I'm very busy at work right now so please see page FOUR + of my lair for all the dragons listed on the AH! Wildclaw only!
Dragons For Sale
Arrange the purchasing and selling of dragons.
TOPIC | [S] Wildclaw XXYs - pox/tox/opal or glim
I'm very busy at work right now so please see page FOUR + of my lair for all the dragons listed on the AH! Wildclaw only!
[center]
[b]THE BLIGHT GAZE PACK[/b]
[/center]
Hailing originally from the Shrieking Wilds - The Blight Gaze Pack was a small concentration of pre-pubescents wildclaws left orphaned after brutal skirmishes nearest the Wandering Contagion left their nesting grounds defiled and parents dead. With their native territory destroyed and no true warriors left alive to protect them, they banded together and fled west -- terrified of the pulsating plague that threatened to overtake, and either mutate or devour them.
Lead de-facto by the fiercest, the passionate young female who would later rename herself Benkaei, they searched fruitlessly -- frantically, for a new place to call home.
It took years.
The first months were spent within the Starfall Isles, dodging both curious natives and the crystalline beasts that plagued the Starwood Strand. They found the region's unstable energy fields exhausting, several of the more magically gifted survivors left terribly debilitated (and forever warped) by the constant exposure. What little ground they made traveling was often delayed further by frantic fights with unusual wildlife and time spent attempting to recuperate.
It was more than a trial by strength. Those that survived grew quick and wary, lean and as unforgiving as their circumstances.
"Look sharp," muttered Bakenra, eventual mate of Benkaei, "It's the only option we have."
When they finally recovered enough to cross east, the broken landscape of the Windswept Plateau offered them little in the way of welcoming. Build and bred for open earth or lush jungles, the pack was overwhelmed.
"We are bleached and broken!" cried Butau, one of the mages. "This wind will scour our bones away faster than the rapids it lies upon!"
"Don't lose heart yet," spat Dario, another of those affected by magical warping. "You may have just given us our best chance yet. Isn't water the source of all life?"
He wasn't completely wrong.
What it lacked in natural substance for the pack, the Sea of a Thousand Currents offered piace in subsistence. Ripe with empty loam to cultivate temporary lairs, abundant wildlife sprung plenty of hunting. Fatter and slowly happy, hoarding became habit. Peaceful, passing Maren suddenly began trading, and a plethora of new materials were finally passing through their weary claw-tips.
Mages picked up tomes of teaching, crafting, learning.The warriors shuffled, training, conversing. The aquatic Maren did not have many weapons but they did have some interesting flight-and-fight techniques.
Nebet was the first to mention it.
"Think of such a thing! We can take an example from our new Beastclan allies and improve on it?! We fled from death and poison, but why? WHY!? With alchemy and slow immunity, why can't we outpace it! Why not turn poison into positive? What would dare attack us if we were too dangerous to touch?"
Her idealistic attitude wont them all over, leading into great involvement of tonics and toxins. The entire pack became dynamically invested in the idea of change through chemicals -- even going as far as to attract a few interested Water flight refugees.
A shame it wasn't the only interested party though.
Serthis soon attacked.
Having been left by their larger parent sect only several leagues away, the generational horde cleverly used underwater caves to flood the unfamiliar raptors out, keen to steal both secrets and supplies.
"Run!” came the shout, their make-shift homes collapsing. “Let them have it, as the knowledge is ours already! We fight in pairs, not in a flood!”
Coordinated efforts kept the main bulk of the Bright Gazer's alive but they were once again forced to flee, their growing settlement forgotten: temporary peace shattered. Over the next couple of weeks they were pursued relentlessly towards Lighting flight territory, and all but into the maw of Carrion Canyon itself.
A solo scout saved them.
Fainofrebai was the ranger-warrior of another small group lost roaming the torn landscape, a mixed group of defectors who all had long stories of their own.
"Strength in numbers?" he asked, cautious. Even Lighting exiles were not fast friends of many.
"Agreed,” hissed the remnants, “..but keep in mind that we flee south-west. What snake-man would dare follow us into ice?"
The responding laugh was dry. "Pfft-ha-ha! What ANYTHING would?"
Everyone traveled with renewed haste.
Travel was harsh, but this time the pack was used to it. Or at least better prepared -- who could say? The bitter white landscape that welcomed them all held no threat that was worse than those before. Eventually they even grew accustomed to the plummeting temperatures so different from their distant homelands.
With clear skies and minimal hardships, many of the group began muttering just how peaceful the barren (if incredibly savage) landscape actually was...
But Benkaei had long since had enough. They had spent most of their early youth in flight! Had their parents not been proud warriors?!
When they eventually came to an old forest nestled stubbornly between tundra and the base of the Cloudscrape Crags, the opportunity was too good to pass up.
