Grimoire
(#72513845)
Level 1 Nocturne
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 49/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Female Nocturne
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.94 m
Wingspan
4.71 m
Weight
585.27 kg
Genetics
Soil
Savannah
Savannah
Gold
Patchwork
Patchwork
Tan
Ghost
Ghost
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Nocturne
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
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N A M E
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Insert a quote or something here.
Gender: Female Occupation: Scarecrow Playlist: xxx There is life in everything. There is life in the air, life in the dirt, even the plants. Thus why it was not a surprise when the scarecrow started to move. After all, when your sewn together by a hermit witch you have to add a little spice. But being tied up to that post for days was something she did not miss. The way the crows mocked her, the way the rain made her straw feel heavy. A personal hell. But it was kind of funny when the Witch came back, no doubt to check the rope tied around the 'scarecrow', and gave a fearful screech as she blinked at her and said a small 'Hello?'. |
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S T O R Y
Love isn't something a Hermit witch is good at. If anything, she grew up as the residential field guard dog. Just sort of there, always watching, waiting, sometimes shooing away the crows or other critters. Sometimes the Witch would throw a grumbled hello if they were feeling especially chatty that day, other times she was left without a word for weeks on end. A year had passed, the garden harvested and ready for the new batch of crops.
"I think I want to expand it this year....I think you will need some help as well. You can't do it all." The Witch mumbled, surveying their land. The scarecrow blinked, head tilted in confusion. "Help? Who will help me stand watch?" The witch motioned for the scarecrow to follow, and follow she did. They ended up at a shed on the back end of the property, its wood old and rotten. The Witch pushed aside the wood and opened it, the scarecrow's eyes widened. Cloth, burlap, and all sorts of fabric laid within. A moldy pile of hay lay in the corner, sparse memories flashed through the scarecrows head. "I will teach you how to make others like you. You will be there Mother." The scarecrow shuffled inside, poking at the burlap and cloth. Others? Like her? "I won't be lonely anymore?" The scarecrow asked in wonder, feeling something but not quit sure what it was. The Witch nodded, pulling a book out from beneath the fabrics. On it's cover pretty scribbles were etched. "This is my Grimoire. You shall learn from it." And learn the scarecrow did. The Witch, while not the most kind, was exceptionally lazy and did not wish to be bothered in creating more scarecrows or tending to the expanding field. Instead she showed the Scarecrow how to do it, even taught it abit of reading and writing to help the process. What the Witch didn't know was when Scarecrow would sneak into the shed at night, gently caressing the book and fabrics. One day she would make others like her, one day she would not be lonely. Winter was coming to a close, Spring was almost upon them when the local villagers seemed to finally wise up. Scarecrow was in the fields when the sight of smoke started to rise from the other side. Eyes wide she ran as fast as she could, only to stop at the edge of the field and stare as the Witch's home was engulfed in flames. The villagers were long gone, having no use for 'unholy ground'. Scarecrow felt something break inside of her, she did not know what it was, but she never wanted to feel it again. Escaping the fields with the Grimoire, she set off to find somewhere new, somewhere safe. She would not make others like her and have them consumed by the flames like the Witch. Eventually she found a canyon that was ruled by scary beasts, but they did not bother her as she was made of burlap and straw, not meat. Finding a patch of earth not ravaged by the Wastes and darkness, she made a small field. In this field there was corn as strong as reed stalks and plump pumpkins all year around, all sorts of edible goods grew in this garden even though the scarecrow herself could not eat. It gave her a sense of her old ways and a sole reminder of the Witch that gave her life. But trading the produce for burlap, fabrics, needles and threads did prove its worth in the end. Gathering the discarded parts such as the stalks, pumpkin leaves, and other stuff that was not edible she made another just like her. For 7 days and 7 nights she sewed, stuffed, and chanted. With the last stitch in place the scarecrow stilled, watching, waiting. Slowly the button eyes turned soft on the new scarecrow, its limbs started to bend and move, and finally it opened its mouth and said a faint 'Hello?'. The scarecrow, now named Grimoire after her beloved book, became the matriarch of her little cluster. She would create them, teach them, and let them go off to wander the world if they wished. Grimoire did not know what a 'Mother' was, but she was happy to be the one tending to her little cluster of scarecrows as one would tend to a field. But when that feeling would raise its ugly head again as it did when she saw the witch's home burn when one of her 'little cornstalks' would go off into the world, she just made another. Pick out the burlap, make the body. Pick out the fabrics, make the wings and clothing. Pick out the eyes and sew them in as she recited the ancient incantation to bring them to life. Repeat, repeat, repeat. This was how it was, this was how it would always be. For a scarecrow does not age, a scarecrow does not eat or sleep. A scarecrow sits and watches, protects the fields and serves it's purpose as the world around them keeps turning. Now a days you can find Grimoire dividing her time between her stall at Fright Fest and creating her little brood. She has no remorse selling her rag doll children to the happy dragon children and their dotting parents. If anything she is happy they can go to good homes and provide companionship for the young ones. Most of her brood, if she ever sees them again, talk happily about their children, how they learned so much about the world and got to see a lot. Of course not all come back with good stories but Grimoire offers them a choice. They can either keep going on in the world, or be given another choice. Be dismantled and turned once again into ‘brood’, given a new body, and sold to another family to try again. They would have no memories of their previous life or lives, the magic would see to that. Some call her cruel, maybe even evil, but this does not bother a being made of straw, burlap, and magic. 
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code by 84463
by Tokagine
Return to CrowDazzle
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Exalting Grimoire to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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