Creative Corner

I DON'T TRUST YOU WITH MY HEART ANYMORE

BUT HOW ARE YOU PICKING THESE?!?!?!

I'M PICKING EVERYBODY WITH LORE WHO I REMEMBER BEING THERE FOR LONGER THAN A MONTH

*CRACK UP ROLL AWAY*

oh man oh man oh man oh man

Is THAT who you think you need to protect??? Eulerian. My friend.

Do you forget how fickle I can be??

@ixris That's why I said "everybody". I'm not done yet

Eulerian, do you know the reason I initially got all invested in giving her feedback and being all involved in her writing like... ten years ago, was just so I could convince her not to kill off characters I didn't think deserved it? XD

Everyone deserves to die. :|

[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=30165810] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/301659/30165810.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Nibiru #30165810] Birth Clan - An unknown Lightning clan Element - Fire Gender - Bigender Pronouns - They / Them Orientation - Androromantic Goes by - Nibiru Those who visit Oakrest during festivals know Nibiru as the dancer. They dance very well, often taking on the mentality of a flickering flame while they perform in order to execute terrifying leaps and twists and flicks of movement that others may not have the heart to attempt. While they perform, they are consumed with passion, fury, warmth, wrath, and fear. They exhibit everything about their birth element as flawlessly as they are able to, attempting to convince their audience that they have transcended flesh. But afterwards, the flesh catches up with them again. Grounded in bones, sinew, and scales, Nibiru is close-lipped and cold to many. Afraid of being cast out for being useless, they enshroud themselves in silence and the dimness of their lair. Once the fabled dancer of the Bleachbone Horde, they have tried to relinquish that life as much as they may, but dancing is something they can not give up, because dancing is what has given their life purpose. After a long search for a way to repay the dragons of Oakrest for sheltering them after their escape from the Horde, Nibiru learned that they have a propensity for anatomy that they had not realized. Part of what makes them such an able teacher for young dancers is their understanding of range of motion and the limits of a physical body, and further - how to push those limits. While they enjoy teaching dance to eager young ones, what Nibiru does best with their knowledge of draconic form is apply and release pressures on joints and aching bodies to restore strength and health to their clients. They are known best for their warm little clinic where they administer acupuncture treatments and deep tissue massages, as well as for their large open practice space where they lead their ailing clients through stretches and strength-building exercises to return what mobility has been lost. They are an integral part of Oakrest's healers, and many Hunters would have been sidelined permanently without their ministrations. "..." Physical Therapist Helps repair range of motion to damaged joints, tendons, and ligaments STATS STR ?????????? DEX ?????????? CON ?????????? INT ?????????? WIS ?????????? CHA ?????????? R8JGP9q.png R8JGP9q.png NOTABLE RELATIONS 31960163.png Munya - A former member of the Bleachbone Horde, Nibiru was tasked with teaching Munya to dance as they danced, to please a future master of her own. The two were close and shared many secrets, but the relationship was also distant, like between an aunt or uncle and their niece. Both knew that the life Munya was being groomed for was an awful life, and neither made any pretenses otherwise. She was a gifted dancer, and she sang beautifully - a skill which Nibiru does not share. Nibiru steeled their heart the day Munya was taken to be sold to a new clan. They wanted badly to weep for the horrors that would likely befall young Munya in her new home, and they hated themself for assisting in the continuation of the cycle which had destroyed their own life. 33137263.png Titus - Munya's son, he came to Oakrest after a violent attack by slavers severely disfigured his body and caused him to lose his back legs. Angry and depressed, he could find no comfort in his home lair. Instead, he was driven to find Nibiru and ask them to teach him to dance in an effort to strengthen his body and his spirit and restore a hint of quality to his life. The two respect each other deeply, and after many months of therapy, sweat, pain, and mistakes, Titus is now one of Oakrest's dancers. While Nibiru dances as fire, Titus dances as earth, and both put on shows worth seeing every festival. They have a deep friendship, and it is strictly platonic. 27769983.png Oddity - Oakrest's chief surgeon and diagnostician, those who are sick come to him for advice and medicines to recover more quickly. While he is often the one recommending others see Nibiru for more advanced healing, they two also share a patient / doctor relationship that has developed into a deep friendship. Odd's general compassion and insistence that others take care of themselves has caused him to go out on a limb for Nibiru more times than he can count. Nibiru is playfully teasing with the doctor on their good days, and is grateful of the safe spaces he offers on their bad ones. Nibiru sees Oddity regularly for help with their anxiety and depression. They fear they are more broken than even he can heal. acorn_30b.png TRIVIA - They are fond of toads and lizards, often referring to them as 'cute.' - Their favorite foods involve strawberries. APPEARANCE NOTES - They are extremely androgynous in appearance, expressing neither a strong male or female presence. - In their daily life, they wear voluminous shirts and trousers, allowing for them to be fully covered and still show a full range of motion in their limbs should it be necessary. - All of their clothing has pieces that clatter or chime as they move. Little tassels, beadwork, tiny bells, and clattering bangle bracelets are just some of the items among their accessories. - When they dance, they wear clothing that moves and billows with them in colors that accentuate their dance style as reminiscent of flames. GOALS - Have more good days than bad - Choreograph a beautiful routine for the next festival (and the one after that) - Get that knot out of Torch's neck - it's a doozy! R8JGP9q.png Pyre And to their dismay, when he returned a third time, they realized this poor fool was smitten. xxxxxx Quote: Content warning: Some readers may find this lore piece ("Pyre") upsetting or triggering. To my knowledge, it abides by site content policy, but I know that even cleaned up pieces can sometimes be harmful to others. Please feel free to leave and know you are not missing anything important. You may PM me for a safe summary if you are very curious. xxxxxx It took a long time for Nibiru to trust. There was no holding pattern for fire. Fire burned, and it consumed, and sometimes it lay in wait for the perfect circumstances to rage again. But it didn't trust. Nibiru, who was fire in their heart, trusted life as fire - this part may burn, but that part would only bend or char. There were things they could depend on, which was not the same thing. They could depend on the sun rising and setting. They could depend on their bound wings carrying no breeze. They could depend on hot meals when they behaved, no meals when they did not. And Nibiru could depend on Amador's callous disregard for others. They