Creative Corner

*also finally finishes reading 17776*

... oh good. my aesthetic in written form. 10/10. :D I super loved this, and I am happy to have shoved it at the lot of you.

ixris' voice muffled through closed bedroom door: I am a terrible person.

Me, immediately accusatory: Oh no what did you do did you post your lore update.

ixris, peeking in the open crack of door: No! I'm writing the rules for my lair purge. :D

............. EVERYBODY TAKE COVER

*reviews rules*

No, that one's not on the list.

I would put 'grab some tissues' on the list, but I'm including the rules AFTER the lore update today. SO.

It'll be kind of.

Too late??

(I really don't think you'll cry. Hyperventilate maybe. But not cry.)

[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=9566027] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/95661/9566027.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Meadowtouch #9566027] Meadowtouch Performer Dancer, Poet, and Bard "I've been working on a new dance. Of course you'll stay for it, won't you?" Meadowtouch lives for art. When he is not actively engaged in practicing his next performance, he is passively engaged in crafting songs and poems in his head. At every clan gathering, he listens to the stories of the fighters and traders. Afterwards, he engages himself by creating a new performance based on their exploits. He seems a bit self-absorbed at first. His demeanor is stand-offish and haughty, and he plays up the superiority that many people ascribe to him. The truth of the matter is that Meadowtouch is extremely aware of just how big he is, and he wants no one to get hurt if he doesn't pull off a perfect corkscrew turn while he practices. His name seems a bit odd to people unfamiliar with Oakrest names. He was given "Meadow" for his coloring, and "Touch" for his art, even at an early age, when he practiced at portraying meadows throughout the seasons. He still wears seasonal attire, and is known to spend a pretty penny ensuring that he has access to every spell possible to display his favorite topic in his private practice - the seasons. Meadowtouch is never unadorned. He is aware that he was not blessed with outward beauty, and that inner beauty is difficult to acknowledge immediately. Still, he knows he ought make a good first impression. Sometimes that first impression is the only chance he'll have to show others what Oakrest is all about. He is on speaking terms with most of the clan, however he sees little of them. His time is spent living away from most of his smaller clanmates, where he can contemplate the beauties of nature and the absurdities of people in the privacy of his own thoughts. Sometimes he is in more public areas, where he runs a poetry stall. He is very good friends with Moonglow, and he is always delighted when she remembers to come visit him and offer a criticism of his newest endeavor. On the subject of mates, it is simple to say that Meadowtouch is simply not interested. He's completely ambivalent at the thought of sharing his den and his life with another. He's said many times in his youth that he is never lonely, so long as he has his art to keep him company. Poems and Songs "The Terns" I can see the terns Have nested Along the cliffs that ring With echoes of the surf below The water Races along the sand Gentle as your touch Salt Cakes The cliff face Just as it had before When the terns last nested In this same cliff And you were by my side "Stones" These stones have seen the sun And the glory of ages past Once They were leaves Or beasts Or those such as we Their hearts Have Grown Still We stand beside them And watch The sun sink Below the cliffs A brilliant cabachon Of ruby Lit From within "Wintersong" First frost traces white along Leaves clung tight to branch and vine A crunch of grass Of crystal mud The lake's veneer Shatters beneath unwitting step The nip of winter hangs before a flake has fallen[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=24651509] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/246516/24651509.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Eldritch #24651509] STR ?????????? DEX ?????????? CON ?????????? INT ?????????? WIS ?????????? CHA ?????????? Eldritch Assistant to the Council Clerical Hero "Your next meeting is at noon, sir." Eldritch grew up among the coatl sanctuary of the Island of Prufrock. His childhood was not unhappy, though he did wish his father had stayed in his life. His mother, the clan's resident psychologist, was attentive and kind, but Eldritch often got the feeling that she couldn't wait until her nest was grown so that she could return her full attentions to her work. Because Eldritch was not an especially pretty coatl growing up - his jaw is too wide, his teeth too sharp, his shoulders too broad, and his brow seems perpetually creased in scorn (and maturity has done little to help this) - it was thought that perhaps he might turn his attention to darker magics. After all, he certainly had the colors for it, and many Arcane dragons over the years have poked their muzzles into things that were more than they should have challenged. But Eldritch himself, though not untalented in magic, showed no great interest in developing his skills beyond what he considered 'useful.' After feeling out of place and constantly underfoot, Eldritch longed to feel useful himself. But while the Island of Prufrock was teaming with dragons who all seemed to have their place, nothing Eldritch tried particularly stuck with him. He was good at some things - organizing, sorting, reading, and itemizing - but he lacked the nature for a serious scholar, trader, or librarian. Instead, Eldritch loved helping others, and he found all those jobs either too solitary or too self-serving for his own taste. His great spark of inspiration for how to spend his life came when he once snuck into his mother's office and spent an afternoon reorganizing his mother's clients so that he could free up extra time to spend with her. After a steady grounding to think about why he shouldn't touch other peoples' things uninvited, Eldritch's mother took him aside. She explained to him that while her scheduling wasn't efficient, it was in fact carefully weighted with different thoughts in mind - one client might need extra time, or perhaps one was especially draining to deal with and she would need a little time afterwards to collect herself before seeing another. Eldritch never rescheduled his mother's workload, but he never forgot how good it felt to organize something efficiently, either. And so, when he became old enough to travel, Eldritch set out to find a place that was as welcoming as his home clan, but also would value his skills and let him assist someone - anyone - in their scheduling. It was this 'helping anyone' policy that ultimately led Eldritch to a bad place in his life. Shortly after leaving the Isle of Prufrock, he crossed paths with a rather good-looking ridgeback by the name of Valrin. Valrin had a pleasant smile and a courteous manner and a charming way with words, and Eldritch found himself completely smitten. And when Valrin asked for his help, well, how could he say no? After all, Valrin had invited him to travel with them, and Eldritch was glad to be valued for the skills he had. At first the tasks Valrin put before him were small things - discovering the hours of a shop's operation, retaining this information, and being able to recall it at a moment's notice. This sort of thing was of no great concern to Eldritch. After all, Valrin seemed to be quite forgetful about a lot of things, and it meant that they kept him close. But then Valrin needed to know less dismissable things - a noble's schedule down to the minute, the exact circuit of a guard's route through the town, the bricks that were loose in certain portions of a wall. Eldritch's curiosity was piqued. But Valrin would only answer "It's just business, my dear. Don't worry. But did you find out..?" And of course Eldritch found out anything that Valrin needed to know. Because while he wasn't exactly friendly-looking, he was actually friendly, and as soon as he spent a few days around a clan, he was above suspicion. He travelled for a few years with Valrin, visiting any number of clans in each of the territories. He never really wondered where Valrin got the money to travel so much. They lived pretty hand-to-mouth, but Eldritch assumed that Valrin was independently wealthy and very frugal. That is until they crossed from Shadow into Earth. Earth clans were different to Eldritch. While they were overtly quite friendly and welcoming to strangers, they also seemed to hold some things back, to guard secrets that Valrin wanted to know and Eldritch couldn't uncover. There were things they would speak about and then just trail off with a significant glance from a clanmate. And there were too many times when Valrin insisted they had to make a hasty departure. They followed this pattern for weeks through Earth territories - meet a clan, ask too many questions, politely take their leave, hang around caves for a while, find a new clan, rinse and repeat. But instead of casually seeking information, the longer Valrin spent in Dragonhome, the more driven they became. There were nights when they turned wild-eyed and sharp, and Eldritch did his best to remember the gentle, smooth-talking Valrin that had once charmed him. They continued to travel, making their way steadily towards Cairnstone Rest. The closer they came, the less Valrin ate, the less they slept, the more they walked. And then, one morning, Eldritch woke feeling woozy. The cave they had spent the night in was nowhere in sight, only the open stars at dawn. He felt sick, and his arms and legs were bound, and he felt oddly cold before he realized that patches of his fur had been shaved and darker marks in some pattern that he couldn't discern were inked into his flesh. It was then that he knew he'd been had. He didn't say a word to Valrin as they traveled, and Valrin didn't speak to him, either. Instead, the ridgeback started to speak to an unknown party, unseen and indetectable to Eldritch, discussing and arguing any time they rested between the buttes and mountains. Eldritch stayed quiet. He spent the days thrown across Valrin's back, and his nights with his rope bonds replaced with something cold and black that wasn't metal but seemed to strike nails into his soul if he tried to run. One day, Eldritch heard the clatter of scree, and he looked up in time to see a large guardian take flight against the sky. There was no challenge, nor any hailing. She simply departed. Eldritch dismissed her quickly, assuming she must have been there for a purpose and then left without noticing these strange visitors to Dragonhome. Three days later, Varin made their ascent. They flew with Eldritch in their claws towards the highest plateau in the area. There, they left him. They returned intermittently with the makings of a stone bier. And they started unpacking bits and baubles that Eldritch recognized as treasures from various clans that they visited along their way. He watched in wide-eyed silence as Valrin began scrawling letters Eldritch had never seen before around the base of the bier. He watched the sun starting to set, the first stars twinkling into view. He knew he was going to die. Or worse. He hoped he was going to die, but the darker the sky grew, the more he was sure that the third party was there, an inky shadow against the twilight. Eldritch stared hopelessly down at his bound wrists and he wished - he wished - he'd been canny enough to train as a fighter or a mage or ... well anything that could have gotten him out of this mess. He tried to shimmy away as Valrin began chanting in a language Eldritch didn't know. And it felt like fire was lacing through the ink that scrawled along his flesh. And it looked that way, too. His flesh danced with the red embers of dying coals laced with a shadow blacker than the night. And Eldritch screamed. He heard it echo across the mountains, felt the third presence trace a claw along his jaw. And then heard the most terrifying sound as three huge guardians landed on the plateau with three simultaneous roars. The guardians were