Entropy
(#41915752)
Level 1 Skydancer
Familiar
Cryptic Cameo
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 49/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Male Skydancer
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.79 m
Wingspan
3.75 m
Weight
680.26 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Skink
Skink
Obsidian
Alloy
Alloy
Phthalo
Stained
Stained
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
 Chaos Friend |
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[Role]
▬▬▬▬▬▬ [> Skink > Stained > Alloy] Entropy is Chaos' unlikely best friend, who couldn't be more different personality-wise. He's serious and focused, talking little and seeing much. He fights with poisoned claws and weapons, but is unable to use any kind of magic at all. He's determined to not let that hinder him in anything, but it's not always easy. Tempest Trials |
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“Then I shall guide you to the Land of Light, my new and somber friend! Say, it’s a bit dark, but...is there a black cloud following you?”
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Chaos and Entropy
▬▬▬▬▬▬ Dawn. The sun pierced the thin cloud cover easily enough, but it had trouble breaking through the black mist that always surrounded Entropy. The mist hadn’t ebbed one bit since he’d acquired it, and neither had his clanmates’ wariness of it. As he passed them on the way to get supplies, they whispered uneasily. He could see the nervous gleam in their eyes. “Look lively, everyone; you’ll be rid of me soon,” Entropy thought wryly. He would be going on a journey....It promised to be long. He didn’t know exactly where he was going yet. “I’m leaving now,” he told his aunt later on. “I’ll probably be in the Sunbeam Ruins for some months.” She nodded rather stiffly. “You are coming back, aren’t you?” she asked. There wasn’t much concern on her face, but then, there never really was. There was instead that carefully searching look—as though she hoped that, if she stared long enough, the secrets of Entropy’s past would come to light. “Same, Auntie. Same.” Out loud, he answered, “Yes, ma’am. Perhaps the Light mages can dispel this mist—” “Yes, yes, I know.” And she turned back to her work. Entropy left his clan that morning. He was indeed heading northeast, but not towards the Sunbeam Ruins. His destination was instead the Scarred Wasteland, to learn more about the facility where he’d spent part of his childhood. Where his parents had perished...Hopefully he’d be able to learn about his past. ~ ~ ~ Entropy’s memories of the facility were few and fleeting. He had come there together with his parents; he’d been a very small child then. That was when he had been...normal.... 
He remembered the facility’s leader: a middle-aged Mirror. Extra fins on his head and neck hinted at a past as a different breed, perhaps a Bogsneak or Guardian. The Skydancer still shuddered inwardly when he remembered their first meeting. The way the strange drake’s eyes had lit upon him, seeing beyond Entropy to possibilities both stellar and abominable. His parents had been only too eager to earn the facility leader’s favor. In the intervening years, he’d picked up hints from his clan, how his mother and father had been traitors to the gods. How the heretics who’d run the facility had similarly been vile apostates who’d flouted the gods’ laws. They’d dared twist the bodies bestowed upon them, performing vile modifications upon the dragons imprisoned in their halls. There’d been no limit to their depravity! They’d even preyed on children.... Entropy recalled the other children at the facility. He’d been luckier; since his parents had become a part of the project, he’d remained in their care. Their accommodations had been somewhat more pleasant. There were...tests they’d run on him. Things with magic, things with chemicals. Some of these had been unpleasant. But at least at the end of the day there’d been a comfortable room and good food to look forward to....Not so for most other children who’d been brought to the facility. Kidnapped or sold, perhaps; they’d never had any parents with them. Fleeting glimpses through enchanted barriers: the Coatl who hummed nonstop, his gaze fixed on nothing at all...the adolescent Guardian smashing feverishly against the walls...the scarlet Pearlcatcher, motes of light swirling beneath his skin...the Spiral tied up in a stiff, unmoving knot... Gone now, all gone. Just like his parents. Entropy couldn’t recall much about the day the project had ended. He was grateful for that: the scraps of information and memory that remained to him told him that it had been brutal. Some of the researchers had disagreed with the leader. Perhaps they’d been recruited with lies, or become unable to stomach what was going on. First there’d been hard words, then they’d come to blows. And like a fire, the struggle had spread throughout the facility. It had consumed so much: research, magic...the researchers themselves, including Entropy’s parents...even the test subjects, from the eggs to the elders. Tormentor and tormented alike. The days that had followed had been hazy, mercifully so. Then his uncle’s face swam into his memory like a ship piercing the fog. Entropy remembered the prayers he’d muttered, asking the gods to deliver them from what had happened here. He remembered his aunt looking beyond them, her face blank and disbelieving. They had taken him back to their clan. Though he hadn’t been injured in the catastrophe, he hadn’t escaped the facility unscathed: one of the “tests” had resulted in a thick black mist wafting around his wings, always following him about. It was visible proof that he’d been tainted by those heretics, and his clan had performed rituals to suppress the “corruption” they were sure had taken root inside him. They’d been unable to get rid of the mist, but they had managed to seal all of Entropy’s magic. They seemed to believe that that made him safe—enough for them to keep him in the clan. Still, their treatment of him, while civil, had been distant. There’d always been an invisible wall between Entropy and everybody else, acknowledgment that he was irrevocably different from