"I'm sick of running!!" she screeched at the pale sky, "What good will it do us to scrape out another new existence here if we are nothing but lost interlopers! Bring the remaining potions, and all those who would commit! We pledge ourselves over to this place to finish what we started back on the coast!”
[center]“…!….”[/center]
None sworn into the pack will speak details on the events that followed. The secret to their rebirth (and thus the clan’s private customs) is still kept tightly clenched between bared teeth.
All anyone will whisper of is that it that it involves equal parts strength, alchemy and magic.
..and that who it doesn’t kill, it invigorates with zealotous spirit.
“All hail the Icewarden!”
[center]“All hail the Icewarden!”[/center]
[right][b]“All hail the Icewarden!”[/b]
[img]http://media.tumblr.com/60ef7cc0c7f3e086043ea8e758cfdcf5/tumblr_inline_njviz9jZLy1qg2i5p.png[/img]
[/right]
-----------------------------------------------
Primarily [b]warriors[/b] of some degree, the Blight Gaze Pack acts as a highly suspicious, highly specialised team of roaming warriors dispatched by the Fortress Of Ends to mobilize offensively on private orders. They are equal measures mercenaries and zealotous refugees, unusual raptor adoptees quickly acclimating to the service of their beloved Icewarden.
Be it the escort of artifact caravans or fossil-collecting teams, the Blight Gazers always take a percentage or goods in lieu as payment for their devotion. If asked to raid or attack, you can guarantee that these cruel predators will take a good percentage of what isn’t nailed.
[b]:Hoarfrost Hearth:[/b]Their pale settlement is more than half-hidden into the landscape, prickled pines acting as a natural camouflage barrier to hide the bone, marble and ice-carved homes below. Equal measures above and below ground, this central “meeting hall” is little more than a large mineral-fed fire where each of the pack feast on slabs of white stone. The riches plundered (or, sometimes gathered!..) from their various escapades decorate the hall in a gluttonous manner. Fanciful windows carved, fitted, and enchanted with ice reflect a rainbow kaleidoscope of southern ice-field colors.
[indent][b]Note:[/b] Individual lairs each have their own personal plunder, private nesting pits often hidden further behind trap doors or ingenious locking mechanisms. After all, isn't a large clutch tempting even to friendly neighbor? Permanent pairings always nest together. It’s rare to see more than three to a home.[/indent]
[b]:Wintersbreath:[/b] Deep underground behind several magical barriers and guarded at all times by at least least one warrior-pairing, this main alchemy hub holds no rune-written records of the clans private recipes. Everything is painstakingly memorized and passed down by primal right of first-hand apprenticeship. Treaties with the distant family of blood-kin ensure a steady supply of trade goods from other Flights, so the workshops are all well stocked-- if a little archaic in design. It’s here that the Pack’s colorful tonics, poisons and toxins are concocted.
[b]:Chillspike Command:[/b] A barren pit strew with old stains, all those seeking blood-kin right (pack adoption) must be chained to a large chunk of ice in the center and left to weather three trials. The first two are always tailored to suit the appealing individual, but the third is always the consumption of the poisons that gives the pack it’s trademark weapon: poisonous blood and hide. Only one in four survive. Those who do not, are honored as exalted in the service of the warden. [indent]
[b]Note: [/b]This dangerous right of passage also gives each individual their own unique markings, so while unified in ferocity, the clan sports a chromatic range of color combinations. Some of them are more than a little florid.
[b]Note:[/b] Pack pecking order is also decided here in the form of duels. Both parties must decide on the type of dueling but it’s almost always a show of strength. Wildclaw hierarchy has always been decided by prowess. [/indent]
[center][img]http://40.media.tumblr.com/b696359c360fcbbd19ced588add601e0/tumblr_inline_nll45gucJM1qg2i5p_400.png[/img]
[/center]
[center][b]:Blight Pack trademarks: [/b][/center]
[LIST]
[*][b]Wildclaws ONLY: [/b]
No XYZ allowed.
[*][b]CANNOT be plague[/b] for obvious reasons. All who chose to nest plague are considered exiles!
[i](what you do with your dragon once you adopt them is up to you!)[/i]
[/LIST]
THE BLIGHT GAZE PACK
Hailing originally from the Shrieking Wilds - The Blight Gaze Pack was a small concentration of pre-pubescents wildclaws left orphaned after brutal skirmishes nearest the Wandering Contagion left their nesting grounds defiled and parents dead. With their native territory destroyed and no true warriors left alive to protect them, they banded together and fled west -- terrified of the pulsating plague that threatened to overtake, and either mutate or devour them.
Lead de-facto by the fiercest, the passionate young female who would later rename herself Benkaei, they searched fruitlessly -- frantically, for a new place to call home.
