Paxuzu
(#49629316)
Level 1 Spiral
Familiar
Highreach Bonepicker
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Spiral
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.42 m
Wingspan
3.36 m
Weight
89.35 kg
Genetics
Sand
Cherub
Cherub
Tan
Alloy
Alloy
Latte
Opal
Opal
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Spiral
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
5
AGI
9
DEF
5
QCK
8
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
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_ _ P A X U Z U the disgraced god wry - conceited - sardonic | xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx |
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Perhaps the Eleven are the oldest and most terrible of gods, but they are not the only ones. Many small gods exist separate from them. In that sense, Paxuzu is no anomaly, simply a stray godling of knowledge and wish-granting, one among the many smaller deities and spirits that roam this world. He lay beneath the desert, hidden inside a dark labyrinth of caves that lead to a temple carved from the rock. Within he is shackled to the earth for his crimes against dragonkind, for the forbidden knowledge he whispered like poisoned honey to the foolish and ambitious. Paxuzu in his past was more demon than god—though let it be known that Paxuzu himself cares little for the distinction, though he prefers to be referred to as a god due to the greater level of respect the title receives. He committed no great evils. He served dragons exactly what they prayed to him for. And yet, he was chained and sealed away, the greatest punishment that the dragons could conceive at the time. Paxuzu howled and writhed against his restraints the first few years of his imprisonment. He was rageful. He was mad. His crazed anger poisoned the sands so that not even the desert fauna stepped within a 100 mile radius of his tomb. But as the centuries passed, he eventually came to terms with his position. With no dragons he cannot gain more power, and with no freedom he cannot see the world. His second desire has manifested on his skin as roving eyes, dotting his wings; his first as a subtle compulsion radiating from his prison, luring adventurous dragons to him, so that they might provide him the power he will need to destroy his cage.
∗ .✧' ✴ '✧. ∗
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x
coding by Taytenn#339149________________________
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THE SEALING OF PAXUZU
His wings. They were cutting his wings. Paxuzu writhed under the restraints, not even able to shriek the full extent of his anguish and rage around the muzzle they’d strapped to him. It was tethered to the stone platform beneath him, carved as a place for him to listen to petitioners when they journeyed to his temple, now perverted into a butcher’s stone counter. With iron strengthened through magic, all the chains clamped to him were impossible to break free from. Shackles, tightly constricting his too physical body, were placed two widths apart along the whole of his form and chained closely to the ground. And his form was long. As long as he’d dared to make it. He was endless. He was eternity. He was knowledge. He was being dismembered. “Don’t give the demon reprieve!” a voice yelled over the cacophony of dragons that swarmed his body, like ants to the carcass. “Saw off every bit of membrane you find, remove the blight’s pale imitation of our boned structure. Make it impossible to reform them!” They tore through the wing, through the muscle, through his carefully constructed ligaments and bone and poured some unholy liquid they’d acquired as they went, preventing his body from rebuilding the lost material. It ate and cauterized his hallowed flesh bit by little bit, sizzling with a sickening scent, like sweets set to roast on the hot pan. Teams of dragons repeated this process on four of his six wings, only stopping as they reached where the extremities began and the main limb ended. His middle wings, unbound though not for lack of trying, flapped frantically, sending gusts of air and slowing the process, but failing to stop it. His eyes were splashed with a similar treatment, boiling as the oil dissolved the soft tissue, tissue he’d painstakingly constructed after admiring the jewel-like quality he’d seen in some eyes. He shrieked and hissed and cursed. “I’ll kill you!” he tried to shout. “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you! A thousand times over I’ll strip you down to your spine and rebuild you and tear you apart again,” he swore. “Your children, your children’s children, your whole lineage damned!” “Quite the bluster from your snake’s tongue, demon,” the imperial positioned just in front of his snout said, watching the proceedings like how one might watch the construction of a boat, or an important building, looking down his snout at Paxuzu. Pelagus, his mind whispered to him. The dragon was an imposing figure to those who took note of such things. His mane was full despite the years under his wing, his eyes a sharp and cold blue. The