Dragonheart Core

Throughout the Skylands, light bloomed.

Fitting, really—three deaths and plenty of combat, enough for my creatures to sup their fill of mana and experience. All over, evolution hummed and crackled with ready anticipation, potential wrapped up inside bared teeth. The corpses, already being stripped away and repurposed; the mana form that consumed.

My own core was bursting at the seam with excess, too much already flowing into the ambient air. Hells, that sucked.

But no matter. I dove into my creatures.

The first was high above on the islands, head raised and black eyes bright—the mist-fox who entrapped Alda and illusioned them right into proper paranoia. She was an elder thing by my standards, part of the original pack I'd created when I'd gotten their schema, much larger than her nestmates with burnished silver fur and a tail that was never in less than five separate forms. Evolution dulled her mind, tugged her towards sleep, but I could feel the pride of watching invaders tumble off a cliff by her doing. A lovely beast.

Congratulations! Your creature, a Mist-fox, is undergoing evolution!

Please select your desired path.

Cloudcaller Fox (Rare): In a land of storms, it fades to become one alongside. With every step or shift of its tail, new clouds come roiling to the surface, all laced with illusions and impossible to discern where the right path is to go.

Smoke-fox (Rare): To choose mist is to choose passivity. This creature takes for a choking approach, weaving its illusions through the grit and grime of smoke; prey is entranced deeper within, following its lies, until they succumb to suffocation.