Creative Corner

[img]http://imgur.com/58Xu9kI.png[/img] [img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][color=transparent]x[/color][b][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3295803]Jotunnmodr[/url] – The Trainer [img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][color=transparent]x[/color][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3589783]Laufsblad[/url] – The Deceptive [img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][color=transparent]x[/color][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3589784]Lysta[/url] – The Beautiful [img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][color=transparent]x[/color][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3589785]Lyndisbragd[/url] – The Hot-Headed[/b] Jotunnmodr was never meant to remain in the Lair as long as he did. But despite his father’s whisperings, despite his devotion to the Arcanist, he wanted to see the Greenskeeper Gathering. He wanted to know the bustle of a Festival before he gave his life to his deity. Einmyrir accepted the proposition, fearful that the Arcanist might lose a warrior if he did not … So it was that he also met his younger siblings from Einmyrir and Ena’s next clutch: Laufsblad, named for the festival; Lysta, for the crystalline jewels upon her wings; and Lyndisbragd, who hissed and snapped from the moment his egg cracked apart. As the siblings grew, Einmyrir convinced Jotunnmodr to train his brothers and sister. They learned fast and well, and although it was Lyndisbragd who excelled at combat, his Fae siblings refused to back down in any fight. Even Lysta did not allow the weight of her gembound limbs to hold her back, and trained harder than either of her siblings to be the best. They brought home a great many spoils for the Clan, and Einmyrir was proud to call them his children. Laufsblad excelled at concealment, both magical and practical. Lysta cultivated her gems into a kind of armour. And Lyndisbragd used his anger as a fuel that kept him going long past the point of exhaustion. When pitted against one another, they gave no quarter, and often had to be pulled apart by Jotunnmodr during training. In combat, they became a deadly team. “They are ready,” Jotunnmodr said to his father one day as they watched the three clutch-mates wrestling for dominance in one of Jotunnmodr’s makeshift training rings, hidden away in a clearing deep in the Star Wood, far from the Lair where they would not be found by prying eyes. The Clan’s leaders did not entirely approve; but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. “Then take them,” Einmyrir said. “Tonight. I will inform the Clan. Your mother.” “Father?” Jotunnmodr murmured, a frown pulling his brows together as he peered down at him. He had waited for this day to come his whole life, but always expected that Einmyrir would lead them to the Observatory. That he would be there. He shook his head. “I do not know the way.” Einmyrir went over to the nearest tree and climbed up, using even his wings to cling to the bark. He stopped when he reached his son’s eye-level and twisted his neck to look straight into his eyes. Einmyrir’s frills were still and calm. “You know the way. The Arcanist is with you, in your heart. He will guide you.” He glanced across at the three dragons brawling in the clearing. “He will guide all of you.” “What of [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3295802]Jarnleikr[/url]?” Jotunnmodr asked, thinking of his clutch-mate – who often shared meals with [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1172183]Daell[/url], their older brother, the traitor who had broken their father’s heart. The two were alike in looks, and often whispered together. Jotunnmodr had seen the way their father bristled whenever he caught Jarnleikr with Daell. “I will deal with him,” Einmyrir said darkly. “And he will join you soon.” Jotunnmodr nodded again. “If you think this is best.” “I will tell your mother that you said farewell,” Einmyrir promised as he descended the tree-trunk awkwardly. He paused between two gnarled roots, and glanced towards his latest clutch of hatchlings, his eyes growing fond. “Take care of them, until you are there.” “The Arcanist will watch over us.” Einmyrir nodded as he turned away, towards the Lair of the Lundlaevungar. “Yes; He will.” [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [size=2]These guys were exalted as part of the Greenskeeper Gathering Dominance Push 2014, which Arcane won! [b]Name Meanings:[/b] Jotunnmodr: Giant’s Rage Laufsblad: Leaf-Green Lysta: Wish/Desire Lyndisbragd: Temper Jarnleikr escaped~ ;D[/size][br]

