Neuman
(#42508384)
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
Familiar
Barkback Boar
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Earth.
Male Pearlcatcher
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.01 m
Wingspan
5.06 m
Weight
492.86 kg
Genetics
Antique
Basic
Basic
Antique
Basic
Basic
Stone
Smirch
Smirch
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
Storyteller "You can't stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes." DETAILS NICKNAME; GENDER; Male PRONOUNS; He/Him ORIENTATIONS; Straight ALIGNMENT; Neutral Evil Familiar  NEED TO TYPE THIS OUT |
Neuman had decided early on that his clan was like the world’s most boring market. They were a modest-sized village in Dragonhome, and though “fast-paced” and “boring” were not often used together, Neuman’s clan could not only be described with these words, they lived them every day. The whole place ran like a neurotic clockwork machine: Dragons would come in from the nearby thoroughfare and set up stalls in the village. They would sell off their stock and trade with the villagers; by the time all their old inventory was gone, new stock had taken its place, and they would leave — only to be replaced by the next cacophonous group of traders. Neuman sighed as he opened his book. Storybooks like these helped keep him grounded, even when his clan’s hectic lifestyle threatened to overwhelm him. He could shut out the din of vendors and hagglers, lose himself in a beautifully-illustrated tale. This one was his favorite, not because it took him far from his village but because of how close it was. It was a tale of the great forest, of spirits striding among the trees.... He lifted his head and looked past the village rooftops. The crowns of the trees rose beyond, beckoning in a way no wares or money ever could. ~ ~ ~ Neuman had always been curious about the local stories and folktales. What irked him was how blasé his fellow villagers were about those same wondrous tales. “Oh, sure, forest spirit; my grandsire used to tell me about ’em,” another dragon would say. And then they’d perk up and rush past Neuman, attracted by the latest “special offer” from the next vendor who’d wandered in.... It was Neuman’s love of the forest that had made him determined to meet the spirits sheltering it. As a child, he’d realized that the cool, quiet forest suited him much more than the village, and he’d often been scolded for sneaking out. He had reached out to travelers, asking for their views on the matter— “A forest spirit? My boy, that’s nonsense. Nothing but the wind in the trees!” “Oh, sure, you could summon one, but don’t you need to be a great magician or somethin’?” “I hear they demand sacrifices...in blood.” This was said with a hiss, followed by a cackle as Neuman leaned back in alarm. “Summoned? Huh. You don’t summon spirits; they go where they please.” The Spiral looked down his snout at Neuman. “And even then they’ll show themselves only at great need. You don’t look like you need anything, though.” Neuman appreciated that. He couldn’t stop thinking about those words, either: they’ll show themselves only at great need. Whose need? Not his, certainly; as the merchant had said, he didn’t need anything. Perhaps it was more like... He’d thought it over, and here and now, in the deep darkness of the woods, he approached a tree. A strong, healthy one, its branches extending low. He reached out, took a deep breath...and snapped off a twig. The sound cracked through the clearing. Birds chittered in alarm. Neuman almost laughed nervously; breaking off that twig was very petty of him, something he had done just to provoke the purported forest spirit into showing itself. “If it does exist,” he thought, looking around. Nothing moved, and he felt a bit bad now. He set the twig upon the ground and walked away. When the sky darkened overhead, he thought that his reckoning had arrived. He was nearly disappointed when thunder rumbled, announcing a thunderstorm’s approach. The disappointment was quickly replaced by unease — in this region, storms moved quickly and could be dangerous in a forest, where lightning struck the trees. He was nearly at his village when the first bolt struck, setting fire to an old, dark pine. As Neuman stared through eyes that still saw spots, the tree shuddered, getting ready to fall. He yanked his gaze away. As he did, he saw a dark patch on the forest floor: A weasel, stunned by the blast, lay panting on the grass. It seemed aware of the danger; its limbs twitched feebly, but it couldn’t rise. Neuman stumbled towards it. He snatched the weasel away and retreated to safety beneath a rock overhang. Behind them, with a final mournful groan, the tree surrendered and came crashing to the ground. “Could’ve gone a lot worse for you. Are you OK, little guy?” The weasel sniffed at his paws. It suddenly realized what was holding it, and it bared its teeth, snapping at Neuman’s face. “Yow! All right, you’re welcome!” Neuman held it out at arm’s length. He managed to resist the urge to fling the little creature away, and it snarled at him again before jetting off across the grass. Neuman wasn’t offended; dragons like him were considered predators by most forest beasts, and the animal had been quite frightened to begin with. Anyway, it looked like he had another problem — it was possible the fire would spread. He peeked out anxiously — and then flinched back with a startled yelp as, with a thunderous crash, the clouds tore open and rain drenched the trees. The fire was immediately quenched. Neuman gasped in the sudden darkness, trying to process the changes. The rain suddenly stopped, and now he was conscious of a new sound: a deep, subterranean thrum rumbling up through the soles of his feet. The trees began to sway.... But there was no wind. It came into focus like a magic-eye picture: A spray of foliage became a leafy mane, vines became antlers, and the deeper shadows merged into mottled scales. And then it stepped out, striding noiselessly from the trees. Neuman watched in breathless awe as the colossal spirit approach the fallen pine and bowed its head in brief remembrance. And then it looked at him, meeting his gaze squarely with piercing green eyes. ~ written by Disillusionist (254672) all edits by other users
TEMPLATE BY XEMRISS #44020;
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