ViolentViolet77 » Lair » Falcon

Falcon

(#78749536)

Someone's gotta save us now, and I guess it's me

Familiar

Colony Killer

Energy: 49/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

13.41 m

Wingspan

17.88 m

Weight

8231.05 kg

Genetics

Blood
Falcon

Slate
Striation

Cream
Smoke

Hatchday

Jun 10, 2022
(1 year)

Breed

Adult
Obelisk

Eye Type

Wind
Common

Level 1 Obelisk

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

none

Biography

Under a broken Sky, all that glimmers is laid bare...
Falcon, Explorer of the Depths, Continuation of Salvation

The Tale

There's not much time to waste in the subterranean. No, not at all, with things constantly changing and shifting under your very feet. One would think living in such winding, mysterious and expansive caverns would be more stable than this! But no, never in the past and never in the future would life, safety, or ideals be guaranteed.

Despite this truth, Falcon continued to fight for stability anyways.

As an obelisk, he was granted the boons of strength and power in his every step as soon as he was born. Large and well armed, him and his extended family found no issue living in the deeper caverns, away from conflict and other dragons, and feeding themselves with extra to spare. Magics were passed down through their lineage from ancestors long forgotten, subtle elemental abilities known to the subterranean as nothing more than 'an obelisk thing.'

It is a shame, what was destined to be forgotten.

Falcon, unlike his sisters, cousins and parents, grew into this born magic at a very young age. The abilities he had to feel the air and bend it under his wings was a seemingly weak ability for an underground world, where expanding his wings all the way would leave them scraping from wall to wall in almost every passageway. But this? This could be remedied. He trained and practiced through his youth, creating and then mastering a way to fly through the tunnels as fast- no, faster- than any slithering spiral or buzzing veilspun. Gravity and direction had no hold on him. His family didn't see much value in this talent beyond knowing he would always be the quickest in a chase or when fleeing.

His favorite cousin, though, saw much greater value in little Falcon. She had much to achieve and little to utilize besides her incredible might, which she knew wouldn't be the tool to every problem. Once Falcon was skilled enough to catch his cousin Toham's attention, she made sure to stay on his good side. She became his closest family in their large extended lineage, paying more attention and offering more praise than anyone.

One day, she left. She'd warned him change was in the air, and he'd answered that he didn't note a single current out of place. But these winds were ones he couldn't glide, couldn't see- they were the ones she was making.

For years after, he waited. And missed her, greatly, but grew tired of the wait. He heard whispers and rumors echoing through distant passages as he flew, from faraway strangers who spoke just a little too loud. His cousin made ripples in the solid stone of the world- the one where the strong survived. The air smelled like hope, and he had to adjust to the lightness of it.

Years again passed. He stayed with the family, stayed with his patterns, but his boredom grew and grew. He cared for no art besides his flight, and being the only one who could do it left him lonely and alone. He did have one friend- a strange, occasional visitor who stuck out so sharply from the walls. Romeo, the dancer, offered him the occasional conversation and new outlook he so desired.

His family... They were strong. They were good. But they would never change things, no- they wouldn't try to make new things work, and grow. But he did. And his cousin Toham was too...

There was a reason she left. And why he did too, without a trace.

He tracked her down over the next several months, gliding into a small chamber where she slept and prodding her awake with a smile.

She scarred him that night. Her body was covered in blood and wounds, her strength being torn away from her- piece by piece. Her rippling fur was dull and dusty, and her claws grew cracked and dull. She'd lost teeth, she'd lost passion, and she looked at him with angry yet dulled and hollow eyes.

She scarred him that night by demonstrating that those dull claws could still break his hide with ease, draw his blood as a punctuation to her roaring, enraged plea for him to turn back and go home, back to stability, and away from the nonsense she'd created. He hopped back and lifted himself to the top of the cavern, refusing.

What had she done? What had happened? He wouldn't leave her without answers for all these years, time that couldn't even be measured! She refused. She threatened. She spat and slashed at him, over and over. After that first strike, he could avoid her well enough.

For days, he chased her through the tunnels as she tried to abandon him again. For days, he stuck right by her tail- he was always the fastest, always the winner of the chase.

Eventually, Toham had to give in to the persistent gnat of her own creation and explain how she'd discovered that their family were the only comfortable ones in existence. All over the infinite caverns and tunnels, smaller and weaker dragons lived and died in brief blips, hunted by abundant monsters and starved by competition for food. She'd wandered and fought to keep these drakes safe- and look what it had earned her... Titles and legends, scars and blood, pain and enemies who wished she'd never lived. Jealous fools who saw no value in her work when it clouded the judgement of a lover. Look what it had earned her- misery!

Misery and purpose. Something Falcon lacked.

When he quietly told her he would take that misery in exchange for meaning, she didn't even try to fight back. She made him this way. She'd tasted the same longing, and took it.