[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3932019] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/39321/3932019_350.png[/img][/url] [img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][color=transparent]x[/color][b]Neiss – The Shameful[/b] Neiss was unlike his clutch-mates, both in looks and in temperament. His scales gleamed in brighter shades of red and blue; where his siblings teased and pinched and nipped, he learned to play nicely; and he was less inclined to listen to his father. “He is [i]my[/i] son,” Ena whispered often to [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1172183]Daell[/url], emphasising the possessive. She leaned closer to her favourite, the only one of her hatchlings she had been allowed to truly keep, almost forgetting herself and touching him without warning. Her sigh ruffled his frills. “Like you.” “Careful, Mother,” Daell replied every time she mentioned it, and the threat in his voice – or perhaps the sight of his scars – quietened her for a while. It could not completely stop Ena from insisting that the youngest from this clutch would not go to the Arcanist. While Einmyrir tried to catch Neiss’s attention with the sparkle of an eternity in the Observatory, she told him of all the world could offer. A life beyond what his father had planned for him. [br] [center][img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][/center] The hatchlings were too old for bedtime stories – too old to really be referred to as ‘hatchlings’ – but that didn’t stop Daell from telling them. Ena liked him to speak to them of placed beyond the Arcane territory into which her offspring had been born, and although Einmyrir did not approve, he had yet to stop the practice. One evening, he weaved a them a tale of their mother’s homeland, awakening images of the crystalline icefields and glimmering snow in their imaginations. By the time he was done, and the bright images in his mind collapsed back into the now-familiar darkness, Nitha and Nytr were asleep. He started to leave the hatchlings’ nest, but a small voice stopped him in his tracks. “Daell? Do you think I could ever go there?” Neiss asked. “Yes,” Daell said, turning back. He reached out, and Neiss lifted his head to meet Daell’s fond touch half-way. He stroked over the guardian’s forehead and up over his horns, which were slowly starting to sharpen. “Yes, I think you will.” “I could come back and tell you all my adventures!” [i]No, little one[/i], Daell though. He wondered if it was his imagination, or if he really could feel his father’s eyes boring into his back. [i]If you leave this place, you should never come back.[/i] “Go to sleep,” he said instead, because it was easier than the truth. [i]Dream of all the places you want to see.[/i] He had almost made it back to his own nest when his father’s voice hissed into Daell’s ears. “No more stories.” [br] [center][img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][/center] “He knows,” Daell murmured that night into the underside of [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2236933]Skald[/url]’s jaw, burying his digits in the Imperial’s luxuriant fur. “He knows.” [br] [center][img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][/center] They came up with a plan. Daell resisted for as long as he could before allowing his mother to breathe a word to anyone else in the Clan, but neither of them could slip away without Einmyrir knowing, and neither of them had the magic to do what needed to be done. [br] [center][img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][/center] They placed a spell on Neiss to make him sleep unnaturally deeply, and Ena crooned goodbyes into her son’s ears until Skald had to carry him away or risk discovery. Skald cradled the guardian against his chest, Daell clinging between his wings as the Imperial flew to the southernmost edge of the Lundlaevungar’s territory. There they met [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=534875]Odin[/url], in a patch of starlight on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Crystalspine Reaches. “He will forget everything,” Odin said once Skald had laid Neiss down. He looked into Daell’s face. “He will not remember any of his life here, not even you.” Daell’s body trembled as he pressed low against Skald’s back for the comfort of touch. Yet when he spoke, his voice was clear and unwavering, for all that it was quiet. “Do it,” he breathed. Odin blinked his single remaining eye, then turned his gaze on Neiss. His skin glowed yellow-green and the air swirled into little vortexes that spiralled towards Neiss, surrounding his head. In his sleep he made a sound, his broad brow creasing and then smoothing out a moment later, his cares erased from his mind. “It is done,” Odin said. He looked at Skald. “I will see our Wordsmith home.” Daell climbed down from Skald’s back and took hold of Odin’s arm so that the two could walk together. “You will make sure –” “He will be safe,” Skald promised as he scooped Neiss up into his arms. “Worry not.” Daell nodded, and Skald took off, carrying Neiss up into the air, flying southwards. He was to find a suitable clan in the Southern Icefield and leave Neiss there – to stay with them, or to travel on, as he had once dreamed, far beyond the reaches of his father. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [size=2]Wow, this one’s a long one! And technically he’s not a dragon I exalted either, but he’s a hatchlings of Einmyrir’s so he gets something … Headcanon things that didn’t fit in the story: [LIST=1] [*][size=2]Odin used a variant on the Disorient Battle Stone to ‘disorient’ Neiss to the point where he has no memory of his life before. (Coincidentally I decided to use Odin – a Wind dragon – before finding out there was a Disorient stone usable by Wind dragons, ha!) [*][size=2]Ena uses a (probably less violent) version of the Clobber Battle Stone to ‘stun’ him.[/size] [*][size=2]Not a headcanon but: Daell and Skald (two of my favourites) totally stole the limelight there, oops. :P[/size][/LIST][size=2] This guy went to an Ice clan to be someone’s OC dragon! He was renamed Adrian, hence the memory-spell. (I think they eventually used him to breed an identical boy with Ice eyes, so he’s now with the Icewarden. :) But what Ena doesn’t know won’t hurt her …)[/size] [br]

