Amaroth
(#27347683)
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
Familiar
Cragbacked Bouldursa
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Pearlcatcher
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.47 m
Wingspan
5.02 m
Weight
422.84 kg
Genetics
Beige
Petals
Petals
Mint
Butterfly
Butterfly
Latte
Smoke
Smoke
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
NOT FOR SALE, TRADE, OR LENDING
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Microlore: Unable to see or be affected by the spirits that plagued his mother, this little one grew up in relatively blissful ignorance. He knew there were scary things out there, certainly, but so far he is unimpressed. This has led him to be a good deal more daring and adventurous than his siblings. It also tends to get him into a great deal more trouble.
~ pre-written lore from Unyko
This piece includes elements from ixris' lore. Amaroth also features prominently in Talji's story. |
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Amaroth
{ A - ma - ROTH } ♦ clan purchase 
╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮ The Pearlsnatcher (special thanks to Ximena / written by Disillusionist) ╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯ |
Amaroth had been fully prepared to take the lie to his grave, but recent events had discouraged him. That eerie being from the Reedcleft Ascent...the spectral sovereigns from the Rainsong Jungle...and young Filou had stowed away on a gathering trip and had not been quite the same when he'd come back. Apparently he'd run into something out there on the ice; but what it was, no one could say, and he wasn't telling. He would wink one golden eye and then disappear in a rush of cold air....No, spirits were trouble, and the less one even pretended to consort with them, the better.
The clan leaders began looking around for a dragon who could truly see and communicate with spirits. Amaroth was released from these duties, folded into the foraging team. He didn't mind foraging at all. It was certainly boring, but boring meant "safe" as far as he was concerned. He was well-protected by the clan guards, and no spirts would dare attack him.
So he felt perfectly at ease one day as he wandered away from the main group. He normally didn't do this, but one of the guards for today was Alberge, and Amaroth wanted to get away from him. Alberge was cold and haughty, and though he always spoke civilly, Amaroth didn't like the glint in his pink eyes, the way his talons were always digging into the ground. Scratching, gouging angrily, as if he were perpetually hungry for prey. "That one has issues," he thought as he wandered off.
After long minutes of picking tulips, he came to a break in the trees. He automatically looked ahead and paused warily.
A tower, standing in the middle of a small meadow. It wasn't very tall and in fact seemed damaged -- part of the western wall, near the top, had a sizable hole in it. There were dark marks around it....Scorch marks? An explosion? Amaroth's eyes narrowed, and he found himself drawn towards the tower. It didn't look large enough to house a lot of dragons. Perhaps it belonged to a very small clan. It didn't seem as though there'd been attempts to rebuild it after the explosion; maybe the inhabitants had moved on.
The tower door was open. It hung on its hinges, showing a dim interior. Amaroth had assumed the tower was some forgotten relic, but now, up close...It wasn't as old as he'd thought. The architectural style was recent, and the stones were not that worn. No ivy crawled up the walls, and only a faint coat of dust, perhaps just a few days old, covered the floor.
The Pearlcatcher tilted his head. "Hello?" he called out. His voice echoed faintly up and down the stairwell. He waited a moment longer, but nothing stirred within the tower, and he shook his head and went away.
He found the trail he'd taken through the trees. As he meandered back to his team, he noticed a dragon just up ahead. Small and bewhiskered, with a glittering golden mane...Another Pearlcatcher.
Amaroth slowed down. "I greet you, revered elder," he intoned respectfully. He watched as the old dragon looked up at him.
"The tower," said the other Pearlcatcher. "You saw." His voice was hoarse, wheezing. His golden eyes were clouded with age.
Amaroth nodded. "Was that your tower back there? I am sorry, I did not mean to trespass. It looked as though it was damaged, and I couldn't help but wonder if the occupants were all right."
"No one lives there anymore," sighed the old drake. "Not since...since..."
His voice trailed off. His face became still. "Your pearl," he whispered.