Toham guided him to join the burgeoning Subterrainian clan, her enemies, to gather information and protect the exploited drakes- those who had no choice but to comply to the tyrant Pherion or die alone against the forces of nature. His soaring talents were recognized as an asset immediately by Pherion! A swift and powerful young drake, looking for a purpose? Well that simply couldn't go to waste.

He could find things for them- food sources, valuables, new caverns to exploit and recruits for the clan. His speed was unrivalled, even here, and his memory was sharp. Even if he wasn't the greatest fighter, he was still an obelisk. His mere appearance could drive off enemies from the smaller and more vulnerable clan mates. His loyalties weren't questioned once he revealed the large claw marks on his shoulder, given by his cousin, and said exactly who they were from.

The subterranean was no place for Toham anymore. Falcon missed out on her glory days and walked right into her darkest hour, and she knew he'd need that badge on his flesh to make it in and out alive. That was why she gave it to him at all.

Now in the Subterrainian, his days were busy and heavy. He was often put to work guiding and escorting the clan's gatherers and miners to resources, and helping them haul their findings back to the clan's dens. It was hard work, but his boisterous attitude and dogged durability won the joy and respect from his clan mates. But as Toham instructed, he kept them at arm's length. He wasn't here to make friends and find family. He was here to save, here to rescue, here to prevent suffering and scars. And those opportunities came in spades- disappointingly common spades! Dragons all around him, just like Toham, were worn to death by the clan's relentless work pace and the empress' cruelty.

He would escort hunters to quiet spaces and watch over them while they rested for the first time in days, the tyrant Pherion seeing no use in sleep if the clan wasn't fully stocked at every moment. He broke stone for the miners whose bones and joints screeched louder than any cave bat for them to just stop and rest before they shattered, and hid his callouses under ripped gloves. He took on the burdens so that the others could glide on a refreshed, sweet breeze of hope.

Among those many years of living in the clan, one incident struck him much more severely. He'd grown close to two of the miners- the two gaolers, rare and furry oddities like himself- and their young son, whom they loved more than anything in the world. They wanted more for him- a life with love and hope, with opportunity, and with freedom. They told Falcon their plans as their hatchling napped, to overthrow the tyranny. They asked him to defend them if they succeeded or protect their son if they failed.

They failed.

Falcon stole the infant gaoler away in seconds once he'd heard the commotion, racing away towards the top of their world to tuck him away where he'd be safe. Pherion was never one for mercy, no matter how innocent her target was. For little Itri's parent's crimes, he would have been killed. Their bloodline extinguished.

He tucked the infant in a crack in the wall, and promised to return.

He never got the chance. As soon as he returned to the clan, suspicion was cast over him for disappearing when he should have been home. Why, Falcon, were you late to see the bodies of your friends pass down the Pitdeep? Why, Falcon, did you not share the burden of tossing them into the pit? You are strong. You are meant to carry such things for us.

Suddenly, Toham's pain made sense.

Toham always reassured him after those difficult days. Usually he met her on his explorations, giving her information and supplies as she continues to weave her way deeper into hiding. Over the next couple years she taught him a code of symbols, which she scratched into the walls, to follow her movements through the subterranean. She told him in cryptic words that she'd found a way to offer fresh air to them all, again. He could smell the sweetness of her words. He hoped she spoke true, as the burdens continued to pile onto his shoulders.

Then, the Sky shattered above them. In two day's time from that final meeting with Toham, their entire world was changed- changed forever, and changed in the most terrifying way.

And Toham disappeared.

Falcon suddenly had ripples of wind and real, existing breezes to fly with when before there was nothing but what he'd always known. Suddenly, there was nothing to bow to or learn from. Suddenly, he had no direction, when he'd always been the one to navigate and guide. Suddenly, he was alone. Suddenly, everything was his burden.

The clan grew frantic and paranoid, trusting nobody. Falcon's frequent time alone suddenly ended, as nobody was to be trusted with freedom- not when they could be finding a way to the new world, fraternizing with their new enemies the Fractallians. The new rules gave Falcon no room to continue what Toham had left behind.

Now more than ever, the clan needed him to lead them to freedom. He shared the meaning of the symbols to Toham's path to freedom, and hid his smiles as the weak and tired took them, ran with them, leaving forever and making Pherion tear at her piles of gold in rage. Even if it was slowly costing him his every right he had- suspicion grew like a slow cancer- these moments were sweet. This was victory.

But with those seconds game the much more plentiful hours of regret and resentment for Toham's choices. She locked him into this mess, so deeply as to risk his life, and then abandoned him as soon as hope made itself known. The sweetness of the new, cold air couldn't reach him, while she lived and breathed it. She had to be on the surface, right? She couldn't have gone anywhere else. She left him with every burden- every responsibility- to be the savior of the underground. The hero she'd been for years.

Without a free moment to even try to find her again, he may never gain the chance to make those feelings known.

The Subterrainian
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The Fractallians
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Relations

The Good Work Never Ceases
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Unlikely Allies
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Cousin's Abandonment
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Notation

Swooping Subterfuge

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Exalting Falcon 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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