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TOPIC | The Sentinels [Lore Compilation] WIP
[b]This is currently a work in progress! I would be grateful if you didn't post until I at least get things laid out :) [/b]
After some browsing and fiddling, I've noticed I have a lot of lore all over the place, some is missing, and the chronology is... confusing. So, after 4 years, I thought I would finally do some sorting of thoughts, gathering of lore and put it all in one easy-to-find place.
So, without further ado:
[columns][color=white]____[img]https://s1.postimg.org/3k01y1280v/Headpiece-left-60x60_copy.png[/img][nextcol][size=5][color=#650A00][u][b]Seiryuu's Lore Compilation and Expansion[/u][/b][/size][nextcol][img]https://s1.postimg.org/73lznu55in/Headpiece-right-60x60_copy.png[/img][/columns]
[center]
[b][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1449587][img]http://orig12.deviantart.net/337a/f/2015/147/4/4/fr__plague_by_baelfin-d8uyn7k.png[/img][/url] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323513#post_30496221] [color=#650A00]It Started with a Cough: The Beginning[/color][/url] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1449587][img]http://orig12.deviantart.net/337a/f/2015/147/4/4/fr__plague_by_baelfin-d8uyn7k.png[/img][/url]
[url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1449587][img]http://orig09.deviantart.net/21ab/f/2015/147/5/9/fr__lightning_by_baelfin-d8uyn76.png[/img][/url][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323513#post_30496226][color=#03679B][b] Let the Revolution Begin: Lightning Blooded[/color] [/b][/url][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1449587][img]http://orig09.deviantart.net/21ab/f/2015/147/5/9/fr__lightning_by_baelfin-d8uyn76.png[/img][/url]
[url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1449587][img]http://orig12.deviantart.net/337a/f/2015/147/4/4/fr__plague_by_baelfin-d8uyn7k.png[/img][/url] [color=#650A00][b]Return to the Wound: The Sentinels [/color][/b][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1449587][img]http://orig12.deviantart.net/337a/f/2015/147/4/4/fr__plague_by_baelfin-d8uyn7k.png[/img][/url]
[b]Clan Values and Lair Layout[/b]
[b]Permanent Residents: Jobs, Personalities and Lore Snippets[/b]
The Elder Council
Order and Support
Travellers
The Rebels
The Unaligned
Unassigned (Lore-less Placeholder)
[b]Exalted, but not Forgotten[/b]
The Demon Pair
The Rebels
Sentinels
The Unaligned
[b]Fan Dragons: Can't Beat 'em, Join 'em[/b]
[url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323513#post_30496235][color=black][b]Art Assets[/b][/url]
This is currently a work in progress! I would be grateful if you didn't post until I at least get things laid out :)
After some browsing and fiddling, I've noticed I have a lot of lore all over the place, some is missing, and the chronology is... confusing. So, after 4 years, I thought I would finally do some sorting of thoughts, gathering of lore and put it all in one easy-to-find place.
Permanent Residents: Jobs, Personalities and Lore Snippets
The Elder Council
Order and Support
Travellers
The Rebels
The Unaligned
Unassigned (Lore-less Placeholder)
Exalted, but not Forgotten
The Demon Pair
The Rebels
Sentinels
The Unaligned
[center][img]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/tgxsb9yx7e3l1iv/plagueh3.png[/img]
[b][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1449587][img]http://orig12.deviantart.net/337a/f/2015/147/4/4/fr__plague_by_baelfin-d8uyn7k.png[/img][/url] [color=#650A00][size=5]It Started with a Cough: The Beginning [/size][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1449587][img]http://orig12.deviantart.net/337a/f/2015/147/4/4/fr__plague_by_baelfin-d8uyn7k.png[/img][/url][/color][/center]
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[item=infectionist's emblem]
[item=vial of mysterious toxin]
[nextcol]
[i]It started with a cough.[/i]
Pandora had paid no heed to the slight tickle in her throat that day. It was a small thing and her clan needed her to be strong. They were all young and she was to lead them.
[i]It grew into a fever.[/i]
The days had been the worst. She had stood calmly, directing her clan and children to their daily tasks, all while hiding the shaking claws, the doubled sight.
The nights had been easy. Sleep, though it was light and tortured, brought some peace.
[i]The infection took hold.[/i]
When she could hide it no longer, the clan called desperately to the Mother. The pustules boiled and burst and skin sloughed off, leaving sinew and bone. Beautiful maize fur darkened with grime and dirt.
They thought all was lost.
[i]She lived.[/i]
All knew that it was the Plaguebringer's favour that had let her live. No other explanation was possible; the wounds still festered, bones still shone starkly in the light. Her muzzle was a ruined mess, hidden so as not to startle the infants and newcomers.
But they all come to know her truth in time.
[i]
She bears forth the Mother's name.[/i]
She and hers stand sentry forever in the east, watching the borders. Fear her claws - death would be bliss when matched to what she bears.
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[nextcol][i]The souls of the dead, lifted on feathered wings of the Valkyries, come to rest in her embrace. She controls the sway of life, death and magic.
She is Freyja and the skies tremble when she strikes flint to steel.
