Apophis
(#8873604)
Level 10 Spiral
Familiar
Umbra Wolf
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Fire.
Male Spiral
This dragon is hibernating.
Expand the dragon details section.
Collapse the dragon details section.
Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
2.99 m
Wingspan
3.13 m
Weight
88.37 kg
Genetics
Shadow
Iridescent
Iridescent
Shadow
Shimmer
Shimmer
Shadow
Crackle
Crackle
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 10 Spiral
EXP: 1010 / 27676
STR
5
AGI
9
DEF
5
QCK
8
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
“Oh hello there, are you new here? Come closer, you can help me test this harmless little spell, you'll hardly even feel it.”
   
|
It's wise to be cautious around those who deal in spells and black magic, but that runs doubly true for Apophis. He specializes in curses, an especially tricky branch of magic that requires a devious mind, a bottomless well of malice, and enough headstrong arrogance to ignore the fate of the majority of their predecessors. Those who specialize in curses do not have a history of dying peacefully in bed, surrounded by their adoring children and grandchildren. Large smoldering holes in the ground, salted earth, and poison tend to play larger parts. However, Apophis has been doing fairly well for himself so far, save for one small incident. His allegiance to the clan is loose enough that he'll sell his curses to outclan dragons, and while they never end up in the claws of clan enemies, most of the clan agrees that it's only because he's too selfish to risk his own hide. He certainly never shares the wealth he makes from selling them with the rest of the clan, preferring to deck himself out in lavish jewelry and silks instead. Apophis has one less wing than most spirals, due to a small incident with a curse that went wrong. Every curse woven with the proper viciousness and malice is just waiting for a chance to hurt someone, anyone, and this one chose to backfire on its caster. It neatly severed most of his wing before he could cancel out the spell. The clan heard his screams and brought him to their healer, but even Sicaea, due to the remnants of the curse interfering with her own healing magic, could only heal the damage, and was unable to reattach his severed wing. He's disguised the lack with a swathe of dark silk where the membrane of his wing once was, and a little magic to make it look realistic, but his flight is still a little more awkward and erratic than most spirals'. Perhaps because of this, he has a tendency to test what he calls his “harmless” curses on the other dragons of the lair, or at least those he can get away with doing it to. He tried testing a curse on one of the Queen of Crows' flock once. Just once. Never again. But what he calls harmless isn't necessarily so to the unfortunate victims of his tests, particularly those who are transformed into another creature that's small and edible-looking in a lair full of dragons, or find their scales all rotting and falling off. No amount of “Don't worry, it'll wear off in a day. Probably. Besides, I think this look is an improvement” makes it any more fun. And most of them still remember the ill-fated mishap that lost Apophis his wing, and wonder if one of the “harmless” curses he tests out on them might one day do the same. Because of this, Apophis isn't particularly well-liked, not that he cares. He has his curses to keep him company, and his arrogance which assures him that a genius like himself is too good for them anyway. He has a particularly black sense of humor as well. No one has ever forgotten his first comment after the spell that injured him, hissed through gritted teeth: “Well, I know I said that spell was running on a wing and a prayer...” His cocky, self-centered demeanor doesn't win him many friends, as he has a tendency to talk down to anyone he thinks can't possibly be as clever as he is (which is nearly everyone.) But woe betide anyone he hears talking about him behind his back, since while he doesn't care if he's disliked, anyone he catches insulting him receives one of the nastiest curses he can think of. ~by Mirrorstone |
“What are you screaming for? This is perfect, that's exactly what the curse was meant to do. The countercurse? Why would I waste my time making something like that?”
Short Stories
1.
In the deepest, darkest hour of the night, Apophis expected the eyrie to be silent. Instead, he was surprised to hear the quiet but encompassing sound of hundreds of crows settling for sleep. There was the soft rattling made by fluffing feathers and shifting wings, a chattering sound of bony feet and beaks, the occasional squawk as one crow bumped or trod upon their neighbor. As he crept into the velvety darkness, the occasional pinprick of light glittered from a watchful eye, sensing his presence and taking note to inform their mistress.
He stalked through the rows and rows of perches, looking for just the right subject. His tail slithered softly in the drifts of cast-off feathers that littered the floor. One crow nearby shifted, drawing his attention. It's dark head nestled beneath a wing, sleeping soundly. The other wing, though, was a tattered mess of scars and torn feathers. His own wing stump, shrouded in silk and sorcery, gave a sympathetic twinge.
