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Novaa » Lair » Occisor
Occisor
#9605330
Info
Level 25
Nocturne Male
Hatchday
Jan 11, 2015 (5 years)
Stats Growth
Length
4.69M
Wingspan
5.48M
Weight
626.26KG
Genes
PrimaryIris Giraffe
SecondarySpruce Hex
TertiaryCyan Runes
Eye TypeEarth Common
Energy: 0 / 50
Apparel & Skins
Lineage
Parents
none
Offspring
none
Familiar
Information
It had been a few years since the discovery, and loss, of Eve. A dragon that hatched from an egg collected on Sornieth that was genetically pure. With no parental DNA, only her own as a base. Since then, the need for these kind of dragon hatchlings had sky rocketed. Hunters from across Loonrian would travel to the dragon home world, gathering any and all lone eggs they could find in hopes of getting a big payout for finding a “Pure Hatchling” as they had become known as.

They had come to realize that only the more common breeds could be hatched as “Pure Dragons” Guardians, Faes, Tundras, and Mirrors. They had the ability to change these breeds as they wished when the dragon first hatched, so it really had never been too big of a deal on what came from the egg. They even had the ability to change the colors. These hatchlings became sought after for breeding programs, arena battles, and as general marks of status due to their high price tag.

In one of the larger, more well-known labs a hunter walked into the reception area with a hover plate. Small boxes holding one or two eggs packaged carefully away to ensure safe transport. The receptionists simply looked up at him and nodded as she opened the door that lead down to the main labs.

He was greeted as he walked in by one of the main scientists, who quickly escorted him to the incubators. With care, he began to remove each egg from the crates, setting them inside. The deal was simple. Once the eggs hatched, and they ran tests to find out if the hatchling was “Pure” the hunter would receive their payment. But one egg, could mean retirement for this hunter.

He opened the last crate, and pulled out an egg as strange as the world it came from. Oddly shaped, purple with all sorts of bumps and deformities. He explained how he had found it deep inside a cave he had taken shelter in during his hunt. Nothing like it had ever been found. It did not match any element like the other eggs as they inspected it. The scientists took the egg, holding it before he placed it into an incubator alone. Telling the hunter, he may have just found his way into the elite upper class.

It was maybe a week later, the other eggs hatched and were tested. Of the 13 brought in so far only one had tested as a “Pure” rushed away into the labs while the other wailing hatchlings where sent off to nearby arenas to face fates unknown. Yet still, the strange purple egg sat alone. It was not till almost two weeks had passed that the sensors began to ring off in the incubation chambers. Scientists flocked into the room in a shared silence as the purple egg began to wiggle, crack, and break away.

A large chunk fell from the side, then the top. Before finally a head poked from one of the holes. Slowly squirming its way out into the small chamber that held it. Ugly colors of brown and yellow covered its hide, as deep brown eyes peered out curiously at the world. There was a silent shock held, as the first Nocturn to hatch out of a found egg sat before them.

They all stood rather dumbfounded on what to do before someone finally stepped forward and picked up the newborn. Quickly moving it from the incubator and down into the deeper labs. It was placed into a small cage, next to the “Pure” that had hatched earlier in the week. Soon everyone was gathered around the computer screens as the scanners moved around inside the cage, scanning the newborn as it now slept exhausted from fighting its way into the world.

Sure enough, a “Pure Nocturn hatchling had been born. News spread within hours as the newborn began to investigate the world around him. A male, that was quickly named Occisor. The small world he now knew, was a white walled box with a clear front. He could see tables and all sorts of equipment and screens that flashed strange marks and colors. But there was something else about the hatchling that was strange. At hardly a day old he was showing aggression. Growling at people who came too close, even starting to pace the divider between the other hatchling and himself. Pre disposed aggression, just what the arenas wanted.

But he was not a pretty creature. Brown and yellow were his colors, as they ran tests they were already beginning to plan his color changes. But, color changing was still new on “Pure” dragons. It could take a few tries to get a decent color combination. Most of the time colors were not guaranteed. But, the hatchling already had a huge value with its natural aggression and uniqueness.

