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[columns][center][item=bamboo cluster][/center][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][color=#9DA932][font=garamond][size=7][size=4][b]remnants and roots[/b][/size][/size][/font][/color]
[size=2]written by Disillusionist
special thanks to After
[color=#9494A9]4,996 words[/color][/size][/columns]
[color=#7B3D1D]The bamboo grove sprang from a single seed. In Remnant, where things were wilder and magic was stronger, it flourished quickly. Shoots grew into trunks, which spread to cover acres. The giant bamboo forest took root on a gentle plain -- and where there's a forest, many kinds of creatures come to dwell.
And this being Remnant, the creatures that came to the forest were far from ordinary. They were mischievous spirits that loved trees: [i]kudagitsune[/i] or pipe foxes, so called because their slender bodies were adapted for hiding in hollow logs. One of them drifted into the bamboo grove one day, and that was that -- soon the place was filled with a huge family of pipe foxes, happily chattering and laughing to each other as the days rolled past. The bamboo trunks became their homes, and here, in this beautiful forest, they had everything they needed.
The pipe foxes took good care of the grove; after all, it was their home. They venerated the first seedling from which all their trees had sprung -- it was still there, at the heart of the grove, a tiny green sapling. No more than six inches high -- but appearances were deceiving; it still glowed with the energy that had enabled it to birth an entire forest, and it was the closest thing the pipe foxes had to a god.
Khamsin was born here, in the bamboo grove. Like many other pipe kits, she enjoyed playing among the leaves and listening to the music of the wind. She still had vague memories of those times: sunlight turning green as it fell through the canopy, the murmur of forest streams and the wind rushing past. Stars in the sky, cold and clear as ice...and there, in the distance, a dark distortion. Something was approaching...something was wrong.
She and her family lived close to the center of the grove, and when the outer trees began to burn, one of the clan elders grabbed her. "Wait!" he called, reaching in vain for his clanmates -- too late. Overtaken by panic, they were fleeing, rushing away from the[/color] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=9360541]dark kitsune[/url] [color=#7B3D1D]who rained fire and destruction down on them. The old fox turned, and Khamsin saw his face, the grief and anxiety etched onto it. She still didn't understand what was happening....Her parents had disappeared, but then, they did that all the time, away on errands or games of their own. Everybody was rushing past; couldn't she join them?
"Stay with me...Khamsin, is it? Stay with me!" The old fox pulled her along with him. The trees closed ranks around them, muffling the noise -- she saw a dim green glow ahead. The bamboo's heart.
"Help me," the elder begged her, and since she had been taught to respect her elders, she did so, digging her claws into the dirt and helping him lift out the seedling. Together, they maneuvered it into a large, hollow tube carved from a fallen bamboo tree. The elder whispered to the seedling as he wrapped it in linen cloth, and its glow dimmed. It shrank visibly, its leaves folding around it until it was no bigger than a walnut.
Next, the elder told her, "Get inside." He meant the bamboo tube, together with the seedling. Beyond him, Khamsin could see a dim orange glow shining through the trees.
"Side?" she asked. She was still so young; she could barely form the words.
The old fox managed to smile. Tears shone in his green eyes, but it was his smile Khamsin remembered best. "We're going to play a game. Hide-and-seek -- and you have to help the seedling hide! Take it someplace safe and hide it...hide it so well that it will grow again...."
He didn't wait for her to agree; she screamed in surprise as he slammed the door shut. She could hear him sobbing now.
"You are...the only one left...."
The tube rocked. The old fox had picked it up and was carrying it away. As he darted past the trees, he whispered, his claws drumming strange patterns on the outside of the tube, his voice rising and falling in rhythmic cadences. Weaving a spell, an enchantment, around his precious cargo...Behind them, with horrendous, splintering groans, the bamboo grove began to fall.
"Out," Khamsin demanded. She began to scratch at the inside of the tube. "Out!"
And then she gasped and fell silent as she heard it: a roar. Something terrible was out there, something mad with bloodlust and the need to destroy. Its howl rose over the groan of toppling trees, over the stealthy, slithering sounds of undead abominations approaching...
Then the elder's voice -- "Sleep," he whispered, his old voice shaking, but still clear. "Sleep, little one..."
There was water flowing beneath Khamsin now, right outside the tube. She instinctively curled around the bamboo seedling and closed her eyes.
Outside, the elder watched as the stream bore the bamboo tube away. It was carried behind a rock and was gone.
He whirled in the other direction, tried to ride the wind....As he had feared, it was too late for him. The dark kitsune roared again, unleashed another wave of destruction. The elder was caught in the blast, like so many of his other clanmates, and he fell to the ground, as lifeless and destroyed as the bamboo trees.[/color]
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[color=#7B3D1D]The bamboo tree and its precious cargo floated on the water for a long, long time. Days, weeks...It floated onto a river, through lands devastated by fire and death. Hideous, undead things crawled upon those shores, the remnants of the dark kitsune's depredations -- but Khamsin, mercifully, remained asleep inside. And the bamboo seedling -- it stayed with her, waiting for another chance to grow and thrive.
[i]Sleep, sleep...[/i]
They left the blasted lands behind and bobbed into the sea. Away from the broken bamboo grove. Away from the lands where the Ashen prowled. Away from Remnant--
[i]Away, away...[/i]
The bamboo tube floated for a very long time. The elder's spell still held true; the tube was protected from the elements, and within it, Khamsin and the seedling curled up together in peaceful dormancy. They floated upon an alien landscape of rising and falling waves. Up and down, up and down, as the sun and the moon spun overhead...On the horizon, the dark silhouette of a continent appeared.
The currents took the bamboo tube around Sornieth. It bobbed away from the Windswept Plateau, around the Ashfall Waste where the waters turned to steam, past the bleached desert of the Shifting Expanse...then towards the eastern Sunbeam Ruins.
[i]Away, away...[/i]
The waves pushed the bamboo tube towards the shore. It touched land...and there, at last, it stayed. The seedling had reached dry land where, hopefully, it could take root. And so the spell was broken.
[i]Awake.[/i]
Khamsin yawned. She uncoiled lazily and looked around the bamboo tube as confusing memories burbled in her mind. Outside, footsteps approached, and a blue[/color] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35785435]Wildclaw[/url] [color=#7B3D1D]picked up the tube. He prodded the hatch with curved and clever claws...and then he popped it open.
"Huh?" He peered into the tube with a bright blue eye. "It's empty."
--And that was because he couldn't see spirits. But Khamsin could see [i]him[/i]. She already had the seedling in her coils, and she exploded out the tube in a puff of air. The scavenger jerked backwards with a startled yelp; he rubbed his eyes as Khamsin whirled away, unseen and unheard, towards the Sunbeam Ruins.[/color]
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[color=#7B3D1D]Some minutes later, Khamsin grew tired, and she hung on outstretched wings on the morning air. The elder had told her to hide the seedling so that it could grow, but she didn't know where to go. This world was so new and so big....Where could she begin?
[i]"Trees,"[/i] she thought, her stubby tail wagging. [i]"I should find...trees?"[/i]
She looked down. There were no trees below her, but she saw the Wildclaw scavenger slogging back to his home. He'd picked up Khamsin's bamboo tube; she could see it poking out from the rest of the flotsam he'd picked up. Intrigued, Khamsin silently followed him.
It was still very early in the morning. There were only a few dragons out and about; Khamsin even saw some who looked like her, noodle-shaped fellows with big, bright eyes. She trailed after the Wildclaw, though; she'd never seen another dragon like him before, and she liked the blue lights that followed him about. She batted some of them back and forth behind his head as he continued walking, oblivious to her presence.
His home was a colossal stone edifice, a round building large enough to house two hundred full-grown kitsune. It wasn't the size of the building that stunned Khamsin, though -- it was the garden growing atop one of the higher terraces. She had only ever known the bamboo grove, but now here was a garden seemingly right up in the sky, plants bursting from the terrace in all the colors of the rainbow. It was beautiful...amazing!
And, to her young mind, a very good hiding place for the seedling. It was so unexpected -- no one would think to look for the seed there. Khamsin beat her tiny wings, and laboriously, she began to fly up the outer walls of the lair.
She crawled over the edge of the terrace and slumped there, panting, even as she looked around with wondering eyes. The garden was as beautiful up close as it'd been from below. Plants grew in orderly rows, and many of them carried buds that would bloom soon. Such rich hues, such [i]life[/i]...This place was clearly well-kept, and Khamsin didn't doubt that the bamboo seedling would flourish here, too. She began looking around for a place to plant it.
She buried it in one of the flowerbeds, sticking it into the soil under the plum-dark leaves. "There," she chirped. It continued to glow green; it would be all right. She patted it with one paw, saying, "Good seed...Good, good! Grow!"
Khamsin decided to wander around in the meantime. She would come back here at night, just to see how the seedling was growing. She would watch over the bamboo grove as it sprang up again....[/color]
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[color=#7B3D1D]"Ahh, oh noooo!"[/color] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=29453385]Amaryllis[/url] [color=#7B3D1D]groaned. The guard was tired after his night shift, and this really wasn't something he wanted to see before bedtime: "Weeds!" He snorted at the tiny green shoots poking up between the umbra leaves. "I can't have weeds in [i]my[/i] garden!"
Khamsin woke up in time to see him plunging his claws into the soil, trying to delicately extract the bamboo shoots without harming his own plants. She stared at him in horror for a moment -- and then she howled, "No, no, noooooo!" She rushed forward into his face, blew air into his nose, his eyes....Amaryllis jerked back with a sneeze. He rubbed his bleary eyes with the back of his wrist.
"Mmgh, too tired...I'll ask Amrita instead...." Still yawning, he lumbered off. Khamsin stared after him, and then she dove down and started digging the bamboo shoots out of the dirt.
Amaryllis returned not long later. The[/color] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=28262591]gardener[/url] [color=#7B3D1D]accompanying him looked around and said, "What weeds, Amaryllis?"
"Guhh? There were some weeds in--" He broke off, blinking at the flowerbeds. The tiny green shoots were gone.
"But they were there! See, that's the spot where I tried to dig them up..."
"You're tired." Amrita pressed a sympathetic paw against his shoulder. "Come now, you should go to bed, old friend."
"Mmgh, maybe you're right; I'm just overworked...." The two of them left the terrace. Khamsin, meanwhile, had already gone away. She hovered in mid-air for a moment, trying to get her bearings. The bamboo shoots were still cradled in her paws.
[i]"There!"[/i] far below, on the other side of the lair, was a patch of bright flowers. The pipe fox whirled towards them and disappeared into the brilliance. Marigolds pressed close, almost swallowing her up.... [i]"A good hiding place!"[/i] She buried the bamboo shoots here.
