Urslie » Hibernal Den » Asclepius

Asclepius

(#67782014)

Level 25 Mirror

Familiar

Mossy Cerdae

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

5.53 m

Wingspan

5.6 m

Weight

450.32 kg

Genetics

Stone
Iridescent

Blood
Current

Blood
Thylacine

Hatchday

Mar 05, 2021
(3 years)

Breed

Adult
Mirror

Eye Type

Plague
Rare

Level 25 Mirror

Max Level

STR

114

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Mint
Basque

Offspring

none

Biography

_Name:

Asclepius

_Profession:

Necromancer

_Personality:

Skeptical

A Crown of Thorns

Theme Song: INSANE

Amidst a gathering of his peers, Asclepius rocked back and forth in an addled delirium, rubbing his head into the dirt in pain as the Plaguebringer's disease coursed through him. Like his mother and father before him he was taking on the Necromantic Trials, willing to endure twenty-four days of suffering and hardship in order to achieve complete mastery over the element of plague. Those around him were here to do the same, each and every one of them currently battling their own strain of Wyrmwound plague in the hope of becoming one of the next generation of proud Necromancers.

The title of Necromancer was a coveted one that commanded great respect from all who knew their sect, their devotion to the Plaguebringer and mastery of their element unrivaled. Even the failures, those who became Necroservi and Ghouls, were automatically treated with more reverence than any other plague dragon was afforded, simply by virtue of having attempted the trials. The scars they developed during the trials were proof of their connection to the Plaguebringer, intimate badges of her recognition- if not approval- of the dragon that bore them. It took an incredible amount of strength and resilience to even be considered as a potential candidate for the trials, and an even greater heaping of those same traits to be accepted as a candidate, then make it to the edge of the Wyrmwound to bow in reverence before the Plaguebringer for her corrupting blessing. Out of the few who received her blessing, even fewer would be able to overcome the dizzying illness that followed, and fewer still would develop the ability to control plague- and thus, earn the title of Necromancer. Through the intense coaching of his parents, Asclepius had just barely passed the physical and mental tests of the pre-trials. Now, in the thick of the real Necromantic trials, he struggled to hold onto his life and sanity.

Twenty days ago the Plaguebringer had drizzled the assembly of Necromancer novices with her latest concoction, flung from the end of her pestilent aspergil, sowing the seeds of her trial within them. The hopeful candidates had then gathered around the Wyrmwound, gazing into the glowing green depths of that acrid plague-filled pot as they incubated the bacteria they had been blessed with, waiting for infection to present itself. One by one they fell under the influence of never before seen infections, clinging to the sides of the Rotrock Rim as they struggled to overcome the illnesses that plagued them. A few, as always, went away disappointed having developed no disease; a sign that they had been called to another path in life though, to some elitist few, it was also a sign of the Plaguebringer's rejection. Fortunately for Asclepius, he was not one of them- he had begun to show signs of his infection around the same time most of his peers did, at the seven day mark, thus passing the first official trial.

...

The first is the Trial of Infection. Plaguebringer must acknowledge their ambition by touching their flesh with plague. If no plague develops after thirteen days, the dragon is considered unworthy and fails.

...

Now, thirteen days into his illness, Asclepius was exhausted. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he ground the side of his face into the earth, clawing at the dirt for relief. It had been days since he'd been able to get any amount of sleep, jolting awake to a new spike of pain the moment he began to doze off. Whatever his infection was, it was relentless, taxing his mind and body beyond anything he'd trained for. Breathing hurt, his throat so sore he had stopped eating from the meager rations given to the candidates days ago. Every time he moved, his joints screamed in protest as the inflamed bones ground against each other. His head pulsed as strange sensations washed over him, disorienting him further. Yet, delirious as he was, he knew that if he didn't overcome this plague soon, he would surely die. Raising his head from the ground to look at the ever-hazy sky, trying to get any amount of clarity he could, Asclepius gasped as his vision swam and sparks exploded in his sight.

The sickly green and grey clouds above him faded into nothingness as massive bursts of pure golden light exploded into existence above them. Asclepius watched in wonderment as hundreds of golden orbs sparked in and out of existence, dancing across the sky as they bathed the landscape in their light. Feeling something writhing beneath his paws, Asclepius looked down at his feet to see vivid red veins of infection wriggling on the ground. The moment he looked at it, the infection shrieked as it desperately tried to get away. All around him other veins of infection peeled themselves from the ground and flew up into the sky, threading between the golden orbs that pulsed in and out of existence to create one of the strangest displays he had ever seen. The light turned the wriggling veins nearly translucent, revealing the disease inside as it flowed through intricate structures within the veins as they twisted through the air.

Looking back down at the vein caught between his claws, Asclepius considered it for a moment. Holding it up to the sky, he watched the infection sluicing through it, carefully observing each fibrous branch that gave it structure. He noticed inside the vein was a blockage of dead cells, constricting the flow of the infection through it, limiting its capabilities. Concentrating, he willed the plague inside to carefully poke and prod at the blockage, pulling it apart and allowing the infection to flow freely again. Releasing the vein he watched as it flew up into the sky, joining its brethren in their unusual display. The light glowed brighter as the veins moved faster then, suddenly it all faded into nothing.

Asclepius awoke to find his fever was gone. His aches and pains had disappeared, breathing no longer so painful. He knew the infection was gone and, with it, the second of three trials was over.

...

The second is the Trial of Survival. Dragons prove their strength by fighting the plague and keeping it from consuming them whole by any means necessary. If they are successful the plague is suppressed and goes dormant, appearing on their skin as a series of slashing stripes across the spine and the edges of their wings.

...

Getting up, Asclepius went to see the master Necromancer who was presiding over the trials. Somehow, he felt as though this trial would be easy for him, an intuition he felt deep in his bones. Silently bowing to the master, Asclepius demonstrated his new mastery over plague.

...

The final test is the Trial of Contagion. By the dawn of the twenty-fourth day the dragon must prove its dominion of the plague by both passing it on to another being through touch and calling it back again. Control of disease is a divine gift and the true Necromancer should be able to spread and cure it with ease. If a dragon can spread the disease but not dampen it, they are given the inferior title of Necroservus, and are usually bound to an accomplished Necromancer as their servant.

...
[WIP]

Awesome gijinka by katbutts! :3

assets by Poisonedpaper
P.S. If you want to know how to code the portrait just ask me, kwozmotis! I had trouble getting it at first too.

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Exalting Asclepius to the service of the Lightweaver 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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