At just two days old Occisor was carefully picked up by a machine and placed into a smaller chamber that curled around him. Closed inside a light amount of gas filtered in, causing the small hatchling to slowly drift into sleep. The process of changing his genes to produce a different color began. Even sedated the process was painful. Nothing could be done about that. Inside the small machine he tossed around and turned half awake. Whimpering and wailing softly as the hours passed. It took nearly 14 hours to complete the color change. But as he was removed again, failure showed itself. A mix of puke colored green, pink, and yellow showed. Shaking their heads, they had him placed back into the machine.

For nearly a week Occisor was rotated between resting and recovering to his colors being changed. It was draining, but after close to 7 tries they pulled him out and were happy. Two shades of blue with some purple. Not exactly the colors of a killer, but attractive none the less.

They allowed him a few days’ rest, before he was placed into another machine and this time his looks changed. Changing his genes to something stunning only added to his value. But by this time, the natural aggression and violence the dragon was showing was growing, and more he resented the humans around him.

Soon the day came, he was forced into a smaller cage and moved to the auction house floor. He was released before the richest people on Loonrian. Arena owners looking to add to their breeding program and to have a new star on the arena floor.

As he hissed and growled at the men behind the glass the bids grew higher and higher. The scientists giddy with excitement as they watched their prize dragon bring them in millions. But even to the shock of many. The winner of Occisor was not the owner of Cathkarta, or even any of the larger arenas. No. It was the owner of an arena in another city over, larger but not on top. But, maybe this dragon would be what changed that for him.

He was loaded, with electric prods and sticks into the large moving bus. The young hatchling angry and confused. For the begging of his life all he had known was a glass box and a painful machine. He had no idea what his life would turn into.


He was taken to his new home, but his new owner was something else. His brain similar to that of the dragon he had bought. He was a blood thirsty arena owner. He enjoyed the more violent and bloody fights his arena brought him. He had already heard of this young dragons reputation. He knew this dragon would bring him the pleasure and money he longed for. He would make sure of it.

As he was unloaded into his cage below the arena floor, Occisor looked around the cage, quickly understanding the electric bars and his boundaries. He began to pace the floor, the young dragon enjoying the new found space that he did not realize he would soon outgrow. But soon, a man walked to the front of the cage and opened the gate. Walking inside the large bat like item he held in his hand swinging at his side. The man looked at the dragon before him and smiled, he had to teach his new purchase who was boss.

The young dragon did not stand a chance. The bat was electric and the beating that ensued lasted probably an hour. By the time it was done, the young dragon was broken on the floor as his owner laughed. He had assumed he had beaten his new dragon into submission but he could not be more wrong. As he left the cage laughing Occisor lay bleeding, but his eyes never left. That man was his enemy now. The dragon knew he would never submit to that human, he would in fact do everything in his power to disobey him.

Occisor was soon on the arena floors at around four months old. They did not try to train him, instead they figured the dragons natural aggression and primitive instincts of being wild born would take effect. They were right, but not in a good way. The dragon had a blood thirst like no one had ever seen. His kills were messy and drawn out. He enjoyed the suffering of his prey. He had no fear, of man or another dragon. He never obeyed the rules of a fight. Even if he was to be the one to die in the fixed arena fights he would not allow it.

He was well known for flying the bodies of his dead opponents around the arena sky. Entrails and blood flying around him and the arena like a crimson rain. There was no stopping him. But, his defiance was never unpunished. After every fight it would be the same. He was never healed of the few wounds he got. Instead he was ushered to his cage below, where once again his owner would bring out the bat and beat the dragon to an inch of his life. But each time Occisor would rise again for the next fight; and brutally kill whomever was unfortunate enough to face him.

As a year passed, his reputation was created. He was known as a blood thirsty killer that got pleasure out of each dragon he killed. That like a Destroyer he could not be controlled. That he did what he wished and had never lost once on the arena floor. For his owner, however, there was great progress and great issues. He now had a dragon that people came to watch fight, and begged to see. They paid to see him fight, they paid to get pictures of him and more. He had his money. But, the issue was getting dragons to come fight him. Owners knew that Occisor did not listen to the commands of his owner. That he would not himself loose. Other owners did not enjoy this, or find it agreeable. They did not want to place their prized dragons in a fight they had no control over. So while his arena now had the crowd and fans he longed for, his name within the arena owner hierarchy was tarnished and unimportant.

