History

40

Lethrys

The Seadragon

Reaver of the Tides

"glub glub glub"

~Freeform

Player: @Uberturnip

Affiliations

Super Group

Protectors of the World

Rank

Charter Member

· Other Affiliations ·

Atlantis

Identity

Real Name

Lethrys

Aliases

None

Birthdate

?

Birthplace

Atlantis

Citizenship

Atlantean

Residence

None

Headquarters

None

Occupation

"Privateer"

Legal Status

Registered Hero; Former Supervillain

Marital Status

Single

· Known Relatives ·

Estranged

Physical Traits

Species

Atlantean

Sub-Type

Mutant

Manufacturer

N/A

Model

N/A

Ethnicity

Atlantean

Gender

Male

Apparent Age

Mid-twenties

Height

6'4

Weight

Approx. 350 pounds

Body Type

Athletic, Muscular

Hair

Green

Eyes

Yellow

Skin

Green

· Distinguishing Features ·

Scaly Skin, Bio-Luminescent Eyes, Fins on Biceps, Clawed Fingertips, Didactyl Feet

Powers & Abilities

· Known Powers ·

Superhuman Strength, Durability and Reflexes, Gift of Atlan, Hydrokinesis, Extradimensional Summoning

· Equipment ·

Oricalchum Alloy Armour, Mask of the Seadragon, Sceptre of Y'zgghua

· Other Abilities ·

Seadragon

Descendant of a noble lineage that could be traced back to Atlan himself and blessed with a mutant physiology that enabled him to shatter boulders with his bare hands, withstand the intense pressure of the deep ocean and rise above the waves without suffocating, Lethrys was born with the proverbial oricalchum spoon in his mouth. Inquisitive and impressionable, he subscribed to the unpopular - nay, borderline heretical - view that Atlantis should not content itself with a tiny stretch of the wide ocean while Lander civilisation flourished above, that the great god Poseidon would look favourably upon expansion and - dare he say it? - conquest? After all, was Poseidon not the god of all seas? And as his chosen people, did they not owe it to their lord to spread his teachings far and wide? Surely he had gifted Lethrys and others with great power for a reason?

Of course, it was mostly just youthful bravado and hot steam - Lethrys had the means and consequently the desire to explore the world beyond the walls of Atlantis, yet his traditionalist family stubbornly held him back. They decided service in the Atlantean army would quell his hotheaded tendencies and impart some old-fashioned military discipline, all the while putting his considerable power to good use. By all accounts he acquitted himself well and the warrior's life certainly agreed with him, but ultimately did little to curb his outspoken views. In fact, it endeared him to other likeminded individuals, more fervent in their conviction - but more subtle in their displays of it. A heretical cult that called itself the True Sons of Poseidon. As cults went, they were pretty inconsequential - but they hoped a noble figurehead could change all that.

The one piece of evidence to support their claim of Poseidon's favour was the possession of an ancient oricalchum helmet known as the Mask of the Seadragon. The legend goes that the helmet was forged by Poseidon himself for his chosen champion and his chosen champion alone; any others who dared don the Mask would suffocate until it was removed or they died. While the helmet itself was probably a random curio looted from a vault somewhere, that part of the legend held true - and, shocking absolutely no-one remotely clued up on origin stories, Lethrys was the only one who could wear it without choking to death.

Not that the revolution ever really got off the seabed. All it took was one cultist getting a little too vocal after too much seaweed wine for the authorities to go knocking on doors and making pointed inquiries. Atlantis had quite enough uprisings for once century. Lethrys was detained for a time and questioned. After it was ascertained that he hadn't actually done anything illegal per se, merely donned a silly hat and attended a few rituals and ceremonies, he was released - and barred from military service. Having shamed his family name with his heretical ways, the disgraced scion left Atlantis to see the world - but he took the Mask with him.

As it turned out, he had a knack for adventure. After a year of aimless wandering, living off the land and leaving a trail of battered sharks, barbarian hordes and gigantic sea monsters in his wake, he began to recieve strange dreams. It was always the same: swimming alone through a sunken city, one far different to Atlantis. Empty winding halls reduced to desolate ruins, crumbling spires twisted into puzzling configurations that brought stinging tears to his eye, the remains of silent statues that had precious little to do with the human form - some menacingly clutching tridents, others with heads uncannily reminiscent of Lethrys' Mask. Despite the unsettling alien architecture, one familiar sight always awaited him before he woke, after spending hours of swimming through the murky waters - the briefest glimpse of a statue of Poseidon.

