Survivor
(#84015786)
Level 1 Veilspun
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 16/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Female Veilspun
This dragon is an ancient breed.
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Personal Style
Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
0.39 m
Wingspan
0.62 m
Weight
1.31 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Fade (Veilspun)
Fade (Veilspun)
Ginger
Constellation (Veilspun)
Constellation (Veilspun)
Oilslick
Flecks (Veilspun)
Flecks (Veilspun)
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Veilspun
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
5
AGI
6
DEF
5
QCK
8
INT
8
VIT
5
MND
8
Biography
| ___ |
Although she was born in Shadow, Survivor and her sister, Centurion, live with Plague's mindset of strength and perseverance. They travelled to Plague for a while, but it wasn't a friendly place for small, lone Veilspun. When they were hunted by a pack of much larger dragons, a member of this clan who happened to be on a mission in the area saw the predicament and saved the sisters. They quickly found that the clan shared the same militaristic, tough-minded ideology. Therefore, when the clanmate offered to recruit them, she and her sister agreed immediately. | ___ |
Survivor's feet bounded across the ground, and her wings blurred by speed. The fleshy earth of Plague swept beneath her feet like a flowing river as she ran. "Go," she grunted to her sister, Centurion. They had to keep going.
The giant pack of Mirrors yipped and snarled behind them, panting as they chased after them. The lizard-dogs' tongues lolled out of their mouths as they grinned, thrilled by the hunt. Wings and legs burning, Survivor pushed herself to fly faster, boosting her flight by kicking off the ground. She could feel the breath of one of the dragons on her tail, and she knew that the moment she slowed down, the talons of that Mirror would find their place in her back.
A hissing snarl broke out behind her, and she instinctively leapt diagonally away. Clawed feet connected with the ground where she'd just been, and she felt the rush of air from their impact. The dragons were too close. The Veilspuns would be prey soon.
"What's the plan?" Centurion muttered, her quiet voice barely reaching Survivor's ears even though they ran side by side. They had practiced conversing in low pitches without moving their mouths, and the habit was hard to break.
Centurion's breath came in hard gusts. Only then did Survivor realize how drained she herself felt, how much her lungs burned from running. "Just keep going," she gritted out, scanning the ground for places to hide. There were none. Centurion let out a jagged sigh in response but continued to fly.
With a burst of speed, one of the Mirrors lunged forward and clamped its massive teeth into Centurion's side. It skidded to a halt, growling triumphantly as Centurion roared in pain.
"Centi!" Survivor screeched, raking her claws near the attacker's eye. A vicious growl ripped from Centurion's throat, and she dug her claws into the beast's bare inner lip. Howling, it threw her off and jumped away. Centurion stumbled, bleeding and struggling to move, and Survivor saw the wolf-dragons start to circle up around her. Diving into the fray, she gripped Centurion's arm and tried to pull her along.
"Back off!" a deep, massive voice boomed a little ahead. A few of the Mirrors yipped and jumped away from the Veilspuns, turning flighty because a bigger enemy had arrived.
Centurion collapsed, gasping, her teeth clenched, claws dug into the ground. The wound was too deep.
She was going to die.
"Help!" Survivor yelled towards the booming voice, her voice raspy. The Mirrors lunged tentatively toward her, and she bristled and hissed viciously at them, claws bared. "Leave us be. Leave us," she snarled at them. Survivor glanced back down at Centurion to see that the Veilspun was unnaturally limp and looked too much like a carcass for Survivor's comfort. Her breathing was faulty and broken. "Breathe. Don't you die on me," Survivor murmured to her.
Heavy approaching footsteps made the ground rumble, and a deep growl emanated from the newcomer. The Mirrors whimpered, then turned tail and galloped away when they realized the newcomer wouldn't leave them alone. Survivor looked up to see a towering, black Guardian padding towards them. Its feet were bigger than she and Centurion combined.
"I will heal her," the Guardian murmured to Survivor, then gently rested his giant talons over Centurion's side. The little dragon's sputtering breathing sped with fear, then fell back into a slow, pained, weak rhythm.
"I am Satoshi," the Guardian said in his loud but calm voice. "Who are you two?"
"I'm Survivor. This is Centurion."
"Is there a reason you Shadow dragons are alone in the Abiding Boneyard?"
"I could ask you the same question," Survivor replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Our clan's old base used to be out here. I was looking for it so I could draw it into our lorebooks."
"Oh. We haven't found a clan."
Satoshi inhaled deeply, summoning more Breath for his healing magic as he mended Centurion's injuries. "What happened to your birth clan?"
"Let's just say that Shadow and us don't get along."
Centurion stirred, looking healthier. The wounds were closing.
"You two sound like a couple of tough warrior wannabes."
Survivor glared at him.
"I'm from Nature," Satoshi explained when he saw her expression. "We have a corps there. Do you want to come with me? You'd be safer, and we can train you."
"A corps? You mean a clan?"
"It's more military-based than most Nature clans. I think you'd like it."
Finally healed, Centurion stood. "Thank you," she said to Satoshi, dipping her head respectfully. Then, sharing a glance with Survivor, she added, "And I think that sounds like a good idea."
Survivor nodded. "We can just leave if we don't like it. So, why not?"
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Exalting Survivor to the service of the Gladekeeper 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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