Creative Corner

246

August 02, 2015 18:28:32

This is my nuzlocke, which takes place in the Tangled Wood! It will be a story of death... romance... madness... and dragons beating the crap out of each other. Since it is a nuzlocke, this story will definitely touch on some gross, nasty stuff (including violence, death, and abuse) so perhaps give it a skip if you are sensitive about such things.

Rules:
This is a "Pinkerton's Plundered Nuzlocke", which is a thing I made up. Therefore the rules are exactly the same as the ones detailed on this thread. I encourage you to check it out, but reading the rules isn't essential to understanding the story.

Bookkeeping note:
I won't update the story itself every day. I will be posting bookkeeping updates when Pinkerton gives me something other than a material. These posts will basically be along the lines of "I got some bugs so I battled the the coli for 20 rounds and nothing happened!". Sometimes I will make story posts about items other than materials, however this is dependent on my motivation to write.

This means that the table of contents won't link to posts without any story. I also won't ping people for story-less updates. You're welcome to check the thread to find out what's going on though.

Table of Contents:
Day One - This is what the wildclaw remembers
Day Two - The trio of longnecks
Day Five - Now then, baby
Day Seven - To properly escape
Day Nine - Botch didn't know what to do
Day Eleven - His name was Murex
Day Thirteen - The next day
Day Fourteen - Let's hunt
Day Fifteen - From then on
Day Sixteen - Keto had started to decorate their lair
Day Eighteen - Mycena's studies
Day Nineteen - The smell in the lair was unbearable
Day Twenty - The patterns
Day Twenty Three - Meanwhile
Day Twenty Five - Murex wanted to be somewhere else
Day Twenty Nine - Keto laid a pair of eggs
Day Thirty One - Botch had to ask Murex for help
Day Thirty Two - Botch continued to hunt
Day Thirty Three - Miraculously
Day Thirty Four - The hatchling
Day Thirty Five - Rue fell
Day Thirty Six - Botch crept back to camp
Day Thirty Seven - It was like she was underwater
Day Thirty Nine - Rue got lost
Day Forty One - Initially
Day Forty Five - Murex ran
Day Forty Eight - Murex awoke
Day Fifty-Two - Rue crashed
Day Fifty Three - Murex lay

Pinglist:
(let me know if you'd like to be added)
@blaireau @sykotikkytten @CanisLupus03 @SparkyLurkdragon @Averis @Orru @SnoCone @linguistic @Istoki @tigressRising @Bibliomancer @Pasafatu @Babaaeyes @HuntingAlpha @Dessoestma @Mito @Nakhoda @Cadomarie @deerper @Stormbreeze @SpaceSnake @Kes @Llealynarisia @CaptainCrackers @Pyr @LadyTroubadour @FreefallFlying @Elzerei @waddigator @rororat @gemgem @TwoJay @ChristianCutie @CaptainRapunzel @Fitali @agentfern @Camena @Fabtastic @Tala2121 @DragonPrincess27 @Merael @Digimon11 @Thaliax @SilentWiccan @Kaegro @Myself @casanovasAnchor @SleepyAnnie @Mediscoot @Pargon @MiraLief @Tsukistar @Leopardmask @Nekasrof @Tubermelon

My nuzlocke! ^

Last edited on Feb 15, 2017 22:07:38 by Tar

Reserved?

Tar

246

August 02, 2015 18:28:40

Reserved?