[/i]
-----
Pandora paced near the entrance of her lair, a slow, steady back and forth. Six strides, turn, and back again. Trench watched her, the tiny Tryst perched on his shoulder. "You need to relax, Mother. She will get here when she gets here," he rumbled to the smaller guardian as she reached her third stride in her newest path across the tendons and dirt.
Her head snapped to him and she paused. "I am perfectly relaxed," she retorted, settling back on her haunches, eyes fixed on the sky. She sat for a whole minute before her claws dug in the ground and she began to fidget.
Tryst cocked her head. "Is this dragon so important?" she asked Trench. "Pandora was welcoming when I arrived, but there was no visible rut before the lair where she paced for hours on end."
Trench sighed as his mother snorted in their general direction. "Yes and no. Mother will argue that no dragon in the clan is more important than any other..."
"But you say otherwise," the small fae chirped.
"No, no. It's more like our genes and breeds determine our status and how much treasure we can bring to the clan. So plentiful breeds such as you or I, while no less important, don't draw as much attention as dragons like Sonata or Raani."
"That is ridiculous," she declared, flicking a claw in the air dismissively. "I do not like it and..."
A short cry from Pandora cut the conversation short, as the matriarch caught sight of something on the horizon. The call was given and the majority of the clan was assembled on the steps of the lair.
Slowly, the imperial appeared and gracefully set down before her, a small bundle carefully clasped between his claws.
"Welcome, Viceroy, to the Sentinel clan, guardians of the East. I have been awaiting your arrival." Pandora declared, all traces of nerves gone.
The obsidian imperial nodded and took in the clan before him. "She is my first born. Treat her well."
Pandora bowed her head solemnly. "I swear it will be so."
With one last parting touch, the imperial placed the bundle before her and took flight.
Drawing close, her clan pressed in behind her as the matriarch smoothed the carefully wrapped cloth away. Ruby eyes blinked at them and the whiskers swayed as her muzzle twitched. Carefully, Pandora touched her claw to the hatcling's jowl.
"Welcome, little one," she murmured. "Welcome, Freyja."
[nextcol][center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=667394][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/6674/667394.png[/img][/url]
[item=weathered grimoire]
[item=ancient broadsword]
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[item=aid]
[item=haunted stone orb]
[/center][nextcol]"Would you stop dancing around and just hit it!" The snarled order cut through the chaos of the battle. Raani stood braced over the fallen wildclaw, teeth bared and metal claws warding off the slashes of the vicious scalebacks that they had been sent to clear out.
'[i]Sonata's not dead,[/i]' Chronos repeated to himself, '[i]just unconcious.[/i]' He calmed himself and drew in the power that floated in the air. He molded it to his will, keeping a small portion of unneeded breath in reserve. The arcane bolt shimmered into existence, streaking across the beach to annihilate the pest.
A hushed quite fell on the field, cut only by Raani's hard breathing and low growls. Chronos flitted to Sonata's side and started the healing process, pleased to see she was, indeed, just knocked out. "You know," he began, "I would appreciate some respect from you, Raani. It is my due as the patriarch of the clan."
The ridgeback scoffed, muzzle crinkled in disgust. "[i]You[/i]? Half the clan has not accepted you as such. Not yet, little fae. Belial was patriarch before you and just because he has stepped aside at Pandora's request does not mean you can just claim the title. Respect is not won through pretty colouring and unique genes. It is [i]earned[/i]."
Her speech was cut short by the low moan of Sonata as she heaved herself over and onto shaky legs. They began their trek back through the Wandering Contagion towards home. Chronos pondered Raani's words, finding that they rang with truth. He had a lot to think on.
-----
A pained moan escaped him as he slowly pulled himself to his feet. He knew that the ritual would be painful, but this...
A soft sigh brought his attention to Pandora who watched him from the side of the room. She lay curled in a nest, the only other presence in this portion of the lair. "I am glad to see you on your feet, Chronos," she murmured. "How are you feeling?"
He stumbled over to her, his legs shaking with the effort. "Terrible," he croaked, brushing his muzzle against hers. "It feels like the Earthshaker himself tromped all over me." He flopped down next to her, laying his aching head on one of her forelegs. "And Belial did this twice? Is he nuts?"
Pandora chuckled, placing a wing delicately over him. "Belial's pain tolerance is extraordinary. He's had broken bones and hasn't even realized it. You would do better to compare your current condition to when I experienced the change. Though, in my case, there was a lot more loss than gain."
"Yeah, going from guardian to skydancer is like the opposite of going from fae to skydancer. Probably just as painful though," Chronos sighed. He wished that he could call up some of his healing ability, but his brain was too ramped up to focus on gathering breath.
"Indeed, but look. The Plague Mother has blessed you twice."
Chronos lifted his head, glancing at his new body. It was a skydancer's, no doubt, but he was shocked to not see the crystalline blue-white skin that he had borne all his life. His fur was a pallid shade of greens and browns, with vibrant red markings as accents. "I... I don't understand," he said, amazement colouring his voice, "I am an arcane dragon. How can the Plaguebringer want to bless me like this?"
