Unnamed
(#70471773)
Level 1 Imperial
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
29.32 m
Wingspan
17.89 m
Weight
5827.75 kg
Genetics
Midnight
Iridescent
Iridescent
Shadow
Shimmer
Shimmer
Midnight
Smoke
Smoke
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
~ Event Staff Commemoration Gift ~
Event lore written by nbdy:
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Intro
A bespectacled pearlcatcher sits at a desk outside a dusty stone doorway. Inside, stairs lead deeper into the building. The doorway is blocked off with a makeshift barrier. The pearlcatcher shuffles through a pile of papers before they notice you. “Another statement?” They set aside the papers covered in tiny, dense writing. “You’ve noticed it too, then? Ever since that hidden chamber opened up, things have been getting stranger and stranger. Everyone is on edge. Anything you can tell us will help.” They look you in the eye. “Please.” They add, like an afterthought. “Come with me.” Down the dimly lit stairs is a crumbling wall. Beyond, the light of your lantern reveals a metal plaque that reads: “Property of Jurgen Lightner”. The pearlcatcher explains what they know of Lightner. “He gathered these tomes and documents from the ruins of the Hewn City, from what we can tell. But they’re… strange. Unreadable, and not in the quality sense.” As you two walk through the shelves, an oppressive feeling creeps up your spine. “The more superstitious scholars think they’re cursed. But they’re fascinating, aren’t they?” The pearlcatcher stares at the rows of spines, entranced. “Fascinating. Ahem.” They shake free of whatever came over them. “What we need from you is a record of whatever strange happenings you come across or hear of. Anything at all that might help disprove -- or, er, prove -- the rumours that this collection is supernatural. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” When you leave, they seem relieved to be back in the sunlight. |
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Day 1: The Buried
A creeping fear has been stalking the construction workers in the basements. Walls close in on them; the Light is far out of reach no matter how far they run towards it; rubble crumbles around them, trapping them beneath the earth. Workers burst from the cellars out of breath and exhausted, terrified until they see the sky above them. The pearlcatcher archivist looks pleased to see you, even as a tundra in construction gear rushes out of the stairwell behind them. “You’re here! I’m glad to see you’re eager to get started. Something is frightening the workers inside the building, particularly underground. They claim sudden claustrophobia, shortness of breath, and unbearable pressure. “I’m sure there are many things you could do to find the root of this mess. Explore the basements of the library, interview the workers -- perhaps convince some to go back to work -- and search for some books that have, ahem, gone missing from the Lightner collection. Something which has many of the scholars on edge. Can’t imagine why.” They turn back to their reports, muttering to themselves. Bonus Content: One of the workers, the tundra who sprinted past you, has noticed something strange. Other than the whole walls-closing-in-on-people, anyway. She pulls you aside when you finish speaking with the archivist. Her chest fluff smells singed. “Things are bursting into flames left, right, and centre. Even after we put it out, it’s still burning hot. We can’t get close, even those from the Fire Flight! We’re losing good materials. Something has to be done about it. I know, you’ve got your ‘official instructions’ from our most honourable archivist, but this could get bad. Really bad.” |
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Day 2: The Corruption
Today, the archivist looks disgusted, though they school their face into a pleasant smile when they spot you. They step pointedly on a stream of ants marching into the building, and shudder when the rest of the ants change course to walk over their foot, shaking it off and stepping away. “There are bugs. Everywhere. Not even the other insectivores will eat these things, they say they taste sick. I, for one, am not going to try them. My lunch spoiled before my eyes when I opened it. None of the consultants from Plague know what’s going on with this. The walls around the library aren’t closing around people anymore, but now they’re oily. Oily! It’s so gross! I touched one by accident and had to bathe three times to get the feeling off!” They give their wings a shake, as if to brush the memory off. “We’ve been keeping anyone injured away from whatever it is, in case whatever’s causing it is contagious. It’s like being in the Scarred Wasteland, but it shouldn’t be here in the Sunbeam Ruins, much less in the great library.” Bonus Content: The tundra you spoke to yesterday is standing a distance away, and rolls her eyes. The pearlcatcher’s voice carried all the way over to her. When you approach, she flashes you a smile. “I don’t know what they’re talking about. The bugs have left me alone entirely. What they forgot to mention is, you know the spots that caught fire? None of this stuff is getting anywhere near them. I say we find whatever’s still hot and use it to clear out whatever this is, or try, at least. No one else agrees with me, but I think it could work.” There’s something distant in her eyes. Standing beside her, she’s warmer than you’d expect, even from a tundra in the sun. You catch the faint scent of burning hair. |