My nuzlocke! ^

[center][img]http://oi61.tinypic.com/4gqgya.jpg[/img][/center] This is what the wildclaw remembers: It is cold, and wet and it stings when their eyes open. They can't breathe, and they are being tugged in all directions. There's a roar that won't stop, it is deafening. They kick and scream and they drown. They wake up with sand on their feathers and a name on their tongue and a thick, stifling fog on their breath. They shake and shiver. The sand feels good on their claws, so they close their paw into a fist in it. They look up after a time and there are dark clouds. They are thin, and there is a pain in their head like a drum. They don't remember anything before the bellowing, churning sea. They try to walk but they crawl instead, so they crawl toward the forest. There is wood in the way and they don't get far. They are so tired. They sleep under a land-tossed sea-log. They wake soon and walk. There's a stomach-pain. They enter the forest of forever-darkness where the air is full of bird-noise. They see a black bird with bright eyes. They sneak, but the pine floor crunches and so it leaves. They follow. The trees are a maze. [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/H36bFbv.png[/img][/center] Suddenly it is too quiet. The only noise is needles under their feet. They pause. They look, nose flared. The evergreens are a wall. Their branches are the sky - it's night, it's always night. It does not matter to them. It does not matter to the trees. They see the bird again, and it is almost invisible. It croaks twice but stays. They creep closer. And then a terrible thing happens. It becomes bright, bright, BRIGHT. They hiss, there is fear in the air and on the scales. There are many lights and they are yellow and bright. Twitching, squeaking, watching. There are many. There are too many to fight. [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/GjeUl4R.png[/img] [/center] They scream, they are consumed by the sun. It is burning, they are bleeding. They are on the tail, the shoulder, the ankle, the face. Biting, gnawing, tearing. There is fear, fear, fear and the ground meets them. The dirt kisses their feathers. But then, then! But then! There is a realization. There is joy. Their eyes are so bright, their claws are so sharp, sharper than anything. They are a lightning bolt, they are better than everything. They are hotter, better, brighter, than the suns! They do an impossible thing to prove this. The mice bite and gnaw but do not win. They rise from the ground like the strongest tree. They use teeth and claw and tail and to destroy them them all! All of them! Destroyed to nothing! Like the nothings they are. There is blood on the feathers and the tongue and the breath. They do this and say with their eyes bright and every mouse screaming under claw, "I am a god. I am a god, I am a god! Keto the god!" No bird dares to speak. Everything is nothing to a god! Day one: [item=berserker] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1528539#12923842]Day Two[/url]

Tar

246

August 02, 2015 18:40:54

This is what the wildclaw remembers:

It is cold, and wet and it stings when their eyes open. They can't breathe, and they are being tugged in all directions. There's a roar that won't stop, it is deafening. They kick and scream and they drown. They wake up with sand on their feathers and a name on their tongue and a thick, stifling fog on their breath. They shake and shiver. The sand feels good on their claws, so they close their paw into a fist in it. They look up after a time and there are dark clouds. They are thin, and there is a pain in their head like a drum. They don't remember anything before the bellowing, churning sea.

They try to walk but they crawl instead, so they crawl toward the forest. There is wood in the way and they don't get far. They are so tired. They sleep under a land-tossed sea-log.

They wake soon and walk. There's a stomach-pain. They enter the forest of forever-darkness where the air is full of bird-noise. They see a black bird with bright eyes. They sneak, but the pine floor crunches and so it leaves. They follow. The trees are a maze.

Suddenly it is too quiet. The only noise is needles under their feet. They pause. They look, nose flared. The evergreens are a wall. Their branches are the sky - it's night, it's always night. It does not matter to them. It does not matter to the trees. They see the bird again, and it is almost invisible. It croaks twice but stays. They creep closer.

And then a terrible thing happens. It becomes bright, bright, BRIGHT. They hiss, there is fear in the air and on the scales. There are many lights and they are yellow and bright. Twitching, squeaking, watching. There are many. There are too many to fight.

They scream, they are consumed by the sun. It is burning, they are bleeding. They are on the tail, the shoulder, the ankle, the face. Biting, gnawing, tearing. There is fear, fear, fear and the ground meets them. The dirt kisses their feathers.

But then, then! But then! There is a realization. There is joy. Their eyes are so bright, their claws are so sharp, sharper than anything. They are a lightning bolt, they are better than everything. They are hotter, better, brighter, than the suns!

They do an impossible thing to prove this. The mice bite and gnaw but do not win. They rise from the ground like the strongest tree. They use teeth and claw and tail and to destroy them them all! All of them! Destroyed to nothing! Like the nothings they are. There is blood on the feathers and the tongue and the breath.

They do this and say with their eyes bright and every mouse screaming under claw, "I am a god. I am a god, I am a god! Keto the god!"

No bird dares to speak. Everything is nothing to a god!