It took years.
The first months were spent within the Starfall Isles, dodging both curious natives and the crystalline beasts that plagued the Starwood Strand. They found the region's unstable energy fields exhausting, several of the more magically gifted survivors left terribly debilitated (and forever warped) by the constant exposure. What little ground they made traveling was often delayed further by frantic fights with unusual wildlife and time spent attempting to recuperate.
It was more than a trial by strength. Those that survived grew quick and wary, lean and as unforgiving as their circumstances.
"Look sharp," muttered Bakenra, eventual mate of Benkaei, "It's the only option we have."
When they finally recovered enough to cross east, the broken landscape of the Windswept Plateau offered them little in the way of welcoming. Build and bred for open earth or lush jungles, the pack was overwhelmed.
"We are bleached and broken!" cried Butau, one of the mages. "This wind will scour our bones away faster than the rapids it lies upon!"
"Don't lose heart yet," spat Dario, another of those affected by magical warping. "You may have just given us our best chance yet. Isn't water the source of all life?"
He wasn't completely wrong.
What it lacked in natural substance for the pack, the Sea of a Thousand Currents offered piace in subsistence. Ripe with empty loam to cultivate temporary lairs, abundant wildlife sprung plenty of hunting. Fatter and slowly happy, hoarding became habit. Peaceful, passing Maren suddenly began trading, and a plethora of new materials were finally passing through their weary claw-tips.
Mages picked up tomes of teaching, crafting, learning.The warriors shuffled, training, conversing. The aquatic Maren did not have many weapons but they did have some interesting flight-and-fight techniques.
Nebet was the first to mention it.
"Think of such a thing! We can take an example from our new Beastclan allies and improve on it?! We fled from death and poison, but why? WHY!? With alchemy and slow immunity, why can't we outpace it! Why not turn poison into positive? What would dare attack us if we were too dangerous to touch?"
Her idealistic attitude wont them all over, leading into great involvement of tonics and toxins. The entire pack became dynamically invested in the idea of change through chemicals -- even going as far as to attract a few interested Water flight refugees.
A shame it wasn't the only interested party though.
Serthis soon attacked.
Having been left by their larger parent sect only several leagues away, the generational horde cleverly used underwater caves to flood the unfamiliar raptors out, keen to steal both secrets and supplies.
"Run!” came the shout, their make-shift homes collapsing. “Let them have it, as the knowledge is ours already! We fight in pairs, not in a flood!”
Coordinated efforts kept the main bulk of the Bright Gazer's alive but they were once again forced to flee, their growing settlement forgotten: temporary peace shattered. Over the next couple of weeks they were pursued relentlessly towards Lighting flight territory, and all but into the maw of Carrion Canyon itself.
A solo scout saved them.
Fainofrebai was the ranger-warrior of another small group lost roaming the torn landscape, a mixed group of defectors who all had long stories of their own.
"Strength in numbers?" he asked, cautious. Even Lighting exiles were not fast friends of many.
"Agreed,” hissed the remnants, “..but keep in mind that we flee south-west. What snake-man would dare follow us into ice?"
The responding laugh was dry. "Pfft-ha-ha! What ANYTHING would?"
Everyone traveled with renewed haste.
Travel was harsh, but this time the pack was used to it. Or at least better prepared -- who could say? The bitter white landscape that welcomed them all held no threat that was worse than those before. Eventually they even grew accustomed to the plummeting temperatures so different from their distant homelands.
With clear skies and minimal hardships, many of the group began muttering just how peaceful the barren (if incredibly savage) landscape actually was...
But Benkaei had long since had enough. They had spent most of their early youth in flight! Had their parents not been proud warriors?!
When they eventually came to an old forest nestled stubbornly between tundra and the base of the Cloudscrape Crags, the opportunity was too good to pass up.
"I'm sick of running!!" she screeched at the pale sky, "What good will it do us to scrape out another new existence here if we are nothing but lost interlopers! Bring the remaining potions, and all those who would commit! We pledge ourselves over to this place to finish what we started back on the coast!”
“…!….”
None sworn into the pack will speak details on the events that followed. The secret to their rebirth (and thus the clan’s private customs) is still kept tightly clenched between bared teeth.
All anyone will whisper of is that it that it involves equal parts strength, alchemy and magic.
..and that who it doesn’t kill, it invigorates with zealotous spirit.
“All hail the Icewarden!”
“All hail the Icewarden!”
“All hail the Icewarden!”
Primarily warriors of some degree, the Blight Gaze Pack acts as a highly suspicious, highly specialised team of roaming warriors dispatched by the Fortress Of Ends to mobilize offensively on private orders. They are equal measures mercenaries and zealotous refugees, unusual raptor adoptees quickly acclimating to the service of their beloved Icewarden.