hated him. They hated him more deeply than they had ever known a reason to hate. It was not only what he had done to others. It was what he had done to Nibiru that was the root. It may have been a long time ago, before the others joined the Horde. It was not long enough ago for Nibiru to forget. Now, Nibiru pretended he was not there. They danced instead for Damask or Kennen or Falx. They danced for the others. And if the Captain took notice, they carefully spat in his face just enough to draw amusement from the onlookers, but not enough to draw Amador's ire. Usually. Things had been fine for a while. They were not perfect. Nothing was perfect. Bound wings and canny guards kept Nibiru where they were, even as their heart flickered candlelight at the thoughts of elsewhere, elsewhen, elsebody. But then the Captain moved them to this godless canyon and told the others to dig. And when he came to watch them dance or called for their entertainment among the rabble's feasts, Nibiru saw the change in his eyes. They had not thought he could be worse. They were wrong. They watched him send children he claimed as his own into the black tunnels while above a singer canted clear as the sky. They listened outside his tent as he spoke softly to his mates of the treasures he longed to find within the hills. They knew the bloodlust may abate for now, but they worried what would happen if the treasure was not there. It was outside the Captain's tent that one of the guards caught them eavesdropping. And it was so easy to play the woman and let him chide her and return her to her tent, clapping the irons around her ankles until morning. Later, they were surprised when the guard returned, so Nibiru played the man, distant and aloof and coarse. And to their dismay, when he returned a third time, they realized this poor fool was smitten. The fool's name was Vaan. He was friendly and kind, and he'd signed on to the Horde for adventure and excitement that couldn't be found among the scholars of his home. And though Nibiru didn't understand if they loved him or not, sometimes their heart raced just to see him smile. And at night, they danced for him. /// Perhaps it was foolish. Perhaps trusting Vaan, letting him close was wrong. But it had been so long since Nibiru felt like there was a purpose to their existence beyond dancing. And it was only to feel the stretch of muscles that they danced every night. There was no feeling to their life beyond pain, and these small, comfortable aches were better than the big ones that came if they faltered. But it wasn't pain they felt around Vaan. It was warmth, a glow like at the edge of the hearth. A glow fire gave that filled a whole room slowly and steadily. When they were alone, they could admit they were afraid of it. It turned their stomach and made them want to be ill. When they were with him, they only wanted more. They were afraid to lose it. They weren't certain how the thought had come up, who had suggested it or why, but someone had mentioned a nest. Nibiru thought of the young dancer Amador had them train, one of Tanwar's children. There was much poison there, between Amador and Tanwar and the rest of the Horde, but Nibiru did their best to shield young Munya from it. And while there was no paternal bond between them and Munya, Nibiru had enjoyed the young dancer's company. Had relished in teaching her the arts to which they were devoted. Nibiru and Vaan dug the nest together outside the usual patrols. They found a sunny spot, sheltered from the wind, and rimmed it with round stones and filled it with soft sand. And for a week, they visited together before a pair of eggs could fill it. They marveled over their children, so fragile and full of promise. And they marveled over Vaan's touch, his eagerness and his tenderness. They marveled over the warmth. And they realized: they were only sick with the thought of losing it. For their own fire was not enough to drive off the cold that cloaked them. /// Things got worse after Tanwar's children were attacked in the tunnels. Nibiru watched, impotent, as the Captain ordered digging to start again, regardless of how many earth dragons were among them. All of them dug, bending their backs and breaking their bones. All except Amador's elite. And Nibiru. They thought, constantly, of their two unborn children. They worried that if Amador found them, they too would be forced to dig. They knew there was no hope to raise them as their own, only that they would be snatched up and worked until they died. At night, they wept in Vaan's arms, glad for the way he put his fingers through their hair. Glad for the way he didn't judge their fears. Glad for the way he listened, though neither of them could find a way to solve it. In the days, Nibiru practiced and Amador watched. He took lunch in the tent while they bent and twisted, pretending he wasn't there. They thought of perfecting each leap, each pattern of footwork, moving only and exactly as they had planned to move. As he slurped, though, it became harder to concentrate, and at length they paused to catch their breath. "You're killing us," they told him frankly. "You're killing them. We'll all die here. Whatever was in the tunnels after the children, it will surely come after us as well." The Captain leered at them, and they let their heart be fire, let their mind go blank of the rage that filled them when he looked that way. They were afraid, but they would not let him see their fear. He laughed, then sucked the sauces from his fingers. "I didn't know you were a comedian when the others weren't about," he said. "I thought you only threw water in my face to get a laugh from the rabble." He cast about. "I see no rabble here. Watch your tongue." He picked up a goblet and chased his food with drink, then gestured towards them. "Well?" he asked. "I came to see you dance. So dance." Nibiru stared at him for another moment, letting it draw to tension before they turned away. They leapt and writhed, and they tried not to look at the Captain as he slurped and sucked and chortled. They succeeded only by thinking of the knife that took his eye and how it would feel to whet it once again. Then, the Captain was finished his lunch, and he called for the servants to clear it. As they busied themselves with clearing the remains of the small feast, Amador drew close to Nibiru and hooked his clawed ring beneath their jaw. He stank of myrrh. "I would behave if I were you. Those eggs of yours are due to hatch, aren't they? Any day now? I would hate for something to happen to them." Nibiru felt a sharp pain in their chest. How did he know? The inferno swelled within them. "Of course," they said, their stomach filling with stones, but doing everything they could to keep their voice still. "Why would I do anything but?" "No mention of this 'killing' tonight, hmm?" "No," they agreed. They thought of the whetstone again. They thought of his blood. "Good." He patted them on the cheek, then turned to leave. And as he was nearly at the door, they called his name coyly. He turned, and they tried to look vulnerable. "With Tanwar in such a foul mood," they said, "perhaps you'd like other company tonight? It is his turn, isn't it?" Amador looked them over for a long moment, appraising. Then, he laughed. "I didn't know you knew a joke to tickle even me," he said. "Do not think me as stupid as your guard." He tapped his stricken eye, then let the curtain fall behind him. /// They