Amaroth blinked, confused. "Yes, um...I have a pearl. I mean, I am a Pearlcatcher. Like you." He twisted around, pulled his pearl from its bag and held it up. But as he did, he stopped cold.
The old dragon didn't have a pearl. None at all.
The thought sank into their minds at the same time. Amaroth froze, but the old Pearlcatcher's eyes suddenly came alight with a terrible hunger.
"You have a pearl." His voice rose into a hoarse shout. "Thief! You have my pearl!"
"This isn't your pearl. It's--"
"THIEF!" And the old Pearlcatcher charged. He smashed into Amaroth like a mad boar, throwing the younger drake away. Amaroth was flung aside, the wind knocked out of him, but he instinctively kept hold of his pearl.
His claws tightened around it as the old Pearlcatcher wrestled with him, trying to snatch the pearl away. The old dragon sobbed and gibbered, completely bereft of sense now. "Thief!" he kept howling. His claws raked at Amaroth's arms. "My sun, give me back my sun!"
"It's not your son!" Amaroth managed to wheeze. (He was thinking, "Son? This dragon had a child?") "It's my pearl; please leave me alone!"
With a vicious hiss, the old dragon slashed at him, drawing blood. Amaroth yelped as his cheek was sliced open.
"I don't like your eyes," snarled the dragon, and suddenly his voice was as cold and unforgiving as a sword blade. "Your eyes are so bright...like the sun. How dare you. How dare you mock me with your yellow eyes -- I, who have lost my sun!"
"He's talking about the sun!" Amaroth realized, a split-second before the old dragon glowed with fierce, bright light.
His paws and feet seemed to erupt into flame. Light burned beneath his scales, coursed up his arms and twined into runes. Bright, cheerful gold light, but with an ugly orange undertone, like fire eating away at old wood. Amaroth cowered, shielding his eyes with one wing even as he howled in fear.
He heard the tremendous crash of trees being knocked down, great, booming shouts. The rest of the team had heard him, and they were coming to the rescue. The old Pearlcatcher snarled in frustration. His light dimmed, and then he scuttled away through the undergrowth like a great, pale lizard.
With a resounding thoom, a huge paw slammed onto the ground a few feet from Amaroth. A towering Ridgeback bent down and prodded him gently with his nose-horn. "Hoy! What's gotten into you?"
Amaroth uncurled. He could've kissed the Ridgeback, but he managed to get himself under control. He spun around, looking for the old Pearlcatcher. "Th-there was another dragon," he stammered to Adrastos. He held his pearl close, cradling it as if it were an egg. "He was here, waiting for me. He saw me looking at the tower--"
"Huh." Adrastos turned and craned his neck. "Never seen that tower before. But then, it isn't very tall."
Sturmwelle bounded in next, followed by the rest of the foragers. Alberge sort of trailed along behind. He didn't seem interested in what was going on.
As they all gathered around Amaroth, he relaxed. He pointed out the tower and told them what'd happened: how the old Pearlcatcher had waylaid him, ranting and raving all the while, and how he'd tried to take Amaroth's pearl. The foragers shuddered when they heard this, and Sturmwelle rumbled in rage. Alberge tossed his silvery mane. "Well, then, where is this Pearl-snatcher?" he queried. "Let him see if he can take us on!"
"I don't think that would be such a good idea," Amaroth responded quietly. He recalled the heat radiating from the old Pearlcatcher's fiery paws, the empty insanity in his eyes.
Alberge's face darkened. "You think I can't handle him?"
"It's not a good idea," Amaroth repeated slowly and levelly. He didn't like Alberge at all; by now he knew that it was useless to try to reason with the Imperial. He had a superiority complex that was difficult to unseat, and Amaroth was beginning to suspect that he had been made a guard so that he could be kept as far away from the others as possible.
Shantung began, "There are stories..." She spoke hesitantly; she was the newest member of the team next to Amaroth and was obviously unsure how her words would be received. The others perked up as she explained, "I've heard rumors from other Light clans. Some dragons have said that they've been approached by an old, pale Pearlcatcher -- without a pearl. He speaks very softly, but there've been one or two cases where he's tried to take someone else's pearl. That's when things got...ugly."
