Ambrosia
(#38998894)
Level 1 Imperial
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Energy: 0/50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
26.7 m
Wingspan
20.25 m
Weight
8804.88 kg
Genetics
Pearl
Petals
Petals
White
Shimmer
Shimmer
Pearl
Opal
Opal
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
Ambrosia is a priest who came as a hatchling with two others to Clan Strangest. No dragon knows how he had gotten there, why he was there, and why he could speak hundreds of languages. Unfortunately, as he grew, he became unhinged. He once screamed for 10 hours straight about how Mirrors were the devil and Pearlcatchers should be punished in...certain ways. Unfortunately again, he acted on these feelings, burning multiple Pearlcatchers alive in front of tens of hundreds of his followers Silent Hill style. No-one knows of his actions except his followers.
The dragoness sat still in her chair, staring at the floor. The massive pink Imperial had tried everything he could think of to get her to look up, but still she refused. She had rough shards of gem permanently attached to her feathers and her skin, the tiniest bits cornering her buttercup-coloured eyes like small, golden predators. Her feathers were hued in shades of orange and green, her skin coloured from pearly white to grey. She’d initially worn small bits of silver jewellery, but those were long gone into the depths of the insane Imperial’s pockets.
“It’s a shame, really,” Ambrosia hissed, a cruel smile forming on his lips. “You won’t witness the look on my face when I get to kill you.”
“Oh, what a shame indeed,” the Coatl replied with a hint of sarcasm.
Ambrosia grunted half-heartedly. The Coatl was becoming a significant irritation rather quickly. Too quickly for his liking.
“You could always beg for mercy,” he began. “Grovel at my feet and beg for your life, and then maybe-”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“I want you to do something! I want you to scream, to plead, to cry out! Why are you so CALM?”
“Because you’re predictable?” The Coatl female finally raised her head and looked him dead in the eye with golden ovals that couldn’t care less about what was going to happen. Infuriating piece of work, he snarled internally.
“How, my dear, am I predictable?” he snapped.
“Oh, I don’t know. You follow the Plaguebringer, for instance? The queen of all death?”
Ambrosia stared at her. “How did you find out?”
“It’s quite obvious,” she remarked, looking over at the iron door behind the Imperial. He moved slightly to cover her view of the potential escape route. “The blood, the manky dungeon. The clothes. It’s all in plain sight.”
He just laughed. “You’re starting to sound a lot like someone I once knew.”
“Who, the detective?”
“Yes.”
“I should hope so, I used to work with him.”
“Annoying brat, isn’t he?” Ambrosia cooed, nearing closer to the peach stained dragoness.
The Coatl just cocked her head, looking at him dead in the eye yet again. Thinking. “Nope,” she finally said, “not really. He was actually rather funny. Much more of an egotistical comedian than you.”
The Pearl Imperial just raised an eyebrow in scornful questioning. “Seriously?”
“Yep!”
Ambrosia sighed a heaving sigh, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and noting how the wood was starting to rot with the dampness of sick-smelling liquid. He made a small mental note to clean it out before urging his eyes to look at the Coatl before him.
“What your name?” he asked, seemingly startling her with the unexpected question.
“Small talker, are you?”
“Just answer it.”
“Nagrarok.”
A cruel, small smile curled at Ambrosia’s lips as he started to step away from the Coatl – Nagrarok. An ancient warrior who had led the infamous Zenyati into war with the Chimera. Interesting.
“Goodbye, Nagrarok,” he said simply, leaving the room.
And with that, the female starting screaming. His first job was done.
---
A sudden pounding came at the door, making the Imperial jump before the mirror in his room. He’d been trying to sort out his tussled mane of hair, and been trying to de-crease his clothes before making his speech to his ever-loyal followers. His rose quartz eyes had stared back at him for the longest time, shadowed with the lives he had taken already. The smallest bit of his brain – his conscience – was screaming at him not to make this speech. Not to take any more lives. Yet it was such a small voice that it never seemed to get through to him. It was like a little squeaking noise in the back of his head. Unimportant.
“Sire, your audience awaits you,” a familiar voice called from the other side of the door.
“Thank you, Lalotai,” Ambrosia called back. “I’ll be out soon!”
The Opal-speckled Imp heard his brother-in-arms walk away heavily and waited until he heard the wooden door at the end of the hall clang shut and lock, waited for silence to fall upon the hall, before turning back to the dusty mirror before him. He could see a portrait of him and his family - Lalotai, Halokai and Demeter - and every single one of them was staring into the back of his skull.
