Darts
(#51046991)
Level 1 Tundra
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Female Tundra
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
2.52 m
Wingspan
3.9 m
Weight
267.58 kg
Genetics
Stonewash
Poison
Poison
Eggplant
Toxin
Toxin
Teal
Smoke
Smoke
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Tundra
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
7
VIT
7
MND
7
Biography
|
Darts
Trickster Extraordinaire |
The damage done to Transient was severe, and Bafford tried to quell the growing panic in his stomach as he listened to the team of dergs tend to the shreds that his friend's body had become. The beastclan's attack was swift and nearly imperceptible until his magic was far too little, far too late - he had managed to beat back the ragtag team of creatures from further demolishing Transient's body, but he wasn't sure of much of her would actually be left for the medicalists and magicians to work with. Thus, he paced around the front of her den, listening to the sounds of humming and hushed tones that came out of it. It was a bad sign in of itself that they had taken her home and not to their own labs - as if they were trying to provide her a final comfort. From the shadows, the form of Setsuna emerged. She gave a sort of curt smile at him, obviously caring enough about the severity of the manner that she wanted to comfort her mate, but also unsure as to how she was to proceed. She was never much skilled with supporting others in dire straits. Still, Bafford found himself drawn to his love, nuzzling his weight in her massive chest. She breathed gently, finally placing one of her claws on the crux of his head. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I know how much she means to you." Bafford nodded. Transient was given to him as a sort of spoil during a trade visit to the Lightning Farm, where the separation between the sanctity of life and pushing the barriers of science were forever at odds. It wasn't too different from the Arcanist's realm in that manner, he thought - asides from the fact that no trader in the Crystalspine Reaches had ever offered him a derg's life as a symbol of well-wishes. "Notice the fine stitching," the midnight-black derg had told him, smiling, stretching Bafford's claws towards the life-sized statue. "Notice how life-like it is." "Indeed." Agreeable as he was, even to strangers, the invasion of his personal bubble was making Bafford uncomfortable. The derg's eyes twinkled at the agreement. "That's because it is. This derg is a failed experiment of my den to create a channel through which exalted dergs can still communicate with our current plane of existence." As if on command, the large purple statue, which had been still up until this point, blinked. Bafford's mind raced towards the knife he kept in his satchel at Setsuna's request ("You're too soft, sweetheart. And one day, someone will make you pay for it."). Such a large swath of what must have been confidential information, delivered at barely the drop of a hat - his thoughts wanted to focus on the purple derg before him, but they were geared towards ensuring his survival in the next few moments. "Listen. I know you think that this is all talk, but you've gotta believe me. My den heard about the beastclans that attacked your trade caravan a few moons ago, and we feel remorse for not cleaning up the area of their existence sooner. Consider this a token of our apologies. She doesn't work, but damned if I doubt you could get a good price for her, even if just for parts." The derg's involuntary emphasis on the word "parts" sent ice running down Bafford's spine. He was no Skydancer, but he sensed sincerity in the derg's words. After exchanging ending pleasantries with the trader, he found himself alone with the purple derg, who simply stated that her name was "Transient". It became quickly obvious to Bafford that the derg had been instructed by her previous clan to sit and stay quiet when in the presence of a superior, and thus on their journey back to the Crystalspine Reaches, to Mavenlark, Bafford made it his goal to socialize the derg into an individual. He returned with a bubbly, outspoken spiral that Mavenlark's denizens immediately took a liking to. With her consent and at her leisure, tests were conducted on Transcience to verify the veracity of the trader's comments. It was almost obvious from just touching her, but lab results revealed that her "scales" were woven from threads and wool of different colors, explaining her patchwork appearance. Blood samples were interesting. Incisions made into her removed blood and magically-infused cotton alike, the substance of the latter containing magics that were untraceable to any existing being on Sornieth - in other words, either from long-dead dergs or sources that were intentionally being hidden. Bafford found the science of her existence interesting enough (and Setsuna had a field day with the reports, always harboring a love for that sort of wild thing), but most of all, he found Transient herself as a derg interesting. He made it a personal aim of his to treat her no different than any other Mavenlark clan member - they meant well, but sometimes the clan got a bit too wrapped up in the mysterious science aspects of its more unusual members - and the two grew close. Now, this. His head sank even further, digging into the burnt bits of Setsuna's skin. She winced slightly - both from the pain of the relatively recent scarring and discomfort with physical affection - but didn't dare move. From the shadows that she had come from originally, she noticed another form making its way towards them. The way it carried itself with a sort of effortless regality confirmed her suspicions. "Mother Bitestrith," she called out, "what buisness brings you to us?" The fae drew close to them now, her frame feeling larger than she must have actually been against the backdrop of the severe