Judas
(#77070307)
Her Light shines divine even in wretched darkness
Daragan
Blackline Bicorn Whale
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Coatl
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.32 m
Wingspan
10.19 m
Weight
1014.17 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Metallic
Metallic
Gold
Bee
Bee
Gold
Veined
Veined
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Coatl
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
7
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
5
MND
6
Biography
Judas
Priest / Mage
Theme: The Bird and the Worm by The Used
Lore Written by @TETRAHEDR0N
Priest / Mage
Theme: The Bird and the Worm by The Used
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Relation: Leader  Relation: Friend  Favored Treasure: 
Favored Apparel:
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Notes~
Lore~ Judas set down his pack with a heavy thump and wearied groan, which eased into a sigh as he sat down on his nest, letting his sore body finally, finally rest after a long day. “What a day,” he mumbled, reaching under his veil to massage his temples. His eyes slipped shut and he allowed himself a few seconds of blissful silence and dark—say what one would about the Twisted Reach, it offered quite the tempting opportunities for simple respite. “Don’t get used to it,” he whispered to himself, blearily opening his eyes. He could hardly be expected to stay down here in the dark with these . . . worms forever. No, not forever. The coatl flipped back his veil, running claws through sweaty feathers as he looked about his plain dwelling. A small cave deep within the Reach—well-protected from the Acolytes, Judas reflected with a snort—that looked much the same as any other, since, besides his old priest gear, he’d barely decorated with his own personal effects. Dark, bleak stone, with gray-violet vines webbing the cracks in the rock and lines of mushrooms growing along ridges in the walls. He disdained using those, disliked their pale, cloudy glows that barely illuminated a thing. It was nothing like the broad, open plains of the Sunbeam Ruins, where each morning’s sunrise blasted the landscape in a dazzling display of true warmth and light. Judas smiled faintly, picturing the scene fondly—and with no small amount of longing. Yes. He definitely would not stay in the Wood forever. One day he’d go home. A sudden bloom of vibrant, yellow light burst in view just out of the corner of Judas’ eye, and he whirled, leaping to his feet. In the jumble of his few possessions, buried beneath a set of ceremonial robes too ornate for daily use, the seer-orb pulsed in warning of an approaching call. Judas’ heart skipped a beat, and he swallowed, shoving down the immediate jolt of fear. Moving quickly, he poked his head out his den, scanning the corridor for any clanmates, then hurriedly threw a heavy curtain up across the entrance, blocking any light from the orb from escaping. The seer-orb throbbed faster, brighter. Judas took a deep breath to calm himself, straightening his robes and settling his veil before reaching over and freeing the orb from the folded fabrics, hefting it up in the air just in time for— The orb jerked free from his claws and shot up into the air, hovering a foot above his head as it began to spin with a high-pitched whine. Judas backed up a step, unable to hold back a wince as the light grew brighter, brighter. He lifted his claws to his eyes at the peak of the seer-orb’s brilliance, eyes slitted even beneath the veil, and was just barely able to see through forced tears as the orb contorted its shape, stretching and twisting as it was molded into the form of fae dragon hovering in the air with its wings outstretched. The grip on Judas’ heart lessened slightly, letting him dip his head, though he did not bow to the other priest. “Socrates,” he greeted, as coolly as he could, as though this were expected. “Why the visit?” The seer-orb was supposed to be for emergencies only, if Judas had no other way to get word to the Acolytes, and indeed, he’d never used it, never seen it be used. The false-image of Socrates was pure, shining gold, not black like the actual dragon’s scales, and it showed his attire and motions, but none of his surroundings. The fae’s crest waved in an unfamiliar pattern, though, if he knew Socrates, Judas guessed was showing contempt or scorn. “Lux asked me to send to you,” the seeming said, examining his claws as if obeying an order of the priest-divine was merely a favor. He