"Our Mother takes in all. She does not discriminate," Pandora replied evenly. "You are plaguetouched now. A sign that all the effort and love you've put into this clan was worth it. You stand as the true patriarch, not just a consort of mine any longer."
Chronos stared at her, struck. He hadn't done any of his things out of want for a title. Raani's cold words had rang of truth and disappointment. He couldn't bear the thought of being weak. He had worked to provide for the clan, to be a part of something. "I am honored and humbled," he whispered, feeling the ache seep out slowly and a gentle heat replacing it. Almost feverish, but in no way debilitating.
"Come. Let's reintroduce you to the clan," she said, joy apparent in her eyes and being.
He followed slowly behind her as she stood and paced towards the main cave. The heat had spread, filling him. He felt his deity's strength as a full body shiver rocked him. He was no longer just an arcane dragon in a plague lair. He was finally at home.
He was Plaguetouched.
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[i]A indignant squawk is all that is heard before a disheveled and frustrated clouddancer is unceremoniously tossed into the lair by the relentless winds. Jumping to his feet, he shakes to settle his ruffled feathers and eyes Jaina.
It's that patent "I meant to do that" look.
After he confirms that she understands that everything he had done had, in fact, been done on purpose, he shakes off a scroll case and nudges it towards her.
The case had obviously seen better days.
Carefully opening it proves futile, as the parchment inside is just as mangled as the case.[/i]
Dear Mom and Dad,
It's been about a week since I left the lair and joined Pandora's clan. She has been ((illegible due to a hole)) and she tries to keep me away from the more severely infected members, but this lair isn't nearly as big as yours. Chronos, the patriarch, insists that I'll build up an immunity over time, but I'm worried that I... well, won't. There's a few tales about the ones that probably didn't and "went to serve the Plaguemother".
I think that sounds suspicious, don't you?
Other than the imminent and everlasting fear that I'll catch something, it's actually quite nice he((illegible - ink smears)) and I think that's the reason he sleeps with a plushie.
It's sort of weird for a ridgeback, though.
I've been told that I'm to be mated with Sonata. Something about chocolates with seafoam and beige double skies. I have no idea what Creas was going on about. Ah! Creas is the fae that pairs everyone for the best outcomes. I think she's a seer, but she says she just has a good eye for colours. Seiryuu and Trench agree with me, though.
Oh, don't think I'm disappointed with Sonata! On the contrary she's really nice and down to earth. She likes explaining things to me when she's not on patrol. And she likes to play chess! Not that I'm any good at, but at least it isn't training.
Which, I guess, brings me to training. I've been told that EVERYONE is trained. Doesn't matter where they are from or who they are mated to or what breed they are.
I just don't get why even the most pacifistic of us have to go a few rounds with creatures and invading flights. I mean, really, there are a bunch of fighters who like to fight. Raani is a prime example of that! She has to be kept in check by Sonata and Chronos! That's how much she likes fighting! Just yesterday she ((illegible)) and I nearly died!
There's been talk of me joining Vish and Frejya. The two are a little creepy. Vish likes to "experiment" and Frejya speaks in prose. I guess it could be worse. They're quite strong, though, so Pandora was thinking of taking me with her and Creas to the Arena to do some... what did she say... "power leveling"? Whatever that means.
Until that happens, I'm on lock down. I'm not allowed to leave the lair and they "gave" me a warcat protector. More like a guard to make sure I stay.
((Lines are obviously missing, too smeared with... something and too holey to make out))
Really, it just means more for me.
I know that I did a lot of complaining, but there is a lot of good with all the bad and scary!
Sonata was asking about my old clan and lair and after I described it, she gave me somethings to send back to you. Some legs wraps in green (my favorite colour!) and a green birdskull headdress. Please, don't ask where the headdress came from. Let me just say that I made it and it is not a process I want to repeat anytime ever.
You should find them attached to the clouddancer that deliv((illegible)) case. I've also been informed that the clouddancer will be staying with you as well! I hope you like him!
Always thinking about and missing you both!
Your son, who hopes he remains un-infected,
Cantata
[nextcol][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=525487][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/5255/525487.png[/img][/url]
[item=clouddancer]
[item=battered scroll case]
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A glowing plague rune; the sign of a true magical adept. (Riot of Rot Holiday Item)
0
Vial of Mysterious Toxin
Organics
The label on this bottle was never filled out.
28
It started with a cough.
Pandora had paid no heed to the slight tickle in her throat that day. It was a small thing and her clan needed her to be strong. They were all young and she was to lead them.
It grew into a fever.
The days had been the worst. She had stood calmly, directing her clan and children to their daily tasks, all while hiding the shaking claws, the doubled sight.
The nights had been easy. Sleep, though it was light and tortured, brought some peace.
The infection took hold.
When she could hide it no longer, the clan called desperately to the Mother. The pustules boiled and burst and skin sloughed off, leaving sinew and bone. Beautiful maize fur darkened with grime and dirt.
They thought all was lost.
She lived.
All knew that it was the Plaguebringer's favour that had let her live. No other explanation was possible; the wounds still festered, bones still shone starkly in the light. Her muzzle was a ruined mess, hidden so as not to startle the infants and newcomers.
