Information

Ruin

The Nightmare Clawsion
Owner: Hellian

Age: 1 day

Born: November 7th, 2026

Adopted: 1 day ago

Adopted: November 7th, 2026

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Statistics

• Level: 21
   
• Strength: 10
   
• Defense: 10
   
• Speed: 10
   
• Health: 10
   
• HP: 10/10
   
• Intelligence: 12
   
• Books Read: 12
• Food Eaten: 0
• Toys Played: 20
• Job: Grave Tender

RUINThere are many things in this world that have been given names they did not choose. Ruin is one of them. He does not remember where he came from, nor does he consider it particularly important. There are vague recollections of cold nights, damp stone and the occasional indignity of having to find his own dinner. Such matters are best left in the past. He is a black cat. He has golden eyes. He is perfectly aware that he is magnificent. And, as far as he is concerned, that is quite enough.His arrival at the garden of Anomander Rake was not planned. Ruin had been exploring. There had been walls to climb, birds to observe and several interesting places in which to sleep. Eventually, he came upon a garden enclosed by old stone walls, where an extraordinarily tall, pale haired gentleman was attempting to persuade a rosebush to behave itself. The gentleman appeared rather serious. Ruin decided he would do. He slipped through the garden gate, crossed the path and settled himself upon a wooden bench. When the gentleman looked up, Ruin returned his gaze without the slightest concern. "You're trespassing," the gentleman observed. Ruin blinked. It seemed an unnecessarily complicated way of saying hello. The gentleman returned to his gardening. Ruin considered this a reasonable arrangement. He stayed.It soon became apparent that his new companion was an unusual creature. He was quiet, though not unfriendly. He spoke to the plants, occasionally muttered at the weather and seemed to possess an unfortunate habit of remembering things that had happened a very long time ago. Ruin did not understand most of it. He understood that the gentleman had a warm lap, that his cloak made an excellent sleeping place and that the garden was full of interesting things to investigate. There was also a particular patch of sunlight beside the apple tree that Ruin had claimed as his own. The gentleman did not object. He called himself Anomander Rake. Ruin had no particular opinion on this. It was a rather long name for someone who was perfectly capable of answering to a soft whistle and the sound of a food bowl being filled. Eventually, Anomander gave him a name of his own. "Ruin," he said one afternoon, after discovering that the cat had knocked a small terracotta pot from the garden wall. Ruin sat among the scattered pieces. Anomander considered the damage. "An appropriate name, I think." Ruin agreed. It was a good name. Short, dignified and entirely suited to his talents.There was another name, however, that Anomander used when the garden was quiet and the evening shadows began to lengthen. "Come along, Little Darkness." Ruin rather liked that one. It was spoken differently from his proper name. More softly, with a warmth that Anomander rarely offered to the rest of the world. Ruin would appear from beneath the rosebushes, emerge from the garden shed or materialise beside his companion's boots as though he had been summoned from the shadows themselves. He became accustomed to accompanying Anomander on his daily rounds. He inspected the flowerbeds, supervised the pruning of the roses and occasionally assisted with the digging, although his contributions were rarely appreciated. He also developed a particular interest in the gardening gloves. They were warm, conveniently shaped and seemed to belong to him. Anomander disagreed. Ruin ignored him.Ruin has many important responsibilities. He must inspect every box that enters the house. He must ensure that no unattended food remains uninvestigated. He must sleep upon whatever book Anomander happens to be reading, preferably at the most inconvenient moment. He must also protect the garden from birds, insects, suspicious leaves and the occasional passing squirrel. His methods are somewhat unconventional. On one occasion, he spent the better part of an afternoon stalking a fallen leaf across the lawn. On another, he attempted to climb the rose trellis and became temporarily entangled in its branches. Anomander found him there. "Ruin." Ruin looked down. "Little Darkness." A pause. "Would you care to explain?" Ruin meowed. Anomander sighed, carefully disentangled him and carried him inside. Ruin considered the entire affair a successful afternoon.There are times when Anomander sits beneath the apple tree, watching the last light fade from the garden. On such evenings, Ruin curls beside him, sometimes upon his lap, sometimes against his boots. He does not ask questions about the past, nor does he expect explanations for the long silences. He simply stays. He has no understanding of Dragnipur, of ancient wars or of the sorrow that Anomander carries so quietly. He knows only that his companion occasionally becomes distant, that some nights are colder than others, and that a gentle nudge against a hand can sometimes bring him back. Ruin considers this a perfectly reasonable arrangement. The Moon Lord may have once carried the weight of worlds, but now he has a garden to tend, roses to prune and a cat to feed. Ruin, naturally, considers himself the most important of these responsibilities.And so he remains. A little darkness beneath the moon, a pair of golden eyes in the garden shadows, and a companion who has made himself quite at home beside one of the oldest beings in existence. He answers to Ruin. He answers, occasionally, to Little Darkness. But mostly, he answers to the sound of a food bowl being filled. After all, even the companion of the Moon Lord must have his priorities.
Custom Overlay, Background, Portrait, Profile and Story by Hellian

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