Bordeaux
(#64963261)
Level 11 Guardian
Familiar
Hellhound
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Male Guardian
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
18.11 m
Wingspan
21.5 m
Weight
7819.85 kg
Genetics
Garnet
Skink
Skink
Teal
Flair
Flair
Lavender
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 11 Guardian
EXP: 9600 / 34264
STR
51
AGI
6
DEF
8
QCK
30
INT
5
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
 
T H E M E - Burn the House Down - L I K E S 
D I S L I K E S 
F A M I L I A R 
H O A R D 
A R T - L U G G A G E - ྿
 xxxxxxx  Project Ugly! Gen 6 Gengyar >> Nueclia >> Pythia >> Greenhouse >> Reef >> Powder >> Bordeaux (you are here) |
B O R D E A U X
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Bordeaux has gotten a bit too decadent for his own sustainability as of late. A preference for indulging in all of the pleasures the world has to offer him to the fullest, nearly limitless pocket money thanks to his successful chains of inns established across Sornieth, and with very limited concept of the word "no," Bordeaux will eat, sleep, and drink his way through most days, bleeding out his legacy money at an alarming rate. With his habits threatening to tank his businesses, his board has recently kicked him out of the company and, in a surprising twist, given his mother control over all of his assets. He will never retain his wealth unless he can learn to live a much more modest lifestyle; to this end, he has been sent out to live on the road to learn what it means to be a spendthrift. Can he do it without spiraling? 
 Clan MavenlarkSomeone -- a board member, or perhaps his mother -- suggested keeping a journal of his travels to chart his personal growth. He managed to pen one snarky entry before forgetting about it entirely: Can you believe it? Banned! From my own clan! For what, the sin of enjoying life? What else is money for if not to be spent? How embarrassing for my clan to leave me behind - surely the road will make me gleam even brighter than ever before. Then they'll be sorry!  Clan of the Black SunBordeuax made his first stop to a nearby marketplace, where his comments on the "poor business practices of the laydragon" insulted on many occasions. His haughty attitude followed him into a tavern, where he unwisely mocked a grumpy Guardian with several prominent battle scars. Somehow he managed to just barely escape the larger dragon's wrath by fleeing through the crowded market, but he had never been so terrified. No one had ever treated him so poorly. How dare they? Didn't they know who he was? Still poor and alone with nowhere to stay, Bordeaux continued on his journey in a random direction, which led him to the dreaded Scarred Wasteland. The young Guardian hated this place. Through every step, he avoided touching anything that might have ever been alive once. It came as a great shock when he was found by an elderly Snapper named Platominus. Despite Bordeaux's attitude, Platominus was kind and patient with the newcomer and invited him to stay in his clan until he was ready to set off again (with better directions). Bordeaux agreed because he mistook the wise Snapper's patience for unearned respect, and he suspected he could make some coin from these rural bumpkins. After a day of being pampered and well fed by Platominus' clan, Bordeaux decided that maybe living here wouldn't be too bad. Maybe one day, when he regained his status as a wealthy businessdragon, he could lead this clan to glory and power and teach them how to properly live life. However, these public musings of his intentions did not sit well with some of the dragons, especially Oleander, the clan's healer, who took news of Bordeaux's plans to the clan leader Lugia. Lugia was utterly bewildered by his ideas, and she quickly pointed out how easily his sloppily underdeveloped plans would backfire; she also informed him that the clan had recently suffered through a major famine and such a blow to the clan would put them in even deeper trouble. Rather than accept the criticism for what it was, Bordeaux became stubborn and defiant. It was so sad that they didn't share the same vision as he did. How could they be so blind? No matter; he didn't need to suffer in this clan any longer. He was strong enough to fly and surely there were other clans that would welcome him with open wings. Much to Platominus' dismay, Bordeaux left the Clan of the Black Sun, hoping to never see them again.  