But they all come to know her truth in time.
She bears forth the Mother's name.
She and hers stand sentry forever in the east, watching the borders. Fear her claws - death would be bliss when matched to what she bears.
The souls of the dead, lifted on feathered wings of the Valkyries, come to rest in her embrace. She controls the sway of life, death and magic.
She is Freyja and the skies tremble when she strikes flint to steel.
Pandora paced near the entrance of her lair, a slow, steady back and forth. Six strides, turn, and back again. Trench watched her, the tiny Tryst perched on his shoulder. "You need to relax, Mother. She will get here when she gets here," he rumbled to the smaller guardian as she reached her third stride in her newest path across the tendons and dirt.
Her head snapped to him and she paused. "I am perfectly relaxed," she retorted, settling back on her haunches, eyes fixed on the sky. She sat for a whole minute before her claws dug in the ground and she began to fidget.
Tryst cocked her head. "Is this dragon so important?" she asked Trench. "Pandora was welcoming when I arrived, but there was no visible rut before the lair where she paced for hours on end."
Trench sighed as his mother snorted in their general direction. "Yes and no. Mother will argue that no dragon in the clan is more important than any other..."
"But you say otherwise," the small fae chirped.
"No, no. It's more like our genes and breeds determine our status and how much treasure we can bring to the clan. So plentiful breeds such as you or I, while no less important, don't draw as much attention as dragons like Sonata or Raani."
"That is ridiculous," she declared, flicking a claw in the air dismissively. "I do not like it and..."
A short cry from Pandora cut the conversation short, as the matriarch caught sight of something on the horizon. The call was given and the majority of the clan was assembled on the steps of the lair.
Slowly, the imperial appeared and gracefully set down before her, a small bundle carefully clasped between his claws.
"Welcome, Viceroy, to the Sentinel clan, guardians of the East. I have been awaiting your arrival." Pandora declared, all traces of nerves gone.
The obsidian imperial nodded and took in the clan before him. "She is my first born. Treat her well."
Pandora bowed her head solemnly. "I swear it will be so."
With one last parting touch, the imperial placed the bundle before her and took flight.
Drawing close, her clan pressed in behind her as the matriarch smoothed the carefully wrapped cloth away. Ruby eyes blinked at them and the whiskers swayed as her muzzle twitched. Carefully, Pandora touched her claw to the hatcling's jowl.
"Welcome, little one," she murmured. "Welcome, Freyja."
Weathered Grimoire
Trinkets
If holding just one of these makes you feel knowledgable, imagine how wise you'd be if you had a hoard filled with them!
35
Ancient Broadsword
Apparel
A relic of a long-lost civilization: Let's use it to hit things!
0
Aid
Ability Stone
Heals the target for a small amount of health.
650
Required Level: 3
Haunted Stone Orb
Trinkets
When touched, wisps of smoke begin to swim beneath the surface of this dark stone, becoming more tangible the longer you hold it. (KS-sponsored by Nick B.)
75
"Would you stop dancing around and just hit it!" The snarled order cut through the chaos of the battle. Raani stood braced over the fallen wildclaw, teeth bared and metal claws warding off the slashes of the vicious scalebacks that they had been sent to clear out.
'Sonata's not dead,' Chronos repeated to himself, 'just unconcious.' He calmed himself and drew in the power that floated in the air. He molded it to his will, keeping a small portion of unneeded breath in reserve. The arcane bolt shimmered into existence, streaking across the beach to annihilate the pest.
A hushed quite fell on the field, cut only by Raani's hard breathing and low growls. Chronos flitted to Sonata's side and started the healing process, pleased to see she was, indeed, just knocked out. "You know," he began, "I would appreciate some respect from you, Raani. It is my due as the patriarch of the clan."
The ridgeback scoffed, muzzle crinkled in disgust. "You? Half the clan has not accepted you as such. Not yet, little fae. Belial was patriarch before you and just because he has stepped aside at Pandora's request does not mean you can just claim the title. Respect is not won through pretty colouring and unique genes. It is earned."
Her speech was cut short by the low moan of Sonata as she heaved herself over and onto shaky legs. They began their trek back through the Wandering Contagion towards home. Chronos pondered Raani's words, finding that they rang with truth. He had a lot to think on.
A pained moan escaped him as he slowly pulled himself to his feet. He knew that the ritual would be painful, but this...
A soft sigh brought his attention to Pandora who watched him from the side of the room. She lay curled in a nest, the only other presence in this portion of the lair. "I am glad to see you on your feet, Chronos," she murmured. "How are you feeling?"
He stumbled over to her, his legs shaking with the effort. "Terrible," he croaked, brushing his muzzle against hers. "It feels like the Earthshaker himself tromped all over me." He flopped down next to her, laying his aching head on one of her forelegs. "And Belial did this twice? Is he nuts?"
Pandora chuckled, placing a wing delicately over him. "Belial's pain tolerance is extraordinary. He's had broken bones and hasn't even realized it. You would do better to compare your current condition to when I experienced the change. Though, in my case, there was a lot more loss than gain."
