Mincho
(#8947900)
Level 5 Nocturne
Familiar
Snarling Mimic
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 47/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Male Nocturne
Expand the dragon details section.
Collapse the dragon details section.
Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.11 m
Wingspan
7.36 m
Weight
551.16 kg
Genetics
White
Basic
Basic
Jade
Basic
Basic
Chocolate
Smoke
Smoke
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Nocturne
EXP: 417 / 5545
STR
25
AGI
9
DEF
7
QCK
15
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
 Puppy Love |
Mincho
Researcher
Hatched from an egg that was found inside a strange chest, Mincho grew up with one other dragon of his species inside a very warm and caring environment. He was naturally curious about the world he lived in and, of course, grew to have the same gentleness that those in his clan possess. |
|
Adventures in Plague Land | a dating sim
After much deliberation (and Hilo's help), the matriarch finally agreed to give me permission to visit our allied Plague Clan, whose services we recently hired to train our fighters. I've always wanted to explore what lay beyond the green walls of my labyrinthian home, and I found myself both anxious and excited to experience the Scarred Wastelands firsthand--I have heard so many things about it, though not necessarily good things... The first hint of what I was about to encounter came in the form of a lady Guardian, who stalked into the lair like a wild cat hunting her prey. She was much smaller in size than both Torval and Semry, yet her movements exuded an air of menace and her eyes were wild. I wondered if everyone in the Scarred Wastelands were just as frightening.
I confided my worries in Karopi, whose only advice was to blend in with the Plague clan by adopting their practices. I took her advice to heart and aimed to be as open-minded as possible. Despite this, I was still nervous at the hour of my departure. With my pack of sundries and the gifts of gold for Ragnar's coffers, I flew alongside Torval to the outskirts of the Scarred Wasteland. I admittedly became tired halfway through and Torval had to let me rest on her head as we crossed the strip of sea that separated our island from the continent. When we reached the crossroad where the Scarred Wastelands intersected with Dragonhome and the Tangled Wood, there was another Guardian waiting for us. She greeted Torval like an old friend and peered at me curiously when Torval introduced me. Although she didn't exude the same air of menace that our visitor did, she still made me wary. Perhaps it was the reddish hue of her eyes or the strange armor she wore that pulsed as if it were alive. Nonetheless, I felt stricken with panic when Torval had to go and I had to nuzzle against her for a while before I felt calm enough to release her. When she did go, the red-eyed Guardian--Astrid--instructed me to rest in the cradle between her wings and to hang on tight. As soon as we were airborne, I found out why. Unlike Torval, who flew carefully and steadily high above the clouds, Astrid kept low to the ground, zigzagging across the terrain in precise motions and swerving to avoid obstacles with the sort of speed that Torval would most likely consider reckless. Despite all odds, we reached their lair safely and well before sunset.
I had kept my eyes shut most of the way, weary from the journey, so when I opened them again, I thought at first that we must have been swallowed up by some beast. The lair, as it turned out, was composed of the skeletal remains of some massive creature. It was half melted into a rocky obsidian outcropping on one side and infused with yellowish desert glass on the other, creating the strange sensation of being stuck in twilight. From the ground, I could see cave entrances dotting the obsidian mountain, but there were holes in the bones too, and I could see vague silhouettes moving through the milky glass. It seemed so strange to live in another creature's remains. But also somewhat cool.
We must have arrived at suppertime because I could heard loud munching and the wet sounds of flesh being torn apart. I was feeling rather hungry myself, so I followed Astrid to what must have been their dining area. I didn't quite expect the mess I saw. They were fighting over food, though from what I could see there was more than enough for everyone. Two mirrors, in particular, were playing tug-of-war with a strip of meat, rolling on the floor and clawing at each other as they struggled for it. There were two Guardians arguing over who got to feed the Spiral sleepily curled up between them. Near the piles of fish and eels, there were two male Coatls butting heads over a stingray. There seemed nothing playful about it until the smaller one began licking the other and the fight slowly devolved into a...not-fight. Hastily looking away, I realized that Astrid had gone and that I was alone, slowly garnering the attention of the gathered bunch.
I'd never felt so embarrassed as I did then, standing in the middle of supper with a group of strangers blatantly gawking me. I suppose that was what moved me to dive for cover. A white Guardian entered the hall as I did, and for a fleeting moment, I thought it was Semry, and so I dove between his legs and hid beneath him.