[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3932018] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/39321/3932018_350.png[/img][/url] [img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][color=transparent]x[/color][b]Nitha – The Slanderous[/b] The morning after Neiss disappeared, there was a flurry of activity as the Clan tried to find him. While the other dragons dispersed between the trees, Einmyrir climbed to his usual perch and stared out across the Starwood Strand. After a few seconds of gazing blankly at the landscape, he declared, “He has gone beyond our ability to find him.” Nitha fluttered up and perched beside her father. “He betrayed you.” “No,” Einmyrir said, but his voice lacked its familiar conviction. He turned his head, his eyes gazing through her skin to the Breath curled tight in her chest. “He would not.” “You think he went to the Arcanist?” she asked, her voice almost gentle for a moment before it became a poisonous hiss. “No. He listened to [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1172183]Daell[/url]’s lies, that life in the world is sweeter than life with Him. He is gone. I know not where, but not to serve our God.” She was treading dangerous ground, but that’s where she liked it best. Her father’s eyes bored into her, rage making his claws extend and pulling his lips back from his teeth, and a part of her wanted him to turn on her as he once had turned on Daell, because she was not her older brother; she would not curl up and cry under any onslaught, not even from her own father. “You lie,” Einmyrir whispered, and he sounded suddenly old and desperate. “He did it to hurt you; to spite you,” she replied. Einmyrir flinched as if the words physically hurt. She bared her teeth. “Just as Daell did.” “And what of you?” Einmyrir breathed, leaning closer to her. He curled his digits around her forearm, thin little claws digging between her scales but not pressing hard enough to break her skin. “Has the traitor turned you against me?” “I respect Him,” Nitha said, jerking her head in the direction of the Observatory, knowing that her father would know what she meant. She pulled her arm away and slunk back into the Lair to where her clutch-mate Nytr was lurking. Einmyrir remained on his usual perch until the Lundlaevungar gave up their search and drifted back to their home, unsuccessful in their search and dejected. When [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2236933]Skald[/url] appeared between the trees, with Daell in his usual spot between the Imperial’s should blades, Einmyrir bristled at the sight of his eldest unexalted son, baring his teeth and letting his claws slide out – until [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=56017]Loki[/url] stepped between them and said, “[i]Enough[/i].” Einmyrir hissed at his father and turned away. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3932017] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/39321/3932017_350.png[/img][/url] [img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][color=transparent]x[/color][b]Nytr – The Useful[/b] The night Neiss disappeared, Nytr dreamed. He dreamed of a celestial body so large that it filled his field of vision; of the scent of parchment and ink, the crystalline tinkling of Arcane Sprite wings; the black yawn of eternity above him, so empty, so full of the promise of knowledge. After the rest of the clan had disappeared to search for his missing brother, Nytr watched Nitha go to their father’s usual spot at the mouth of the Lair. When Einmyrir snatched at her arm, Nytr almost went to loom over her; he had known all his life that his twin was also his Charge, the one he was born to follow and protect. Father or not, he could not allow Einmyrir to do to his sister what he had done to Daell. Yet Einmyrir put away his claws and when they were done, Nitha returned to his side. She did not speak of what she had discussed with their father. The clutch-mates sat together at the back of the Lair, watching the search party return. Then Einmyrir almost attacked Daell, and Nitha’s frills twitched. She looked up into Nytr’s eyes. “I will see you again,” she said. It was not a question; she might not accept his protection, but she could not deny their connection, or that he would follow her anywhere. “You will,” he promised, and it sounded like a threat. Nitha’s expression twisted, tearing itself between a grin and a snarl, and with that the peace between them shattered. She launched herself at his face. Her sharp little teeth bit into his sensitive facial fins. He responded in kind, slapping her away with one large paw. The closest they had ever come to affection was violence. She flared her head-frills, baring her teeth in a vicious, determined grin, then took to the air and shot out of the Lair without another word. Nytr got up, ignoring the curious looks from the rest of the Clan, and went to stand beside his father’s perch. Einmyrir watched Nitha until she was out of sight in the shadows of the Star Wood – then a little longer, as if he could see right through the trees. Then Einmyrir fixed him with his glazed pink eyes, and seemed to stare right through Nytr’s skin. “She will do well. Her Breath is strong. She will serve Him well …” “Then so will I,” Nytr said. There was no fear or uncertainty in his voice. He had always know what his father wanted of him, of all of them; he had always known he would follow Nitha to the Observatory. “Yes,” Einmyrir said, and his frills finally relaxed out of the angry flare that had held them stiffly out from his head since the news of Neiss’s disappearance. Nytr nodded to his father. He didn’t look at the rest of the Clan, not even his mother as she stepped forward to say goodbye. He simply followed his sister out of the Lair and into the trees. As Nitha had said, he would see her again. He did not look back. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG]