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Day 3: The Flesh
The archivist is relieved today, but they’re still wearing gloves and boots and scrutinizing where they step. “Thank the Eleven that mess is cleaned up. It took all night.” They check their paperwork for insects, then flip through it. “I keep thinking -- what if those things were some sort of disease, and what if it would make me -- I don’t know. Mutate. Grow another arm. Some of the other scholars are reporting similar thoughts, though never outright. Just in whispers around the break spots and such. They’ve been having nightmares about their muscles and flesh twisting into new shapes, or their skin splitting apart like --” they shudder, “-- like overripe fruit. I’m starting to think something really is wrong, if this isn’t some sort of mass delusion.” They fall quiet for a moment. “I’m glad I don’t eat meat. Carnivores seem to be getting the worst nightmares.” Bonus Content: A librarian is here today, arguing with the tundra worker. When you get close enough to hear them speaking, which isn’t very far, considering how angry the larger guardian is, you can see the tundra merely looks irritated. “This is a library! You can’t set fires anywhere near it!” “It got rid of that insect problem, right?” “And took most of the day to get the fires put out before they spread to anything valuable! We could have lost so much knowledge, so much history.” “You’re just cranky because you dreamed you were just meat.” The guardian snarls. “Get out. You’re fired.” The tundra huffs, and stalks off. The guardian finally notices you and sighs. “Sorry you had to see that. Library staff business. Please, carry on.” |
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Day 4: The Desolation
The next day brings more shouting -- the Guardian librarian and the Tundra construction worker, but the Pearlcatcher archivist has also joined in. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” The tundra yells. “The fire is necessary, the fire -- the… fire…?” There are flames coming from the stairwell, but as you and the trio watch, they dissipate to nothingness. The archivist and librarian rush down the stairs past the tundra, who stands, stunned into silence. Down the stairs, the Lightner collection is unscathed, to everyone’s relief. Workers are hurrying to extinguish small embers left in the corners. “How…?” Breathes the librarian. The archivist seems to share his amazement. Something stopped the blaze before it consumed the entire basement, and the workers inside. But what? |
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Day 5: The Hunt
The archivist looks exhausted today. They brighten when they see you. “Are you well? I spent most of yesterday checking the books for damage. Thankfully they’re unharmed.” They sigh. “We didn’t manage to catch the tundra who set the fires -- if she even did. With all the strange things that have been happening this week, I’m beginning to have my doubts. Anyway. We’re back to business as usual, as far as that can get. “Us dragons don’t seem to be as affected by this newest development, but familiars and prey are running panicked. Even familiars who have been bonded with their dragons for years and should know well they have nothing to fear. It’s causing chaos outside the library, and those working inside are too worried about their familiars to focus. Some are even leaving to chase those fleeing. Same drill as the other days, please find out whatever you can about what’s going on.” Bonus Content: In the library itself, the guardian you met the other day is reorganizing books. “Everything’s a mess… What are they doing?! Rearranging these in patterns on the floors and going on about doors that shouldn’t be there. I swear, if they found another ‘secret’ collection...” He notices you, and pauses. “Good afternoon. I hope helping with the repairs hasn’t been too much of a burden. Especially with how erratic so many people have been. Disappearing doors, hah!” |
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Day 6: The Slaughter
The archivist has their ears covered today, and takes a moment to notice you. “Can you stop that music?” they say, louder than they probably intended. “It’s driving me mad.” Behind them, you see a smaller dragon dart away from a wildclaw’s kick. Those with better control of their faculties separate pairs close to bursting into violence, while weaker dragons and familiars peer from around their hiding places, praying they will be overlooked and unharmed. A sort of droning song thrums through the air and earth. Even the archivist looks angry. “This is madness, the entire week! Just -- stop that! You! Unhand those!” They hurry off to deal with someone trying to shred their papers. Bonus Content: The librarian is behind a barricade of empty shelves. “Stay away from my books! Don’t you dare touch them!” You try to speak to him, but he doesn’t seem to hear your words. “I see you,” he shouts. “I won’t let you destroy any of these!” There is no one in the direction he’s yelling in, and one of his makeshift barricades is against an empty wall -- though when you unfocus your eyes, you can faintly make out a doorway. Just a trick of your imagination. |