Clan KaishalHe noticed the quaint little lair where the bamboo forest met the base of the mountain and almost passed it by until the glare of the sun off something incredibly sparkly high up on the unusual mountain caught his discerning eye. It seemed obvious to Bordeaux that the peasants lived at the bottom while dragons of his own caliber must reside at the top; he couldn't see al the way up, but the views were certain to be spectacular. So it was that, without so much as a greeting to the dragons at the front gate, Bordeaux began strolling up the well-worn path, confident that he would rest well that night. Unfortunately for him, his sudden intrusion alerted the clan guards who captured him before he could ask what was happening. As he would later come to learn, only the consecrated and devotees on their way to serve the Eleven are allowed to set foot on the holy Mount Kaishal, and his infraction would require him to pay off his debt through labor and soul-searching. Neither of these things particularly appealed to Bordeaux, who was so used to assigning such mundane tasks to lesser dragons; he was a big thinker, not a laydragon. The dragons of Clan Kaishal did not seem to care about any of that. Under the watchful eyes of the sentinels and warriors, Bordeaux was sentenced to serve under master chef Merengue in his confectionary. This came as both a blessing and a curse to the dragon: the masterful delicacies Merengue was capable of creating were wasted out here in the middle of nowhere, but they were exactly Bordeaux's style. Yet he was not allowed to eat even one, and instead had to perform the hard labor of hauling ingredients and cleaning while the Gaoler delicately crafted his masterpieces. Perhaps the clan was hoping he would see the error of his ways, but by the end of his sentence he was only ready to wash his claws of this bizarre clan and move on. |
The Purified TempleSay what you will about Bordeaux, but at the very least, he had learned his lesson from being captured by guards in the last clan he visited. When he decided that he would be staying at a large, admirable temple standing tall over the wreckage of the Hewn City, the Guardian made sure to at least properly introduce himself first, to the gruff Pearlcatcher guard they had standing out front.
Bordeaux informed the Pearlcatcher that he would be staying in their clan to rest his weary wings from the stress of travel for some time, and then trudged on in before she could even give him a response. Nauta wouldn't have said no to him, of course, but the arrogance of their newest visitor still made her mane flare and her whiskers stand on end, that was for sure.
The dragons of The Purified Temple were usually quite the hospitable bunch, happy to house, feed, and entertain all of the travellers that passed through their lair during their adventures! But Bordeaux... well, Bordeaux was a bit of a different case. He made himself a bit TOO welcome. With a Guardian-sized appetite and an absolutely sloth-like lifestyle, he was eating them out of house and home, and yet wouldn't even lift a pinky claw to help with gathering! He happily and greedily took advantage of every bit of kindness they showed to him without so much as a "thank you."
This arrangement was positively unfair. But rather than just kick the Guardian to the curb -- which would have been well within their right -- the clan's joint leaders, Myura and her child Hollyfin, discussed using this as a learning experience for the arrogant Guardian instead. They sent the roughest and toughest fighter of their clan, the physiotherapist and ex-Coliseum fighter Francium, after Bordeaux.
Francium (though she much prefers to be called by her nickname of Frank) sought the Guardian out in the travellers' wing of their temple. She found him in "his" chambers, swaddled in blankets like a spoiled hatchling and surrounded by heaping plates of choice food, all of which he had clearly swiped from their hoard without permission. She visibly cringed, crinkling her scarred snout at the sight. How the hell had her leaders been letting him get away with this for so long?!
Bordeaux lifted his craggy face, to peer disapprovingly at the lesser dragon that had just barged her way into his living quarters. "What?" He snarled boldly.
"You've been livin' it up in our temple for way too long, bub. This ain't a luxury hotel," the Bogsneak returned his attitude right back, "if you're gonna be suckin' on a silver spoon while you're stayin' here then you're gonna have ta' pay your dues."
Bordeaux was shocked and appaled. "I don't need this!!" He uproared suddenly, scattering plates of food and upturning his nest of blankets, "I won't let you mistreat me like the dragon's at my last stay did! I was a MILLIONAIRE in my home clan, laydragons like you should be clamouring to house a businessman such as myself in your temple! I am noble! I am a respectable figure!"