For a few days, all was well. She made a temporary home in a nearby tree and watched the shoots grow and grow....She didn't mind the lair-dwellers much; they didn't come near this patch of flowers, and she wasn't really interested in them. Perhaps they would leave her alone....
The ground began to tremble. Khamsin roused herself from her afternoon nap. She stared, wide-eyed and terrified, as an enormous[/color] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=25521457]white dragon[/url] [color=#7B3D1D]strode towards the marigolds. She came close enough for Khamsin to see the flower crown upon her head....It was made of the same golden flowers. [i]She was here to pick the flowers![/i]
"Nooooo!" Khamsin burst out of the tree. "No, no, nooooo--"
The white Guardian blinked. "Is someone there?" she asked, her brow furrowing. Khamsin promptly fell silent and drifted to the ground. The dragon was still looking around in confusion; she didn't notice as Khamsin dug between her toes, carefully winkling out the rumpled bamboo shoots.
She soon lost interest and lay down with a great thud, sending marigold petals swirling into the air. Khamsin was already well away, morose and discouraged. She was already so tired; she'd come a long way and seen some beautiful gardens, but none of them seemed to be the right places for the bamboo grove. Perhaps she had to go elsewhere....
A tremendous impact rocked the ground; she felt it even from up here. She saw a cloud of smoke rising from the southern side of the lair and, intrigued, she drifted towards it.
"A little rusty there, eh,[/color] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=24664798]Polosim[/url][color=#7B3D1D]?"
The blue Imperial laughed. He seemed a bit embarrassed. "Sorry. I mostly use that sort of magic for fighting these days. It's been a while since I've employed it for construction work...."[/color]
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=28592608]Melqart[/url] [color=#7B3D1D]looked at the shallow ditch stretching through the dirt towards the eastern side of the lair. It had previously been hard-packed earth, almost as solid as stone; Polosim's magic had softened it considerably. "Well, no harm done! The ground's nice and soft now; maybe we can build a path along it to the back of the lair. Could be useful if we need a lot of supplies from the main building, you know?"
"Good idea! I'll draw up some plans..." Still talking animatedly, the two huge dragons lumbered off. Khamsin wasn't really watching them leave. She was more interested in that path of softened earth curving around the lair. It was still half-shrouded in shrubs and tall grass....It was a good place for plants to grow.
With a bright grin, she dove down. She buried the shoots in the soil and zoomed back up to check....Perfect! They blended in with the grass; no one would ever find them here! She had done her work well, she was sure. Humming proudly to herself, she floated away to look for a nearby tree to sleep in.[/color]
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[color=#7B3D1D]Melqart was building a restaurant: [i]The Crispy Phoenix[/i], he'd decided to call it. He'd been allotted a great plot of land on his clan's grounds, and he and his crew bustled around it. Slowly, the building grew. The building, and something else besides...
"Should we clear the meadow on the eastern side?"
"Hm? No need. That's where the kitchens will be. The customers won't be approaching from there." Melqart stroked his beard reflectively. "Maybe we'll expand in that direction in the future, but for now, let's concentrate on the restaurant itself. It's pretty overdue as it is...." He winced slightly. "I sort of lost track of time last year."
They brought in stone and timber, laid out magical conduits....Slowly, the building rose. "It's coming along nicely," another of Melqart's Imperial lairmates said. "Polosim said you were thinking about constructing a back way -- from the east side of the lair towards the backs of the kitchens, correct?"
"Yes,[/color] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33029109]Faust[/url][color=#7B3D1D]. You see, he accidentally broke open the ground going in that direction." Melqart pointed. And then he stopped, a bit puzzled.
"It's a veritable forest over there."
"Yes...Looks like that'll be a pain to clear. Um, has someone been practicing Nature magic? Where did all the trees come from?"
While the dragons had been focusing on the restaurant, the bamboo seedling had finally taken root. And like all bamboo plants, it had [i]grown[/i]. It had sent out more shoots, which in turn had sent out canes that stretched up towards the sky. A long ribbon of bamboo trees now stretched in an arc around the Disillusionists' lair, forming a nigh-unbroken wall of green.
"It's actually kind of pretty."
"Bah!" The black Imperial scowled. "Bamboo grows fast; before you know it, it's taken over your gardens. It's a pest, that's all it is. You should have it cleared -- the ones nearest your restaurant, anyway."
"If you say so," Melqart said dubiously. He turned to the crew and began giving orders to this effect.
The next couple of weeks were very confusing for them. The workers did chop down the nearby canes -- only to arrive the next morning to find new saplings growing. It was all very frustrating; Faustino, meanwhile, became absolutely livid. "Sorcery! It's [i]sorcery[/i], I say! We should clear it away with [i]fire[/i]!"
"You might want to think that through first," Melqart sighed, rolling his eyes. He dropped the commands to clear away the trees and returned to the completion of his restaurant.
Faust's excited babbling did attract the attention of their other lairmates. Prior to this, they couldn't have cared less about bamboo trees, but now they all poked their heads out the windows and had a look. "My, aren't they pretty," Faustino's[/color] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=31033001]Guardian[/url] [color=#7B3D1D]commented.
"You're not helping!"
"There [i]is[/i] something a bit odd about it, though. I don't think bamboo trees should grow quite so fast," murmured Amrita the gardener. Indeed, they were nearly at the height of an Imperial's head -- and it had only been a few months? "It [i]is[/i] sorcery!" gasped Amaryllis. He and Faustino shared a grim, conspiratorial nod.
"Don't be silly; who would cast sorcery such as [i]this[/i]?" Little squabbles erupted among the Disillusionists. Khamsin, meanwhile, was unaware of the strife she was causing; she was zipping through the new bamboo grove, relishing the song of the wind blowing through the trees again. She had done it! She had hidden the seedling so well that it had grown....In the back of her mind was the vague thought that her birth clan would find this place and settle here. That was how their clan had started, hadn't it? A lone kudagitsune had come to the bamboo grove...and that was her. Now she was the lone kitsune, the first in this particular grove! In time, other pipe foxes would come here and there would be a clan again....
There were those among the Disillusionists who glimpsed her gliding past the trees. They understood that she was responsible, and they became curious. And so they hatched a plan....[/color]
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[color=#7B3D1D]The Crispy Phoenix was complete. It would be opening once the inspection crews decided it was ready....The meadow had been left alone, and the bamboo trees had now grown tall enough to close up over Imperials' heads.
And Khamsin fluttered through the bamboo grove, alone and lonely. It had been months since she'd arrived here, yet she remained the only kitsune in the grove. Sometimes animals came through, but that was all; even the dragons and their familiars didn't enter. It would have been nice if they did, even if they couldn't perceive her. Then she wouldn't be so lonely....
[i]"Where is everyone?"[/i] She'd made it here on her own, hadn't she? What was taking her family so long? Whenever she was awake, she roamed the grove, always hoping that every time she turned, she would see those familiar faces, hear those familiar voices. A gleam of light...soft laughter...
[i]There was a light in the distance.[/i] Pale green...something big. "Mama?" Khamsin called out hopefully. She rounded a bend...and stared, dumbfounded, at the huge, glowing[/color] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=27282420]spirit[/url] [color=#7B3D1D]standing half-in and -out of the trees.
The spirit looked at her with pale green eyes. "Oh...How precious! You're so small," she rumbled. She reached towards Khamsin with great, dark claws.
The little fox squealed. She spun backwards, end over end, away from this strange spirit. She was about to jet away when--
"Wait! Little one...Don't go."
A different voice. Unfamiliar, but gentler and kinder. Khamsin peeked out from around a tree.
There was another dragon, a much smaller one, almost invisible beside the spirit's light-wreathed bulk. This was a[/color] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=28230211]Wildclaw[/url][color=#7B3D1D], like the scavenger Khamsin had seen on the beach, but shadow-dark, with violet wings. Curling horns adorned her head, and she carried a wooden staff. She looked directly at Khamsin with soft purple eyes.
"You are alone...?"
"Mama." Khamsin was too upset to realize that another dragon could [i]see[/i] her. "I wait for Mama."
"Where do you come from?"
The exhalation from the Guardian-spirit's nostrils nearly blew Khamsin away. The greater spirit rumbled, "Remnant, the continent beyond. She smells of smoke...of ash."
"Remnant? I'd thought it was from a children's book series." The Wildclaw's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, she smells of ash?"
The Guardian shrugged. Khamsin, meanwhile, began to babble: "I'm from a forest...the bamboo! The bamboo grows! The elder gave me the seedling, told me to hide...so I did. I did, and the bamboo grew!"
"That it did, little one. The elder you mentioned...What happened to him?"
Khamsin's expression dropped. "He was sad."
"Sad?"
"The trees broke, and everyone flew away." Her tail waved uneasily. "He was crying. He put me on the water."
"Remnant is across the sea," the Guardian clarified further. "I do not think we will see others from that land -- or from that forest." She looked towards the restaurant. "Is it open yet? I want to taste the food."
"My name is Rahenna," the Wildclaw introduced herself. "This spirit is Taljiwald....Child, what is your name?"
"Khamsin."
"And what are you? Are you a dragon?"
Khamsin shook her head. "I'm a pipe fox."
"A pipe fox...Khamsin? Can you tell me again what happened when you left your home? Talk to me slowly, all right?" Rahenna looked at Taljiwald, but the spirit was already moving away; she was, as usual, more interested in the promise of well-cooked food. The Spirit Seer looked bleakly at the tiny pipe fox. She was so young; she obviously didn't understand what'd happened to her.... [i]"Maybe I'm wrong. I hope I've guessed wrong."[/i]
Khamsin settled down. She coiled neatly atop the bamboo leaves and began, "It was night. I woke up...I saw a light! A far light, but also dark. And it came near, and everyone flew away..."[/color]
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[color=#7B3D1D]The Crispy Phoenix soon became a well-regarded restaurant. Its menu was limited, but the quality of the food was good, and the service and live entertainment were praised by many customers. A lot of them complimented the structure of the building, too -- "And that bamboo path you've got behind the restaurant, it's so artistic! Is it open to the public?"
"I'm afraid not, ma'am," Melqart replied. "You see how it connects to the kitchens? Our staff actually uses it as a back route -- it's how we quickly get the food and supplies we need."
"Like stagehands rushing behind brightly-painted backgrounds...How clever!" The Ridgeback beamed. "Still, you ought to give some thought to opening it to customers. Perhaps as an extension for outdoor dining? I'm sure it'd be a big hit with the outdoorsy, naturey types."
"We're actually considering it. Thanks for dining with us again, ma'am. See you soon!"