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Day 7: The End
Workers are busily cleaning up after yesterday’s frenzy. The librarian is leading the efforts to fix his bookshelf fort, looking somewhat sheepish. The archivist looks exhausted. “Hello.” It takes them a moment to notice you standing before them. “Nightmares, again. More than just the carnivores this time.” They rub their face with one hand. “It’s difficult to describe. Everyone is scared of getting seriously hurt, despite all our precautions to keep the renovation areas safe. Some dream of lost loved ones, or dying themselves. It’s causing quite a bit of grief. No one has been hurt yet, no more than any other day, but it’s worrying people.” They sigh. “Thank you for anything you can do to help.” Bonus Content: When you approach the librarian, it’s clear he’s frazzled. “They keep putting the shelves in spirals, and telling me I’m the one who told them to. I’ve never said such a thing. It’s ridiculous to have a spiral library.” He pauses to correct a worker placing a desk at an odd angle. “Sorry. This is demanding all my attention. Can you return later?” You can. He works until nightfall. |
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Day 8: The Lonely
There’s no one here to greet you today. No archivist, no frazzled librarian, no workers on their way to their assignments. It’s foggy, a rarity in a place with the sun so strong. As you walk deeper into the library, hoping to find someone, your steps echo off the stone walls. No one answers any calls, the chill inside the building stealing your words. The path leads all the way to the other side of the library, where you finally see a pearlcatcher. The archivist. They turn to face you when you enter, fear and relief on their face in equal measure. “You’re here.” Bonus Content: A doorway stands alone behind the archivist. They stare -- not at you, but through you. “He’s in there,” they whisper. It sounds like their voice will crack if they speak any louder. “He just followed someone in there. He didn’t say anything.” The door is shut. |
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Day 9: The Spiral
The door drifts open painfully slowly, so much so that the archivist doesn’t notice until they see your expression. They turn so fast they almost unbalance. Through the door is an impossible tunnel. Every blink makes it rearrange into new fractals and shapes as your mind struggles to make sense of it. The archivist runs to the door, and may have run straight in, if they weren’t frozen to the spot when a guardian comes into view. It’s the librarian. ...Right? He is reflected in every angle as he makes his way along the tunnel towards you and the archivist. Some of the reflections aren’t possible -- facing straight towards him as he passes beside them, opening their mouths to speak. He looks haunted, fear etched in his features, until he finally makes it to the doorway. The archivist quickly supports him as he gains his balance. The door slams behind them. He stays silent while the archivist peppers him with questions, breathing heavily, until he finally finds his voice again. “Thank you.” He’s not talking to the archivist. |
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Day 10: The Stranger
The first person you come across is a worker you don’t recognize. When they turn to face you, there’s nothing but an empty stretch of stitched-on hide. You shudder, and when you open your eyes, the worker is the same as any other dragon, looking at you in concern. The archivist stares you in the face for a long moment, sorting your features in their head. “It’s you, right?” Behind them, workers remove what looks like -- is that taxidermy? -- unmoving familiars from the tunnels. The archivist follows your gaze. “They’ve been showing up in corners and empty halls. Taxidermy, wax sculptures, mannequins. It’s honestly getting very eerie. Haven’t we had enough scares? The head librarian -- you’ve met him, that guardian? -- is on stress leave, and he hardly ever misses a day of work.” Bonus Content: There’s someone you don’t recognize here, today. A regular stranger, unusually enough. A male pearlcatcher. You think. He seems as if he’s not entirely there, only solidifying in the presence of the archivist. His gaze is piercing. The archivist looks over their shoulder when you stare at him, but seems puzzled when they don’t see anything. The pearlcatcher walks away when the archivist’s attention returns to you. |
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Day 11: The Dark
A dark cloud hangs over everyone today, though the sun is as bright as ever. It’s even worse inside the building or underground. The lamps don’t seem as bright as they used to, and just about everyone glances around warily in the corners that the light can’t reach. The archivist refuses to go inside entirely. “I’ve had enough of all of this. Something is going on, I can feel it. I can see it.” They shuffle a few steps to one side, closer into the welcoming warmth of a sunbeam, though even that seems oddly muted. “Unnatural.” They nearly spit the word out. “The rest of these phenomena have only lasted one day. I don’t know why. But I’m going to find out what’s causing them.” Their eyes fix on you with a startling intensity. “You’ll keep helping me, won’t you?” Bonus Content: The ghostly pearlcatcher steps out of the shadowed stairwell. Are those eyes along his throat, or just light glinting off his hide? He beckons you closer, and closer still -- You reach the stairs, and he is gone, swallowed into the darkness beneath. |