all different - one a sleek and quick creature who crashed into Valrin, the second clad in armor with crystal-studded flesh that glowed faintly with a reassuring light, and lastly a guardian that moved slowly but turned his gaze immediately on where Eldritch thought the third presence might be and began chanting in an old tongue that chilled him to the bone. While the guardians fought and the light-touched one guarded Eldritch, he watched the stones themselves pull apart the bier and the dust erase the runes. And while they fought, he thought he heard the one fighting the shadow presence shout "You dare defile our ancestors? You dare bend them to your will? Be gone!" And then, in a rush of silence, all was still beneath the starry sky. It was then the guardians turned their gaze on Eldritch, his flesh still softly glowing as with embers. The one that challenged the shadow frowned to the one covered in gems. "Perhaps Paige will have an answer," the third guardian said, her voice calm but empty of inflection. "I hate to think of inviting an evil inside," the first guardian said, his voice old and tired. "I'll mind him," the light-touched one said. "I have no reason to think it may return in my presence." The other two exchanged a silent look, then took flight. And the light-touched one used his body to create a small enclosure around Eldritch. "We can't touch you," he said, "since we don't know what was done. But know that you're in good hands. I've never seen them kill a bystander before." Eldritch's eyes flashed up towards the guardian. The guardian inclined his head towards the far-end of the plateau. And there, in a heap, lay Valrin. Their blood was slowly wicking into the soil. And in death, there was the easy smile that had so charmed him. Eldritch felt sick all over again. But this time it wasn't with fear. It was with disgust. How could he have let himself be fooled? "There now," the guardian said. "It's over. And we'll put the finishing touches on your freedom in the light of day." "Who are the lot of you?" he asked, retreating back to the safety of the guardian. "I'm Sigil," he answered. "Blackshore saw you a few days ago and caught whiff of something bad. Her family's been chasing down evil since long before either of us was around. She went to Copperlight, the other one who was here, and he called on my aid. We're all here protecting you as our Charge." "I'm no one's charge," Eldritch said. "Ah, but Blackshore's Charge is those lost within the borders. And mine is those in danger near Cairnstone Rest. And Copper's Charge are those whose spirits are in danger of corruption. So where, exactly, do you think you don't fit in, hmm?" Eldritch had to admit he had a point. In the morning, others came. Copperlight returned with a wildclaw named Paige and a pair of coatls named Ink and Sterling. The three of them poked and prodded boldly, taking notes and chattering back and forth in a pijin of draconic and coatl. Finally, Paige broke from the group and reported their findings to Copperlight. While she was gone, Ink and Sterling turned amused looks to Eldritch. "Don't worry, things like this happen to the best of us," Sterling teased in their native tongue. "After all, I'm sure you know drab coatls are bad luck?" Eldritch's neck feathers flared with indignation just as Copperlight approached. The other two coatls fell back, and the old guardian inspected where Paige pointed out parts of the ink searing into Eldritch's flesh. "I see," Copperlight said. And he mixed a few drops of his own blood with the earth beneath them before smearing it in runes across the same routes on Eldritch's body. Eldritch looked around for help from the gathered crowd of dragons. "He's breaking the binding," Paige explained. "Don't worry. You'll be out of the woods soon enough." Copperlight worked quickly, mumbling quietly in an old tongue as he did. Then, one final rune was placed across Eldritch's flesh before the wet earth immediately dried and flaked away on the wind, carrying with it the marks that Valrin had tattooed on him. Immediately, Eldritch's heart felt lighter. He didn't realize he was still carrying a weight of dread with him. But it was gone now. And he looked at the sky above Dragonhome as if it were the first time he had ever seen it. "How can I repay you?" he asked, staring around at the gathered dragons. "Please." "Let's get you ship-shape before we start thinking about that," Paige suggested. "You'll recover for a few days, then you'll be on your way." "But--" Eldritch protested. "This is our duty," Copperlight said, "and our honor. To wipe away what evils we find, this is our cause. You owe us nothing but your word that you will do your best to avoid such troubles in the future." Eldritch allowed himself to be carried back to their citadel, which each dragon referred to as "Oakrest". He thought it rather odd to name any site in Dragonhome after an oak, but the stand of trees that grew in the ravine were undoubtedly oaks. "I didn't know those could grow here," he said stupidly as they landed. "Many things can grow in the desert that outsiders do not consider," Copperlight said. Eldritch spent the next week recovering and getting to know the dragons of Oakrest. There were many different dragons who lived there with many different motives for living there. But he found them all fascinating and delightful, and rather like the Island of Prufrock had been with its large and bustling population of incredibly diverse personalities. And at the end of the week, Copperlight was supposed to speak with him about his plans going forward. But when the old guardian did not show up at the appointed time, Eldritch thought something terrible may have happened and went looking for him. He searched all over Oakrest only to find the old dragon in his study, poring over a scroll. At the sound of Eldritch's knock, the old guardian looked up in surprise. "Copper," he said carefully, "you've been very kind to me. But I think, perhaps, it's time you need my help." After much discussion, it was agreed that Eldritch would stay in Oakrest as the personal clerk to the Council of Elders. He is responsible for organizing their meetings - both fully convened Council meetings and private meetings with individual dragons - and ensuring that everything about their jobs runs smoothly so that they may successfully govern their community. Most dragons know that if they want something put on a Council agenda, they should go to Eldritch to add it to the schedule. And if they can't find him in his office, he's usually in the tow of Copperlight, who is easily his favorite among the Council. But that's not to say that Eldritch won't lend a hand to another dragon if he sees he can help. Eldritch's open and friendly demeanor has made him a well-loved member of the Oakrest clan. He has an amazing memory for where things are filed, as well as an ingenious filing system for a set of cabinets in the back of Bo's library, which contains all manner of public record. Since settling in Oakrest, Eldritch has discovered a love for floral arrangements. He loves spending a few hours to himself each week making new designs with whatever flowers or plants are in season this month. He doesn't have any way of gauging if he's any good at it, since no one else in the clan really does anything like that, but he likes to think he's got a talent for it. Eldritch has also taken the time to learn to defend himself, as he never wants to be caught in a situation like that again. As he grows stronger, he sometimes takes pilgrims on excursions with him so that they may be stronger and better serve Earthshaker when they make the journey with Rikuto to the Pillar. Eldritch is fond of hatchlings, and quite patient as well. While he isn't sure he wants children of his own, he is happy to serve as surrogate uncle for any and all hatchlings that grow up in Oakrest. Despite his rough appearance, he is well-loved by the children of the clan, and many go into the world with stories from Eldritch's life as a cautionary tale. Notably, Ink & Paige's children Bound & Verso have gone to the Island of Prufrock after hearing so many of Eldritch's stories of his childhood. When Eldritch heard this he was at once excited and horrified, until he heard the children had arrived safely and settled in well. In his spare time, Eldritch loves spending time with others. He gets along very well with the other coatls in Oakrest, as well as Paige, Torch, and Setara. He is very good friends with Lightshow, especially since the tundra makes a point of having Eldritch design a floral arrangement for pretty much every occasion he can think of. He is well-connected in his new life, and while Eldritch sometimes thinks his mother would frown over some of the choices he made, he also knows that she ultimately would be pleased with how his life turned out. For a time, he hoped to nurture a romance with the meteorologist, Ansel. However, as he was uncertain of Ansel's feelings towards him, he kept his tongue and remained a polite and thoughtful friend. Shortly after Ansel left to study weather patterns by the sea, trouble brewed in Oakrest, and Eldritch was trapped within the tunnels and hellbent on defending those who once saved him.[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=30337340] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/303374/30337340.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Bernard #30337340] Birth Clan - Unknown Nature Clan Element - Nature Gender - Male Pronouns - He / Him Orientation - Heteroromantic Goes by - Bernard Bernard is quiet and retiring. A crowd of many is often upsetting to him, and as such he spends much time in his quarters or his workshop. There he finds a peaceful companionship with small creatures, a spinning wheel, and a loom. Bernard is known for his fibers. The dye and the stitching are better left to someone else, but he makes sumptuous and supple weaves of even the coarsest flax. His steady hands and seemingly endless patience lend him well to this craft, and many are happy to see Oakrest exporting goods once more. When his nests have hatched, Bernard is often seen with the hatchlings in tow, teaching them about the society and his craft where he can. He wants his children to be well-adjusted and grow up feeling confident and capable, but also aware of their own limitations. While he is often easily startled, he has a relatively easy-going nature, and his warmth is known to many throughout the Citadel. "Come here, little one." Silk-spinner Cultivates and spins silk, wool, cotton, and flax into fibers, then weaves them into fine bolts of cloth STATS STR ?????????? DEX ?????????? CON ?????????? INT ?????????? WIS ?????????? CHA ?????????? R8JGP9q.png NOTABLE RELATIONS Lisabet - Bernard's mate, Lisabet is one of Oakrest's Hunters. Her tendency to exactitude and her impulsiveness are things that drew Bernard to her. He enjoys creating a warm and safe place for her to return when she is finished her tours in the crypts. TRIVIA - Has considered tending bees, but does not find them as nice of companions as caterpillars and spiders - Is also quite accomplished with flax, cotton, and wool, but much prefers silks. - While he weaves quite well, he is terrible at making garments. The geometry of the task frequently escapes him. APPEARANCE NOTES - Is a transvestite, but is not transgender. He simply prefers to wear clothes stereotypically preferred by female dragons. - Often wears different head pieces, color-matched to his mood. - Has a very warm and welcoming smile GOALS - Cultivate a new species of silk worm - Raise a lot of children - he quite likes the idea of a large family[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=28016674] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/280167/28016674.