"Yeah, going from guardian to skydancer is like the opposite of going from fae to skydancer. Probably just as painful though," Chronos sighed. He wished that he could call up some of his healing ability, but his brain was too ramped up to focus on gathering breath.
"Indeed, but look. The Plague Mother has blessed you twice."
Chronos lifted his head, glancing at his new body. It was a skydancer's, no doubt, but he was shocked to not see the crystalline blue-white skin that he had borne all his life. His fur was a pallid shade of greens and browns, with vibrant red markings as accents. "I... I don't understand," he said, amazement colouring his voice, "I am an arcane dragon. How can the Plaguebringer want to bless me like this?"
"Our Mother takes in all. She does not discriminate," Pandora replied evenly. "You are plaguetouched now. A sign that all the effort and love you've put into this clan was worth it. You stand as the true patriarch, not just a consort of mine any longer."
Chronos stared at her, struck. He hadn't done any of his things out of want for a title. Raani's cold words had rang of truth and disappointment. He couldn't bear the thought of being weak. He had worked to provide for the clan, to be a part of something. "I am honored and humbled," he whispered, feeling the ache seep out slowly and a gentle heat replacing it. Almost feverish, but in no way debilitating.
"Come. Let's reintroduce you to the clan," she said, joy apparent in her eyes and being.
He followed slowly behind her as she stood and paced towards the main cave. The heat had spread, filling him. He felt his deity's strength as a full body shiver rocked him. He was no longer just an arcane dragon in a plague lair. He was finally at home.
He was Plaguetouched.
A indignant squawk is all that is heard before a disheveled and frustrated clouddancer is unceremoniously tossed into the lair by the relentless winds. Jumping to his feet, he shakes to settle his ruffled feathers and eyes Jaina.
It's that patent "I meant to do that" look.
After he confirms that she understands that everything he had done had, in fact, been done on purpose, he shakes off a scroll case and nudges it towards her.
The case had obviously seen better days.
Carefully opening it proves futile, as the parchment inside is just as mangled as the case.
Dear Mom and Dad,
It's been about a week since I left the lair and joined Pandora's clan. She has been ((illegible due to a hole)) and she tries to keep me away from the more severely infected members, but this lair isn't nearly as big as yours. Chronos, the patriarch, insists that I'll build up an immunity over time, but I'm worried that I... well, won't. There's a few tales about the ones that probably didn't and "went to serve the Plaguemother".
I think that sounds suspicious, don't you?
Other than the imminent and everlasting fear that I'll catch something, it's actually quite nice he((illegible - ink smears)) and I think that's the reason he sleeps with a plushie.
It's sort of weird for a ridgeback, though.
I've been told that I'm to be mated with Sonata. Something about chocolates with seafoam and beige double skies. I have no idea what Creas was going on about. Ah! Creas is the fae that pairs everyone for the best outcomes. I think she's a seer, but she says she just has a good eye for colours. Seiryuu and Trench agree with me, though.
Oh, don't think I'm disappointed with Sonata! On the contrary she's really nice and down to earth. She likes explaining things to me when she's not on patrol. And she likes to play chess! Not that I'm any good at, but at least it isn't training.
Which, I guess, brings me to training. I've been told that EVERYONE is trained. Doesn't matter where they are from or who they are mated to or what breed they are.
I just don't get why even the most pacifistic of us have to go a few rounds with creatures and invading flights. I mean, really, there are a bunch of fighters who like to fight. Raani is a prime example of that! She has to be kept in check by Sonata and Chronos! That's how much she likes fighting! Just yesterday she ((illegible)) and I nearly died!
There's been talk of me joining Vish and Frejya. The two are a little creepy. Vish likes to "experiment" and Frejya speaks in prose. I guess it could be worse. They're quite strong, though, so Pandora was thinking of taking me with her and Creas to the Arena to do some... what did she say... "power leveling"? Whatever that means.
Until that happens, I'm on lock down. I'm not allowed to leave the lair and they "gave" me a warcat protector. More like a guard to make sure I stay.
((Lines are obviously missing, too smeared with... something and too holey to make out))
Really, it just means more for me.
I know that I did a lot of complaining, but there is a lot of good with all the bad and scary!
Sonata was asking about my old clan and lair and after I described it, she gave me somethings to send back to you. Some legs wraps in green (my favorite colour!) and a green birdskull headdress. Please, don't ask where the headdress came from. Let me just say that I made it and it is not a process I want to repeat anytime ever.
You should find them attached to the clouddancer that deliv((illegible)) case. I've also been informed that the clouddancer will be staying with you as well! I hope you like him!
Always thinking about and missing you both!
Your son, who hopes he remains un-infected,
Cantata
Clouddancer
Familiar
A playful species of raptor named for their hide-and-seek behavior among cloud banks. (KS-sponsored by Vahilor.)
2650
Battered Scroll Case
Trinkets
A scroll case in abysmal condition. Its contents are unreadable.