He always awoke from these dreams burning with fever and wearing the Mask - regardless of whether he had donned it prior to falling asleep. He took the dreams as a sign, a portent - perhaps even a summons. He was meant to find this lost city, and the Mask would show him the way. There was no deductive reasoning behind this notion - it just seemed right. And it was.

His search spanned the better part of a year. He found what he was looking for in the deep ocean, where the intense pressure taxed even his enhanced body and no conventional building should have been possible. But there it was: on the outside the temple was a small, squat, ruined thing, although it nonetheless exhibited the same alien architecture he recognised from the dream city - just in miniature. But on the inside... It stretched into infinity.

The city was even more staggeringly incomprehensible than it was in the dream world. Lethrys got the distinct impression that the Mask in some way filtered his perceptions, allowed him to traverse a realm that existed far outside of the mundane three dimensions. Wearing it, he could - with some difficulty - trace a path through the city. But without, he'd be no better than blind - or go stark, raving mad on the spot. Time slipped away as he wandered that crooked labyrinth. Perhaps mere hours passed. Perhaps days or weeks, months or even years - it lost any semblance of meaning. And those streets were far less deserted than they were in the dream world; shambling, vaguely cephalopodean, horrors stalked the shadows. They were for the most part content to silent watch the visitor, but a few tried their luck - but despite their freakish strength, Lethrys refused to be bested.

In the end, he found the statue that had haunted his dreams. And to his amazement it spoke to him. In a resonant, sonorous voice that came from everywhere and yet nowhere, that caused the surrounding masonry to crack and rumble, it announced that it was Poseidon, and this was his realm - or what was left of it. The negligence of his chosen people and their misguided beliefs had reduced it to a twisted mockery of its former splendor. But should Lethrys pledge himself to the service of his god as chosen champion and worldly conquerer, should he go forth and spread Poseidon's influence to every inch of the ocean, it would be great once again. There really was no question. Upon bowed knee, Lethrys accepted his charge.

The world blurred and he found back in the world he recognised. And while he hadn't noticed it from his time in Poseidon's realm, he had changed. His green skin had darkened and was now encrusted with a fine layer of fishlike scales, his eyes shone with a sulphurous bio-luminescence, his hands and feet were wickedly clawed and - perhaps most importantly of all - his strength and speed were beyond anything he had previously known. As long as he remained beneath the waves, he could hear Poseidon's voice, deep and watery - as if the god coaxed the sea itself to speak on his behalf. But that wasn't all - in his hands he clutched a great oricalchum trident, fashioned to resemble a series of twisting, intertwining tentacles. This was, the voice explained, the Sceptre of Poseidon - with it, Lethrys could bend and shape water to his whim and open swirling vortices to the sunken realm Beyond.

Lethrys' first act of business was to dub himself the Seadragon, and use his newfound power to raise an old shipwreck from the seabed to serve as his vessel. In time, he would return to Atlantis a conquering hero, but for the moment he knew that they'd never accept the truth of what he'd seen and heard - that he'd be branded a heretic and locked away. So he recruited from the known barbarian tribes, promising untold glory and riches to all who would serve on his crew. It started small - random acts of piracy against ships unlucky enough to cross his path. He typically let his victims survive to carry word back to the Landers, the legend of the Seadragon grew. That was his plan: they'd learn to fear him and by extension they'd fear his lord - and with that fear comes belief. Poseidon would grow strong again.

Years passed.

He faced many challenges during his campaign - Lander heroes, the Lemurians and others - and while there were often setbacks, he rose above them all. But his winning streak couldn't last forever. After one particularly gruelling battle against an elite strike team led by the aquatic power armour superhero Deepdiver, he and his crew were defeated and dragged back to Atlantis to face judgment under Atlantean law. The Seadragon's activities had become something of an obstacle to Atlantean diplomatic relations and in order to smooth things over with the Landers, to prove without a shadow of a doubt they had no involvement in this, a public condemnation was felt the wisest course of action. Not the homecoming he had in mind.

