Ithiel
(#78066028)
Has Lore
Familiar
Dismayed Devilwood
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Male Pearlcatcher
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.86 m
Wingspan
3.75 m
Weight
529.77 kg
Genetics
Midnight
Boulder
Boulder
Midnight
Myrid
Myrid
Midnight
Koi
Koi
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
Ithiel
Sentinel of the Shade
|
The cult of the Roving Eye was much like the Shade they served: insidious, deep-rooted, and difficult to eliminate. The Enlightened Saviors had spent decades hunting them, hoping to stamp them out once and for all. But the Roving Eye always seemed to be several steps ahead of them. More often than not, they fled ahead of these purges, and the Enlightened Saviors found only empty dens, useless equipment, and dead bodies—some of which were warped beyond recognition. This raid was no exception: The Saviors arrived only to find an abandoned lair and several wretched, half-alive experiments, who were quickly put out of their misery. They hesitated, however, when they found the eggs in the corner of a lab. If the eggs had indeed been Shade-touched, they would have to be destroyed immediately... But they looked, to all intents and purposes, like ordinary dragons’ eggs. The Enlightened Saviors would not destroy them, not if there was the slightest chance they hadn’t been cursed and the hatchlings would simply be ordinary children. They resolved, instead, to find families to care for each egg. “And when the eggs hatch...?” they asked each other. The reply that came was firm, resolute: “We shall have to determine if the Shade has taken root in the children. And if it has...then we’ll be ready for it.” ~ ~ ~ Thus it was that when Ithiel broke out of his shell, the first eyes he ever saw were those of the Enlightened Saviors. He didn’t know why there was such horror in those gazes, as the Saviors noted his dark-runed scales, the sludge that stubbornly caked them. He didn’t understand why they quickly drew away, conversing in hushed whispers, often shooting icy glares at him. He didn’t understand their reasons, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t need to. All that was certain was that he was in danger. Like many hatchlings, Ithiel had heard other dragons while still in his shell. He occasionally parroted these words, attempting to communicate. All the other children were kept away from him, however. His only companions, silent and disapproving, were the Enlightened Saviors and their servants. They fed him, sheltered him—but there was no goodwill behind those gestures. They observed him suspiciously as the days passed. That was all they did—watch and wait—but it didn’t take long for things to change. It all flew apart one golden afternoon, while Ithiel was playing with some blocks in the nursery. He was alone...or at least he thought he was. “Child...” The word was spoken by an old Coatl. Ithiel flinched in surprise; he hadn’t even seen them enter the room. Their scales were faded, almost blending with the pale stone walls. Their tongue idly flicked out, but except for that single motion, they were still. So still. Almost as if they were waiting... ...for...what? “Come closer, child. I’d like to have a word with you.” “A...word?” Ithiel echoed. He timidly approached the old dragon. The Coatl nodded stiffly. Their eyes glinted as they watched Ithiel toddle across the floor. It was the look in their eyes that warned the hatchling. He froze—and the Coatl let out a prolonged, piercing hiss. Their hands twitched, revealing metal-shod claws. “Don’t make it more difficult for yourself, boy. It’ll all be over soon...” All semblances of frailty were gone from the Coatl now. Their scales glowed with radiant magic, and their eyes gleamed like steel. As Ithiel watched, they raised those needle-tipped fingers. A claw extended towards him...and even though it wasn’t touching him, he felt his jaws clamped shut, his throat tightening. He had been Silenced. He huddled against the wall, his pearl clutched close, as the assassin loomed closer. “It’s a pity you were infected by the Shade. We Saviors would not normally raise our claws against children. But it is the only way...” “The Shade.” Ithiel had heard those words before. The Saviors had whispered them every so often. In his young, terrified mind, his thoughts twisted wildly: If the Saviors now wished to end him because of the Shade...then perhaps it would protect him? “Save me,” he thought, wide-eyed, tears of utter terror streaking his cheeks. He didn’t notice the sludge upon his scales quivering, the markings beneath writhing into what seemed to be phrases. Or faces... “Someone save me!” A rush of hollow cold. A jolt of fear, like electricity. Finally he looked down, saw his flesh seemingly melting, dissolving away, as though it were melding with the shadows—and silently, he screamed— And disappeared. ~ ~ ~ Awareness trickled slowly back into Ithiel’s mind. He shivered, and couldn’t seem to stop doing so, as he looked around. How long ago had the assassination attempt been? Days...weeks? He remembered his throat swelling shut, the glittering claws reaching for it. And then— Shadows, smothering. Faces howling in the dark. Cold, so cold, more crushing than the assassin’s grip would have been. But it wasn’t just around his throat. It surrounded his entire body, threatening to pulverize him. Ribs, squeezed so tightly that he’d felt his heart hammering against them. His eyeballs threatening to burst from his skull. And his pearl becoming icy cold, until he felt it would crack— It was cracked. Ithiel stared dully at it. It had always been cloudy-looking, smeared with sludge as he was, but now thin hairline cracks were visible upon the surface. Dark goo splattered upon them, leaking from his mouth. The memories would eventually solidify—but the cracks would remain beneath. He looked around. All about him were writhing, looping shapes: great, bramble-covered vines, many of them strong enough to arch even above an Imperial’s head. Some remained intact, but most bore signs of recent damage: scars from magic, slashes from weapons and claws. Through the gaps, the sky burned like an infected wound, scarlet and painful. The air stank of death. As