Rath
(#66094492)
Lorekeeper.
Familiar
Cinnabar Plaguebringer
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0
out of
50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Gaoler
This dragon is benefiting from the effects of eternal youth.
This dragon is an ancient breed.
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Personal Style
Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
2.24 m
Wingspan
0.26 m
Weight
110.01 kg
Genetics
Oilslick
Ripple (Gaoler)
Ripple (Gaoler)
Black
Current (Gaoler)
Current (Gaoler)
Silver
Ghost (Gaoler)
Ghost (Gaoler)
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Gaoler
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
5
DEF
7
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
9
MND
7
Biography
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- Rath - eldritch │ lorekeeper │ true plague |
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A young yet mature creature being the one who tells the lore of this clan. Rath is a very patient and calm Gaoler, often seen telling stories to the smaller ones. She will never age up and is stuck in her somewhat cute appearance. However, do not underestimate her at all times. |
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Part of the Asylum.
Natural born primal.
Natural born primal.
- Welcome to the Asylum -
We will always belong to the Plague Flight, no matter what this lairs element is.
We will always belong to the Plague Flight, no matter what this lairs element is.
Eyes linger on the Fae before you, who is casually attempting to shuffle through the slips of paper despite the comparable size difference. "Well," he finally says, allowing a grin, "the history of this place... it might be better to ask Cynta about that. But, in the meantime, I'll definitely do my best to give you a run-down- and, get you more acquainted with everyone here."
You watch carefully as he makes his way over to a small bell that hangs loosely from an overhead floorboard, and reaching out with his small claws, he grabs it only to release it once again, the surprisingly haunting jingle it makes echoing in the makeshift office. Without any warning, what appears to be a jumble of limbs bursts through the door, unraveling itself to reveal what actually is a very perky-looking Spiral.
“Hello, hello!” She chirps, before her eyes settle upon you. As though having found new prey, her grin widens, and she practically hovers towards you.
“Gurke,” Evrah softly smiles, not fazed at all. “Good to see you. Pardon the sudden call, but, I don’t suppose you can show this fine specimen around the Asylum?”
You aren’t able to comment on the nickname before the Spiral(Gurke, it seems)pipes up again, her voice somehow even more enthusiastic. “Definitely, definitely! Leave it to me!” Without much else of a chance to react, a pair of short yet strong talons grab onto you, pulling you out of the room. The last sight you see of the Fae is him waving at the two of you, before the door slams shut.
The smell of rot is evident even in such a clean-looking mansion. But you’ve already gotten used to the scent; what surprises you more is the clean part. But, even then… something more sinister seems to ooze through the cracks that line the bottom of the floor, the creaks in the doors and walls, the strange and hidden noises of roaming along.
Gurke doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment, however, a bubbly aura strongly emitting from her.
You maneuver through the mansion with ease with her as your companion, listening to her intently as she begins prattling on about the attire of each room, before beginning that story that you had come here to learn in the first place; One of a lone Fae, once one of solitude that soon became lonely. She had a special eye for picking out peculiarities in other dragons, and an even bigger tendency to attract them. Not that she minded, no no- rather, she welcomed these “odd” dragons, seeing them as individuals even when they were cut out of society.
Once caring for them in the light of the Sunbeam Ruins, she quickly found she bit off more than she could chew. Their little makeshift home, nestled in an abandoned mansion, got far too small and cramped. And so, she went to the Lightning Expanse. The desert had plenty of room, most definitely, but it still lacked the resolve of a home. That was what she wanted for her group, more than anything. A place to stay. A place to rest. The Scarred Wasteland had been a region she doubted they would stay in long, but to her surprise, she met another Fae in the confines of the Hellwell Undercroft, who had the same wishes as her. A wish to bring all dragons who are deemed “outcasts” to a place where they could find residence. And he had a place for her and her ragtag team as well, in a big yet empty mansion.
Gurke trails off, but this seems to be due to something catching her eye. You follow her line of view to settle your eyes upon the figure of a Bogsneak, masks and clothes adorning her features, a calculating look contrasting her slouched posture.
And when the Spiral lurches forward to greet her with enthusiasm, forcing you to tail along, you quickly find that introductions with her do not help you in analyzing the new dragon; besides a name and more input. The curious face that seems to be analyzing your every movement speaks in an almost drawl; ‘Gavin’ was the name she called herself. She doesn’t speak much on herself; just her job as the boss of the Asylum’s mighty trade.
