Fathom

The Monster at the Marina



Deep below the surface of the water, where light's warming touch gives way to a murky abyss, something stirrs. A crude green glow flickers to life, revealing the expressionless fangs of a kelp-guised hunter. With a powerful stroke, his swirled wings force a massive current, driving him upwards. Within seconds, his hulking form breaks the stillness of the underground lake. Water cascades off of the dragon's back, crashing below, and letting his presence be known to all those on land. Excited jabber begins at the shoreline, drawing Fathom's attention in the dimly-lit sinkhole. With a throaty grumble, he makes his way to the collection of tunnels that lead down to his lake. Best not to keep them waiting. As his hefty, waterlogged form lands on the ground, the dragon clears his throat. Webbed claws grasp the spear hooked neatly in the net wrapped around his side, and he effortlessly swings it to attention. His massive jaws barely seem to move as words whisper through large teeth to the small, yet sizable crowd. "What are today's requests?"

Huge fangs hide a soft voice. Fathom grew up ostracized from his community, as superstition ran rampant in his birth tribe. Being born with the "jaws of a killer", most of his attempts at joining in daily activities were met with distrust. Eventually, the young dragon took to spending his days watching the sea alone. Communing with the element that he was attuned to brought him peace, and watching the ecosystem thrive brought many fine details to his attention that would've otherwise gone unnoticed. The ebb and flow of predators and prey, weakness being weeded out and devoured, horror alongside beauty, all as schools of species swirled in a harmonious balance. But as the dragon population boomed across Sorineth, eventually Fathom's eden was disturbed. Attempting to reason with outsiders was nearly impossible once the stretch of shoreline was discovered. Most would see an involuntary snarl before any words could reach their ears and would attack on sight. Those that did listen often jeered at the idea of one dragon owning all the fish in the sea, despite Fathom's protests that this was an entirely different situation. Before long, the place that he had once gone to relax had become a booming fishing spot, and Fathom knew he had to leave.

~

Flying North along the shoreline of the Windswept Plateau, the prevalent bamboo fields began to give way to barren stretches of dead earth. Mushrooms poked up from festering roots, and the air began to feel thick with spores. With the change in scenery came the realization of just how far Fathom had been flying. Slowing his wingbeats, the dragon landed on the...ugh...pulsating ground. That's going to take some getting used to, he thought, slowly extending and retracting his webbed claws. Deciding one of the gargantuan bones littering the area would be more comfortable, he took to the air once more before curling up on what appeared to be a large scapula protruding from the earth. The weight of his journey began to swirl in his mind, clouding it with fatigue until Fathom felt himself drift off.
"WOAH! Look at this guy's face!" An unfamiliar voice woke Fathom with a start. Blinking his eyes open, the blinding light allows only the silhouette of a Ridgeback to be identified. A ridgeback so close, in fact, that his nose nearly touched Fathom's forehead. "Oh, shoot, of course that woke you up! It's just...wow! You look like you could rip someone's face off with one bite!" The outsider drifted backwards, then landed to the ground with one effortless swoop. Surprisingly, as Fathom's eyes adjusted, he could tell that the Ridgeback was grinning, and seemed rather excited at the aspect of biting another dragon's face off. He also was now able to make out a second dragon sitting next to where the other had landed.
"What's I tell ya's about getting up'n personal-like with scavs mindin' their own--! Yee-ikes! What kinda' magics gave ya them chompers?!" Four pallid red eyes widened as the second dragon realized what his travelling companion had been talking about. Fathom was confused; did these dragons...like his teeth? Neither dragon had acted aggressively, he figured there was no harm in meeting these two, even if it was painfully obvious that they wanted to talk about one of his biggest insecurities.