Ithiel’s eyes adjusted, he made out lumpier shapes, close to the bases of the vines. Dead bodies...slain by the Enlightened Saviors, perhaps? “Some of them, yes.” The voice whispered in his ear, and though a part of Ithiel thrilled with terror at its sound, most of him felt strangely heavy, unconcerned, buried beneath a blanket of lassitude. “The rest of them, however...” He could hear the smile, the gloating satisfaction. “They chose to end themselves, rather than be tainted by the accursed Saviors. They chose to surrender wholly to us—as all things should, in time.” The world was growing darker. Shadows were creeping in from the edges of Ithiel’s vision, but they didn’t go away when he blinked. They crowded closer...closer...until he realized they had coalesced into a form in front of him. A form about the same size and shape as he was. “Your Shadow Step has brought you to us. You will be among our most favored,” Ithiel’s Shadow crooned. Its fingers reached out, brushed his face like cobwebs. Again, part of him wanted to recoil, but he did not. He sat dreamily as the Shadow ran its claws over his mane, his pearl... “You will stand with our Awakened Void, bring sacrifices for us to devour. Our mark is upon you, and our emptiness shall give you strength.” Beneath the Shadow’s hissing, Ithiel heard another sound, wet and whispery sighs. Movement—there, among the brambles. A hulking form, slowly rising. He felt the gorge rising at the back of his throat. The approaching form was a gigantic Guardian, but one that had clearly been dead for some time. Lurid runes, glowing with unholy light, scored its blackened hide. Its decaying head swung towards him, the empty eye sockets boring into his soul. “No,” the Shadow whispered, “this will be your shield.” “Shield?” Ithiel thought. His throat still refused to form words. But the fear was slowly being buried again.... “Our loyal servant,” tittered the Shadow. The Runes upon the Guardian’s hide flickered in tandem with its laugh. And then the gigantic dragon reached out, closed a paw around Ithiel. Putrid air assailed him, and he tried to gag and scream at once— And he was moving, the world dipping sickeningly beneath him as the Guardian loped away. He peered out through the talons as though they were cage bars, glimpsing more corpses, burned-out dens... Within him, memory stirred. Memory...or perhaps something more. Something that wasn’t entirely Ithiel. The Shadow laughed and, as all shadows did, it flowed along behind. Horror and exhaustion soon dragged Ithiel into slumber, but he could still hear its whispery laugh, even beneath his dreams. ~ ~ ~ Deep in the darkened woods, Ithiel stayed. He tried to flee from the monstrous Guardian a few times, but it always recaptured him, closing its claws around him. He soon learned to stop struggling, and slumped listlessly in its grasp while the Shadow danced around them. It was always whispering, always mocking—always, for Ithiel was completely silent. He never spoke again, and perhaps he never would. The Shadow had referred to the Guardian as a “shield”, and Ithiel soon found out why. Dragons came to the forest to hunt him. They came from different Flights, and clearly served different gods— But every single one bore the mark of the Enlightened Saviors of Sornieth. They were no match for the dread Guardian, though. The undead beast slew them, all while Ithiel watched and the Shadow gloated. Even without the Shadow’s influence, Ithiel would have learned to despise these hunters. They cared not that he was a child, seeing him only as a fiend to be eliminated. “Yes, Ithiel...then why don’t you become one? Then it will be their turn to know the terror of being hunted.” The Guardian traveled steadily with Ithiel in its grasp. It soon became clear that it had a destination. Ithiel remembered the Shadow mentioning it once. The Awakened Void... Much like the Roving Eye, they were a cult that worshiped the Shade. They were headed by a dragon named Azazel, whom the Shade had claimed as its own. Ithiel remembered his arrival at the defiled altar, surrounded by black-robed cultists. He remembered himself being dropped at Azazel’s feet. The undead Guardian slowly collapsing in on itself, its final mission complete. And the Shadow rising up beside him, whispering just beneath the edge of hearing... And Azazel, at last, extending ink-black claws towards him. “Welcome, favored one. Shadow Walker. Shade Sentry,” he murmured. His teeth gleamed in a pale, sickle-moon smile. Ithiel reached out without hesitation. He grasped the cult leader’s claws... And so he fell back into the Shade’s possession. As the Shadow had promised, he was favored above most of the other cultists, made Captain of their Sentries. The Enlightened Saviors had failed to stop Ithiel from reaching the cult, but they didn’t stop hunting it. They continued making forays into the forest—though one such as Ithiel, who had evaded them practically since hatching, soon grew adept at dispatching them. In fact... “There,” the Shadow whispered. “See how their feeble lights flicker in the darkness.” Ithiel nodded stolidly. He uttered not a word, and perhaps he never would. The Shadow remained tethered to him, and he was content to let it continue speaking for them both. He had already wholly surrendered to it, after all. “How shall they entertain us today? Torn apart by sentient bramble? Drowning slowly beneath the quagmire?” Ithiel was already moving. A Shadow Step, darting instantly through darkness, to deliver the news to the cult. The Shadow shrieked with glee as it outlined their plans. The Enlightened Saviors would be lost in an endless labyrinth, dodging terrors that might or might not truly be there. Their strength would fail them. Perhaps they would even turn against each other. Their bones would sink into the loam, while their souls would be absorbed into the Shade... At Ithiel’s command, the cultists began closing in. Soon the hunt would begin—and unlike the Enlightened Saviors, Ithiel wouldn’t fail. |
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Exalting Ithiel to the service of the Shadowbinder 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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