secretadmirer » Lair » Rodhrath

Rodhrath

(#82745105)

O'GREAT MOTHER

Familiar

Carmine Serthis

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

5.02 m

Wingspan

7.96 m

Weight

803.28 kg

Genetics

Hatchday

Dec 16, 2022
(1 year)

Breed

Adult
Banescale

Eye Type

Plague
Common

Level 1 Banescale

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

none

Biography

RODHRATH

the broodmother

PRONOUNS
she/her

ORIENTATION
bisexual

OCCUPATION
matriarch/chief

ALIGNMENT
neutral evil

"The Flame could eat all it wanted, but it could never weed out those who survived and yielded not to its destruction, but to the eternal change the Plague offered—and just as I yielded to the Plague, so will everything else."

Known as the Broodmother to her followers, Rodhrath is an ambitious, albeit aging Banescale hailing from a long line of ancient dergs. The details of her life before her rise to power are kept away from most of her underlings, but her closest companion, Ul'losh, can recall the very beginnings of their makeshift family.

She oversees every function of the clan's everyday life—from distributing rations to encouraging trainers and strategizing battle. She also dictates who may remain under her safety and who will be cast into the Wyrmwound. Thus, her method of rule is a strict meritocracy, favoring loyalty and skill above all else. Those who fail to demonstrate potential or otherwise displease her are bound to face consequences.

Those she sees as useful, however, are treated with reverence and praise.

"O'great mother, survivor of the wastes, tell your children the story of our conquest—the story of our mission to spread the beautiful Contagion."

It's a strong, clear voice that cuts through the hisses and squeaks of the freshly-hatched; neither old enough to gift the world with the Plaguebringer's blessing nor young enough to assume no responsibilities.

Atop her throne, the matriarch sits and surveys the new litter. They are strong. Hardened by the rot and decay around them, all of them—regardless of their species—will grow to be apt, proud warriors for Her effort. A single, approving nod from the drake snuffs the squeaks like a claw between flame, leaving the carved lair eerily quiet. Nary a sound escapes, except from the soft drip, drip of pulsating, calcified flesh.

"Tell me, Nareena… what kills the Plague?" the matriarch asks, her head lowering to leer over the governess.

"Fire, o'great mother."

"Yes. Fire, in theory, kills the Plague. It is the ultimate cleanser—a primordial gift from the Flamecaller that is wielded both by dragonkind and the beasts," she speaks. Glittering, youthful eyes widen with some sort of fear. Amused by the gaping maws and shuddering gasps, the mother clicks her tongue.

"Indeed, my children. Fire is the cure. The cycle of decay and growth is a never-ending dance, but fire brings that all to a halt. It stops not just growth—consuming forests and meadows in its ravenous pursuit—but decay. All falls to the hand of the Flamecaller."

One brave hatchling pipes up amidst his siblings, his voice just barely above a murmur, "If fire stops the Plague, mother, then why hasn't our home been cleansed?"

The hushed brood erupts into whispers and squeaks. Gasps, even.

It is ceased by a mighty crack of the matriarch's tail—charred bones rapping against the flesh throne. Just as before, there is silence. All eyes are turned to the mother.

"Nareena?" she calls, rising from her throne.

"Yes, o'great mother?"

"Do you know why tonight is the night I tell this story to the hatchlings?"

"Because it was the night you were given strength, venerable mother. It was the night the Flamecaller chose to reap you back into the ashes from whence you came," Nareena replies with a proud, admiring bob of her maned head. "It was the night the Plaguebringer blessed you and showed you the truth of Her nature."

"What does that mean?" the same hatchling questions, emboldened. A sharp glare from Nareena clips his sentence, but the matriarch raises a clawed wing to convey her assent. Thus, Nareena's gaze veers away, much to the child's relief.

One step down. The flesh of the platform squelches beneath her feet, shifting away from the site of impact. Another step, followed by the same reaction. She finally reaches the floor of the lair and scoops the tiny, impish hatchling into a hind leg. Gentle.

The governess's eyes widen some at such a sight, though she makes no comment as her matriarch continues, "It means that my blood is not of yours, little one."

"Long, long ago, my foremothers and forefathers were born of the flame deep within the earth. While my ancestors disappeared and my kind fell into obscurity, the world changed. The tides rose and fall. The earth moved. The fire beckoned. The air shifted. Forth came the light and dark, forth came Her venerable Plague and the Behemoth."

"And when it was all said and done, we awakened. We were thrust into a new world. No hymns to guide us, no deities to bind us. The old had since become little more than churches and tales—no more physical than the stones such stories were etched into."

A deep breath. She sets the hatchling down unto the lair's floor, pacing back up the steps to the throne.

"My blood is not of yours. You were born and attuned to the Plague, I was born and attuned to the Flame."

"Then why are you the matriarch if you're not our mother?" the hatchling hisses. This time, a glare from Nareena does little more than make him offer a snarl. While the insolence is certainly unacceptable, the great mother appreciates the bite.

Perhaps he will serve the Plaguebringer well when it is time to offer exaltations.

"Because, despite my nature, I became stronger under the Plague. The cure, the all-consuming, could not rid the Plague as all once thought. Nay, whatever survived grew. Whatever survived thrived with a vigor not even the Gladekeeper could rival. The Flame could eat all it wanted, but it could never weed out those who survived and yielded not to its destruction, but to the eternal change the Plague offered—and just as I yielded to the Plague, so will everything else."

"I choose this night to tell this story to you, o'brood, in hopes that you see the Plague prevails over all. It will transform you as it transformed me. I may not be your mother in way of blood, but I will always be your mother in way of guidance. And She has called upon me to guide you to glory, to yield to the Contagion and become stronger—to make everything and everyone stronger."

"Our conquest will be one of benevolence, my children. All of you will grow under my wing and become far better than you ever knew you were capable of becoming. All of you will see how the Plague transforms all, how Her beautiful Contagion allows us to ascend beyond the natural order."

A deafening silence sweeps over the lair. Those innocent eyes are alight with a newfound pride, an excitement for what the future may hold. Heads are raised to pay attention to the matriarch—wings spread wide and backlit by the eerie green glow of a pustule light above.

Only one gaze sits rife with discontent.

It doesn't take long for that gaze to catch the ambitious eyes of the matriarch. And even as the lair stirs yet once more with whispers and squeaks and murmurs from all the gathered hatchlings, mother's stare remains. Until, of course, the perpetrator—Nareena—looks away.

As the younger derg stalks off to her own quarters, the barest of whispers escapes her maw,

"O'great mother, curse the inferno that tried to pull you from Her divine plan, I ask you—do not forsake us. Do not lead us into needless bloodshed. Do not let our brothers and sisters die for a worthless cause."

UL'LOSH | friend/guard
The only derg close enough to Rodhrath to call her a friend. Stoic as she is, she seems fond of them.

HAESHI | plagueseer/guard
A capable derg with a deep tether to the Plague. He's earned Rodhrath's trust with his uncanny loyalty to the clan's cause.

NAREENA | clan governess
A doting derg who serves as the clan's governess. Her loyalty is dubious, but Rodhrath holds onto her for her remarkable skills.

CORIEN | clan warden
The clan's dedicated pit-warden and de facto executioner. Much like Haeshi, he is utterly loyal to the clan's cause, but seems rather ambivalent regarding anything else.

snailie

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Exalting Rodhrath 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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