"Well, well, and who is this?" a voice rumbled above me. And that was how I made my first impression on the dragon they called Ragnar.
--
Later, in the safety of Ragnar's den and away from everyone's prying eyes, I presented Torval's gifts of gold and gave a bow as I was instructed. I introduced myself, stated the reason for my stay, and waited patiently as Ragnar toyed with a baby goat--of which there were many, all plump and unbearably juicy-looking as they scampered about the room.
"Do you want one?" Ragnar asked, his voice a lovely timbre that I someday wished to mimic.
I jumped to attention and considered the offer. I still hadn't eaten and was rather famished at that point. But then Ragnar grinned--and what pointy teeth he has--as he petted a particularly fat goat. "You can have this one," he said. "You can't eat it though." At my questioning look, he gestured around us. "They're my pets, you see. Astrid keeps telling me that it isn't practical to hoard food as pets, especially since they take sick so easily and die quickly, but look at them. They're positively adorable. And I do so love adorable things." He looked at me as he said this and I stammered out some inane reply about my favorite food being sparrows.
A Spiral chose that moment to slither in--dark as charcoal, with a hood that covered his face. He talked to Ragnar in quiet but urgent tones. Ragnar's expression grew thunderous as he listened to his message, and he eventually rose, so tense that the muscles of his flank quivered. He took no notice of the baby goats scampering away in fright. The Spiral gathered the gold, and motioned for me to follow.
"Goodbye, little one," was the last I heard before I was ushered out.
--
The Spiral did not lead me anywhere. We stopped in a cavernous hall, where he took stock of me, shaded face giving nothing away. After some time, he turned his back on me and simply left, slithering away and turning the corner too fast for me to follow.
"H-hey!" I cried, running after him as panic settled heavily in the pit of my empty stomach. I wandered awhile, slowly growing more and more upset, as I called out for someone. I gave a wail when I bumped into something in the gloom, thinking I was to die in some forgotten corner of an obsidian mountain.
It turned out to be a massive Guardian with veins of aqua decorating his dark skin, hidden beneath his armor but visible in his exposed wings. "Oh dear," he said, stepping back with a sheepish smile directed at me. "I'm awfully sorry about that," he said. "Honestly, I've been telling them that these halls are too dark. Obsidian swallows up all the light and we could certainly use a lamp or two." He had such a gentle and disarming manner that I found myself tentatively smiling back.
"It wasn't your fault at all," I answered, hopping closer. "It's just that I'm awfully lost, and the Spiral left me here, and I'm not quite sure where I'm supposed to go now, and this lair is so awfully large and dark and--" To my horror, I found my voice cracking as I slowly dissolved into tears. I was so embarrassed that I had unconsciously pulled my wings up to cover my head.
I could hear the Guardian making fretting noises as he attempted to comfort me but I could not stop crying.
Another voice soon added to the din--distinctly monotonous and female. "What have you done now?" she--whoever she was--asked.
"I found this poor hatchling here. He says he was lost and then he began crying...I don't know what to do." The Guardian sounded so worried and yet perfectly calm that I slowly calmed down as well.
I lowered my wings, petulantly mumbling, "I'm not a hatchling."
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a Fae hovering over the Guardian's shoulder. She sniffed haughtily, said, "Let's go, Stigr," and disappeared down a long corridor.
"But we can't just leave him," the Guardian, Stigr, gently protested. I didn't expect the Fae to return, but she did, though reluctantly. She flopped on his shoulder, wedging herself between the spikes of his armor, and stared down at me coolly.
I walked beside Stigr, chatting idly, until we reached the top of the mountain, where several dragons were stationed. Everyone looked like they were off to go to war, and when I said this out loud, Stigr's smile turned grim.
"Foolish child," the Fae murmured. "Everyday is a battle in this God-forsaken land. The moment you let your guard down, you just might become another casualty."
A distinctly cheerful voice broke through my stricken thoughts and I turned to see a blood-flecked Mirror approaching us. His hood was pulled low around his neck, torn where his armor must have snagged it, and he had a disarming smile. Another Mirror with bare crystal skin the color of flesh approached us; he had a lithe, toned body that made me squirm with jealousy, and feathered wings dyed crimson.
"Hello," I greeted, reciting my usual introduction.
"Aha, so you're the visitor from Mother Nature, eh?" the armored Mirror said, circling me.
