Word Associations!
Hatzego's Clan
Non-Euclidean Train of Thought.
Clan Info
FR Time +2.
Hi. Don't know how you found me, but you might as well stick around for a while. Just call me by my username. Or anything else, really. I could get behind being called Snoofleheimer. Currently writing bios for everyone, which is taking a while. A very long while.
Huge fan of the MonHun series. If you're ever hunting with Sylvan (4U), HackySlash(3U), or Shura (World),that's me!
I hoard:
funky snakes
This is such a weird box, isn't it? It says Clan Information but it prompts you to type about yourself. Well, if you came for the former, it's right below this box.
Clan Origins
The Voideye Clan is named so in part by its location. It lies at the edge of the Scarred Wasteland, by the edge of the Sea of a Thousand Currents where the Spiral Keep lies. This border area is a magical dead-zone, conteseted by multiple elements that nullify eachother, a sort of 'void'. The 'eye' comes from (error 404: full lore not found).
In the Wandering Contagion, at the edge of the Sea of a Thousand Currents, a lone Mirror limped across the rotted wasteland, at the edge of death. Koraine's former pack had been ravaged by beastclans, monsters, and competing packs for quite some time before their inevitable end, but she had never imagined the massacre that had finally destroyed her pack. The few who survived had tried to stay together, but the rot had seeped into their bleeding wounds, and they fell, one by one. Koraine was the last survivor. She had been wandering for days, too weak to hunt, too afraid to sleep. Eventually, she came to a stop at the cliffs bordering the Sea of a Thousand Currents, where no creatures of Plague would chase her. She flew down the disease-covered rock and found a pockmark in the flesh and stone, where she rested, waiting for her death.
Her death never came.
Several days after, Koraine was gliding along the wake of the sea, where the Spiral Keep rested. She gathered the fish that jumped out of the surf in terror of the predators below, and the belongings of the many corpses that lined the surface. Many dragons that were not from the Water flight had tried to dive down to the Spiral Keep to listen to the prophecies of the Tidelord. They had thought they were strong, or clever, or lucky enough to survive the crushing depths of the sea and hear their futures foretold, if only for a moment. And many times, they were wrong. The residents of the sea usually buried those who had drifted to the shallows out of pity. But here in the farthest reaches, Koraine could easily snatch the belongings of the drowned and haul them back to her cliffside cave, which she had dug out enough to be considered a proper lair, either to sell or use. It was not a life she was proud of living, but it was the life she relied on.
But as she swept across the tides, she saw something she had never expected. The body of a Guardian drifted along the surface, where it was already being pecked at by seagulls, but her eyes could see the faintest signature of heat still rise off his body. He was still alive. What Koraine did that day she could never quite explain. It was against Mirror instinct to trust other dragons, an instinct that her pack had always standed by. But on that day, she dragged him back to her cave, nearly collapsing into the sea herself from the effort.
When the Guardian, Rayzar, awoke, he was in a cave. He panicked as the thought that he had lost his charge struck him, but he soon remembered that he had left it buried in the sand of the shore, safe and sound. Relieved, he looked around the strange room he had awoken in. The walls were scraped and smooth, yet dry, as if they were dug out. Around him were trinkets and apparel, skeletons of familiars and all sorts of strange fish and meats. He remembered losing the last of his breath as the darkness of the sea took hold of him, but this couldn't possibly be the afterlife. If he wasn't dead, where was he? And why did the air smell like... rotting flesh? His pondering was interrupted by the sound of wingbeats coming from the entrance. He poised himself, ready to attack whatever was approaching. The shadow of a monstrous beast casted upon the walls as footsteps drew near...
(Please Wait... Don't Power Off...)
Lair Districts
To accommodate the many different flight members in the clan, there exist 10 districts to appease each flight, split between three main zones: the underground tunnels of the Carven Caves, the natural support of the Titan's Grave, and the haven of the Green Crater. There is no Arcane district, as the magical energies it requires prove too intense an undertaking to build on the magical dead zone the rest of the clan lives on.
Plague Complex
The main and largest district of the Carven Caves, a system of tunnels and halls running through the Rot like veins and arteries. The hallways pulse with the heartbeat of the Wyrmwound, and the Rot must be maintained and fought back in this district, lest the whole thing regenerate and close down upon the clan. In the center of these tunnels are the hatchery nests, kept warm by the green blood of the Rot itself. Go ahead, dip your hands in and try to steal them, see how it goes...
Ice Catacombs
Deep beneath the earth, the Catacombs were dug out right by the cliff-face, so that the freezing temperatures of the Thousand Currents would seep right into the stone and be trapped there. Magically reinforced glass pipes built into the ceiling and walls further this effect, allowing the chilling waters to run through the district, radiating with cold. Bioluminescent sea life flit and trudge through this system, filling the Catacombs with an ethereal glow. The mood of the lighting takes a staggering 180 when the Crystalline Gala rolls around. In the deepest, coldest depths, surrounded by so many pipes it could kill a dragon by temperature alone, is the Vault, locked behind a wall of ice, meters thick, that can only be accessed by certain dragons of the clan.