The bamboo grove still flourished, forming a neat path from the kitchen to the main lair. The restaurant workers used it freely, but there were no kudagitsune among these trees. None...save for Khamsin.
She now understood what had happened to her birth clan. The Disillusionists' thaumaturges had pieced together the information, and it was only a matter of time before she, too, had realized it. It had taken longer for her to accept it....It had been incredibly painful at first. It would, in fact, have been unbearable if not for...
[i]"You shouldn't stay out here all alone," Rahenna said, as Khamsin coiled around her legs, sniffling miserably. "Look, it's all right....Why don't you come back to the lair with me? It's warmer there; we'll give you food--"
"I want my mama! Mama! [/i]Mamaaaaa[i]!"
A light appeared at the end of the path. "Rahenna, are you still out here?" Khamsin recognized the voice -- it was Melqart the restaurateur. He strode over, his enchanted lanterns bobbing after him, and paused to squint at Rahenna. "What's wrong with your legs? You look stuck."
The Spirit Seer muttered something. From a pouch at her hip, she took a fistful of powder and dropped it onto Khamsin....The pipe fox sneezed.
And Melqart blinked. "Oh! OHH! It's...It's a little one!" His under-fins flattened, and he dropped to his belly and crawled close. His golden eyes blinked at Khamsin. "Hey...Hey there!" His voice was a great deal gentler now, and Khamsin burbled at him in surprise. "Are you the one who lives in the trees? Hi, I'm Melqart....That's my restaurant over there!"
Khamsin sniffled. She looked distrustfully at him. "You burn...my trees?"
"No, noooo! I'm not going to burn your trees; they're very nice trees! I'm not going to cut them down either -- honest! We didn't know you were here....We're really sorry we cut down the other trees. Do...Do you want to eat something?" He [/i]did[i] look sorry; Khamsin saw how his ear-frills drooped. "I can cook something for you. I'm testing food for my restaurant; would you like to try some?"
Khamsin hiccupped. She nodded. There was a great swirl of sparkling light, and Taljiwald reappeared again. "I want some food," she said, a huge, toothy grin appearing on her face.
Melqart laughed awkwardly. "Great! So, uh, let's all go back together, hey...?"
Khamsin no longer remembered what she had eaten, but she did remember being given a comfortable bed to sleep on and blankets to swaddle herself in. For the first time ever, she had gone to sleep in an actual lair, surrounded by torchlight and the presence of many different dragons....She went back to the grove in the daytime, but returned to the lair at night. Slowly the other dragons got to know her better....
She started seeing them in the bamboo grove, too: "Is it OK if we walk here sometimes?" She said yes, and she got used to seeing them go past. There were the gardeners who admired her trees (and even Amaryllis said that they were very good trees), the builders inspecting the restaurant (including Faustino, who mumbled about burning trees not being cost-effective anyway), and various other Disillusionists who wanted to hear the song of the wind, just as Khamsin did. Rahenna often came by to talk with her, and Taljiwald was sometimes seen striding past, always licking her chops at the prospect of a restaurant meal.
"Khamsin, we're going to open the restaurant soon, all right? You said you didn't want to move, but if you change your mind, just let us know. It might get a bit noisy sometimes...."
"I'm OK," she said to Melqart. Truth be told, she thought she wouldn't mind a little noise. And true enough, when the restaurant opened and the performers and patrons began to laugh and sing, she could close her eyes...imagine...She could pretend she was back in the first bamboo grove with her family, if only for a little while.[/i]
She was about to close her eyes again when her communication device glowed -- the Disillusionists had built a small house for her just off the grove's main path, near the first seedling, and she sometimes spent her nights there. The device was present in case she needed something from the clan -- or vice-versa.
She tapped it, and Melqart's face filled the crystal panel. "Hey, Khamsin. Sorry to bother you." The Guardian grinned weakly. "Listen, I need you to go to the lair as quick as you can -- I've got customers, lots and lots of customers, like sixty or so of them. Tell the rest of the clan I need all the help they can give -- waiters, cooks, some dragons to set up awnings. Can you help me with that?"
"OK, OK!" She was already spiraling out of her house, zooming towards the lair. Through the trees, she could see a line of carts stretching away towards the southwest.... "Nearly theeeere....Clan! [i]Claaaaan[/i]! Help! Many customers!" She barreled into the lair, zipping around like a firework. The Disillusionists looked up as she squalled, "More workers...!"
Back in the Crispy Phoenix, Melqart exhaled. He turned to the violinist he'd hired for the night. "That's the customers taken care of -- I hope. Fingers crossed this[/color] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=7777777]Lord Sevetrin[/url] [color=#7B3D1D]guy likes the food....Yeesh, I'd better get moving. Best of luck to all of us, eh,[/color] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=39999998]Legato[/url][color=#7B3D1D]?"
As the rest of the Disillusionists streamed towards the restaurant, Khamsin watched them go. The grove rang with excitement, dragons calling to each other, yelling questions and advice....It wasn't home, but it was a good place with many good dragons. She still hoped other foxes from her birth clan would make it here. Perhaps it was stupid...but she still hoped. She imagined Melqart welcoming them, motioning them into the restaurant. "Come and dine with us!" he would say, like he did for all his guests....
Noise, laughter, music, and the gentle sigh of the trees. There was even fire in the distance, not destroying, but warming and comforting. It was so close....Khamsin shut her eyes again. And she imagined.[/color]
[right][font=Copperplate Gothic Light][color=#9DA932][size=5][b]~ The End[/b][/color][/size][/font][/right]
[size=2][color=#9494A9][b]Credits:[/b] Thanks to [b]After[/b] for allowing their characters to be referenced in this story.[/color][/size]
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remnants and roots
written by Disillusionist
special thanks to After
4,996 words
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The bamboo grove sprang from a single seed. In Remnant, where things were wilder and magic was stronger, it flourished quickly. Shoots grew into trunks, which spread to cover acres. The giant bamboo forest took root on a gentle plain -- and where there's a forest, many kinds of creatures come to dwell.
And this being Remnant, the creatures that came to the forest were far from ordinary. They were mischievous spirits that loved trees: kudagitsune or pipe foxes, so called because their slender bodies were adapted for hiding in hollow logs. One of them drifted into the bamboo grove one day, and that was that -- soon the place was filled with a huge family of pipe foxes, happily chattering and laughing to each other as the days rolled past. The bamboo trunks became their homes, and here, in this beautiful forest, they had everything they needed.
The pipe foxes took good care of the grove; after all, it was their home. They venerated the first seedling from which all their trees had sprung -- it was still there, at the heart of the grove, a tiny green sapling. No more than six inches high -- but appearances were deceiving; it still glowed with the energy that had enabled it to birth an entire forest, and it was the closest thing the pipe foxes had to a god.
Khamsin was born here, in the bamboo grove. Like many other pipe kits, she enjoyed playing among the leaves and listening to the music of the wind. She still had vague memories of those times: sunlight turning green as it fell through the canopy, the murmur of forest streams and the wind rushing past. Stars in the sky, cold and clear as ice...and there, in the distance, a dark distortion. Something was approaching...something was wrong.
She and her family lived close to the center of the grove, and when the outer trees began to burn, one of the clan elders grabbed her. "Wait!" he called, reaching in vain for his clanmates -- too late. Overtaken by panic, they were fleeing, rushing away from the dark kitsune who rained fire and destruction down on them. The old fox turned, and Khamsin saw his face, the grief and anxiety etched onto it. She still didn't understand what was happening....Her parents had disappeared, but then, they did that all the time, away on errands or games of their own. Everybody was rushing past; couldn't she join them?
"Stay with me...Khamsin, is it? Stay with me!" The old fox pulled her along with him. The trees closed ranks around them, muffling the noise -- she saw a dim green glow ahead. The bamboo's heart.
"Help me," the elder begged her, and since she had been taught to respect her elders, she did so, digging her claws into the dirt and helping him lift out the seedling. Together, they maneuvered it into a large, hollow tube carved from a fallen bamboo tree. The elder whispered to the seedling as he wrapped it in linen cloth, and its glow dimmed. It shrank visibly, its leaves folding around it until it was no bigger than a walnut.
Next, the elder told her, "Get inside." He meant the bamboo tube, together with the seedling. Beyond him, Khamsin could see a dim orange glow shining through the trees.
"Side?" she asked. She was still so young; she could barely form the words.
The old fox managed to smile. Tears shone in his green eyes, but it was his smile Khamsin remembered best. "We're going to play a game. Hide-and-seek -- and you have to help the seedling hide! Take it someplace safe and hide it...hide it so well that it will grow again...."
He didn't wait for her to agree; she screamed in surprise as he slammed the door shut. She could hear him sobbing now.
"You are...the only one left...."
The tube rocked. The old fox had picked it up and was carrying it away. As he darted past the trees, he whispered, his claws drumming strange patterns on the outside of the tube, his voice rising and falling in rhythmic cadences. Weaving a spell, an enchantment, around his precious cargo...Behind them, with horrendous, splintering groans, the bamboo grove began to fall.
"Out," Khamsin demanded. She began to scratch at the inside of the tube. "Out!"
And then she gasped and fell silent as she heard it: a roar. Something terrible was out there, something mad with bloodlust and the need to destroy. Its howl rose over the groan of toppling trees, over the stealthy, slithering sounds of undead abominations approaching...
Then the elder's voice -- "Sleep," he whispered, his old voice shaking, but still clear. "Sleep, little one..."
There was water flowing beneath Khamsin now, right outside the tube. She instinctively curled around the bamboo seedling and closed her eyes.
Outside, the elder watched as the stream bore the bamboo tube away. It was carried behind a rock and was gone.
He whirled in the other direction, tried to ride the wind....As he had feared, it was too late for him. The dark kitsune roared again, unleashed another wave of destruction. The elder was caught in the blast, like so many of his other clanmates, and he fell to the ground, as lifeless and destroyed as the bamboo trees.
The bamboo tree and its precious cargo floated on the water for a long, long time. Days, weeks...It floated onto a river, through lands devastated by fire and death. Hideous, undead things crawled upon those shores, the remnants of the dark kitsune's depredations -- but Khamsin, mercifully, remained asleep inside. And the bamboo seedling -- it stayed with her, waiting for another chance to grow and thrive.
Sleep, sleep...
They left the blasted lands behind and bobbed into the sea. Away from the broken bamboo grove. Away from the lands where the Ashen prowled. Away from Remnant--
Away, away...
The bamboo tube floated for a very long time. The elder's spell still held true; the tube was protected from the elements, and within it, Khamsin and the seedling curled up together in peaceful dormancy. They floated upon an alien landscape of rising and falling waves. Up and down, up and down, as the sun and the moon spun overhead...On the horizon, the dark silhouette of a continent appeared.
