Artis
(#66341564)
Level 5 Nocturne
Familiar
Spring Sphinx
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 48/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Nocturne
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.22 m
Wingspan
5.5 m
Weight
613.23 kg
Genetics
Spring
Basic
Basic
Stone
Basic
Basic
Fern
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Nocturne
EXP: 3945 / 5545
STR
28
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
15
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
Quote:
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HEY!!! This dragon is not complete yet! Snippets and incomplete appearances are inbound! Things remaining for this dragon are: Genes/Clothes, Lyrics, MORE Lore/Formatting(?) Art |
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rules || levelling guide Quote:
"There's kings in distant cities,
who rule their persons and make them happy and 'We won't forget about all the servisory congratulatory!' Even the animals know that something's brewing and they're all cooing. Cause in the end, I'd like to say 'No one's better than you.'" ▷|| ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ The Whole World & You | Chonny Jash |
 a r t i s the fallen star "the hole in my chest breathes like a stupid mistake." pronouns he/him occupation royal alignment chaotic neutral personality competitive, generous, ambitious
strength
|▓▓▓▓▓▓░░░| dexterity |▓▓▓░░░░░░| constitution |▓▓▓▓▓▓▓░░| intelligence |▓▓▓▓░░░░░| wisdom |▓▓▓▓▓▓░░░| charisma |▓▓▓▓▓░░░░| |
about.
he falls from the sky like a meteor. the impact of his body leaves a crater, pockmark scars across his scales in reflection of the fall, each individual divot a reminder. he sleeps there for days, a and the crystals seem to grow towards him, curl around him like teeth in a closing jaw, the green of him bleeding into their purple. over time they close, the shell of an egg, and he glows faintly within. around him, the spires grow, form a castle, fueled by his dreams alone, curling up into the sky, as if reaching to brush the floating isles themselves. when he opens his eyes finally, he is not alone. this castle grown around him echoes with footfalls of two more dragons, unaware of his presence, relishing in having a strange and wonderful home. he breaks from his geode in quiet majesty, and they bow. they call him king. they call him the fallen star. he tells them his name is artis, that he has a sister somewhere, a twin fallen comet. they prostrate, ask if he wants them to search for her, they would do anything for him. and oh it strikes such a cord within him, some deep part of him he did not know existed. and he bids them stay, live in his strange and wonderful home. his subjects, his fallen stars. his crystals form a throne, beautiful rooms for ayaka and beetle and others yet unknown. ambition grows in his chest. they establish a life on the isle, and guard themselves from harpies and chimeras and arcane dragon clans. his existence, the way crystals bend to him, is a heresy against the Arcanist himself, who has yet to turn his Eye on this kingdom. but they laugh at the prospect. by the time the arcane god knows of them, they're confident they will be too powerful to be struck down. artis promises them safekeeping, and his subjects promise him might. 
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first blood.
they take to the starwood with ferocity. the do not sulk through the trees like ambush predators. heatherbed lilies crumble under their feet. the pangolins, not used to dragon intrusion, do not even flee, just watch with curiosity. artis sits and waits, his companions tense with anticipation on either side of him. when the centaurs come they do it in a rumble of hoofbeats. each of them heavily armed, each of them furious at the trespassers. a large, heavyset centaur steps forward, careful of the lilies beneath her hooves, arrow nocked on her bow, eyes narrowed at the dragons. "you do not belong in the starwood strand," she says, with no preamble. "we have an agreement. why do you not honor it?" artis smiles. "we are part of no agreement. we go where we choose." he looks around the shining blue and lavender trees, sparkling in the dawns light. he turns back to the herd leader. "this place is lovely." he stands, his wings half spread, bringing himself to his full height. "we have a new agreement. this is our territory, and you do not belong here." her eyes alight with fury and without missing a moment she draws her bow back and fires an arrow directly at artis-- who snaps it between his teeth. the toothpick crunch is all it takes and ayaka and beetle leap on the herd with thunderous rage. a flurry of teeth and spears and claws and magic. wing beats and hoof stomps and yells and roars alike. the pangolins flee. the battle does not rage long. after the first centaurs fall, the herd leader calls a retreat and the dragons let them go. the beauty of the grove has been disturbed. the lilies all torn up from root. beetle takes the moments to extend the wards from around the castle to include this part of the forest. artis cleans the blood from his claws in satisfaction. "you fought well," he says to both of them. beetle does not look up from its scribing but ayaka glows with pride. "come, let us rest, and drink, and celebrate this victory. soon, we will take more." |
 
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hatchlings.
ayaka and beetle return from patrol with three hatchlings. an older, nervous guardian calling himself gyre. a headstrong boy called devara. and an eager child named zary. beetle tells him the found them atop some of the crystals of the reaches. zary bit off beetle's little claw when it tried to get them down. artis laughs at that, pays no heed to beetle's glare. he looks down at the three of them, huddled, various emotions across them all. they are probably each rejects from experiments in the focal point. if they are, he can harbor some sense of shame and anger and shape them into weapons. and zary so specifically wants to be a weapon. "you may stay here with us, if you like. we can give you a home. security. teach you to fend for yourselves, teach you blades and magic and art." he does not think far enough ahead to know what path to take if they say no. and he never has too--all three agree to stay. ayaka shows them to rooms the crystal castle has formed already in anticipation for their arrival. |
 