15
[columns][center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=24498599][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/244986/24498599.png[/img][/url]
[img]http://flightrising.com/images/cms/achievements/55.png[/img]
[item=Traditional Broadsword][/center]
[nextcol]Oidhre's eyes swept the sodden landscape, a short huff escaping his mouth that billowed into a white cloud. It was cold and wet as he trudged forward, vigilant and ready.
He [i]loved[/i] it.
The wet droplets splattered heavily on his wings, braced slightly outwards to protect his sword. The rain reminded him of travelling with his parents - his mother lecturing him on the finer points of currency, while Roi chatted amicably with everyone who passed. His path as a mercenary had been a surprise to the two, but they supported his choice with patient nods and no little amount of worry (though Reine hid hers more thoroughly than the wildclaw).
Oidhre's gaze danced to his familiar as she touched her bow lightly, her eyes locked on something in the distance. The archer held up her hand, shoulders tight. The pearlcatcher's ear flicked forward, catching the light grate of metal on metal.
This was how it had been since they met; Deoir's sharp sight would lock onto something in the distance, and Oidhre's equally sharp hearing would confirm whether it was an issue or not. The metallic ring of this meeting promised a fight.
He smirked, casting a quick look to his charge. The yellow coatl looked sullen and water-logged. He sneered at the pearlcatcher. "What now, Merc?" Dathúil snarled, not in the best of moods. Coatls were made for fires and warmth, not this cold, sodden landscape. "We are nearly to the edge of the hewn city. Let's pick up the pace, before I die in this dreaded rain."
Oidhre's grin grew broader. "Bandits," was his single word reply, eyes glittering.
Dathúil visibly froze, eyes wide, jaw slightly agape. He took a light step back, followed quickly be three more. The shaken coatl's eyes darted frantically, searching for a hiding spot in the flat plains they had been traversing. Nothing. His head whipped back to his guard. "Protect me," he whispered, huddling low to the ground, wings coming up to guard his neck and face.
Oidhre's sword rang free as the centaur archer strung her bow with quick, deft movements. He glanced at his charge, eyes softening. He had picked up this useless scholar months back to make a quick buck. The coatl's quick wit and sharp tongue had drawn him in, molded to his soul. He would die for this shivering ball of feathers.
"Don't worry, Dath," he lilted, his feral grin splitting his face as he turned to the now charging mirrors on the horizon, "I would bring down an emperor if it kept you safe."[nextcol]
[img]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/sfw6d92un1y1qdk/lightningv2.png[/img]
[/columns]
[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/mkrDvHgM/Hor-divider-640-copy.png[/img][/center]
[columns][center][img]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/5it0ehreclu84oa/lightv2.png[/img]
[nextcol]The rain had finally eased, the dark clouds cleaved by the sun's bright rays. Dathúil almost wanted the wet weather to come back. Almost. At least the rain had sloughed the blood from the triumphant pearlcatcher before him.
The golden coatl ran the warm, damp cloth over the injury again, hands shaking slightly as he steeled himself. The blood was [i]so red[/i] against the other male's amber hide. And to top it all off, the idiot was grinning widely, pleased as punch with the outcome of his fight, not concerned at all about the three inch long gash running the length of his rump.
"Well, that was great!" Oidhre announced, turning to look at Dathúil. He appraised his newest injury, eyes shining with mirth. "Do you think it'll scar?" he asked eagerly.
Dathúil's response was a simple, flat glare. He pulled a needle and thread from his travel bag, inhaling deeply and releasing all the tension he held as he returned to the wound.
"Cram it, Merc," he growled. "You can take your cheery attitude and shove it up your-"
"Whoa, whoa, hey now, Dath, that is uncalled for," the mercenary whined. He let out a sharp yelp as he felt the wound closing. "A little warning would have been nice," he whined again, front claws digging into the mud.
The coatl knotted the thread, placing a sticky bandage over the gash. He stood and strode to the centaur archer, looking over the bandaging his goblin familiar was plastering on. He nodded sharply, pleased with the treatment.
Not like he was a doctor or anything. In fact, he was probably [i]the worst[/i] dragon to be doing patch jobs on a mercenary and his partner. His fear of blood was getting better, but it still left him a useless mess if he knew a fight was closing in.
He eyed his hired hand as the amber dragon checked his gear and blades once again. His golden markings shimmered in the sun, the armor matching the sheen, even after a muddy, vicious battle.
Dathúil sneered. How this battle-loving oaf had managed to make him [i]care[/i] was beyond even his intellect. Maybe it was his stupid carefree attitude. Or his incessant flirting. Or his rugged, handsome...
Nope. Not going down that path. The coatl shook his head lightly. He spread his wings to the glorious sun and turned to his companions.
"Let's get a move on. Since I will no longer die in that awful downpour, I want to get to the Hewn City before night falls," Dathúil declared, turning to their destination once more. He strode forward, not bothering to look back.
"No rest for the weary," came the mock-depressed reply from behind him.
The coatl smiled. He knew that the pearlcatcher would follow him to the ends of Sorineth and beyond.
And Dathúil would not hesitate to do the same.