The currents took the bamboo tube around Sornieth. It bobbed away from the Windswept Plateau, around the Ashfall Waste where the waters turned to steam, past the bleached desert of the Shifting Expanse...then towards the eastern Sunbeam Ruins.
Away, away...
The waves pushed the bamboo tube towards the shore. It touched land...and there, at last, it stayed. The seedling had reached dry land where, hopefully, it could take root. And so the spell was broken.
Awake.
Khamsin yawned. She uncoiled lazily and looked around the bamboo tube as confusing memories burbled in her mind. Outside, footsteps approached, and a blue Wildclaw picked up the tube. He prodded the hatch with curved and clever claws...and then he popped it open.
"Huh?" He peered into the tube with a bright blue eye. "It's empty."
--And that was because he couldn't see spirits. But Khamsin could see him. She already had the seedling in her coils, and she exploded out the tube in a puff of air. The scavenger jerked backwards with a startled yelp; he rubbed his eyes as Khamsin whirled away, unseen and unheard, towards the Sunbeam Ruins.
Some minutes later, Khamsin grew tired, and she hung on outstretched wings on the morning air. The elder had told her to hide the seedling so that it could grow, but she didn't know where to go. This world was so new and so big....Where could she begin?
"Trees," she thought, her stubby tail wagging. "I should find...trees?"
She looked down. There were no trees below her, but she saw the Wildclaw scavenger slogging back to his home. He'd picked up Khamsin's bamboo tube; she could see it poking out from the rest of the flotsam he'd picked up. Intrigued, Khamsin silently followed him.
It was still very early in the morning. There were only a few dragons out and about; Khamsin even saw some who looked like her, noodle-shaped fellows with big, bright eyes. She trailed after the Wildclaw, though; she'd never seen another dragon like him before, and she liked the blue lights that followed him about. She batted some of them back and forth behind his head as he continued walking, oblivious to her presence.
His home was a colossal stone edifice, a round building large enough to house two hundred full-grown kitsune. It wasn't the size of the building that stunned Khamsin, though -- it was the garden growing atop one of the higher terraces. She had only ever known the bamboo grove, but now here was a garden seemingly right up in the sky, plants bursting from the terrace in all the colors of the rainbow. It was beautiful...amazing!
And, to her young mind, a very good hiding place for the seedling. It was so unexpected -- no one would think to look for the seed there. Khamsin beat her tiny wings, and laboriously, she began to fly up the outer walls of the lair.
She crawled over the edge of the terrace and slumped there, panting, even as she looked around with wondering eyes. The garden was as beautiful up close as it'd been from below. Plants grew in orderly rows, and many of them carried buds that would bloom soon. Such rich hues, such life...This place was clearly well-kept, and Khamsin didn't doubt that the bamboo seedling would flourish here, too. She began looking around for a place to plant it.
She buried it in one of the flowerbeds, sticking it into the soil under the plum-dark leaves. "There," she chirped. It continued to glow green; it would be all right. She patted it with one paw, saying, "Good seed...Good, good! Grow!"
Khamsin decided to wander around in the meantime. She would come back here at night, just to see how the seedling was growing. She would watch over the bamboo grove as it sprang up again....
"Ahh, oh noooo!" Amaryllis groaned. The guard was tired after his night shift, and this really wasn't something he wanted to see before bedtime: "Weeds!" He snorted at the tiny green shoots poking up between the umbra leaves. "I can't have weeds in my garden!"
Khamsin woke up in time to see him plunging his claws into the soil, trying to delicately extract the bamboo shoots without harming his own plants. She stared at him in horror for a moment -- and then she howled, "No, no, noooooo!" She rushed forward into his face, blew air into his nose, his eyes....Amaryllis jerked back with a sneeze. He rubbed his bleary eyes with the back of his wrist.
"Mmgh, too tired...I'll ask Amrita instead...." Still yawning, he lumbered off. Khamsin stared after him, and then she dove down and started digging the bamboo shoots out of the dirt.
Amaryllis returned not long later. The gardener accompanying him looked around and said, "What weeds, Amaryllis?"
"Guhh? There were some weeds in--" He broke off, blinking at the flowerbeds. The tiny green shoots were gone.
"But they were there! See, that's the spot where I tried to dig them up..."
"You're tired." Amrita pressed a sympathetic paw against his shoulder. "Come now, you should go to bed, old friend."
"Mmgh, maybe you're right; I'm just overworked...." The two of them left the terrace. Khamsin, meanwhile, had already gone away. She hovered in mid-air for a moment, trying to get her bearings. The bamboo shoots were still cradled in her paws.
"There!" far below, on the other side of the lair, was a patch of bright flowers. The pipe fox whirled towards them and disappeared into the brilliance. Marigolds pressed close, almost swallowing her up.... "A good hiding place!" She buried the bamboo shoots here.
For a few days, all was well. She made a temporary home in a nearby tree and watched the shoots grow and grow....She didn't mind the lair-dwellers much; they didn't come near this patch of flowers, and she wasn't really interested in them. Perhaps they would leave her alone....
The ground began to tremble. Khamsin roused herself from her afternoon nap. She stared, wide-eyed and terrified, as an enormous white dragon strode towards the marigolds. She came close enough for Khamsin to see the flower crown upon her head....It was made of the same golden flowers. She was here to pick the flowers!
"Nooooo!" Khamsin burst out of the tree. "No, no, nooooo--"
The white Guardian blinked. "Is someone there?" she asked, her brow furrowing. Khamsin promptly fell silent and drifted to the ground. The dragon was still looking around in confusion; she didn't notice as Khamsin dug between her toes, carefully winkling out the rumpled bamboo shoots.
She soon lost interest and lay down with a great thud, sending marigold petals swirling into the air. Khamsin was already well away, morose and discouraged. She was already so tired; she'd come a long way and seen some beautiful gardens, but none of them seemed to be the right places for the bamboo grove. Perhaps she had to go elsewhere....
A tremendous impact rocked the ground; she felt it even from up here. She saw a cloud of smoke rising from the southern side of the lair and, intrigued, she drifted towards it.
"A little rusty there, eh, Polosim?"
The blue Imperial laughed. He seemed a bit embarrassed. "Sorry. I mostly use that sort of magic for fighting these days. It's been a while since I've employed it for construction work...."
Melqart looked at the shallow ditch stretching through the dirt towards the eastern side of the lair. It had previously been hard-packed earth, almost as solid as stone; Polosim's magic had softened it considerably. "Well, no harm done! The ground's nice and soft now; maybe we can build a path along it to the back of the lair. Could be useful if we need a lot of supplies from the main building, you know?"
"Good idea! I'll draw up some plans..." Still talking animatedly, the two huge dragons lumbered off. Khamsin wasn't really watching them leave. She was more interested in that path of softened earth curving around the lair. It was still half-shrouded in shrubs and tall grass....It was a good place for plants to grow.
With a bright grin, she dove down. She buried the shoots in the soil and zoomed back up to check....Perfect! They blended in with the grass; no one would ever find them here! She had done her work well, she was sure. Humming proudly to herself, she floated away to look for a nearby tree to sleep in.
Melqart was building a restaurant: The Crispy Phoenix, he'd decided to call it. He'd been allotted a great plot of land on his clan's grounds, and he and his crew bustled around it. Slowly, the building grew. The building, and something else besides...
"Should we clear the meadow on the eastern side?"
"Hm? No need. That's where the kitchens will be. The customers won't be approaching from there." Melqart stroked his beard reflectively. "Maybe we'll expand in that direction in the future, but for now, let's concentrate on the restaurant itself. It's pretty overdue as it is...." He winced slightly. "I sort of lost track of time last year."
They brought in stone and timber, laid out magical conduits....Slowly, the building rose. "It's coming along nicely," another of Melqart's Imperial lairmates said. "Polosim said you were thinking about constructing a back way -- from the east side of the lair towards the backs of the kitchens, correct?"
"Yes, Faust. You see, he accidentally broke open the ground going in that direction." Melqart pointed. And then he stopped, a bit puzzled.
"It's a veritable forest over there."
"Yes...Looks like that'll be a pain to clear. Um, has someone been practicing Nature magic? Where did all the trees come from?"
While the dragons had been focusing on the restaurant, the bamboo seedling had finally taken root. And like all bamboo plants, it had grown. It had sent out more shoots, which in turn had sent out canes that stretched up towards the sky. A long ribbon of bamboo trees now stretched in an arc around the Disillusionists' lair, forming a nigh-unbroken wall of green.
"It's actually kind of pretty."
"Bah!" The black Imperial scowled. "Bamboo grows fast; before you know it, it's taken over your gardens. It's a pest, that's all it is. You should have it cleared -- the ones nearest your restaurant, anyway."
"If you say so," Melqart said dubiously. He turned to the crew and began giving orders to this effect.
The next couple of weeks were very confusing for them. The workers did chop down the nearby canes -- only to arrive the next morning to find new saplings growing. It was all very frustrating; Faustino, meanwhile, became absolutely livid. "Sorcery! It's sorcery, I say! We should clear it away with fire!"
"You might want to think that through first," Melqart sighed, rolling his eyes. He dropped the commands to clear away the trees and returned to the completion of his restaurant.
Faust's excited babbling did attract the attention of their other lairmates. Prior to this, they couldn't have cared less about bamboo trees, but now they all poked their heads out the windows and had a look. "My, aren't they pretty," Faustino's Guardian commented.
"You're not helping!"
"There is something a bit odd about it, though. I don't think bamboo trees should grow quite so fast," murmured Amrita the gardener. Indeed, they were nearly at the height of an Imperial's head -- and it had only been a few months? "It is sorcery!" gasped Amaryllis. He and Faustino shared a grim, conspiratorial nod.
"Don't be silly; who would cast sorcery such as this?" Little squabbles erupted among the Disillusionists. Khamsin, meanwhile, was unaware of the strife she was causing; she was zipping through the new bamboo grove, relishing the song of the wind blowing through the trees again. She had done it! She had hidden the seedling so well that it had grown....In the back of her mind was the vague thought that her birth clan would find this place and settle here. That was how their clan had started, hadn't it? A lone kudagitsune had come to the bamboo grove...and that was her. Now she was the lone kitsune, the first in this particular grove! In time, other pipe foxes would come here and there would be a clan again....
There were those among the Disillusionists who glimpsed her gliding past the trees. They understood that she was responsible, and they became curious. And so they hatched a plan....
The Crispy Phoenix was complete. It would be opening once the inspection crews decided it was ready....The meadow had been left alone, and the bamboo trees had now grown tall enough to close up over Imperials' heads.