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squire.
her name is fifteen. they wake to the sound of her hollering in the courtyard, making an intense amount of noise. everyone in the castle comes to see--from windows and from the main hall door. she stands proud, feisty, a poorly made and poorly fitted sword on her hip. "i want to train under you," she says the moment artis emerges. she ignores beetle's indignant cry demanding to know how she bypassed the wards. artis waves him down calmly. "i heard how you fought the hollowroot herd. i want to help. they killed my family and i want to take them down with you." the gusto in her voice fades a bit. "please." beetle bristles. "she could be a spy from the centaurs. we do not know her we cannot trust her--" "we have little to lose," artis says calmly. "if she proves herself untrustworthy, we kill her." he says this looking directly into her eyes, and she swallows hard. "welcome to the kingdom of fallen stars. the training hall is this way." |
 
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another guest.
merrion comes investigating the crystals. ey, unlike fifteen, cannot bypass the wards. instead ey waits for ayaka's patrol, and approaches the guardian politely. ey is an exile from the tourmaline archives, punished for researching forbidden magic. looking for a new clan. ey is older and more skilled than fifteen, but by very little. artis knows eir knowledge of the library could be valuable, and still banks on using hatred of the arcanist to mirror love for him. so he welcomes em, feeds merrion a lavish meal. beetle, strangely, takes to em quickly, the two discussing magic and science like old friends. artis watches, half listening. this ramshackle kingdom is growing, and quickly. |
 
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ambush.
artis, beetle, and fifteen set out on patrol. they let fifteen lead, a moment to prove herself, and she does so eagerly. she is very familiar with the starwood, and they meet very little opposition for most of the day, hunting rather than fighting. beetle spends the trip detailing the nwe hobby he's picked up--blacksmithing. weapon making as science, as an art form. artis listens kindly, but fifteen is tense. her head and ears are on a swivel. "do you smell something?" beetle asks, cutting off its own sentence. artis sniffs the air. fifteen shakes her head before she speaks. "no, i just. . . feel something. my scales prickle." she wrinkles her nose, closes her primary eyes, scans the brush for heat. nothing but owls and pangolins and rabbits. artis and beetle exchange a look. likely the nerves of a young fighter on her first mission, nothing more. they do not slow, but she wishes they would. but no, artis moves with the confidence of a king in his own land despite the contested nature of it, and beetle is ever his mirror. fifteen still heads the party, but it feels so deeply less like she is leading. she moves like a frightened cat, spine tense, ear frills flattened back. the afternoon sun is high and warm and bright, and suddenly-- "no!" fifteen's cry cuts through the silence and they barrel into artis, the pair of them tumbling flat onto the ground, their body covering his as much as they can. an arrow--fast, large, deadly--flies through the air where artis' chest had been moments before. the meadow erupts into noise and chaos as centaurs burst from the trees. though they have the element of surprise it does not last, and artis lives. fifteen shines in the fight, as if she anticipates every strike against her and her companions, she is everywhere all at once. they win, just barely, all lungs heaving as the centaurs retreat back into their woods. fifteen is shaking. artis and beetle look at them, stunned, impressed. artis touches them gently. "let us return," he murmurs. "we can discuss this more at home." |
 
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constellate.
artis can feel hir coming. he cannot name the itch in his scales that pulls him to the courtyard by name, but he still feels it. still follows it. an unbidden, unknown call. he sits, staring down at the grass for hours, ignoring his subjects questions, waving them all away. this task is more important than patrols, than training, than experimentation. no, this is a part of his soul making a demand, and who is he not to listen. the itch grows as the sun passes over the sky. when arev breaks the surface zie does so coughing like a drowning victim. zie squint against the harsh sun, and artis shifts his body so his shadow falls across hir. a small kindness. when their eyes meet a thousand sensations return, the memory of cosmic stardust reverberating between the pair in a silent momentary eternity. the pause before they embrace is imperceptible--no onlooker can tell what exchange even took place, and only sees two siblings reuniting. but arev and artis know. they had not met yet in this life. but arev is welcomed into his court warmly nonetheless. |
 
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shatter.
the hatchlings are, of course, a trap. it never even crosses artis' mind that the beastclan he'd picked a war with would go to arcane clans with word of his kingdom and suggestion of a treaty. he would never have dreamed they'd use arcane hatchlings as bait. so when he finds the four--cornwallis, aviva, xylon, and ewen--he does not even think about their origins. too many hatchlings get abandoned in the isles, why should these be of any note. and he is wrong. distracted with these four, they do not notice the scouts taking abriella. his daughter, his little petal. when they return and she is gone, and signs of intruders are all along the barrier, they assume the worst. the mourning last officially for a day. artis mourns forever. rewrite this! abriella dies a few days After, falling to her death while playing with the other hatchlings. in his grief artis drives them out which is what causes the arcanist to get pised and demand another sacrifice. |
 
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sacrifice.
The 11 are angry with your kingdom and demand a blood sacrifice. Roll for a 1d4 for an event. 1. You offer a random dragon as a sacrifice. The 11 are pleased and take the dragon into their care. Choose a dragon at random who is not the royal (devara). Regardless of lives, this dragon is exalted. Choose three dragons at random, they each gain an extra life as a blessing (gyre, beetle, artis). infuriated by artis' treatment of hatchlings that hed taken in, the arcanist basically goes "oh you care so little for life?? fine. give me another. idiot." |
 
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title.
20-30 matches. gyre, fifteen, and marrion |
by spelltag!! linked image
bio layout by incalyscent
modified and written by cordiformed + seph0silver!
modified and written by cordiformed + seph0silver!
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Exalting Artis to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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