No, no, that one would never do, he reminded himself. He needed a crow that was hale and healthy. A particularly fat male opened one beady eye and squawked at Apophis, intruding as he was on his sleep, and then squawked again as Apophis snatched him off his perch. The bird struggled in his grip, screeching violently until Apophis dropped the prepared twine noose around the crow's beak and cinched it tight, keeping it's voice contained.
Apophis stole out of the eyrie, clutching his prize tight to his chest. Already the thing was molting, feathers flying down the passageway as he crept back to his workshop.
A whispered word was all it took to release the spelled lock, and Apophis and his purloined treasure were inside. Hastily he stuffed the bird into a cage of blackened silver and onyx, the gemstones set at each junction of wire glowing as their prison-spell was activated. Inside, the crow thrashed, eventually knocking the muzzle from it's beak. But no matter how much it screamed and beat at the bars, Apophis could hear nothing, and he smiled. The curse of silence, the twenty tongues of chattering monkeys he had spelled within the onyx stones, worked beautifully. He reached inside the cage, being careful not to let his prize escape, and yanked a long, glossy black feather from it's wing. The crow squawked it's indignation, but of course, Apophis could not hear it. He turned and laid the feather inside a chalked circle on his table, and began his work. As he coated the feather in layers of magic and wax, he murmured softly to himself -
"They who doth this feather bear
harness wind and tether air
Not bound to earth but flying free
master of the skies shall be."
The feather began to glow softly, a bluish cast contained by the chalk line. He turned to look at the cage and saw that the crow was also illuminated, it's body seemingly frozen. He chuckled to himself and broke the circle, snatching up the feather and gripping it tightly. Experimentally, he flexed his one good wing and the facsimile wing, and was pleased to note that he felt the strength and vigor of a real wing beneath his silks. As his wings flapped, the crow in the cage extended his own and flapped as well. Apophis furled his wings, and the crow did the same. One wing extended, then the other as Apophis tested his curse.
He grinned, the chain attached to his nose ring pulling slightly as his smile grew bigger and bigger. He knew of several clans nearby filled with Snappers, dragons who would pay any sum for the power of flight. The power he now clutched in his claw. Not to mention his own missing wing would be no matter, and the jeers about his erratic flying would end. He laughed, imagining the piles of gold, the endless treasure within his grasp. It was a pity you could only perform the spell once per crow - but then again, he had a steady supply of those -
The door to his workshop blew open with a thunderous crash. He turned, and was assaulted by a rush of darkness and feathers as the entire murder of crows descended on him. He cried out, dropping to the floor and sheltering his face from the maelstrom of whirling beaks and claws. He could see nothing but black.
Then, a sudden calm. The birds continued to surround him in a whirl of feathers, but in the center stood their Queen. The dark Coatl seemed to watch Apophis, her blindfolded eyes still managing to bore into his soul. One crow alighted on her shoulder, it's beak pressed against her ear and seeming to whisper. She nodded to it, and it launched back into the air, diving at Apophis. He shrieked, shielding his eyes as it extended sharp claws. Instead of raking at his face, though, it grasped the long wing feather in his grip and snatched it away. The Queen held out a paw, accepting the feather as her serving-bird rejoined the twisting ranks. She examined the feather for a moment, then turned sightless eyes towards the cage where the stolen crow waited impassively, the blue glow still surrounding it's body. Then, she snapped the feather, bits of down fluttering to the ground.
Immediately, the cage lost its blue cast and the crow within began to beat its wings feverishly against the bars. It squawked and shrieked, the spell of silence broken as well. One bird detached from the flock and yanked open the door, allowing Apophis' captive to fly free.
The Queen turned back to Apophis, her unseeing eyes resting far too long on him. Then, her mouth opened and she released a mighty hiss, spittle flying. Apophis fell back as she snarled, wincing as her saliva splattered against his scales. Then, the Queen turned, her flock descended, and both left his chamber in a roaring rush.
by Hatterlet
He stalked through the rows and rows of perches, looking for just the right subject. His tail slithered softly in the drifts of cast-off feathers that littered the floor. One crow nearby shifted, drawing his attention. It's dark head nestled beneath a wing, sleeping soundly. The other wing, though, was a tattered mess of scars and torn feathers. His own wing stump, shrouded in silk and sorcery, gave a sympathetic twinge.