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Bryant #28016674] Birth Clan - Adhamh Element - Nature Gender - Male Pronouns - He / Him Orientation - Nonmonogamous Panromantic Goes by - Bryant, Sass (in his mind) Bryant is one of the rare imperials to live within the Oakrest Citadel. He is most often found late at night or early in the morning, and only if he is wandering to or from a gig. Truth of the matter is that Bryant lives for jazz. If he can find someone who wants to hear his latest compositions, he is there, horn in hand, ready to belt it. If he can get some hep cats swinging, all the better! Trouble is, these stony Oakrest squares are a little bland. They're great for a party on the calendar, but some shook-up nights are what Bryant conspires to acquire. "Steam it up, let's go." Horn Player Laying down some hot licks for the auditory appreciation of anyone in earshot STATS STR ?????????? DEX ?????????? CON ?????????? INT ?????????? WIS ?????????? CHA ?????????? R8JGP9q.png R8JGP9q.png NOTABLE RELATIONS 23626104.png Caridad - Bryant's older sister, Cari leads the shade-hunting militia in their birth clan. Bryant, markedly more relaxed than his sister, chose to leave rather than continue creating arguments with her. "I need a little more chaos in my life," he told her before he left. He thinks well of her and her cause, but wow does he not want in on that ride. He wrote a piece about her, which he titled "Duskfall." 23626105.png Carina - Bryant's sister, Carina left their birth clan before Bryant hatched, but was in the area enough that he felt he could visit her any time. Her welcoming and giving personality was formative in his early attempts at music, and he frequently credits her with being his first audience. He wrote a piece about her called "Brimming Cups." 9566027.png Meadowtouch - The poet of Oakrest, Meadowtouch often collaborates with Bryant - albeit from afar. Bryant's music often underlays a reading of Meadowtouch's latest poems when they are performed within the Citadel. For a time, Bryant had quite the crush on him, but Meadowtouch has made it abundantly clear that he is not interested in more than a working relationship. Meadowtouch wrote a poem about Bryant titled "The Bottle." The only copy is in Bryant's possession. 8707162.png Lightshow - Oakrest's events coordinator, Lightshow is responsible for coordinating all performances for holidays and sanctioned events. He often does what he can to ensure Bryant has an excellent time and location. For a time, the two were lovers, but they have parted amicably. 30165810.png Nibiru - A dancer, Nibiru often seeks out Bryant's jam sessions and performances. They have a standing agreement to practice their dance while Bryant practices his horn, and both seem to take inspiration from the other. Some evenings, Nibiru puts on less elaborate shows for the Citadel, and on those nights they dance to Bryant's piece. It is unusual for them to dance to his pieces during festivals, though. They often choose other music for those events. Bryant is infatuated with them, but doesn't know how to approach them, as they have often cold-shouldered him. 31481087.png Circe - A courier for the Crownfire clan, Circe enchanted Bryant with her straight-forward personality that revealed and hid so much of her. He was inspired by her tremors that shook everything from her hands to her knees to her voice and her laugh, and he wrote what he refers to as the Hummingbird Sequences for any great horn-player to practice quick key-changes and fingering. He was melancholy when their time together finished, but he knew it wasn't a forever thing, since they weren't a forever kind of love - just a nice one, a cheerful one, a distracting one. He was happy to have three children raised out of their time together, and he wishes her all of the best. Sometimes he writes her letters - nothing stressful or steamy, just friendly ones - and he often hopes for a reply. acorn_30b.png TRIVIA - Fluent in jive - Drinks an unsightly amount of coffee - Doesn't sleep a lot (gee, why could that be?) - Kind of tactless when he's lost his patience - Known to write phrases and chords on any paper available, which has largely banned him from portions of the library APPEARANCE NOTES - Chronic Bed Head, Inky Hands, Soft Beard, Tired Eyes - Looks older than he is because he takes abysmal care of himself GOALS - Raise his chops - Maybe settle down, find some beautiful girl or boy or enby or something, you know? Aww, who am I kidding! R8JGP9q.png Hummingbird Lady Love doesn't have to be all-consuming to be real. Bryant smiled. "Let me tell you a thing about dancing." Circe had just explained that the shaking wasn't strictly excitement. She liked the music, sure, but she always seemed like a leaf in a storm, even when she was standing still. He whispered, "You only stop dancing when you stop moving. You only stop moving when you dead." He'd been traveling, playing a few shows, having a few sit-ins and jams with some folks who really knew rhythm. And here was this lady - not a girl, mind, a lady full of class, even with broken nails and eyes that spoke a world of things she didn't want to talk about - who smiled gamely up at him and said, "Well I'm not dead." Oh, she had him by the heart in that moment. Those pale eyes and that smile that twitched just a little, as if it were uncertain how big and grandiose it wanted to pull. It was fun while it lasted. So cliche, but so true. Bryant liked Circe - he liked her fire and her poise and the way her voice quavered when she wasn't trying very hard to be articulate. He spent a while practicing, seeing if he could get his horn to mimic the way her voice tilted and pitched at such odd moments in the conversation. It was intriguing. It was beguiling. It was charming. It was indelibly Circe. He liked to draw conversations with her - not out, and not into, just draw them. Like making a line with a pen, and when you run out of paper, you just change direction, sometimes circling back on yourself. Conversations with Circe were excellent - she'd been all over, and they talked about what they loved and loathed about territories and clans all over the continent. And sometimes, she grew silent just to get the words right. He hung on every silent beat. They kept away from more complicated things like family and history. But it was definitely enough to fill time. Enough to let time get away. Bryant stayed longer than he meant to. He'd cancelled engagements out on the Cloudsong just to chat with this hummingbird, just to take her dancing and see if she hopped as well as she shook. She hopped fine, even if she was nervous. He'd have stayed longer, too, if she was the staying type. Even though he knew her heart wasn't fully his. Love doesn't have to be all-consuming to be real. It can be brief and just as true. He watched her pack up one day. She'd mentioned a parcel and a delivery, and she told him maybe sometime they'd catch up again. Her hands shook as she spoke, and he wondered how much of that was her natural flutters and how many were because she felt something worth keeping was being left behind. He didn't ask. He didn't want to know. In the light after she left, Bryant sat down with coffee and horn. And he noodled a bit, but mostly he wrote. It was complicated and tricky, and to play it you needed chops, but he nailed the notework for Circe's tremors. Runs of sharp little notes, quick fingers, and enough breath that even after you still felt breathless. It took him a few days to write it all down, as well as the note wishing her well. He sealed it and left it with the postmaster for next time she came through on work. You know, provided she was still dancing.[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=30435106] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/304352/30435106.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Sassafras #30435106] Amid her parents' empire, Sassy learned savvy business sense and a chilling devotion to the bottom line. But what she lacked was a sense of purpose. For a long time, Sassy attempted to administer the affairs of others. But leading the economic structure of clans and work collectives left her feeling hollow and frustrated with less devoted artisans. A friend suggested she try her hand at creating her own stock to sell. And so, Sassy set out to find a calling. After many failed attempts, she settled on aromatics. Incense, perfumes, and aromatherapy reagents became her stock and trade. And in the pursuit of ever more challenging environs to source, she traveled to Dragonhome. Seeking herbs found only in the high passes above Cairnstone Rest, Sassy found a home for a while among the Oakrest dragons. And she was trapped within the tunnels when the citadel fell. Among the other survivors trapped within, Sassy forged deep friendships with many of the Hunters of Oakrest. Her understanding of aromas made her first choice for a fair cook, and when the others could not find the items to make the inks necessary to strengthen wards, Sassy's sensitive nose was the one that sniffed out the correct concoction. It was during this time that she met Amund, the sensible seafaring skydancer. They often took patrols together, and during one patrol the two were separated from the rest of the survivors by a small cave-in, and the way ahead was blocked by malevolent spirits. Sassy burned herbs to dissuade the spirits from remaining, and she and Amund found the tunnels led out to new construction, and an even bigger problem than they realized. The two had accidentally stumbled into an excavation shaft started by the Bleachbone Horde. And when they exited the tunnels, they stumbled into the blinding light of Dragonhome and the Horde's eager claws. Sassy and Amund were taken alive and questioned at great extent by Amador and his officers. It was easy to discern that they were looking for something, but the two skydancers could easily attest that they knew nothing about what treasures or dangers lurked beneath Oakrest. Amador ordered them detained. For months, they sweltered in the Horde's makeshift prison. And that was how they met Nibiru, the Captain's dancer. Sassy and Nibiru became quick friends through the bars, and the dancer soon helped them hatch a plan to escape. When asked where they might flee, Nibiru quietly directed their route towards a stand of oaks towards the north of the encampment. There, they said, a huge guardian was sometimes seen circling, and once, they said, it had shrieked in dismay at a package that had been intercepted moments too slow. If that did not suggest the guardian once lived there, Nibiru said that nothing would. They wished the pair good luck and a safe journey. And when Sassy suggested her friend accompany them, the dancer only smiled softly and whispered how their knife would not be happy until it drank its fill of the Captain's blood. She was told that once, they were beautiful, terraced and manicured slopes. They were irrigated with diverted springs and maintained by dragons hoping to feed the mountain communities with their bounty. Tall stands of mountain oaks served as Bordeaux's Charge and Javor's precious wood supply, but they also sheltered lovers and scholars and daydreamers from the oppressive sun of Dragonhome. Sassafras eyeballed the scruffy landscape with distrust. She could see the attempt at terracing, but she sincerely doubted the gardens and 'orchards' of Oakrest were ever as grand as she had been led to believe. All she had asked of that secretary was whether there were any flowering plants nearby. And she'd been directed here. She scoured the landscape with her narrowed eyes. There. One single white flower - possibly jasmine - peeked out from a tangle of chokeweed. Sassafras sniffed in annoyance. She would never be able to produce her oils and perfumes this way. And she certainly didn't have the time or inclination to grow things. What did she look like, a nature dragon? The idea of gardening made her fur stand on end. "It's sad, isn't it?" a soft-stepping snapper asked from behind her. Sassafras turned to see the frankly sad expression of a nature flight dragon staring up at the same expanse. "I've been trying to rehabilitate it," she said, "but I've run into some interesting kinds of disease." Please don't tell me, Sassafras thought to herself. The snapper lived up to her species reputation and began listing all the various parasites and fungi she had found amid the terraced remains of the gardens. Sassafras did her best to pretend she was listening for the first fifteen minutes, but after a while, she tried walking off. The snapper followed her, never breaking stride in her conversation. Sassafras considered leaving, but she had been here first. She was just trying to survey what plants already grew here, and she was going to be chased away by some horticulturalist? She did not think so. So instead, Sassafras patently ignored the snapper, trying her best to find the things she had set out to find. But whether it was due to lack of samples or because the snapper was distracting her, Sassafras' search turned up empty. And then she heard the blessed words, "... about all. But I still found it strange to find so many troubles like this in Dragonhome. In a more humid environment, perhaps. But..." And then, blessedly, she stopped talking. "Funny," Sassafras agreed with a shrug. "Anyway, I must be going. Look at the time." "I hope you'll return later, when the gardens are restored. I sent word to another clan that Eldritch mentioned might be of help to us. They're very good with trees, you see. I am, too, but herbs are more my specialty. I'm Bergamot, by the way." Sassafras stared her down. Then grudgingly gave this snapper her name. "Oh, how delightful! We're both plants!" the snapper giggled. Sassafras continued to stare at her. This dragon could not be serious. "Yes," she agreed tersely. "Well. Do let me know if you have any success." She bade the dragon farewell, then set about wondering if there were wild plants that she could gather for her oils instead. Even if the orchards and gardens were restored, Sassafras sincerely doubted her need to spend any time there so long as there was a snapper about.