had taken the knife from the smith. It wasn't truly a knife, but it was sharp and had a bound handle, and it would certainly cut and kill. Neither Falx nor Nibiru said a word during the exchange. Nibiru kept it on their person, lest the Captain change his mind about their offer. At night, during revelry, they danced. Vaan was gone from the crowd, but that was not unusual. Several times, Nibiru danced for the Captain, but he would turn and exchange a laugh with Tanwar to ignore them. They tried to keep their wits about them, even though they were afraid. Their children filled their mind. Rage and grief and fear swelled again and again into their chest. They tried to concentrate on dancing. After the evening's feasts, when only the guards prowled the camp, Nibiru slipped away. They had made it to the Captain's tent before, and they did so again. The soft susurration of Tanwar and Amador within gave them pause. They had hoped they had waited long enough they were asleep. A miscalculation. For a moment, they hesitated. They had counted only on Amador's life. But Tanwar was no better than the Captain, and his arrogance would not be missed. Especially now that Kindra was gone. Nibiru cut the tent a new flap, softly and quickly, and stepped inside. Their heart hammered in their chest, the knife in their hand. The pair was silent, then the sudden sound of movement before them let them know they had been found. "Guards!" Tanwar yelped, and Nibiru brought fire to their hands. They flung it at Tanwar, then lunged towards the Captain, knife low and ready to kill. Though Nibiru had always been quicker, the Captain had always been stronger. Nibiru found they had only one chance, and they plunged the blade deep into his belly before he backhanded them across the tent. Nibiru brought fire to the silk, letting it burn with acrid smoke, before they bolted from the enclosure the same way they had arrived. They ran through the camp, flickering flame in their wake. Let the soldiers wonder if they should give chase or save the camp. It bought them time. It bought them enough time. They reached the nest, vainly trying to free their weakened wings so they could fly free with their children. Their was neither time nor strength, so they would have to climb. Below, the guards were widening the search, and Nibiru knew it was only time before they would be found and their eggs either broken or left to hatch as slaves. They gathered the pair in a sack they had left here earlier, then started away. Only to stop when Vaan called their name. They turned, shaking. He was alone. And he drew them close - Nibiru and their eggs. They imagined they could feel the heartbeats within. "Why?" he asked. Nibiru shook their head. "There isn't time." They drew away. "We're leaving," they said, their voice breaking. "Come with us." He looked back at the small inferno, even now being brought under control. "If he catches any of us, he'll kill us," Nibiru insisted. "But I have served well," Vaan said. He sounded almost proud, the fool. "I trust him to see through this." "You trust a viper not to kill you," they spat. "I know someone who might save us. We have to move quickly." Vaan shook his head. "Be safe," he told them, turning away. "I'll tell them you went the other way." Nibiru felt the warmth in their heart go cold. "Please," they said, their voice breaking, their fingers wringing through the sack that held their children. He looked back. In the dark, it was impossible to read his face. Nibiru hoped it was regret. Or bravery. "I'll do what I can." And he headed down the mountain to rejoin the search. Nibiru glanced to the canyon below and saw there wasn't time to argue. They scrabbled up the cliffs, their eggs clutched close. As they reached the lip of the cliff, they hoped the guards would lose the pursuit before Nibiru found the place the big guardian patrolled and the Horde dared not approach. Kindling And then they saw the youth's legs, and they knew he was not here for vengeance. It was strange, settling in to a routine of their own choosing. Nibiru was used to their schedule being dictated by the whims of another, and this realization of their liberty was thrilling and terrifying. Those who had lived here before, these 'Oakrest' dragons, they were overjoyed to see their homes restored, no matter how banged up and beaten down. They fell into a pattern, a rhythm that Nibiru had not truly seen before - productive for the sake of productivity, doing things because they needed to be done, not because some overseer demanded it. They, like always, were aloof. Fire burns and blisters, chars and melts. Draw too near to fire and feel the singe. But they also had nowhere else to go. Certainly, they could have joined a caravan to the south. But what purpose would that have served? They would have been adrift among strangers, rather than adrift among those who had earned their respect and trust. They listened in silence as those who chased down the undead and unrestful spirits, those who called themselves Hunters, told and retold tales of harrowing and horrors, tales of things that Should Not Be that were left to roam the Citadel halls until they could rout them once more. They watched as dragons marked off unsafe passageways and warrens and repaired them with dexterous assurance. They watched whole areas left condemned be lifted out of ruin and made safe once more. They watched the gravetender, Sangue, tend his Charges with all the love and care of a parent for sleeping children. And they knew that they had nothing to give these dragons who had offered them shelter and a shield when they had needed it most. Their skills were so few. They had known to dance to please one, and that one was gone - and good riddance. But it left them bitterly aware that there was nothing they could offer anyone from their own abilities that would not echo back to Amador. There was no portion of their life they could call their own. Even these dragons with whom they had fallen in, Nibiru would not have known them had it not been for Amador's greed. For a time, Nibiru worked with Sassafras, more out of familiarity than anything else. The two had a working relationship, but perfuming and aromatherapy was of so little interest to the dancer. They attended their duties with little passion, though they were grateful of the work. It was nice to do something with their hands, though they did not have the eye for perfect leaves or flowers that Sassafras demanded. Likewise, though they had been adept at darning and salvaging scraps to make costumes for nights of revelry among the Horde, Nibiru was no good at constructing fabrics or clothing, jewels or other pretty things. For a fire dragon, they thought bitterly watching the others work, there was blessed little they could make. It was not until the Greenskeeper Gathering that Nibiru gained an insight to their calling. Certainly they could dance, and they would have to be cold and dead to pry that from their claws, but they wanted more. They wanted an everyday life with purpose, not one of pity. Not one of endless remembrances of heartache and misery. They danced at Greenskeeper, and they were flame again - flickering and jolting across the stage, captivating and warming hearts and hands alike, their body dripping sweat as chalk shook from their hands and joints with every leap and landing. And afterwards, the crowds thronged, cheering and gushing, and for a moment Nibiru felt overwhelmed. And then they saw him - young and guarded, and so like his mother. And for a moment, Nibiru felt certain he was here to call them out as a traitor or a cad. And then they saw the youth's legs, and they knew he was not here for vengeance. He came, as his mother had come. In the bleakest moment of his life, this child had come to learn to dance.