SeaShanty » Lair » Scathach

Scathach

(#68212226)

Level 25 Wildclaw

Familiar

Barhide Menace

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

6.6 m

Wingspan

7.52 m

Weight

591.2 kg

Genetics

Coal
Skink

Garnet
Trail

Auburn
Runes

Hatchday

Mar 24, 2021
(3 years)

Breed

Adult
Wildclaw

Eye Type

Light
Common

Level 25 Wildclaw

Max Level

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Hymir
Hervor

Offspring

Biography

S C A T H A C H

"Queen of the Cardinal Wood" | Theme

Composed, Dependable, Stubborn

Queen of the forest
Take us in your wings
Lead our spirits true
Show our sun-bright love

Lend us a feather
Through twilight veiled and dark
We shall make wings
Fly strong through winds and wiles

Wide-sight take us through the mist
Hunting mind and safe song
Rite of passage keeping guard
Give us foresight and wings

O' Queen of the Wood

Traveling a ways north from Satiir Rho brought you to the edge of a great wood. You had heard tell of this forest, the Cardinal or Great Red Wood in name, or so you had caught the whispers. The dragons that lived in its heart were mysterious but fiercely loyal to not just the Crown, but their own clan. Hilly terrain surrounded you now, the land having because churned from the relatively flat plains of the rest of the kingdom. Breeze rustled the looming edge of the woods and blew its burnished red and gold leaves around you, stirring in strange whispers from within. Strange, you think, that this forest’s leaves are the color of autumn despite the rest of the world being in high summer. But it is beautiful, you add on. You turn northeast and stride along the wood’s edge, following over hill and glen and rocky scree.

After two hours you still could not see a suitable entrance to the woods, or at least not one with a beaten path. While the forest seemed warm and inviting, it was turning dark with the forming clouds overhead. Just as you felt you might give up you crested one final hill to see giant standing stones along a wide gravel path. Two towering ones stood sentinel at the edge of the forest and smaller and smaller stones progressed along the path until they appeared to artfully crumble to respectable boulders, then rocks, then pebbles. Summer wildflowers in a rainbow of hues sprung around the bases of the sparkling, freckled granite monoliths, dancing in the sweeping winds. As you moved closer you could see that the granite was a beautiful silvery-gray and flecked with a glittering blue and black mineral, tiny motes of white quartz adding further glimmer in the gloomy light. And, had your eyes not been wandering along their surfaces, you might’ve missed the blocky yet artful carvings and paintings on their surface. No two stones were alike, until you made a stop at the enormous guardian stones edging the trees. Precise and complicated knotwork decorated their bases from ground level to about the height of your head, and for the several meters above they crawled with images of deer, crows, bears, stars, waves, ships, birds, and even more crows. You marveled that the two stones were perfectly symmetrical in shape and carving.

The soft scrabble of talons over rock made you reel back from your intense observation to look around. No dragons in your immediate vision. You turn to look behind you and search the tree line, still nothing. A hiss of warning slithers above you and the speed at which you crane your head to look for the owner of the sound gives you whiplash. Where before there had been no one now perched two Wildclaws, one crowning each monument. Both were dressed rather simply and without elaborate patterns or jewelry. Both held fierce looking spears. One, wearing a hooded cloak made from a wolf, spoke, his voice gruff but clear.

“Approach no further, we will escort you, Traveler, through the Cardinal Wood. We have heard of you from our friends in the kingdom,” the two dragons barely open their wings before jumping down from the towering rocks. They both land in front of you and the one who hadn’t spoke, a female, stepped towards you quietly, motioning with a jewel-dark wing for you to follow. With the two guards at your sides the three of you walked into the darkening autumnal forest. You all walked in silence and, in the gloom, you saw tiny white and gold fireflies flashing sporadically through the trees. The faraway hoot of a lone owl made your ears perk and the sound of three sets of talons on the gravel created a soothing rhythm. At one point you could swear you heard the male guard humming some tune, muttering foreign words under his breath at times. Time had no clear passage under the trees, but you could feel the path stretching uphill and detect that a light patter of rain began to fall on the dense canopy above.

It felt as if hours had passed since you had started walking with the guards, but something told you it hadn’t even been close as you entered a space where the large trees thinned. Your legs burned from the uphill climb and your throat itched for water.

“Welcome Traveler, to the Crow’s Hearth. We are but a clan of humble warriors that tend to our flocks and farms, sometimes fish. Tread respectfully and we will harbor no ill affection towards you, treat you with respect in return.” It was the male speaking again. He had flicked back his hood and you could see more of his natural coloring. Smoky gray fur and striking red feathers, the color of garnets or rubies, or blood. Intense eyes trained on the large village betrayed love in their gaze. He noticed your staring and inclined his head for you to observe the village. All the dragons walking took no looks in your direction, all busy with their evening chores. All of them bore some marking and color similarity to your two guards. The village was made up of sturdy longhouses, many with outside pens and porches holding looms, the bleating of goats and sheep ringing throughout the air. Dark clouds had gathered, and the scent of rain ran through your nostrils, but no one seemed worried, in fact, the dragons of the village seemed excited with the taste of an oncoming storm. With the first distant flash of lightning, your eyes were drawn to a large structure atop a small hill. It was similar to the rest of longhouses in aspects of its architecture but was many times larger and felt more like a fortress than the surrounding village. Colorful paintings lined it and you could barely make out carvings in its trimming. Lanterns were lighting around the town when the guards nudged you forward.