No, no, that one would never do, he reminded himself. He needed a crow that was hale and healthy. A particularly fat male opened one beady eye and squawked at Apophis, intruding as he was on his sleep, and then squawked again as Apophis snatched him off his perch. The bird struggled in his grip, screeching violently until Apophis dropped the prepared twine noose around the crow's beak and cinched it tight, keeping it's voice contained.
Apophis stole out of the eyrie, clutching his prize tight to his chest. Already the thing was molting, feathers flying down the passageway as he crept back to his workshop.
A whispered word was all it took to release the spelled lock, and Apophis and his purloined treasure were inside. Hastily he stuffed the bird into a cage of blackened silver and onyx, the gemstones set at each junction of wire glowing as their prison-spell was activated. Inside, the crow thrashed, eventually knocking the muzzle from it's beak. But no matter how much it screamed and beat at the bars, Apophis could hear nothing, and he smiled. The curse of silence, the twenty tongues of chattering monkeys he had spelled within the onyx stones, worked beautifully. He reached inside the cage, being careful not to let his prize escape, and yanked a long, glossy black feather from it's wing. The crow squawked it's indignation, but of course, Apophis could not hear it. He turned and laid the feather inside a chalked circle on his table, and began his work. As he coated the feather in layers of magic and wax, he murmured softly to himself -
"They who doth this feather bear
harness wind and tether air
Not bound to earth but flying free
master of the skies shall be."
The feather began to glow softly, a bluish cast contained by the chalk line. He turned to look at the cage and saw that the crow was also illuminated, it's body seemingly frozen. He chuckled to himself and broke the circle, snatching up the feather and gripping it tightly. Experimentally, he flexed his one good wing and the facsimile wing, and was pleased to note that he felt the strength and vigor of a real wing beneath his silks. As his wings flapped, the crow in the cage extended his own and flapped as well. Apophis furled his wings, and the crow did the same. One wing extended, then the other as Apophis tested his curse.
He grinned, the chain attached to his nose ring pulling slightly as his smile grew bigger and bigger. He knew of several clans nearby filled with Snappers, dragons who would pay any sum for the power of flight. The power he now clutched in his claw. Not to mention his own missing wing would be no matter, and the jeers about his erratic flying would end. He laughed, imagining the piles of gold, the endless treasure within his grasp. It was a pity you could only perform the spell once per crow - but then again, he had a steady supply of those -
The door to his workshop blew open with a thunderous crash. He turned, and was assaulted by a rush of darkness and feathers as the entire murder of crows descended on him. He cried out, dropping to the floor and sheltering his face from the maelstrom of whirling beaks and claws. He could see nothing but black.
Then, a sudden calm. The birds continued to surround him in a whirl of feathers, but in the center stood their Queen. The dark Coatl seemed to watch Apophis, her blindfolded eyes still managing to bore into his soul. One crow alighted on her shoulder, it's beak pressed against her ear and seeming to whisper. She nodded to it, and it launched back into the air, diving at Apophis. He shrieked, shielding his eyes as it extended sharp claws. Instead of raking at his face, though, it grasped the long wing feather in his grip and snatched it away. The Queen held out a paw, accepting the feather as her serving-bird rejoined the twisting ranks. She examined the feather for a moment, then turned sightless eyes towards the cage where the stolen crow waited impassively, the blue glow still surrounding it's body. Then, she snapped the feather, bits of down fluttering to the ground.
Immediately, the cage lost its blue cast and the crow within began to beat its wings feverishly against the bars. It squawked and shrieked, the spell of silence broken as well. One bird detached from the flock and yanked open the door, allowing Apophis' captive to fly free.
The Queen turned back to Apophis, her unseeing eyes resting far too long on him. Then, her mouth opened and she released a mighty hiss, spittle flying. Apophis fell back as she snarled, wincing as her saliva splattered against his scales. Then, the Queen turned, her flock descended, and both left his chamber in a roaring rush.
by Hatterlet
by Rowan
by Anemia
by Keyaroscuro
by xape
by Nadki
by Erujayy
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
Feed this dragon Insects.
Feed this dragon Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
You can share this dragon on the forums by either copying the browser URL manually, or using bbcode!
Exalting Apophis to the service of the Flamecaller will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
Do you wish to continue?
- Names must be longer than 2 characters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.