[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=30572242] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/305723/30572242.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Ametrine #30572242] runecarver_icon_earth_by_irrwahn-d9feble.pngSubspecies: RuneCarver Subspecies info (by Irrwahn) A class filled with the arcane magic that brought the pillar to fall evolved around the scattered Pillar of the World. They use the debris from the former slabs and infuse them with life again – through carving runes into it, which resemble the elemental flights. Those dragons are called Runecarvers. Nature, Plague and Arcane Stones are the hardest to find. Runes are exceptionally hard to make and their supplies aren’t easy to find. They are filled with pure elemental energy and some can be used in combat. Charms and Fragments consist of simple symbols drawn on things like gems, jewelry or other objects. While not purely consisting of magical energy, the special paint made of pigments and dust from the Pillar can have a small but noticeable effect. Only worthy dragons can craft runes of the highest standard. The ability to carve such stones increases with the level of the fights it has won in the coliseum. That means a level 1 dragon can only produce runes of level 1. A freshly hatched Runecarver has to wait until adulthood, before he can start with the complicated and dangerous training. He doesn’t have to be bored though since he has to learn all the symbols, he will later need, by heart. It's a common sight, that Runecarvers gather around the pillar and collect stones with their familiars. That's why they mostly wear satchels to put all their findings in it. Glasses aren't a rare sight either. Many Runecarvers suffer from bad eyesight due to their tiring search on the ground. "Don't worry, honey. I'm sure it's just a phase." "IT'S NOT A PHASE MOM! I LOOK AMAZING! ... ... and now I am ready for A N Y T H I N G !" To those who first meet Ametrine, he may seem a bit ... much. Jocular and sarcastic, he is known for his sometimes cutting remarks to those who have to deal with him. He doesn't mean anything ill by it. His sense of humor is simply a bit harsh. Ametrine was hatched in Oakrest. His parents, a pair of Rune Carvers, visited shortly before the fall, seeking to understand how dragons without their special gifts were able to ward the undead enough to secure their clan. He remembers asking so many questions of everyone while he was there, but he ultimately returned to the Wild Orchard clan where he learned the skills of his heritage from his parents. Ametrine was not an especially talented Rune Carver. Knowing and learning all the runes was difficult for him, as he has attention difficulties. When he was early in his training, it was common for him to become distracted and leave a rune half-carved, often to potentially dangerous results. He considered not staying in the occupation at all, but he was drawn back time and again by the history of his heritage and the knowledge that perhaps his family would die with him. It was hard work and tenacity that saw him through the hardest parts of training. And as he worked to memorize the runes and their shapes, he found that eventually he could remember all of them. And, as he continued his training, found himself able to create new patterns, which further assisted his understanding of his heritage and his path. Ametrine has grown to quite enjoy his occupation, and he spends a lot of time around the Pillar to find the materials he needs for his work. Clans far and wide are known to solicit the assistance of Rune Carvers, and as Ametrine has practically mastered his craft, his story is no different. His mate, Mera, is his great delight and best friend. He enjoys her sense of humor and her sunny outlook on life. Though they are not often in the same place, it is important to both of them to remain in their childrens' lives as much as possible while they grow. [/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=30762872] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/307629/30762872.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Mera #30762872] Her parents often separated when the high summer winds blew through the Tsunami Flats, Mother heading inland and Father heading out to sea. But when they were together, Mera remembered them being a gentle family, and beautiful besides. Though her childhood was tepid, Mera grew into a strong dragon. And while she never received Visions like her older brother, Mera's own luck was astounding. She could bet on a pair of beetles and pick the winner. She was known to guess by a glance how a coin would land. And once, she outlucked a traveling trickster who had been conning the local females from the area. Equally adept at most things she puts her mind to, most assume she has lucked her way through life. Mera has chosen not to think about it, because the implications make her a bit nauseated. Instead, she is fun-loving and has an optimistic disposition. Most who know her know her smile, and her cheer. She is a mapmaker of sorts. While much of Dragonhome has been mapped over the years, she performs aerial surveys so that the locations of the wandering Longneck and Serthis clans are known. She has an eye for detail and a mind for puzzles, making her able to accurately guess the location of hidden beastclans by a few tracks and a bit of debris. With her maps, clans have been able to conduct safe trade without fear of raids and safe journeys to the Pillar. Her mate, Ametrine, is a close companion and confidant. Like her own parents, they spend much time apart - her on her work, him on his own. However, when they are together there is much laughter and storytelling, each one trying to out-do the other. They are well-matched, and though they have yet to settle fully in one place for too long, they have recently been spotted among the bluffs near Oakrest.[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=29286844] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/292869/29286844.