Murmur
(#66992783)
Level 1 Imperial
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50
out of
50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Imperial
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
24.38 m
Wingspan
18.08 m
Weight
8236.07 kg
Genetics
Eldritch
Metallic
Metallic
Charcoal
Noxtide
Noxtide
Maize
Firefly
Firefly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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 M U R M U R 
WITCHBORNE LINEAGE GENERATION V (GRETEEL'S LINE)
SIX OF PENTACLES
"Quote"
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. |
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A pale moon hung heavily in the sky as it cast its light upon a swirl of fog that obscured the lands below. The forms of great beasts shifted within these mists, their thick winter coats laden with dew as they wandered. It was dangerous leaving their territory and even more-so wandering into the lands claimed by those who swore to hunt them. . . but the fate of the three eggs they carried drove them onwards. The beasts had waited in anticipation, watching the full moon rise as they guarded their latest nest in the bowels of the palace called Moondore. The eggs gleamed ominously under the moonlight, but the dark fissures that typically marked the birth of their kind never appeared upon the shells. Indeed, the moon of the wolves had already come and gone in their land, and their children had failed to hatch. Their last hope was in the second rising of the moon in another land. . . one that was claimed and inhabited by Witchborne. The call of a sacred altar drew the beasts close, the last remnants of moonlight illuminating the pale stone. It was a place perched high atop a craggy outcrop that overlooked the sea, braziers on either side of a great stone slab lit with fire that cast long shadows upon the ground. The scent of herbs filled the air as the Barghests paced closer and the faint static of witch’s magic made the creatures’ hackles rise in agitation. It was no place for beasts. . . for child-eaters. Still, the pair of Barghests approached and laid their eggs upon the pale stone. They watched over the nest anxiously, waiting to see if the children would hatch. . . and finally the first dark fissures appeared and splintered across the luminous shells. They allowed themselves a moment of relief, but it was foolish to think that the presence of beasts in these lands would go undetected. The first child broke free of his shell with a faint cry and Beowulf was quick to nuzzle him in reassurance. The moonlight in this strange land washed over the firstborn child and his dark coat began to bleach under its influence, his underside assuming a pale coloration akin to the milk and honey used in Witchborne baptism. Before the remaining eggs could hatch, a powerful flicker of magic crackled through the air and the beasts knew they were no longer alone. Everything happened quickly after that. The Barghests knew they were in no position to fight - not in a strange land and after using much of their own strength to conceal themselves while traveling. Beowulf grabbed their firstborn by the scruff as the pair fled. A figure approached the altar, powerful magic crackling around their form. The Witchborne inspected the remaining two eggs, whispering over them as they continued to hatch. It was clear that the witch recognized her own magic reflected within these children. It was dark and twisted. . . yet it flickered faintly and she had hope that such creatures could still walk a noble path. The fire roared around them and water crashed upon the rocks far below as the two newborn children stared up at the witch with gleaming eyes. As was custom for all children of their kind, she drew their cards and left a third behind on the table as a blessing for the child that had already been whisked away. The queen of cups. . . the six of pentacles. . . and finally, left behind on the altar; the hermit.
Layout and artwork by awaicu
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Exalting Murmur to the service of the Arcanist 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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