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Day 12: The Vast
Unlike yesterday, the archivist has dragged their desk near the building. Supply runners who would ordinarily be flying to and fro are walking, glancing up at the broad expanse of sky above. The archivist beckons you to the shelter of the building. “It’s in the sky.” they hiss. “It’s so empty. Look.” You look. There are no clouds drifting across, just clear blue. But as you look, a sense of vertigo starts to settle in your bones, and an unsettling combination of fear and yearning with it. You want to fly up there, like you have any other day, feeling the air under your wings and the sky around you, but there’s a deep fear underneath it, like if you did, you would not return to the ground. At all. A sensation of falling upwards jolts you out of your trance, and the archivist gently tugs you into the stairwell door beside where they’ve set up their desk. “Are you alright?” they ask. “Don’t look. Just don’t look.” Bonus Content: The pearlcatcher stands out in the open, uncaring of the skittish dragons around him. In the light, you can see that he resembles the archivist: not in appearance or mannerisms, but in the way his eyes pierce through you. It’s as if he can see through you to all the statements you’ve gathered, all the events you’ve witnessed. Then he’s gone, and the archivist stares at the spot he’d been standing. They startle when you turn back to them. “Just -- a trick of the light.” They sound like it was more for their benefit than yours. |
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Day 13: The Web
The archivist seems even more unsettled when you arrive today. “The renovations are almost complete, but -- something’s watching us. It’s controlling us. I -- I couldn’t move my body, when I arrived this morning. I kept going over my notes but it wasn’t my decision to. I only broke out of it when I saw him.” Him? The archivist doesn’t answer you. “Not to mention the spiders everywhere. It’s as bad as that infestation last week. We’ve had to tear through and even burn webbing trapping workers inside.” They brush a spider you hadn’t noticed off of their desk. “This is not for your eyes.” They hiss. Are they…talking to the spider? Bonus Content: You finally corner the archivist to ask about who he saw that morning. They seem uncomfortable, and stare past you nervously. “Another pearlcatcher. A male. With eyes where eyes shouldn’t be. He doesn’t seem hostile, but something is definitely wrong. If it were an imperial it would at least be comparable to a -- some kind of emperor ghost. I know ghosts don’t exist. But. There’s something here with us. I know it.” They stride back to their desk when you step out of their way. The wraith watches them go. |
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Day 14: The Eye
The archivist’s notes are strewn everywhere, weighted down with rocks and whatever other objects they could find. They’ve marked passages here and there. The archivist themself is scratching notes on a long scroll, glancing between papers. “I can see it.” They mutter. “All of it, this entire time. It was faint at first, but now -- they’re watching us. They have been the whole time. I won’t let them play with us like toys. I’ll watch them back. I’ll keep us safe. The Lightners. Strange things. It all traces back to them.” They jerk up and stare at you, into you. “I’ll know. I won’t rest until I do.” Bonus Content: Behind the archivist and their wild, piercing gaze, stands the ghostly pearlcatcher. He meets your eyes, and nods. Then he disappears into a mass of Shade-touched smoke. Elsewhere, in the recovered nests of tainted shadeborn eggs, smoke wreathes a single one, and sinks into it. It will wait, and it will watch, for the next archivist. |
@Saronai wrote:
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Inky spectres, barely visible and entirely unnoticed slipped out of their prison the day the Great Library crumbled into ruins on one side. These wisps of The Shade, trapped together no longer, gathered from fragments in tainted tomes and artifacts. All of them strange, many dangerous, secreted into a warded archive by one Jurgen Lightner. Warded no longer. Many appear to originate from The Ghostlight Ruins, others...well, no flight’s territory remains completely untouched by The Shade, does it? Those who built their nests far too close to that secret archive paid the ultimate price, though no one found a trace of them in the aftermath. Only their eggs remained, infected by the fear-drenched fragments of shade, some more than others, perhaps. Either way, this invasive presence transformed all of them to their very core, resulting in one of the Shadeborn. While these unlucky hatchlings are not contagious like those with a more shallow infection, they must feed it magic, and eventually their descent into madness is nearly assured. At that point, no matter how steadfast they were as guardians against The Shade, they may end up as agents spreading its fear and terror. |
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