Gilgamesh
(#49397199)
Level 15 Pearlcatcher
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Energy: 49/50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.33 m
Wingspan
4.91 m
Weight
489.9 kg
Genetics
Black
Pinstripe
Pinstripe
Obsidian
Trail
Trail
Iris
Firefly
Firefly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 15 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 255 / 60881
STR
8
AGI
7
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
5
VIT
7
MND
5
Biography
Memento mori (Latin: "remember that you have to die") is the medieval Latin Christian theory and practice of reflection on mortality, especially as a means of considering the vanity of earthly life and the transient nature of all earthly goods and pursuits. Memento mori has been an important part of ascetic disciplines as a means of perfecting the character by cultivating detachment and other virtues, and by turning the attention towards the immortality of the soul and the afterlife. This curse would be traced down his lineage. All Vigil's children were destined to die, like any dragon. But they would be given a second chance. It was up to the children if they would accept the bargain.
template coding by Jaspernoir
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The Hunt
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There was a time before and after the Battle at Hornwood. Memories from before that fateful day were fuzzy and blurred. Gilgamesh felt strangely disconnected from those images and feelings, as if he had been a different dragon. Maybe because this was true. No one comes back from the dead unchanged. That’s what his mother had always told him. But back then, he didn’t care much for anything his mother said, least of all for her weird and cursed ancestors. He was a Nightcaller by birth, a descendant from a mighty and powerful bloodline, a Reaper just like his father. He had been strong, wild, brutal and lusted for the blood of his enemies. He had been a fool. A cocky, ignorant and boasting fool. Some had called him dangerous, ruthless and cruel instead. What was the truth? The grueling truth for him was that he could never be sure. He had been foolish enough to take on three dragons at once, all capable warriors instead of waiting for back up. So, he either hadn’t been the brightest button in the box, or had been overcome by bloodlust and battel fever. Either way, it had been a stupid endeavor. What he did remember was the excruciating pain he had felt when the lance pierced his heart. He also remembered laughing at his opponent, the smell and taste of blood, his own blood, coagulating in his mouth. Maybe he had been mad after all? They had buried him in a shallow grave after his heart stopped beating and his laughter had faded away. They hadn’t known what he was, and neither had he until his familiar Raven had called out to him and brought him back from the underworld. When he had dug himself out of his grave with his bare claws, he’d felt truly reborn. He was still a powerful warrior, he still lusted for the blood of his enemies but his killing wasn’t non-selective anymore. The prey he hunted now were criminals, murderers, black witches and necromancers. The scum of Sornieth who was either to sly to be captured, or too feared to be convicted for their crimes. He came for them all, a shadow in the darkness, unseen until it was too late. Gilgamesh loved to play with his prey, enjoyed to take everything they held dear from them and drive them into madness before he struck the final blow that would end their suffering. “You reap what you sow.” , wasn’t that an old saying? Then why should those who had brought so much death and destruction amongst others, die a quick and merciful death? Now that wouldn’t be fair. Gilgamesh smiled to himself as he polished his scythe. Time to stop reminiscing about the past. There was a job to be done, he needed to focus on that now. His prey had had enough time to stumble though the woods. His attempt at fleeing his destiny was futile. Gilgamesh nodded to his familiar, who raised silently to his feet and spread his wings. Raven would fly ahead as usual, as silent as a ghost. Gilgamesh cloaked himself in darkness and followed the Tengu through the woods. Time to hunt, he thought as he felt the familiar rush of adrenalin sweep through his body, washing away all conscious thought. Primal instincts took over, the thrill of the chase and an insatiable desire to kill. A dreadful howl echoed through the woods, feral and full of rage. Birds went silent and animals small and huge retreated into their burrows. Tonight, the woods belonged to him. |
dividers by Poisonedpaper
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Exalting Gilgamesh to the service of the Gladekeeper 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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