Day one:

Day Two

My nuzlocke! ^

Last edited on Feb 12, 2017 13:55:03 by Tar

[center][img]http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/flightrising/images/e/ed/Longneck_Wanderer.png/revision/latest?cb=20150603224111.png[/img][/center] The trio of longnecks made their way into the woods with sensible trepidation. The Tangled Wood, despite being a territory adjacent to Dragonhome, was yet to be entirely mapped and understood by any of the longneck clans. It was considered bad luck to enter - no exploring party had ever returned - but space to expand their clan's territory was becoming scarce due to the expansion of earth dragon lairs. The woods were alive with the whines and buzzes of all manner of insects, while the trees and ground were carpeted with ivies and glowing mushrooms. The longnecks, full of cautious optimism, looked around themselves with curiosity. Their mission was to locate a spot for a settlement, which meant finding plants that would be safe to eat. The explorers eventually came upon a patch of low-growing herbs with tiny blue flowers. One of the longneck wanderers served as a sort of field biologist, and it signaled the group to stop so that it could take observational notes in its sketchbook. It gently removed a handful of leaves on the plant and chewed on them deliberately and cautiously. Seemingly satisfied, it started to sketch a picture of the new plant. The other two longnecks, not unhappy for a chance of rest, shrugged off their packs and settled on some old stumps. The longneck who served as a cartographer began to sketch a map of the surrounding area. The sole longneck interloper, who served as a guard, looked over its companion's shoulder at the mapwork for a while, but quickly found it rather boring. The map was pretty good - it combined what the longnecks already knew about the wood with information that the group had gathered on their excursion, but it was also quite technical. The interloper stood, stretched, and began walking in a perimeter around its companions to keep an eye out for any potential threats. [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/yUlyZot.png[/img][/center] The forest was damp and cool, and a small breeze carried scents to the longneck's quivering nose. It paused to sniff the air about every dozen feet. The breeze was carrying a strange scent, something the longneck could not place. Suddenly, it clicked, and its eyes widened in panic - but too late. A twig snapped behind it. The longneck barely had time to raise its staff in defense before Keto had it pinned to the ground. The wildclaw's breath reeked of the rusty stench of blood. Drool snaked down their fangs in ropy loops. Keto used the staff to pin the interloper's neck to the ground. The longnecks mouth opened to scream, to call for help, but instead Keto clamped its jaws shut with a cutting grip of the paw, and only a low whine escaped. "Ssshh" Keto whispered, chuckling. They used their other paw to place a talon over the longnecks mouth, laughing more. The longneck's black eyes couldn't break away from Keto's electric blue's. One of their sickle shaped foot claws rested over the interloper's heart - just hard enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to wound. The claw was caked in old blood from previous kills. "Are you scared?" They asked, grinning toothily and leaning closer. "Scared of your god?" The sickle claw pressed a little harder. Suddenly, Keto felt something hard strike their side. They hissed, impaling the interloper with a furious stomp to kill it and turning a head to face the interruption. It was the biologist, frightened and already holding another rock in one paw. Bleating, they dropped the rock and turned to run. Keto closed the distance between them in a matter of strides, and tore out the longneck's throat with one swift jerk of the head. The corpse fell to the ground with a thud. Panting a little, Keto raised a bloodied snout to the air. They closed their eyes and breathed in deeply. The last longneck's scent was still on the breeze. Keto let loose a full bellied laugh and began to chase, leaving the kills to rot. Day two: [Item=scholar] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1528539#13006492]Day Five[/url] Already getting REAL TIRED of these battle items. Luckily, Keto was still in the level range of the training grounds. Unluckily, they're level four now, which means the difficulty is increased. RNG pls.

Tar

246

August 03, 2015 17:43:22

The trio of longnecks made their way into the woods with sensible trepidation. The Tangled Wood, despite being a territory adjacent to Dragonhome, was yet to be entirely mapped and understood by any of the longneck clans. It was considered bad luck to enter - no exploring party had ever returned - but space to expand their clan's territory was becoming scarce due to the expansion of earth dragon lairs.

The woods were alive with the whines and buzzes of all manner of insects, while the trees and ground were carpeted with ivies and glowing mushrooms. The longnecks, full of cautious optimism, looked around themselves with curiosity. Their mission was to locate a spot for a settlement, which meant finding plants that would be safe to eat.

The explorers eventually came upon a patch of low-growing herbs with tiny blue flowers. One of the longneck wanderers served as a sort of field biologist, and it signaled the group to stop so that it could take observational notes in its sketchbook. It gently removed a handful of leaves on the plant and chewed on them deliberately and cautiously. Seemingly satisfied, it started to sketch a picture of the new plant.