[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=27179624] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/271797/27179624.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Syn #27179624] BIOGRAPHY Syn is a cheerful skydancer, he likes to speak with dragons from the clan about silly stuff but likes to do pranks more than anything else. His favorite one is letting other dragons think that him and Sen ,his twin brother, are the same dragon! As their clutch hatched out of the lair, everybody but their parents always believed that there were only four eggs. They don’t really remember how this prank started, but since that time, Syn and Sen never were together in the same place in company of other dragons, keeping the prank going. With the passage of time, it became an inside joke and both of them laugh a lot about that. That is their secret, and they know that life would be less funny if everybody knew the truth. They see each other most often in their office, where they pass most of their time and the rest of the Clan rarely goes. Here, they work on their spells and potions as like their mother they decided to practice sorcery. They achieve more work together than the others can expect a single dragon to do. Syn and his brother like to hear about the silly story their clan mate created to explain how such a huge amount of work can be done in such little time. Some of them think that the dragon they name “Sensyn” has found a way to never sleep, some others spoke about a devilish pact. All of these speculations make them snigger a lot. Arsenic their father who liked to make fun of people never told the clan that Sensyn was in fact Twins named Sen and Syn and the two Skydancers are thankful about that. There is also their clutch brother, Exalt, that is in the confidence. He doesn't really joke about that, especially because the twins played some pranks toward him, but Sen says that he became curious to see how long this could long. ___DRAGON RELATED Quote: FAMILY TWIN 27179620.png?mtime=V-6R1QAAWAA.png Sen BROTHER 27179623.png?mtime=V-4aEwAAU8Q.png Exalt SISTER 27179621.png?mtime=V_Ap1AAAYMQ.png Synora ELDER SISTER 26608216.png?mtime=V-2H-wAAWQU.png Sonate GRAND FATHER 20740205.png?mtime=V-2G4wAAUJ0.png PaonDragon ELDER BROTHER 24972904.png?mtime=V5vnsQAAUtw.png Tame ELDER SISTER 24972906.png?mtime=V5beWQAARb8.png Cross [/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=27179620] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/271797/27179620.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Sen #27179620] _BIOGRAPHY Sensyn is a strange dragon that seems to be very inconsistent. One day he is your best friend, the next, he just doesn’t care about you. The dragons of the lair have learned to deal with it and they don’t try to understand the behavior of their clan mate anymore. After all, Sensyn is a warlock… a great one! He spends a lot of time in his office and seems to be able to do twice as much work as anybody else. The shelves are always full of ingredients, recipes and spells well written on parchment and there is always something boiling in his cauldron. Some other dragons have suspected Sensyn of having done some creepy invocation to be assisted by some obscure demon and when they ask, the Skydancer has never denied. The dragons of the Clan of the Dead Stag don’t ask more questions. His parents were oddities, as well as their children. Arsenic, his father, was always special. So much that the only girl that wanted to keep him as a mate was actually a sorceress from the wind flight. There is no doubt that Sensyn has inherited his sorcery skills from her and everyone knows that they trade an important correspondence thanks to Syndetta’s familiar. ___DRAGON RELATED Quote: FAMILY TWIN 27179624.png?mtime=V-6RmgAAWAY.png Syn BROTHER 27179623.png?mtime=V-4aEwAAU8Q.png Exalt SISTER 27179621.png?mtime=V_Ap1AAAYMQ.png Synora ELDER SISTER 26608216.png?mtime=V-2H-wAAWQU.png Sonate GRAND FATHER 20740205.png?mtime=V-2G4wAAUJ0.png PaonDragon ELDER BROTHER 24972904.png?mtime=V5vnsQAAUtw.png Tame ELDER SISTER 24972906.png?mtime=V5beWQAARb8.png Cross [/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=12074122] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/120742/12074122.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Blackshore #12074122] Oakrest's Guardian of the Stones Please return to @ixris Thank you! :) - Grew up with her siblings; proudly watched her brother go serve the gods; assisted younger sister Stonewatch in her duties as Guardian of the Stones - Moved with the lair to Greatwyrm's Breach, then later was there when the tunnels to Cairnstone were opened - Traveled abroad with Stonewatch to various places, and eventually watched sister decide she was ready to serve as ambassador to a plague clan - Proudly took on mantle as Guardian of the Stones when her sister left to pursue a new life with a new family[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=26826962] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/268270/26826962.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Sixten #26826962] Birth Clan - Oakrest Element - Earth Gender - Male Pronouns - He / His Orientation - Heteroromantic Goes by - Six, Sixten Sixten is known as a proud dragon - not too proud to accept help, but definitely so proud that everyone knows his lineage and skills. He is sometimes a bore to the other dragons of Oakrest, but he proves his salt time and again. Many describe him as 'a true Earth dragon' - stubborn, headstrong, and reverent of traditions. Others describe him as 'silver-tongued' and acknowledge that he is the best-spoken among the Hunters of Oakrest. Six, as he is often known around the clan, is often sent on diplomatic missions to neighboring clans and the local longneck tribes in an effort to maintain peace. When he is not diplomatically deployed, Six spends his time in the tunnels to Cairnstone, negotiating with and binding spirits, revenants, and other horrors so that more skilled Hunters may come through and destroy them. Spiritually sensitive since a young age, Six has always seen the hauntings that many others can't detect. Not as vulnerable to their touches as his mother and some of his siblings, Six nonetheless learned early on how to keep his soul and hide intact. Six is known to charm spirits to reveal themselves. Using perfumed fans and a few pieces of jingling jewelry, he delicately calls them from their hiding places within the aether. Not brave by any sense of the word, Six is nonetheless an excellent depth sounder. He will sometimes roam Cairnstone openly and leave marks and sigils where the spiritual activity is growing too intense for him to risk his neck. In this way, other Hunters have found deeper, more insidious horrors than they otherwise may have tracked. "Something's not quite right..." Negotiator Enters into binding agreements with spirits and clans on behalf of Oakrest STATS STR ?????????? DEX ?????????? CON ?????????? INT ?????????? WIS ?????????? CHA ?????????? R8JGP9q.png R8JGP9q.png NOTABLE RELATIONS 22790205.png Riad - Six's father, Oakrest's previous negotiator. Riad was so talented that he was able to talk the Elders of Oakrest into allowing him and his mate, Adva, to remain in the area, despite Adva's affliction. After many years of living in the desert, Riad talked his mate into returning to his favorite region of his travels - Light. The pair has taken up residency with the Endhaven Clan. Six takes after his father in more ways than one. And though they look very similar, Six is more reserved than his father. This is thought to be the temperament of Earth dragons compared with Wind dragons. 22785515.png Adva - Six's mother, she is haunted by water spirits. It is unknown whether she is cursed or assisted, but she often feels threatened by these beings. Adva has sought out a life as far from water as possible, and for a long time lived in the shadow of Oakrest. Never fully accepted there due to her condition, she and her mate, Riad, eventually left to seek better opportunities among the Endhaven Clan in the region of Light. 30381067.png Cortado - Six's mate, she is afflicted with Waylan's psoriasis. Her scales grow in hard lumps which restrict her movement and have eventually claimed her vision. Now blind, she has joined Oakrest as an antiquities dealer and a tax collector. Six enjoys her company and her independent nature. acorn_30b.png TRIVIA - His name derives from an old name meaning 'stone of victory' in ancient Scandinavian APPEARANCE NOTES - His pearlcatcher whiskers are rather short, giving him a comically serious appearance - His pearl is neither obsessively smooth nor neglected - His build is lithe, favoring speed and dexterity over raw strength. - He doesn't smile much. Cortado tells him she can tell, because his voice is different when he is. GOALS - Find the perfect cup of coffee. Ever since Cortado introduced him to the drink, he is quite keen on finding and savoring that ideal roast. [/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=34209125] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/342092/34209125.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Unnamed #34209125] Microlore: Born of the Clan of Blood and Clay, she was stolen from her nest by a harpy raid and lost. Only when she came to Oakrest did Bordeaux know her for his brother's daughter. So strange to be among those irreparably lost, and yet find a place known to her family. She was swept into the fold of her family early on, and when her father came at last to collect her, she went with him. Though not for long. She found her actual birth clan to be woefully misinformed on so many fronts, not least was the treating of the dead. She returned to Oakrest, still barely accepted by the other stolen children (and often viewed resentfully by them for finding her place so easily), and she took it upon herself to educate herself on the operations of the Citadel so that Copperlight could have one less thing on his plate. She has an aloof air, never fully committing to those who surround her, though demonstrating time and again her actual reliability. Though she socially seems distant, she is no moreso than Bordeaux himself, and many have accepted her quiet, distant smiles as a way of insulating herself from a bond with others that she fears may be severed at any moment. She is most interested in the merchant sectors of the Citadel, and she is enchanted by the stories of the craftsdragons who lived there before her time. She has taken this area under her wing and hopes to develop a collective of artisans who will one day be the talk of Oakrest once more.[/quote]

