this had to be enough, no?

And amidst a breaking from his own hands, a bright soul reached out. Hands warm, eyes bright and glowing with life, spoke of joys and more than this. Banished the silence and the isolation better than the fire that had consumed his childhood prison. Better than the hangman’s scythe, aswell.

___

code & assets by archaic #19153

If you feel that this content violates our Rules & Policies, or Terms of Use, you can send a report to our Flight Rising support team using this window.

Please keep in mind that for player privacy reasons, we will not personally respond to you for this report, but it will be sent to us for review.

0/1000

Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.

Exalting Orsysis to the service of the Flamecaller will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

Do you wish to continue?

Name

Names must be longer than 2 characters.
Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
Names can only contain letters.

Name

Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
Names can only contain letters.