His sister, poor Imperial, didn't last long. She went against her elder, much stronger brothers and tried to tear their operation apart. Tried to get that disgusting detective involved. Ambrosia almost laughed at the memory; his sister-in-arms had never been the brightest dragoness. He had to admire her spirit, though.
With a sigh, he smoothed down a few stray strands in his mane and stepped out into the cold and damp corridor of the Council's arena. The walls were draped with vines and old, tattered flags with the emblem of the family who used to run this place. Moss and odd flowers sprouted up from the ground beneath his roughened paws, swaying in the cold breeze of the Tundra, and a scratty red carpet had slithered its way up to the podium, where he would speak. Most would look for a grand hall or a center to speak in, but all the Pearl Imperial needed was to send out a code - "Inferior" - and they all knew where to go.
Ambrosia closed the half-rotten door behind him and made sure to flick his robe backwards in an attempt to look especially dramatic. After all, today was going to be a great day, and he wanted to look his absolute best for such an occasion. His feet brushed leaves as he swept towards a ragged, purple curtain waving him towards the podium. His podium.
He waved away the curtain with a large, torn and opal-flecked wing and saw just how many of his followers had turned up. His brother Lalotai was stood beside the podium itself, holding the Council's emblem. Holokai was tying up something down the stage, hissing to himself as the knot became harder and harder to do, and over 300 dragons and dragonesses were gathered in the courtyard before the stage. An applause roared in Ambrosia's direction, causing a small, hideously selfish smile to cross his lips as he stood before them all. He let it roll on for a few seconds before sticking up a single paw, silencing them almost immediately.
He cleared his throat loudly before letting his voice echo around the stadium walls. "My dear, ever-faithful followers of the Council," he began. "I thank you for coming tonight to this special event!" Another round of applause before Lalotai takes it upon himself to silence them with a single movement. "I want to remind you, before we begin, that all of the rewards promised to you will come in due time, as our Lady and Saviour will accept the precious offering we have for her today." The crowd of dragons and dragonesses gasped at the words "precious offering", the curiousity obvious in the joint sound. Brilliant.
He moved over to the left, past two Mirrors and a Pearlcatcher, all whimpering solemnly under their breath as he passed them. All of them were bare of apparel, and the Mirror furthest down even had the nerve to try to shrink away from him. He decided, out of sheer disappointment, to snap his jaws at the muttering female, causing her to cry out in shock and fear. It stoked the black flame in his heart to hear such a soft, shriekingly fearsome noise.
As he finally reached the end, applause started drift its way into his ears, cheers and whoops of success joining them soon after. All of the Council hated - severely - the dragon he had managed to find. He'd tried to ruin their operations multiple times and had even swayed his poor sister to his side before her "mysterious" death, and was a personal favourite to torture on Ambrosia's behalf.
"Behold, my loyal followers," he called backwards, dragging the dragon forward to the edge of the wooden pier. "Skulduggery; well known detective, magician, warrior... And soon to be dead!"
The applause was deafening. He absolutely revelled in it.
"You know what I've just noticed about you?" Skulduggery asked, cocking his head. "Your ears. They're massive. And your nose. You look a bit like a goblin."
"Watch your mouth, detective," Holokai growled from behind the pair.
"I won't have one soon enough so I may as well say what I want."
Ambrosia stopped in his train of thought. "You're.. not going to escape?"
"You just murdered my wife in front of me and my daughter's no where to be seen. I haven't exactly got a reason to live, have I?"
Dragons in the crowd gasped as the words spilled out of the detective's mouth. Not at what Ambrosia had done... But at what the detective was saying. He wasn't going to escape.
"Don't know what to do now, do you?" Skulduggery asked sullenly. His ice-white eyes were glossed over with unshed tears at the death of his wife and the disappearance of his daughter. Ambrosia almost felt sorry for the dragon, he had to admit that.
"Admittedly, no. I expected a witty remark by now," Ambrosia said, looking and feeling confused.
The detective just closed his eyes and sighed. "Just get on with it. I want to see her."
A flood of near-sympathy overcame the Imperial for a few seconds before he smiled cruely and decided the best course of action.
"Nah, I'll just torture you instead."
"Wha-why?" he cried out suddenly, pulling against his ties with all his might as he tried to stand.
"Torture. You're not getting what you want that easily. I'd much rather break you first." A vicious smile crossed his lips as he watched the detective's features go from sadness to horror to a cry for help.
This was going to be fun.
