ClockworkEclipse » Lair » Samshiel

Samshiel

(#94178143)

Level 1 Imperial

Familiar

Fallout Streak

Energy: 49/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

24.6 m

Wingspan

14.56 m

Weight

8219.69 kg

Genetics

Silver
Iridescent

Dust
Bee

Brick
Koi

Hatchday

Apr 08, 2024
(2 months)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Arcane
Unusual

Level 1 Imperial

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

S A M S H I E L

BARGHEST LORE AND LINEAGE PROJECT

GENERATION IV
CAVIAR | ROE LINE
NAOMI G7 | IGNIS G7

"I stand as a shadow with no body in the wake of the fire."

Rarely, when the sun of Sornieth is covered by spots of darkness, one may find a figure in the old church. A statue, shining in the candlelight, watches over all who enter, delicate and fair. A scythe rests in her arms, a bushel of grain in the other as she smiles at those who pray for their gathering runs. None know who truly lights their offerings at her feet, assuming it to be simple magic for show. Those who pass over her, however, return with singed coats, eyes wide as they speak of a sun with no light, a fire with no warmth, and their venture turned to ruin in a flame that never died.

This is the tale of the Barghest, Samshiel.

The sun vanished behind a pair of moons, a rare overlap that few got to live to see. Most drakes would be outside, shielding their eyes with protective spells and tinted eyewear so they could safely witness the phenomenon. Inside the old churchyard, however, there was quiet. A strange figure, patched with dark stone and polished alabaster, lay in the pulpit, glassy feathers casting a rare shadow as the light of the sun vanished, turning their pale form a deep grey. They almost appeared akin to a statue themselves, an easy mistake to make if it weren't for the pale color of their eyes.

Were they still his eyes, or were they her eyes now? In the dark daylight, it was hard to tell if they were golden or crimson in hue, and closer inspection of the creature revealed the eyes were perhaps the least strange thing about them. A hound, watching the shadows stretch onward with awe, but protective of something. Something important, to him and to her, the one who had come to the forefront so often as of late to whisper in his ear. Something was meant to happen, and it had to be soon.

A crack resounded, causing the figure to turn their well-groomed head to the eclipse above, a harsh ring forming behind their head as it entered totality. As far as they knew, none of their kin had hatched under a sky like this, where night overtook the day. There would be no full moon to guide their hatchlings, but perhaps this triumph of the moon over the sun would provide them with some new form of guidance. They could only feel relief that these glassy shells decided to shift while the sun was hidden from sight, shifting their tapestry nest as they finally made their way into the world.

The figure fought with themselves for a moment, a fierce voice claiming they must be kept safe as another vied for the ability to at least watch the eggs hatch. Finally they settled, curling around the nest with soft feathers resting over the shells as they shivered, ready to greet the darkest day Sornieth had seen. Their children, the second of their particular bond, would need them there. They would not be left alone as she had been. They would choose.

The first thing the children saw were the eyes of their parents, shifting from gold to faded red as they fought to get a glimpse of their pups. Each was huddled close with tender care, cleaned ever so gently by the ones who had brought them into this world, curse or not. Even if they chose to leave, Horcrux and Tadhiel wished for them to know without a shadow of a doubt that they were loved, no matter what may come.

The first drew on the precious metals near the pulpit, flowing smoothly into a delicate silver form with glassy wings to match her parents. The glass shifted, held together with silver that never seemed to settle, flowing like water. With eyes as dark as the eclipse above, she shook of the last of her shell and waited diligently for her name.

As soon as she was given her name from one of the many pages the Bound pair studied, Samshiel took her own place before the stained glass window, sitting as though she were a delicate statue of worship herself. She'd wait for her brothers to decide what they'll do, then make her own decision known. After all, in this strange time of lightless day, she could only imagine how strong they'd be if they worked together.

A quiet obelisk approaches the altar under the stained glass window, her every move uncertain as she tries to remember what she had been told. She was small for an obelisk, young enough to have just grown into her now small back paws. She had been walked through the rites before, time and again by her family. Offer something at the altar from the trip there, ask for a bountiful gathering, and return with something to thank her in the end. It was easy, simple.

Her claws shook as she laid out a bundle of flowers from her journey, tied with a string she'd made when she was younger. She remembered seeing burnt offerings before, but had no idea why this would burn without her breath or some other source of fire. And yet, as she murmured each word she'd been taught, asking the Eleven and their servants for safety this gathering trip, she barely managed to keep herself from jumping when the flowers caught fire on their own.

It was interesting to watch, once the surprise faded. Gentle flames, like candlelight, moved across the flowers she'd gathered, the smoke wafting up like incense. She figured it probably mixed in with some other offerings from earlier, with how it turned from some small flowers to a mix that reminded her of her grandmother's garden on a calm spring day.

Hatching lore by ClockworkEclipse

Layout and artwork by awaicu

Banners by PoisonedPaper

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Exalting Samshiel 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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