But the Bogsneak was totally unphazed. "I don't wanna hear 'bout what you were," Frank scoffed at Bordeaux then, in a haughty attitude to match his own, "you coulda been king of the Beastclan for all I could care. what I DO care 'bout is what y'are now. And what you are is a freeloading bum.
"Now you can either put in a little honest work and earn 'yer keep while you're here, or you can get your sorry mug out of here! The choice is yers," she snarled, air hissing out of her nostrils as she enunciated her final word with a vicious stomp of her paw. This display told Bordeaux that she was for real, and as much as he hated to admit it, well.... ol' Bordie had getting a little desperate for a place to stay before he came here. Though the Guardian would hesitate to admit it, his superiority complex had gotten him shuttered out of a lot of clans as of late.
The Guardian swallowed his pride, and gave Frank a hesitant little nod, earning a smug, satisfied grin from the Bogsneak. Bordeaux would earn his keep. He was out of options.
...
During a stay wth the clan that panned much longer than Bordeaux had ever anticipated, Frank put great effort into whipping the Guardian right into shape. She slapped him on the clan's Coliseum team in place of Mojack, the sickly mate of their elder leader and father of their next-in-line, who used aiding the team in smaller venues of the Coliseum as a form of physical therapy. Bordeaux hadn't a clue what to expect when he was told to "pay his dues," but this was the most positively humiliating thing he could have thought up! The audacity of these dragons!!
Dragging Bordeaux through the Training Fields, Frank found great entertainment in heckling the Guardian as he struggled to fell enemies much more small and frail than himself -- although, she did also make sure to throw in the occasional word of encouragement to him, so he wouldn't become too discouraged. Every time Bordeaux started to gain some experience, improve his battle skills even a little, Frank would drag him into an even tougher venue to start him right back at square one.
Frank called it tough love. Bordeaux called it torture. But... it was proving to be paying off, he supposed. He felt physically stronger than before, and Frank did take the occasional opportunity to even compliment the Guardian on his progress. Her teachings were starting to stick.
And what was this... strange pride that Bordeaux felt in his chest, at his progress? He had no idea that working could feel so... fulfilling. Yes, tucking into some fancy dish of food or settling down for a decadent afternoon nap was nice, but it all felt so much better when he had earned it fighting in the Coliseum with his team first. He really hadn't been expecting such a turn of perspective! Maybe this is what his mother -- or was it one of his board members? -- had meant when they told Bordeaux of the personal growth he would be experiencing on his travels.
Eventually, Bordeaux decided to leave the clan. He thanked Frank and her clan both for their hospitality as well as their training, and while he tried to keep his tone passive-aggressive, it was easy to tell that he was being truthful. He really had been humbled by the experience. In turn, they thanked Bordeaux for his service in the Coliseum, and assured the Guardian that the treasures they had collected from the Beastclans they had felled during their skirmishes had been more than enough to pay off the debts he owed them for food and housing.
Hell, they even paid Bordeaux a sum of treasure as his share of the Coliseum profits! Earning his first paycheck made the Guardian's heart soar. Hey, actually working for his cash felt pretty good!
Levelled to level 10! 
Gladeshadow ProvinceUnfortunately, old habits die hard. As soon as Bordeaux found himself in a new area, he made no effort to keep from wasting every piece of treasure he had earned during fighting. He found an inn, but when he stared up to see a grand palace towering regally in the distance, he could not help but feel distasteful. So, he took a risk and decided to try for a more luxurious room.
After making a mad sprint toward the palace, he was halted by a lowly soldier, who inquired what his business was. Bordeaux started to huff. Did anyone know who he was and what his social standing was? Such insolence. He intended to make it very clear that he was upset, announcing in a superior voice, "I am the legendary Bordeaux, destroyer of monsters, achiever of greatness, and the very same famous owner of inns."
