Wakingwood
(#74982)
"Be we of the sickness, or be we of the wood?"
Familiar
Blight Nymph
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 44/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Male Aberration
This dragon is an ancient breed.
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Personal Style
Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.15 m
Wingspan
6.72 m
Weight
722.24 kg
Genetics
Brown
Ribbon (Aberration)
Ribbon (Aberration)
Emerald
Paisley (Aberration)
Paisley (Aberration)
Rust
Skeletal (Aberration)
Skeletal (Aberration)
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Aberration
EXP: 3570 / 5545
STR
16
AGI
6
DEF
15
QCK
15
INT
5
VIT
10
MND
15
Biography
“We can see the curiosity in thyne eyes, traveler” One set of the beasts eyes blinked slowly, “Be we of the sickness, or be we of the wood?” It hissed softly as it's head twisted to the side.
The second head weaved like a snake as it inspected you too closely for comfort.
“Ehh.. Both. Neither.” The voice of this second head was lower, huskier and came out like a low snarl.
“I hold this body now, I tell us what we think, whom we serve, and so ye find us here now at the heart of the Labrynth, loyal to she who birthed it.” The first head explained calmly.
There was a low growl from the second, a barely perceptible sound, “But we miss home...” It growled lowly. “We miss the Wyrmwound.”
The first head snapped towards the second, the sound of it's teeth loud and sharp, “No!” It barked, a stark contrast to how it sounded mere moments ago, “I stay here! This is home, I am Gladewalker and always shall I be! The contagion is not for us, we no longer serve she who carries the sickness, we are only for the green!”
The second head lowered, but it's eyes remained defiant as it stared at the first. “Nrrrg... Ye will not hold us always.” It muttered under it's breath but just loud enough for all to hear.
The second head weaved like a snake as it inspected you too closely for comfort.
“Ehh.. Both. Neither.” The voice of this second head was lower, huskier and came out like a low snarl.
“I hold this body now, I tell us what we think, whom we serve, and so ye find us here now at the heart of the Labrynth, loyal to she who birthed it.” The first head explained calmly.
There was a low growl from the second, a barely perceptible sound, “But we miss home...” It growled lowly. “We miss the Wyrmwound.”
The first head snapped towards the second, the sound of it's teeth loud and sharp, “No!” It barked, a stark contrast to how it sounded mere moments ago, “I stay here! This is home, I am Gladewalker and always shall I be! The contagion is not for us, we no longer serve she who carries the sickness, we are only for the green!”
The second head lowered, but it's eyes remained defiant as it stared at the first. “Nrrrg... Ye will not hold us always.” It muttered under it's breath but just loud enough for all to hear.
 WAKINGWOOD The Cleansed     Conflicted | Fragile | Unstable Breathe |
The ancient dragon huffed weakly, his breathing nothing more than short, ragged puffs of air. He could feel what little strength he had left waning, the disease would take him finally, but before his final breath left him, with some effort, he looked up to the great tree towering high above him, the thousands of branches obscuring any speck of the blue sky above. "Nrrrg... Foul thing, ye have doomed us... made us an abomination, now we belong nowhere." One head wheezed bitterly. Of course no answer came as he expected. In spite of what he'd been told countless times since he first pulled himself from the sludge of his home a twisted creature of both life and death, there were no answers to be found for his cursed duality here or in the Wyrmwound. The Aberration slumped down to the ground, here would be his final resting place, just at the base of the Behemoth, in a strange land far from home surrounded by the ghastly green life of his enemies. As his eyes drifted shut the decrepit old dragon dreamt of home, dreamt of being strong like his kin, of being welcomed rather than scorned as the agent of life he clearly looked. Bah, Glade-touched. Still just as wicked a curse to we as ever... Never were we meant to survive... Doomed, doomed. And that was his very last thought before he slipped into oblivion. No one was more surprised than he when he found his eyes cracking open once more. For a moment he wondered if this was the afterlife, but when the same land of shimmering green met all five of his eyes he knew it was not. He felt... different somehow. He took a breath, than another, there was no hitch and no pain, his chest expanded then sank in a strong and steady rhythm. Did we... survive...? He dared to allow himself a glimmer of hope that he was finally as strong as the rest of his kin. It was only then that he noticed a presence next to him and swiveled both heads to find the hulking figure of a guardian just next to him, calmly observing. Both of his heads simply stared at the dragon until he noticed her green eyes and then one thought in particular wickedly struck out among the rest. |
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One of his heads narrowed his eyes in disdain at the guardian, a clearly loyal nature flight dragon, and informed her coolly "Ye should keep thyne distance, young, foolish nature dragon, we carry the most virulent diseases of our flight." If his tone or information had any effect on her, it surely didn't show, "Oh, it's quite alright, ancient one, what you carry is no longer a danger to anyone else." She replied evenly. This gave the old plague dragon pause and both sets of eyes blinked slowly before one head finally asked dubiously, "What is the meaning of thyne words, foolish dragon?" "It seems you are Glade-touched like myself." He scowled bitterly at the term which seemed to be all the confirmation the guardian needed before continuing, "Many of us here are." She gestured to other dragons who were milling about the clearing that the older dragon only now noticed, "I can see now the struggle and conflict you must have carried within. Being Glade-touched has not been so clear a blessing for you as it is for us." She murmured in a soft, empathetic tone. "Urgh. No it most certainly has not." He spat angrily as he dug his claws into the earth beneath. The guardian nodded her head solemnly before going on, "Fear not, you came to the right place, here you can be helped. Bearing the blessing of life must have left you very weak to the diseases of your kind that you would have otherwise survived, but here we have instead used the Gladekeepers influence over you to help ease the sickness and nurture the touch of life within." She paused to let her words sink in, her gaze shifting to the clearing before them, "As it is, you'll always be trapped somewhere between both worlds, always pushed and pulled in different directions. You will struggle and your symptoms will never leave you, but you will carry on and you will survive." The guardian then stood, as if to leave, but the wizened old dragon had far too many questions. |
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"Wait! Ehh... Does this mean here we must stay, tied to this place of ghastly green?" "No, in these past two weeks we've done all we can for you and you may now go forth with the blessing of the Gladekeeper to help combat your symptoms and keep the sickness from spreading. it will not be undone no matter where you go. Though... you may not feel so free, being watched by one you undoubtedly must resent." Something sparked within the two-headed dragon, something deep inside he had pushed down and locked away some time ago and suddenly he found a part of himself... intrigued rather than disgusted. His second, much quieter head suddenly stared at the tree and muttered under his breath, "We... have found peace. We have found home." This caused his other head to recoil at the thought, "No... no, the natural world is not for we. No, only the contagion, yes, our birthplace is where we must return!" He hissed vehemently. And yet... what had driven him here in the first place? The thought stuck in his mind like a bur, clearly some part of him had wanted to seek answers in this jungle and that part of him seemed content with what he had found. His second, quieter head suddenly straightened, determination in his eyes, the decision was crystal clear, "We will stay. We will learn. We will follow the mother of green." And so he has remained, as much an honored and revered member of the Gladewalkers as the rest of the Sages, despite his origins, and now bears the title 'The Cleansed'. He remains close to the guardian and her circle of Sages and uses his vast knowledge and natural talents to care for any life, plant or dragon, struck with plague, disease or sickness, all the while pushing back the growing feeling of discontent that lurks somewhere deep in his heart. I will not forget. I will wait, and when it is finally my time again we will return to our true home. |
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