---
The detective screamed for days on end as he was whipped, stretched, flogged and everything else in a single cell room. He was often found in the corner, sobbing and praying for his end to come soon. It never did. It'd been almost a week since they found the detective, yet with every passing day he was getting more and more... unlike himself. He'd started muttering words, clicking his tongue at random and stalking around the room, looking at a certain spot for hours and hours. He kept mentioning his daughter's name, Rayne, over and over and over, never once wasting a breath. Even whilst he was crying out from being pulled to the edge of death but never grabbing that sweet relief, Ambrosia could tell he was thinking about her and his wife.
Today, however, the detective was stood in the center of the room, staring at the Imperial with sunken blue eyes. He'd thinned out over the past week, his bones sticking out all over the place like little hills and his facial structure being as sharp as ever.
"Hello, Ambrosia," he cooed as the Imperial entered, staying where he was. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"Hello, detective," was all he replied with.
"Did you know that the Sparrow flies South for the winter?"
Ambrosia discontinued moving towards the stool at the left side of the room and turned to stare at the thinning dragon. "What?"
Skulduggery only scoffed. "Well, that's rather impolite. It's "sorry", not "what"."
"I--"
"Oh, spare me the agony of an apology. It's rather pathetic. Especially since you don't particularly come from a family with much education."
"I wasn't going to apologise," Ambrosia hissed.
"Oh," Skulduggery muttered, cocking his head to the left. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Positive?"
"Skulduggery-"
"100% absolutely, undoubtedly sure?"
"Shut up!"
"Alright."
Ambrosia reached into his silken, white cloak and gripped the handle of a carving knife he'd brought down to try a new way to completely break the detective. Now, though, he just felt like killing off the old fool. He now had no use for the skeletal figure, and his incompetence to ever shut up was getting on the Imperial's nerves. He knew that Skulduggery was looking right at the dagger, but nothing in his face said that he cared. He just went on staring at it, muttering something under his breath. Ambrosia moved a step forward; the Skydancer didn't budge. If anything, he shuffled forward slightly. He wants it to end, desperately. Even though the detective is possibly more unhinged than he is, he still understands the concept of death and the peace it may bring.
Ambrosia handed the knife over to him. "Do it yourself."
"Well, that would be cowardly," Skulduggery replied. "I'd much rather you do it."
"I have more important things to do than to deal with a suicidal skeleton."
"You're just as insane as I am, my friend. You've got nothing else to do." He threw the knife towards the ground. "You do it."
With that, the Imperial swooped down and threw the knife at the Skydancer with all the rage bubbling in his system, hearing it go right through his chest and into his heart. Skulduggery stood there, wide eyed, before slumping to the ground. But that wasn't to be the end.
It was only just the beginning of a long-term rivalry.
LORE by @Ozie
The dragoness sat still in her chair, staring at the floor. The massive pink Imperial had tried everything he could think of to get her to look up, but still she refused. She had rough shards of gem permanently attached to her feathers and her skin, the tiniest bits cornering her buttercup-coloured eyes like small, golden predators. Her feathers were hued in shades of orange and green, her skin coloured from pearly white to grey. She’d initially worn small bits of silver jewellery, but those were long gone into the depths of the insane Imperial’s pockets.
“It’s a shame, really,” Ambrosia hissed, a cruel smile forming on his lips. “You won’t witness the look on my face when I get to kill you.”
“Oh, what a shame indeed,” the Coatl replied with a hint of sarcasm.
Ambrosia grunted half-heartedly. The Coatl was becoming a significant irritation rather quickly. Too quickly for his liking.
“You could always beg for mercy,” he began. “Grovel at my feet and beg for your life, and then maybe-”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“I want you to do something! I want you to scream, to plead, to cry out! Why are you so CALM?”
“Because you’re predictable?” The Coatl female finally raised her head and looked him dead in the eye with golden ovals that couldn’t care less about what was going to happen. Infuriating piece of work, he snarled internally.
“How, my dear, am I predictable?” he snapped.
“Oh, I don’t know. You follow the Plaguebringer, for instance? The queen of all death?”
Ambrosia stared at her. “How did you find out?”
“It’s quite obvious,” she remarked, looking over at the iron door behind the Imperial. He moved slightly to cover her view of the potential escape route. “The blood, the manky dungeon. The clothes. It’s all in plain sight.”
He just laughed. “You’re starting to sound a lot like someone I once knew.”
“Who, the detective?”
“Yes.”
“I should hope so, I used to work with him.”
“Annoying brat, isn’t he?” Ambrosia cooed, nearing closer to the peach stained dragoness.
The Coatl just cocked her head, looking at him dead in the eye yet again. Thinking. “Nope,” she finally said, “not really. He was actually rather funny. Much more of an egotistical comedian than you.”
