Alder
(#78220167)
Has Lore
Familiar
Poltergeist Pile
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Male Pearlcatcher
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.14 m
Wingspan
3.71 m
Weight
447.73 kg
Genetics
Midnight
Boulder
Boulder
Midnight
Myrid
Myrid
Midnight
Smirch
Smirch
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
Alder
Alchemist of the Shade
|
The clan did not have a name—it was still too new for that. But its founder, Thalia, already had great dreams. They would be a mighty lair, she told herself. They would endure through centuries, through calamities. They would grow strong in the Shadowbinder’s service, train thousands of dragons to be Her exalted servants... Life in the Tangled Wood was not easy even at the best of times—on her first forays into the surrounding darkness, Thalia had come across abandoned lairs, all but swallowed up by the muck and the moss. She couldn’t help wondering what had happened to them, and where their inhabitants had gone. “But that won’t happen to my clan!” she thought fiercely. She looked out of her roost, and the sight of her clan below, its dragons still very much alive and industrious, reassured her. She allowed herself to smile. And then, as any good leader would, she glided down to check how things were going. They had welcomed a few newcomers recently, and she wanted to make sure they’d settled in. “Good day, Leader Thalia.” The Tundra’s face softened in a smile. “Just ‘Thalia’ is fine, Alder. Thank you.” The Pearlcatcher ducked his head bashfully. He had joined up a few days back, and he was still shy, preferring to spend most of his time in his den. He had been making an effort to go out and talk with the other dragons, though, and had even made a few friends. “Coming thr—oh!” A Spiral tumbled out of the dark forest, coming to a mid-air halt beside Thalia and Alder. “Beggin’ your pardon, Thalia. I’ve got some mushrooms for our alchemist here.” “Kieran has been a great help,” Alder chimed in, his head bobbing eagerly. “I need specific ingredients to perfect my potions! I keep getting them wrong; it hasn’t been the same since...” He trailed off, coughing quietly. Feigning it, Thalia knew, and she and Kieran traded concerned looks. The young Pearlcatcher had come to the lair alone, carrying only a tattered bundle of supplies. His clan had perished in a Beastclan attack while he’d been away on a foraging trip; he’d returned to find the tiny lair torn apart and his clanmates, including his family, gone—or taken... “You’ll figure it out again, I’m sure,” Thalia murmured. Alder looked up from sorting through the basket of mushrooms, his violet eyes still faintly misty. “Thank you. I’ll try.” “You need some more help, Alder? I’m going out again shortly.” “No, Kieran, I’m fine. Um...I was thinking, though, since you’ve been such a huge help...well, I was thinking about brewing some tea...” “Say no more! Maybe in a couple of hours—would that be OK with you?” Thalia withdrew with a smile. “A strong clan, but a friendly one...” she thought contentedly. Everything would be all right. ~ ~ ~ Alder carried the mushrooms back into his den. He shut the door behind him, making sure to lock it, and strode towards the far wall. He was an alchemist, yes, as he had claimed to that idiot Tundra—but also more, so much more. The Shade had given him so much power... He strode through the illusory wall and into the back of the cavern. He’d hollowed this space out himself. No one knew it was here; the illusions he’d woven around it were too convincing. And here, he’d prepared everything necessary to deliver this clan into his master’s claws. A skull, carved all over with runes, sat on a shelf. Its eye sockets shone with a baleful light as Alder approached. He was already muttering, weaving a curtain of silence around himself. Nobody would hear him—or the skull—now. As he picked it up, it drew in a guttering breath. “Traitor!” it wailed, and behind that were so many other voices, so many other souls Alder had brought low before his master... “Be silent,” he growled. Immediately, the skull’s jaws snapped shut. The runes that now slithered over its surface bound it more tightly than any chain ever could. “Night will fall soon,” the Pearlcatcher whispered, his gaze boring into the skull’s eye sockets. “The clan is still without dedicated guards. The gatherers have been rotating shifts, but they’ll be too tired to resist...” Too tired, because like that oaf Kieran, they’d been only too glad to help scared, sniveling Alder with his chores. And as a gesture of goodwill, he’d brewed cups of tea for them. They’d been delighted to drink those aromatic concoctions! They were already so tired, after all... By the time the potions kicked in, they’d be even more tired. Too tired to fly away, to pick up their weapons...but not too tired to understand the horror that was descending upon their pitiful clan. Alder whispered all this information and more to the skull. He finished with yet another spell: As he spoke, silvery vapors flowed from the skull, weaving into a spectral form. Another dragon, but older, his face deeply lined with hardship. He glared at Alder, but the same runes that bound his skull also wreathed his body, and he was forced to glide away. He would travel far, but be unable to escape from his foul master, or to speak words other than the message Alder had imbued him with. The Shade’s grip upon him was too powerful for that. ~ ~ ~ Alder spent the rest of the night brewing certain potions. The “tea” he’d given some of his clanmates would be useful, but he wanted to see how the others would react to different concoctions. Perhaps somewhere among them were those who were truly worthy of the Shade’s power... He smiled almost fondly as he remembered: He had been young and curious, ideal traits for an alchemist. And so he had been apprenticed to one—that part of his cover story, at least, was true. His mentor had owned an extensive library. Alder, eager to escape from the