Chance

This mindless ghoul has ventured far from his home lair (Volrin, #261879) on a mission to protect his necromancer master from harm. If ever you feel the need to exalt, he'd really appreciate it if you could just return him to his home lair, or to the 'Dragons Off To See The World' thread, here. This is not necessary, but he would be very grateful!


Owners I've Had:

Volrin, #261879 (Home Lair)
(put your lair/username here)


Luggage:




History:

The rotting ghoul you see now, standing before you unsteadily as it shifts its weight from bony claw to bony claw, was not always this way. Once, he was a loving and caring mentor named Chance, who took in the lost and struggling Fortune when he was just a hatchling and taught him everything he'd need to know to survive in the world. He sent the Guardian off once he was an adolescent, confident that he was prepared for his life of traveling, but was surprised a few days later when Fortune had turned right around and come back to his teacher! Frantically, the Guardian explained how the pieces had fit together in his brain and he realized that Chance was none other than his Charge, and begged him to leave his home to travel with him; Chance declined at first, not wanting to leave his clan behind, but the Guardian was just too insistent for him to really say no.

The two dragons spent their whole lives travelling together; Chance could go anywhere he wanted with Fortune by his side, knowing that the burly Guardian would fiercely protect him at all costs. He often joked about how he could walk straight through a nest of harpies and come out without a scratch on him, and honestly, he probably wasn't far from the truth. Fortune had grown into a mighty Guardian, and was able to put up a fight against any threat to his Charge, from Beastclans to even the fiercest of feral dragons. However, there was still one ever-present danger that Fortune couldn't protect Chance from, no matter how hard he fought...

Decades had passed since Chance and Fortune had began their travels together, and the effects of aging were beginning to wear down at the now-elderly Imperial. The fur and feathers across his body had lost all of their cyan coloration, having faded into a silvery gray. His soft green eyes were sunken and framed by bushy gray eyebrows, and he had sprouted a scraggly, thick, silver beard. His joints ached, and they popped loudly whenever he stretched; his wings in particular were too stiff and weary to take him any considerable distance anymore. Fortune limped Chance along for as far as he could go, and settled him down in an accommodating Light flight when he was too tired and weak to walk any further.

Fortune was close by Chance's side when the last of his energy finally failed him, and gently held the elder's claws in his own as he passed away.


"Please, Fortune, just let me rest. I don't want to come back."


Many years had passed since Chance had died of old age; he had long been buried in the Mirrorlight Promenade, his grave resting peacefully in the bright sun. However, this peace was not meant to last. A disfigured, mutated Fortune, sprouting plague flowers all across his body and crawling with disease, returned to his mentor's grave with years of training in necromancy under his belt. Close proximity to the Imperial's tomb was all he needed to raise his Charge; his fervent desire to see the Imperial again was so strong that nothing more was necessary. The sun-scorched earth began to stir...

One claw burst up from the dry, flaky soil, and then the other ripped free from the earth, both of them bearing a fleshy pink tone totally unlike the robin blue scales Fortune was expecting. Slavering, bony jaws were next to pull free from the grave, nothing like the soft and friendly face they had used to be. Soon the ghoul had completely unearthed itself from its resting place, covered in voracious maws, atrophied scraps of flesh, and rashes of ruby eyes that peered out, wide and anxious, at the bright world above the soil.

Despite Fortune's best efforts, he had been unable to revive Chance; his body was there, monstrous and vile, but his spirit was still far beyond his reach. The Imperial's mind was dead and empty, save for a single, primal instinct to protect the necromancer that had raised him. This creature truly was not Chance, just a ghoul. The Guardian's fleshy, distorted face twisted into a look of misery as he began to sob.

With no other options, Fortune and his undead companion began their travels once again, as he still refused to give up on his beloved Charge... his Charge that now believed itself to be nothing but an undead minion for the necromancer. The Guardian dearly hopes to find a way to restore the mind and soul of their Charge, and would happily go to the ends of the earth for a cure. Chance just hopes to keep his master safe.


Travel Log:

User: Write about his journey here.

User: Write about his journey here.

User: Write about his journey here.