You were already aware of the clan’s status as one of the highest trading groups in the Wasteland, a title well deserved. And the Bogsneak that stands before you claims to be the reason for it all.
Once a simple merchant, she first learned about the clan when a Fae came to her. Introducing himself as Evrah, he had explained that apparently, due to a boom of “population”, he needed funds to help support his newfound clan- and he understood Gavin to be one of many peculiarities, who would fit right into the mansion. Especially as a trader.
Evrah never asked for an object, which was the Bogsneak’s usual expertise. Rather, they offered Gavin a place to stay; and in turn, she had helped him become the successful lair they are now.
You bow your head towards the dragon, thanking her for the information. She merely laughs, a startling sound, and encourages you to come by whenever you desire something. You follow Gurke as she goes off, before you go into a room that appears more like… a hospital ward, but with way more drawn curtains to separate beds.
Here you meet a Coatl, his face obscured by a pointed mask. It doesn’t look like he’ll acknowledge you two, until Gurke calls for him, and he reluctantly places down his clipboard with a sigh, approaching you. Truly, you aren’t paying much attention; your ears are settled on the muffled, pitched sound of a songless hum, paired with the gruesome noises of something being torn apart. It sounds like it’s coming behind one of those curtains, but you aren’t able to investigate before the “doctor” is greeting you. Or, whatever that sharp nod is that he gives when Gurke introduces you by name.
The Doc, after all, is a busy type of dragon, and he isn’t one for interruptions. The Asylum is home to a place brimming with plague- quite a few of its inhabitants having once been contaminated by the effects of the Wyrmwound.
The plague is a touching subject in itself. An almost expanding concept that required consistent analysis, one the doctor was always willing to provide. And the Asylum was willing to host him and his studies; to give him a place to stay and learn, and perhaps even, assist others. Not that that has many warrants; the Doc was a medic, of course, but most of all, he was a investigator.
It isn’t that much information, but frankly, when he actually begins to go into detail of his procedures… you can’t help but feel a little sick, and hence, you don’t mind when Gurke says her farewells and takes you with her out of the room.
Creatures touched by the Wyrmwound… yes, this seemed like the place to host just that. Your honestly surprised at the kindness Evrah and Gurke had given you before, for every other dragon you meet in these long, wide halls, are something out of the ordinary. From spirits to ones that leak of plague, the dragons that make up this place are surely outsiders. It fuels both your hapless disgust… and unfathomable curiosity.
The Asylum is a very fitting name.
You get the answers to your final questions as Gurke brings you to who she claims to be a very important figure; the clan rep themself.
They for certain fit in with the aesthetic of the clan, with their long winding body and bloodshot, sickly eyes enveloping them. As expected of a rep that represents a plague lair; they are, for all words needed, reeking of plague. And yet, you do not find yourself disgusted, allowing them to finish the final part of the story.
“After Miss Cynta settled here, word quickly spread around. The Wasteland is pretty much stuffed with ‘freaks’, you see… freaks who desire homes.”
“They tend to swarm to this place like flies. And I was one of those; a risen one, who spread disease and danger all around me. It was difficult, truly, finding a place to stay. But, when the Asylum had taken me in. Accepted me, for what I was. I came here pretty early, and thus, got to be known as the representative of this place. I also got to be known as a protector of this place; for once, a defender instead of a monster.”
“I’ve seen plenty of dragons pass by here. Some that I could say are similar to me… looking for a place to call home. And this place is just that. It’s funny, truly… for all the violent dragons in this place, they might as well be tamed puppies with Evrah’s rule of no crimes… that’s a joke, of course. It’s hard to take the violence out of the dragon, but give them a home, and they might as well want to stay there.”
“Maybe that’s it? Everyone is looking for a place to be accepted, and once they get it, they don’t want to let it go… that’s what this place represents. A home for freaks and outcasts, a peaceful place of no judgment… this mansion is just that.”
“It’s home. And I’m sure you’ll come to find that true, as well.”
Lore written by winterleaves11.
Thank you so much for creating a story based on my ideas.
Thank you so much for creating a story based on my ideas.
A Hatchery.
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