"He was at dinner," the crystal one noted, nudging his companion. "Except you were too busy play fighting with Naos to notice." He flashed me a winning smile, the whites of his eyes unblinking.
The armored Mirror huffed in response. "That upstart knew I had a scouting shift right after dinner, and he still tried to steal my meal."
"What did you find?" Stigr asked, cutting into the conversation. At his brisk tone, the mood shifted. It was though everyone's guard suddenly came up.
The armored Mirror grimly smiled. "Sann probably has more to say than I do." He glanced at me, pointed at a cluster of Coatls, and said, "Go find Duane. He's the nice one. He should be able to show you where Ragnar wants you to stay for the duration of your visit." The dismissive tone of his voice made me balk, so I said my goodbyes and approached the Coatls.
--
As I scampered over to the gathered Coatls, they all turned to look at me. I clumsily stopped a foot away, nervously worrying the tip of my tail, until one of them stepped forward and accosted me with a steely red-eyed stare. There was something vaguely familiar about his features. He was handsome, that I can safety say. He was lithe and well-proportioned, resplendent in tarnished armor and mechanized wings that followed his movements fluidly. But there was something about him that seemed untamed, sensual, and dangerous. His stare made my blood curdle.
Suddenly, he was pushed aside by another Coatl, this one equally dark or perhaps a shade lighter, but definitely taller. He wore a leather vest with brass fastenings and small buttons that matched the electric blue of his eyes. Perhaps most notable of all, his magic was visible in streaks of ever-shifting light that ran back and forth along his midsection up to his throat. It looked like electricity coursing through his body. He introduced himself as Duane and apologized for the behavior of his friend, Cerin, who stood to the side, looking angrier and angrier by the minute.
"I don't mean to interrupt," I stuttered fearfully, flashing nervous glances at the fellow named Cerin, "but the armored Mirror instructed me to find you."
"Of course," Duane replied kindly. "I assume I'm to show you to your temporary den?" he asked, head cocked.
"I believe so," I replied, noticing how Duane puffed out his wings to block Cerin from view.
"Do follow me," Duane requested, smiling reassuringly as he turned around.
Cerin was gone from his side. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him take to the skies with another dark Coatl, similarly armed and with a crown of antlers upon her head. His sister perhaps? They made a striking pair against the backdrop of the clear sky.
When I turned my head, I saw Duane looking in the same direction, though with a wistful cast to his eyes.
"Do you know where they are going?" I asked curiously.
Duane simply shook his head with an oddly sad smile and led me away, back into the dark tunnels.
--
After much deliberation (and Hilo's help), the matriarch finally agreed to give me permission to visit our allied Plague Clan, whose services we recently hired to train our fighters. I've always wanted to explore what lay beyond the green walls of my labyrinthian home, and I found myself both anxious and excited to experience the Scarred Wastelands firsthand--I have heard so many things about it, though not necessarily good things... The first hint of what I was about to encounter came in the form of a lady Guardian, who stalked into the lair like a wild cat hunting her prey. She was much smaller in size than both Torval and Semry, yet her movements exuded an air of menace and her eyes were wild. I wondered if everyone in the Scarred Wastelands were just as frightening.
I confided my worries in Karopi, whose only advice was to blend in with the Plague clan by adopting their practices. I took her advice to heart and aimed to be as open-minded as possible. Despite this, I was still nervous at the hour of my departure. With my pack of sundries and the gifts of gold for Ragnar's coffers, I flew alongside Torval to the outskirts of the Scarred Wasteland. I admittedly became tired halfway through and Torval had to let me rest on her head as we crossed the strip of sea that separated our island from the continent. When we reached the crossroad where the Scarred Wastelands intersected with Dragonhome and the Tangled Wood, there was another Guardian waiting for us. She greeted Torval like an old friend and peered at me curiously when Torval introduced me. Although she didn't exude the same air of menace that our visitor did, she still made me wary. Perhaps it was the reddish hue of her eyes or the strange armor she wore that pulsed as if it were alive. Nonetheless, I felt stricken with panic when Torval had to go and I had to nuzzle against her for a while before I felt calm enough to release her. When she did go, the red-eyed Guardian--Astrid--instructed me to rest in the cradle between her wings and to hang on tight. As soon as we were airborne, I found out why. Unlike Torval, who flew carefully and steadily high above the clouds, Astrid kept low to the ground, zigzagging across the terrain in precise motions and swerving to avoid obstacles with the sort of speed that Torval would most likely consider reckless. Despite all odds, we reached their lair safely and well before sunset.