And Khamsin fluttered through the bamboo grove, alone and lonely. It had been months since she'd arrived here, yet she remained the only kitsune in the grove. Sometimes animals came through, but that was all; even the dragons and their familiars didn't enter. It would have been nice if they did, even if they couldn't perceive her. Then she wouldn't be so lonely....
"Where is everyone?" She'd made it here on her own, hadn't she? What was taking her family so long? Whenever she was awake, she roamed the grove, always hoping that every time she turned, she would see those familiar faces, hear those familiar voices. A gleam of light...soft laughter...
There was a light in the distance. Pale green...something big. "Mama?" Khamsin called out hopefully. She rounded a bend...and stared, dumbfounded, at the huge, glowing spirit standing half-in and -out of the trees.
The spirit looked at her with pale green eyes. "Oh...How precious! You're so small," she rumbled. She reached towards Khamsin with great, dark claws.
The little fox squealed. She spun backwards, end over end, away from this strange spirit. She was about to jet away when--
"Wait! Little one...Don't go."
A different voice. Unfamiliar, but gentler and kinder. Khamsin peeked out from around a tree.
There was another dragon, a much smaller one, almost invisible beside the spirit's light-wreathed bulk. This was a Wildclaw, like the scavenger Khamsin had seen on the beach, but shadow-dark, with violet wings. Curling horns adorned her head, and she carried a wooden staff. She looked directly at Khamsin with soft purple eyes.
"You are alone...?"
"Mama." Khamsin was too upset to realize that another dragon could see her. "I wait for Mama."
"Where do you come from?"
The exhalation from the Guardian-spirit's nostrils nearly blew Khamsin away. The greater spirit rumbled, "Remnant, the continent beyond. She smells of smoke...of ash."
"Remnant? I'd thought it was from a children's book series." The Wildclaw's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, she smells of ash?"
The Guardian shrugged. Khamsin, meanwhile, began to babble: "I'm from a forest...the bamboo! The bamboo grows! The elder gave me the seedling, told me to hide...so I did. I did, and the bamboo grew!"
"That it did, little one. The elder you mentioned...What happened to him?"
Khamsin's expression dropped. "He was sad."
"Sad?"
"The trees broke, and everyone flew away." Her tail waved uneasily. "He was crying. He put me on the water."
"Remnant is across the sea," the Guardian clarified further. "I do not think we will see others from that land -- or from that forest." She looked towards the restaurant. "Is it open yet? I want to taste the food."
"My name is Rahenna," the Wildclaw introduced herself. "This spirit is Taljiwald....Child, what is your name?"
"Khamsin."
"And what are you? Are you a dragon?"
Khamsin shook her head. "I'm a pipe fox."
"A pipe fox...Khamsin? Can you tell me again what happened when you left your home? Talk to me slowly, all right?" Rahenna looked at Taljiwald, but the spirit was already moving away; she was, as usual, more interested in the promise of well-cooked food. The Spirit Seer looked bleakly at the tiny pipe fox. She was so young; she obviously didn't understand what'd happened to her.... "Maybe I'm wrong. I hope I've guessed wrong."
Khamsin settled down. She coiled neatly atop the bamboo leaves and began, "It was night. I woke up...I saw a light! A far light, but also dark. And it came near, and everyone flew away..."
The Crispy Phoenix soon became a well-regarded restaurant. Its menu was limited, but the quality of the food was good, and the service and live entertainment were praised by many customers. A lot of them complimented the structure of the building, too -- "And that bamboo path you've got behind the restaurant, it's so artistic! Is it open to the public?"
"I'm afraid not, ma'am," Melqart replied. "You see how it connects to the kitchens? Our staff actually uses it as a back route -- it's how we quickly get the food and supplies we need."
"Like stagehands rushing behind brightly-painted backgrounds...How clever!" The Ridgeback beamed. "Still, you ought to give some thought to opening it to customers. Perhaps as an extension for outdoor dining? I'm sure it'd be a big hit with the outdoorsy, naturey types."
"We're actually considering it. Thanks for dining with us again, ma'am. See you soon!"
The bamboo grove still flourished, forming a neat path from the kitchen to the main lair. The restaurant workers used it freely, but there were no kudagitsune among these trees. None...save for Khamsin.
She now understood what had happened to her birth clan. The Disillusionists' thaumaturges had pieced together the information, and it was only a matter of time before she, too, had realized it. It had taken longer for her to accept it....It had been incredibly painful at first. It would, in fact, have been unbearable if not for...
"You shouldn't stay out here all alone," Rahenna said, as Khamsin coiled around her legs, sniffling miserably. "Look, it's all right....Why don't you come back to the lair with me? It's warmer there; we'll give you food--"
"I want my mama! Mama! Mamaaaaa!"
A light appeared at the end of the path. "Rahenna, are you still out here?" Khamsin recognized the voice -- it was Melqart the restaurateur. He strode over, his enchanted lanterns bobbing after him, and paused to squint at Rahenna. "What's wrong with your legs? You look stuck."
The Spirit Seer muttered something. From a pouch at her hip, she took a fistful of powder and dropped it onto Khamsin....The pipe fox sneezed.
And Melqart blinked. "Oh! OHH! It's...It's a little one!" His under-fins flattened, and he dropped to his belly and crawled close. His golden eyes blinked at Khamsin. "Hey...Hey there!" His voice was a great deal gentler now, and Khamsin burbled at him in surprise. "Are you the one who lives in the trees? Hi, I'm Melqart....That's my restaurant over there!"
Khamsin sniffled. She looked distrustfully at him. "You burn...my trees?"
"No, noooo! I'm not going to burn your trees; they're very nice trees! I'm not going to cut them down either -- honest! We didn't know you were here....We're really sorry we cut down the other trees. Do...Do you want to eat something?" He did look sorry; Khamsin saw how his ear-frills drooped. "I can cook something for you. I'm testing food for my restaurant; would you like to try some?"
Khamsin hiccupped. She nodded. There was a great swirl of sparkling light, and Taljiwald reappeared again. "I want some food," she said, a huge, toothy grin appearing on her face.
Melqart laughed awkwardly. "Great! So, uh, let's all go back together, hey...?"
Khamsin no longer remembered what she had eaten, but she did remember being given a comfortable bed to sleep on and blankets to swaddle herself in. For the first time ever, she had gone to sleep in an actual lair, surrounded by torchlight and the presence of many different dragons....She went back to the grove in the daytime, but returned to the lair at night. Slowly the other dragons got to know her better....
She started seeing them in the bamboo grove, too: "Is it OK if we walk here sometimes?" She said yes, and she got used to seeing them go past. There were the gardeners who admired her trees (and even Amaryllis said that they were very good trees), the builders inspecting the restaurant (including Faustino, who mumbled about burning trees not being cost-effective anyway), and various other Disillusionists who wanted to hear the song of the wind, just as Khamsin did. Rahenna often came by to talk with her, and Taljiwald was sometimes seen striding past, always licking her chops at the prospect of a restaurant meal.
"Khamsin, we're going to open the restaurant soon, all right? You said you didn't want to move, but if you change your mind, just let us know. It might get a bit noisy sometimes...."
"I'm OK," she said to Melqart. Truth be told, she thought she wouldn't mind a little noise. And true enough, when the restaurant opened and the performers and patrons began to laugh and sing, she could close her eyes...imagine...She could pretend she was back in the first bamboo grove with her family, if only for a little while.
She was about to close her eyes again when her communication device glowed -- the Disillusionists had built a small house for her just off the grove's main path, near the first seedling, and she sometimes spent her nights there. The device was present in case she needed something from the clan -- or vice-versa.
She tapped it, and Melqart's face filled the crystal panel. "Hey, Khamsin. Sorry to bother you." The Guardian grinned weakly. "Listen, I need you to go to the lair as quick as you can -- I've got customers, lots and lots of customers, like sixty or so of them. Tell the rest of the clan I need all the help they can give -- waiters, cooks, some dragons to set up awnings. Can you help me with that?"
"OK, OK!" She was already spiraling out of her house, zooming towards the lair. Through the trees, she could see a line of carts stretching away towards the southwest.... "Nearly theeeere....Clan! Claaaaan! Help! Many customers!" She barreled into the lair, zipping around like a firework. The Disillusionists looked up as she squalled, "More workers...!"
Back in the Crispy Phoenix, Melqart exhaled. He turned to the violinist he'd hired for the night. "That's the customers taken care of -- I hope. Fingers crossed this Lord Sevetrin guy likes the food....Yeesh, I'd better get moving. Best of luck to all of us, eh, Legato?"
As the rest of the Disillusionists streamed towards the restaurant, Khamsin watched them go. The grove rang with excitement, dragons calling to each other, yelling questions and advice....It wasn't home, but it was a good place with many good dragons. She still hoped other foxes from her birth clan would make it here. Perhaps it was stupid...but she still hoped. She imagined Melqart welcoming them, motioning them into the restaurant. "Come and dine with us!" he would say, like he did for all his guests....
Noise, laughter, music, and the gentle sigh of the trees. There was even fire in the distance, not destroying, but warming and comforting. It was so close....Khamsin shut her eyes again. And she imagined.
~ The End
Credits: Thanks to After for allowing their characters to be referenced in this story.
[right][color=#BBBABF][size=1][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941#post_2323941][b]CONTENTS[/b][/url][/size] • [size=1][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/2#post_30507373][b]O/PC Hub[/b][/url][/size][/color][/right]
[columns][center][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1985777][img]https://i.imgur.com/FpTzG7k.png[/img][/url][/center][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][color=#C67147][font=garamond][size=7][size=4][b]art[/b][/size][/size][/font][/color]
[font=sylfaen][size=6][color=#556979]{ overview + possible connections }[/color][/size][/font][/columns]
[b][size=4][font=cambria][color=#BEA55D]»[/color] [color=#B2570D]OVERVIEW[/color][/font][/size][/b]
Art was how the Disillusionists got their start. The first artworks they produced were advertising media for other clans' shops. As they began building relationships with other clans, they found a wider audience for their art. They were also joined by dragons who specialized in fields beyond advertising design: pottery, painting, and music, to name a few.
Although the Disillusionists continue to help other clans advertise their own businesses, nowadays this forms just a small part of the services they offer. The clan is home to many different artists; each artist generally has their own workshop somewhere within the lair. This can range from a large workshop that can accommodate many students at once, to a small private room that is usable only by its owner.
Most artists are in it for the money: The Disillusionists adore art and will support any dragons who take it up as a hobby, but the artist in question is also expected to contribute to the clan's income (or at least to provide for themselves), and if they don't have a day job, their art should be profitable. This is why it's common to find Disillusionists who are either (A) professional full-time artists, or who (B) have an entirely different job, with art serving only as a hobby or a back-up source of income. Because of this lifestyle, it's somewhat difficult for other clans to find an artist they can apprentice their members to: All the full-fledged artists are busy either making money or doing other jobs. Artist Disillusionists are likelier to form seller-customer relationships with dragons from other clans (whether it means selling their work to outsiders or buying art supplies from them).