[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=4115104] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/41152/4115104_350.png[/img][/url] [b]Solbjorg – The Shadow[/b] At the coming of the sun Solbjorg was hatched; His scales and wings like shadows. He exalted his soul At the sun’s setting – A shadow across the Arcanist’s stars. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=4115105] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/41152/4115105_350.png[/img][/url] [b]Logr – The Longing[/b] Logr was drawn To deep pools He longed for the power of prophesy. He travelled across the sea From the sheltered woods To transform under the eyes of the Arcanist. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=4115103] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/41152/4115103_350.png[/img][/url] [b]Olfossa – The Turbulent[/b] Olfossa the rambunctious Romping through the Lair She fought fiercely and frequently. A tireless warrior, Incessant as a waterfall, She strikes down the Arcanist’s enemies. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [size=2]Flexing my Old Norse alliterative poetry muscles with these. It’s probably breaking the rules to use S-alliteration for [i]everything[/i], as I do in Solbjorg’s poem, but … *shrug* Old Norse poems in Ljóðaháttr start to feel like haiku after a while. :| [b]Name Meanings:[/b] Solbjorg: Sunset Logr: Sea, water Olfossa: lit. Ale-Force (foaming waterfall); turbulent river[/size] [br]

Grar and Harr – The Grey and The Hoary

They were known as Harr and Grar – the Grey and the Hoary – because from the moment of their hatching they were old beyond their years. A misery seldom found in the Spiral breed plagued them throughout their short lives. They found comfort only in one another’s company.

Their brother – Hoss, a mirror, similarly grey in colour but with contrasting disposition – left the Clan and found a mate in the Icewarden’s lands. Instead of rejoicing, the brothers became more insular than ever before, treating his departure as a betrayal. They were often found twining together as if they longed to become one creature.