[nextcol][center]
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=25236561][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/252366/25236561.png[/img][/url]
[item=Crumbling Relief]
[item=Ornate Porcelain Jar]
[/columns]
[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/mkrDvHgM/Hor-divider-640-copy.png[/img][/center]
[columns][center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3772431][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/37725/3772431.png[/img][/url]
[img]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/33oog7gquxkicjt/beastclans.png[/img]
[item=Red-Tailed Boa]
[nextcol][i]Something wicked this way comes. [/i]
Peace's eye skittered over the nearby plague lair. The dragons moved almost languidly around their den, the summer heat sinking deep into fur, feather and scales. Eyes drooped, muscles relaxed.
Not Peace, though. Never her.
Her eyes darted quickly, tail twitching almost incessantly. She lay sprawled on the heated rocks of the Abiding Boneyard, looking like any other sun-weary coatl. It was a lie; every muscle was taut. She shifted her weight and hissed softly.
An answering hiss slid from a nearby pile of bones. The guardian skull had more than enough room to house the small serthis that locked eyes with her. His brief nod was all she needed before her eyes flicked back to the lair.
A wildclaw was watching her.
Peace's breath caught in her throat. She fought every instinct to flee and laid her head on her paws. Slitting her eyes, she observed the wildclaw's faint shrug as he moved on. She was a plague dragon on plague lands and not from a rival clan. He had no issue with her.
Yet.
A soft trill from her left, a quick return hiss on her right and Peace was like an arrow shot from a bow. She streaked across the barren ground, silent. She struck with enough force to topple the unprepared ridgeback.
He was the largest and strongest. He had to go down first.
The slash was well placed. He bled out in seconds. She had trained for this over and over and over. She spun and leapt at the next closest, the wildclaw that had dismissed her. The confusion and fury was evident on his muzzle. She struck out again, though, without the element of surprise, the wound was sloppy.
It was enough.
The serthis surged over the ridge. Harpies dropped from the sky. The loss of the dragons' patriarch shook them to the core. With their foundation dead, any hope for a victory was gone. The clan was slaughtered in minutes.
Peace stood silent over the dying wildclaw, her fangs locked in his neck. Her eyes flicked to his and his rage and pain stood stark before her. He gurgled out a single word.
"Why?"
The coatl released him. Her reply was just as simple.
"Hail, Talona."
She strode away, eyes darting to the serthis that had raised her. She had been abandoned. Dull plumage on a coatl was a bad omen, but the beasts had taken her in. They had saved the dreck and lifted her to a prominent position in their alliance.
Would she be remembered as a hero or a traitor?
History is written by the victors, after all.
[nextcol]
[img]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/53k490d9s58vpfb/beastclansv2.png[/img]
[/columns]
Gets the job done without any frills. Disclaimer: May get the job done with frills depending on dragon breed.
2000
Oidhre's eyes swept the sodden landscape, a short huff escaping his mouth that billowed into a white cloud. It was cold and wet as he trudged forward, vigilant and ready.
He loved it.
The wet droplets splattered heavily on his wings, braced slightly outwards to protect his sword. The rain reminded him of travelling with his parents - his mother lecturing him on the finer points of currency, while Roi chatted amicably with everyone who passed. His path as a mercenary had been a surprise to the two, but they supported his choice with patient nods and no little amount of worry (though Reine hid hers more thoroughly than the wildclaw).
Oidhre's gaze danced to his familiar as she touched her bow lightly, her eyes locked on something in the distance. The archer held up her hand, shoulders tight. The pearlcatcher's ear flicked forward, catching the light grate of metal on metal.
This was how it had been since they met; Deoir's sharp sight would lock onto something in the distance, and Oidhre's equally sharp hearing would confirm whether it was an issue or not. The metallic ring of this meeting promised a fight.
He smirked, casting a quick look to his charge. The yellow coatl looked sullen and water-logged. He sneered at the pearlcatcher. "What now, Merc?" Dathúil snarled, not in the best of moods. Coatls were made for fires and warmth, not this cold, sodden landscape. "We are nearly to the edge of the hewn city. Let's pick up the pace, before I die in this dreaded rain."
Oidhre's grin grew broader. "Bandits," was his single word reply, eyes glittering.
Dathúil visibly froze, eyes wide, jaw slightly agape. He took a light step back, followed quickly be three more. The shaken coatl's eyes darted frantically, searching for a hiding spot in the flat plains they had been traversing. Nothing. His head whipped back to his guard. "Protect me," he whispered, huddling low to the ground, wings coming up to guard his neck and face.
Oidhre's sword rang free as the centaur archer strung her bow with quick, deft movements. He glanced at his charge, eyes softening. He had picked up this useless scholar months back to make a quick buck. The coatl's quick wit and sharp tongue had drawn him in, molded to his soul. He would die for this shivering ball of feathers.
"Don't worry, Dath," he lilted, his feral grin splitting his face as he turned to the now charging mirrors on the horizon, "I would bring down an emperor if it kept you safe."
The rain had finally eased, the dark clouds cleaved by the sun's bright rays. Dathúil almost wanted the wet weather to come back. Almost. At least the rain had sloughed the blood from the triumphant pearlcatcher before him.
