Paracelsus
(#80439034)
Level 1 Imperial
Familiar
Crowned Bonepriest
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Male Imperial
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
21.43 m
Wingspan
21.28 m
Weight
9250.55 kg
Genetics
Beige
Pharaoh
Pharaoh
Soil
Sarcophagus
Sarcophagus
Ivory
Stained
Stained
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
Biography
 
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Paracelsus
apothecary | melancholy | wise | compassionate mate: N/A An apothecary by trade, Paracelsus has never been wanting for clients. All he need do is take two steps to encounter a dragon riddled with sickness. Luckily, Paracelsus is well-equipped with tinctures and concoctions that heal even the most ghastly the Scarred Wasteland has to offer and though hailed as miracle worker in the quarantine zones, Paracelsus remains humble, rarely staying long enough to hear commendations. For many years, he travelled this way, treating ailing dragons before departing for the next zone.Then, he caught wind of an imperial clan lost within the Abiding Boneyard. His blood ran cold. For he had heard legend of the monstrosity imperials created when passed on without a burial. So gathering his strongest medicines, Paracelsus set forth. He couldn't say how long he wandered the Boneyard when he heard the roar: not of an ordinary beast, but a chorus of gargled cries. He turned and saw a shadow hobble towards him. It jerked and pulsated, as if trying to break apart, but still lumbered towards him. Snarls and gnashing of teeth accompanied the shape, and Paracelsus froze. They were a mass of imperials, long since expired but their remains fused together to create an Emperor dragon, and it was gaining speed towards him. Paracelsus spread his wings to flee, but before he could take flight, the Emperor loomed over him and everything went black. When Paracelsus awoke, he choked on the stench of death. Though not an unfamiliar smell, he had never been a part of it. Now, it clogged his nostrils and seeped through his scales, coating his innards. He sought escape, but his legs were no longer his own. His wings and joined a larger sum and even his breath synchronized with the choking gasps of others. He was slowly fusing with the Emperor and upon the realization, he fought. With all his might he clawed, bit, and pulled. Nevermind the gushing blood nor the indescribable pain. Even as his skin ripped, he fought until he was a single imperial once more and fled. Not once did he look back, even as the Emperor cried out. Paracelsus had escaped, but he was still lost within the Abiding Boneyard. He had also taken great damage from the struggle and his body dragged like a carcass, good only for the carcass eating insects that had mistaken him for already dead. The bugs nibbled and gnawed at his tender flesh, but Paracelsus pushed forward, even as his vision blurred and throat parched. Eventually, he found a patch of green: an impossibility in the endless sickly yellow of the Plague Realm. Still, Paracelsus pursued and found clean water with the patch. Overjoyed, he collapsed before it and drank. As he had his fill, a guardian named Millicent approached. She observed his wounds and insisted he stay to recuperate within her territory, a Sanctuary, she called it. With no other option, Paracelsus accepted. He laid body down but rather than recover, he changed. Though the pain in his wounds subsided, they constantly bled. Parts of the bugs had fused with his body, mutating him to resemble their kind, and his face had also become loathsome and scarred, leading him to hide behind a mask which he filled with herbs to abate the constant stench of death. Nonetheless, the dragons of this clan approached Paracelsus with ease. They did not fear his new form, and they spoke to him as an equal. Paracelsus soon grew fond of these dragons, and he requested to join their ranks and take permanent residence within the Sanctuary. Millicent and the other dragons gladly accepted, and it is here where Paracelsus continues his trade. Though too weary to travel, he still treats dragons who pass through, ensuring that none suffer as he had. Despite his frightening form, Paracelsus has found peace within the Sanctuary. Most nights, he rests easy, but sometimes he swears he could hear the Emperor's roar. Perhaps one day he will find a cure to free them of their prison.
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Exalting Paracelsus 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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