Darkwood
(#84511170)
Life Finds a Way [They/Them]
Murk
Swamp Wolf
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 49/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Female Pearlcatcher
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.56 m
Wingspan
4.92 m
Weight
520.64 kg
Genetics
Umber
Savannah
Savannah
Thicket
Eel
Eel
Emerald
Ghost
Ghost
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Pearlcatcher
Max Level
STR
133
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
40
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
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Main - Darkwood
dark sclera, not priority elim pain... lvl 25 6/18/23 admittedly, the lore is done on a google doc problem: i have a couple words to replace |
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Darkwood; Mute, Serious | "..." One of the calmest figures in Mistville, Darkwood is known for their silence, as well as their capability to defend oneself and others. Although they are incapable of speech by normal means, they commune through scrolls and often write to the other dragons of Mistville. They're never seen without their armet. |
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As the mist blocks their vision, they feel nothing but pain. For a few seconds, everything they can see is red- but then it all fades away, darkness consuming their sight. The world is black for hours, as they sit, motionless. They swear they're conscious, they swear they aren't dead, they can't be. They won't be. They ache, oh they ache, but they can feel themselves waking up. They slowly begin to rise, reaching out towards their armet, vision clouded. They cough, taking a few minutes to just...stand. They draw an arm across their eyes, hoping to clear their vision a little bit. It sort-of helps. They can see...more clearly, but they note now that they're surrounded by a thick mist. They finally grab their armet, and adjust it slightly, before gingerly setting it onto their head. They shake themselves out, some rotted leaves falling off them and onto the soft, moist grass below. |
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They open their maw to speak, but no noise comes out- odd, but they don't really mind. They start to brush off the dust on their kilt, and notice that they're missing their broadsword. They go quiet. Ah...they need that. They start to move, looking around the area for this sword of theirs. They can't see it. That's agitating. They make an attempt to say something aloud, only to feel a searing pain. They quickly give up on the thought, instead deciding to think about both where it could be, and why it wasn't sheathed. Admittedly, they're not sure what- or who, they suppose- may've knocked them out cold. After some scrounging around, they finally find their sword. It's been...dragged into some bushes? They're not sure why, but they go ahead and slide it back into its sheath. They then look around again, hoping to get some semblance of where they are, but the mist doesn't seem fond of the idea. |
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Eventually giving up on their wishes to know their location, they begin to aimlessly wander. They keep an arm on the hilt of their sword at all times, just incase they're attacked by...well, whatever attacked them before this. They look around as best they can, and snap their head towards any sound or movement. At some point, though, the sounds become too...rhythmic. They start to follow the all-too familiar sounds, unsheathing their sword as they start tracking. It is a long, long tracking session, but at some point, they find that the mist is beginning to clear up. It's only really enough for them to see three meters infront of their face, but that's better than what it had been previously. Infact, everything seems to start lightening up...there's even a path for them to follow, which the noise is continuing down. Flicking their tail, they continue tracking the noise, which is really starting to become all too suspicious... They continue down this pathway, this little road, and they begin to see signs. The mist becomes even clearer, but they can tell it won't clear up fully. It is at this point, that they catch a glimpse of what they are following. It's a tail, tipped in fur- are they following a dragon...? They suppose that it's possible, and trail after the noise, if more cautiously. As the area becomes clearer, as the mist lightens, they finally see a sign. They sheath their sword as they approach it. Neatly painted onto its surface, is a single name: 'Mistville.' They look over it, silent, before hearing the sounds of ringing bells. They snap their head towards the noise. They grab the hilt of their sword, unsheathing it, before adopting a more defensive pose. When the sound fades, they slowly sheath their sword, and start walking down the path. Mistville sounds like a town name, after-all. Perhaps following it will get them out the mist, now that it's all too silent. After time, so much time, they're not sure just how much- they see lights. Lanterns. Lanterns. For a couple seconds, they stare on in awe. It is then that they see movement, and immediately start watching it, standing silent. It's definitely a dragon, but they can't be sure that they'll be friendly. Actually, the more they look around, the more dragons they see. They must've been following one of them initially...but they're not sure which. Just how many skydancers are here? They must've been following one of them...but which? Who?? Why are there so many?? They genuinely question this as they stand, staring into the maw of the town. The jaw of their armet rests slightly agape, as they just...stare. Minutes flick by as they go unnoticed, before a dragon finally turns in their direction and stops dead in their tracks. The two stare at each other for a long moment. They grab the hilt of their sword again, as the dragon begins to walk towards them. The expression on the dragon's face is...unusual. They look horrified. Petrified? No, not petrified, but definitely horrified. The dragon approaches them slowly- it's a...well, not a skydancer. Wildclaw? It looks like a wildclaw, yes, that looks to be right. That makes sense, they're probably in nature territory. Or, at least, they'd be quite surprised if they weren't. Getting a better look at the wildclaw, they can see that they're decorated in garlands with large flowers, thick clouds of pollen drifting around them. They might just sneeze from the sight. The wildclaw is, unsurprisingly, armed with a weapon that they don't quite recognize. Perched on one of the wildclaw's horns is a peace dove, and a ferret is sitting on the wildclaw's shoulder, looking at them. It's a little bit ominous, admittedly. |
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Exalting Darkwood 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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