From his cell, Lethrys raved about what he had seen and heard, how Poseidon had made him his champion and set him to plunder in his name. But his protests fell on deaf ears - all who deigned to listen regarded him with a mixture of shame and pity. 'Poseidon told me to do it' is not exactly a solid legal defense. All save one; an elderly scholar who listened intently, pressed him for details, elaboration. With a sad shake of his head, he revealed that Lethrys had been decieved, that it was not Poseidon to whom he had pledged his soul. Surviving fragments of ancient scrolls from past millennia spoke of Atlantean sorcerers inadvertantly making contact with an extradimensional entity. He held many epithets - Speaker of the Thousandfold Lie, Face Dancer, the Chittering Dark, the Drowned King, God-Eater, but his name was Y'zgghua. (Ih-zug-hoo-ah)

Y'zgghua was believed to be a deity (or perhaps, to those more knowledgeable about the multiverse, a dimension lord) of a dying, aquatic realm that had found a way to subsist on the belief of other universes by impersonating water gods and stealing their followers - a kind of divine parasite. The Mask and Sceptre were its artifacts, and it had preyed upon Lethrys' ambition, insecurities and naivete, taking advantage of his need for validation. There had also been a degree of brainwashing stemming from his time spent in the mind-warping city but it was felt that Lethrys' choices and actions were ultimately his own - and any true follower of Poseidon would have known the deception for what it truly was.

Lethrys, dismayed by this revelation, renounced his false god and sunk into a deep melancholy. But even though he had been revealed as an imposter, Y'zgghua was not so quick to relinquish his hold on his champion - he was quick to remind Lethrys to whom his soul now belonged, and after his execution he'd have an eternity in Y'zgghua's sunken domain to look forward to. After all, what did he think the hideou screatures he'd fought there were, if not his other followers? That was all the encouragement the disgraced Atlantean needed to break himself out of prison and go on the lam - but not before retrieving the Mask and Sceptre from the vault they'd been stashed away in.

Lethrys found himself falling back into old habits. Once again he donned the mantle of the Seadragon, but for his own reasons - no matter how much Y'zgghua's amused chittering asserted otherwise. What at first seemed to be a run-of-the-mill act of piracy became the turning point in his career. He snuck aboard a cruise liner in order to relieve it of its cargo, but as it turned out a roving band of karkaradons had a similar idea. They clashed and he singlehandedly fought them off. The captain rushed to the deck, mistook Seadragon for a superhero and thanked him profusely for his efforts, even - in an ironic twist of fate - offering him some of the very cargo Lethrys had been planning to steal. Humbled, Lethrys politely refused and took his leave, returning to the depths.

In the following weeks, trying his best to shut out the voice of his former master, he'd dramatically re-evaluate his life. He couldn't return to Atlantis, and his actions had driven him from the sight of the true Poseidon. But he could make reparations with the surface world. And he could certainly search for a way to rid himself of Y'zgghua's influence forever.

Recent Activities

Despite being on the lam from Atlantis, Seadragon became something of a self-appointed privateer, zealously patrolling the world's oceans and tackling all manner of threats - above and below. Lemurians, karkaradons and miscallaneous sea monsters earned the brunt of his wrath, but mundane criminals from the surface - smugglers, whalers, pirates - have not escaped his notice. In fact, he's become something of a nigh-mythical boogeyman in Somalia.

In a bizarre twist of fate, Seadragon saved Deepdiver - the very hero that sent him back to Atlantis in chains - from a gruesome demise at the jaws of a kraken. Bemused but grateful, Deepdiver offered to intercede with Atlantis on Seadragon's behalf under the condition that he officially register with UNTIL - obtain his superheroic letter of marque, as it were. Despite initial skepticism, Seadragon agreed. As it happened, news of Seadragon's fervent attempts to redeem himself had already trickled back to Atlantis and, after some tense negotiations, Deepdiver managed to convince the Atlanteans to drop 'execution' in favour of 'lifelong exile'.

Powers

• Atlantean Physiology: As an Atlantean, Seadragon differs from a regular, surface-dwelling humans in several distinct ways. His primary habitat is underwater, and he features a number of biological adaptations suited to life beneath the waves. He breathes water, his body is stronger and hardier to cope with water pressure and a more strenuous means of movement, his eyes are bio-luminescent and possess a protective nictating membrane, he is resistant to the cold, his ears and vocal chords are fine-tuned for underwater speech and his sense of three-dimensional spacial awareness is more acute. On top of that, he possesses a number of what are known as 'mystical mutations' - traits that set him above and beyond his aquatic peers.