them. That sense of otherness, of knowing that he would never really belong, was what pushed him, many years later, to try locating the facility. ~ ~ ~ Entropy held out some coins, but the ferrydrake waved them away. “Put them over there! I don’t want your filthy diseases!” she snarled. “Even when I’m in disguise, I’m an outcast,” the Skydancer thought moodily as he disembarked from the barge. The black mist followed him—during his travels, he’d explained that he was a weather mage whose spells had malfunctioned. Most dragons bought it, but the ferrydrake, being Plagueborn, obviously had an eye for afflictions. Here in the Scarred Wasteland, Entropy could travel freely, asking about the facility and its tenants. It had been such an enormous disaster; surely someone would know... It was easier thought than done. While many dragons seemed willing to help, their answers were unsatisfying. “Facility? Here? Go back across the border, sirrah; there’re lots of crazy scientists in Arcane.” “You’re looking for researchers? Why not try Scarletsky Hospital? They have plenty of laboratories...No, they’ve never exploded. Where did you get that idea?” “An explosion? Beg pardon, sir, but this is the Scarred Wasteland. Perhaps you’ll find your answers in the Ashfall Waste.” Entropy grew more suspicious as the days passed. The Wasteland drakes’ replies were a little too disbelieving, too detailed—always directing him to places that were too different, if not in other Flights entirely. “So perhaps I should go...” Deeper into the Wasteland, towards the boiling Wyrmwound. Entropy could protect himself: He had his poisoned blades, and he could also use his claws, which were similarly poison-tipped. The deeper into the Wasteland he traveled, the greater the threats. Hostile clans, ravenous creatures, spells with lives of their own...There were times when he had to flee. He couldn’t use magic at all, and the black mist, no matter how foreboding it looked, seemed to be just that: a cloud of gas. It was about as much protection as a wet paper shield. Finding information about the facility would’ve made the trials worth it, but he didn’t. Everyone here was as evasive as the people he’d met before. The few “leads” he did follow up on proved to be red herrings: a college of bickering mages, a group of scientists surveying plant life, a grove blackened by a recent forest fire... The thought of returning to his cold but safe clan became more appealing. He decided that the next rumor he investigated would also be the last: about a Talonok graveyard, long abandoned, now used as a meeting place by Shade cultists. Entropy didn’t even know why he thought Shade cults could help him with his past. It was probably all his clanmates’ muttering about the researchers’ “blasphemy” and “defying the gods”. If this trip, too, came to nothing, then he would call it quits. “But not permanently,” he vowed. He rest in his clan for some time, make sure he was better-prepared. Then he would return here, and his search would continue. ~ ~ ~ The abandoned graveyard had been a disappointment. Chaos had come looking for Shade cultists; there were rumors that they’d been meeting here. But as soon as he’d arrived, he’d realized that the rumors couldn’t have been true, because to begin with, the graveyard was far from abandoned. “The lies were first spread by a dragon clan our ancestors warred with,” the flock matriarch croaked wearily. “They failed to exterminate us, and to cover their shame, they declared that we were Shade-taken. We have had to deal with travelers accosting us....We would move, but these are our ancestral grounds.” It would be best if he left soon. Chaos nodded sympathetically and decided to take the hint. Nightfall. Most dragons chose not to travel after dark, but Chaos had been born here...probably. According to the dragons of Clawrift, he had been found in the Wasteland as a hatchling. Badly burned, as if by a fire—perhaps a magical explosion, for back then, he’d had motes of light winking faintly under his skin. He had been wandering, alone and hungry and injured. Scared, however—no one could truly say. He’d been an adventurous child even then; his curiosity had compelled him to keep going, no matter the pain. The Clawrift dragons had taken him home, and he had healed, grown to adulthood in the clan. He’d shed the burnt scales, and the motes of light had erupted from his sloughed hide, swirling around him like fireflies. His sense of adventure hadn’t dwindled one bit, which was why he now faced the darkness with eagerness rather than dread. Why, there could be wonders hiding out there! Cryptids, spirits, even an actual Shade cult...He could investigate any of those. It would be amazing! As he neared the graveyard gate, however, he paused. He could hear voices...Something was wrong. “There’s a Shade cult here. I was told.” The voice lacked a Talonok’s rasp; it obviously belonged to a dragon. Chaos could barely see him: He was so dark, he blended in with the night. The Talonok guards were clearly visible, however, moving agitatedly around the stranger. They brandished weapons, torches. “You’re all alike,” one of them spat. “You keep intruding onto our sacred ground and trampling our ancestors’ graves. You all say you’re against the Shade, but it’s lies, excuses to wage war against us all over again!” “You don’t understand, you...” The Skydancer trailed off in resignation. Chaos saw an ominous glint as he drew a short, sharp knife. The Talonok saw it, too, and they hissed alarmingly. And Chaos called, “Whoa there! It’s been a hot day and I know we’re all tired, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves!” Both the Talonok and the dragon stopped and stared at him. The guard leader spoke first: “You deal with this, then. It’s one of your people. You wyrms.” He turned away and began cawing orders to his squad. Chaos gripped the Skydancer’s arm firmly and led him aside. “Best put that away, pal. Those feathered friends of ours, boy howdy, do they pack a mean wallop when they’re roused.” “Who are you?” “Name’s Chaos.” And the Pearlcatcher winked. “Or you can call me, I dunno, ‘Lifesaver’ or something, as, y’know, thanks for savin’ your hide.” 
