Level 7 Banescale
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Flying Fawn
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Fire.
Female Banescale
This dragon is an ancient breed.
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Personal Style

Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.


Accent: Witness everything


Scene: Battlefield


5.86 m
6 m
620.77 kg


Primary Gene
Marble (Banescale)
Marble (Banescale)
Secondary Gene
Blend (Banescale)
Blend (Banescale)
Tertiary Gene
Fans (Banescale)
Fans (Banescale)


Sep 18, 2022
(1 year)



Eye Type

Special Eye Type
Level 7 Banescale
EXP: 3710 / 11881




  • none


________rbgKtws.png » D R A ' T I L A X «
The False God
She Of No Name

"You wanted to see what happened when you gave an innocent the façade of a god. You placed me on a pedestal even you cannot hope to reach. You have brought this fate upon yourself."


Deep within the humbling shadow cast by the alabaster keep rests one not entirely unlike another. She resides within the ancient caverns that form the very foundations of the empire above, content to forever hide herself away and mourn for the ones lost in the hushed whispers of her name - heralded as a god no more, but never free to walk amongst her own as their equal. She rose too high, and now she has fallen too far, and her self-imposed punishment for past atrocities committed is the solitude she forces herself to suffer.

Dra’tilax is not truly a fabled wyvern like the ones Sornieth once saw fly through her skies. She’s a shapeshifter, able to take the form of another if she so wishes, and the wyvern she presents herself to be is simply one of those forms. Her ‘gift’ is a rare one, for the art of such protection is a dwindling practise seldom used by the denizens of today, and her peaceful village was the last major hub for such dragons before it inevitably fell due to the greed of another. Dra’tilax was the only survivor, stolen as a young hatchling and taken beneath the wing of a corrupt emperor whose research into hygienics and institutionalisation had fostered an interest in the higher powers that be, and, through his will, was raised a god amongst her own.

The emperor wished to know what would happen if a mortal was raised unto the pedestal of god; if they would rise up to the powers wrought to them and believe the lies they were being told; if then, by such extension, the emperor himself could retain control over his creation and raise himself above even they. What would happen, he oft wondered, if he served as a reminder for the fabled god’s mortality he had stripped from them, of the fragility of their position in the face of failure, and allowed his very self to be the omen for their inevitable downfall?

Dra’tilax’s entire sense of self shattered. The face staring back at her in mirrors, rivers, glassware, and the ornate golden jewellery she was adorned in taunted her as a stranger, fractured and uncertain, and she struggled to decipher her own thoughts from the constant prayer that echoed through her supposed kingdom’s halls. She wept for the lives lost in wars waged in her name, mourning every life she never touched but had inexplicably taken, and her heart was too gentle to ever suffer the reality of her position. Perhaps if the emperor had chosen another more power-hungry dragon, he would have been able to forge a weapon far greater than she, but Dra’tilax was too soft to wish for bloodshed, and the form she had taken was done only in an effort to keep herself safe.

It was all to keep herself safe.

Eventually, so mote it be, Dra’tilax was heralded as a false god. The rivers that fed her kingdom had begun to run dry, their crops scorched by the harsh sun of the day and burned by the brutal frost of the night, and her people suffered. The emperor, seeing his chance, placed blame entirely upon the god he had raised, feigning his innocence and bolstering his own support, and she was cast out. She fled north, landing within the Imperium’s embrace only through sheer exhaustion, and hid herself away within the uninhabited caverns through fear of a world she felt entirely distanced from.

It’s in those caverns Dra’tilax still remains. She wanders only as a wyvern, using the gargantuan form as a means to keep other dragons away, and only allows a select few anywhere near her den. It took years for the dragoness to hear her name without trembling in terror, for she had only ever heard it in prayer or mocking for a lifetime prior, and even now only those select few she trusts are privy to know it, much less use it. Now, when she is not keeping to herself, Dra’tilax enjoys spending time with her beloved and most trusted, and serves as a scout for the Imperium’s War Duchess when that is asked of her. Her size makes her incredibly imposing, the new apparel she’s adorned in done through pride of her newfound home, and she won’t hesitate to put on a show for any trespassers who mean to cause harm. Yet, despite how far she has come since her arrival, her name upon a stranger’s tongue will never fail to instil within her every iota of fear she felt all those years ago.

It is perhaps ironic that something so small will terrify a creature so large - but mayhaps that is always the way it is meant to be.



» Second Story «


» notes «

- hates being referred to as her name and instead answers to 'Tilly'

- at one point, she lost her understanding of illusion vs. reality and it's no longer apparent to herself, or others, what her true disillusioned state is

- it's just as likely that she is a wyvern who can take the appearance of a veilspun, than it is that she is a veilspun capable of appearing as a wyvern

- in times of great need, Tilly paints the skies blazing shades of amber and copper to protect her home, and the sun hanging low in blood-soaked skies is blotted out by the shadow of her power

- really likes the leaves that Hilda brings her, and the inner sanctum within which Tilly resides is forever in an autumnal state after being blessed by [redacted]

- very skilled flier, able to 'flip' herself when flying in one direction to immediately switch and go back the way she came, which she uses to catch arguably more 'agile' dragons off-guard

Disillusioned state

"So what if all of this is simply a show? My power is that of illusion, is it not? Everything is a facet of the same truth, War Duchess. If they believe me to be a god, then so be it."

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Exalting Dratilax 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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