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SporkLord: Dragon Lair » Kvatyr
Level 25
Wildclaw Female
Oct 13, 2014 (4 years)
Stats Growth
PrimaryBlack Cherub
SecondaryWhite Toxin
TertiarySand Basic
Eye TypePlague Common
Energy: 47 / 50
Apparel & Skins
Mother of the Madness

You brought this on yourself. There's no way around that. The misery before you is of your creation. It could've all been avoided if only you hadn't been so stubborn. If only you didn't keep being so stubborn. Conformity will bring your freedom. But is it really freedom if you must conform to attain it? No. Freedom is a paradox to you. The world they offer is far from free. Why should you try to escape when everything on the other side of these bars is a lie? This notion seems alien to them and if what they say is true, if you're really as insane is they say, then so be it. That doesn't matter to you anymore.

Your name is Kvatyr. Many years ago you were the strong and respected leader of this clan. You even founded this clan. That was until the doctors arrived. You fell for it. You let them take your clan from you. You'll never forgive yourself for your ignorance and being blinded by Vinten's charm. Any positive emotions you may have once harbored for him are long gone. The mere mention of his name leaves a bitter taste in your mouth now. You hate even more that he is the father of your daughter, Velte. You love her dearly, though she doesn't return the sentiment. Your imprisonment and unwillingness to change has driven you away from almost everyone you thought you knew.

Your current situation of near solitary confinement in a small cage, chained down, and left to waste away would normally indicate numerous horrid crimes, but you have only one. For years you went on unnoticed. You were, and still are, a cannibal.

It started with a food shortage. You'd lost a few clan members to hunger and Mortos had grown too weak to take care the bodies. Out of desperation for food and pure curiosity you made them disappear. For the duration of the shortage you took to hunting small and weak dragons unfortunate enough to be in the area, but even after the shortage passed you kept up the hunt. A last stitch attempt to survive had turned to an addiction and, eventually, a dependency. You refused to eat any other meat and even now, unable to move, with nothing but what you are provided, you will not eat.

Vinten had you locked away not long after you accidentally confessed to him. His failed attempts at medicating you and your multiple failed attacks on him had left him with no other choice but to condition you. You still remember what he said when you woke up in here. If you ate what you were brought and treated the guards with respect, then your chains would gradually be loosened and you'd be set free. You scoffed at the idea and vowed to destroy him if you ever made it out.

He made your sins public and you are now only fully respected by Ragnarok and Mortos, the latter of whom sneaks you real food from time to time out of disagreement with your treatment. The Nochnyr by your cage was meant to serve as a constant monitor. Unbeknownst to everyone else, you learned to communicate with him and he has agreed to stop actually monitoring you. Either that or you've been imagining his conversation and he's just gotten bored of doing his job. Your monologues about what freedom really is echo throughout the caravan on occasion and Mortos seems to have taken a liking to it, bringing more food and discreetly visiting to talk philosophy. Things are looking up. You can smell revolution and the coming anarchy.

At this point, you've stopped caring about pretty much everything, though you do your best to not let it get to you too much and become much more nonchalant to Mortos. After all, nowadays you only have an audience of one.

It is done. Vinten is dead. You are finally free.

Finally free to hunt.


Art by SilverPhoenix


For Draw Your Lair Challenge

Artist's rendition of imprisonment. Phoatlshopped by FlufferLover.


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