OH MY GOD DON'T DO THAT.

Eulerian are you just throwing all the bios in here in case they disappear. XD

Like these are the most random dragons??? XD Why did you pick these??

Quis - YES. SHE IS. lololololol

[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=31111933] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/311120/31111933.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Ayla #31111933] Birth Clan - Prufrock Element - Arcane (Earth Fused) Gender - Female Orientation - Too Busy To Consider ((MASON MASON MASON)) "SNAZZY QUOTE" Mason Stone-cutter, stone-carver, brick-layer and admirer of architecture STATS STR ?????????? DEX ?????????? CON ?????????? INT ?????????? WIS ?????????? CHA ?????????? R8JGP9q.png R8JGP9q.png NOTABLE RELATIONS 31111934.png Quercus - Ayla's brother, he decided to remain on the Island of Prufrock when Ayla decided to seek out Oakrest. Ayla worries about her brother often, though she knows that he is in good hands with Avery by his side. Ayla writes regular letters home, and is sure to include something for Quercus specifically every time. She hopes to encourage him to travel should his condition allow it. 881885.png Butternut - Stonetouched cleric of Oakrest, Butternut has taken on the duties of attempting to help Ayla with her possession. The two meet regularly to discuss any changes and problems that the young wildclaw is experiencing. Butternut does not say so, but she often senses the spirit nearby and hopes to be rid of it for Ayla's sake. 9317877.png Ink - Ayla's grandmother in Oakrest, she is fascinated and perturbed by Ayla's condition. Though Ink is often busy in the tunnels beneath the clan, she tries to make sure she takes time to spend with her granddaughter, who is her only descendant who has returned to Oakrest. 18388185.png Paige - Ayla's grandmother in Oakrest, she is very supportive, even if she's not really sure what the best way forward is. Paige enjoys tea with Ayla on a regular basis, and the two often discuss books and theater. Paige is delighted to have a younger relative to spoil, though she would never say so out loud. family%20tree%20Mketi%20for%20bio_zpsjj1kh4fs.png Ayla is a member of the M'keti family. Through her heritage, she is also descended of a moon spirit, though this does not seem to have any affect on her. acorn_30b.png TRIVIA - Can utilize the earth spirit's powers to mimic earth magic. Does not appear to have much arcane, despite her birth flight. APPEARANCE NOTES - Chandra frequently mistakes Ayla for former clanmate Murphy. GOALS - Get un-possessed. - Find out what she's really good at. R8JGP9q.png Backstory The winter winds returned on the day the eggs hatched... Original lore by Salathielly / 245141 The spirits and dragons dwelling on the island of Prufrock in the Starfall Isles had reached an uneasy truce. The thin veil separating the island from the spirit realm had been shored up and patched, and while many spirit ambassadors manifested physical forms and dwelt among the island's dragons, passage through the veil was limited and strictly supervised in the hopes of keeping the boundary between the realms stable. It had been a long time since the last attack on the clan by malevolent spirits, and that, combined with several days of unseasonably balmy weather in the winter months, contributed to an atmosphere of relief and festivity. During this period of calm, two couples decided to make nests on the grounds near the island's heart, each nest resulting in two eggs. The nesting grounds were situated among gardens whose flowers had been tricked into blooming early by the warm weather, and the watchful parents enjoyed strolling through the blossoms as they awaited the birth of their offspring. The first pair, clan founder and head librarian Emrys and his mate, the warrior Elyta, had raised many hatchlings together, though all had since left the clan to seek their charge, to enter the service of the deities, or to find more materials for their research. They had recently adopted several stray hatchlings, however, which had rekindled their desire to have hatchlings of their own. The second pair, bestiary compiler Tome and carpenter Johnna, kept watch over their first nest, both nervous at the thought of being parents but eagerly anticipating meeting their offspring and seeing which parent they took after, what personalities they developed. The winter winds returned on the day the eggs hatched, specks of snow whipping about the dragons huddled around the nesting grounds. Emrys was attending to the library's magical wards, and Jo was in her workshop finishing a commission, but Tome and Elyta stood watch, shivering in the unexpected chill. Tome's father-in-law, the genealogist Etsu, kept vigil with them, awaiting the newest additions to his family tree. Wards and warning systems had been placed throughout the island, but somehow a malevolent earth spirit slipped through and made its way to the nesting grounds, intent on disrupting the lineages of the clan's founder Emrys and its leader Eztli, Etsu's older brother. The spirit, shaped like a shadowy, spotted beast of prey, crept up on the nests just as a crack appeared in one of Tome and Jo's eggs. Tome, raised in Oakrest by mothers who had trained him to combat such beings, was quick to spot the threat, though thanks to a battle with a similar spirit when he was younger, he had lost the use of his left leg and was no longer able to fight. He shouted a warning to Elyta - the guardian was in charge of the clan's martial defense and had fended off far greater foes - but the spirit hadn't manifested a physical form, and she lacked the ability to see it. She blindly struck out, aided by Tome's directions, frantic to keep the peril away from the hatching eggs. Etsu looked on helplessly, as the scholar could neither see the spirit nor fight it. He tried to stand in between the spirit and the nests, but he had no way of knowing from which direction the spirit would come. As the crack broadened and a small snout stuck out, the spirit slipped between Elyta's outstretched claws and darted into the newly hatched wildclaw, eager to escape the relentless onslaught of blows and set on possessing the young, impressionable dragon. Tome watched in dismay as the spirit merged with his daughter; he limped over, resolved to do everything in his power to drive it out, but he was stopped by the sudden appearance of his elder siblings, the exorcists Bound and Verso. They had been on the mainland in Lantern Port, purchasing beeswax candles from a traveling merchant for use in their rituals, when they detected a breach in the wards. The siblings flew back to the island, arriving just in time to see the spirit fly into their niece. Cracks had meanwhile appeared in the shells of the three other eggs, and the dragons hastily moved the emerging hatchlings into vacant nests while the exorcists sealed off the area surrounding the newborn wildclaw as they attempted to drive the spirit out of her. Much to their horror, they soon realized that the spirit had merged so tightly with her that the only methods they knew to employ to separate them would result in her death. Emrys had arrived by that time, the wards having alerted him that something was amiss, and he helped the exorcists place runes on the wildclaw to seal away the spirit and to protect the hatchling's psyche from it - since they couldn't separate the two, they did what they could to segregate the spirit within the wildclaw's form and ward her against its influences. They also placed protective runes on the other hatchlings - the wildclaw's coatl brother, and the two sons of Emrys and Elyta. A day that should have been happy and joyous had been ruined, though the parents did what they could to turn their sorrow into hope as they gave the hatchlings their runes and their names. The wildclaw Ayla and her brother Quercus were both named after the oak tree - an emblem of strength as well as the symbol of Tome's childhood home and his mate Jo's favorite wood. The guardian Avery and the tundra Evin were likewise given names that meant "wise counselor" and "young warrior" in the hopes that they would grow strongly and live up to their names. The protective runes and promising names appeared to do little to help, however. Ayla was never sure if her thoughts were her own rather than the spirit's, and she seemed to possess both a spiritual sight and a physical strength that exceeded that of most dragons. She studied under her exorcist aunt and uncle, learning about spirits in the hopes of recognizing the spirit's influence on her, and she kept a diary to try to decipher which parts of her were really her. Her sibling and her nestmates had not been attacked directly, but they still suffered the effects of the spirit's assault. Her brother Quercus was plagued by seizures, while the guardian Avery was dismayed when his tundra brother grew bigger than he; the clan's physician diagnosed him with dwarfism, and while it was possible that both of their conditions could have been inherited, the parents were far more eager to blame the spirit, whose foul aura had surrounded the nesting grounds as the hatchlings broke free of their eggs. Evin was the only one who appeared unscathed, though this affected him in its own way - the others could bond over the ways the attack had marked them, and the adults showered them with attention, but he was expected to be the strong one, the "normal" one, as he was the only one without a condition or special needs. Though Ayla was skilled at fighting, her more astute relatives worried that facing threats would cause her to unconsciously draw on the spirit's abilities, weakening the boundaries between them, so they did their best to redirect her interests to other pursuits. She spent time with several of the clan's craftsdragons, learning their trades, and she discovered that she excelled best at anything that had to do with materials that came from the earth. She learned to carve stone and work wood, how to grow a plant from a seed and nurture it, and how and where to hunt and forage - though she was usually the first to spot prey and wondered if this, too, was the spirit's influence rather than her own innate talent. As Ayla grew and matured, she became disheartened by her birth clan's attitude toward spirits. The attack on the clan's nesting grounds had been quite a blow and had caused her, her nestmates, and their parents no small amount of suffering; why hadn't the resident spirits been banished and the veil sealed more permanently to better protect the clan's dragons? Her aunt and uncle explained to her that such drastic measures weren't an option - the veil could never be entirely sealed, only warded, and it was safer in many ways to negotiate with the spirits rather than banish them...if they even could banish the powerful entities who lived alongside the island's dragons. Those who chose to dwell on the island would simply have to deal with the consequences of living in close proximity to the fragile veil between the realms. Unsatisfied by their answers, she instead pestered them for stories of their birth clan of Oakrest - a place where threats were fought rather than placated. She also began to dream that perhaps her grandmothers could do what her father, aunt, and uncle could not: drive out the spirit inside her. Finally she took her leave of her relatives and journeyed north to Dragonhome, hoping to find and free herself by digging into her family's roots.[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=24657746] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/246578/24657746.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Sunfall #24657746] A monk - you know, like a boxer class. Original lore by Egress / 246208: The group stood around the tiny Tundra, perplexed. "But what is a Tundra doing in the desert?!" the cranky Wildclaw, Grimma, demanded. Again. "You can keep asking that but it will not make an answer appear." The reply came from a curious Ridgeback named Lith. He was scratching the wide-eyed and delighted hatchling behind her ear. "She is wind-eyed. I suppose the winds of Harpy's Roost please her?" Speculated the Guardian Morro, unhappy to be so far from her own charge. "She should be hot," continued Grimma stubbornly, "but she seems just fine. A tundra should not be fine in a desert!" "Will you quite yelling so much? You will scare her." Lith scooped her up and she gave a great yawn. "I am not yelling!" That evening, at Havenslee, the trio inspected the tiny Tundra again by the light of the fire. It was the first time in ages that they ignored their loot for another topic of interest. "Call her Sunfall," suggested Morro, "because she might as well have fallen from above." Her curiosity was getting the best of her. "Sunfall..." replied Lith, "I like that." "We cannot keep her here." Grimma's tones had grown softer in time, but she switched to her haughtiest voice. "Battlegrounds are no place for a hatchling." "You hide your concern poorly!" The laughter of Morro and Lith startled the wee Tundra, and with a hiccup a burst of light shone forth. "Was... was that Light magic?" The astonishment was not cloaked in Grimma's voice. "That... that is not possible!" "Wind uses Wind. Light uses Light..." Lith was peering closely at Sunfall's eyes in the light of the fire. "AAAAAH!" He jumped back as another hiccup produced a tiny burst of flame. "Good grief!" Morro exclaimed, her tone warm, "You would think a volcano erupted in your face from that reaction!" Sunfall appeared oblivious to their astonishment. With a great yawn she curled up into a tiny furry ball and was almost instantly asleep. After scant additional chatter the adults planned a new course to Chromote, a small scholarly enclave on the edge of Light Flight territory. If anyone could explain their strange find it was a bookish scholar, and the battles would await their return. "She is obviously a Meldling." "They are rare, perhaps one in 80,000 hatchings, but not exactly astounding." The two Pearlcatcher scholars had been trying to out-disinterest while simultaneously out-pedant one another since the trio arrived. "Meldlings are born