(Loading Loading Loading... Loading Loading Loading... Rawhiiiiiiiiiide...)
Hi. Don't know how you found me, but you might as well stick around for a while. Just call me by my username. Or anything else, really. I could get behind being called Snoofleheimer. Currently writing bios for everyone, which is taking a while. A very long while.
Huge fan of the MonHun series. If you're ever hunting with Sylvan (4U), HackySlash(3U), or Shura (World),that's me!
I hoard:
funky snakes
This is such a weird box, isn't it? It says Clan Information but it prompts you to type about yourself. Well, if you came for the former, it's right below this box.
Clan Origins
The Voideye Clan is named so in part by its location. It lies at the edge of the Scarred Wasteland, by the edge of the Sea of a Thousand Currents where the Spiral Keep lies. This border area is a magical dead-zone, conteseted by multiple elements that nullify eachother, a sort of 'void'. The 'eye' comes from (error 404: full lore not found).
In the Wandering Contagion, at the edge of the Sea of a Thousand Currents, a lone Mirror limped across the rotted wasteland, at the edge of death. Koraine's former pack had been ravaged by beastclans, monsters, and competing packs for quite some time before their inevitable end, but she had never imagined the massacre that had finally destroyed her pack. The few who survived had tried to stay together, but the rot had seeped into their bleeding wounds, and they fell, one by one. Koraine was the last survivor. She had been wandering for days, too weak to hunt, too afraid to sleep. Eventually, she came to a stop at the cliffs bordering the Sea of a Thousand Currents, where no creatures of Plague would chase her. She flew down the disease-covered rock and found a pockmark in the flesh and stone, where she rested, waiting for her death.
Her death never came.
Several days after, Koraine was gliding along the wake of the sea, where the Spiral Keep rested. She gathered the fish that jumped out of the surf in terror of the predators below, and the belongings of the many corpses that lined the surface. Many dragons that were not from the Water flight had tried to dive down to the Spiral Keep to listen to the prophecies of the Tidelord. They had thought they were strong, or clever, or lucky enough to survive the crushing depths of the sea and hear their futures foretold, if only for a moment. And many times, they were wrong. The residents of the sea usually buried those who had drifted to the shallows out of pity. But here in the farthest reaches, Koraine could easily snatch the belongings of the drowned and haul them back to her cliffside cave, which she had dug out enough to be considered a proper lair, either to sell or use. It was not a life she was proud of living, but it was the life she relied on.
But as she swept across the tides, she saw something she had never expected. The body of a Guardian drifted along the surface, where it was already being pecked at by seagulls, but her eyes could see the faintest signature of heat still rise off his body. He was still alive. What Koraine did that day she could never quite explain. It was against Mirror instinct to trust other dragons, an instinct that her pack had always standed by. But on that day, she dragged him back to her cave, nearly collapsing into the sea herself from the effort.
When the Guardian, Rayzar, awoke, he was in a cave. He panicked as the thought that he had lost his charge struck him, but he soon remembered that he had left it buried in the sand of the shore, safe and sound. Relieved, he looked around the strange room he had awoken in. The walls were scraped and smooth, yet dry, as if they were dug out. Around him were trinkets and apparel, skeletons of familiars and all sorts of strange fish and meats. He remembered losing the last of his breath as the darkness of the sea took hold of him, but this couldn't possibly be the afterlife. If he wasn't dead, where was he? And why did the air smell like... rotting flesh? His pondering was interrupted by the sound of wingbeats coming from the entrance. He poised himself, ready to attack whatever was approaching. The shadow of a monstrous beast casted upon the walls as footsteps drew near...
(Please Wait... Don't Power Off...)
Lair Districts
To accommodate the many different flight members in the clan, there exist 10 districts to appease each flight, split between three main zones: the underground tunnels of the Carven Caves, the natural support of the Titan's Grave, and the haven of the Green Crater. There is no Arcane district, as the magical energies it requires prove too intense an undertaking to build on the magical dead zone the rest of the clan lives on.
Plague Complex
The main and largest district of the Carven Caves, a system of tunnels and halls running through the Rot like veins and arteries. The hallways pulse with the heartbeat of the Wyrmwound, and the Rot must be maintained and fought back in this district, lest the whole thing regenerate and close down upon the clan. In the center of these tunnels are the hatchery nests, kept warm by the green blood of the Rot itself. Go ahead, dip your hands in and try to steal them, see how it goes...
Ice Catacombs
Deep beneath the earth, the Catacombs were dug out right by the cliff-face, so that the freezing temperatures of the Thousand Currents would seep right into the stone and be trapped there. Magically reinforced glass pipes built into the ceiling and walls further this effect, allowing the chilling waters to run through the district, radiating with cold. Bioluminescent sea life flit and trudge through this system, filling the Catacombs with an ethereal glow. The mood of the lighting takes a staggering 180 when the Crystalline Gala rolls around. In the deepest, coldest depths, surrounded by so many pipes it could kill a dragon by temperature alone, is the Vault, locked behind a wall of ice, meters thick, that can only be accessed by certain dragons of the clan.
(Loading Loading Loading... Loading Loading Loading... Rawhiiiiiiiiiide...)
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