The other two longnecks, not unhappy for a chance of rest, shrugged off their packs and settled on some old stumps. The longneck who served as a cartographer began to sketch a map of the surrounding area. The sole longneck interloper, who served as a guard, looked over its companion's shoulder at the mapwork for a while, but quickly found it rather boring. The map was pretty good - it combined what the longnecks already knew about the wood with information that the group had gathered on their excursion, but it was also quite technical. The interloper stood, stretched, and began walking in a perimeter around its companions to keep an eye out for any potential threats.

The forest was damp and cool, and a small breeze carried scents to the longneck's quivering nose. It paused to sniff the air about every dozen feet. The breeze was carrying a strange scent, something the longneck could not place. Suddenly, it clicked, and its eyes widened in panic - but too late.

A twig snapped behind it. The longneck barely had time to raise its staff in defense before Keto had it pinned to the ground. The wildclaw's breath reeked of the rusty stench of blood. Drool snaked down their fangs in ropy loops. Keto used the staff to pin the interloper's neck to the ground. The longnecks mouth opened to scream, to call for help, but instead Keto clamped its jaws shut with a cutting grip of the paw, and only a low whine escaped.

"Ssshh" Keto whispered, chuckling. They used their other paw to place a talon over the longnecks mouth, laughing more. The longneck's black eyes couldn't break away from Keto's electric blue's.

One of their sickle shaped foot claws rested over the interloper's heart - just hard enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to wound. The claw was caked in old blood from previous kills.

"Are you scared?" They asked, grinning toothily and leaning closer. "Scared of your god?" The sickle claw pressed a little harder.

Suddenly, Keto felt something hard strike their side. They hissed, impaling the interloper with a furious stomp to kill it and turning a head to face the interruption.

It was the biologist, frightened and already holding another rock in one paw. Bleating, they dropped the rock and turned to run. Keto closed the distance between them in a matter of strides, and tore out the longneck's throat with one swift jerk of the head. The corpse fell to the ground with a thud.

Panting a little, Keto raised a bloodied snout to the air. They closed their eyes and breathed in deeply. The last longneck's scent was still on the breeze. Keto let loose a full bellied laugh and began to chase, leaving the kills to rot.

Day two:

Day Five

Already getting REAL TIRED of these battle items. Luckily, Keto was still in the level range of the training grounds. Unluckily, they're level four now, which means the difficulty is increased. RNG pls.

My nuzlocke! ^

Last edited on Feb 12, 2017 13:56:09 by Tar

@Tar Please ping me for updates, I adore Keto. *U*

blaireau

601

138

861

5952

August 04, 2015 11:33:20

@Tar Please ping me for updates, I adore Keto. *U*

Added to the pinglist! Day three: [item=chewy tentacle] No story update today. I did the minimum number of battles for seafood (30). This was WAY harder than I thought it would be. Keto is now level 5.

Tar

246

August 04, 2015 20:11:57

Added to the pinglist!

Day three:

No story update today. I did the minimum number of battles for seafood (30). This was WAY harder than I thought it would be. Keto is now level 5.

My nuzlocke! ^

@Tar

Pinglist please, i'm really liking this one so far. :)

sykotikkytten

84

542

1747

August 04, 2015 23:46:01

@Tar

Pinglist please, i'm really liking this one so far. :)

ðŸ’›ðŸ’šðŸ’™ðŸ’œâ¤ï¸♥â™¡kyttenâ™¡♥â¤ï¸ðŸ’œðŸ’™ðŸ’šðŸ’›

Added! Day four: [item=boneskitter] Again, 20 battles, the minimum. It's slow-going. Not much to report, Keto is still level 5. In other exciting news, my other hatchlings wll be growing up tomorrow. It's something I'm definitely looking forward to.

Tar

246

August 05, 2015 11:46:19

Added!

Day four:

Again, 20 battles, the minimum. It's slow-going. Not much to report, Keto is still level 5.

In other exciting news, my other hatchlings wll be growing up tomorrow. It's something I'm definitely looking forward to.

