HOME | DD

Description
There is a tale as old as everything -- the rocks upon the soft sod of the earth, the babbling streams that cross the land, some even say as old as time itself. The story is sworn to be true by the eldest of cats, and is told the the youngest of kits. A Great Cat once walked the land, and some elders say it even created the ground itself. This Great Cat, who is both life and death, shadow and light, is rumored to still roam the land but only one cat can confirm such a rumor.

An elder feline, who has not walked the path of life for some time, told of a great adventure that took place in his youth. Xenus was a cat whose great boreal pines grew for thousands of years upon his back. A small sparrow nested within the branches of his pines. One of the greatest story tellers of all, Xenus easily held the attention from cats of all ages with his tales.

"Gather around, my fellow cats." Kits would run from the gentle grooming of their mothers to gather around the fire, eager to hear another story from Xenus.

"Which story would you like to hear tonight?" His old, sightless eyes would look around without seeing, letting his ears do the observing.

A gentle chorus of mews would rise from the flickering light of the fire, yearning for their story to be chosen. "The makers! The makers! Tell us about the makers," many voices yowled.

"Very well, the makers...

Long ago tread the paws of the first beast. The feline was tall and had legs as long as the trees themselves, and as one looked up upon the creature, they would be shocked to see not one but three heads upon the heaving shoulders of the beast. This feline traveled across the land with no direction, only aiming to see the world. One day, a small cat -- just your size, no older than a yearling, had captured the interest of this massive beast. The kit was sickly and near death.

'Let it die,' hissed one of the great heads 'it is close to death anyway.' Gar, the blunt and often merciless head never took pity in the weak. It had the mind of a stern feline, logical but tactless. Gar's giant ears were useless and it could not hear. Its fur was light in color, with a greenish hue and gentle spring flowers sprouted from the fur.

'We mustn't harm it!' bellowed the opposite head, angry at the haste in the other's voice. "It is sick, and needs care." This cat was darkly colored like the earth itself, with a gentle covering of moss poking up around its back and head area. Red mushrooms spotted the fur of the cat. Its eyes were sightless. Byyrja, the head was called, the bringer of life.

With each paw step, grass erupted beneath its mighty feet. Some say that forests appear in wake of the beast. A dappled hare rode atop the head of Byyrja, jumping about the Great Cat. Around the massive feline fluttered various species of birds, and the occasional ungulate would graze beneath the feet of the cat. 'Why don't we aid it?' asked Byyrja. Gar appeared to listen to the other head somehow, its face turning toward Byyrja, rather than its ears swiveling to hear.

The two heads turned inward toward the middle head. This cat was completely mute; not a sound was uttered from its maw, and its two eyes gazed forward thoughtfully. The cat had a third eye, with war paint as bright as suns painted in streaks atop it. The eye was the most unnatural of colors, and appeared to be sightless. A gentle purr was emitted from the middle cat.

'Ahah, Unum, what an idea! We shall give this cat the gift of life,' meowed Byyrja. The middle cat, Unum, purred again. The three heads could clearly communicate internally, aiding one another in their disabilities.

'The gift of life? It is already living,' muttered Gar, who was quite puzzled by this statement.

'The gift of other life.' Gar nodded its head, understanding now. The three heads were in agreement, and stepped forward toward the sickly cat.

'With this gift, you shall harbor the living. You are able to summon creatures with the magic we will give you. Foliage and fauna with thrive around you, keeping you healthy and free of disease. You shall never perish of age, nor will your kits and their offspring. However, if you let your creatures and plant life suffer and die, you will in turn perish. You must care for your beings, as you cannot survive without them and they cannot survive without you.'

Suddenly fog billowed from seemingly no where, and the young cat was surrounded by it. An instant later the cat emerged, his back mottled by fresh grass. Small pine saplings dotted a portion of his back. He felt lively. Before the young cat could fully process what had happened, the mysterious three headed cat -- the Makers -- had vanished.

Over time, as the young cat aged, his small ecosystem grew with him. The pine saplings atop his back aged into mighty trees, and he conjured many species. His favorite, though, was always the humble sparrow." Xenus pauses, winking a sightless eye as his sparrow conjuration puffed up its feathers.

"It is said that the Makers live in this realm still, but only in the highest of mountains. They do not wish to be bothered, and if someone tries to find them they will cloak the area in fog, never to be seen."