The guard stared at him with an amused expression. "Very well. The prince gives his welcome."
For a moment, Bordeaux was slightly surprised. "R-Really?" He had begun to get accustomed to people resisting his passage. "I mean, uh, certainly. I should think so." Wait a second... did that guy just say that he was the prince?
"The empress will see you," the guard said, nodding respectfully.
Bordeaux swelled with pride, then strutted into the palace carelessly.
He was immediately noticed by an odd obelisk lounging on a nearby sofa. "Goodie, goodie," she squealed, "another dragon off to see the world. You have the princess's welcome, stranger."
He looked at her for a moment in puzzlement. "Is someone pulling my leg?" he asked grumpily. "Is everybody royalty here?"
The princess gave a harsh laugh. "In this family, pretty much. I wouldn't doubt that you'd see at least twenty princes or princesses during your visit. Heh, what a silly little guardian."
Bordeaux went red with frustration. He stormed away, heading deeper into the palace. At long last, he finally encountered the queen, who was sitting upon a rather impressive throne carved out of emerald. Malachite crystals and other gemstones framed it decoratively, the light twinkling through them and sending rays shining throughout the chamber. Now this was the kind of company a guardian such as himself deserved to be in.
...
After inquiring of what he desired, the empress patiently listened to Bordeaux give a grand speech of how much he needed a room in the palace suitable for one such as himself. She calmly thought about his words, then nodded politely and offered to let him stay as an honorary prince--but only if he was willing to work for it. Naturally, he blanched at the thought, but he then remembered earning money from his coliseum venture and reluctantly agreed that he would accept these terms.
For the first day, the queen allowed him to relax in a chamber fit for a king. He gorged himself upon every delicacy they generously offered, napped upon a bed that was of an absurdly huge size, and soaked in a bath packed with herbal salts. It was amazing. It was very shortlived.
The very next morning, he was assigned his first task. His job was rather straightforward--deliver a meal to the jailor beneath the palace. He picked up his meal a little too late, already getting on the bad side of the chef, who glared at him as he strolled away with the cold food. He was handed a map of the underground, then sent down into the shadowy depths of a great labyrinth. Before he even reached the main tunnels, he was sweating and cramping from walking down the stairs for so long; and when he eventually found the main cave system, he immediately got lost. A few hours later, he found the hungry jailor, who, despite being rather irritated, politely escorted Bordeaux back to the surface.
Although he wanted nothing more than to pass out on the enormous bed, Bordie was met with a shock. His room had been downgraded due to his task being poorly completed. The empress, after giving him a disapproving glance and a small lecture, said that she would give him his original room back if he promised to do better next time. For once, Bordeaux was at a loss for words. He knew very well that she was not his actual mom, but she certainly behaved like one in how she acted towards him. How could he backtalk to that visible disappointment? He mumbled numbly that he would do better.
Next afternoon, while Bordeaux was in the middle of having tea, another random princess barged in and announced cheerfully that he was going to be helping her for the remainder of the day. He gave a last wistful look at his tea before quickly following the fae outside, where she then led him to an immense vineyard. His heart plummeted. Surely they didn't expect him to harvest plants? Fortunately for Bordie, Ovanha had another idea in mind. After discovering the fact that he had some coliseum experience (which he was immensely proud of), she then put him to the task of catching some vermin, with the exception that he was not to harm them. He pouted but set to work hunting down the creatures. For the entirety of the day, he snuck around the garden and caught over seventy various types of critters, stuffing them all into cages to be transported elsewhere. His honorary sister was very joyous with his success when he came up to her holding a mound of crates in his claws, and she gave him a big hug. It almost made him less cross with the fact that not only was he completely exhausted and starving, but that he was filthy as well. Almost. But when the queen came to survey his work and smiled, granting him use of his former luxury room, his aggravation faded completely.
...
