Hex » Lair » Tatzel

Tatzel

(#79998946)

Level 1 Veilspun

Familiar

Vile Grin

Energy: 47/50

Personal Style

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

0.92 m

Wingspan

1.06 m

Weight

0.88 kg

Genetics

Hatchday

Aug 06, 2022
(1 year)

Breed

Adult
Veilspun

Eye Type

Shadow
Rare

Level 1 Veilspun

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

none

Biography

━━ INFO ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

.
.
.
.T A T Z E L
[ he / him ]
the tender
gardener
enthralled
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XXXXX

"Eat the grubs and scrub the spores and clear the roots and trim the branches and eat the grubs and feed the rot and eat the grubs and feed the rot and eat the blood and feed the rot and feed the rot and--"

The tiny veilspun freezes up before shaking himself off, the flowers crowning his antlers releasing a soft shower of golden pollen. A forked tongue rolls over the side of his snout, clearing away the shimmering dust from ichor-stained skin before the small creature seems to settle down. He rearranges his grip on the wood below him before snapping his jaws into a crack in the wood -- a deep peacock liquid oozes from the earthy wound, oily and viscous as it's greedily lapped up by the insect. It's only then that he notices you, his head whipping up to stare your way, still clinging to the slumbering goliaths in the heart of the forest.

"Ah, hm. Are you lost?" He tilts his head, keeping his gaze locked on the newcomer while his body scurries around for better positioning, claws dipping into the cracks and nooks of gnarled wood with practiced precision. "Or are you looking to be found?"

Moth-like wings flare with a sharp snap, backlit by the lanterns strung around his shoulders -- but with the noise comes another: a low earthy rumble that resonates deep within your bones. The very earth itself seems to rumble and roll beneath your feet, pulsing with a dull warmth like a heartbeat. The sound starts to thrum in your ears, the roots of the giant trees twitching in time -- or are they? It's hard to focus on them, your head starting to throb and spin as the constant ache forces you to buckle.

"Oh! Don't worry, they're still sleeping--" the voice buzzes by your ear, the veilspun seeming to have left his perch to flit around your brow, apparently unbothered by the low empty ache spreading through your head. The woods themselves seem to be echoing the dull pulse, the inky void of their branches swallowing up the air around you, and yet the dragon continues to speak: "You just took a wrong turn, shouldn't be much to head back! No! Not far at all."

There's a low pressure behind your eyes, the ground itself is opening up beneath you-- dregs of earth crumble away from bloated roots, you can see through the ground itself and into the glowing network of fungus-- of veins and tendrils swarming beneath your resting place, the heat of it causing sweat to raise on the back of your neck, the throbbing of your own heart mirroring the dark green pulsing mass before your eyes. It's alive-- they're alive.

Your head whips up and you find yourself being followed by four sets of eyes, no longer the single veilspun -- the bark covering their massive forms starting to crack and tumble like desiccated mud, revealing glimmering peacock scales and a membranous film that pulses between the armoured plates. It feels like they're talking but your head hurts, everything hurts, all you can hear is the continuous chatter of the veilspun but oh gods the beings want to speak, they want to greet, they want to touch, they want to--

"Ohp! Oh ho-- ho! Well, bit early for this, innit?" There's a gentle breeze as the little dragon lands near your head, "You seein' stuff, little wanderer?" You can barely see the flowers atop his head as the creatures start to claw themselves free from their wooden restraints. Beast with too many limbs, too many teeth, too many eyes start to emerge, their eyes a bottomless void and their chests covered in lichen and oozing pits that secrete oily peacock ichor. Their breath lingers on your skin, one that looks something like a mix between a cerdae and a pearlcatcher opens its mouth-- all that pours out is more ichor. The woods throb and cry as it pours out over the grass, leaves turning to mulch and fungus sprouting from their decomposed matter, insects scurry over one another to avoid the coming death, feeding on each other to stave off their end. The obelisk turns to stare at you.

A question is asked.

You can't open your mouth, you're drowning and your head is spinning into the void.

The question is asked again.

"Best not to answer that right now," his little voice rings directly in your ear and the cold touch of his inky paws against your head breaks the heat of entropy-- a mild distraction from the inquisitive giants currently running amock in your mind, "I don't think you meant to come here, yeah? Don'cha worry, Tatzel's gotcha."

Something sweet hits your senses, burning your eyes and causing you to claw at your nose. The veilspun continues to crawl across your crown, your head itching and pulsing where his claws rest against it. There's a sharp nip, and then everything seems to fade away.

Just you, the veilspun, and the woods.

No pulse, no beings, just as things should be.

The trickle of blood down your brow mixes with sparkling pollen, but there's no pain.

"You were just leaving, aye?" The veilspun-- Tatzel, stares directly into your eyes as he hops from your head, hovering mere inches from your nose in a sheer shower of pollen. "You're honestly here a few months early! I'd normally say that--- that--" he wipes away something red from his snout, that long tongue lapping up the beaded liquid, "Hm, that you were fine to stay, but... well. You seem like you have creatures to go home to, right?"

He bumps into your nose a few times as if trying to push you back and you start to feel your limbs again, bleary and heavy, but there as you push yourself up to your feet. What did you come here for again? What did you see? Your head feels heavy and tired...

"Just follow the lanterns out! You'll reach the oasis border in a few hours, tell them-- hm. Hm. Tell them? That. That..." Tatzel shakes his head, sending out another huff of pollen, "Tell them that you need clarity. They'll help you out. Maybe then you can come back and play later!"

You're not sure what that means, but it feels... right. A promise to return to this place, to return to the roots, to the blood itself, to entropy.

Another time.

━━ NOTES ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ HOARD ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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» canonically around the size of a macaw with
moth- like wings, tends to leave shimmering dust behind
him as he flies around.

» strings up lanterns throughout the woods, not
as a guiding path, but as markers. He usually returns to
those sites to deal with pests, infestations, paint murals,
leave offerings, or anything else before moving it to a
new location. This does little to help anyone lost within
the woods, however.

» his snoot and paws are all stained from drinking
'godsblood' -- the ichor that seeps from the Solstice dragons
he guards. It keeps him tethered to them and gives him
a plethora of special abilities, but he can no longer leave
the woods whatsoever. He's traded his freedom for eternal
servitude in exchange for knowledge and meaning.

» unable to hypnotise other users, but the multiple
flowers growing on his 'antlers' have the ability to soothe
minds and help people re-focus. He can't release it
intentionally, but it usually kicks in when need be.
Most times. Usually.

» favourite food is fat beetle larvae because they
go pop, but he will also go to town on a full grown
beetle and chew away at its husk through the day.

» would drink blood out of a juice box if possible, but
ichor can't be transported easily, so vampirebatmode it is.

» an absolutely terrible flirt but rarely has the
opportunity to do so since most people slowly lose
themselves in the forest. He tends to linger by the
border of the forest and oasis when possible to flirt
with Seir. Seir is flattered by the attention, although
she doesn't always understand it.

» hibernates all winter, the moment that the Solstice
beasts wake up, he starts to nod off. There's only
around two weeks total where they can interact --
at least outside of his mind, that is.

» loves frogs and salamanders, when he's lost in his
own mind, he sometimes pretends he's a frog. It's
fine, he's fine, he's having a blast.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

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abcdefuab

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━━━ + GUARD ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
. . .

abcdefuab

- - - + • • •

━━━ + GUARD ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
. . .

abcdefuab

- - - + • • •

━━━ + GUARD ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
. . .

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screaming crying 300G perfectionxxertegghxxxeggxeggxegg

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0/1000

Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.

Exalting Tatzel to the service of the Earthshaker 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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