The Skydancer stared at him for a long, solid moment. And then with a hiss, the knife went back into its sheath. “Thank you,” he muttered at last. “My name is Entropy. I’m here because I was following rumors of a Shade cult—” “Hah! You and me both, brother. Unfortunately, the Talonok are pretty tired of it. I’ve spent the last few days here, and lemme tell you, I’m as disappointed as you are. Well, maybe that’s not the right word; they’re nice folks.” And Chaos stamped one hind foot. “But it would’ve been so cool to have a new mystery to investigate...” As the Pearlcatcher rambled, Entropy looked at him. There was something familiar about that scarlet face. Red eyes and an uneasy grin... “Have we met before?” Chaos shrugged. “Dunno. But then, I meet a lot of people. Well, now that we’ve cleared things up, I guess you could spend the night here. Or wait, the flock might not be happy ’bout that. Hmm...You got a place to go, friend?” Entropy snapped back to attention—and as he did, the familiar weight of disappointment settled onto him. This “Shade cult” had been another a baseless rumor. He would head home now, regroup before relaunching his search. But even so... “Not really.” He wasn’t sure why he told Chaos that, but as soon as he did, he knew it was the right thing to say. “Yeah, you didn’t exactly make friends here. Did you just charge at them earlier? No wonder they’ve got their dander up. Say...” And, as quickly as he spoke, Chaos’ train of thought switched tracks. “Where’re you headed? We can get word to your clan; are you from the Southern Icefield? You’ve got those shiny eyes.” “There’s no need to send a message to my clan,” Entropy answered steadily. He remembered his aunt asking if he would come back...but also the suspicious look she’d given him, had been giving him all throughout his life. The sidelong glances, the wary whispers, the talk of him being unnaturally corrupted... “Huh...I see how it is.” Entropy thought that the Pearlcatcher would turn away. His clanmates often did that: asked questions, needled him for answers, then turned away with that same dismissive “huh” the moment they’d grown tired of him. So Entropy was very surprised when Chaos instead said, “Since you haven’t got a place to crash, you wanna tag along with me?” The question was so unexpected that the Skydancer could only blurt, “Where?” “I’m from the Sunbeam Ruins.” Chaos pulled a face. “I wanna stay out here longer, but I’m running outta food. And, well, it’s the Scarred Wasteland; ‘s not like it’s overflowing with fruits and veggies.” “I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” Entropy said slowly. Inside, he was telling himself, “The Light dragons are seekers of truth; I may find helpful information in the Sunbeam Ruins.” It was a flimsy excuse... But he wasn’t going back to his frigid, unwelcoming clan, and it seemed right and true to him. They’d never cared about him; Entropy wasn’t going to lie about that. No, after his fruitless search, he was tired of lies. Chaos bowed theatrically. “Then I shall guide you to the Land of Light, my new and somber friend! Say, it’s a bit dark, but...is there a black cloud following you?” “Here it comes,” Entropy thought gloomily. But before he could reply, Chaos’ huge grin lit up the night. “Aww, heck, that’s so awesome! Can it shade you from the rain and sun? Does it rain on you?” Despite the barrage of questions, Entropy wasn’t entirely displeased. It would be nice to travel with someone who, for once, wasn’t treating him like an omen of doom. And also, there was that vague sense of familiarity: scarlet scales, a faint glow...and then he had to focus on Chaos’ next question and the impression, like so many scraps from his childhood, disappeared into oblivion...for now. ~ written by Disillusionist (254672) all edits by other users |
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Art by MidNightTiger
Bio layout by Poisonedpaper
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