Helock
(#5449)
Level 25 Mirror
Familiar
Spirit of Plague
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 47/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Male Mirror
This dragon is on a Coliseum team.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.43 m
Wingspan
5.45 m
Weight
498.22 kg
Genetics
Crimson
Basic
Basic
Obsidian
Basic
Basic
Teal
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Mirror
Max Level
STR
126
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
58
INT
5
VIT
11
MND
5
Lineage
Biography
| ____________ |
|
H E L O C K
 The Voracious | Right Talon |
|
Lead. Don’t follow. Crush. Or be crushed.
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 Where Roslia lacks in physical presence in leading the clan, Helock makes up for. His absence of wisdom and perception makes him the most unlikely candidate to lead a clan. He is utterly rash and impulsive, spends most of his free time hunting for sport, and devouring his prey… for sport. However, while his followers don’t see him as the most charismatic of leaders, he is consistently the top hunter, capable of taking down prey many times his size through sheer power and determination. With his own ability, he tears through his enemies like paper, but Roslia’s augmentations to his body makes him the perfect killing machine. His partially decayed body makes him numb to pain, allowing him to outlast dragons in terms of endurance. Furthermore, Helock’s unique body houses an even more surprises, as Roslia has altered most of his organs to aid his unnatural endurance. Alas, his greatest strength is also his greatest weakness - his body is constantly at a near death state after being “revived” by the Augmenter. This causes him to rely heavily on Roslia’s talents because without frequent maintenance on his body, he would eventually fall apart. The two make an odd pair, and while Helock would never admit to whether or not he was grateful for his new life, he stays loyal to Roslia, fulfilling the physical roles of leadership, and is a testament to her abilities.  |
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Alignment: Neutral Evil Affiliation(s): Plague, formerly Shadow Status: Alive, heavily augmented  STATISTICS: 
|▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓| DEX |▓▓▓▓▓░░░░| CON |▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓░| INT |▓▓▓░░░░░░| WIS |▓▓░░░░░░░| CHA |▓▓░░░░░░░|  
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Trust no one. Not even yourself.
Not until you know there is nothing you cannot do.
.Not until you know there is nothing you cannot do.
.
 |
Ah... the night... take me as I am, for my kin do not... Helock closed his eyes with these last thoughts. He had been a top assassin, a favorite of the Lady Shadowbinder. Never was there a moment where he slipped, was outwitted, or tricked... at least not until now. “Hurry and bury this sack of useless bones!” A shadow dragon hissed. A second voice answered, “I don't feel right about this... why are we so close to the Wastelands anyway?” An audio slap echoed through the woods as the first dragon hit his companion, “So we can make it look like the plague flight did it.” The two were silent, then they started clawing dirt into the hole which held the body of a near dead dragon. They were disrupted in their activity, however, when the second dragon snapped his head upward, his eyes widened and darted around the woods, “Did you hear that?” “What is it now?” the first shadow drake continued piling dirt into the hole. A faint sound echoed, but they couldn’t make out what it was, “That!” He hushed then dropped his head to listen. But before they could ponder on it any further, they were both pulled backwards by an invisible force, landing on their wings. One of them cried out as their full weight crushed their delicate wing bones. “Aah! I can’t get up!” The shadow dragon struggled against himself, he seemed to be tangled in something stringy, but it wasn’t mere spider webs. Looking towards his companion, the first dragon hissed, “Stop moving! You’ll make it worse!” As if granting his wish, the more the dragon struggled, the more the thread dug into his scales. Finally, there was a forceful tug, and the invisible thread pulled away, tearing off many of his scales. A scream echoed through the night, startling the other dragon, “Oh, my Shadowbinder, what cruelty is this?!” “Cruelty?” A female voice came forth from the dark, “You’d know all about being cruel, wouldn’t you?” The remaining shadow drake panted, “Who’s there?” A humanoid emerged into the moonlight, her many threads reflecting the light. She had horns adorning her head, but she was soft skinned and had torn wings. “By the Shadowbinder… what are you?” The dragon stared with wide, frightened eyes. She grinned, “A witness.” Before waiting for a response, she granted him the same treatment she gave his companion. X x x x X There’s a lot of snipping… the sound of thread being pulled… tearing of the flesh, bones breaking… Ah, I must be dead for sure… Shadowbinder… did you… abandon me…? “If you’re energetic enough to be talking to yourself, perhaps you should try standing.” Helock’s eyes shot open, “What…” he slowly lifted his head, but almost immediately dropped it again. Something felt… different. An image came into focus and he stared at the humanoid in front of him. “Slowly now.” Roslia stood up and turned to wash something, “You weren’t an easy one to bring back.” Bring... back? He blinked, something smelled awful, and he briefly wondered if it was coming from his host. He sniffed the air, catching a scent from the anthrodragon, “Why do you smell like nature, in the mist of this... putrid decay?” Stopping her washing, Roslia sighed, “Good to know your nose is working.” “I demand an explaina...ahh!” Helock had tried to get onto his legs, but when he did, one of his front paws snapped off. He yelled in pain, but then realized something strange. He didn’t feel any pain - the reaction was just out of habit. He stared at his detached claw then back at his host in disbelief. “Oops, I didn’t stitch that one well enough.” Roslia took the claw from the ground then held it up to his front leg. She then pulled out a needle with thread attached to it. Helock snapped at her, “Back off!” “You don’t want your claw back?” “I don’t want.... Whatever that is. Whatever this is!” He panicked and looked himself over. His previous shadow hide was nowhere to be seen, instead, replaced by a rotten, makeshift body. He saw muscle and bone peering out of his hide at random areas, but he couldn’t feel anything. No warmth, no cold. “What did you do to me?” Roslia tilted her head up at the distraught dragon, and for once, Helock noticed something odd: she was blindfolded. “I don't expect you to show gratitude for me, but try to appreciate your new form.” Roslia held up his claw, “You were technically dead when I found you, but it hadn't been long enough for your major organs to be permanently lost... so I brought you here." She paused and tilted her head toward a wall of the dank cave that was lined with canopic jars, medical supplies, herbs, and many other oddities Helock had never seen before. "You can figure out the rest.” Helock continued gawking at Roslia. Everything was happening too fast... He had died? What happened to him? He had to remember... A moment passed and Roslia finally heard Helock shift. He grinned at first, then laughed. Soon enough, her lair echoed with his maniacal laughter. “Of course. My... friends.” He gasped then lashed his tongue at Roslia, “They were jealous of me. They thought I was too dangerous to the Shadowbinder. I never wanted anything more than to please her! Oh...” He shook his head, “None of that matters now. I was betrayed. I was discarded like a useless rag. So what am I to you, halfing?” Roslia hadn’t budged from her spot, she continued holding Helock’s claw, and listened with a playful grin on her face. “To me?” She took his foreleg and placed his claw in spot and started stitching. Helock flinched again out of habit, but quickly realized it didn’t hurt. After finishing, she spoke softly, “To me, you are a brother. The great Plaguebringer provided me with the ability to augment dragons such as yourself... to bring those lost in the world back home. You have no one to thank but the Plaguemother.” Roslia stood then smiled. It was a warm and enduring smile, but Helock felt another presence behind it. As sincere as his host had been, there was a sinister and bizarre aura around her. He focused his second pair of eyes and noticed a much larger heat signature radiating from the biped - a heat signature too large for such a small figure. Something else was watching him, and as he made this realization, a distorted voice echoed in his mind. ...Welcome home, Survivor... |
 Curator  Hunting Partner 
 Birthplace  Hunting Grounds |
By Macabre
By corvuslotor
By CynicalOwl
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Exalting Helock to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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