My nuzlocke! ^

@blaireau @sykotikkytten [center][img]http://oi59.tinypic.com/30xebs0.jpg[/img][/center] "Now then, baby, repeat to me what you are going to to." The guardian female said, firmly but sweetly. "I'm going to sit still at the auction house until someone tells me to go with them. Then, they'll help me go on my [i]Search[/i]!" The other dragon replied, putting a big emphasis on the last word. Even though he was old enough to be an adult, his whole body wiggled with excitement. "That's right honey." The mother dragon said, smiling. It didn't quite reach her eyes though. "What about my sisters? Are they going to the auction house too?" The female guardian exchanged a glance with a male mirror that was hovering nearby. The mirror didn't seem to want to look at his son at all. "No, they're going to stay closer to home." He said, flatly. There was a bit of an awkward pause. "Here, sweetie, you have to wear this." The female guardian said, hurriedly, slipping a necklace of twine over his head. There was a tag on it with his name, his parents' names, and a price - a meager 5,000 treasure. "Go and stand over there with the other grown-up dragons. And remember, look big!" "I will mom! Bye-bye!" He wiggled his ear fins to wave at her and scampered off jovially to the selling place. The weather was warm and humid - typical for the Viridian Labyrinth, and not at all uncomfortable for the jungle native. To him, it was a perfect day to begin his instinctive journey. He dove through a crowd of startled auction-goers to spring lithely on top of a crate. Remembering his mother's words, he fanned his gills and beard out as big as he could. There were some laughs from the babbling crowd, and certain dragons gestured at him. One dragon loudly flung an insult his way, but he didn't even notice. Quickly growing distracted by a multitude of sights and smells, the magenta guardian looked around the market with a sense of wonder. To his left, dragons were selling apparel. One interested buyer was trying on a fine yellow feathered cape. Another dragon stared, transfixed, at an ornate necklace, while the merchant fanned himself with basilisk feathers. An armor-smith tried to demonstrate the protectiveness of her wares by encouraging passersby to hit her as heard as they could. On his right was a whole host of familiars for sale. Dodos were crammed into cages next to gyres and robotic squawkers. A scrawny wetland unicorn stood dourly next to its enthusiastic new owner. A huge fish-tank contained a clown hippocampus which surfaced for air every few minutes. There was even a small herd of sulking centaurs and their foals being herded into a pen. It was on account of this sensory overload that the guardian didn't even know it was being spoken to, at first. "I SAID, HEY! BIG GUY!" "Huh?" He said, looking towards the source of the noise. His eyes lit up. "Oh, hi there!" [center][img]http://oi62.tinypic.com/33vg4fd.jpg[/img][/center] A sour-faced helmeted pearlcatcher peered up at him from the inside of a sturdy bamboo crate. His yellow eyes glowed under the shade that the cage provided. "Nice to meetcha!" The magenta dragon said, offering up his paw. The pearlcatcher stared at it for a second or two before shoving his arm through the cage bars to shake it. "I'm Steve. And you are..." The pearlcatcher started, squinting at the guardian's nametag, "...Botch? Really? Did your mama name you that?" The guardians fins fluttered proudly at the mention of his parents. "Nope, my dad did, I think!" Steve stared at Botch, a little flabbergasted. After a moment, he asked, "Er... are you even aware of the situation that you are in right now?" "Sure I am! I'm going to go along with the dragon that buys me, and they'll help me with my Search!" His claws flexed on the crate he was posed on. "You think that you're going to...." Steve began, and then stopped, sighing heavily. He began to realize that maybe a different tactic might be in order. Hunching his shoulders, he scanned the crowd carefully. "OK, Botch, listen. Do you see those dragons, over there, with the red eyes?" Steve pointed to show him. Botch turned to look, and sure enough there was a small huddle of red-eyed dragons in earnest debate with each other. "Yeah!" Steve watched Botch's reactions carefully. "They're plague dragons." "W-what?!" Botch's green eyes widened. "But this is the Viridian Labyrinth!" "Yes, but its also an auction house. They have every right to be here. And one of them could decide to buy you. Do you know what will happen if they buy you?" "They'll... help me?" He said, hopefully. His nose still quivered at the thought of the plague flight. "No, Botch, they won't. They'll train you to fight for the Plaguebringer." "The Plaguebringer!" Botch howled, flapping his wings in a panic. Nearby nature flight auction-goers threw him dirty looks. "Shush!" Steve hissed. "Even if the plague dragons [i]don't[/i] decide to take you, any one of these dragons would do the same for their own god. They will [i]not[/i] help you with your Search. You will fight and you will [i]die[/i], the same as I will." "I don't want to die." Botch whimpered, thankfully a little more quietly. Water began pooling around the corners of his eyes. [i]Aw, for pete's sake, is he going to cry?[/i] Steve thought, grimacing. [i]We're practically the same age, what's wrong with him?[/i] "We can escape." Steve said, quickly, waving his paws to try and calm Botch down. "I've got a plan. Look, look." He uncurled his tail, revealing a shiny red apple. "I grabbed this when they were bringing me here. It'll help us make a distraction. When I say 'go' I want you to smash open this crate. Got it?" "I-I don't think I can..." "Look at you!" Steve practically shouted. "You're what, 3 thousand pounds? You can break this, no problem." "O-OK, I'll try." Botch sniffed. "Good boy." Steve muttered. "Here goes nothing, I guess. Once I get out of here, follow me. We need to go somewhere the auction house guards won't follow." Steve eyed the familiar market, choosing his trajectory carefully. Whispering a quick prayer to the Lightweaver, he flung the apple as hard as he could. [center][img]http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/flightrising/images/f/fc/Moordwelling_Trunker.png/revision/latest?cb=20140608235414.png[/img][/center] Steve's target was a sleeping moordwelling trunker, which awoke with a squeal as the apple bounced off its leathery hide. It strained against the rope that held it, stumpy legs working overtime to break free and escape the imagined threat to its life. The rope finally snapped, and the trunker was loose. There were shouts of surprise as the stocky but powerful animal charged through the market. Tables and chairs were thrown skyward. A cage crashed to the ground, and from the cage burst a fearsome - and hungry - king parda. It [i]roared[/i]. "Go!" The bamboo crate was splintered into pieces, and they were off. Day five: [item=red delicious apple] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1528539/2#13052648]Day Seven[/url] OK, the coliseum is WAY better with three dragons.