I had kept my eyes shut most of the way, weary from the journey, so when I opened them again, I thought at first that we must have been swallowed up by some beast. The lair, as it turned out, was composed of the skeletal remains of some massive creature. It was half melted into a rocky obsidian outcropping on one side and infused with yellowish desert glass on the other, creating the strange sensation of being stuck in twilight. From the ground, I could see cave entrances dotting the obsidian mountain, but there were holes in the bones too, and I could see vague silhouettes moving through the milky glass. It seemed so strange to live in another creature's remains. But also somewhat cool.
We must have arrived at suppertime because I could heard loud munching and the wet sounds of flesh being torn apart. I was feeling rather hungry myself, so I followed Astrid to what must have been their dining area. I didn't quite expect the mess I saw. They were fighting over food, though from what I could see there was more than enough for everyone. Two mirrors, in particular, were playing tug-of-war with a strip of meat, rolling on the floor and clawing at each other as they struggled for it. There were two Guardians arguing over who got to feed the Spiral sleepily curled up between them. Near the piles of fish and eels, there were two male Coatls butting heads over a stingray. There seemed nothing playful about it until the smaller one began licking the other and the fight slowly devolved into a...not-fight. Hastily looking away, I realized that Astrid had gone and that I was alone, slowly garnering the attention of the gathered bunch.
I'd never felt so embarrassed as I did then, standing in the middle of supper with a group of strangers blatantly gawking me. I suppose that was what moved me to dive for cover. A white Guardian entered the hall as I did, and for a fleeting moment, I thought it was Semry, and so I dove between his legs and hid beneath him.
"Well, well, and who is this?" a voice rumbled above me. And that was how I made my first impression on the dragon they called Ragnar.
--
Later, in the safety of Ragnar's den and away from everyone's prying eyes, I presented Torval's gifts of gold and gave a bow as I was instructed. I introduced myself, stated the reason for my stay, and waited patiently as Ragnar toyed with a baby goat--of which there were many, all plump and unbearably juicy-looking as they scampered about the room.
"Do you want one?" Ragnar asked, his voice a lovely timbre that I someday wished to mimic.
I jumped to attention and considered the offer. I still hadn't eaten and was rather famished at that point. But then Ragnar grinned--and what pointy teeth he has--as he petted a particularly fat goat. "You can have this one," he said. "You can't eat it though." At my questioning look, he gestured around us. "They're my pets, you see. Astrid keeps telling me that it isn't practical to hoard food as pets, especially since they take sick so easily and die quickly, but look at them. They're positively adorable. And I do so love adorable things." He looked at me as he said this and I stammered out some inane reply about my favorite food being sparrows.
A Spiral chose that moment to slither in--dark as charcoal, with a hood that covered his face. He talked to Ragnar in quiet but urgent tones. Ragnar's expression grew thunderous as he listened to his message, and he eventually rose, so tense that the muscles of his flank quivered. He took no notice of the baby goats scampering away in fright. The Spiral gathered the gold, and motioned for me to follow.
"Goodbye, little one," was the last I heard before I was ushered out.
--
The Spiral did not lead me anywhere. We stopped in a cavernous hall, where he took stock of me, shaded face giving nothing away. After some time, he turned his back on me and simply left, slithering away and turning the corner too fast for me to follow.
"H-hey!" I cried, running after him as panic settled heavily in the pit of my empty stomach. I wandered awhile, slowly growing more and more upset, as I called out for someone. I gave a wail when I bumped into something in the gloom, thinking I was to die in some forgotten corner of an obsidian mountain.
It turned out to be a massive Guardian with veins of aqua decorating his dark skin, hidden beneath his armor but visible in his exposed wings. "Oh dear," he said, stepping back with a sheepish smile directed at me. "I'm awfully sorry about that," he said. "Honestly, I've been telling them that these halls are too dark. Obsidian swallows up all the light and we could certainly use a lamp or two." He had such a gentle and disarming manner that I found myself tentatively smiling back.
"It wasn't your fault at all," I answered, hopping closer. "It's just that I'm awfully lost, and the Spiral left me here, and I'm not quite sure where I'm supposed to go now, and this lair is so awfully large and dark and--" To my horror, I found my voice cracking as I slowly dissolved into tears. I was so embarrassed that I had unconsciously pulled my wings up to cover my head.