The clan's artists will occasionally work on commissions as a group. A customer may initially consult with just one artist, but it's generally up to the artist's discretion to recruit clanmates or other dragons into their team if the job requires it. Payment, once received from the customer, is split among the team members according to agreements they made with each other beforehand.
[url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2257922][img]https://s29.postimg.cc/cnuk2e0gn/Hor-divider-640.png[/img][/url]
[b][size=4][font=cambria][color=#BEA55D]»[/color] [color=#B2570D]POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS[/color][/font][/size][/b]
If your clan is looking for art or if you have dragons looking to learn or share artistic techniques, these dragons might be able to help out.[list]
[*][size=2][i][b]Keywords:[/b] apprenticeships, commissions, creative constipation commiseration, fashion, glassmaking, jewelry, metalworking, miscellaneous art, modeling, painting, pottery, recycling, sculpting[/i][/size][/list]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=34898612][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/battlesprites/348987/34898612.png[/img][/url][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][color=#C67147][size=4][b]ALOYSIUS • Glassmaker[/b][/size][/color]
[b]Keywords:[/b] [i]apprenticeships, commissions, glassmaking, modeling, sculpting[/i][/font]
Fire Ambassador, an artisan who specializes in stained glass. Many of his works adorn places of worship around Sornieth. Has years of experience and is willing to take on apprentices. Will sometimes hire models to pose for projects, mostly scenes with religious themes or ones depicting everyday life. ([url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/drs/2419680/10#post_32773850]read more here[/url])
• [i]Aloysius also has entries under the following fields: [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/46#post_40354135]Alliances & Diplomacy[/url], [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/2#post_30507371]Lore Connections[/url][/i][/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33007024][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/battlesprites/330071/33007024.png[/img][/url][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][color=#C67147][size=4][b]CAMILLUS • Appraiser, Jeweler[/b][/size][/color]
[b]Keywords:[/b] [i]commissions, fashion, jewelry, metalworking[/i][/font]
A jeweler who creates pieces as a hobby rather than a sideline. Nervous about taking on students, but is open to collaborating with other dragons. He also has a full-time job as an appraiser and can examine any objects, including artworks, that are presented to him. Some objects that are traded or sold to the Disillusionists may end up in his shop after a while.
• [i]Camillus also has entries under the following fields: [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/81#post_45921819]Commerce[/url][/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33029109][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/battlesprites/330292/33029109.png[/img][/url][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][color=#C67147][size=4][b]FAUSTINO DYEUS • Master Craftsdrake, Artist, Metalworker[/b][/size][/color]
[b]Keywords:[/b] [i]commissions, creative constipation commiseration, metalworking, miscellaneous art[/i][/font]
Master Craftsdrake of the clan. Is of a more commercial bent, and organizes the artists' efforts to better take advantage of market trends. He is skilled in creating many different kinds of art, but his specialties are metalsmithing and engineering. Somewhat nervous about collaborating with other artists; works better with mechanical engineers. Will accept students, but not longtime apprentices. Also gets a kick out of creative challenges and competitions. If your clan wants something made or someone to butt heads with ([i]artistically[/i], of course), he's your bro.
He is always interested in other dragons' creative processes and, once he is comfortable with them, will sit down for an exchange of techniques and news. He is also not above whining together with them -- or [i]at[/i] them -- when projects aren't going well.
• [i]Faustino also has entries under the following fields: [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/81#post_45921819]Commerce[/url], [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/53#post_40892432]Science & Engineering[/url][/i][/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=26565626][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/battlesprites/265657/26565626.png[/img][/url][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][color=#C67147][size=4][b]ROXLEY • Chief Clothier[/b][/size][/color]
[b]Keywords:[/b] [i]commissions, fashion, modeling[/i][/font]
Chief Clothier of the clan. Creates everyday clothes for all breeds and sizes, but her passion lies in creating fanciful costumes, like ones for plays or Halloween. Although she tries to keep it on the down-low, she is a member of an order of witches who specialize in enchanted clothing, and for a significant price, she can infuse chosen apparel with stronger enchantments.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=51360909][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/battlesprites/513610/51360909.png[/img][/url][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][color=#C67147][size=4][b]RUFUS • Golem-Maker, Potter[/b][/size][/color]
[b]Keywords:[/b] [i]commissions, pottery, sculpting[/i][/font]
A golem-maker and potter from the Ashfall Waste. Rufus spends much of his time creating pottery, which is sold to gardeners and decorators. More expensive and difficult to commission from him are the ensorcelled vessels used to house spirits, or golems used in various fields of work. He is deeply attached to the golems he creates and will make them only for clans he knows he can trust. He's less strict about doing repairs on golems created by other dragons.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35022538][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/battlesprites/350226/35022538.png[/img][/url][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][color=#C67147][size=4][b]SAGRAD • Glassmaker's Assistant, Model[/b][/size][/color]
[b]Keywords:[/b] [i]commissions, glassmaking, modeling[/i][/font]
Aloysius' adopted son. While he has picked up some glassmaking techniques from his father, he is not as good at them. He works better as a model instead, and enjoys working with other clans. (Nothing skeevy, though.)[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=50974235][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/battlesprites/509743/50974235.png[/img][/url][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][color=#C67147][size=4][b]VERONA • Painter[/b][/size][/color]
[b]Keywords:[/b] [i]painting[/i][/font]
A painter who adores bright colors. Many of her works feature landscapes and pastoral and urban scenes. Critics don't take her work seriously, calling them too "safe" and "saccharine", but smaller prints of Verona's work can often be found for sale or adorning places where "safe and saccharine" is required, such as infirmaries and cafes.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=36348118][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/battlesprites/363482/36348118.png[/img][/url][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][color=#C67147][size=4][b]XIALANTHE • Recycler[/b][/size][/color]
[b]Keywords:[/b] [i]recycling, sculpting[/i][/font]
A tsukumogami gestalt. Collects pieces of trash and recycles them. Shy and reticent, but will teach other dragons her techniques if she is politely asked. Specializes in everyday objects such as houseware and accessories. She doesn't do so well with commissions, but her works may sometimes be for sale in Camillus' shop.
• [i]Xialanthe also has entries under the following fields: [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/81#post_45921822]Commerce[/url][/columns]
[right][color=#BBBABF][size=1][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941#post_2323941][b]CONTENTS[/b][/url][/size] • [size=1][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/2#post_30507373][b]O/PC Hub[/b][/url][/size][/color][/right]
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art
{ overview + possible connections }
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» OVERVIEW
Art was how the Disillusionists got their start. The first artworks they produced were advertising media for other clans' shops. As they began building relationships with other clans, they found a wider audience for their art. They were also joined by dragons who specialized in fields beyond advertising design: pottery, painting, and music, to name a few.
Although the Disillusionists continue to help other clans advertise their own businesses, nowadays this forms just a small part of the services they offer. The clan is home to many different artists; each artist generally has their own workshop somewhere within the lair. This can range from a large workshop that can accommodate many students at once, to a small private room that is usable only by its owner.
Most artists are in it for the money: The Disillusionists adore art and will support any dragons who take it up as a hobby, but the artist in question is also expected to contribute to the clan's income (or at least to provide for themselves), and if they don't have a day job, their art should be profitable. This is why it's common to find Disillusionists who are either (A) professional full-time artists, or who (B) have an entirely different job, with art serving only as a hobby or a back-up source of income. Because of this lifestyle, it's somewhat difficult for other clans to find an artist they can apprentice their members to: All the full-fledged artists are busy either making money or doing other jobs. Artist Disillusionists are likelier to form seller-customer relationships with dragons from other clans (whether it means selling their work to outsiders or buying art supplies from them).
The clan's artists will occasionally work on commissions as a group. A customer may initially consult with just one artist, but it's generally up to the artist's discretion to recruit clanmates or other dragons into their team if the job requires it. Payment, once received from the customer, is split among the team members according to agreements they made with each other beforehand.
» POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS
If your clan is looking for art or if you have dragons looking to learn or share artistic techniques, these dragons might be able to help out.
- Keywords: apprenticeships, commissions, creative constipation commiseration, fashion, glassmaking, jewelry, metalworking, miscellaneous art, modeling, painting, pottery, recycling, sculpting
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ALOYSIUS • Glassmaker
Keywords: apprenticeships, commissions, glassmaking, modeling, sculpting
Fire Ambassador, an artisan who specializes in stained glass. Many of his works adorn places of worship around Sornieth. Has years of experience and is willing to take on apprentices. Will sometimes hire models to pose for projects, mostly scenes with religious themes or ones depicting everyday life. (read more here)
• Aloysius also has entries under the following fields: Alliances & Diplomacy, Lore Connections
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CAMILLUS • Appraiser, Jeweler
Keywords: commissions, fashion, jewelry, metalworking
A jeweler who creates pieces as a hobby rather than a sideline. Nervous about taking on students, but is open to collaborating with other dragons. He also has a full-time job as an appraiser and can examine any objects, including artworks, that are presented to him. Some objects that are traded or sold to the Disillusionists may end up in his shop after a while.
• Camillus also has entries under the following fields: Commerce
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FAUSTINO DYEUS • Master Craftsdrake, Artist, Metalworker
Keywords: commissions, creative constipation commiseration, metalworking, miscellaneous art
Master Craftsdrake of the clan. Is of a more commercial bent, and organizes the artists' efforts to better take advantage of market trends. He is skilled in creating many different kinds of art, but his specialties are metalsmithing and engineering. Somewhat nervous about collaborating with other artists; works better with mechanical engineers. Will accept students, but not longtime apprentices. Also gets a kick out of creative challenges and competitions. If your clan wants something made or someone to butt heads with (artistically, of course), he's your bro.
He is always interested in other dragons' creative processes and, once he is comfortable with them, will sit down for an exchange of techniques and news. He is also not above whining together with them -- or at them -- when projects aren't going well.
• Faustino also has entries under the following fields: Commerce, Science & Engineering
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ROXLEY • Chief Clothier
Keywords: commissions, fashion, modeling
Chief Clothier of the clan. Creates everyday clothes for all breeds and sizes, but her passion lies in creating fanciful costumes, like ones for plays or Halloween. Although she tries to keep it on the down-low, she is a member of an order of witches who specialize in enchanted clothing, and for a significant price, she can infuse chosen apparel with stronger enchantments.