Tar

246

August 06, 2015 22:08:30

@blaireau @sykotikkytten

"Now then, baby, repeat to me what you are going to to." The guardian female said, firmly but sweetly.

"I'm going to sit still at the auction house until someone tells me to go with them. Then, they'll help me go on my Search!" The other dragon replied, putting a big emphasis on the last word. Even though he was old enough to be an adult, his whole body wiggled with excitement.

"That's right honey." The mother dragon said, smiling. It didn't quite reach her eyes though.

"What about my sisters? Are they going to the auction house too?"

The female guardian exchanged a glance with a male mirror that was hovering nearby. The mirror didn't seem to want to look at his son at all.

"No, they're going to stay closer to home." He said, flatly. There was a bit of an awkward pause.

"Here, sweetie, you have to wear this." The female guardian said, hurriedly, slipping a necklace of twine over his head. There was a tag on it with his name, his parents' names, and a price - a meager 5,000 treasure. "Go and stand over there with the other grown-up dragons. And remember, look big!"

"I will mom! Bye-bye!" He wiggled his ear fins to wave at her and scampered off jovially to the selling place. The weather was warm and humid - typical for the Viridian Labyrinth, and not at all uncomfortable for the jungle native. To him, it was a perfect day to begin his instinctive journey.

He dove through a crowd of startled auction-goers to spring lithely on top of a crate. Remembering his mother's words, he fanned his gills and beard out as big as he could.

There were some laughs from the babbling crowd, and certain dragons gestured at him. One dragon loudly flung an insult his way, but he didn't even notice. Quickly growing distracted by a multitude of sights and smells, the magenta guardian looked around the market with a sense of wonder.

To his left, dragons were selling apparel. One interested buyer was trying on a fine yellow feathered cape. Another dragon stared, transfixed, at an ornate necklace, while the merchant fanned himself with basilisk feathers. An armor-smith tried to demonstrate the protectiveness of her wares by encouraging passersby to hit her as heard as they could.

On his right was a whole host of familiars for sale. Dodos were crammed into cages next to gyres and robotic squawkers. A scrawny wetland unicorn stood dourly next to its enthusiastic new owner. A huge fish-tank contained a clown hippocampus which surfaced for air every few minutes. There was even a small herd of sulking centaurs and their foals being herded into a pen.

