Rook
(#89326394)
Dreameater | She/Her
Familiar
Daffodil of Mistral
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Energy: 47/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
19.3 m
Wingspan
19.28 m
Weight
6261.67 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Metallic
Metallic
Obsidian
Bee
Bee
Platinum
Crackle
Crackle
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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 R O O K 
BARGHEST LORE AND LINEAGE PROJECT
GENERATION II BLACKMORE | MORGANA’S LINE 
"Quote"
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Born into the innate darkness, of shadow beneath deep soil and hollow graveyards, one can hear the soft singing of a creature just beyond the forest lining of the trees. Nothing more then a beautiful shade that weaves two-and-fro between harsh brambles and heavy branches. A large towering beast, a wolf made of smoke and dread alike. It is hard to tell if she truly has ever had a name. The locals of the area merely referred to the beast as "Rook", for the rumors say she calls home to a ruined, fallen castle that lies just beyond the threshold between the domain of Light and Shadow. Perhaps kings, queens, had called such a place home, but it has now long since overgrown with rot, moss and trailing ivy that curves up it's broken walls. A wrathful creature as she is beguiling, and most warn newcomers and adventurers to never near the dark woods, for only an end unknown is what lies in their path. Yet, how could someone resist such gentle whispers from such a hauntingly grand creature? For least, the final gift she gives them, is the sweetest of swan songs.
—
Kiiluri never claimed to be a smart woman. Perhaps there were much better ways to die then this, wandering off into the middle of nowhere, of some vague chitchat of the beast in the woods. Nothing more then silly rumors, a child's tale a mother told to her hatchling. Yet the dread in the pits of her stomach still remained, unwavering and unmoving in it's plight to make the young Wildclaw as horrible as possible. She would admit, she was no seasoned warrior, but she had deemed herself no coward either. She needed to prove her worth, that she was good, good with a sword, good at her job. No one would hire a monster hunter scared of monsters after all; it'd be a bloody joke. She would swallow her fears and doubts and without a second forward, the sound of her feet scrapping against the cold dirt floor as she moved. It was almost peaceful at first, almost eerie so, the sound of nothing but the wildlife that called the place home, and the occasional sound of her foolishly snapping a branch or what-have-you. What starts off as day, easily becomes a sunset, and then before she knows it; night. And yet nothing seems to stir, it seems only her paranoia is her worst enemy here. And then the fog becomes to appear, a fine thick mist that creeps in at a pace that Kiiluri doesn't notice fast enough before it's two late. Well, she's truly lost now. The night is not welcoming, and the Wildclaw swears she can hear the wind laugh, or the trees behind her thrash and bend with malicious intent, and all she can do is keep walking and hope. Sleep begins to eventually wear on her, and she can feel her bones aching from what feels like after walking an eternity. and it is then, the whispering begins to take place, the voice of a young woman, the voice of something with power. She follows, perhaps a stupid foolish move, but the dragon is tired, and the sweet sound of whatever lies beneath the trees calls to her, she cannot help but follow. She must. She has two. For what more beauty is there to find then in the darkness of the night itself?
Layout and artwork by awaicu
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Exalting Rook to the service of the Arcanist 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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