"He called it a 'sun'," Amaroth remembered. "I mean, like the one in the sky. I thought he was talking about a child at first."
They all exchanged looks. For a few minutes, they debated combing the area to look for the Pearlsnatcher, but quickly scrapped that. Amaroth had lied before, but he seemed to be telling the truth now, and those scratches and bruises on his body couldn't be ignored. And if he had been attacked by the same Pearlsnatcher other clans had spoken of, then it was worth looking into. The Disillusionists had some sleuthing to do.
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The Disillusionists did their research patiently and carefully. They sent out their gatherers and traders with instructions to interview other clans. Most had not heard of the Pearlsnatcher. The few who had heard of him -- or been unlucky enough to encounter him -- spoke of him as if he were a night terror, a monster under the bed. He seemed more like a half-formed figure of legend than the very solid, very real dragon who'd been willing and able to beat Amaroth into the mud.
"The tower," Amaroth pressed. "Ask about the tower." And they soon learned that the tower in question had been the abode of a solitary drake, a powerful sorcerer who had devotedly worshiped the Lightweaver. "But he was such a saintly soul," said the dragons who'd met him. "He was patient and kind....He'd never do such a thing!"
"What happened to him?" the Disillusionists asked.
The scribe had disappeared from the tower one day. Those who'd arrived to investigate had noted the damaged wall, the signs of a magical explosion. Most dragons surmised that the old sorcerer had perished in a magical backlash: older dragons' magic did tend to be a bit unstable. But what if the sorcerer hadn't perished?
Soon the Disillusionists began hearing rumors from nearby territories. Their investigation took them deep into the Tangled Wood, and eventually, they came to the Hidden Haven.
The Disillusionists were initially wary of the Hidden Haven. It was a clan with an eerie reputation. One of their own members, Makeda, had actually visited some years before. A bird witch, she had naturally been curious about other dragons with abilities similar to hers and had approached Anpiel, one of the Hidden Haven's residents. The encounter with him had left her slightly rattled -- she still didn't like to speak of it. She also refused to guide the investigators to the Haven, and so it was Haruspex the Shadow Ambassador who led the way to the clan.
"We greet you," declared Onoind, one of the Hidden Haven's leaders. He was large for a Fae, with bright, inquisitive eyes. The other leader, Araziela, stood at his side. Her furry face softened into a smile.
The Disillusionists introduced themselves. Aside from Haruspex, there were Amaroth, Sturmwelle the trainer, and Auspice, the clan founders' daughter and Haruspex's mate. She had brought along her familiar, a Wintermane Bowman named Artemisia.
They were warmly received, familiar and all: the Hidden Haven dragons were friendly with the Beastclans and Artemisia had made a good impression on them. So had Makeda, her uncomfortable encounter with Anpiel notwithstanding. "Many of our members do unsettle visitors," Araziela admitted, "but there is nothing to be afraid of, we assure you. You are guests, after all."
Auspice blinked nearsightedly. She queried, "We've come all this way because we're tracking a dragon who attacked one of our clanmates some months ago. We don't know that dragon's name, but other dragons call him the Pearlsnatcher."
At this, Araziela's expression darkened. She seemed a bit disturbed. Onoind tilted his head, and his fins quivered. He tapped his staff on the floor. "You may wish to talk with one of our dragons. He may be able to help you."
The dragon in question was named "Acolight", and he was a Fae with beautiful golden skin. It matched his shimmering cloak perfectly. At first glance, one was almost blinded by his bright colors, the jewels dripping from his clothes. But his skin was a little too smooth and shiny, and the way the jewel was fastened to his tail....It seemed too tight. He twitched his tail out of view, hiding it beneath his cloak before anyone could comment. His familiar, a Poodle Mith, fluttered forward to help him stand, and that was when the visitors noticed the blindfold. Acolight was blind.
