What I offer!
- Blurb: Something small, if you need a little bit of help getting a dragon's lore off the ground. These will be small and usually include a personality trait or two, as well as an event in that dragon's life. Nothing too deep or specific. Probably under 100 words.
- Bio Style: These are usually around 500 words, depending on how many details you'd like included. They are to the point and don't zoom in on the dragon's mind in the moment.
- Longform: These are deep cuts into your dragon's past and can be very long, depending on how many events take place in the lore. One single event will be around 400 words, so lots of events means a big chunk of lore. Note: I'll need a lot of information in order to get these completed to your liking (and my standards), so please be willing to stay in contact with me via PM so I know everything I need to get them done right.
Examples!
Blurb: Ehecatl from @
Chivalry's clan! (Because I haven't done blurbs for my own dragons rip also apologies for ping if you didn't want it)
Ehecatl grew up deep in the Gladeveins with a troop of Coatls. Because of this, he a). Speaks Coatl better than common draconic, and b). Speaks with a rare accent that is mostly understandable. He came to the clan to experience the world beyond the dense forest and to show others the traditions passed onto him from the coatls that raised him. He dances as a street performer to make ends meet.
Bio Style: Reanimated from my clan!
Death loves to play games with his victims. Sometimes he follows them and poisons those they love just to watch them suffer. Sometimes he makes them so miserable that they give in to him. This time, he’s made them unknowingly worship them.
He was born from the earth under the World Pillar, where the Arcanist’s energy merged with that of the Shade during the Second Age. He was reclusive, but he was kind to the new budding forms of life that he ever encountered. He didn’t know of his tainted heritage. But the deities could feel the presence of the Shade still on the land, and for hundreds of years, searched for the source of the dark energies.
The Earthshaker was the one to find him. He struck down Reanimated, known to himself as Soulpeace at the time, in a matter of seconds. For the second time in the history of Sornieth, a deity had killed another. Soulpeace became a spirit, nothing but an unpleasant memory in the deities’ minds.
But Soulpeace was still very unrestful. His spirit was angry at the deities for killing him unjustly. Even though he had the Shade’s magic within him, he was made of the dirt of Sornieth and the magic of the Arcanist. He waited in limbo, lacking enough power to bring himself back for thousands of years. All he could do during that time was thing about what the deities had done to him, and why they had hated him just because of who he was.
Dragonkind was thriving when Soulpeace felt powerful enough to return to a live form. He zeroed in on a recently dead imperial somewhere in the Gladekeeper’s land and went into it, thus binding him to life in a physical form. Surprisingly, he could still go to an incorporeal form at will, so he went back into the spiritual plane and pondered what to do now that he was back. As he was considering launching a coup against the deities, a pair of tundras with vicious, wolflike faces approached him. He was confused, what were mortal dragons doing here?
They told him of their thirst for power and of their home clan, just waiting to be brainwashed into believing just about anything. Soulpeace was surprised at these power tripping dragons, but he knew that he felt the same way as them. He agreed to the tundras’ plan of taking over the clan but only if he was given another vessel he could live through in the clan, so his image would remain a secret. The two brought him to a recently deceased pearlcatcher and asked if it would suit him. He said it would.
Excited to see if his powers weren’t diminished any, he tied the pearlcatcher’s soul to his own and bound the body to his life. The pearlcatcher, Sunstone, was made immortal by his actions. When Soulpeace’s new vessel rose, he asked for the name of the one who returned him to the world. He paused, suddenly not fond of his current name. He felt like he could not be referred to as his old self. Suddenly it hit him. Soulpeace grinned more wickedly than he ever had before.
“I am Reanimated, your new God. Follow me, and you shall receive power you could never imagine were it not for me.”
Mortals, stay away. Death now walks among the living.
Longform: Malvor from my clan! His lore is a WIP, but I think you'll get the picture.
"Pick up the pace, soft-scale!" The Ridgeback's voice boomed over the Pearlcatcher as he struggled to focus on his work. His algae green shoulders shook with pent up anger as he tried to figure out what was wrong with the machine. It was an old Stone Borer, picked up from the workshop to be serviced, but he couldn't find anything wrong with it. Its outer plating was pristine, the gleaming metal looking like it had never seen a day of work. Perhaps it was something to do with the internal mechanisms, not something on the outside.
