Gabby
(#51885802)
Level 1 Coatl
Familiar
Fluted Pukasloth
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Fire.
Male Coatl
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.06 m
Wingspan
6.97 m
Weight
822.85 kg
Genetics
Stone
Jaguar
Jaguar
Bubblegum
Butterfly
Butterfly
Silver
Stained
Stained
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Coatl
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
7
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
5
MND
6
Biography
| xxxxxx |
The golem workshop was a goldmine of scrap materials. Little glass bits and bobs begging to be turned into exciting novelties. Delicate brass pieces for wind-ups, clockwork. Paper to design blueprints on. Components and wires to give a plushie a voice when hugged (big hit with the hatchlings, those talking toys). Unaffected by day or night or season, the workshop was alive all year ‘round; a machine, with dragonmade horrors creeping around inside its metal belly that didn’t eat, sleep or breathe. And an abnormally fluffy coatl, who was nothing but a pair of clawed, feathered feet with a flickering tail in-between as he rummaged around in a crate for anything he could find. “Metal springs!” his muffled voice exclaimed, echoing a little. “Delightful, just delightful!” He slipped in. Bouncy springs bounced out of the box. One flipped down a flight of metal stairs, one of many in a maze of cord-suspended platforms. A sentry squawker hopped past and promptly chased the slinky. The coatl clawed his way out of the box with the desperation of a soggy cat. Unlike a soggy cat, he was busily stuffing his satchel with as many springs as it could carry. “Stock up, got to stock up,” he muttered to himself hurriedly under his breath. “Throw some paint on them and we’ll have a box of stairwalkers to amuse the little ones at the hatchery… they’ll like that, oh yes, they will…” Minutes later, Gabby trotted less than gracefully down the same flight of stairs, followed by his own cheerful humming and the jingle and jangle of metal springs. His plump satchel thumped at his side, absolutely stuffed with springs. His tail was coiled upright, stiff as a poker, owing to the number of coils he had managed to thread along it like big, clunky bangles. Midway into his retreat of questionable stealth, Gabby was stopped by the sudden appearance of an intimidating spellbound golem, looming in front of him, oozing a purplish pink magic aura from its limbs and lower half. It seemed less than pleased to see him.  
“Good evening!” Gabby beamed, attempting to step around the hulking guardian. A black iron creeper was waiting there; an arachnophobe’s nightmare, boiling the air with the ember-filled furnace within its blackened metal body. Gabby hastily backed away until he thudded into the chestplate of a mistrial minion; identical to the spellbound golem, but in windy green and desaturated yellow. One hit from any of them would toast his feathers, he was sure of it. Even the strongest dragons in the clan, Iblis and Silent, were wary to enter the golem’s workshop in fear of being surrounded – exactly as Gabby was now. “Oh, hello!” he laughed slowly, nervous eyes darting between the three monsters, “I don’t suppose you were going to use those springs for anything, were you?” The golem and the black iron creeper advanced closer. Gabby gulped. In what could only be described as a stroke of divine intervention from Flamecaller or perhaps, Shadowbinder, a familiar metal coil went whizzing horizontally across the gap between them from the direction of the stairs, evidentially having cleared the maze of platforms. This bizarrely random occurrence wasn’t what saved his skin, but the ear-splitting alarm system of the sentry squawker who chased after it was. The terrible sound shook the air, boomed and trembled, sent the monsters and the spring-thieving coatl all running in the same direction, momentarily united by their desperation to escape the horrible ruckus. When Gabby realized this, he simply changed course and ran straight out of the workshop, slipping, stumbling, dropping a spring or two along the way. Then, once in the clear, he remembered that he could fly and promptly did so, leaving the workshop to fade in the foggy distance, receding further with every flap of his downy-soft butterfly wings.
****
Gabby was back the next day, minus the surplus of metal springs. There was no need for the spellbound golem to find him – he found it first, and strolled towards it in quite a friendly manner. Quite a few battles had taken place in the time he was gone; the floor was littered with silver-studded charred husks of metal. A faint whiff of smoke still lingered. The dragons who had been there before him had collapsed the platform system; rains of glowing sparks hissed, flashing like lightning, as monkey wrenches welded together twisted abstract shapes out of metal poles, followed by clatterclog engineers, who broke the hot metal and rewelded the framework of the platforms correctly. “Hello, hello!” hollered Gabby, competing with the roar of automated repairs in action. The overseeing spellbound golem, perhaps confused by this coatl’s casual intrusion and relaxed confidence, stared down at him through the slanted pair of soulless pink glass bars on its helmet. “I know we got off on the wrong foot,” Gabby continued, “but let’s bury the hatchet. Patch things up.” He set down his satchel and rummaged in it. He produced a stick with a string tied to it, dangling a neat bundle of bamboo leaves. A phytocat toy. He wiggled it enticingly in front of the large, intimidating spellbound golem with a wink. “What do you say?”
****
“And that’s the story of how I lost all my tail feathers,” Gabby concluded cheerfully. The hatchlings’ eyes were wide in awe and amazement. A full captive audience of nine, shadowy spirals and pearlcatchers. “What happened next, uncle Gabby?” asked one. “Well, sweetest, I had to wear wooly pants for the rest of the month. Middle of winter, you know. Terribly chilly affair.” “No!” piped up another. “How did you escape then?” “Oh!” he beamed at the little hatchling. Gabby’s orange eyes, bright as the embers of his home flight, seemed to glow a little, just a little, in the dim of the hatchery’s indoor shade. “Uncle Gabby was quite upset at resembling half a plunked turkey, so he annihilated it,” he said casually. “That means he melted the ungrateful machine down to smithereens.” In the wake of this new information, a hushed pause settled over the hatchlings. Gabby clapped his paws together. “So! Who wants to race their stairwalkers down those big steps that lead to Sunbeam Ruins?” “Ooh, me!” “Yay!” | xxxxxx |
Proudly adopted from
Planned Outfit:
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Pretty Lavender Arm Bow: Gabby claims he found it lying around. No one believes him, but no one is certain they want to know where he actually got it. Mage's Peony Bag: The perfect carrying case for Simple Pearly Bracelets: Reference to lore story. Mage's Peony Gloves: Protection while rooting through crates and drawers of unknown, possibly hostile, contents - but still keeps his claws free for blasting apart spellbound golems. Mage's Peony Socks: "A pair of socks. Fancy socks. Magic socks." - item description. Demure Faderose Locket: Another find of questionable origin. Its contents are a complete mystery, but he's never seen without it. Spolier: there's just a random stock picture of a cat inside. He just wears it because it's shiny. Simple Pearly Necklace: Also shiny - and slightly conductive, too. What fun. Desert Dynasty Tail Rings: Another reference to lore story. Enchanter's Cobwebs: Given his favourite pastime is hunting through old junk in the abandoned workshop, Gabby's always got some cobwebs on him. Come to think of it, his fur smells like old Christmas decorations. |
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Exalting Gabby 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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