The golden coatl ran the warm, damp cloth over the injury again, hands shaking slightly as he steeled himself. The blood was so red against the other male's amber hide. And to top it all off, the idiot was grinning widely, pleased as punch with the outcome of his fight, not concerned at all about the three inch long gash running the length of his rump.
"Well, that was great!" Oidhre announced, turning to look at Dathúil. He appraised his newest injury, eyes shining with mirth. "Do you think it'll scar?" he asked eagerly.
Dathúil's response was a simple, flat glare. He pulled a needle and thread from his travel bag, inhaling deeply and releasing all the tension he held as he returned to the wound.
"Cram it, Merc," he growled. "You can take your cheery attitude and shove it up your-"
"Whoa, whoa, hey now, Dath, that is uncalled for," the mercenary whined. He let out a sharp yelp as he felt the wound closing. "A little warning would have been nice," he whined again, front claws digging into the mud.
The coatl knotted the thread, placing a sticky bandage over the gash. He stood and strode to the centaur archer, looking over the bandaging his goblin familiar was plastering on. He nodded sharply, pleased with the treatment.
Not like he was a doctor or anything. In fact, he was probably the worst dragon to be doing patch jobs on a mercenary and his partner. His fear of blood was getting better, but it still left him a useless mess if he knew a fight was closing in.
He eyed his hired hand as the amber dragon checked his gear and blades once again. His golden markings shimmered in the sun, the armor matching the sheen, even after a muddy, vicious battle.
Dathúil sneered. How this battle-loving oaf had managed to make him care was beyond even his intellect. Maybe it was his stupid carefree attitude. Or his incessant flirting. Or his rugged, handsome...
Nope. Not going down that path. The coatl shook his head lightly. He spread his wings to the glorious sun and turned to his companions.
"Let's get a move on. Since I will no longer die in that awful downpour, I want to get to the Hewn City before night falls," Dathúil declared, turning to their destination once more. He strode forward, not bothering to look back.
"No rest for the weary," came the mock-depressed reply from behind him.
The coatl smiled. He knew that the pearlcatcher would follow him to the ends of Sorineth and beyond.
And Dathúil would not hesitate to do the same.
Crumbling Relief
Trinkets
Illegible text is engraved across the surface of this broken tablet.
25
Ornate Porcelain Jar
Trinkets
A valuable porcelain jar in near-perfect condition. It's a mystery how this artifact was so well preserved.
75
Red-Tailed Boa
Apparel
Fae dragons beware: red-tailed boas can grow to be quite large!
500
Something wicked this way comes.
Peace's eye skittered over the nearby plague lair. The dragons moved almost languidly around their den, the summer heat sinking deep into fur, feather and scales. Eyes drooped, muscles relaxed.
Not Peace, though. Never her.
Her eyes darted quickly, tail twitching almost incessantly. She lay sprawled on the heated rocks of the Abiding Boneyard, looking like any other sun-weary coatl. It was a lie; every muscle was taut. She shifted her weight and hissed softly.
An answering hiss slid from a nearby pile of bones. The guardian skull had more than enough room to house the small serthis that locked eyes with her. His brief nod was all she needed before her eyes flicked back to the lair.
A wildclaw was watching her.
Peace's breath caught in her throat. She fought every instinct to flee and laid her head on her paws. Slitting her eyes, she observed the wildclaw's faint shrug as he moved on. She was a plague dragon on plague lands and not from a rival clan. He had no issue with her.
Yet.
A soft trill from her left, a quick return hiss on her right and Peace was like an arrow shot from a bow. She streaked across the barren ground, silent. She struck with enough force to topple the unprepared ridgeback.
He was the largest and strongest. He had to go down first.
The slash was well placed. He bled out in seconds. She had trained for this over and over and over. She spun and leapt at the next closest, the wildclaw that had dismissed her. The confusion and fury was evident on his muzzle. She struck out again, though, without the element of surprise, the wound was sloppy.
It was enough.
The serthis surged over the ridge. Harpies dropped from the sky. The loss of the dragons' patriarch shook them to the core. With their foundation dead, any hope for a victory was gone. The clan was slaughtered in minutes.
Peace stood silent over the dying wildclaw, her fangs locked in his neck. Her eyes flicked to his and his rage and pain stood stark before her. He gurgled out a single word.
"Why?"
The coatl released him. Her reply was just as simple.
"Hail, Talona."
She strode away, eyes darting to the serthis that had raised her. She had been abandoned. Dull plumage on a coatl was a bad omen, but the beasts had taken her in. They had saved the dreck and lifted her to a prominent position in their alliance.
Would she be remembered as a hero or a traitor?
History is written by the victors, after all.
[center][img]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/p0j07qh4kg49374/lightningh3.png[/img]
[url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1449587][img]http://orig09.deviantart.net/21ab/f/2015/147/5/9/fr__lightning_by_baelfin-d8uyn76.png[/img][/url] [b][color=#03679B][size=5]Let the Revolution Begin: Lightning Blooded[/size][/color] [/b][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1449587][img]http://orig09.deviantart.net/21ab/f/2015/147/5/9/fr__lightning_by_baelfin-d8uyn76.png[/img][/url][/center]