"Well, Malvor? Are you just going to gawk at the thing or tell us what's wrong with it?" His supervisor stuck his overly pointy nose right in Malvor's face. "I- Uh- I think it's got something to do with the internal mechanisms. So, not the kind of work I'm cut out for."
"Of course you can't deal with its machinery!" His supervisor roared. "Remind me why we hired a whelp like you!" Malvor looked up at the larger dragon fearfully, his talons shivering nervously. He cast glances around the factory floor, other dragons diligently taking apart automatons for parts. They all wore surgestream coats and thick leather gloves to protect them from the electricity the machines threw sporadically. They didn't even look up as the supervisor roared at him, they were too busy attempting to make their own quotas to pay attention to some idiot who couldn't do his job.
"For the love of the Stormcatcher, Malvor, just go home." His supervisor grabbed him roughly and tossed him over his shoulder. He carried the smaller dragon through the factory, paying no attention to the dragons who looked up and tossed calculating, yet curious glances up at the Ridgeback. Malvor's frustration was palpable as the his supervisor carried him to the lobby of the factory and tossed him out the front door. "You'll be working double shift tomorrow to make up for this poor performance today." The factory's doors thudded shut behind him. Malvor slowly rose to a sitting position and looked out at the Shifting Expanse before him. He sighed.
The land was parched and cracked, the only signs of life being the occasional cactus and the dried scrub bushes. In the distance massive copper spires rose up to catch the lightning arcing down from the storm clouds above. The air felt hotter, the world more unstable, every time the lightning touched the earth. He shuddered as a particularly powerful strike coursed through the spire and into a reactor.
He hated it here.
But, he had no other choice. He had to stay, for now. He trudged away from the factory, with its steel chimneys spitting steam and smoke, and dejectedly made his way home.
***
The trek home wasn't awful, at least compared to his day at work. He only got electrocuted once. But the withering stare he got from his mother when he arrived home made the shocks feel like getting tickled by a feather.
"Malvor," She said curtly. "You're home early." He looked at his mother despondently. "Great observation skills, mother." He sniped. She scowled. "Your superior informed of how you acted at work today." She stared through him, voice laced with malice. "I'm ashamed of you." He put his head down and shouldered past her into his room, uninterested in hearing more of her griping.
He pulled off his coat and gloves and tossed them aside, not caring where they landed. He flopped ungracefully onto the floor, letting the air in his lungs rush out as his chest knocked on the ground. He stared at the wall, feeling tired and defeated. He sighed at the prospect of going to work tomorrow and seeing his supervisor and those stupid machines. He would kill to never have to go back there again. But he knew that leaving this place, this life, was impossible.
Or was it?
***
Was he really doing this? Was he really going to commit domestic theft, just so he could escape his job, his family, his current life?
If it meant the freedom he craved so badly, then he'd do anything.
He worked hard that day, powering through his double shift while his supervisor watched, obviously pleased that he was picking up the pace. He didn't even bother taking his scheduled breaks, for fear of his supervisor's disdain. When the day was finally over, he made his way to his supervisor's office, where the Ridgeback was busy scratching away at some paperwork.
"Ah, Malvor, come in." His supervisor waved him in kindly. Well, happy was a whole lot better than angry and impatient. Malvor seated himself in one of the stiff metal chairs in front of his supervisor's desk and wove his claws together.
"How can I help you, Malvor?" His supervisor asks without looking up. Malvor took a deep breath, mustering up the courage to speak. "I need a year's advance on my salary."
His supervisor's head shot up, his eyes narrowed into slits. "And why is that?" He stared at him skeptically. "My family's home was badly damaged by a storm last night, and we need money to make repairs." Malvor let the lie slip out of his mouth as he bit back the truth. His supervisor tilted his head. "Is that so? Well, if that's the case, I'm sure we can work something out." He rose from his chair and went to a cabinet on the back wall of his office. He threw open the doors, revealing pouches of treasure, tied off with string and arranged in neat rows on the shelves inside.
"Here we are," His supervisor hummed, grabbing three pouches from the shelf and tossing them onto the desk. "That should cover it." His supervisor said as he closed the cabinet. Malvor snatched up the bags and bowed to his supervisor before darting out of the office. He skirted other workers on their way out of the factory and took to the sky as soon as his talons touched the parched earth outside.
He'd done it.