endless chores and errands, had spent plenty of time there. Many of the ancient tomes contained knowledge that was not for young and impressionable minds, but Alder, eager to learn more...so much more...had read all of them. He’d inevitably come across knowledge that was forbidden, and for good reason: It related to spells that could be turned to evil ends, magic to dominate and destroy. Alder still recalled the rush of exhilaration he’d felt in that instant: Here was true power! It was nearly in his grasp... He’d been discovered, of course. His mentor had noticed those strange shifts in his personality, glimpsed some of his notes. He had angrily confronted Alder, threatening to throw him out. The young Pearlcatcher had broken down in tears. He had begged for forgiveness, pleading for another chance. “I didn’t know; I didn’t fully understand! Please...I’m scared the Shade has got a hold of me. Please help me!” Seeing his abject terror, the old alchemist had relented. “We’ll figure something out, boy. Just try to get some sleep,” he’d sighed. He had turned away then, and failed to see Alder’s smirk, the vicious glint in his eyes.... It had taken a few days for the rest of the clan to notice the old drake’s disappearance. A search party had been sent out, and they’d eventually found his body. His head, or what remained of it, now sat upon Alder’s shelf, carved with those hideous runes. There was a knock on the door. “‘Scuse me, Alder? You in there?” “Yes, Kieran.” Alder’s face shone with a warm, earnest smile as he turned around. “Come inside! Your tea is ready...” ~ ~ ~ It had been a long day, and Thalia was considering turning in for the night when she saw Alder bustling up to her. His face was deeply creased with worry, and he whispered, as though he were afraid to say it, “Have you seen Kieran anywhere?” “Not since this morning, when we were both speaking with him. Didn’t you invite him to your den earlier?” “He never showed up. S...Something must’ve happened to him out there...!” Thalia felt the drowsiness leave her, replaced by frosty dread. She prepared to call out to the guards, but Alder was already tugging her towards the trees. “Please, Clan Leader, we have to hurry! There isn’t any time to lose!” The look upon his face was so distraught that Thalia found herself unable to refuse. She straightened up, trying to appear calm and composed. “He doesn’t usually go far. Let’s see if we can find him.” Alder broke into a relieved smile. “Thank you,” he choked out, and then he turned and plunged into the trees, his satchel bouncing against his side. Thalia was right behind him. The Tundra’s nostrils flared as she smelled loam, rainwater, moss....She had to lean away from Alder. The alchemist was almost always cloaked in a sweet, pleasant scent, no doubt the effect of brewing too many potions. The smell had sunk deeply into his dark mantle, which he always wore as protection while foraging. She concentrated on what she could hear instead...or not hear. The forest was unusually quiet; what sounds she heard were suppressed, as though the wild creatures were trying to hide. “The air feels...strange.” “I’ll say.” Alder proffered a waterskin. “Drink?” Thalia took a grateful sip. The water had a bitter aftertaste, and she wrinkled her nose. “Must be one of his medicinal concoctions.” And then she let out a heavy sigh. “Oh, that Kieran...He probably lost track of time. He’s such an easygoing sort...” “He was, wasn’t he?” “Now, don’t say it like that, Alder! I’m sure he’s not yet gone!” That was what Thalia wanted to say. She thought the words clearly, felt her mouth preparing to speak them. But her legs folded beneath her, and she collapsed upon the loamy ground. With great effort, she groaned, “What’s...hap’ning...?” Alder turned. Thalia expected his eyes to widen, thought he would start screaming in horror... But instead, his face was calm. Too calm. “Still speaking, I see. But I suppose a clan leader would have more mettle. They usually do.” Comprehension washed over Thalia like an ice-cold wave. She suddenly understood and was flooded with horror— —and rage. With a muffled bellow, she tottered to her feet, lurched towards Alder. Her claws slashed at him, tangling in his mantle. With another heave, she tore the thick fabric aside... In the end, it wasn’t the poison that felled her. It was the horror lurking underneath: Alder’s midnight skin writhed with hideous forms, whorls and loops that coalesced into grotesque faces. Here a cluster of tiny Fae, their fins fluttering with terror...there an ancient Snapper, his mouth agape in a mournful scream. A bearded Guardian howled, his eyes aglow with residual magic. A Serthis twisted wildly, trying to tear themself from the accursed Pearlcatcher’s scales... And there, twining across his chest: Kieran’s face, frozen into a wail, his coils contorted in agony. Terror bloomed in Thalia’s heart. It was like a dagger, sharpened by the agony of understanding. Of knowing what was to come. “Ah...welcome, everyone...” Through her tears, the Tundra saw several forms separate themselves from the shadows. All wore clothing like Alder’s, dark mantles that covered up a multitude of horrors. All of them lost souls that had been sacrificed to the Shade. The cultists began converging upon the defenseless lair. Alder, meanwhile, leaned down. He had a few choice words for the Tundra, but to his surprise, she was already gone, her unseeing eyes still weeping agonized tears. He actually laughed at that. “Died of fright, did you, now? Well, that’s one way to beat the poison. A pity...your fury would have been a sweet repast for the Shade.” But there would be other feasts, other rewards to be had. Alder stepped over the Tundra’s corpse and headed back towards her clan, just as the first screams of terror rose into the air. |
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Exalting Alder 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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