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RUFUS • Golem-Maker, Potter
Keywords: commissions, pottery, sculpting
A golem-maker and potter from the Ashfall Waste. Rufus spends much of his time creating pottery, which is sold to gardeners and decorators. More expensive and difficult to commission from him are the ensorcelled vessels used to house spirits, or golems used in various fields of work. He is deeply attached to the golems he creates and will make them only for clans he knows he can trust. He's less strict about doing repairs on golems created by other dragons.
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SAGRAD • Glassmaker's Assistant, Model
Keywords: commissions, glassmaking, modeling
Aloysius' adopted son. While he has picked up some glassmaking techniques from his father, he is not as good at them. He works better as a model instead, and enjoys working with other clans. (Nothing skeevy, though.)
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VERONA • Painter
Keywords: painting
A painter who adores bright colors. Many of her works feature landscapes and pastoral and urban scenes. Critics don't take her work seriously, calling them too "safe" and "saccharine", but smaller prints of Verona's work can often be found for sale or adorning places where "safe and saccharine" is required, such as infirmaries and cafes.
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XIALANTHE • Recycler
Keywords: recycling, sculpting
A tsukumogami gestalt. Collects pieces of trash and recycles them. Shy and reticent, but will teach other dragons her techniques if she is politely asked. Specializes in everyday objects such as houseware and accessories. She doesn't do so well with commissions, but her works may sometimes be for sale in Camillus' shop.
• Xialanthe also has entries under the following fields: Commerce
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[center][color=#BBBABF][size=2][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/1#post_2323941]Contents[/url] • Characters [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/1#post_30507351]A-M[/url] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/1#post_30507353]N-Z[/url] • [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/2#post_30507379]Supplemental Lore[/url][/size][/color][/center]
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[columns][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2357981][img]https://i.imgur.com/2hxBqsD.png[/img][/url][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][center][color=#75A8FF][font=garamond][size=7][b]winter carnival 2018 entries[/b][/size][/font][/color][/center]
[color=#7995C1][b]Background:[/b] These short pieces were written for a Crystalline Gala event. They are 50-350 words long and revolve around prompts provided by the event hosts. Winning entries were chosen by RNG.
The following dragons (in order) have blurbs in this post:[/color][/columns]
[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=25503114][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/255032/25503114p.png[/img][/url][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=26004563][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/260046/26004563p.png[/img][/url][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=34540094][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/345401/34540094p.png[/img][/url][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=5474378][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/54744/5474378p.png[/img][/url][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32435509][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/324356/32435509p.png[/img][/url][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=15438539][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/154386/15438539p.png[/img][/url][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=14111953][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/141120/14111953p.png[/img][/url]
[size=2][color=#BBBABF][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=25503114]Vanessa[/url] • [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=26004563]Malkiriam[/url] • [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=34540094]Aurelie[/url] • [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=5474378]Kyuchan[/url] • [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32435509]Minuit[/url] • [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=15438539]Crystaline[/url] • [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=14111953]Sturmwelle[/url][/color][/size][/center]
[center][url=http://msb-lair.tumblr.com/post/138792766902/even-more-flight-dividers][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/e2ef31cd285982310ff93e3d1f5c0ec9/tumblr_inline_o23j4ayWtt1r3lvtf_500.png[/img][/url][/center]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=25503114][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/255032/25503114.png[/img][/url]
[center][size=2][color=#9494A9][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=25503114]profile[/url] • [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/6#post_32436899]main post[/url][/color][/size][/center][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][quote name="BogWytch" date="2018-01-28 08:24:54" ][center][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2357981/2#post_31498802][b]Day #1:[/b][/url][/center]
Pick a dragon from your Lair who likes attending winter carnival every year. Write about them inviting a friend with them, ànd what activities they enjoyed doing. Feel free to post what dragon you chose for the carnival, with your writing.[/quote][/columns]
Snow was a rarity in the Sunbeam Ruins, where the sun blazed nearly every day. Vanessa, having been born and reared there, had always thought of it as some exotic substance, like stardust from the Arcanist's lands or the pale grains that made up the Shifting Expanse's desert. Furthermore, while most babysitters fuel their charges' imaginations with stories, for Vanessa, it'd been the exact opposite: Her first three charges were hatchlings from the Southern Icefield, and she'd been entranced by their tales of soaring ice peaks, auroras lighting up the night, and of course, [i]snow[/i].
The hatchlings had been anxious about living in a new land at first, but Vanessa had guided them up and down the steps of Mirrorlight Promenade and told them stories about the ruins. The children, aching for home, had listened closely to her tales, immersed themselves willingly in their bright new world. Those stories, tales of fantastic creatures and heroic dragons, had made it easier for them to settle into their new clan.
It was they who convinced the clan leaders to let Vanessa accompany them to the Winter Carnival -- her very first. Once there, the Skydancer had been entranced by...well, [i]everything[/i]. It was just as the kids had described: soaring peaks, glittering ice, auroras lighting up the heavens...and snow! Of [i]course[/i] there was snow! It was fluffy and clean and absolutely begging to be played with....
That snowball fight was a first for her, too. Afterwards, she wandered from stall to stall to experience the wonders of the carnival. This time it was her young charges who guided her, as eager to share their home with her as she'd shared hers with them.
These days, Vanessa has new charges. The original three hatchlings have grown and assumed responsibilities of their own. But every year when the frost closes in, they take Vanessa and the hatchlings to the Southern Icefield to experience the carnival in all its fun and delight. Hatchlings grow up and get jobs, have families...but the pull of home and the wonders that await there never really go away.
[center][url=http://msb-lair.tumblr.com/post/138792766902/even-more-flight-dividers][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/e2ef31cd285982310ff93e3d1f5c0ec9/tumblr_inline_o23j4ayWtt1r3lvtf_500.png[/img][/url][/center]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=26004563][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/260046/26004563.png[/img][/url]
[center][size=2][color=#9494A9][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=26004563]profile[/url] • [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/6#post_32436865]main post[/url][/color][/size][/center][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][quote name="BogWytch" date="2018-01-29 09:49:51" ][center][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2357981/6#post_31516181][b]Day #2:[/b][/url][/center]
The Same two dragons friends came to the carnival the 2nd day. Before they did they decided to invite one or two more friends. Write about who they chose and why? Did they do the same activities as the day before or all different ones. What type of winter carnival foods did they eat? Feel free to post a graphic/ photo of foods they ate, with your writing.[/quote][/columns]
Malkiriam was one of Vanessa's original three charges. The move to the Sunbeam Ruins had not affected her well -- she was photosensitive and the light burned her scales. For the first few weeks in her new home, she looked like a mummy, with peeling scales, trailing bandages, and pale, anxious eyes peering from deep within her cowl.
So she was relieved when Hiveriel suggested that they take Vanessa to the Winter Carnival. She missed the cool, clean air of her birthplace -- and best of all, the snow would soothe her parched skin.
Vanessa loves the snowball fights, but there are other wonders to be seen in the Carnival. She and the other hatchlings are led by Malkiriam into the funhouses, where they laugh at the optical illusions and make faces at the mirrors. Malkiriam is normally self-conscious, but here on her home turf, surrounded by friends, she can forget about the blazing sun and the scars on her scales. There's only the here and now of the Winter Carnival, and the face that looks back from the funhouse mirrors always bears a carefree smile.
[center][url=http://msb-lair.tumblr.com/post/138792766902/even-more-flight-dividers][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/e2ef31cd285982310ff93e3d1f5c0ec9/tumblr_inline_o23j4ayWtt1r3lvtf_500.png[/img][/url][/center]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=5474378][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/54744/5474378.png[/img][/url]
[center][size=2][color=#9494A9][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=5474378]profile[/url] • [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/12#post_32803770]main post[/url][/color][/size][/center][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][quote name="BogWytch" date="2018-01-30 09:48:15" ][center][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2357981/9#post_31530367][b]Day #3:[/b][/url][/center]
Pick a new dragon from your Lair who decided to go by themself. Little did they know a friend of theirs decides to on their own. As they were walking to the entrance they noticed each other. Describe what happens next. Were they excited to see each other. Did they decide to go their separate ways or do the same activities together. Feel free to post a picture of a winter carnival entrance or activity with your writing.[/quote][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=34540094][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/345401/34540094.png[/img][/url]
[center][size=2][color=#9494A9][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=34540094]profile[/url] • [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/22#post_34811441]main post[/url][/color][/size][/center][/columns]
The kingdom had always been dark....Dark, forbidding, with only occasional flashes of gold. Sometimes, if she'd been lucky, there had been flickers of gem-toned light. Fleeting, almost illusory -- but they'd drawn her up to the sun, where she could be away from her parents and the choking glamour they called a kingdom....
Now Aurelie stood, bemused, at the entrance to the Carnival. She'd slipped away on her own, curious about the celebrations everyone had been talking about. The place, she decided, was nearly an exact opposite of the Kingdom. Unlike that rainbow-tinted darkness, this place was mostly white, and blinding in its revelry. Almost gaudy. But the laughter rang true, and the smiles were brighter than any jewel could be. And more precious...Aurelie felt her heart warm, insulating her against the bitter chill.
She'd heard that the matron and three other clanmates had gone ahead; they were probably snowball-fighting somewhere. Maybe she could find them....She was quite surprised, then, when she saw the fiery Coatl wobbling and teetering from stall to stall. He was a familiar face.
"Grandfather."
"Mm?" Old Kyuchan turned around. "Oh, Aurelie! They told me you'd gone out somewhere, but I didn't think it'd be here....I thought someone as interested in treasure as yourself might've gone over to that game run by the Mirror. [i]Fortune's Game of[/i]...Fortune? Hmmm."
"Master Faustino is handling that one" -- [i]probably very badly[/i], Aurelie thought. The great Imperial didn't make friends easily. She wondered if she'd hear his screams of fury later on.
Kyuchan saw how she craned her head this way and that. The aged Coatl's face softened. "It's your first Carnival, is it?"
Aurelie nodded. She didn't notice, but her mouth was actually half-open in an eager smile.
Kyuchan grinned back. "I haven't been to one of these in years, but I think I've still got it in me to take on some of the games. You'd like that? --Maybe a little souvenir? Well, come on, young Aurelie, and let's try our luck! Your extraordinary nose led you here, so perhaps there [i]is[/i] treasure to be had...."