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Lisabet #29286844] Birth Clan - Levantera Sanctuary Element - Wind Gender - Female Pronouns - She / Her Orientation - Androromantic Goes by - Lisabet, Lis Lisabet walks with the Hunters of Oakrest. Though she is not likely to brawl monsters or exorcise spirits, her archery is essential for clearing areas of more corporeal abominations. Phase spiders, cave jewels, bone priests, and the like fall with terrifying efficiency to her arrows, and another is notched ready to fly again. She has a reputation for exactitude that extends into her social realm. Lisabet's short temper and sharp tongue have lashed several close to her, and friendships are difficult for her to maintain. But her usefulness in the clan ensures her place, and Lisabet spends much time patrolling the upper levels of the tombs to ensure no monsters make their way into the Citadel. "Got you." Archer Wielder of bows, Hunter of monsters and beasts STATS STR ?????????? DEX ?????????? CON ?????????? INT ?????????? WIS ?????????? CHA ?????????? R8JGP9q.png R8JGP9q.png NOTABLE RELATIONS 29157041.png Azorella - Lisabet's mother, the leader of her birth clan. Lisabet often thinks of her mother and worries if she's alright. Aside from a letter she sent when she was younger, she has had no contact with her since she left the clan. She knows that her mother must feel very lonely, and she hopes she feels brave enough to contact her again soon. 30337340.png Bernard - Lisabet's mate, Bernard harvests silk from caterpillars and spiders and spins them into fabulous bolts of cloth. Extremely patient, he is an interesting match for Lisabet, who is sometimes impulsive. His warmth and tenderness provides a balance to her sharp and stormy times. acorn_30b.png TRIVIA - She is near-sighted, and despite being an excellent shot, she needs her glasses to be able to see her targets - Learned archery as a youth to earn her keep as a hunter while she traveled - Her arrows are fledged using feathers shed by her mate during molts APPEARANCE NOTES - She has a small gap in her front teeth - Her fingers are calloused and her arms well-muscled from years of working with her bows GOALS - Increase her accuracy - Accompany other Hunters even deeper into the tunnels - Contact her mother again R8JGP9q.png First letter home I've tread lightly and carefully, as you always taught us... Dear Mother, I wanted to let you and my sisters know that I have left for a grand adventure! I didn't want you to think I had followed Father's footsteps to serve the gods, and so I've sent you this note! I've wandered all the way to Dragonhome, all by myself! There was so much to see on my way, and the going was treacherous, especially on my way through the Ghostlight Ruins. But I've tread lightly and carefully, as you always taught us, and I've safely arrived in a clan that has agreed to allow me to stay! They said they were looking for a wind dragon just like me, and I knew you'd be glad to hear I was safely at my destination! I miss all of you terribly so, but I am excited for the next chapter of my life here with the Oakrest clan! They seem such nice dragons, and I am happy to lend a claw where I may. Give my love to Tarma and Polya, regardless of their choices to stay or leave, and know that you may always find me here or in your heart. Be well, Mother, and do not trouble yourself much about my departure. I will do my best to grow into a daughter you would be proud of! All my love, Lisabet [/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=8826242] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/88263/8826242.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Amund #8826242] - Quartermaster - Totally wishes you'd STOP BREAKING STUFF - But also knows where TERRIFYINGLY OBSCURE THINGS ARE!?!?!?! (how do you do that, sir!?) - Excellent at containing things that are too strong to be destroyed but also too dangerous to be left to roam around (WHY IS YOUR OFFICE FULL OF THAT STUFF?!) - FREAKING GORGEOUS. and probably knows it. yaay pretty boys. - Possibly with Lisabet Amund was hatched to an ice lair that soon took to the high seas. He grew up learning all that went into seamanship and trading. Though his parents had hoped that he would become a bosun's mate, Amund's strengths lay more in quartermastery. Tracking cargo and supplies and knowing where an item might be found if it was not in its assigned place were skills that he found intuitive. And so, he spent many years of his life working the seas with his family. However, eventually the choice was made to move to the Ashfall Waste. Amund was not worried about this move at first, but he soon learned that the pulsing heat of lava was something he could not abide. It dried out his eyes something fierce, and he felt quite out of sorts for long stretches. After much consultation with his family, Amund decided to leave the crew and seek his fortune elsewhere. His parents were saddened to see such a useful member of the crew leave, but they were also excited to see their eldest son strike out on his own. Amund traveled the seas for a while, joining crew after crew until he decided enough was enough. He could have returned to the icy lands of his birth, but he had seen so much of the world. He wanted so much more than the icy frontier had to offer. He came ashore in Dragonhome after meeting an imperial fisherdragon named Shearwater. The two talked ships and storms and seas for a long time before Shearwater suggested Amund take some time to visit the Oakrest citadel, if he were so inclined. It had been a long time since Amund went inland, but he was always up for an adventure. He learned two things about Dragonhome as he traveled to the citadel. First, the days were scorching hot, but not as bad as the Ashfall Waste. Second, that the nights were often cold enough to frost the sands. Fascinated, he toured the city proper. He had to admit that he was impressed by these backwater dragons' ability to carve out a life among the lifeless landscape. The sweeping brown of the Shattered Plain reminded him of the sweeping white of the Snowsquall Tundra after a blizzard. It was charmingly familiar, but it was also novel. It was not long after he arrived, however, that the clan's peace was greatly disrupted.[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=19073628] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/190737/19073628.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Setara #19073628] Setara is most often found working in the halls of the Citadel. Her graceful manner and her elegant appearance cause many to think she must be of especially high station. But she is nothing more than a simple exorcist, and she goes about the Citadel ensuring that no evil has taken root. She is remarkably calm for one of the Hunters. While many of her peers are full of wild energies, Setara holds a steady line. She does not often get too excited, and her often cynical tones take the wind out of the sails of many who might try to work with her. But her steadiness has made her quite welcome in the Citadel, and the craftsdragons of Oakrest favor her as a solver of the more paranormal problems they may encounter throughout their days. Setara's gifts lay in retrocognition. While many other water dragons may be able to see what will come, Setara has grown up able to tap into what had been. She is especially tuned to the spirits that roam Oakrest (though many deny their presence), and aims to help them cross over to a final rest as peacefully as possible. She also can sense the restless dead who have not been stirred to activity for a long time. Using this understanding, she often works to map out safe traveling routes, and is sometimes gone from the Citadel for months at a time to wander paths through Dragonhome and ensure what the scouts had deemed safe from Beastclans are also safe from potential supernatural hazards. Though her strongest skills do not lie in combat, Setara is a fierce fighter in her own right. When faced with malevolent spirits, Setara is quick and clever. She has a full Hunter's arsenal at her disposal, and she will end anything that aims to harm her clan. During her time in Oakrest, she has helped to quiet a malicious haunting in the library, so that Bo might be able to actually get some work done. And she has been one of the most crucial Hunters to sweep the Citadel when it has been evacuated. Setara does not often venture into the tunnels of Cairnstone Rest. Her particular