Pronounciations
Xenus -- zeen-us
Byyrja -- be-ear-ya
Unum -- oon-oom
Gar -- gahrr

CURRENT SPECIES REFERENCES

RARITY GUIDE
CONJURATIONS
LIFE CYCLE

Ecoservals are a closed species by servals , you cannot make your own.

ecoservals

Description
There is a tale as old as everything -- the rocks upon the soft sod of the earth, the babbling streams that cross the land, some even say as old as time itself. The story is sworn to be true by the eldest of cats, and is told the the youngest of kits. A Great Cat once walked the land, and some elders say it even created the ground itself. This Great Cat, who is both life and death, shadow and light, is rumored to still roam the land but only one cat can confirm such a rumor.

An elder feline, who has not walked the path of life for some time, told of a great adventure that took place in his youth. Xenus was a cat whose great boreal pines grew for thousands of years upon his back. A small sparrow nested within the branches of his pines. One of the greatest story tellers of all, Xenus easily held the attention from cats of all ages with his tales.

"Gather around, my fellow cats." Kits would run from the gentle grooming of their mothers to gather around the fire, eager to hear another story from Xenus.

"Which story would you like to hear tonight?" His old, sightless eyes would look around without seeing, letting his ears do the observing.

A gentle chorus of mews would rise from the flickering light of the fire, yearning for their story to be chosen. "The makers! The makers! Tell us about the makers," many voices yowled.

"Very well, the makers...

Long ago tread the paws of the first beast. The feline was tall and had legs as long as the trees themselves, and as one looked up upon the creature, they would be shocked to see not one but three heads upon the heaving shoulders of the beast. This feline traveled across the land with no direction, only aiming to see the world. One day, a small cat -- just your size, no older than a yearling, had captured the interest of this massive beast. The kit was sickly and near death.

'Let it die,' hissed one of the great heads 'it is close to death anyway.' Gar, the blunt and often merciless head never took pity in the weak. It had the mind of a stern feline, logical but tactless. Gar's giant ears were useless and it could not hear. Its fur was light in color, with a greenish hue and gentle spring flowers sprouted from the fur.

'We mustn't harm it!' bellowed the opposite head, angry at the haste in the other's voice. "It is sick, and needs care." This cat was darkly colored like the earth itself, with a gentle covering of moss poking up around its back and head area. Red mushrooms spotted the fur of the cat. Its eyes were sightless. Byyrja, the head was called, the bringer of life.

With each paw step, grass erupted beneath its mighty feet. Some say that forests appear in wake of the beast. A dappled hare rode atop the head of Byyrja, jumping about the Great Cat. Around the massive feline fluttered various species of birds, and the occasional ungulate would graze beneath the feet of the cat. 'Why don't we aid it?' asked Byyrja. Gar appeared to listen to the other head somehow, its face turning toward Byyrja, rather than its ears swiveling to hear.

The two heads turned inward toward the middle head. This cat was completely mute; not a sound was uttered from its maw, and its two eyes gazed forward thoughtfully. The cat had a third eye, with war paint as bright as suns painted in streaks atop it. The eye was the most unnatural of colors, and appeared to be sightless. A gentle purr was emitted from the middle cat.

'Ahah, Unum, what an idea! We shall give this cat the gift of life,' meowed Byyrja. The middle cat, Unum, purred again. The three heads could clearly communicate internally, aiding one another in their disabilities.

'The gift of life? It is already living,' muttered Gar, who was quite puzzled by this statement.

'The gift of other life.' Gar nodded its head, understanding now. The three heads were in agreement, and stepped forward toward the sickly cat.

'With this gift, you shall harbor the living. You are able to summon creatures with the magic we will give you. Foliage and fauna with thrive around you, keeping you healthy and free of disease. You shall never perish of age, nor will your kits and their offspring. However, if you let your creatures and plant life suffer and die, you will in turn perish. You must care for your beings, as you cannot survive without them and they cannot survive without you.'

Suddenly fog billowed from seemingly no where, and the young cat was surrounded by it. An instant later the cat emerged, his back mottled by fresh grass. Small pine saplings dotted a portion of his back. He felt lively. Before the young cat could fully process what had happened, the mysterious three headed cat -- the Makers -- had vanished.

Over time, as the young cat aged, his small ecosystem grew with him. The pine saplings atop his back aged into mighty trees, and he conjured many species. His favorite, though, was always the humble sparrow." Xenus pauses, winking a sightless eye as his sparrow conjuration puffed up its feathers.

"It is said that the Makers live in this realm still, but only in the highest of mountains. They do not wish to be bothered, and if someone tries to find them they will cloak the area in fog, never to be seen."

Pronounciations
Xenus -- zeen-us
Byyrja -- be-ear-ya
Unum -- oon-oom
Gar -- gahrr

CURRENT SPECIES REFERENCES

RARITY GUIDE
CONJURATIONS
LIFE CYCLE

Ecoservals are a closed species by servals , you cannot make your own.

ecoservals