situation. She offered a soft smile, one that did not seem to suggest that all was alright but provided what little comfort was avaliable. Bafford withdrew from his mate and bowed before her. "No need for that now, Bafford," Bitestrith responded. "I have news about Transient that I need the two of you for." The news perked Bafford's head upwards in hope, and tingled Setsuna's ears in surprise. The two dergs had mutual respect for one another, but very much turned the other way when it came to their own personal affairs - what could the mother possibly need from her? "As you know," Mother Bitestrith offered, "Transient's body is made out of fabric. Durable fabric, to be sure, since it encases all the organs of a regular derg, but fabric nonetheless." "Yes," they responded in unison, unsure of where this was going. "But she is also made from derg's blood. It is not her own, and seems to be at constant odds with itself." Bafford nodded now, knowing how frequently his friend became sick. "I have been studying my texts for the last few starfalls, and I believe that I have figured out a means by which to replicate her skin. It will be difficult to sustain her during the preparation process, but if we are quick about it, we will be able to patch her up again. I already have my team beginning the growing process for a graft." "That's fantastic!" Bafford practically yelled, resisting himself from tossing his whole Tundra-weight at her small body. "Mother Bitestrith, you are an honor to work with." Setsuna stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Bitestrith offered another tight-lipped smile. "Nothing is certain, Bafford. We will hope for the best, but please prepare for the worst. You have my word that we will be trying our best to save her." The air grew heavy once more. Bitestrith continued. "However, that does leave one matter. We cannot reattatch the skin she has lost to her, but we cannot rid ourselves of it carelessly, either. I trust you are both aware what happens when bits of deceased dragons are handled carelessly." The image of Emperors roaring through the Spires as if they were paper reached both Bafford and Setsuna's mind with automatic fear. "Yes," Setsuna answered. "So I suppose you need our help disposing of the dead skin so that doesn't happen." "Almost correct. We have never been in a situation like this before, with a dragon like Transient. And we may still lose her yet. She is sentient right now, and while in tremendous pain, I believe she is absolutely right of mind. She has made a request of me." "Which is?" Setsuna asked. "She wants us to create more of her using the skin." "What?" Bafford balked. "But Mother, she was basically a slave. She was created to be used. She might even be running off of the blood of deceased dergs! I don't think we can..." Mother Bitestrith rose a claw to the air, and he fell silent on command. "I know, and I absolutely understand your concerns. But the fact of the matter is, we are unsure of how to even dispose of the skin properly. I cannot in good conscience give Vachel it and ask her to safely extract the magic from it like a dud egg when we have absolutely no idea how to do so. What we might have is vague information about from my texts is how to create more creatures like Transient - and the wish of a potentially dying derg." Bafford felt hot electricity run through his veins. He imagined more dragons like Transient wandering Soreinth, unnatural in their creation, and felt fear. Had he been treating his friend like a project more than a companion? Did that explain the sick feeling in his stomach that felt too much like disgust? "There is one more additional caveat. In lieu of using the deceased's blood for these creatures, we will need a donation from a living derg. Transient has specifically requested you, Bafford." "He'll do it," Setsuna immediately replied, gripping Bafford's arm. Mother Bitestrith looked at her in surprise, obviously expecting more of a fight. "Bafford, what are your thoughts?" He thought about the first time that he had heard Transient laughed, and wondered what it would be like to hear her hatchlings do the same. He thought about the first time she saw grass, real grass, and imagined her rolling about in it with her young. They were all concepts that he had introduced to her first. Perhaps it was time to her explore new concepts on her own. He steeled himself. "I would be more than happy to, Mother." Bitestrith nodded, seriousness replacing the compassion that had previously lined her mouth. "Come along with me. We have serious work to do. Setsuna, you are more than welcome to join us." The three exited into the darkness, the suggestion of life hanging tangibly in the air. Darts was the second of her three siblings to be crafted from her mother’s skin. She has a talent for crafting all sorts of strange board games, the first of which she sold to a major courier retailer very soon after her "birth". Still, since her mind works in games and strategies, she can be a bit conniving. If there's something she wants to get her claws on, you can count on her to get it. Never make a wager with her that you cannot afford to lose. Gambling is her vice - and her greatest talent. Darts runs the largest gambling den in the Labyrinthe, thriving on the sounds of dice and the shuffles of cards. As the proprietor, Darts loves to participate in her own games, but never expect to win! Darts loves to talk to a darkened corner of her business, often found there if not at the tables. If you ask, she'll laugh and say, "Oh, that's just Laby!" Any denizens will freeze at that, but the corner will chuckle as well... |
x.-x.-x.-x
Life can be found in the most surprising of places.
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Exalting Darts to the service of the Earthshaker 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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