Seva
(#75236045)
Level 1 Mirror
Familiar
Crowned Bonepriest
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Mirror
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.12 m
Wingspan
8.56 m
Weight
680.07 kg
Genetics
Latte
Iridescent
Iridescent
Blood
Fissure
Fissure
Blood
Smirch
Smirch
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Mirror
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
8
DEF
6
QCK
8
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
Biography
"LOREM IPSUM DOLOR SIT AMET."
WORK IN PROGRESS
The Scarred Wasteland is a vast, shifting beast, a lifeform in of itself.
Strangers to this strange land are not keen to this design, the ideals that the Plaguebringer has spread through every scar in the Contagion, every pustule in the Wyrmwound.
Those who come to conquer are themselves subjugated.
To thrive in the Shattered Plain, you must be immutable, like stone. To live in the Leviathan Trench, you must be unyielding, like a cirriped.
To survive in the Abiding Boneyard, you must be fleeting, as thoughtless and primal as the cells that divide within rot. You must shed yourself, cut away what makes you whole, and move as plankton within a great tide.
In the Boneyard, you are nothing.
The teachings of Nightrun's ancestors repeat themselves over and over in her mind as she lay prone beneath the desert sun, the shredded, stinking remains of her lower legs pulling apart further and further as the hours pass, each pound of flesh finding itself a new home in the bellies of scavenging crows.
This fourth day will be her last; she is running out of blood to give, and her weakness has finally brought about the vultures. Their patient vigil portends her fate, and she watches them deliberate through her frontmost eyes. Hypovolemia has rendered their heat signatures indiscernible, bodies that once had a clear beginning and end now reduced to hazy, melting figures that join and fall apart at the seams when she tries to focus on them.
This is not the end she imagined for herself, but it is the only one she deserves.
♦♦♦
The sky turns dark once more, the fourth night. Is she to be so unlucky?
The monster that twisted her legs apart has not returned for her, and once again the Corpse Cleaners surface to examine the flesh. Putrid, blackened. Large vascular structures long since withered to sludge beneath the sun's heat.
They do not want it, not yet. Too fresh, she imagines. Her foolish attempts to heal her wounds had mended the simple venous structures, and the beating of her heart beneath sloudged scales repulses the creatures.
Her dogmatic upbringing returns to her, here.
No-one has come back for her. No-one has missed her.
She'd watched her siblings weave past the twisting mass of the beast, the muscles of their dehydrated bodies rippling as they commanded the deft movement of their wings.
They'd all slipped past, one by one by one. Over and under, dodging the stamping hooves and the sharp, flat teeth that snapped in an attempt to tear them from the skies.
It was a stupid mistake. One worthy of extinction.
The monster had reared its head back, and from its nostrils poured forth a terrible black smog. The ash had stuck to her haws, and she was rent blind, unable to see the flames that followed. Her packmates howled in fear as they fled, as her body burned.
She does not know when it grew bored with driving its hooves into her bones.
♦♦♦
WIP
This is no Mirror, she sees this even through bloodless eyes.
"Your soul is too large for your killing form," she sneers, "you stumble, infantile..."
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
Meat stocks are currently depleted.
Seafood stocks are currently depleted.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Seva 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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