sensitivities make such a network of ancient tombs overwhelming and overstimulating. More often, she views artifacts that have been recovered from the tombs under suspicion of being the source of a haunting, and she either negotiates the present spirit to a final rest, or she instructs others on the proper disposal of the item. In this way, she has overseen the destruction of phylacteries, mystical amulets, and cursed books aplenty. Her ultimate goal is to make the Citadel as safe a home as possible for those without the heart to Hunt. Her entire life is not consumed by Hunting, as many of the Cairnstone Hunters' are. Instead, she is known to enjoy swimming in the retaining ponds and heading to the coast to fish. She finds great pleasure in swooping over the waves and plucking fish from the sea. And such a time allows her to pay a visit to Shearwater, who enjoys her visits, which come laden with Citadel gossip for the lonely imperial. She also spends a lot of time in Bo's library. She is a voracious reader when she has the opportunity to read, and she loves novels of all kinds. Particularly, she enjoys coming-of-age stories for older hatchlings, as she feels one is never too old to enjoy a theme most accepted for youngsters. She also gets along remarkably well with Thorns. The two females are often found sitting silently over cups of tea, listening and observing. They communicate much with only a few looks and words, and Setara has often said that she trusts her life only to Torch, Thorns, and Copperlight, in that order. Setara's mate is Torch, the gruff and unrefined head of the Hunters. Though his reputation precedes him as an overbearing taskmaster lacking in couth, the two are fully devoted to each other. Their relationship is built on mutual respect and a common goal, but ultimately grew to a warm affection, and later to love. She finds great pleasure in Torch's ability to make her laugh, as she says it is an occurrence too rare in her life so far. And though they know that theirs may not be an enduring love, it is none the more passionate for that knowledge. Instead, their affection burns like a steady candle - constant and warm, but not the dangerous blaze of a bonfire, and possessing the understanding that it may at any moment be snuffed. setara-stygianform.png art by StygianForm (must find usernumbers) Setara was used to wandering the Citadel alone, listening for what little whispers and hints of deeper troubles she could find. But now, she was listening to one jade earring she had taken from Periwinkle after the apparition appeared in her lair. It was difficult to tune out all the sounds and feelings that swelled through the lair in favor of this one gossamer thread. She hoped it would be worth it. She listened to the earring for weeks, finally caving and taking lessons from Periwinkle on how to say some things in the old tongue. And while frequently the ancient words could be spoken without trouble, every now and again the temperature would drop and a small breeze would flit through the corridors. Setara took thorough note of the way things felt when she had stirred the spirit ever so briefly. And those moments made picking out the spirit's thread among the others in the Citadel much easier. She was able to track it, then. And if she could track it, she might be able to confront it. She was no stranger to the tombs, though the structure to some areas had become less stable since the seals had been lifted. She took Chandra with her as she delved deeply into the corridors, chasing an echo of what was becoming more and more legible as fear and confusion and loss. Once or twice, they caught sight of the spirit in its entirety, and Setara was shocked to see the wounds, still bleeding, that covered the spirit's form. She stared with horror-laced eyes, then disappeared into what looked like solid stone. Chandra led the way, then. She used her talents as one of the Stonetouched to know where to place her hands to open the passageway that Setara would have passed hundreds of times before she may have seen it. The passageway that opened was high-ceilinged, and Setara marveled at the sight of the night sky through a small crevice above. Moonlight fell on several markers and skulls, including a pile that seemed heaped together in a rush. "You poor darling," Chandra said at one. She turned a sad look to Setara, who pocketed the earring to help Chandra sort the bones. Some were broken cleanly, as if they had been cut with something extraordinarily sharp. There was a residual sadness to some of them, and there was horror to others. Chandra sorted them into three heaps with certainty, and Setara trusted her judgement over her own here. "What happened with these bones?" Setara asked, meaning the ones that had been cut. "Robbers," she said, explaining the mess of bones. "Eleven knows what scared them off before they pilfered the rest of the bones, but the earring..." She trailed off, then pointed to the bones that had been cut so neatly. "They were hers." Setara helped Chandra return the bones to the markers. The two of them prayed for the release of the spirits, and Setara sat in meditation for a long time, trying to establish a contact with the spirit from Peri's quarters. Chandra took it upon herself to return eventually with Sangue, who stood silent watch while Setara worked. Setara had begun to suspect the spirit would not return when it suddenly did. Setara was considering packing up and returning the earring to the grave and turning the chamber over to Sangue for his consideration. Instead, the spirit appeared between her and the tomb, and it spoke the words it had said in Peri's quarters about finding 'the other.' Then, a shrill scream filled the corridor beyond, and Setara and Sangue hurried to investigate. The hall was empty, aside from what looked like blood welling up from the earth like a stain spreading through fabric. Setara looked at Sangue who in turn looked to Chandra. None of them knew what to do about this, but Setara tried to take a sounding of the spirit, and she followed the sharp, panicky feelings that filled her as she led the way down the halls and into the depths of the tombs. "Should we be going this deep?" Sangue asked after a time. "Is this not where the horror that Torch and the others fought once laired?" And Setara realized that it was true. She was following the markers left by Sixten when he first found signs of the lich. But there was none of the oppressive weight in the air that she had heard about from the others who had gone into the tombs. "We'll be alright," she said, and she hoped it was true. They took glowstones from one of the caches as they wandered more deeply. Setara's runes glowed softly in the darkness, but it was never enough to safely guide their steps. The chill of deep earth persisted, and each of them was glad of the accouterments they wore as they headed deeper and deeper. "Father, where are we going?" Chandra asked, her voice high and strange. And Setara knew they were on the right track at the very least. She turned to Sangue. "Please," she said. "Keep an eye on her. I'll be handling whatever spirits there are. I can't handle her, too." Sangue nodded. "Angus outdid himself with the moon garden, don't you think?" Chandra gushed. Setara felt the corridor lengthen, then shorten ahead of her. Her eyes were drawn to footprints in the dust, and following them with her eye she saw the second apparition. He was at the