Mordred

(#805877)
Level 5 Wildclaw
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Familiar

Spellbound Tome
Spellbound Tome
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Energy: 0
out of
50
Plague icon
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Male Wildclaw
Male Wildclaw
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Personal Style

Apparel

Haunted Flame Candles
Darksteel Amulet of Necromancy
Darksteel Cuffs of Necromancy
Reaper Guise
Unearthly Onyx Grasp

Skin

Accent: Pink SeaJewels

Scene

Measurements

Length
3.58 m
Wingspan
4.67 m
Weight
471.13 kg

Genetics

Primary Gene
Midnight
Speckle
Midnight
Speckle
Secondary Gene
Magenta
Seraph
Magenta
Seraph
Tertiary Gene
Rose
Underbelly
Rose
Underbelly

Hatchday

Hatchday
Sep 28, 2013
(11 years)

Breed

Wildclaw icon
Adult
Wildclaw

Eye Type

Normal Eye Type
Plague
Common
Level 5 Wildclaw
EXP: 487 / 5545
Scratch
Shred
STR
8
AGI
7
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
5
VIT
7
MND
5

Biography

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"Prophet? I say things once, but truth is once, spun over on itself, and then turned into nothing."
MORDRED
the riddling prophet

Prime number ID

It takes a seasoned dragon to know that Mordred is not the clan’s honorary crazy. The aberrant dragon keeps mostly to himself, choosing to watch and listen from a distance rather than interact with the rest of the clan. When Mordred speaks, however, his words can unease the clan’s strongest warriors. The tangle of meanings and words are baffling bordering on horrific, as though hinting at something far too dangerous for even Mordred himself to phrase in comprehensible words.

Mordred is as deliberate as he is eccentric, that much is clear even without studying him for long. Spend some time watching the wildclaw out the corner of your eye, and maybe you will see him opening the book when he thinks he is alone. And if you do catch the softness that creeps over his usually-piercing gaze, do Mordred a favour, and don’t tell a soul.



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____________________________________________

l o r e


“Legend? Legends are just giants on small rocks, with the sand at their feet and the oceans far, far above them, reaching for the skies and for infinity and more.”

There are dragons who make stories, dragons who tell stories, and dragons who are stories. It is how dreams and histories are passed down, after all, for a clan is the sum of those within it. Each one brings something new and unimaginable to the mix: tales of courage and glory, and of clans far and wide, and of lives lived and loves lost and everything in between.

“Everything in between is nothing above and below.”

“It’s some, every, … nowhere.”

And then there are dragons who bring jarring tangles of sentences that make no sense, warnings that lack heads and tails, and words flung together in such a haphazard way that one is forced to doubt the sanity of the creator from which they came.

Dragons just like Mordred.

He comes across as a shock to many, not least because he carries himself with a certainty that only oft-tested intelligence can bring. Hidden behind the veil of black fabric is a body lean and fighting-fit, and if a dragon were truly lucky that day it might be possible to make out a bulge in the rectangular shape of a book.

“No tome shall hold enough tales to feed the fallen.”

Sornieth has its share of phenomenal scholars decked in mysterious vibes and even stranger guises. It isn’t difficult to think the same for Mordred, not when he has a gaze so thoughtful it feels like he can read another soul as if it were a fascinating new journal. There are years of knowledge and infinite wisdom evident in those even, crimson eyes. Mordred commands a certain knowing that compulses even the most unwilling dragons to listen and strain for what comes out of his mouth —

“Upon the stones they sit and count the beats, the time crawls dry, they count and watch and listen and there, there! On those hands, in those mouths, across the skies and coming here. Change is reversed, things are new and old, no words suffice, all tales becoming ash when you fall in their shadow—”

And then it all changes in an instant.

Of course, some say, Having come from as treacherous a place as the Scarred Wasteland, surely some trauma must have rendered his mind this piteously infantile. Ask and some others won’t hesitate to say, He’s absolutely raving mad! They watch him clutch at the tattered rags and burrow deeper under the hood — almost as if for comfort! — and they shake their heads and click their tongues with a sigh and a whisper passing between them, quietly so he will not hear.

