SoftFrogger » Lair » Ayarvel

Ayarvel

(#80960418)

she / her

Familiar

Renegade Aviar

Energy: 48/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

1.51 m

Wingspan

1 m

Weight

1.69 kg

Genetics

Caribbean
Ribbon

White
Foam

Silver
Capsule

Hatchday

Sep 21, 2022
(1 year)

Breed

Adult
Fae

Eye Type

Plague
Common

Level 4 Fae

EXP: 354 / 4027

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

Biography

A Y A R V E L ^♫
THE RENOUNCED

╭━━━━━━━╮

^STR
_{█████████░░░}
^INT
_{███████████░}
^AGI
_{████████████}
^MAG
_{███████████░}
^CHA
_{███░░░░░░░░░}
^VIT
_{███████░░░░░}

╰━━━━━━━╯

I N V E N T O R Y

╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮
"Let's tango, rattlesnake."
╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯

In the depths of the Wyrmwound, the Plaguebringer stirred her concoction. Blood, bone, sinew, and soul were dropped in as the stench of rotting meat permeated the air. The acid-like green gooey liquid bubbled, smoke rising as slowly, a clawed hand grabbed the edge of the cauldron. As it broke the surface of the mixture, the Plaguebringer stepped back to watch the small dragon climb her way up and out. The dragon, already fully grown, looked up at her maker. The goddess smiled down upon her creation as she knew that this dragon would help bring upon the plague to the rest of Sornieth.

As time passed and Ayarvel matured, her strength and efficiency did with her. The goddess of the plague trained Ayarvel herself, a rare sight in the Scarred Wasteland. And as Ayarvel became more and more powerful, the more the Plaguebringer became more satisfied. This champion would become one of legend. Soon, she would be unstoppable; the Plaguebringer and her right hand dragon. As cold as the bitter wind and as ruthless as death itself. Every day, Ayarvel would train. Every day, Ayarvel would grow in strength.

However, she did have hobbies that she kept to herself; the soldier could not fight forever, as she knew very well. Every once in a while, she would pay herself a visit down to the Sea of a Thousand Currents, where she befriended wild animals and hoarded Water apparel; to her, the ocean called, beckoning her to join them where there was peace. Although she was forever loyal to the Plague Mother, every night before she fell asleep, she thought of the crashing waves and the lull of the sea birds in the sky.

It was on one of those days that would be the downfall of her entire world. On this day, Ayarvel was making her way towards the edge of the Abiding Boneyard and the Sea of a Thousand Currents in which she trained every day. A curious cry was heard close by from a dragon too young to have survived in this hellish desert. Curious, Ayarvel made her way towards the sound when she saw a wildclaw hatchling from some water clan, as she could tell from its eyes; it was no more than a day old. A pang of pity ached at her heart; what was something this young doing in a place this merciless? The gears in her brain turned as she thought; the young wildclaw looked up at her, chirping in an inquisitive manner. She couldn't just leave it here; something in her refused to let her. Perhaps she could put it out of its misery. It would be painless and quick-

Ayarvel found herself flying with the hatchling clutched safely in her claws as she raced towards Wyrmwound, wondering if her maker would take it in, train it, make it like herself. She could train it in her maker's place so that they could be equals. Her wishful thinking was for naught, because as soon as she stepped foot on the rotted ground and the dragon goddess's gaze fell on the two dragons, her eyes lit with a fiery rage. Before Ayarvel could even explain herself, the dragon was wrenched from her claws and thrown to the ground. Ayarvel's eyes widened in horror as the Plaguebringer, in front of her very eyes, finished off the young hatchling. Immediately, she knew that she had made a mistake, one that she could not apologize for. The Plague Mother banished her, hissing and sneering that she was a failure, a mistake of a plague dragon. And, for the first time, as Ayarvel ran, she felt sorrow.

As she passed by the place where she found the late hatchling, she passed another dragon, a dark orange mirror with eyes that resembled hers; filled with hurt, longing, and hatred. They locked eyes, but Ayarvel's hope withered as the mirror's eyes hardened into stone. Without another word, the mirror dragon clawed at Ayarvel, ensuing a fight that lasted almost longer than the young dragon could handle; however, her will to survive outshone her will to give up. She would not let her training from the great goddess herself fail her.

Hours turned into days as the two fought. Ayarvel wondered how this dragon could fight so long without tiring; little did she know, the mirror asked himself the same.

Eventually, the strange dragon seemed to tire as well. As he did, their eyes met, and they seemed to understand one another without saying a word. They were bruised, bloodied from their battle, but more powerful than they were when they started. And that, as they knew very well, was quite becoming of a plague dragon.

The mirror led her back to his den, making a space for her on the other side. He introduced himself as Cassius, and that was that. It was then that Ayarvel knew that her family was the one that she made for herself, not the one that was given to her.

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A R T W O R K

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Exalting Ayarvel 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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