far end of the corridor, but she could see his every feature clearly. He looked panicked, and he ran towards them with a gust of icy air. And just before he reached them, his face contorted in a silent scream and he faded away. "I didn't see anything. I swear," Chandra whispered, her voice sounding like it would break from fear. But a glance at the old tundra showed her face astoundingly placid. Sangue looked uncomfortable, and Setara lay a hand on his shoulder. "We'll get it sorted out," she said softly. He only nodded, but he didn't look convinced. It was a bit more walking before Setara saw the footprints turn into an alcove that again took her by surprise. And when they entered, the room surged with a darkness and malevolence she had not anticipated. Sangue cursed beside her, and it was then that she saw the room as he did. A ring of plinths filled the room, each stained with ancient ichor and lain with withered bodies, each cut in the same way the remains above had been cut. At its center, a series of ancient runes had been cut, binding the souls in black magics. Chandra wept, and Setara turned to Sangue. "Do what you can," she said, then approached the runes in the floor. In the years that she worked with the Hunters of Oakrest, Setara had learned to essentially read necromantic sigils, and this one was no different. She saw the anchors, the payments, and the goal - immortality, what less? And with hands filled with water magic, she eroded the carved runes for the anchors and the payments. She wondered if the room was of use to the lich that Torch and the others had stopped weeks ago. If it was, then so much for immortality. If it wasn't... She tried not to think about it. She tried to keep her wits about her. She worked for a long time, tearing the seals apart, and as she did the deep evils in the room started to abate. She felt weight lifted out of the room, and when she was finished, Chandra looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. "We'll have to clean it," she said. "How disgraceful, leaving blood around for years like this." Setara smiled a little, and a return to the hall showed no footprints beyond their own, no residual hauntings of a pearlcatcher's death. They investigated a while longer, but Setara could no longer find the strong emotions that had led her down here in the first place. After a time, the three returned to the Citadel. Chandra returned to her usual studies and duties, and Sangue had other Hunters accompany him to the tombs to ensure the dead were properly interred. But Setara still could not settle the earring. She still had not found 'the other', not as far as she could tell. And when she spoke the words that Periwinkle had taught her, she still felt the cool breeze and smelled old blood. Torch caught her staring at it once, twisting the little bauble by candlelight as he repaired his coat. "What's that?" he asked. Setara held it out to him, and he looked for an instant as if he would be ill. "Peri had it," she said. "Remember how she caused such a fuss the other month?" She told him of all the things they found in the tombs while searching 'the other,' and she told him how she still felt unsettled that she hadn't finished the job. He was quiet for a long time, watching the gem as if it would bite them. "What's wrong?" she asked. He drew a deep breath. "I've seen that before," he said. It was the middle of the night, but Torch led Setara out to the canyon floor and into the tunnel dug by the Bleachbone Horde. As he led, Setara kept close to him. She could feel the oppressive energy seeped into the stones, the horror and the greed. "This is where we lost Hodges," Torch said. "And where we fought the Withered King." "Twice," Setara said, staring around at the scrolls turning to dust in a corner, the spare but destroyed furnishings, and the blood stains on the floors. Torch wandered around for a short time, then called her over, poking something with his foot. Setara hurried over, and there was the shattered remains of a green gem set with a golden end cap. "The phylactery," Setara breathed. Torch nodded. Setara picked up a large chunk of the stone and held it up to see runes similar to the earring's stone carved across it. "This is it," she said softly. "Thank you." She returned the pieces of the shattered phylactery to Periwinkle the next morning, explaining the story as she understood it. She told a tale of those deceived into their own deaths, of souls trapped within the 'other', the mate to the earring. "So much," she said, "is lost to history. One day, maybe we'll know the truth of it. For now, I am glad to have seen so much put to rest." Periwinkle considered the gems swaddled in a box on the table between them. "Perhaps," she said, "someone else should keep them." She slid the box back to Setara, and she could tell the coatl was discomfited. Setara reached out to touch Peri's claws. "You didn't know," she said. "You couldn't have known." Peri looked at her long and hard, then nodded. "No," she said. "You're right. But I have worn that stone in pride while its mate held others captive for centuries. It is not an easy pill to swallow." She rose from the table. "I've got another, much more recent stone in mind for my concert. Please, see that these are respectfully handled."[/quote] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=18388185] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/183882/18388185.png[/img] [/url] [quote=Paige #18388185] Paige The Hunters' Archivist Collector and cataloger of many things "Might you like some tea while you browse the stacks?" (Note: This dragon is transfemale. Her bio will only use female pronouns for her.) If there is one thing to be said about Paige, it's that she's a darling. Gentle and conscientious, she loves to entertain visitors to her library, whether they're there for business or social pursuits. She greets everyone who visits with the same deep-voiced cheer and good manners that she finds becoming of a good hostess. The library itself is nestled in a deep, mostly unused turn of the tunnels that connect Oakrest to Carinstone Rest. No one goes down there besides the Hunters, Shadowstalk, the elders, or people who might find a reason to call on Paige and Ink at home. Inside it is a warm and wondrous lair stacked with books, scrolls, and maps to catalogue the tombs found below. In less immediate turns of the library are Paige's collections - insects, flora, fur tufts and pelts, you name it and it's there and neatly labeled, recorded, and cross-referenced. There's an almost obsessive tilt to her study, and in this she pairs neatly with her mate, Ink. When Ink turns her mind towards a task, Paige is her right hand, finding exactly the tome that references the minor detail that has slipped just out of the coatl's reach. Paige remembers nearly everything she reads, and as such is a wondrous librarian. Paige also has a tidy collection of tea. She absolutely adores tea, infusions, and other warm drinks to be made of dried plants. Certainly she can't make her whole diet out of it, but she is happy to serve tea to any guests, often with delicious snacks made by Clarion or Stardust. Sometimes her research takes her deep into Cairnstone with Ink. She does not relish the hunt as her mate sometimes does, nor does she feel impelled to visit the tombs of the long-dead. She is, however, loathe to be away from her love for long, and if she can aid in her mate's