For a few weeks, Bordeaux continued to work for his palace room and honorary prince status, feeling immense satisfaction every time he accomplished a troublesome task. It was still so strange and new to him--all of this work just to continue living in luxury. Despite temptations to stay here permanently, he still felt like something was absent from his life, and so he decided that one day he would leave in hopes of finding it. Perhaps it was vaster wealth? Maybe it was the charge that he had never had the willpower to find? Whatever it was, he knew he wanted it.
As he waved a final good-bye, Ovanha remarked that he looked different today somehow. For a moment, a sense of alarm shot through his body, and he quickly got his hands on a mirror. When he looked in it, he almost felt like he was looking at a stranger. His scales had brightened somehow, shifting into vivid colors; and the purple crust that had gathered across his body during his spending days had fallen away in flaking pieces. His eyes were different too, now holding within them a vibrant glow. He was stunning.
Clan TisaneExcited to show off his new look, Bordeaux travelled further East, but quickly found his travels halted due to a raging monsoon. He hurried to take shelter within the forest and was glad to come upon a Nocturne who seemed familiar with storms. He introduced himself as Cathal, and hurried Bordeaux to the safety of his clan without pausing to ask his name or creed.
Despite his protests of the callous treatment, Bordeaux found himself following the austere dragon, tripping over his Squall Rasa familiar as it hurried him along.
When they reached the clan keep, Bordeaux looked around in horror. He may have grown to accept the common-dragons' way of exchanging labour for lair space and luxury, but this was absurd. There wasn't even a castle! No mansion! Barely more than some caves and muddy hovels! Storm or no, a dragon of his status should never be forced to endure such... such MEDIOCRITY!
IS THAT A YURT
He thought about leaving. Before he started his travels he probably would have, but he's learned sometimes survival is more important than pride. Even if his survival currently hinges on these commoners.
He found himself swept up in the clan's preparations, carried into their protected keep like luggage. Turned around and bewildered, he travelled deeper and deeper into the elaborate network of caves with the rest of the clan.
"This storm will last a while," Cathal warned him before departing. "Make yourself at home."
Bordeaux watched with distress and resignation as the clan settled in for the long haul, curling up in warm piles of limbs and taking inventory of supplies.
He looked around for any dragon worth his company, and found his eyes drawn to an Aberration. He introduced himself to her and she called herself Regina. She sat with her Antique Chair familiar who she introduced as Ingrid.
Not his first choice of familiar but certainly one to match her regal name and gothic veneer. He asked her about status within her chosen clan, and why someone of her evident class would throw in with such misfits.
She looked him up and down and scoffed a little, clearly disdainful of his attitude.
"I was born here. I was different from how I am now. My form changed shortly after I was hatched, or so I've been told. It was the same for my Onyx. We bonded from our shared history and grew together, our forms still shifting until they settled as you see us now. These dragons took us in as eggs and stood by us throughout our strange development. You should respect them far more than any gluttonous monarch you may know."
She spat out 'monarch' with vitriol and hatred.
Bordeaux decided it was in his best interest to retreat. Not because she frightened him, of course. Only because she wouldn't show him the proper respect. Certainly.
He turned to sit alone, resigned to a solitary wait in this miserable cave. He was better than these dragons, he was only here out of necessity, until the storm breaks.
He sighed and laid his weary head upon his talons.
'At least it's warm,' drifted through his mind as he fell asleep.
...
He woke to find a warm body pressed against his spine and jolted up with a start, putting as much space between himself and the swine who deigned to enter his space as possible.
He glared and snarled in a rather undignified manner at the interloper, who smirked at him with a smug satisfaction.
"A thousand pardons, My Lord." The dragon bowed to him, voice smooth and teasing.
"I knew I was surrounded by commoners but I didn't realise such impropriety was commonplace in your culture." Bordeaux frowned.
The dragon laughed, revealing sharp white teeth. "What's your name, Traveller?"
"Why should I tell you, Peasant?"
"Snooty, aren't you? I like it. Basilton, at your service. And you are...?"