The Pearl Imperial just raised an eyebrow in scornful questioning. “Seriously?”
“Yep!”
Ambrosia sighed a heaving sigh, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and noting how the wood was starting to rot with the dampness of sick-smelling liquid. He made a small mental note to clean it out before urging his eyes to look at the Coatl before him.
“What your name?” he asked, seemingly startling her with the unexpected question.
“Small talker, are you?”
“Just answer it.”
“Nagrarok.”
A cruel, small smile curled at Ambrosia’s lips as he started to step away from the Coatl – Nagrarok. An ancient warrior who had led the infamous Zenyati into war with the Chimera. Interesting.
“Goodbye, Nagrarok,” he said simply, leaving the room.
And with that, the female starting screaming. His first job was done.
---
A sudden pounding came at the door, making the Imperial jump before the mirror in his room. He’d been trying to sort out his tussled mane of hair, and been trying to de-crease his clothes before making his speech to his ever-loyal followers. His rose quartz eyes had stared back at him for the longest time, shadowed with the lives he had taken already. The smallest bit of his brain – his conscience – was screaming at him not to make this speech. Not to take any more lives. Yet it was such a small voice that it never seemed to get through to him. It was like a little squeaking noise in the back of his head. Unimportant.
“Sire, your audience awaits you,” a familiar voice called from the other side of the door.
“Thank you, Lalotai,” Ambrosia called back. “I’ll be out soon!”
The Opal-speckled Imp heard his brother-in-arms walk away heavily and waited until he heard the wooden door at the end of the hall clang shut and lock, waited for silence to fall upon the hall, before turning back to the dusty mirror before him. He could see a portrait of him and his family - Lalotai, Halokai and Demeter - and every single one of them was staring into the back of his skull.
His sister, poor Imperial, didn't last long. She went against her elder, much stronger brothers and tried to tear their operation apart. Tried to get that disgusting detective involved. Ambrosia almost laughed at the memory; his sister-in-arms had never been the brightest dragoness. He had to admire her spirit, though.
With a sigh, he smoothed down a few stray strands in his mane and stepped out into the cold and damp corridor of the Council's arena. The walls were draped with vines and old, tattered flags with the emblem of the family who used to run this place. Moss and odd flowers sprouted up from the ground beneath his roughened paws, swaying in the cold breeze of the Tundra, and a scratty red carpet had slithered its way up to the podium, where he would speak. Most would look for a grand hall or a center to speak in, but all the Pearl Imperial needed was to send out a code - "Inferior" - and they all knew where to go.
Ambrosia closed the half-rotten door behind him and made sure to flick his robe backwards in an attempt to look especially dramatic. After all, today was going to be a great day, and he wanted to look his absolute best for such an occasion. His feet brushed leaves as he swept towards a ragged, purple curtain waving him towards the podium. His podium.
He waved away the curtain with a large, torn and opal-flecked wing and saw just how many of his followers had turned up. His brother Lalotai was stood beside the podium itself, holding the Council's emblem. Holokai was tying up something down the stage, hissing to himself as the knot became harder and harder to do, and over 300 dragons and dragonesses were gathered in the courtyard before the stage. An applause roared in Ambrosia's direction, causing a small, hideously selfish smile to cross his lips as he stood before them all. He let it roll on for a few seconds before sticking up a single paw, silencing them almost immediately.
He cleared his throat loudly before letting his voice echo around the stadium walls. "My dear, ever-faithful followers of the Council," he began. "I thank you for coming tonight to this special event!" Another round of applause before Lalotai takes it upon himself to silence them with a single movement. "I want to remind you, before we begin, that all of the rewards promised to you will come in due time, as our Lady and Saviour will accept the precious offering we have for her today." The crowd of dragons and dragonesses gasped at the words "precious offering", the curiousity obvious in the joint sound. Brilliant.
He moved over to the left, past two Mirrors and a Pearlcatcher, all whimpering solemnly under their breath as he passed them. All of them were bare of apparel, and the Mirror furthest down even had the nerve to try to shrink away from him. He decided, out of sheer disappointment, to snap his jaws at the muttering female, causing her to cry out in shock and fear. It stoked the black flame in his heart to hear such a soft, shriekingly fearsome noise.
As he finally reached the end, applause started drift its way into his ears, cheers and whoops of success joining them soon after. All of the Council hated - severely - the dragon he had managed to find. He'd tried to ruin their operations multiple times and had even swayed his poor sister to his side before her "mysterious" death, and was a personal favourite to torture on Ambrosia's behalf.