Einmyrir spoke with them often, drawn to the bright coils of Breath that he saw within them when they knotted themselves together. He listened to them, read the meaning of their body language and whispered in kind, making promises on behalf of the Arcanist. (“He will make you feel whole. He will take away your pain. He will make you one body, if that is what you desire.”)

No one saw the Grey and the Hoary leave, but no one mourned their passing.

[IMG]http://imgur.com/kSvU0MA.png[/IMG] [b][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=4939216]Skoð[/url] and [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=4939215]Vapn[/url] – The Weapons[/b] The Weapons partly wielded Woe for some who sowed their Hopes within their hardened Hearts; their mother, moved to Grief by her offsprings’ goals, Gave her brutal blessing With a curse to cruelly Cast them to Arcane arms. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3019246] [IMG]http://imgur.com/vbQXI02.png[/IMG][/url] [b]Ofolr – The Mistaken[/b] These are the word spoken by Einmyrir to Ofolr: “Child of cunning darkness, Could your present portents Reveal a rougher lot? Read the awful auspice: You have no value here. Hurl your Soul to serve Him, The glorified God who Gifts us with His wisdom.” Afterwards, Ofolr did not stay. He left for the Observatory in the same hour, never to be seen again. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=4192455] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/41925/4192455_350.png[/img][/url] [b]Slatequartz –The Wasted[/b] She flew from Fire alone; Fuming the air around, Clothed in ash and cinder, Came she to find friendship: Ignominy ignored In the arms of Arcane. They loved her gleaming gems, Glowing with bright brilliance. Einmyrir, most loyal, Made her feel so fearless; He hid his wishes well, Wisely talked of trifles – Until the time was right. Then she let him lead her, Trusting he spoke truth, Through the gate of his God. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [size=2]These were originally posted in honour of World Poetry Day (21 March 2015). The Skoð & Vapn and Ofolr pieces are Old Norse alliterative poems in Dróttkvætt, or ‘lordly verse’. The Slatequartz poem is written in (really bad) Scholarly Verse. It’s hard to force English to obey rules that were written for another language! Another language which did, in fact, make up different ways of saying things ([url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kenning]kennings[/url]) specifically to make sure they would have the right words and letters for every alliterative instance … Ofolr’s apparel makes me think that if he was a human he would definitely be a massive, tattooed, leather-wearing biker. ^-^ [/size] [br]