"Bordeaux. And I'll have you know I was a business owner, a lord, and a prince. I am not 'snooty', I am simply used to the finer things in life."
"Clearly. Would you not say I am a fine thing, Bordeaux?" Basilton gave a charming smile.
Bordeaux spluttered. Certainly the dragon had his charms, but he was clearly a sleazy, cheesy Lothario! Nothing more! And a common one at that!
But something about him...
"Croooooooak"
Bordeaux looked to the ground, where, initially obscured by Basilton's talons, sat a horned frog.
"What. Is. That. THING." He wailed, watching in horror as the Skydancer lifted the creature from the ground and allowed it to hop onto his wing.
"That thing is my companion. His name is Thyme. Does he frighten you, Your Highness?"
Bordeaux spluttered.
"You mock me with that slimy beast crawling on you?"
Basilton tickled Bordeaux's jaw with the tuft of his tail and laughed.
"Would you prefer to meet my familiar? She goes by Polka."
A Salve Kamaitachi scampered into view.
Bordeaux shrieked. "It's FERAL!"
"She's harmless, and her salves will do wonders for your complexion. You look like you could use some, they'll help get rid of those lingering scales from whatever you just shed." Basilton took the clay pot his familiar carried and offered it with a guileless expression.
Bordeaux huffed and blustered, but took the salve and sniffed at it, surprised to find a luxurious scent of bittersweet herbs and floral musk. He smeared it on with a grimace before returning the pot, seemingly no less full than when he started despite the indulgent quantity he had taken.
Almost immediately he felt the itchiness that had plagued him since he shed his purple crust disappear. He sighed in relief, almost missing the smug expression Basilton wore.
"Better?"
"Well, your crude gunk is better than nothing, I suppose." He huffed. "When can I leave this piteous wasteland you call a clan?"
"Oh, the storm's been over for hours, you slept through it. Like a baby. Not too good for a dirt nap after all." Basilton eyed him with amusement.
Bordeaux looked around himself for the first time and realised the caves were far less crowded than before.
"Well, it's not like there's anything better to do with your sort for company." Bordeaux huffed.
"There's plenty to do, my friend, you just have to stoop to our lowly level to find it. Come on, the younglings will have caught all the best bugs and fish by the time we get out there at this rate."
He had planned on leaving as soon as the storm was over, but famished as he was, Bordeaux supposed he could stay for one meal, even if that meant he had to catch it himself.
Still, it was with dragged feet and a greatly burdened persona that he followed the Skydancer out of the caves.
Despite his reluctance, he found it wasn't so dull harvesting the bounty the storm left in its wake. Basilton gave him pointers with a friendly wink, and before long he found himself laughing along with a mud-flecked trio of young guardians named Eggsy, Bunny, and Chik, who he wasn't sure weren't his distant cousins.
He gorged himself on the freshest grubs he had ever tasted, perhaps higher quality even than those he had bought at the wealthiest markets.
Perhaps there were some pleasures to this way of living after all, but Bordeaux decided to move swiftly on. There must be more to enjoy in other lands, he just had to figure out where to look.
Terrathorn TownHe headed west over Dragonhome and found the enormous quarry-city, Terraclae. Dragonhome's most elite lived in this area, he knew; surely he would be in for some high-class experiences. Perhaps he would find an unexplored cave full of treasures to plunder! Bordeaux got in a minecart-train on the surface and rode it into the underground part of one of Terraclae's districts, then wandered the little town until he found the yawning entrance of a tunnel.
When a tunnel has a sign saying DANGER: Do Not Enter. Keep Back During Tremors, one would think entering it a dangerous game. But Bordeaux took it as misdirection: The tunnel was wide open, not gated off. Surely someone was just trying to guard some rare ores or other gemstones, but badly. In any case, there were no tremors now, so Bordeaux lit a torch of leaves and sticks he'd gathered and wandered inside.