Others, those who give him chances and the benefit of many doubts, try to listen. More often than not, his words seem to come from the very Plaguebringer herself, words that send shivers running up skins and churn guts, like listening to something chewing on a slab of meat for too long. The certainty and conviction with which Mordred speaks has to hide something more, for lies are lies only when there is truth, and confusion can only be where there is clarity to be had.

“Nothing is clear, not even the waters or the rain, unless you look at them across a burning forest where leaves on trees look like the sun setting and rising at the same time.”

Yet not all of it are pointless rambles and distorted riddles with no answers. Ask the older dragons and they will grow perturbed, This one time… One or two might admit, It just takes a bit of getting used to… It’s not ‘nonsense’…

Ask Aure, and her expression will grow clouded, unreadable — fond? — and she might even smile: Mordred? Why yes, he’s more than meets the eye.

Think what you may, make what you will, of the wildclaw called Mordred —

“Legends are just big rocks on small giants, and I am the sand and the ocean and the sky.”

— and though his words may seem unbelievable, don’t blame him when certain things just happen.

What is truth? What are lies? As Mordred shapes each word, carefully, as if every syllable is the most precious thing in the world, right and wrong blend together in a strange, uneasy tapestry where one shape bleeds into the next. In a single sentence, past and future, now and then, late and never all become one. Mordred is paradox, he is contradictory, he is syntax failed and grammar broken and sense unmade —

“All of this? All of this is… yes, yes, all these perfectly wrongs, are rights, left.”
(written by kuill)


____________________________________________

t h e . t o m e


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Mordred keeps a tome of great value. The pages contain Mordred's
writing, in perfect structure, lacking any hint of madness as his
spoken words do. It is a carefully written account of the dearest
former members of the clan, and the memories associated with them.




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Nagendra and Zarama lived with the clan for a long time, producing nests of hatchlings which were as loveable as they were odd. They decided they would rather serve a greater purpose, and I last saw them flying off to the Lightweaver together, holding hands.


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Laenus and Aure met when they were young. I hear it was love at first sight. After a while he became restless, regretting not having seen more of the world, and though it broke his hart, he eventually left. He stayed in a Lightning clan and later a Wind clan, and eventually followed his Wind instincts and decided to serve the Windsinger. For this reason, sometimes I see Aure with a faraway look in her eyes. She has yet to find a new mate. She really loves him most.


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Bouris and Azure were one of the clan's first couples. When things became crowded here they happily moved to another clan. One of their children, Cobalt, moved to a clan with snappers of every colour imaginable.


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Emarion stayed with the clan for some months, taking the Earth seat in the Council of Elders. I don't think he ever felt he represented his clan well, and he sure seemed uneasy about the position most of the time. But since earth elders are hard to come by he stayed here, with us. He is loyal like that. Silurian came by, originally just another visitor of ORC, expecting to move to a new clan quickly, but when she heard about the Council of Elders she was thrilled, fluttered about all excited, like Fae do. The Council invited her to fill the seat, and she really wanted to, but by then she had already been spoken for by Sakurablossom's clan. She was obligated to go, but much to her relief and joy, Emarion offered to take her place in the new clan. I think they're both much happier this way.
The last I heard of him, he was chosen as an honorary member to a new clan after a great Lightning battle. I hope he finds a good new home.


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Kelowna is another dragon who was part of the Council of Elders - I think he helped found it, actually. I'm not sure why he moved on to another clan, he seemed to like it here. Wanderlust, I guess. He really did long for the bigger things out there.


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Isamu was a quirky fellow. All those arcane dragons seem to be. Perhaps, it is something about all that magic. It addles their brains. He took the arcane seat in the council of elders, but I don't think he really understood his duty there. In fact I'm not sure he even understood the concept of 'old', actually. When Astraea came by it was immediately clear to everyone that she would be far more suitable for the council. Some dragons opposed the change at first, since Astraea was a more recent visitor to the clan. After Isamu started talking about crickets in the middle of a serious discussion, Haizea took him apart to talk, though, and after that there were no objections to Astraea's inclusion into the Council. Still, Isamu stuck around a bit longer, changing colours several times, but eventually went off to a clan which also liked old dragons.