struggles for the upperhand against the undead, well all the more reason to assist. She is no tender maiden best left to her own devices, however. She can harness her light magic to summon ethereal crows, which have saved her neck more times than she can count. And while she does not have the physical prowess of many wildclaws, she does have their ferocity. She has taken more than a few strikes over the years. In her spare time, Paige illuminates manuscripts and practices bookbinding. Many of the tomes gathered in her library are hand-bound and filled with her tidy writing. She is a voracious reader of everything from technical manuals to trashy romance fiction. She dabbles sometimes with alchemy and invention as Ink's assistant. Most importantly, however, she aims to keep a home full of warmth and domesticity, highlighted by narrow misses and daring escapades. InkPaigeBanner.png (Paige is transfemale, and as such their hatchlings will have two moms) For a long time, Ink and Paige thought they would not have a nest. Certainly there was no physical barrier, but neither of them found the situation very pleasant. They turned their attentions to more important pursuits, namely the safety of their clan and the enormity of their work. But the thought often returned to them in their quiet mornings, before the brunt of their work could begin - how lovely to be mothers. They discussed their options and determined that however this might be done, it would not be the usual way. They would need outside help. So Ink and Paige did what they do best. They turned to research, wrote letters, and tried to find someone - anyone - who could help them without the aid of some dark magic. While visiting his parents and cousins, Carnelian heard their problem and suggested they talk to Azili, who had helped a pair in his clan. Still uncertain, the two discussed and weighed their options, but ultimately decided to send a letter asking her advice. Azili came as soon as she was able, and she listened to their worries and hopes as a kindly aunt. She wandered Oakrest for a few days, then returned to them with a solution. "Dig a nest in the sunniest spot," she said. "Do not let it grow damp, and line it with the softest earth." They went at once and found a spot where it seemed the sun shined all the time. Here, they dug a nest, and they breathed their worries that this wouldn't work. Oh, but if it did! When they reported to her that the nest was dug, Azili inspected it and seemed satisfied. "Now you must shape eggs," she said. She told them what would go into these eggs - rich clay, stones from the mountains, water from the underground rivers, and notes from their library. She had them mix these items together and form eggs, and let them harden in the sun before placing them in the nest. Ink and Paige gathered the requisite items and did as they were asked. For several days they waited, turning and checking the eggs to make sure they were set before showing them to Azili. When she was satisfied that their task was done correctly, she bade them to place the eggs in the nest and sleep beside it. But in the morning, the nest was not filled with eggs. Instead, there were only the facsimiles that the would-be mothers had placed on the earth. Paige grew despondent, and Ink grew angry. But when Azili came to grant her counsel, the merely smiled. "Friends, you must be patient. The magic is there, and it's working, but this will take longer than some of my other clients." "How much longer?" Ink asked. But Azili didn't know. "Why?" Paige asked. But Azili shook her head again. "The magic of Dragonhome is old, and sometimes it moves slowly. Be patient, and you will be rewarded." It took weeks longer than expected. Ink and Paige moved their research out near the nests to keep watch over the eggs but not lose a moment of time for their work. They shielded the eggs when it rained, making sure their precious charges would not dissolve back into their base components. They sometimes read to them distinct passages. They passed their days and weeks as attendant parents. And in time, what Azili saw became clear to both of them - where there had been sundried mud, there was now the distinctive scaling of an earth egg. It took a long time to come to fruition, far longer than any in Oakrest had known before, but there were eggs - perfect in both their mothers' eyes. Ink and Paige thanked Azili for her kindness and counsel before she returned home. And for her part, Azili reminded them that now they knew the process, they would be free to replicate it any time they wished. "But," she added, "you must be patient." Layout by Straif/34928 Stat block by hisako/19016 Artwork Artists cited by name & number beneath each piece paige-retroRoyalty.png retroRoyalty / 108658 Quote: It had been months since the Citadel was reopened. Trade was picking up, and new faces were moving in. Repairs to the corridors and chambers within were well under way. Normalcy seemed right around the corner. So close, Paige thought, but not close enough. She thought often of her mate, Ink. She thought of how Ink sat up at night, silently staring down her drawing board. She thought of how, since that first encounter with the Withered King, Ink had not had the strength she used to have. It had been a long recovery. Ink gave her all during the time the Citadel was sealed, as had they all. The Hunters of Oakrest had worked together to ensure that the few civilians who had been locked within with them were safe, that the monsters who had swarmed the halls of the Citadel were stopped. But where Ink had once been nigh unstoppable, she now tired so quickly. After the Citadel reopened, Paige had hoped her mate would strengthen quickly. Sunlight, fresh air, less stress in the clan ... It all should have added up to a rapid recovery for all of them. But where Paige and Six and Dru and Torch rebounded from the exhaustion they shared, Ink walked with a limp and her usually engaged attention was now withdrawn. At Paige's insistance, they went to Oddity for an assessment. Oakrest's doctor looked her over, listening to the symptoms listed by both dragons. Then, he sent Paige from the room to listen to Ink's troubles in privacy. That half hour was worrying for Paige, but she trusted Ink, and she trusted Odd to make an accurate assessment. When she returned, she was surprised by the explanation to which they had arrived. "My best guess is a curse," Oddity said, his tail twitching softly as he watched the two of them. "When Torch and Dru pulled you away from the wyrm, it nearly had you." Ink nodded softly. "I don't remember much more of that time passed that. It was exhausting." "It's trying to kill you even now," Oddity said. "You will continue to fight this weakness for the rest of your life if you do not break the curse." There was a great silence, and Paige drew close to her mate. "How?" she asked softly, glancing over at Ink's stern gaze. The way her jaw was set was heartening. It looked like she at least knew what to fight. Oddity shook his head. "I'm a surgeon and a diagnostician. I have no experience with curses and their ilk. I've never truly seen one in action before I moved here. I had only heard of them in rumors." "I'll find a way," Ink said, her voice the honed edge of a knife.[/quote]

ixris- NOT THAT EARLY OR HORRIBLY THEY DON'T

It's actually kind of overwhelming to just be spammed with my own dragons' bios. D: *crushed under weight of own words*