robes he wore were indicative of high social status, his face set in a permanent scowl. A dragon used to power, who wore it as easily as one wore their own hide. A dragon who bore his mark and had Knowledge, though it weighed on him unnaturally, aging him and sobering him. He wanted so desperately to snap that solemn look up between his teeth and hold it there so the pathetic infuriating maddening wyrm could feel the horror of it and know his soul to be beyond salvation, cursed the moment he dared raise a hand against divinity. “You strike no fear in me,” the dragon continued without pause. “When our work is finished, your plague will be forgotten to time.” “I am forever,” Paxuzu roared, the earth quaking under his rage, but the dragon hardly seemed to notice beyond a tightening of his furred brow. Didn’t even have the good manners to reply to the god he chained and maimed. As his eyes reformed (try as they might, they would never take his vision away; he was vision.), he focused all three of them on the blasphemous imperial. Paxuzu saw his childhood, his adolescence, his young adulthood, and Knew. “Perhaps you will not hear threats, but you will hear your future, Pelagus,” Paxuzu spat, his eyes widening to see more than the dragon’s past, but his future, the probabilities, and the magic he wove through his words and at his captor’s fate. “You know this torture to be an indulgence of your dark nature, not the righteous cause you’ve fooled these pawns into believing. You are vengeful. You are bloodthirsty. Your facade does not fool the gods and they will not be merciful upon your death. Your kin will be forever cursed to bear your burden, dreams of gore and horror tearing at their heels and consuming them. They too will breed, and they too will pass on your terrible bloodlust!” The dragon grit his teeth. “Hold your tongue.” “Your hatchlings’ souls were forfeit the moment your ***** laid that cursed clutch!” he howled. “Silence!” the dragon upended the whole jug of the oil over Paxuzu’s face and he screamed as he felt the burn travel down his snout, his cheeks, his eyes again. His flesh sought to fix the damage with his constantly depleting reserves of energy, but against this depraved concoction, it couldn’t repair everything. Smoke rose up in plumes and choked him, and, to his pleasure, choked the dragon before him as well. He coughed through it all. “Temper, temper,” he rasped. “What will you do with the little ones, I wonder?” It was worth it for the rage on his face. He moved to empty more of the jug on Paxuzu, but there was no more of it left. The other dragons could not spare it, so focused on tearing apart his body that they hadn’t noticed their leader’s lapse in judgment. He could feel his wings dissolve into nothing, as though he’d never had the appendages in the first place, all but the main pair at his spine now completely useless for flight, were he mortal. “You are juvenile disgrace to the very concept of divinity,” Pelagus growled. “What good and moral god would give children visions of war? What else but a cruel and capricious monster would force night terrors upon entire communities of dragons?” “They wished for it!” “They did not know what they wished for!” he roared. “Too many have trusted you to do right by them only to come away with cursed minds!” “I am above dragon’s arbitrary rules and morals! I am Paxuzu! I Know! I See! I share my Knowing for little more than a pittance!” They were fair and just, his contracts! All trades had proper consideration, every exchange observed the intelligence of the beneficiary. He was the tool, the vector through which dragons were punished for their hubris and the humble given strength beyond measure. The black hearts of dragons were to blame, not him! “Then, Paxuzu, face your judgment with the nobility of a being above dragons,” he rumbled and raised his wings high. The powerful downstroke sent small bits of dirt and debris flying to Paxuzu’s face, a petty thing that only a mortal would think to do. “You dare carry my mark and not worship me 'til your dying breath,” he hissed at the retreating figure. His arms and legs burned, his holy blood soaked the stone, manacles had been placed on his wrists and ankles. “Your Sight will be forever corrupted by your sacrilege.” Whether the imperial heard him or not (he did, Paxuzu knew he did, and he knew the imperial would never escape it), it did not show on his face as he climbed higher into the air. He spoke words to validate the torture. He rallied his troops under his wing. Paxuzu paid it no mind. He already knew what was coming, had known it even as he rebelled against it. The world shook. The god gave his jailer a final warning. “You might hide this act under flowered language and moral pretense, but I Know you. You will thirst for more, and it will destroy all you’ve built.” The earth swallowed him. | __________ |
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Exalting Paxuzu to the service of the Shadowbinder will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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