Finally, after 2 years of having to beg for opponents, and having to beat his dragon after every fight he had enough. The dragon would not fight again. No. Instead it was time for him to be moved to the breeding shed. The now full grown and scarred Occisor figured he had won. As he was taken into a larger cage with much more comfortable floors. He figured that the human that abused him had given up. But no, soon a female dragon was placed into the cage. She was elegant. Regal and just looking you could tell well bred. But she did not stand a chance.

He attacked his owners most valued breeding female. Ripping her apart while the world above slept through it all. By the time someone came to check on them it was too late for her body to be revived by the machine. Just Occisor covered in blood and laying in what remained of the once elegant female.

His owner snapped, and had enough. With a few other guards he walked into the cage with bats and chains. They attacked him, and he fought back. For the first time the dragon rose against them s they came. Ripping those he could grab to bits as he took the electrical hits of the bats. But as he killed one another rose in its place. Soon the chains held his legs, his wings and neck. They bound him up and beat him more till the dragon lay bloody, beaten, and uncurious. It was decided then and there. The dragon would be taken to the labs he came from to be studied, and used to better the dragons of Loonrian in a different way. He had gained fortune from the rare dragon.. but lost his reputation as an arena owner. He was done with him, and never again would buy an Original dragon.

Occisor was still out cold and bleeding when he was loaded onto the truck in a small metal cage with other dragons destined to the labs of Loonrian. Among arena dragons, the labs were worse off than the arenas in some cases. In the arenas, you could get hurt but often you died quickly. The experiments of the labs took hours sometimes days.. and the pain never ended. The small cargo ship took flight from the arena loading hanger and began to head across the planet.

But not long after another ship closed in. Much larger, designed for travel between planets. It swooped down, and before the smaller cargo ship could react it had already opened its hanger and moved over the cargo ship. Trapping it inside the crew of the larger vessel acted fast. Grabbing the pilot of the smaller ship and ending him quickly.

The animal rights activists of Loonrian were more like a terrorist cell. They worked and moved in a military like style to gather dragons and take them back to Sornieth. This ship had managed to get a hold of a very large amount of dragons. Counting Ossisor there was a total of 17 dragons now on their way back to their home world.

Ossicor had woken up not long after, crammed in the cage with his limbs tied together with heavy chains. He had no idea what was going on as he lay in the darkness listening to the engines hum and other dragons chirp to one another. He had no idea what to expect. He figured death had finally come for him but at the same time was unsure. Something did not feel right this time.

Soon humans could be heard as they moved around the cargo hold they had been moved into on the larger ship. He could hear other dragons in their crates being moved as humans barked out commands and the engines began to wind down. They had landed on Sornieth and one by one were releasing the dragons from their crates into the wild. Soon enough Occisor felt them start to move his crate. They took him down the ramp and onto the grass that was the edge of The Tangled Wood.

They opened the crate and a few murmurs could he heard as he lay bound in the crate. A few rather scared to get close to an arena dragon with such a reputation. But soon one man stepped forward with bolt cutters and began to unchain the still dragons. Occisor’s dark brown eyes watched the man as he slowly cut the chains from around his wings, legs, and then head and neck. He backed away quickly. They all did as Occisor moved out of the crate. Looking around the world he had never known. He was free, somehow he was free. He looked back at the humans standing on the ship cargo bay ramp, letting out a loud screech before he took flight heading out and deeper into the Tangled Wood. Relishing in his new found freedom.

He glided deeper and deeper before he found himself in the Wispwillow Grove. The deep colors and glowing plants seemed to match his body in a strange way. He had no idea what he was to do, or what all he would find here. But within this shadowy place he would find his peace, and his pleasure.

It did not take him long to find that some of the dragons that called the planet home were rather soft. Not bred to kill one another like back in the arenas. They made for easy pickings. He learned his new found world, hidden in the shadows he would massacre entire clans in the cover of night. Their screams, and inability to defend themselves made it that much more pleasurable for him. Beast clans stood no chance, or anyone really. He would loot what they had, taking anything of value. Within time even the hatchlings of clans that wandered too far into his part of the Wispillow Grove stood no chance. Rumors began to spread fast of the bloodthirsty dragon that hid within the shadows. Who lusted for blood, pain, and suffering. Who would serve no man or dragon. Occisor the blood thirsty had his freedom now.



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