Be it the escort of artifact caravans or fossil-collecting teams, the Blight Gazers always take a percentage or goods in lieu as payment for their devotion. If asked to raid or attack, you can guarantee that these cruel predators will take a good percentage of what isn’t nailed.
:Hoarfrost Hearth:Their pale settlement is more than half-hidden into the landscape, prickled pines acting as a natural camouflage barrier to hide the bone, marble and ice-carved homes below. Equal measures above and below ground, this central “meeting hall” is little more than a large mineral-fed fire where each of the pack feast on slabs of white stone. The riches plundered (or, sometimes gathered!..) from their various escapades decorate the hall in a gluttonous manner. Fanciful windows carved, fitted, and enchanted with ice reflect a rainbow kaleidoscope of southern ice-field colors.
Note: Individual lairs each have their own personal plunder, private nesting pits often hidden further behind trap doors or ingenious locking mechanisms. After all, isn't a large clutch tempting even to friendly neighbor? Permanent pairings always nest together. It’s rare to see more than three to a home.
:Wintersbreath: Deep underground behind several magical barriers and guarded at all times by at least least one warrior-pairing, this main alchemy hub holds no rune-written records of the clans private recipes. Everything is painstakingly memorized and passed down by primal right of first-hand apprenticeship. Treaties with the distant family of blood-kin ensure a steady supply of trade goods from other Flights, so the workshops are all well stocked-- if a little archaic in design. It’s here that the Pack’s colorful tonics, poisons and toxins are concocted.
:Chillspike Command: A barren pit strew with old stains, all those seeking blood-kin right (pack adoption) must be chained to a large chunk of ice in the center and left to weather three trials. The first two are always tailored to suit the appealing individual, but the third is always the consumption of the poisons that gives the pack it’s trademark weapon: poisonous blood and hide. Only one in four survive. Those who do not, are honored as exalted in the service of the warden.
Note: This dangerous right of passage also gives each individual their own unique markings, so while unified in ferocity, the clan sports a chromatic range of color combinations. Some of them are more than a little florid.
Note: Pack pecking order is also decided here in the form of duels. Both parties must decide on the type of dueling but it’s almost always a show of strength. Wildclaw hierarchy has always been decided by prowess.
Note: Pack pecking order is also decided here in the form of duels. Both parties must decide on the type of dueling but it’s almost always a show of strength. Wildclaw hierarchy has always been decided by prowess.
:Blight Pack trademarks:
- Wildclaws ONLY:
No XYZ allowed. - CANNOT be plague for obvious reasons. All who chose to nest plague are considered exiles!
(what you do with your dragon once you adopt them is up to you!)
What is this?
A lazy lore hatchery.
Who are you?
Crazy Wildclaw lady.
What do you do?
Wildclaw only, no XYZ allowed. Preference for XXY and poxi/toxi.
Do you accept this thing or this other thing?
I don't do payment plans, sorry! I have a preference for treasure over gems so I only accept gems at current ratio. I likely won't accept other dragons in trade unless they 'fit' my odd niche tastes. I also likely won't accept art and don't care for gen ones. Generally not interested in items but it can't hurt to ask.
A lazy lore hatchery.
Who are you?
Crazy Wildclaw lady.
What do you do?
Wildclaw only, no XYZ allowed. Preference for XXY and poxi/toxi.
Do you accept this thing or this other thing?
I don't do payment plans, sorry! I have a preference for treasure over gems so I only accept gems at current ratio. I likely won't accept other dragons in trade unless they 'fit' my odd niche tastes. I also likely won't accept art and don't care for gen ones. Generally not interested in items but it can't hurt to ask.
What is this?
A lazy lore hatchery.
Who are you?
Crazy Wildclaw lady.
What do you do?
Wildclaw only, no XYZ allowed. Preference for XXY and poxi/toxi.
Do you accept this thing or this other thing?
I don't do payment plans, sorry! I have a preference for treasure over gems so I only accept gems at current ratio. I likely won't accept other dragons in trade unless they 'fit' my odd niche tastes. I also likely won't accept art and don't care for gen ones. Generally not interested in items but it can't hurt to ask.
A lazy lore hatchery.
Who are you?
Crazy Wildclaw lady.
What do you do?
Wildclaw only, no XYZ allowed. Preference for XXY and poxi/toxi.
Do you accept this thing or this other thing?
I don't do payment plans, sorry! I have a preference for treasure over gems so I only accept gems at current ratio. I likely won't accept other dragons in trade unless they 'fit' my odd niche tastes. I also likely won't accept art and don't care for gen ones. Generally not interested in items but it can't hurt to ask.