After the introductions had been performed, Haruspex asked politely, "We've heard you once ran into the dragon known as the 'Pearlsnatcher'. Is this true?"
"It may be. Though if I did, he did not yet go by that name." Acolight's voice was a quiet buzz, softer even than the chirr of cicadas. The Disillusionists had to lean in close to hear him.
"Can you tell us how you encountered him?" Haruspex pressed. He watched the Fae closely as he spoke. He had been taught to read others' body language, but Acolight barely moved, and his body was mostly shrouded by his cloak, anyway. The Poodle Mith stood silently by.
Acolight droned, "It was...I don't know how long ago it was. A long time. I don't remember. It was a difficult time for me....
"I wandered near the tower. He was angry. He struck me down, and I crawled away. The Mith helped me. A hunter from the Hidden Haven found me, and here I am."
It was a very vague story. Haruspex had seen the tower on the way here; he recalled the shattered and scorched wall. He inquired, "How did the Pearlsnatcher strike you down?"
"I assume it was magic. I didn't see it coming."
Didn't see. "Was it a spell cast specifically to blind you?"
"It might've been." Acolight effected a careless shrug. "As I said, I was not expecting it. I'm no mage. Don't ask me what it was."
"Your scales," Auspice said suddenly. Haruspex couldn't help cringing inwardly; he did love her very much, but she could be blunt, almost rude, sometimes.
Still, her tone was very gentle as she asked Acolight, "Did the Pearlsnatcher do that to you? And to your tail?"
Acolight did not answer immediately. The Disillusionists leaned in closer and closer till they thought they would fall onto their noses. It was then that they noticed the dark blotches on Acolight's blindfold, growing larger as they watched. Wet blotches. Tears. "He is always like that," Araziela had told them earlier. "Perhaps his blindness causes him great pain." She had assured them that there was nothing to worry about, but they still couldn't help feeling concerned.
Then the Fae raised his head. "I don't know what he did to me," he finally replied, and his voice had a note of finality to it. The interview, at least as far as he was concerned, was over.
Onoind and Araziela apologized for this later on. The Fae leader explained, "He's been like this ever since Quentin brought him here. He barely speaks. A dragon who looks like him would be pretty recognizable -- we've of course tried to find out more about his condition, but nothing's come up. I'm a bit surprised he agreed to talk with you, actually."
Amaroth queried, "Has the Pearlsnatcher been seen around these parts?" He cradled his pearl close as he spoke. He very rarely let it out of his sight now.
Araziela shook her head. Her hackles rose slightly as she growled, "I assure you that a thief, even one as formidable as him, would find it hard to penetrate our defenses. We are always ready for hostile encounters."
"So are we," Sturmwelle muttered. "It's always best to be prepared." She and Araziela traded looks. The others began to nod in agreement.
Over the next few weeks, the Disillusionists and Hidden Haven dragons continued to visit each other. Discussing, researching, learning...The two clans each had their own oddities -- monsters and magic and mysteries -- but they got along well and could support each other if need be. And as Araziela grimly remarked at one point, "It seems this Pearlsnatcher has attacked dragons from our clans. You know what they say: the enemy of my friend is my enemy as well." And the Pearlsnatcher was that enemy.
Would he ever show himself again? There was no way to tell. As Amaroth had noticed, other dragons spoke of him as if he were a legend, a figment of the imagination. Amaroth interviewed other dragons a few more times, even Acolight, though the Fae didn't speak to him as much as he had initially. Still, it didn't matter. The Disillusionists and Hidden Haven forged an alliance against this menacing phantom of light. Whether or not the Pearlsnatcher reappeared was unimportant now. The two clans would continue standing together -- after all, there were other threats out there....But if the Pearlsnatcher did appear, then the Disillusionists and the Hidden Haven would be ready for him.
~ The End
Credits & Notes:
* This piece was written to mark the alliance between Ximena's Hidden and Haven and my clan.
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