I could hear the Guardian making fretting noises as he attempted to comfort me but I could not stop crying.
Another voice soon added to the din--distinctly monotonous and female. "What have you done now?" she--whoever she was--asked.
"I found this poor hatchling here. He says he was lost and then he began crying...I don't know what to do." The Guardian sounded so worried and yet perfectly calm that I slowly calmed down as well.
I lowered my wings, petulantly mumbling, "I'm not a hatchling."
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a Fae hovering over the Guardian's shoulder. She sniffed haughtily, said, "Let's go, Stigr," and disappeared down a long corridor.
"But we can't just leave him," the Guardian, Stigr, gently protested. I didn't expect the Fae to return, but she did, though reluctantly. She flopped on his shoulder, wedging herself between the spikes of his armor, and stared down at me coolly.
I walked beside Stigr, chatting idly, until we reached the top of the mountain, where several dragons were stationed. Everyone looked like they were off to go to war, and when I said this out loud, Stigr's smile turned grim.
"Foolish child," the Fae murmured. "Everyday is a battle in this God-forsaken land. The moment you let your guard down, you just might become another casualty."
A distinctly cheerful voice broke through my stricken thoughts and I turned to see a blood-flecked Mirror approaching us. His hood was pulled low around his neck, torn where his armor must have snagged it, and he had a disarming smile. Another Mirror with bare crystal skin the color of flesh approached us; he had a lithe, toned body that made me squirm with jealousy, and feathered wings dyed crimson.
"Hello," I greeted, reciting my usual introduction.
"Aha, so you're the visitor from Mother Nature, eh?" the armored Mirror said, circling me.
"He was at dinner," the crystal one noted, nudging his companion. "Except you were too busy play fighting with Naos to notice." He flashed me a winning smile, the whites of his eyes unblinking.
The armored Mirror huffed in response. "That upstart knew I had a scouting shift right after dinner, and he still tried to steal my meal."
"What did you find?" Stigr asked, cutting into the conversation. At his brisk tone, the mood shifted. It was though everyone's guard suddenly came up.
The armored Mirror grimly smiled. "Sann probably has more to say than I do." He glanced at me, pointed at a cluster of Coatls, and said, "Go find Duane. He's the nice one. He should be able to show you where Ragnar wants you to stay for the duration of your visit." The dismissive tone of his voice made me balk, so I said my goodbyes and approached the Coatls.
--
As I scampered over to the gathered Coatls, they all turned to look at me. I clumsily stopped a foot away, nervously worrying the tip of my tail, until one of them stepped forward and accosted me with a steely red-eyed stare. There was something vaguely familiar about his features. He was handsome, that I can safety say. He was lithe and well-proportioned, resplendent in tarnished armor and mechanized wings that followed his movements fluidly. But there was something about him that seemed untamed, sensual, and dangerous. His stare made my blood curdle.
Suddenly, he was pushed aside by another Coatl, this one equally dark or perhaps a shade lighter, but definitely taller. He wore a leather vest with brass fastenings and small buttons that matched the electric blue of his eyes. Perhaps most notable of all, his magic was visible in streaks of ever-shifting light that ran back and forth along his midsection up to his throat. It looked like electricity coursing through his body. He introduced himself as Duane and apologized for the behavior of his friend, Cerin, who stood to the side, looking angrier and angrier by the minute.
"I don't mean to interrupt," I stuttered fearfully, flashing nervous glances at the fellow named Cerin, "but the armored Mirror instructed me to find you."
"Of course," Duane replied kindly. "I assume I'm to show you to your temporary den?" he asked, head cocked.
"I believe so," I replied, noticing how Duane puffed out his wings to block Cerin from view.
"Do follow me," Duane requested, smiling reassuringly as he turned around.
Cerin was gone from his side. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him take to the skies with another dark Coatl, similarly armed and with a crown of antlers upon her head. His sister perhaps? They made a striking pair against the backdrop of the clear sky.
When I turned my head, I saw Duane looking in the same direction, though with a wistful cast to his eyes.
"Do you know where they are going?" I asked curiously.
Duane simply shook his head with an oddly sad smile and led me away, back into the dark tunnels.
--
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 Mincho to the service of the Icewarden 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.