"Behold, my loyal followers," he called backwards, dragging the dragon forward to the edge of the wooden pier. "Skulduggery; well known detective, magician, warrior... And soon to be dead!"
The applause was deafening. He absolutely revelled in it.
"You know what I've just noticed about you?" Skulduggery asked, cocking his head. "Your ears. They're massive. And your nose. You look a bit like a goblin."
"Watch your mouth, detective," Holokai growled from behind the pair.
"I won't have one soon enough so I may as well say what I want."
Ambrosia stopped in his train of thought. "You're.. not going to escape?"
"You just murdered my wife in front of me and my daughter's no where to be seen. I haven't exactly got a reason to live, have I?"
Dragons in the crowd gasped as the words spilled out of the detective's mouth. Not at what Ambrosia had done... But at what the detective was saying. He wasn't going to escape.
"Don't know what to do now, do you?" Skulduggery asked sullenly. His ice-white eyes were glossed over with unshed tears at the death of his wife and the disappearance of his daughter. Ambrosia almost felt sorry for the dragon, he had to admit that.
"Admittedly, no. I expected a witty remark by now," Ambrosia said, looking and feeling confused.
The detective just closed his eyes and sighed. "Just get on with it. I want to see her."
A flood of near-sympathy overcame the Imperial for a few seconds before he smiled cruely and decided the best course of action.
"Nah, I'll just torture you instead."
"Wha-why?" he cried out suddenly, pulling against his ties with all his might as he tried to stand.
"Torture. You're not getting what you want that easily. I'd much rather break you first." A vicious smile crossed his lips as he watched the detective's features go from sadness to horror to a cry for help.
This was going to be fun.
---
The detective screamed for days on end as he was whipped, stretched, flogged and everything else in a single cell room. He was often found in the corner, sobbing and praying for his end to come soon. It never did. It'd been almost a week since they found the detective, yet with every passing day he was getting more and more... unlike himself. He'd started muttering words, clicking his tongue at random and stalking around the room, looking at a certain spot for hours and hours. He kept mentioning his daughter's name, Rayne, over and over and over, never once wasting a breath. Even whilst he was crying out from being pulled to the edge of death but never grabbing that sweet relief, Ambrosia could tell he was thinking about her and his wife.
Today, however, the detective was stood in the center of the room, staring at the Imperial with sunken blue eyes. He'd thinned out over the past week, his bones sticking out all over the place like little hills and his facial structure being as sharp as ever.
"Hello, Ambrosia," he cooed as the Imperial entered, staying where he was. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"Hello, detective," was all he replied with.
"Did you know that the Sparrow flies South for the winter?"
Ambrosia discontinued moving towards the stool at the left side of the room and turned to stare at the thinning dragon. "What?"
Skulduggery only scoffed. "Well, that's rather impolite. It's "sorry", not "what"."
"I--"
"Oh, spare me the agony of an apology. It's rather pathetic. Especially since you don't particularly come from a family with much education."
"I wasn't going to apologise," Ambrosia hissed.
"Oh," Skulduggery muttered, cocking his head to the left. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Positive?"
"Skulduggery-"
"100% absolutely, undoubtedly sure?"
"Shut up!"
"Alright."
Ambrosia reached into his silken, white cloak and gripped the handle of a carving knife he'd brought down to try a new way to completely break the detective. Now, though, he just felt like killing off the old fool. He now had no use for the skeletal figure, and his incompetence to ever shut up was getting on the Imperial's nerves. He knew that Skulduggery was looking right at the dagger, but nothing in his face said that he cared. He just went on staring at it, muttering something under his breath. Ambrosia moved a step forward; the Skydancer didn't budge. If anything, he shuffled forward slightly. He wants it to end, desperately. Even though the detective is possibly more unhinged than he is, he still understands the concept of death and the peace it may bring.
Ambrosia handed the knife over to him. "Do it yourself."
"Well, that would be cowardly," Skulduggery replied. "I'd much rather you do it."
"I have more important things to do than to deal with a suicidal skeleton."
"You're just as insane as I am, my friend. You've got nothing else to do." He threw the knife towards the ground. "You do it."
With that, the Imperial swooped down and threw the knife at the Skydancer with all the rage bubbling in his system, hearing it go right through his chest and into his heart. Skulduggery stood there, wide eyed, before slumping to the ground. But that wasn't to be the end.
It was only just the beginning of a long-term rivalry.
LORE by @Ozie
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
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Exalting Ambrosia to the service of the Icewarden 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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