with the ability to use several types of magic, but their non-flight magic cannot be used offensively." "Or defensively or as support-based magic." Lith was growing annoyed. The pair had the same monotone voice, the same habit of barely glancing up from their scrolls while talking, and event the same pale yellow scales. It was with great, mutual offence that the two had informed him that they were not related. "She singed my nose." "Almost, anyway." Grimma clarified. "Her Light and Flame magic will never extend beyond pretty light shows. For power she will have to turn to Wind." "How did she get like this though?" Morro was, by now, thoroughly absorbed in the young one's origins. The trio had constructed a veritable tome of improbable origin tales while trekking to Chromote. Even Grimma seemed to enjoy herself during the journey. The pause before the reply was insulting. "She was born that way." "But why?!" Grimma's shortness for once reflected the feelings of her companions. "We do not know!" The Pearlcatcher's admission startled his companion. "This mystery is still being studied and is not considered to be of high priority." His hasty clarification did little to reestablish their, at best only self-recognized, superiority. "Only those who believe silly hatchling's tales focus on such matters." The first Pearlcatcher's tone was so deliberately level that Morro could not suppress a snicker. "What is the t" "My parents believed silly tales were a waste of time." Grimma said, her tone dismissive as she pushed aside Lith. Morro caught on immediately. "Grimma, do be patient. If we fail to entertain Lith's curiosity we will be stuck here all day." Lith kept silent. She was familiar with this game and never liked it. Yet she could not deny its effectiveness. "At least," Grimma replied, apparently annoyed, "we have decent company here." Both Pearlcatchers looked up in alarm, their gaze fixed on their visitors. "There is a library!" "Yes a library!" "We can give you a summary, then you can look up any details as you wish." "If would be far more efficient... and interesting!... than listening to us." "We are not the best storytellers you know." "Except for historical or otherwise academic narration!" "You are most kind!" The Guardian did not even try and hide her grin. "Oh very well," grumbled Grimma, suppressing her amusement far more effectively, "If it gets us out of here sooner, so be it." The Pearlcatchers signed in unison. "Meldlings hatch with normal abilities of their own Flight's magic, but also the ability to summon very weak incarnations of other Flights' magic. Which other magics they can use is apparent from soon after birth and never changes. They tend to be good natured and conflict-averse as a rule, whether they are born Mirror or Ridgeback, Earth or Plague. Aside from that oddity, the fact that their offspring appear to be no more likely than any other to be Meldlings, and their magical oddities little is known about them. The superstitious believe that Meldlings possess prophetic powers and can see the outcome of future conflicts between the Flights whose magic they possess. They claim that Meldlings are born some years before particularly devastating clashes in order to prevent the Flights from totally annihilating one another by acting as mediators. There is no evidence for any of that, however. For more details, do consult the library. They will have some tome on Meldling tales." Lith clutched her new purchase, a pair of books, tightly in her claws. "I know you are right. We spend far too much time on the battlefield to provide her a good home. You cannot seriously ask me to be happy to send her off though!" "No," Grimma replied, making no attempt to hide her sincere concern from her friend, "I cannot. But if we find her a good home you can still be in her life. You will have to visit her if someone is to read her those 'superstitious bedtime stories' you bought her." Lith smiled slightly. "We will keep in touch." Morro's tone was warm as she stroked behind Sunfall's ears, both her and the young one's gaze firmly fixed on her friend. "This will not be the last time we see her." "I know." Lith replied mournfully. "I just hope one of these seekers is worthy of her." Are you?[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32266487] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/322665/32266487.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Periwinkle #32266487] Birth Clan - Unknown Wind Clan Element - Wind Gender - Female Pronouns - She / Her Orientation - Heteroromantic Goes by - Periwinkle, Peri Periwinkle's voice is clear and sonorous, able to strike notes many do not expect from a female's throat. Deep, resonant tones fill the amphitheaters where she performs, cutting the silence of Dragonhome and rising to fill the air. She is a skald and a singer, performing songs both new and old, though she much prefers the old ones sung in languages no one practical speaks any more. She is fluent in these old tongues, having studied at great length under ancient dragons who speak them still and having studied at the Pillar of the World under some of the exalted who knew the words spoken by the gods when the world was yet young. She is extremely talented, and she is extremely beautiful. Her taste is reputed to be impeccable, but she is just as comfortable dressed down as she is in performance gowns and jewelry. She understands that for her art, appearance is important, but not nearly so much as her actual voice. She is the devoted mate of Dawn, the signal dragon, and her surprisingly light-hearted laughter is often heard by those who pass the pair together. "Please, let's try again." Concert Singer Preserver of old songs with a voice that stirs the soul STATS STR ?????????? DEX ?????????? CON ?????????? INT ?????????? WIS ?????????? CHA ?????????? R8JGP9q.png R8JGP9q.png NOTABLE RELATIONS 23732763.png Dawn - Periwinkle's mate, he is Oakrest's signal master. The two met when Dawn was traveling north from the Southern Ice Fields to seek a new life together, and they traveled to the Pillar of the World for Peri's research into the old tongues among the exalted. There, Dawn fell in love with the open expanses of Dragonhome, and for the first time in their relationship won an argument, and the two determined to stay in the region for a time. acorn_30b.png TRIVIA - On days leading up to concerts, she is known to rest her voice so much she does not speak at all. She has taken to picking up sign language from Dilshad to help her communicate on these days. APPEARANCE NOTES - She is astoundingly beautiful when she is ready to perform, but on the whole thinks of herself as an average-looking coatl. - Her eyes are her most stunning feature - She is slightly snub-nosed[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=23732763] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/237328/23732763.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Dawn #23732763] Birth Clan - Frostfire Element - Ice Gender - Demiguy Pronouns - He / His or They / Their Orientation - Queer Dawn is Oakrest's signal captain. He hoists enormous flags from various pinnacles to signal to those outside the Citadel any news of evacuation, calm, or events to be held soon. Throughout the day, Dawn visits each banner site, ensuring that the lines are still secure and that the banners have not been tampered with. He works in close conjunction with Blackshore and Radomir, both known for their impeccable eyesight and observation. He plays at being the strong, silent type, but he stitches and mends all his signal flags himself. If he is not performing his rounds, he can often be found weaving and dying small quantities of fabric to serve as patches for those flags too damaged by weather or beastclans. Dawn lives with his mate, Periwinkle, and generally does not make waves. He enjoys the physical exertion of his work, and he enjoys being helpful to his clanmates. He finds carrying the news, even in such simplistic manner as color-coded pennants, rewarding work. He is proud to serve this way and keep Oakrest a safer place. "I'll get right on it." Signal Master Keeper of flags and signaler of news STATS STR ?????????? DEX ?????????? CON ?????????? INT ?????????? WIS ?????????? CHA ?????????? R8JGP9q.png R8JGP9q.png NOTABLE RELATIONS 32266487.png Periwinkle - Dawn's mate, she is a singer of great renown. While their relationship is sometimes tempestuous, Dawn is fiercely loyal to her, and he is known to fold to her whims and demands. His only major victory, so far as anyone can tell, came of convincing her to move to Dragonhome. acorn_30b.png TRIVIA - To save money at the tailor's, he mends Periwinkle's opera gowns when he can. He's gotten so good at it, she doesn't even notice when he's repaired a seam. APPEARANCE NOTES - Has a narrow face and a bit of an overbite GOALS - Beat his fastest hoist times by 20 seconds - Make banners for the lairs of all his closest friends (and perhaps acquaintances)[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=21521593] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/215216/21521593.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Shearwater #21521593] -Lives in the cliffs far outside Oakrest proper, but still counted as one of the 'community' -Imperials just don't live above the tunnels to Cairnstone BECAUSE WHY WOULD YOU INVITE PROBLEMS!?!?!?! D: -Is an adept fisherdragon -Trades his fish for other supplies from the citadel -Gets on well with pretty much everyone -Rather mild dragon, earnest and truthful and a little awkward -Cleans up pretty well, though, and is known to put on his 'best' for visitors he is expecting -Loves the sound of the sea against the rocks[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=29927883] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/299279/29927883.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Kjellfrid #29927883] Exiled Caravan Guard "Let me show you how 'useless' I am." Note: I try to keep to species lore cannon! :) A seasoned fighter, Kjellfrid isn't afraid of a challenge she knows she can win. After being cast out by her birth clan, Kjellfrid has spent the last several years learning to survive on her own with only Ambrus, her familiar and constant companion. Mostly, she has stuck to the interior of Dragonhome, where she's toughened up quite a bit between the beastclans, the unwelcoming landscape, and the isolation of clans. While she longs for the friendship and love she saw her siblings and peers receive, she has given up hoping that another will see value in her. Instead, she struggles to survive as best she can - fighting what she can, fleeing what she can't. She carries a bag with her full of various remedies to snakebites, abrasions, and other maladies one may befall in the desert. And she wears clothes painstakingly embroidered by her own claws. Truth be told, she misses the constant beauty of her birth clan. As such, the lairs she sets up are often marked with murals and carvings in no time. Used to going wherever the wind blows, she wasn't too upset when her familiar took off one evening. She had to chase him down, and by the time she had found him again, she was well and truly lost within the lands of Shadow. 4MTZl5q.png ???????????????? { STATS } Strength ?????????? Agility ?????????? Intelligence ?????????? Vitality ?????????? Luck ?????????? ???????????????? ???????????????? { ACHIEVEMENTS } ???????????????? ???????????????? { RP LOG } Beginnings ???????????????? ???????????????? { TRIVIA } - Youngest of three nestmates, has an elder sister and brother - Far-sighted (can't see up close), but assumes that's normal - Fumbles her way through embroidery and other artistic talents, but isn't very good at them, since she can't see the details she's working with - Creates even though she's not great at it because she grew up in a culture that valued art and expression, and she aims to value that heritage, even if she's terrible at it. ???????????????? ???????????????? { GIJINKA NOTES } - Not. Caucasian. Has a light brown skin tone. - Totally has freckles, because freckles are the best - Her clothes are all functionally mended in some place or another, and also embellished with amateur embroidery ???????????????? ???????????????? { GOALS } - MAKE. FRIENDS. - Prove herself a capable fighter - Find a place where she isn't judged worthless just because she looks different ???????????????? tumblr_o8jld6tRHZ1tv56zio5_250.png { G A L L E R Y } (click to see images full-size) kjellfrid-jan-crop.jpg kjellfrid-feb-crop2.jpg tumblr_o5jg0usgr51vq8owco10_100.png { R E L A T I O N S } Ambrus ~ "Familiar" Ambrosius, or "Ambrus" as he quickly became renamed when he made his name known to a small child, was sent by Circe to kidnap an egg of one of the most beautiful dragon pairs he could find. He chose Kjellfrid's egg. Assigned to remain close to her during her formative years, the clan assumed he was merely a bonded familiar to their strange youngster. Little did they know, Ambrus' agenda is completely malicious. ??? ~ Didn't I let you go already? Kjellfrid swears she released this toad miles ago! And yet she keeps finding it in her bag. She's given up. It's just around sometimes. It doesn't even have a name. :\ Toad, go home! he1e56Z.png NAME ~ Relation WORDS WORDS WORDS ok5h03Z.png { H I S T O R Y } The Painted Skies clan was a migratory clan known for their beautiful markings and brilliant colors. Each member was like a canvas. Not only were their hides a myriad of colors and patterns, but they were accented by tattoos and body paint, feathers and jewels, to aggrandize each member's part in the clan. Kjellfrid's parents were the clan's blacksmith - known for her intricate, scrawling metalwork - and the one of the clan's fierce guards - a ruthless trainer of fighters and caravan guards. They were among the most striking dragons in the clan, and their children were often welcomed by other clans to pursue their ambitions. Their most recent nest, however, was one of ill omen. Three eggs were lain, and three eggs hatched. The first two were a male and female, handsomely patterned like their father, colored like their mother. The