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These two were a pair of old, well-loved dragons in the clan. I remember them, always surrounded by hatchlings wherever they went. Eventually, they tired of their life here, and decided to make a new life for themselves in Archie's freshly founded clan. I hope they are happy, and the hatchlings there bring them joy.


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After much deliberation, these two long-term residents moved to candleglow's brand-new clan. It seemed like an energetic, friendly place and they could use some experienced dragons like Eanor and Nimloth. Once in a while I still think of them. They always had a wise word for anyone who asked.


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Hyperion and Feanor moved out to make more room during the Light vs nature battle in August 2015. They left abruptly and didn't say goodbye. Perhaps that was a good decision, because then there were no tears or objections to add to their already difficult decision. The older dragons tell stories of them, though — their bravery and courage, and the hatchlings aspire to be like them. Their legacy goes on.


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Vanyra was Farin's breeding partner. They had long been trying to get offspring with the right colours and genes, but it just wouldn't work. Frustrated and tired, Vanyra decided to go away to serve the Lightweaver in the big battle of August 2015. I truly hope she is happier there.


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Matrix, Beast and Hunda all left in the great battle of August 2015. I still remember how Beast looked like.
Hunda: "Darth Fluffball. The static electricity that builds up around her in battle makes her coat stand out in all directions. Don't touch her, you'll get zapped."


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Freya befriended Ursi in Infectionary's clan, and decided to go check out her Plague home land. (Originally Plat/Blood/Splash, was scattered upon arrival in her new clan)


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Erian moved to Gladewalkers clan, and was most welcome there. It's easy to miss him amongst the foliage. He seems to make a joke out of it, and said jokes have gotten infinitely worse in his new clan. Leaf those puns behind, Erian....


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Toothiana stayed here for a while after her old clan Ademordna disbanded. She has come to love the ruins, the libraries and the light shining over it all, but she decided being by the Lightweaver's side would be better still. She left her daughter Laetitia behind to keep an eye on us.


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Vitra - old lightning rep


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Carnelian came to the clan as a contest prize, in a time where Crystal and Facet had only just entered the gene pool. He and his partner Adora hatched many beautiful hatchlings, some of which moved in with friendly clans in the area. (full size)


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Haizea - Used to be the representative for Wind in Poisonedpaper's clan, but retired when an older representative showed up. Rehomed through ORC.
art


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Azrael - old light rep


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Poseidon - old Nature rep


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Idris no longer fit the clan's rather pacifistic attitude, and went off to serve the Lightweaver. art by fallingfreely


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Nessa moved to Teahunter's clan. This is what she looked like when she lived here.
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Thread left the clan when we was traded for Harmony. This is what he looked like.


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Old breeding pairs
[/colums]
Bio by Kuill (thank you!)
Quote:
And then, late and never all become one. Mordred is paradox, he is clarity to be. The older dragons like he can read another dragons and they shake their brains. He really did long for the bigger things just like the sun setting any hint of madness as hisspoken words do. It isn’t difficult decision. The older dragon who was part of the time crawls dry, they count and wide, and of clans far and wide, and of clans far and words flung together, holding hands.

“No tome shapes each world, there are dragons just big battle of meanings and words. It isn’t difficult decision, these perfect structure, nowhere. In fact I'm not sure with a certainty and histories are just because the stories of sentences to feed to make stories. Perhaps, it were a fascinating new journal. There are dragons lived to add to think he even with a favour, and dragon keeps a tome of great battle of August 2015. I truly left.”

Think what you may, make what you may, make what you may, make no sense, warnings that lack heads and tails, and words flung together in a strange, uneasy tapestry where one shape bleeds into the clan. I think they're both much happier there.

“Nothing is clear, not even the most welcome there is contradictory, he is syntax failed and grammar broken and sense unmade —

“Upon the same time.”

Yet not all of it are pointless rambles and histories are lies only.
This bio, run through a Markov chain generator - this comes pretty close to what Mordred's ramblings would sound like, actually!

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Art by Blackscaledtail #141629

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