Chevalix
(#35091585)
Artificer, Healer, Leader
Familiar
Larkspur of Thundercrack
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0
out of
50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Fire.
Female Fae
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
0.97 m
Wingspan
1.5 m
Weight
3.02 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Metallic
Metallic
Obsidian
Striation
Striation
Robin
Veined
Veined
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Fae
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
5
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
6
INT
8
VIT
5
MND
8
Biography
It's been a long voyage, and the Wildclaw beside you hasn't been much for company. He just acted as a guide, occasionally offering a chuckle when you faltered or stumbled, but never help. Finally, you're here, and somewhat glad to be rid of your present company. As you enter the somewhat small and unassuming cave, Faust, the Wildclaw, ducks in behind you. You stand, confused, in the center of the cave, unsure of where to go -- this small shelter is hardly big enough to hold the two of you, never mind a Clan as large as you've heard. Faust rolls his eyes, sighs, and with an exaggerated step around you, proceeds to walk straight through the back wall.
"First cave on your left," he says from behind the illusion, although his voice is significantly muted. "If you manage to get lost in the next ten feet, it's not my problem."
Following his directions, you enter the real cave, which opens dramatically before you. A series of rooms line this large hall, with dragons crossing to and fro between them. A large white Imperial exits the nearest room, flexing a wing held together with an artificial joint made of cogs. She seems pleased with the result, and smiles toothily at you as she passes. Down the hall, you see Faust catch your eye, obviously keeping an eye out for you, before huffing and turning away.
You peer into the room the Imperial just exited, the first room on the left, and see a small Fae cleaning her workstation with a filthy rag. On the far side of the room, an enormous Snapper rests with her mouth wide open. Magma drips in a slow but steady stream into the bowl-shaped next she rests in, which doesn't seem to bother her as she twitches in her sleep. On a surgical table lies an unconscious teal Mirror, his face and upper body mostly destroyed by scar tissue. After a moment, the Fae tosses the oil-soaked rag on a pile hidden in the corner of the room, and notices you.
"I thought I heard Faust come home," she says in way of greeting. Her glasses whir, and seem to focus in on your face. "You don't seem in immediate need of treatment. How can I help you?"
You tell her the truth, that you were fascinated by the rumors you heard: of a reclusive, yet accepting, Clan of biomechanical dragons. How their leader could practically make the dead walk again, without the use of necromancy, and how such wonders were performed without expectation of payment, except perhaps in raw materials. How there was nowhere else in the world you felt you could turn to, with your own Clan in the state it is, and how you wanted to... well, to join up, as it were.
The Fae nods once, although she seems a bit flustered. "That? Well... I won't say it's nothing, there was a lot of trial and error, and -- hm. I can't raise the dead, but I can help cure the living. Machines don't fail when magic does, when people do. There's always room here for one more, too. Shall I show you around?"
You nod, excited. She returns the gesture with a small smile.
"Good. My name is Chevalix, and this is my Clan. Be sure not to stare, now."
"First cave on your left," he says from behind the illusion, although his voice is significantly muted. "If you manage to get lost in the next ten feet, it's not my problem."
Following his directions, you enter the real cave, which opens dramatically before you. A series of rooms line this large hall, with dragons crossing to and fro between them. A large white Imperial exits the nearest room, flexing a wing held together with an artificial joint made of cogs. She seems pleased with the result, and smiles toothily at you as she passes. Down the hall, you see Faust catch your eye, obviously keeping an eye out for you, before huffing and turning away.
You peer into the room the Imperial just exited, the first room on the left, and see a small Fae cleaning her workstation with a filthy rag. On the far side of the room, an enormous Snapper rests with her mouth wide open. Magma drips in a slow but steady stream into the bowl-shaped next she rests in, which doesn't seem to bother her as she twitches in her sleep. On a surgical table lies an unconscious teal Mirror, his face and upper body mostly destroyed by scar tissue. After a moment, the Fae tosses the oil-soaked rag on a pile hidden in the corner of the room, and notices you.
"I thought I heard Faust come home," she says in way of greeting. Her glasses whir, and seem to focus in on your face. "You don't seem in immediate need of treatment. How can I help you?"
You tell her the truth, that you were fascinated by the rumors you heard: of a reclusive, yet accepting, Clan of biomechanical dragons. How their leader could practically make the dead walk again, without the use of necromancy, and how such wonders were performed without expectation of payment, except perhaps in raw materials. How there was nowhere else in the world you felt you could turn to, with your own Clan in the state it is, and how you wanted to... well, to join up, as it were.
The Fae nods once, although she seems a bit flustered. "That? Well... I won't say it's nothing, there was a lot of trial and error, and -- hm. I can't raise the dead, but I can help cure the living. Machines don't fail when magic does, when people do. There's always room here for one more, too. Shall I show you around?"
You nod, excited. She returns the gesture with a small smile.
"Good. My name is Chevalix, and this is my Clan. Be sure not to stare, now."
HOARD
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RELATIONSHIPS   
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DRAGONS APPEARING IN THIS STORY
LORE NOTES
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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.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Chevalix to the service of the Stormcatcher 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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