Fabliau
(#28030806)
Level 1 Bogsneak
Familiar
Band of Companionship
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Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Male Bogsneak
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
0.48 m
Wingspan
0.77 m
Weight
1.79 kg
Genetics
Wine
Poison
Poison
Wine
Toxin
Toxin
Blood
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Bogsneak
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
5
AGI
9
DEF
5
QCK
8
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
 F A B L I A U♫
THE COUNT
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I N F O Gender: Male Mate: Non-exclusive ╰━━━━━━━━╯
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R E L A T I O N S  MATE  MASTER ╰━━━━━━━━╯ |
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please return to awaicu ╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯ Regret and defiance roiled together within the psychometrist. For many moons she had served the Fairies, gathering information for them. She had sullenly followed the orders—then had come the day when she’d learned where the information was going. Knowledge...That golden demon, he craved every last drop of it. She knew not what he wanted it for, but he was a demon; it couldn’t be good.... Anger had made her bold. She’d raged against the Fairies, calling them filth. The King himself had given the orders for her punishment: She was thrown into the tunnels with only the clothes on her back, left to find her way out or... The Mirror shivered. Her gloves were fraying, and at times she stumbled over long-discarded objects. Her abilities were passive; the merest brush was all it took. She trod on a rusting dagger and briefly became a thief scaling the Cathedral walls. He peered through a window, saw the opulence inside....Thirty steps later, her foot snagged on a tattered bandana — and she saw the thief’s final memory, claws closing round him like a cage and hurling him into the catacombs. Where she now was. The psychometrist’s head reeled. She hadn’t eaten or drunk for some time. She staggered against a wall, put out a paw. “Must rest,” she thought wearily, “if only...for a moment...” Her hide tingled. Something beneath was drawing on her power. With bleary eyes she squinted at the wall....She could see marks. A dark stain — dried blood? Or perhaps... ...wine. The drake looked into the glass, and a narrow face was reflected back at him. Large eyes, a wide-mouthed smile...a Spiral. His name was Fabliau, and he was new to this town, but that in itself was not new to him. Spirals, children of the Windsinger, were always on the move, and Fabliau was driven by...He called it his passion, the storm twisting within him. He was widely considered a handsome drake, and a lot of dragons were eager to receive his attention. As for himself, their admiration flattered him, and his attention, well, he was only too glad to give it to them in return...! This didn’t sit well with some other dragons, and that was why he was here. He’d angered a Guardian...something or other about his mate. Fabliau wasn’t too troubled by this. Even though the scandal had forced him to flee to a new place, to him it was an opportunity, not a setback. New places presented new challenges, and already he had one. He’d arrived at the end of the harvest season. The town had thrown a party with their specialty, lots of red wine. Despite the warm buzz in his brain, Fabliau had been struck dumb by the dragoness he’d seen. She’d glided through the crowd, and that night, in the town square, she’d glowed with a light of her own. “What is her name?” he asked other dragons. None of them could answer, and in his tipsiness, he chalked it up to shyness or distraction. He missed the stricken looks in their eyes, the uneasy whispers. He had no chance to talk to her, and in the morning she was nowhere to be found. He asked around, of course. “She comes here sometimes,” the farmers replied. “She lives...beyond the woods...” Their voices trailed off. He didn’t hear, didn’t see their anxious expressions: Love is blind, as they say. Titania, that was her name: “Such a remarkable could only belong to a strong and beautiful queen.” That was what he said when he found her. Winter was sinking its teeth into the town, and the forest was shedding its leaves....He’d seen her in the distance, a pale shape within the gloom, and he had looped through the trees towards her. She had turned towards him and smiled to see his admiration. His admiration — as helpless as that of dragons he’d charmed before. Alluring, flirting, reeling them in, only to throw them aside... “A lady as queenly as you...Wouldn’t you like a drake to be your king?” Her lips lifted ever so slightly. A playful grin — and Fabliau froze. A grin like that should’ve delighted him. It meant, “She wants to play with me.” But now he realized... “She wants to play...with