ClockworkEclipse » Hibernal Den » Lahash

Lahash

(#76208056)

Haloed Sage Mucous

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

7.36 m

Wingspan

7.69 m

Weight

613.52 kg

Genetics

Hatchday

Mar 02, 2022
(2 years)

Breed

Adult
Aberration

Eye Type

Plague
Multi-Gaze

Level 1 Aberration

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

none

Biography

Lahash
born Wyrm and Woud
The Pestilent Ophanim of the Garden

A Tale of Mischief Managed

I sigh as the two hatchlings bumble about, shifting my shaggy head from side to side in disappointment. The sisters had been fighting for some time now, but here we are, sitting in a place I'd never imagine myself settling in. I was made by the Icewarden, or at least this body was, to withstand the harshest blizzards. It wasn't suited for the humid wasteland left in the wake of the Plaguebringer's battle with her sister. I still wonder why I even wished to be a Gaoler if the first thing that I'd be sent out to do is babysit a pair of mischievous children left behind in the fleshlike ground by the Wyrmwound.

A high pitched screech causes me to lift my head, my eyes narrowing as the little ones tackle each other into one of the many pockmarks one of his fellow Gaolers dug out. I hear a startled huff, then watch as a cream-colored head lifts the two creatures out of the den. Most Gaolers don't take on possessions, but this one broke the mold. Unfortunately for him, it seems the two trailed some of the mucous residue of their last stomping ground into his temporary abode. Which, somewhat amusingly, meant his glasses now needed to be cleaned. I may not say anything, but I can see that slight pout as he catches my small smile.

Then the seemingly cowed hatchlings broke the silence by snatching the spectacles off the Gaoler's head.

As the two dart off, likely to hide the prized ocular device in a pit of green goop, I can only find myself chuckling at my distraught companion. Neither of us wanted to be out here, really, and I can't help but find some amusement in our shared discomfort. I watch as he settles in his own hollow, his eyes squinting after the two hatchlings darting into what appears to be a tooth sprouting from the ground. Finally he turns to me, tilting his head.

"Are you going to follow them, Michael? They're little troublemakers, and I can't quite see the dears at the moment."

I look out at the tooth, where the two strange dragons have managed to climb onto the blunted end to snap at each other. I can see one wearing the glasses, oversized as they were on his little face, and shake my head to the other Gaoler. The offended screech from the other hatchling made my decision for me.

"Why follow them? We can run to them if they're hurt, and I'm sure we can hear them for spans." I wince when I hear both of the hatchlings start squawking at each other over the spectacles. I can only imagine how upset they must be over only having one pair. "Besides, we need to get you cleaned up, Aziraphale. That goop already wiped out Castiel, and we don't have anyone who knows how to handle the diseases here."

The other Gaoler, Aziraphale, cringes at that, using a paw to swipe at his muzzle. Yep, they needed to clean this off. As we stand, I can practically see my companion die inside as his fur clumps together. Finding a clean water source out here will be a nightmare, if it's even possible at all. As we climb over one of the many mounds in the Scarred Waste, keeping our eyes peeled for a fresh water source, I can't help but wonder what's worse. Trying to keep up with Aziraphale's standards in a land filled with disease, or watching the two little gremlins.

One last squawk from behind me reminds me how tolerable Aziraphale really is. Collectables or not, anything was better than watching the two hatchlings that already wiped out three Seeker parties with a sneeze.

I sigh as I curl up in my pock, my green eyes locked on the Wyrmwound. It had been quiet for some time now, quiet and dull, but it's nice to get some rest for once. My companion normally wouldn't agree, but he's asleep now. I don't know how long it will last, but a part of me hopes it'll be a while. It isn't often that I get to just watch things go by.

I lift my head when I hear chattering near the Wyrmwound. Not many dragons are willing to go so close, not with the Plague Mother sitting right there. I still remember how the Gladekeeper had laughed as her sister pushed an entire breed of dragon into the Wyrmwound. Or, well, all she could find there, which were a lot. How was she supposed to know she'd made them a bit too well? How could she see them thriving with new bodies through her tears? How could she have possibly predicted any dragon dipping into the Wyrmwound afterward would risk sharing their fate as a multi-headed beast?

I don't even notice I've begun crying until a talon wipes a tear from my cheek. It bears my pattern, my colors, my every scar, yet it is not mine. I turn my head, only to see he is awake. I sigh at the grin on his face, my eyes narrowing to meet his three. I'd hoped that maybe, just maybe, I could steal some sleep of my own, but that look can only mean one thing.

"Please tell me you aren't going to cause trouble, Loki."

As I listen to the sound of laughter drawing closer to our pock, I feel our body rise up, wings stretching as best they can as Loki lets out an exaggerated yawn. I know he's just delaying the inevitable at this rate, especially since he'd managed to steal control of our legs and wings while I was distracted. Finally he speaks up, his eyes alight with the notion of nothing but trouble.

"Oh my sweet lady Kalo, I couldn't possibly know what you mean. After all, you're the part of us that keeps us grounded, right?"

Finally, I see them. Two young Banescales, bickering over a pair of spectacles and who looks best in them. A part of me wants to warn them, because surely we can't just leave them as they are out here. However, I take pause when I see their eyes. Plague born. They're Plague born Banescales. If anyone would be alright chattering away here, it'd be them. I sigh as Loki pats my head, almost like I'm a pouting hatchling.

"Right then. Let's visit with these little songbirds and see what they're all about. I bet someone's looking for them."

Art Goes Here
Art Credits Go Here

Hatched Triple Basic Tundra with Uncommon Eyes

Wyrm before the swim

Woud before the swim

Orb: 05/05/2022
Weaver: 05/05/2022
Mucous: 05/05/2022
Multigaze: 03/02/2022
Level 25: ??/??/????

Hatchery Button/Relative Buttons Go Here
Accompanying Text Goes Here

Orb: ??/??/????
Weaver: ??/??/????
Mucous: ??/??/????
Multigaze: 03/02/2022
Level 25: ??/??/????

Haloed Sage Mucous Variant

Started Triple Basic Tundra with Uncommon Eyes

Lore Ideas:

Started life separate as Wormwood (specifically Wyrm and Wood, two friends among the older scholars)
Got scooped into the Wyrmwound by the Plaguebringer and merged for causing too much trouble
Trouble in this case 100% means they never stopped chattering and stealing the forbidden soup
Happily acted as harbingers of pestilence as hatchlings, not so happy as adults
Constantly bicker with each other and take control of limbs to deliver said pestilence to each other
Constantly frustrated that their disease-based attacks don't really work on themselves
Left is Wyrm, right is Wood
Were found by remaining Necromancers of the Wanderers (and promptly terrified them)
The floating eyes definitely didn't help
The fact Wyrm liked trying to bat the eyes into anything dangerous also didn't help
Eventually got shipped off to Hochmael with a letter essentially saying they were his problem now
He still struggles to help them get along
He thought giving them a new name would help, but now they fight over who gets the shiny new name
Finally found a way to help them stand in as great Ophanim: Find a common enemy
Turns out that common enemy is literally anyone who tries to use their infighting to their advantage
In the wise words of Wyrm, "We hate each other, but we don't have goop for brains."
"Well, maybe Wood does, but I sure don't!"
Only ever work together to fight each other later if someone annoys them enough
Students find it amusing to watch them bicker at the gate
Barghests have no idea what to make of them aside from the fact they can and will bite back (and ofc the Barghest curse doesn't pass on to them)

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