looked up, glowing yellow eyes utterly cold. “He was wondering if you were planning to report on your most recent . . . encounter with our fighters.” Judas inhaled sharply, forcing himself not to move, not to react. But there was nothing to hide, nothing he had done wrong. “Of course. I have just returned to the Reach’s caves, about to write my final report for the quartermoon and secure it in the usual place—” Socrates was shaking his head as Judas spoke, and finally snapped his jaws. Judas fell quiet. His golden image, though fixed in one point, seemed to grow larger, to loom over Judas as the fae leaned in, his teeth showing. “No. Lux himself was at today’s fight—you know that. You were there too, weren’t you? You saw what happened—you made it happen.” Judas’ throat was too dry to speak. “Tell me—explain to our glorious leader, He Who Communes In Sunlight—just why you thought it expedient to use our Lady’s blessed magic in the act of healing our most wretched foe.” Socrates—Lux—was waiting. Judas forced saliva down his throat, and lifted his head. “The Reach is a treacherous, suspicious clan—its leader even more so. We knew it would take considerable time and effort to persuade them to permit me entrance. Even after a moon of infiltration, Vesper continued to watch me, forcing me to be slow and cautious in my gathering of intel, stingy when I can pass it along—all to the detriment of our mission. To win his trust, Socrates, to speed up the process of assimilation, no more.” He flicked his tail, derisive and careless. “A mere trick.” Socrates’ seeming betrayed no emotion. “And the results of this endeavor? Beyond allowing the Reach’s forces time to regroup and retreat before we could land the finishing blow, of course.” “Vesper himself thanked me,” Judas said, holding his voice steady, his expression blank, heart unfeeling. “Respect showed in his eyes when he told me he was—glad, that I came to the Reach, despite . . . everything.” He blinked, coming back to himself. “I have been invited to dine with him and his closest advisors tonight, formally welcoming me into the clan.” Socrates sneered, “And you think it worth it.” Judas opened his mouth, but no words came out. All he could think was, No. But that wasn’t the right response at all. The fae snickered. “We shall see. Send your report as soon as possible. We will expect more knowledge in greater detail on the inner workings of the Reach, now that you’ve wriggled your way so intimately into Vesper’s loving embrace.” Judas scowled and made to retort, but the seeming shrunk and folded in on itself, compressing back down into a sphere no larger than a clenched forefoot. The seer-orb, no longer glowing, dropped to the floor with a dull clink, rolling a few feet away. Judas made no move to catch it, and it only registered after it fell that the glass might have shattered. He stood still in the center of his den—not his. Borrowed. Stolen. For what? Moving mechanically, feeling empty and very far away from himself, Judas fished the seer-orb out and buried it back in the bottom of his things. He would need a better hiding place, or thicker coverings for it, so that no dragon that came into his den found it if ever the Acolytes called again when he was out. A growl rumbled in his chest, and sourly, he tore the curtain from the entrance and threw it onto his nest. Why had Socrates, Lux, called? The pearlcatcher must be in an absolute fit after the skirmish, to have Vesper so close in his claws, only for the imperial to slip away again. Did he really doubt Judas that much so as to question him—after everything Judas had done, had personally risked to even be here as a spy? Selfish, obsessed, impulsive— Guilt twisted his heart. Lux had to be careful, even more so than Judas. He needed confidence from his Acolytes, when he bore such a great task—daunting, yet noble—as given him by the Lightweaver. Judas needed to be patient, faithful, diligent. He had to do his job, prove his usefulness and loyalty to the priest-divine and their Deity. Focused and calm again, Judas undressed and gave himself a thorough grooming, preening out all the dust and grit that had accumulated on his feathers and fur throughout the day. Vesper’s feast was in just a few hours. He needed to be ready, primed as the perfect, humble guest of honor, gracious and grateful, only a simple ex-priest glad to be of service to his new clan leader. An easy trick to play. |
Lore Written by @TETRAHEDR0N
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