third, however, was born patternless. The clan chieftain drew near with his closest advisors who muttered over the newly hatched wildclaw. Some hissed of trickery, and others of cuckoos eggs, but Kjellfrid's mother swept her child away before the worst could be said - "Worthless." Kjellfrid grew under a cloud of mistrust, even from her own siblings. Teased by those whose love and approval she desperately wanted, she threw herself headlong into learning what she could from any who would teach her. But her mother would only sigh and shake her head when she asked, and her father would only huff and call another to train. Only Ambrus, the barkback boar who had bonded with her as a hatchling, seemed to hold any warmth for her. She did not have to hear the word to internalize what others thought of her. Still, she wanted that affection, that thinnest familial thread. She watched her father train recruits to the guard, and she longed to impress him. So, whenever the training grounds weren't being used, she would try to push herself to the same standards her father expected. She knew she risked his ire, but she couldn't live without purpose. And she knew she could learn to do this, to fight and defend, to hunt and kill if necessary. It was her mother who discovered this secret practice of hers. And it was her mother who counselled her to explain to her father what she had been doing. Kjellfrid remembered the look on her mother's face for years: proud, but also afraid. When she told her father, at first his rage was like a sudden storm. But Kjellfrid begged him to let her show him what she had learned. When he pitted her against a young guard, Kjellfrid lost, but she showed enough promise that her father took her under his wing at last. He taught her to tighten her footwork, to judge and gauge an enemy, and when the opportunity arose how to land a killing strike. She studied under him for years, learning everything she could and following the Painted Skies clan wherever the wind would lead them. Kjellfrid earned the grudging respect of her fellow guards as she slowly was given more and more responsibility. And though no clans wanted her specifically to join them, she at last felt like she at least belonged. She was no longer a leaf on the current. She worked with others to protect the caravan of dragons as they moved to their next destination. And she did her best to help those she could. But one day while traveling through Dragonhome, the caravan was set upon by harpies. The guards took to the skies to protect the young and the artisans. The captain directed Kjellfrid to protect a group of hatchlings from the vicious beasts, and Kjellfrid hurried to obey. She did not count on the magic blows rained down upon her from a foe far above. She careened towards the earth, too stunned to get to her feet while she watched those she had been charged to protect fall screaming beneath the harpies' claws. By the time she was upright, most of the fray was over, and many were dead or wounded. But the sight of the dead who had been her charge was burned into Kjellfrid's heart. Her father tried to console her. Her mother tried to distract her. Her chieftain called her before him. Her ears lost what exact words he spoke. Her heart was too filled with pain to carry any more. But the last she knew she heard, and she heard it well. "We should have killed a blankskin like you when we had the chance. Get out, before you kill anyone else of value." [/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=29475713] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/294758/29475713.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Radomir #29475713] Birth Clan - Lair at the Eye of the Storm Element - Wind Gender - Male Pronouns - He / His Orientation - Heteroromantic Goes by - Radomir, Radya One of Oakrest's guards, Radomir is posted outside the Citadel at the Western Terrace Entrance. This is the primary entrance to the clan, used by merchants and diplomats. Radomir's keen eyes see all, and though he does not look shrewd, he remembers and draws accurate conclusions about the nature of those who pass him both coming and going. He is discreet, but he is not corruptable. Those who attempt to pay him off have found themselves unpleasantly at the mercy of Copperlight, who has no patience for such foolishness. Those who wish to remain on Radomir's good side abide by the laws of Oakrest and respect their fellow travelers. "Afternoon." Sentry A keen eye on all who come and go STATS STR ?????????? DEX ?????????? CON ?????????? INT ?????????? WIS ?????????? CHA ?????????? R8JGP9q.png R8JGP9q.png NOTABLE RELATIONS 17143246.png Mauerfuchs - Radomir's father, a secret keeper among his clan. Radomir's relationship with his father is easy enough, and he sought his blessing before leaving the clan to seek his fortune. He learned much in the way of prudence from him. 416652.png Berghexe - Radomir's mother, a hedgewitch. He remembers being well-disposed towards her and seeking her approval frequently. It is she who taught Radomir to track and to watch, to not show his hand, and to keep his face as blank as new-fallen snow. 18752261.png Thorns - Radomir's mate, a bogsneak known for her sullenness, though he will tell any who listen that it is not without cause. He will never say what the cause is, only that she is not that way out of spite. He is devoted to her, though they are rarely seen in public together. He has his friends, and she has hers. acorn_30b.png TRIVIA - Known to get into storytelling competitions when he's been drinking - He claims to have once been given piping lessons from Windsinger himself. Many wonder how bad he must have been before such lessons, because he's really not that great. - He cultivates other's low opinions of himself. Copperlight knows his measure, and he figures that's all that matters. APPEARANCE NOTES - He is probably the most simple, honest-looking skydancer many have met. He intentionally keeps his face as wide-eyed and empty-looking as possible when meeting others. GOALS - Get better at piping R8JGP9q.png Backstory He travelled carefully, keeping a nose to the wind and an eye on the skies. Original lore by Amut / 10642 ; Rewrite & Edits by ixris / 26035 When Radomir was young, he was a tundra named Tairin. He learned much of what a tundra needed to learn from his parents, a secret-keeper and a hedgewitch. He learned tracking and stealth, and he learned to use his enormous jaws and claws to defend himself. He learned to read the scents carried in the wind, and more than anything he learned to pretend he was less than he really was. Tundras, it seemed, were underestimated by many. In a clan like the Lair at the Eye of the Storm, which put an emphasis on being able to fight, tundras were often underestimated. And Radomir accepted this as a fact of life. When he was a bit older, he left his family, content to follow the breezes where they would lead him. And though now and again on the wind, he would sniff something that reminded him of home, he decided not to return. He knew that the had his own story to carve out. He took work guarding pilgrims on their way to offer their services to Windsinger, and for a long time proved the worth of a tundra to such an endeavor. But in time, he grew bored of this task, and he used his savings to change his shape into one of his god's chosen breeds - a skydancer. Not as graceful as those naturally born to the shape, but twice as savvy for recognizing many of the scents that were constantly carried on the breeze, he changed his name when he changed his form, and afterwards was known only as Radomir. Seeking to bring joy to those around him, Radomir learned to play various instruments, though he was never very good. He took great delight in pipes more than any other, and he learned to play at least well enough that he wasn't a strain on his intended audience. Afterwards, he yearned to see what the rest of the world was like. He headed to the Southern Ice Fields to see ancestral tundras and how they lived. He ventured through the Ashfall Wastes, learning to recognize various forging techniques on sight, though he was never very good at forging himself. He found himself fascinated by various seeds and burrs in the lands of Nature, riddles in the land of Shadow, and all manner of things in the other flights. Eventually, he made his way to the Isle of Prufrock, out in the Arcane territories. And it was there, speaking to a shopkeep about his dyemaking process, that Radomir decided where, exactly, he would wind up studying pigments and soils. He travelled carefully, keeping a nose to the wind and an eye on the skies. Eventually, he made it to the north of Dragonhome, and with luck stumbled upon his destination - Oakrest, the Citadel above the Cairns. Radomir was fascinated by the industrious nature of the quiet clan. Each craftsdragon appeared to be well-absorbed within their tasks. There were dyemakers and weaponsmiths, orchardkeepers and scribes. It was a tidy community of dragons, but they seemed quite defenseless. Surely, Radomir had met Blackshore, the Guardian of the Stones, but there was only so much one guardian could do to keep a clan safe. He stayed, and he studied, but he also worried. These were good dragons, but they seemed so exposed. He tried to keep out of it, to concentrate on his studies. And for a while, he succeeded, learning one smear of pigment from another. But then, the troubles in Oakrest began. Under the Wild Oaks Radomir knew that those who stayed were not the stoutest of fighters... After the evacuation to the wild oaks, Radomir watched many of the Oakrest dragons take their leave. Many of them were used to lives of security or at least shelter, and the wild oaks provided little of either. Radomir knew that those who stayed were not the stoutest of fighters - some craftsdragons, an ancient guardian, and a nosy bogsneak were pretty much all they could count on should something happen. So Radomir took it upon himself to keep an eye on things. Oh, certainly Blackshore was watching the box canyons below, but it was Radomir who first spied the Bleachbone Horde move in below. And it was he who constructed the manner in which the refugees would stay safe from the raiders. And while Blackshore would be their swordarm, it was Radomir who would remain their eyes until they could safey return to the stones.[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=881885] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/8819/881885.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Butternut #881885] Butternut handles the clan's religious affairs and tends to the lair shrine. She conducts naming ceremonies, blesses the dead and conducts the appropriate religious ceremonials on holy days. Also in charge of the exalting of dragons to Earthshaker, a duty she takes very seriously. Butternut is very devoted to Earthshaker; so devoted in fact, that she has sent all her children to serve under him. If Earthshaker was the type of god to go around smiting the unbelievers with his holy army, Butternut would be marching in the front lines. For now she settles for aggressively pushing pamphlets about the greatness of Earthshaker onto unsuspecting passers-by. Disapproves of the clan's retreat from their old lair, Butternut is of the opinion that they should go back and fight for their ancestral lands. She hasn't adapted to life beneath the waves very well, as she feels cut off from her deity, her connection to Earthshaker severed along with the ties they had to their home in Earth. Butternut prefers to keep to the deepest tunnels of the new lair, where she has rebuilt the shrine of Earthshaker to the best of her ability. She misses home. 4diUpK0.png by Froster From the CR with Akal: She is all ready and packed! The filigree is a parting gift from Topsoil, and the books are Bloodcircle's. The collection of stone reliefs depicting great heroic acts of Earthshaker's devotees is Butternut's own. We'll miss her terribly, but wish her well! - Is so happy to return to Dragonhome, though she misses all her friends and family from Clan BOULDERSMASHER. - Is Bordeaux & Chandra's Great-granddaughter through Vinetheign. Is Copperlight's niece & Sangue's cousin. - Stone-touched, direct line through Moonwatch. - Traveled with Copperlight to the Pillar of the World after Chandra found the old tunnels that led there - Works in concert with Copper to ensure that Oakrest remains spiritually grounded (pun perhaps intended) - After the tunnels were sealed, worked with Copper and the others trapped within to ensure that they found enough food & supplies to keep going, and also that in the darkest moments beneath the earth, that they all knew a single flame would let them all shine like crystals in the sun[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33137263] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/331373/33137263.