[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=5249362] [IMG]http://imgur.com/MKTETo2.png[/IMG][/url] [b]Daufi – The Unsettling[/b] No one knows quite what to make of Daufi. He does not speak. He pays little attention to those around him. He rarely shows his eyes, preferring to hide them beneath the brim of his hat. But he smiles all of the time. No one is sure how he came by the Infectionist’s Armband that he wears like a brand. Everyone is certain that they don’t want to find out. Daufi journeyed to the Observatory alongside three of Einmyrir’s offspring, Penningr, Prutt and Pina. They were the only three dragons who were not unsettled by his mere presence. It is assumed that Daufi joined the Arcanist, as they did; though the only thing the Clan is certain of is that he did not come back. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=5248659] [IMG]http://imgur.com/ckEqRrN.png[/IMG][/url] [img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][color=transparent]x[/color][b]Pina – The Mortifier[/b] Pina wrapped herself in light and used it as a [i]weapon[/i]. The most magically intuitive (and most dangerous) of the clutch, she hid her face behind the skull of her first kill. Even her brothers Prutt and Penningr were always wary of her sharp little claws and her vicious nature. Able to take any opponent apart either with the bite of her words or the cut of her teeth, no one was sad to see her go to serve the Arcanist. Even her mother, Ena, could not speak kindly of her; her cruelty was too much for the kindly guardian to bear. Pina was the first hatchling Ena was not sorry to see sent to the Observatory. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=5248658] [IMG]http://imgur.com/DYVNJf6.png[/IMG][/url] [img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][color=transparent]x[/color][b]Prutt – The Gallant[/b] From the cracking of his egg, Prutt’s father Einmyrir whispered to him of the great thinhs he could achieve in the arms of their God. As he grew, Prutt grew antlers instead of the usual Guardian horns. This convinced him that the Arcanist had altered his body in this way to mark him - that he was special. He came to believe that when he joined the Arcanist, he would be hailed as the Prince of the Observatory. Einmyrir did little to dissuade him of this delusion. It is possible that he agreed with his son. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=5248657] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/52487/5248657_350.png[/img][/url] [img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][color=transparent]x[/color][b]Penningr – The Rich[/b] Penningr’s gembond was actually chunks of very pale gold. It was quite painful, and tended to flake off whenever he scratched at it. The gold was easily chipped, and Penningr often left behind him a glittering trail. Many dragons found him enchanting. [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=4909449]Corvus[/url], the keeper of the Clan’s coin, was somewhat obsessed with Penningr’s condition – and mourned bitterly when he went to the Observatory. [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1172183]Daell[/url] begged Penningr not to go. However, Daell did not know the full extent of Penningr’s sorrows. He knew of the pain – and offered to help, to research ointments and even gembond cures with [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2236933]Skald[/url] – but he was never aware of why his gembond hurt him so badly. Penningr’s earliest memory – from when he was still a hatchling – was of being cornered by his father and held down. While Einmyrir whispered spells to keep him silent, his screams of pain locked in his throat, he had dug his claws into the soft chunks of gold in his son’s flesh and ripped them out. It was not an isolated incident: Einmyrir needed gold to pay for new hatchlings to train in the ways of the Arcanist, and send off to the Observatory. Penningr was a convenient source that meant he did not have to touch the Lundlaevungar’s funds and make the rest of the Clan aware of his activities, of his attempts to bring his God to Dominance. Penningr told no one. He knew what had happened to the last of Einmyrir’s children who had disobeyed him. Instead, he left with his siblings when they went to join the Arcanist. Einmyrir could say nothing, for fear of revealing the suffering he inflicted upon his son. Penningr entered the Observatory knowing that his father could no longer touch him; that his gembond would heal; that he would be happy, for the first time in his life … [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [size=2]I ‘got’ Daufi the moment I put his apparel on. Something about the hat … :) And I enjoyed writing his description lots. Also, yes, Einmyrir is not a [i]nice[/i] dragon. In case that wasn't clear. [b]Name Meanings:[/b] Daufi: Deaf-mute, stupid Pina: Mortify Prutt: Gallantly Penningr: Coin (penny) [/size] [br]

@Lundlaeva
This is so well written!
Being a non native English speaker (and on that's rather bad at writing) this is gorgeous!
Could I be added to your pinglist? I really don't want to miss out on any stories you've got planned :)

@ColourOkapi Aw, thank you so much, that's really kind of you - I'm glad you think so! I will certainly add you to the pinglist. :)

Hakon, Leif and Snorri – The Heroes

Snorri, the poet of the group, wrote this about himself and his brothers and left it outside the Lair on the day they left for the Observatory:

Three great heroes thusly,
Through their hardships hastened,
Went to serve in spirit:
Some would feel them foolish,
Wasting their worth this way,
Wondering how they’ll help Him.
They know knowledge is power:
Know how best to burgeon.

Arcanist’s arts are many.
Arching learnéd libraries,
Scopes and star-charts abound –
Still there’s more to master;
In halls hallowed by time,
Hope of learning lingers.
Their Fate to master more
Might be all they ask for.





These three were (I believe) all named after famous people: King Hákon Aðalsteinsfóstri (or Haakon the Good) of Norway, Leifr Eiríksson the Icelandic explorer, and Snorri Sturluson the Icelandic poet and historian.

Again, this is Dróttkvætt or ‘lordly verse’ – the alliteration and syllable-counting is all there, where it’s supposed to be, but the rhymes are unfortunately off. Which is a shame, since I’m attributing this to a dragon named after arguably the greatest Old Norse poet whose work we actually have, and it’s written in a metre that Actual Snorri would’ve used!