Fourth generation Naomi
Naomi > Willow > Dismas > Me

4th Generation Ignis #666
Ignis > Marduk > Dismas > Me






“So what exactly is all this?” Dolorosa asks. She promptly takes a step back as a glob of clay goes flying off the table. “You dragged me out to some dreadful little haven in the middle of nowhere, one of my younger brothers is here and you…” Dismas doesn’t seem to pay her attention. He keeps on kneading through the reddish clay on the table before him. Her golden eyes drift to the broad man in the corner instead, his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat. “... Who even is that?”

“One, I think it would do you well to maybe spend some time with your siblings,” Dismas says finally, lifting his head to look at her. “Two, Osiris is my retainer, and Evike is on a different mission from me.” He lifts the clay. “And this… Is going to be a very, very good prank.”

“You… Dragged me out here.. For a prank,” Dolorosa hums, looking at the lump in his hands. Her mouth hangs open slightly. “Father, I-“

“You’re the thirteenth! Come on, you’re the most chaotic out of all of us!” Dismas exclaims, another glob of clay flying off. “It will be hilarious and very satisfying.”

“Is this about aunt May displacing your wardrobe-“

“No. No, it is not,” Dismas says, holding up a finger, turning right back to the table. “Osiris, come here.”

The Wildclaw takes a deep breath, tipping his hat back. “If I knew you were gonna make me shape earth I woulda brought less spiffy gear,” he hums. He moves over to Dismas' side, coming to stand in a comforting lean against him. “What shape does it need to have?”

“We’re hmm… Creating something that can hold things within itself, and look cute enough to fool someone,” he hums. “It doesn’t need to be powerful. It just needs to feel alive, and chaotic. Something that’s willing to make trouble.”

“Ah,” Dolorosa exclaims quietly. Dismas meets her gaze with a smug grin. She can’t help but match her father’s expression. “That’s where I come in then?”

“Our power of two, alongside your wild magic, yes,” Dismas nods, pulling his hands away. Osiris’ calloused hands begin to shape the earth with loving reverence. Eyes, whiskers, square little horns. Dismas holds up his palm. “It’s not much different from what I do when I create my… Emissaries. But these aren’t built to last.”

“Mother would love that idea,” Dolorosa hums quietly. Dismas' ears flatten against the side of his head and he turns away from her. Dolorosa narrows her eyes. “Right. I had forgotten.”

Osiris whistles. “Alright Doll, Dima, I’m done.” He lifts his thumb and bites it hard enough to draw blood. He presses a dot of blood on the forehead of each clay statue. He steps back to give them space. “Do your thing.”

Dismas is shaken from his thoughts, ears perking up. “Excellent! Time to get these little rascals up and running!” Dismas exclaims. He pulls his Diamond dagger from his belt, drawing it along his palm. With his other hand, he pulls his fingers through his blood and anoints both the forehead and the horns of the statues. He steps back, taking a deep breath that restitches the wound immediately. “Now, Dolorosa, I need you to focus your magic into animating them. Shouldn’t be too hard for you, considering your parentage.” He smiles at her, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Of course, Khthonios,” Dolorosa snaps, nudging Dismas aside with her shoulder. He retreats back to the wall next to Osiris with a huff. She stands a few meters away from the table, her eyes honing in on the three statues. Right. Just animate them and don’t think too much about the rest. She slides her foot back, extending her hand. Just a spark.

A swirling, light green energy twirls around her hand, ribbonlike and frail. It’s quiet small magic, as always.

Until it’s not.

Her weight dents the floor, and through the cracks flowers and ferns shoot up. The bright green energy on her fingers shoots forth and hits the statues, sending her flying backwards. Dismas sprints from his position against the wall to catch her, taking the majority of the impact onto himself. Osiris has anchored himself to the wall with his climbing pick.

Dismas doesn’t move until the dust settles. The first thing he sees is the blown open roof and the thin, willow-like tree that has broken through the ceiling. When he lowers his gaze to where the table was, he doesn’t see three animated statues. Instead, three wildly confused children sit amongst a bed of lilies and ferns, gold and silver shimmering on their hide. Perfect gems down to the last hair. Adam can sense they’re not truly alive. Their bones resound like gold, and their hearts don’t beat. But there is life in their brown eyes, blessed by the earth itself.

Dismas can feel his heart sinking.


Lore by Mir



Eros was content. No, he was extremely pleased. The fact that Dismas, his retainer Osiris, and his elder sister came all this way to visit him, deep in the heart of Dragonhome? In his mind, all was perfect with the world.

Until it wasn't.

The sound of a small blast echoed through the ravine he had been exploring, and his immediate reaction was to run. There was no way to fly upward, for the crack in the earth was far too thin towards the ceiling of the formation. All he could do was focus on the path ahead of him, his feet sliding against the incline as he progressed towards the exit.

As he ran, he was showered by dust, deep rumbles surrounded him, and observed strange roots worming their way through the surrounding earth. As he finally reached the surface, he inhaled sharply.

The building designated for his father and company was in shambles, with the roof blown far from the foundation and a tree marking the epicenter of what Eros assumed to be the initial blast. The ground beneath his feet seemed to hum with energy as Dismas made his way out of the structure, immediately followed by three, smaller shadows behind him.

"Oh dear."

Lore by Perseverance



Ausir was not born, but created. Formed from clay, and the magic of her creator & his companions.

It started as a prank, an experiment, but in the end there were 3. What were once 3 statues of clay, only moments ago, were now living an breathing beings.

Upon her first breath, she was immediately imprinted on by the energy in the room. Not just the overall energy, but the energy that was spewing from the dragon she called Father.

"Oh dear", are the first words she ever heard, and those words would follow her wherever she went.

~ ~ ~


The world of clay and magic is cloaked in secrecy and enigma, beckoning those curious enough to unravel its mysteries. The malleable nature of clay, coupled with the ethereal quality of magic, creates a potent mixture of creativity and wonder. Whether used to craft beautiful sculptures or cast spells that bend reality, the combination of clay and magic promises a journey that is both exhilarating and unpredictable. For those who dare to venture into this realm, the rewards are as limitless as the imagination can conjure.

Ausir contained a power within her that some dragons couldn't fathom.
Her body, her power, thrived off the energy of others. The energy that others give off is influenced by emotion, making it ever changing, and her body took every bit of it in. For what seemed like ages, she was unable to control this power, she destroyed anything that would come into her path. Buildings and beings would fall in her wake of destruction. Everything she touched, she would inevitably destroy.

As time past, and Ausir aged she learned to control her power. Her father and his companions made sure she wasn't let out to the world before she was stable.