ShadowFoxclaw's Clan

Welcome to Zwnrifii
The call of the voice grows louder the further one wanders into the deep of Zwnrifii, requesting an audience. What does it want? Your curiosity is staved by the swift hospitality of the dragons within this strange clan, who will offer you just about the moon on a platter if it keeps you from reaching the very back of their home. For you see, Zwnrifii might be well-known as a place of services - many dragons find their way to the clan in times of famine and drought to request gathering services, or bodyguard work for a particularly noted member of Sornieth, or commissioned artwork to adorn a palace wall - but at the end of the day, no matter their trade, every one of its members is a guard for what dwells within the cave’s end. The voice calls in a shrill tone, and sometimes it sounds excited, or wanting, or playful. You wouldn’t know it, but the residents know: these are tricks. The source of the voice hasn’t dwelled their halls in many years - not in the form they once trusted, that is. This new voice, she stands for something dangerous. They just don’t know what yet, and finding out could very well kill them. Even the few that can stand close to her, request services from her, hold little faith in her...not that you would know any of this, of course.

(And if “she” appears before you, then there is something that she truly wants to impart upon you. There is little escape from this, but she shouldn’t attack you during visits of her own choosing. It is when she is unwillingly disturbed that the residents worry about.)

So it goes from day to day, fielding questions about the strange calls from the back of their home, completing their trade work, and preventing explorers and exploiters alike from dodging their security to reach the source of the voice - something Frostbite puts to an end as quickly as it begins, anyhow. Life here isn’t all doom, gloom, and deceased children, after all, though hearing any one of the residents’ life-stories could convince you otherwise. Sadness does hang around this bustling trade clan in a blanket thicker than the sheets of snow that slow one’s travel to the place to begin with - but they’ll do your best to have you ignore it. Plausible deniability, after all, is one of the things Zwnrifii trades out as easily as it does baskets of fish and insect catches.

Still, each dragon here makes the best of it all; the ice, the snow, the bite of the wind in their claws. It’s better than where each of them came from, despite the inconveniences. Perhaps that’s saying something of each of their lives.

Do you feel sorry for them?

The clan formed around the child, and subsequently her loss. She is the heart of their lives even in her absence; especially so now with the arrival of her ghost. Cane, Keeper, Monarchy - each of them work especially close to maintain the semblance of peace they have been trying to help Zwnrifii arrive at since the fatal close of her illness. Maybe you are a natural part of this process.

How does it feel to be a new human in their clan? How does it feel to stand where she once stood? They look at you, ready for you to keel over just as easily as she did, and before then, to act as she did - are you *you*, or are you here? A few aren’t entirely convinced that you are not one and the same, or connected in some sense. Watch your step here, human. Zwnrifii is always watching.

Clan lore by Hyzenthlaay



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