The tunnel curved and twisted, and he even came upon some forks in the path. The tunnel almost entirely lacked light sources aside from the occasional crystalline stalagmite or geode wall that emitted light from their own inherent magic -- but the thought that no sign of draconic activity spelled something worrisome didn't occur to Bordie at all, not even when his torch's flame flickered and it got hard to breathe.
The tremors started. That's when Bordeaux started to fear. What if the tunnel caved in? While he stood in place thinking about whether to go forward or run back the way he came, pebbles falling on his head with each new little earthquake, the skeletal wyrm appeared. His torchlight was so weak, he almost couldn't see it, nothing aside from a glowing yellow eye. Its roar nearly deafened him. Before he knew it, its jaws were around his middle, and it dragged him deeper into the tunnel. Its grip wasn't enough to pierce his hide, but its fangs still dug in enough to be painful.
It carried him out of the tunnel and into an open space, what appeared to be the center of town. Its next roar, with him still in its jaws, would cause his ears to ring for days. Dragons hurried from other alleyways, from within shops and buildings, looking fearful. Bordeaux squeezed his eyes shut. Not an audience to his humiliation!
An elegantly-dressed white-and-yellow Coatl with a sword on her hip appeared and bowed to the skeletal wyrm. "Cynosa. What seems to be the problem?"
The wyrm (which these dragons seemed to know by name?!) deposited Bordeaux to answer her. He was in too much pain to pay attention to their conversation, but the Coatl, named Cardeulis, asked him some questions. Who was he? Where did he come from? What was he doing before he entered the wyrm tunnel? In the end, it turned out that Cynosa was a guardian of the town; some tunnels had been provided for her to pass through the town if she needed, hence the warning sign. She simply wanted to make sure Bordeaux hadn't been a gem thief looking to mine precious stones and make off with them. (He, obviously, insisted he was a lost traveler who missed the signage.)
Ugh. If plundering gems was out of the question, what else was there to do around here?
Take a bath, as it turned out! In one of the caves underground was a bathhouse, with a series of cold shower faucets, hot spring pools, and a sauna room. There was even a counter selling soaps and salt scrubs. Bordeaux spent lavishly on the sauna-and-scrub spa package, which included claw grooming: he sat in the sauna to prime his scales, scrubbed himself down with special scrubs, rinsed in a cold shower followed by a soak in a hot spring pool. An attendant trimmed and filed his claws down. This was the treatment he deserved! A spa package fit for a king!
Unfortunately, he had no money left to stay in the motel on the surface. And there was nowhere fancier around. His options were to scrape together the money fast, or sleep outside in the dirt.
The spa proprietor allowed him to work as a paid intern -- he got credits to stay in the motel (surprisingly cozy place made of renovated train cars, plenty of room to relax, out of the dust and elements), then went each morning to the bathhouse. For several weeks, Bordeaux scrubbed the shower stalls, unclogged drains from loose fur, and brought brushes to patrons. Not only did he earn his keep at the motel, he also got enough money to eat at the diner nearby the hotel, and some extra for his journey.
All that, and a well-deserved sense of accomplishment.
Before leaving, Bordeaux paid for one more leisure day at the bathhouse, this time a basic shower-and-soak package. After the hot spring water simmered his worries and tension away, Bordeaux spent one last night in his cozy motel bed before finally moving on from Terrathorn Town.
He got no jewels, but perhaps the work he'd put in, the money he'd earned, and the experience he had washing shower stalls in the bathhouse was just as valuable.
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Lairs Visited Hyzenthlaay #452562 - Clan Mavenlark StormWind7201 #537856 - Clan of the Black Sun inkfrog #546245 Zikul #12962 Foxil #431112 - The Motherlands KnightOfAres #367955 - Clan Ares Levengale #171210 - Clan Kaishal Volrin #261879 - The Purified Temple GlowStorm #517008 - Gladeshadow Province MerlinEmrys #61556 - Clan Tisane Akaineko #209755 - Monastery of the Red Cat QueenClam #161167 - Clan Sgianath Aeranautics - Terrathorn Town
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