me....” Memories flowed through the psychometrist’s mind, a tide of images and sounds. The images became indistinct....She squinted at the wall. The pawprint of blood — if it was blood — trailed off into a smear that descended towards the ground. Still half-immersed in those memories, she followed the trail, sinking down as she did so. There was not much left to pick up. The world was a confused blur of trees melting into walls of unyielding stone. White petals whirled past; the stink of flowers assailed Fabliau’s nostrils. When his senses cleared, he was in a cage: silver bars too bright to gaze at, and so cold they burned. Pale, poisonous behemoths moved beyond. “Have you been unfaithful to me, my Queen?” Fabliau’s eyes widened as he beheld another Imperial: a drake as beautiful as Titania, and just as frigid and haughty. “My dear Oberon,” said Titania — and despite his situation, Fabliau felt a thrill of awe at her voice — “how could you suspect me so?” She moved closer to her mate (but of course she had a mate) and gently caressed his mane. “You think I, the Queen of Faerie, would shamelessly pursue some no-name mortal? My, but he was bold.” She laughed: a soft, sweet sound like the flutter of wings. “How ardent he was, chasing me all the way into the forest!” “is that so?” In Oberon’s steely eyes, Fabliau saw no playfulness or cheer. His charms would not avail him. He could only hope for an opportunity to escape.... “I feel the passion inside you, no-name,” hissed Oberon. “It rushes through your blood.” A pain as cold and sharp as razors burst within Fabliau. He would’ve cried out, but his throat was constricting; he briefly tasted bile. “You think yourself handsome? Desirable? A miserable worm who still smells of wine...It’s not passion that drives you, it’s thirst. And you’ve given into it again and again....” Fabliau writhed in silent agony. Oberon stood over him now, peering into the cage. His voice was stern, but his face...the look on his face... “What is your name?” “Fabli...” He never finished saying it. The last syllable left his throat as a screech, and the world began to dissolve like acid eating through cloth. Oberon’s face was a black-blotched mess now, being overtaken by darkness. “What a shame. Your honeyed words, your handsome face...gone. All gone. But do not say that I’m an unjust monarch. Those faces you enjoy looking at so much...Let them disappear, too.” Fabliau screamed again. His voice was gone now. Everything was gone. He felt his body shrinking, cracking and twisting as it was forced into a new shape. The last traces of vision fled as Oberon’s face was mercifully erased from view.... “No,” he realized, “he has no mercy.” For now Fabliau felt his mind buckling under the same insidious curse that had stripped away his voice, vision, shape...and senses. Just as the last thing he’d seen had been Oberon’s face, so his last coherent memory was of the Fairy King: the Imperial looming over him, pronouncing a harsh judgment — and smiling pleasantly, almost gleefully, all the while. “He wasn’t angry at Titania. Not one bit. He wasn’t mad that it happened. He wanted it to happen. He wanted...a reason...to hurt somebody....” The psychometrist lowered her paw. She was exhausted....Viewing the memories had drained her, and she could go no farther. Not that there was anywhere left to go. She had followed the memories this far because she’d hoped she would find an ally at the end, but there was nothing. Only the cruelty of the fairies and then darkness closing in — the same situation she was in now. So when she heard the scuttling noise, saw the shrunken drake slither out of the darkness, she didn’t fight back. She sat still and closed her eyes. “He was a lover of other dragons once. Perhaps he will be gentle.” Fabliau normally wasn’t, but because his prey stayed still, it was quick and painless. His fangs gleamed, razor-sharp, before he sank them into the Mirror’s neck. The psychometrist thought his bite felt almost like a kiss. All things considered, it wasn’t a bad way to go. Bit by bit, the world left her, too: her sight, her voice, her senses...and finally, her life. ~ written by Disillusionist (254672) all edits by other users Lore Notes: - Used to be a Spiral who tried flirting with the fairy queen. - Fairy king Oberon was enraged and cursed him, transforming him into a vampire - Locked in the labyrinth of tunnels below the Cathedral as a prisoner of the fairies - Blind and uses echolocation and thermal sensing to navigate/find prey. - Skin is highly sensitive to light and burns on contact - The fairies dump dragons they want to dispose of into the labyrinth to be devoured - Fabliau is super tiny, but attacks like the rabbit from monty python.
Lore written by Disillusionist
Layout by Kintsy
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I N V E N T O R Y
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