• Gift of Atlan: Perhaps the most widespread Atlantean mutation, conferring the ability to survive on land, in the open air, for hours at a time.

• Superhuman Strength: Seadragon's bone and muscle density is far greater than that of an ordinary Atlantean - and his physical prowess was enhanced even further by the warping influence of the City of Y'zgghua. He occupies the upper-middle tier of metahuman might, though his exact limits have yet to be quantified.

• Superhuman Resilience: Seadragon is adapted to the intense crushing pressure of the deep ocean. As an added bonus, this confers a degree of general durability - he can shrug off extreme blunt trauma, blades and small arms fire. But while he may be one tough son-of-a-fish, he's far from invincible - Seadragon bleeds and feels pain; while a group of street thugs with automatics and tire irons might not pose a remote threat, other supers and metabusting weaponry are another matter entirely.

• Superhuman Agility & Reflexes: Above or below, Seadragon can move with an uncanny level of swiftness, grace and coordination. His reaction time is sufficient to dodge bullets and pluck incoming arrows from the air.

• Hydrokinesis: Seadragon can harness the Sceptre of Y'zgghua to shape and control any visible body of water. This requires concentration and mental fortitude. The greater the volume, the greater the effort required - and complex manipulations may require he perform a series of seamless gestures, approximating a ritualised dance, that mimic the desired flow.

• Portals: With difficulty, Seadragon can use the Sceptre to open swirling vortices that twist space, granting passage to any other body of water that Seadragon can clearly picture in his mind. Opening watery rifts in the time/space continuum is extremely mentally draining and the destination must be aquatically linked; able to trace a physical route through water - however convoluted - from A to B. Thus, he can travel from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific, but Lake Superior to Loch Ness is simply out of the question.

• Extradimensional Summoning: The Sceptre can also open vortices into the realm of Y'zgghua and beckon forth the grasping, pummelling, flailing tentacles of its abominable Lovecraftian denizens. But he has strong reservations about attempting that and usually so does everyone else.

Skills & Abilities

• Atlantean Pankration: Seadragon is skilled in a traditional Atlantean form of unarmed combat that bears a striking resemblance to the pankration of the ancient Greeks, albeit adapted into a more refined, manueverable fighting style suited to underwater combat.

• Military Training: Seadragon was extensively drilled in the usage of spears, swords and shields (the latter of which, admittedly, he has little need for), along with small unit tactics.

• Athletic Prowess: Surprising absolutely no-one, Seadragon is an extremely fast swimmer.

• Charisma: As a noble scion, Lethrys was groomed for leadership duties in the military, which certainly served him well after taking up the life of a pirate captain. He can be a persuasive talker when he cares to be, but his lack of patience and distaste for duplicity makes him ill-suited to a political arena.

• Aquatic Lore: Seadragon is a worldly adventurer and familiar with all manner of esoteric underwater trivia - geography, exotic flora and fauna, myths and legends, etc. Some of it he was taught during his childhood, the rest he gleaned first-hand during his travels. He has more than a passing familiarity with the principles of Atlantean magic, although his knowledge his purely academic - he hasn't the knack for sorcery.

Equipment

• Mask of the Seadragon: The Mask is an enclosed oricalchum helmet that depicts a disturbingly alien visage. The Mask will suffocate any save the chosen champion of Y'zgghua that deign to wear it. Above and beyond that, it has one practical use: it filters eldritch space, enabling Seadragon to percieve and navigate twisted and horrifying non-euclidean alien geometries without losing his sanity. Precisely how and why an extradimensional artifact would be constructed of oricalchum is something of a mystery. Lethrys speculates that it shares in its master's talent for duplicity, adopting the form of an appropriate Atlantean treasure.

• Sceptre of Y'zgghua: A magical artifact crafted from an undeterminable gold-tinted metal. In its default configuration it appears as a long, ornate trident with a 'head' fashioned in the semblance of intertwining tentacles, but it is capable of changing shape at a moment's notice - extending, retracting, even shifting and coiling. At times, it seems to be more living creature than weapon - something akin to a three-tentacled squid with an elongated, serpentine body. Possession of the Sceptre endows Seadragon with the ability to manipulate water and open space-tearing vortices. It can also be used to hit people.