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Titus #33137263] Titus grew up in Maserift, raised by the graceful Munya and the powerful Midas. Though his father was a mage, Titus lacked the inner spark necessary to grant him any exceptional ability. His mother, a dancer, was also a fighter. She had seen bleak times in her youth, and she insisted that her children be taught to defend themselves. Titus, like his siblings, was trained from a young age to fight. But it's hard to teach a rock to fly, and it became swiftly obvious that Titus would much prefer to spend time foraging for the clan's cooks and exploring the cliffs and aeries around their home than he would learning to handle a blade. He had no finesse, and his footwork was awkward. His heart simply wasn't in it. It took many years before he was 'good enough' and released from training, and he was glad. While his family took to magic and steel, Titus took a shine to poetry and song. He dreamed of stardom and fame, of a life among the elite on the Cloudsong. And though his family shook their heads and rolled their eyes, they were supportive of him and listened to his poetry, no matter how terrible. (It was quite terrible.) He continued foraging for the kitchens. He knew the best places to gather wild herbs for soups and roasts, things which did badly in a cultivated field. One day during his foraging trips, he heard strange music. Fascinated by the rhythms, he drew nearer and found a lovely dancer. The way the dancer moved reminded him somewhat of his mother, for he had seen her dance at celebrations of all stripes. This dancer seemed alone, and Titus drew nearer only to find a knife at his throat. They were cut-purses and slavers, and Titus had his mother's bearing and both parents' good looks. They spoke of the profit they would turn, the softness of his arms, and the way he looked now that he was frightened. But Titus had been raised on tales from the women in his family. His aunt, his grandmother, his own mother had horrible things to say of slavers like these. The first chance he got, Titus fought back. He could not explain how he got the knife or how exactly it had killed the dragon nearest. He knew that he had used what earth magic he had to try to shield himself. He knew, ultimately, that he thought for certain he would die. The slavers left him in the sun, calling him more trouble than he was worth. They ruined his legs so badly he blacked out from the pain. They cut out his left eye, and they would have taken the other as well if they had not been scared off by a big guardian of the desert. It was the guardian, Amotesh, who nursed Titus back to health. She saved the parts of his legs she could and amputated the rest. She stood by him until he could move independently. He couldn't fly, and he was very weak, but he could sit up and use his hands. His wings were mangled and his tail was deeply bruised. Amotesh did what she could to nurse him back to health. Titus hoped, when he wept himself to sleep at night, that it would be enough. Getting used to what must become normal was extremely difficult. Amotesh eventually returned Titus to Maserift. He was grateful to her, but he did not expect to see her again. That could be said of those who lived in Maserift as well. Titus had thought he was as good as dead. But while he wept to see his parents again, he felt more stricken by his assault than he had when he was recovering with Amotesh. The normalcy, the expected routine made the trauma all the more straining. The clan healers looked at his wings and his tail and his eye. They did what they could for him. His face was disfigured, and they did their best to reconstruct it. They replaced his missing eye with a large white marble. It helped his face keep its shape, but it was uncomfortable to wear for long stretches. Titus often went without. Then, the healers looked at his stumps. There was no sugar-coating it. He would not walk again. He would not dance. Even flight would be difficult, as an intial lift-off would be difficult without legs. Titus fell into a black mood. And while the therapists of Maserift did everything they could, Titus' bleak outlook would not lift. Sullenly, he watched his mother's anger build towards those who had harmed him. But he was exhausted and empty, and he could not find a voice to echo or dissent from her opinions. As he recovered, he was encouraged to move as much as possible. He frequently fell, and his stumps rubbed raw against the floor. But he became more and more adept at moving his whole body with just his arms and tail. Sometimes he could be found napping in the library or caught on balconies far from his quarters with no energy to return. "At least the sunrise was nice," he would say whenever he was found by a surprised clanmate in the morning. He took abysmal care of himself, and he no longer wrote poetry or songs. He took to pensiveness and brooding, and anyone who showed him pity received a solid rebuke, no matter who it was. He won no friends. While his body was recovering, his spirit was not. He had many black days. Even the clan's earth spirits were unlikely to aid him, as he had lashed out at even them. During this time, Maserift's healers attempted to help him. But while some magical progress in the clan was swift, the great potential for damage stayed the healers hands. There was so much that could go wrong if even a tiny variable went awry. Titus hated these sessions with the healers who, for all their aptitude and wells of magic, could not wave their fingers and make him an inch more whole. Instead, Titus did his best to develop the strength he needed to haul himself physically through Maserift. Its shifting spaces bore him no end of troubles. But he become a little stronger every day. Eventually, he was no longer found on the balconies at dawn, frozen from the night beneath the stars. Instead, he could make it back at least to a common room and sleep by a hearth, the spirits' affection for his parents staying their hands from some nasty tricks. But while Titus may have recovered fine in Maserift, he still felt the pity everyone had learned to keep bottled. And he wanted to lash out again and again for the things others felt in his direction. He could take it no more. He began to search for a way to leave. It took months of research regarding the clans near Maserift. And for a time, if Titus mentioned it, someone would look wide-eyed and tell him not to think like that, that he would always have a home there. But for a dragon with little magical aptitude and even less ability for combat, Titus saw few opportunities to be useful. Besides, his wings had healed, and he had taken to climbing high enough to catch an updraft in order to practice flying again. He felt like a hatchling again, but Titus knew he needed to be able to travel a long distance, no matter where he was going. And he wouldn't be able to do it on the ground. He became better and better at launching himself from these pinnacles, and in time he felt confident that even if he had to stop and rest, he would be able to make a long flight. He was toying with the thought of traveling to the Starfall Isles to see if there was someone there who could help him. He wondered if he would be able to make it there alone. When his family learned of his secret flights, at first they were livid. His mother did not want to hear of him harmed again, or worse - dead. His father was no more pleased than she, and for a time the two confined Titus to interior spaces. Shut within the clan's corridors, Titus took to speaking with travelers and those who didn't know his reputation for sharpness. And this was how he learned of a clan far to the North, past the Pillar and settled in with the ancient tombs of Cairnstone, that housed the most graceful dancer who moved with all the fluidity of flight but never left the ground. Titus thought immediately of his mother, who had spoken once of her teacher whose bound wings did not stop them from leaps and twirls that amazed and delighted. And for a time, Titus fell in love. Not so much with the dragon on the other end of these tales, but with the idea of dancing without wings. If one could dance without wings, could one dance without legs? He asked his mother, and she gave him a sad smile and a line that he could do whatever he put his mind to. In his head, Titus rattled off the things he had been forbidden. Flight. Walking as he used to. Seeing with both eyes. Being found attractive. His dreams of fame. The day's breeze through his fur. He packed his bags that night. He would head north, try to find this clan with this dancer. If he had to break out of Maserift to get there, he would. He climbed the staircases to the balconies, intent on jumping out a window if he had to. Instead, he found his father there. "If you intend to leave, let me escort you, ensure you can find the place you mean to be. Don't go just to leave. Go because you have found a place." "Mother will be sore," Titus said softly. But his father smiled. "Mother asked me to go. The trip, she fears, is too much for her - the North brings bad memories for her. Or else she would have come herself." Titus let his father go through his belongings, then waited while he fetched more supplies. Then, under a high bright moon, the two left Maserift, heading for the North. Rumors of the dancer had spread, but very few dragons knew exactly where they could be found. After weeks of searching, the only leads brought them to a place called Oakrest. The clan was cold, assessing, and silent. Titus' father stared at him when the dragons did not invite them in, but merely stated that lodging could be found if it was needed. There was no hospitality here. But neither was there hostility. Once within the corridors, Titus found the dragons who spoke with them cordial and kind-hearted, but used to keeping strangers at tail's reach. They told him that he was in time to see the Greenskeeper performance if he wished to stay, that the rains would come this month and bring a bloom to the high desert, and that he was really better off remaining until the storms passed. Titus agreed to stay at least that long, and he marveled that none of the dragons here gave his amputations more than a cursory glance. It was astounding how much weight it took off Titus' shoulders. These strange inhospitable dragons took his troubles in stride, and if someone seemed to always know where he was, at least they didn't look on him as if he were broken. A few days later, the Greenskeeper performance was announced. Titus and his father attended, hearing poetry from a majestic imperial and song from a coatl with a voice that resonated in Titus' chest. And then, the dancer. There were no words for this dancer. They moved exquisitely, using their body to tell a story that stung Titus in his heart. They leapt and jumped, but never flew, turning flips and hurling themself across the stage recklessly, landing with thuds and creaks of the boards below. Titus was in love again. Not with the dancer, but with the dance. Later, he learned the dancer's name was Nibiru, the same who taught his mother the art which led her to freedom. And amid the crush who sought audience with them afterwards, it was Titus whose face they saw. "I did not know she had a son," they said. Later, they sent for him over dinner. They listened to his story, nodding over laced fingers. They regarded him with eyes like embers, their face dispassionate. He asked them then begged them to teach him to dance. "I am fire," they said. "I dance as fire. Your mother I taught also to dance as fire, though she is to say whether she is or not. You are not fire. I can not teach you to dance as fire." Titus felt his heart sink. "Then I am hopeless." Nibiru scoffed. "There are more pieces of this world than fire. Just because you cannot learn to be that which you are not does not mean you are hopeless. Is the bee who cannot swim hopeless? Only if it finds itself beneath the lake. Do not try to burn, and you are never without hope." Nibiru then asked to see how Titus moved. They put him through various drills to assess his strength and mobility, nodding silently to themself the entire time. At the end, they said, "It will be difficult, but it is not impossible. I need time to learn to dance as earth so that I may teach you to dance as earth. Stay if you wish, or return again in a season. By then I will be ready for you." Nibiru is SO CONFUSED. D: (actually they are SO FREAKING DELIGHTED) - was set upon by a collective of slavers - fought them off for all he was worth, but is no great fighter (left home before he could learn too much) - lost his eye and his legs, and was left for dead - was found by (insert archetype here) before he could bleed out, and when he was safely out of the way of shock / horror / etc, tried to make a plan - returned home, but (no one knew what to do with him? EULERIAN HELP!!) - for a long time, every day was arm day, since his wings were also too damaged to fly (but will recover) - decided to head north to see if mom's teacher, that weirdo dancer, was still around or something, because wow he was getting nothing done, and if the teacher taught mom how to move, maybe they would teach him something he could use?? balance??? uhh??? - found Nibiru in Oakrest, and begged to become their student. They were very "well this is a challenge isn't it?" AND CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. - learned to dance with arms and wings and tail - KID DOES ALRIGHT. - was later fitted for prosthetics by Patina - needed a lot of learning curve to be alright at that - mostly uses them for long periods of walking / standing, but for around the lair sorts of things and dancing prefers to do so with his stumps. - has taken on a duty as a counselor, but dances during festivals / big celebrations. [/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=9408340] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/94084/9408340.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Evergreen #9408340] Evergreen Brawler Getting it done with a little flash "Please. Let a professional handle this." Spunky, bright, and a bit of a show-off, Evergreen enjoys a good row more than anything. He's traveled to the far reaches of Sornieth and back again, and is completely willing to escort whoever needing whatever taken wherever. He's usually the special envoy from this patch of Dragonhome to the Wild Orchard Clan, since so much of his family is over there, too. He's got a soft-spot for his parents, and he seems a kinder, gentler, less ambitious person away when he's looking at his father's sculptures or his mother's fish. It's a nice place to visit, and the people seem alright if a bit on-edge about lots of things. But let's be honest - over there, there's just too many trees. Evergreen gets a kick from sometimes just sitting and staring off across the flattened expanse that is his home territory. He likes being able to hear the echo of every stone in that might fall in Greatwyrm's Breach. And have you ever heard the wind come howling through the Shattered Plain? He heartily recommends it. He may be from a nature clan, but in his heart of hearts, Evergreen is an earth dragon: he values his family above his pride, and he can tell you the exploits of those who came before him backwards and forwards. He just also enjoys a good tussle now and then, too. (Very unlikely to be bred)[/quote]