“We take you now to our Lady, our Queen, and so she shall give you her blessing to stay for as long as you wish. Worry not about our specific etiquette, but please show her deference at the very least. Go,” he motioned with his spear, “to the Great House.” You followed his spear point and stared once more at the fort-like structure. Nodding, you begin to pass through the heart of the village toward the small, cleared cobble trail up to it. Every now and again, faces turn to watch your steps before giving either a curious look or simply turning back to their activities. You make your way up the gentle slope and see another rotation of guards, but this time standing brazenly in front of the door; once more a male and female pair, but not bearing the same colors as the rest of the Wildclaws you had seen so far. One eyes you before turning and gazing straight across the lower clearing to your escort, who still stood at the entrance to the town. An almost imperceptible nod passes through the parchment-colored dragon’s head and the two move aside for you to enter through the heavy wooden door. As you pass, the guards hammer the butts of their spears twice upon the smooth cobbles with quiet chants in an unknown tongue, closing their formation behind you once you’ve crossed the threshold.

It is fairly dim inside, golden light from strange lamps throwing their luminous fingers across the earthen walls. Heat suffused the enclosed space, and your eyes were greeted with a roaring central fire. The long house was lined with several posts and beds and tables. Furs of all kinds lay draped or crumpled over surfaces and rafters, cups and plates lay around, and many of the tables appeared to be covered in several sorts of work. There was so much to take in upon entering the space that your mind was taken completely away from the fact that you were being watched. And finally, your eyes settled on a hulking bed across the central hearth from you. The bed was wider and longer than others in the home and all the furs upon it were a creamy white, thick and plush. Colorful and decorative woolen weavings made a point of interest on the platform. Upon the space sat a regal dragoness, her head held high and her back and wings settled comfortably against the wall. It was her brightly glowing eyes that stood out the most in the dark space, despite the many lamps surrounding her place of rest. Her body was a rich grey the color of coal and ash, her red wings like shifting garnets you had seen in a market long ago, and dimly lit rune-shapes along her uncovered body were the shade of strong and heady wood. She was dressed well, and the fabrics looked richer than some of the outfits you had seen on others in the village. Two great fluffy cats lazed on either side of her. After a moment of staring, words pervaded your stupor.

“Welcome graciously, dear Traveler. We have heard of you from our Great Queen in the kingdom of Light, across the moors. I am Lady Scathach, of this Crow’s Hearth.” You find yourself bowing deeply and listening to her words intently. Her voice is strong as new iron, powerful, but not harsh, and almost motherly. She sounds like she might be a great singer or storyteller. The motion of a hand patting the air gently in the dim light summons forth another from the shadows of the house, who brings you a heavy flagon of drink and moving you to sit on a well-worn bench across from the Lady. You wondered why such an important dragoness only two guards and a single servant had to protect her. Not that she looked weak in any way but compared to the kingdom you had just visited it was a great difference. “I apologize that my husband is not here to greet you also, but he sends his honors and regard for you. This is a village of great warriors, all of us trained in fight even though we may seem peaceful. Rest assured Traveler, that you will be safe here, no matter the danger.

“I wanted to see to it that you know you are granted safe travel through our territory. An escort is available to you at all times if you wish it. While this village is safe, there are many strange things within our autumnal wood that are all too happy to harm a lone stranger in its midst. As well as passage, you are welcome to settle here in the Great House for the duration of your stay. We offer you room and board gladly, but do not take too much advantage of it, lest you stay your welcome. Once again, wel—”

Lady Scathach’s words are cut off by a massive white raven flapping noisily through a large hole in the roof towards her. It craws harshly as it lands on her shoulder, preening at a wayward fold of cloth in her mantle. Beady blue eyes lock to yours and it clacks its beak a few times before cackling again. It leans up to her ear and gables fast, low. Lady Scathach’s eyes become hooded as she listens, her mouth moving in a mutter. The white raven stops conversing and tweaks a rich read crest feather of the Lady before looking at you hungrily. The Wildclaw weaves her head for a second before speaking again.

“Snöblomma tells me the winds blow favorably for you, young one. She also tells me that my husband requests to meet you as well, but in the morning by the docks, at Sól’s first Light.” She offers no explanation for suddenly speaking to a bird. Before you can ask, she continues. “It grows night, however, and we shall eat under Máni’s guiding stars. Come,” Lady Scathach announces, standing fast. You see her handmaiden move to follow as the Lady sweeps forward and gathers you companionably beneath her dark wing, leading you both towards the longhouse door. It opens and the two guards from before showing faint smiles as you are ushered through the door and down to a large open space in the clearing. In the short time you took audience with the Crow Queen, an immensely long table had been set up and the whole village had gathered around it.

The rest of the night was steeped in welcoming festivities and you were shown many a concept and custom by the village of Wildclaws. Hatchlings ran between the legs of adults, play fighting and tugging at your strange clothes. When the moon reached its zenith, everyone turned in to their respective homes and you were escorted back to the Great House. Within you were shown a comfy bed that felt almost too small to lay on, so you found yourself awkwardly sleeping sitting up, back against the wall, with loud male snores coming from the other side of the home til morning.

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Exalting Scathach 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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