• Oricalchum Alloy Armour: Seadragon's 'costume' incorporates lightweight armour forged from oricalchum and bronze alloy.

• The Driftwood: Seadragon's current living space and preferred means of transportation is an old, ghostly shipwreck raised from the depths. With the power of the Sceptre, he can generate a current that can not only keep the wreck (which hasn't been seaworthy since the 17th century) afloat, but propel it across the sea at alarmingly high speeds. For purposes of brand recognition, Seadragon flies a tattered flag bearing his own distinct sigil.

Weaknesses

• Dehydration & Heat: While perfectly capable of breathing air for extended periods, Seadragon requires frequent immersion in water in order to survive - or failing that, a tall glass of the stuff. Otherwise he'll begin to suffer adverse effects: intense, strength-sapping lethargy and difficulty breathing, culminating in suffocation and death. Heat and intense flames are his biggest weaknesses - not only is being burnt a singularly strange and unpleasant sensation to a water dweller (not that Landers are terribly enthused by the prospect...) but hot temperatures dry him out too quickly.

• Weak Spot: Being punched in the gills hurts like hell.

• Technology: As someone that grew up in the sea, Lethrys is not tech-savvy in the slightest. Out of a misguided sense of Atlantean pride, a dash of superstition, a pinch of culture shock and plain old stubbornness, he can't quite bring himself to trust Lander technology and avoids using it if at possible. (His futile attempts to install Windows on a laptop resulted in several mortified IT technicians threatened with the 'wrath of Poseidon' and the laptop in question hurled to the bottom of the ocean to be forgotten by all save a mildly concussed dolphin.) As a result, he often underestimates how effective tech can be - particularly when it's used against him.

• Cultural Ignorance: Seadragon tries his damndest to atone for past mistakes, but frequently finds himself at odds with what he perceives as bizarrely nuanced Lander laws, incomprehensible customs and miles of obstructive, bureaucratic red tape undermining everything he accomplishes. While he's slowly adapting to life on the surface, it is readily apparent that he is in many respects - if you'll excuse the atrocious pun - a fish out of water.

• Temperment: Lethrys is highly intelligent, but seldom bothers to apply that intellect. He cares little for tactical planning or convoluted scheming, preferring simple, direct challenges and straight-up glorious battle. That said, he understands the merits of teamwork well enough and generally refrains from anything that would blatantly jeopardise a mission or the wellbeing of his compatriots.

Personality

Lethrys typically carries himself with haughtily aloof dignity and an unyielding sense of personal pride. But his outward icy calm conceals - often poorly - a fundamentally moody, tempestuous nature - he is easily driven to anger, prone to bouts of recklessness and in his impatience often eschews reasoned debate in favour of a quick and simple solution. But he is far from unintelligent - he's simply impatient and subscribes to the 'Gordian Knot' school of problem solving. If a matter can be resolved quickly and decisively then by all means it should be. Much of his arrogance and bluster is dramatic overcompensation, a mask to hide his bitterness and loss of self-worth from the world and, to a lesser extent, himself. Despite his flaws, Lethrys is far from anti-social. Quite the opposite - on a good day, he's charismatic and outspoken, even personable in a distant sort of way.

Lethrys clings to a rigid and somewhat antiquated sense of honour, albeit one that's been battered and eroded over the years. He's honest to a fault and has little tolerance for duplicity and manipulation. He spites his permanent exile by stubbornly conducting himself as he feels an Atlantean noble should - a coping measure to deal with his acute homesickness. To his credit, he realises deep down that ultimately, he is the one to blame for the situation he now finds himself in and always strives to do the right thing to atone for past mistakes - even though his notion of what 'the right thing' actually entails may occasionally differ from that of his peers.

Although he has grown a measure of respect for the surface world - at least, the parts of it that aren't greedy, ocean-polluting profiteers - his brief time among the landers has not been sufficient to rid him of certain outdated misconceptions and superstitions. Modern technology is particularly baffling and a source of constant frustration, and deception at the tendrils of Y'zgghua has left him extremely mistrustful of supernatural entities and, to a lesser extent, powers that lie outside the scope of his knowledge.

Artwork