Seiryuu » Lair » Belial

Belial

(#125654)

Level 25 Spiral

Familiar

Plague Sprite

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

4.22 m

Wingspan

3.21 m

Weight

120.52 kg

Genetics

Maroon
Python

Jade
Shimmer

Maroon
Peacock

Hatchday

Jul 07, 2013
(10 years)

Breed

Adult
Spiral

Eye Type

Plague
Goat

Level 25 Spiral

Max Level

STR

127

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

Biography

The harsh sun was finally going down. It danced in the hazy heat of the desert, wallowing on the horizon as if loathe to let go of its tenuous grasp on the day. Everything was dust and death here. Dry sand, dry heat, dry throats, dry skeletons. It was truly fit only for the strongest, the survivalists.

Baldr heaved a pleased sigh as his post fell into shadows. It wasn’t much, but the smallest relief after the past hours of the scorching light was a blessing. He scanned the land, noting the small shifts in sand, the bobbing head of a shattered serpent and the fast trot of a courier in the distance.

A light scratching noise behind the wildclaw drew his attention briefly. Anything not visible to him was being watched by Sonata, so he wasn’t surprised that a clan member was scaling the rocky outpost to join him. What did surprise him was who it was.

Blooded was an odd one, to be sure. A seer with unprecedented abilities, which she used in the most baffling and cryptic manner (much to Herodias’ chagrin).

The pearlcatcher was also incredibly reclusive. She preferred to See in her lair, bathed in candlelight, hidden from her clan mates. She usually ate there, slept there, entertained a few other dragons - who could understand her vague words as a full conversation - there.

Baldr raised a single brow as the blood-red dragon tucked herself neatly in next to him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he quipped. Her only reply was a head tilt and quick tap of her claw to his right wing. He cautiously unfurled it, avoiding jostling her on the narrow outcrop. When the appendage was at a height she approved off, she simply scooted closer to him and nuzzled her head into his shoulder.

Baldr choked. Blooded didn’t do skinship. She was stoicism and faith and trust. She wasn’t a cuddler. She was, like, anti-cuddler. And yet, here the pearl was, a searing line of heat against his side. “What…” was all he got out before her raspy words caught his ear.

“They come.”

His eyes snapped to the horizon. Still sand and dirt and… no wait, there in the distance. A pack of mirrors loped on the edges of their borders. He bristled, the high-pitched warning whistle building in his throat.

“Not them,” she noted, flatly.

The white wildclaw peered at the pack, squinting to try to find markings in the fading light. One of the leaders had an odd gait, almost as if… ah, it was the HookWyrm pack, allies. Their matriarch’s birth defect presenting itself in a very distinct run.

Baldr eyed the rest of his sector, finally sighting two figures meandering directly towards the lair. He knew the gaits of these two instantly and always would. “Pandora and Belial are coming back,” he stated, confused, “but why would that bring you here?”

Blooded’s eyes met his. It was always a bit unsettling, the milky depths that saw the very fabric of things. No, that wasn’t right. She saw the absence of things. The missing bits.

He froze.

His head whipped back to the matriarch and her soul-brother. Her wings drooped, her pace stilted and pained. Belial glided, flapping only when necessary. He barely curled a loop in the air, airborne by the barest breath of wind.

“Where is Edra?” Baldr croaked, knowing the answer. The young bogsneak had been so excited. His first training session.

“Gone,” was her hissed reply.

And he knew why she was here.

When the two drew close, he sat tall and reported the quiet of their territory to Pandora. Her tired eyes met his. She nodded slightly and moved into the lair, undoubtedly going in search of Chronos.

Belial, though, had landed. Refusing to meet either of their looks, he watched as the sun finally let the desert sink into darkness. The spiral’s head was raised high, even while every muscle screamed weariness.

Blooded was out of her element. She could foresee, but feelings were almost beyond her ken. She simply shuffled a hair’s breadth away from her partner.

Bladr was a different story.

“Come here, Belial,” he snapped.

The maroon spiral startled. Placing a single, clawed hand to the rocky pillar, he paused.

“Sometime this year,” the white dragon huffed, lip curling.

The male progenitor of the clan ascended, slowly. When he reached the wildclaw, his breath was wispy and shallow.

“What went wrong?” Baldr practically snarled.

“Ambush,” he murmured.

“That was the cause. What was the effect? What went wrong?”

“I wasn’t fast enough.”

Baldr eyed him, forcing a grimace to his face. “Against?”

“A group of centaur archers caught us in a gully.”

“And how is it your fault, exactly?”

“I should have been more perceptive…” the spiral began.

The wildclaw scoffed. “Uh huh. Not possible.”

Belial’s brows sunk a little. Annoyance marred his face. “It is always possible to be more vigilant; if we had taken the north route…”

“Who guards that gully?”

The red spiral paused. “The HookWyrm clan,” he stated.

“I just saw them pass by. It’s much later than their usual hunt. I have no doubt that the centaurs were involved in more than just your ambush,”

“Still, if I had been a few seconds faster…”

“You might have an arrow in your throat,” Baldr cut in. The wildclaw saw the slight flare of wings, the rigid curl of spine; just what he was looking for.

“Now see here,” the spiral raged, launching into a rant that was well-known to the white dragon. This was the odd basis for their partnership. The spiral would drag himself back crushed and hurting, the wildclaw would stir his anger up, they would scream at each other about how everything was/wasn’t their fault and then they would bask in some well-deserved cuddles.

Was it healthy? Probably not completely, but soft words and gentle touches always left Belial more miserable than when he arrived.

The two were panting when they finally reached their mutual agreement of ‘no it wasn’t anybody’s fault except the centaurs, yes it’s awful, yes we’ll bless Edra’s spirit in the morning, yes we should check on the HookWyrm pack tomorrow, I love you too, you big jerk’.

Baldr sighed. Brushing his muzzle against Belial’s, he let relief wash over him. The ambush had sounded terrible. Edra died with the first volley. Only the twin progenitors’ ridiculous strength and reflexes had saved them from the same fate.

The wildclaw may be the oldest, but he was no leader. The thought of losing either of them was one of his greatest fears.

“Come on,” he whispered to the red spiral, “I’m on duty for another candlemark, at least.” The circuit-patterned wing swept the plague dragon to his right side.

Belial’s stunned look when he caught sight of Blooded caused the wildclaw to stifle a snicker into a clawed hand. “I didn’t even notice you,” the spiral choked.

“Nice to know I’m appreciated,” Blooded’s stoic reply caught them both and the quiet was cut with roars of laughter.

The pearlcatcher rolled her eyes (Baldr assumed, she made the general head motion of eye-rolling), before catching the spiral in her grasp and tucking him neatly between her and Baldr. She muttered something about relationships and voids, tucked her head into one of Belial’s curls and promptly went to sleep.

Belial looked bewildered. Baldr knew the feeling. He placed a clawed hand on the spiral’s shoulder. The progenitor turned slightly, not wanting to upset this new, touchy-feely pearlcatcher. “Don’t forget that we will always be waiting for you.”

Belial’s expression softened. He curled his tail against the other male’s and sighed as his head drifted to his forearms. “I know. Thank you.”

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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.

Exalting Belial to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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