It was on account of this sensory overload that the guardian didn't even know it was being spoken to, at first.

"I SAID, HEY! BIG GUY!"

"Huh?" He said, looking towards the source of the noise. His eyes lit up. "Oh, hi there!"

A sour-faced helmeted pearlcatcher peered up at him from the inside of a sturdy bamboo crate. His yellow eyes glowed under the shade that the cage provided.

"Nice to meetcha!" The magenta dragon said, offering up his paw. The pearlcatcher stared at it for a second or two before shoving his arm through the cage bars to shake it.

"I'm Steve. And you are..." The pearlcatcher started, squinting at the guardian's nametag, "...Botch? Really? Did your mama name you that?"

The guardians fins fluttered proudly at the mention of his parents. "Nope, my dad did, I think!"

Steve stared at Botch, a little flabbergasted. After a moment, he asked, "Er... are you even aware of the situation that you are in right now?"

"Sure I am! I'm going to go along with the dragon that buys me, and they'll help me with my Search!" His claws flexed on the crate he was posed on.

"You think that you're going to...." Steve began, and then stopped, sighing heavily. He began to realize that maybe a different tactic might be in order. Hunching his shoulders, he scanned the crowd carefully. "OK, Botch, listen. Do you see those dragons, over there, with the red eyes?" Steve pointed to show him.

Botch turned to look, and sure enough there was a small huddle of red-eyed dragons in earnest debate with each other. "Yeah!"

Steve watched Botch's reactions carefully. "They're plague dragons."

"W-what?!" Botch's green eyes widened. "But this is the Viridian Labyrinth!"

"Yes, but its also an auction house. They have every right to be here. And one of them could decide to buy you. Do you know what will happen if they buy you?"

"They'll... help me?" He said, hopefully. His nose still quivered at the thought of the plague flight.

"No, Botch, they won't. They'll train you to fight for the Plaguebringer."

"The Plaguebringer!" Botch howled, flapping his wings in a panic. Nearby nature flight auction-goers threw him dirty looks.

"Shush!" Steve hissed. "Even if the plague dragons don't decide to take you, any one of these dragons would do the same for their own god. They will not help you with your Search. You will fight and you will die, the same as I will."

"I don't want to die." Botch whimpered, thankfully a little more quietly. Water began pooling around the corners of his eyes.

Aw, for pete's sake, is he going to cry? Steve thought, grimacing. We're practically the same age, what's wrong with him?

"We can escape." Steve said, quickly, waving his paws to try and calm Botch down. "I've got a plan. Look, look." He uncurled his tail, revealing a shiny red apple. "I grabbed this when they were bringing me here. It'll help us make a distraction. When I say 'go' I want you to smash open this crate. Got it?"

"I-I don't think I can..."

"Look at you!" Steve practically shouted. "You're what, 3 thousand pounds? You can break this, no problem."

"O-OK, I'll try." Botch sniffed.

"Good boy." Steve muttered. "Here goes nothing, I guess. Once I get out of here, follow me. We need to go somewhere the auction house guards won't follow."

Steve eyed the familiar market, choosing his trajectory carefully. Whispering a quick prayer to the Lightweaver, he flung the apple as hard as he could.

Steve's target was a sleeping moordwelling trunker, which awoke with a squeal as the apple bounced off its leathery hide. It strained against the rope that held it, stumpy legs working overtime to break free and escape the imagined threat to its life. The rope finally snapped, and the trunker was loose.

There were shouts of surprise as the stocky but powerful animal charged through the market. Tables and chairs were thrown skyward. A cage crashed to the ground, and from the cage burst a fearsome - and hungry - king parda. It roared.

"Go!"

The bamboo crate was splintered into pieces, and they were off.

Day five:

Day Seven

OK, the coliseum is WAY better with three dragons.

My nuzlocke! ^

Last edited on Aug 24, 2015 20:30:04 by Tar

Day six: [item=blue dragon reef snail] Nice! I got this baby: [img]http://oi58.tinypic.com/15ygivr.jpg[/img] I may wait until it grows up until integrating it with the story. I'll mull over its personality and name for five days in the meantime. ;D I'm willing to take name suggestions though?

Tar