[center][url=http://msb-lair.tumblr.com/post/138792766902/even-more-flight-dividers][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/e2ef31cd285982310ff93e3d1f5c0ec9/tumblr_inline_o23j4ayWtt1r3lvtf_500.png[/img][/url][/center]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32435509][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/324356/32435509.png[/img][/url]
[center][size=2][color=#9494A9][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32435509]profile[/url] • [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/22#post_34811431]main post[/url][/color][/size][/center][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][quote name="BogWytch" date="2018-01-31 09:17:23" ][center][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2357981/11#post_31543720][b]Day #4:[/b][/url][/center]
At the carnival they have a Winter Olympics theme practice are. With the Winter Olympics coming up, pick a dragon from your Lair who has always dreamed of going. Describe What winter sport they chose, and what items from Brewing would help them with their training. Along with your writing post a graphic or two of what brewing items you chose, and why.[/quote][/columns]
Having been crippled since birth, Minuit could only observe other dragons as they walked and ran on their own strong legs. And not just walking and running -- also dancing, jumping, skiing, skating....His parents had hosted grand balls for the winter holidays. As a child, aided by his Squall Rasa, he had stumbled to the balustrade and peered down at the ballroom, wondering at the patterns the dragons traced across the floor.
He'd watched children of his age enjoy winter games, like snowball fights, but his favorite had been [i]skating[/i]. The patterns had closely mirrored the ones executed by ballroom dancers. Looking at his brothers and the other palace children gliding across the ice...He had envied them so deeply.
That had all been very long ago. Surely the magic of medicine had advanced since then? He remembered visiting the old Trading Post alchemist, seeing the recipes tacked onto the walls. There were wondrous stones that granted dragons special abilities....Could one of those heal him? A spell to boost his magical energy, another to heal his body, and yet another to give his wings grace and strength...and then maybe, just maybe, his dreams of dancing across the ice would become reality....
[center][item=Silverglow Meditate][item=Empathetic Regeneration][item=Plumed Anticipate][/center]
[center][url=http://msb-lair.tumblr.com/post/138792766902/even-more-flight-dividers][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/e2ef31cd285982310ff93e3d1f5c0ec9/tumblr_inline_o23j4ayWtt1r3lvtf_500.png[/img][/url][/center]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=15438539][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/154386/15438539.png[/img][/url]
[center][size=2][color=#9494A9][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=15438539]profile[/url] • [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/8#post_32437063]main post[/url][/color][/size][/center][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][quote name="BogWytch" date="2018-02-01 07:43:24" ][center][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2357981/12#post_31556764][b]Day #5:[/b][/url][/center]
Choose a different dragon, and describe after hanging out at the carnival not to far away from the exit gate they decide to rest at a long bench nearby. They sit there contemplating the day with the goodies they won from a couple of the games they played. Describe what games they played, and what prizes they won from Pinkerton’s plunder. Post a graphic with your writing what item was won.[/quote][/columns]
Although Crystaline had been born in the Southern Icefield, it'd been a long time since he'd visited there -- or anywhere, really. His old injuries had only become more pronounced with age, and the ache in his hide was nearly constant now.
So it had been a tremendous relief when, upon arriving, the cold air had leached into his skin. It had acted like a balm, cooling the old scars until there was only a dull buzz beneath the scales. Crystaline had found himself standing a little straighter. He felt more energized than he'd been in days. And looking at the other dragons at the Carnival, eager to test their prowess and luck, he'd felt -- dare he think it? -- more [i]competitive[/i].
Perhaps he'd been competing against himself all along, against the ache that plagued his body. He'd tried many different games: the ring toss, the dunk tank, the shooting range....More often than not, he'd walked away empty-handed. But not always.
He couldn't help chuckling to himself as he surveyed his prizes. Mostly cheap trinkets, a few soft toys. Nothing that an engineer like himself could use. Still, they were valuable in another way: They'd shown him that despite his infirmities he could still confront a challenge -- and have fun doing it, too.
Besides, they weren't completely useless. There were bound to be hatchlings who'd love something new to play with. Crystaline smiled and patted the toys that lay on the bench beside him. His lairmates would be leaving the Carnival soon; all he had to do now was wait for them. As far as he was concerned, his day was done -- but what a rewarding one it'd been.
[center][item=stuffed alstroemeria fox][item=tadhop beanie][item=discarded ribbon][item=brightly painted bird toy][item=nocturne puppet][/center]
[center][url=http://msb-lair.tumblr.com/post/138792766902/even-more-flight-dividers][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/e2ef31cd285982310ff93e3d1f5c0ec9/tumblr_inline_o23j4ayWtt1r3lvtf_500.png[/img][/url][/center]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=14111953][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/141120/14111953.png[/img][/url]
[center][size=2][color=#9494A9][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=14111953]profile[/url] • [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/10#post_32803505]main post[/url][/color][/size][/center][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][quote name="BogWytch" date="2018-02-02 09:12:25" ][center][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2357981/14#post_31571703][b]Day #6:[/b][/url][/center]
One of the game options at the winter carnival was battling in the coliseum. Pick a dragon or two to describe their time battling at the coliseum. With your writing, post a graphic of what item(s) they may win at the end of a battle.[/quote][/columns]
Sturm wasn't the clan's oldest fighter, but she was the most experienced. She had started training from a young age, and when magic -- which she had so desperately wanted -- had failed to bloom within her, she had channeled her ferocity into melee combat instead.
She led the clan's fighting teams, and her teammates, both of whom were much younger than she was, looked up to her as a mentor and a fellow fighter. They had a great deal of respect for her -- reinforced by her usual expression, which was stern and unsmiling. Although sometimes...
"What do we do with all this snow?" asked [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=26635401]Jubilant[/url]. The Spiral was cradling a heap of snow in his arms, and his lower coils were wrapped around another pile. Sturmwelle could tell from the way the snow glistened that it was some of the Icewarden's Eternal tokens.
She shrugged. "Take it back to the lair and shove it into the Vault. The festival's nearly over. We can use it again next year."
"Next year?" Jubilant frowned. "So it's just gonna stay like this?"
"Yes, it is." Sturm saw how he arched a skeptical eyeridge. She managed to hide a grin. "Here, let me show you."
She shuffled the snow about, piling it into heaps. Jubilant and [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=24664798]Polosim[/url] peered over her shoulder. "Ah, you're right! Why, it's not melting at all! A dragon could use these as--"
[i]WHAP![/i] And with that, the Mirror sent a snowball hurtling towards the mage's face. Her aim, honed by years of combat, was dead-on.
"You...Oh, [i]you[/i]...!" groaned Jubilant. Polosim backed away, roaring with laughter, as the Spiral peeled layers of snow off his face. But he was grinning, too. "Just you wait, Madam!"
"Bring it, you little scamp!" Sturm taunted him. Polosim lumbered away to look for shelter, chuckling all the while.
Anyone passing by would probably have been taken aback, seeing the seasoned warriors snowball-fighting like this -- but then, why shouldn't they play? They'd been working hard, and it was a festival, after all.
[center][item=Eternal Snow][item=Eternal Snow][item=Eternal Snow][item=Eternal Snow][item=Eternal Snow][/center]
[center][url=http://msb-lair.tumblr.com/post/138792766902/even-more-flight-dividers][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/e2ef31cd285982310ff93e3d1f5c0ec9/tumblr_inline_o23j4ayWtt1r3lvtf_500.png[/img][/url][/center]
[quote name="BogWytch" date="2018-02-03 08:50:01" ][center][size=2][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2357981/15#post_31585253][b]Day #7:[/b][/url][/size][/center]
[size=2]Today being the last day of the Winter Carnival, tell us about/make a list of which activities you did from day to day! With your writing, post a graphic of your favorite activity on the list.[/size][/quote]
Several of the Disillusionists had gone to the Southern Icefield to enjoy the Winter Carnival. By the time Day 7 rolled around, most of them had completed their chosen events, or significant portions thereof.
[center][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/fl8/2367732][img]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/0jkgzw8r0kylzty/hELdvFg.png[/img][/url][/center]
It was a monthly tradition for the clan's strongest fighters to battle monsters in a quest for deities' tokens. Sturmwelle had led her team, as usual, and they had returned with a haul of Eternal Snow, which would be stored in the Vault until next January (snowball fights notwithstanding).
[center][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/qnc/2263804][img]https://i.imgur.com/Gz4fgyz.png[/img][/url][item=Green and White Flair Scarf][/center]
An unlikely team had convened to participate in the Winter Olympics -- "unlikely" in that most of them weren't regarded as athletic or even capable of working together. They would have to nip back quickly for the closing ceremony, but for now most of them were happy to show off their participants' medals. Also, Metalicana had gotten a souvenir scarf shoved at him by one particularly plucky attendant.
[center][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2357981][img]https://i.imgur.com/2hxBqsD.png[/img][/url][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/forga/2357393][img]https://orig00.deviantart.net/39ab/f/2018/027/8/3/aaestill_by_alyxsandre-dc1dq51.png[/img][/url][/center]
Some of the more scholarly members of the clan had participated in carnival games, including the Archivist's Abstruse Enigma. They, too, were waiting for the event to conclude. As the Disillusionists stood around chatting, one of them said, "Is everyone here? Good! When the contests wrap up tonight, we can all go home and--"
"Wait, where's [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33029109]Faust[/url]?"
The dragons exchanged looks. They started muttering to each other. Then they remembered the letter that'd been delivered to them earlier in the day, and they had a look at it again--
[columns][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/forga/2357265][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/891df3a347db64fad9ec9a3b802b0f45/tumblr_inline_p2v6uaScJq1rns2ix_540.gif[/img][/url][nextcol]
[url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/forga/2357265/55#post_31580325][b]Wait, that dragon who volunteered for the magic box, she hasn't come back. SHE HASNT COME BACK. [i]TELL AIDAN S.O.S. PLS!!!!!!!![/i][/b][/url][/columns]
Skeptical looks were passed around again. "Anyone wanna go in there?" old Crystaline asked his lairmates. He blinked worriedly behind his goggles. "Um, [i]anyone[/i]??"
[right][color=gray][i]...The end?[/i][/color][/right]
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[center][color=#BBBABF][size=2][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/1#post_2323941]Contents[/url] • Characters [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/1#post_30507351]A-M[/url] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/1#post_30507353]N-Z[/url] • [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2323941/2#post_30507379]Supplemental Lore[/url][/size][/color][/center]
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winter carnival 2018 entries
Background: These short pieces were written for a Crystalline Gala event. They are 50-350 words long and revolve around prompts provided by the event hosts. Winning entries were chosen by RNG.
The following dragons (in order) have blurbs in this post:
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BogWytch wrote on 2018-01-28 08:24:54:
Pick a dragon from your Lair who likes attending winter carnival every year. Write about them inviting a friend with them, ànd what activities they enjoyed doing. Feel free to post what dragon you chose for the carnival, with your writing.
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Snow was a rarity in the Sunbeam Ruins, where the sun blazed nearly every day. Vanessa, having been born and reared there, had always thought of it as some exotic substance, like stardust from the Arcanist's lands or the pale grains that made up the Shifting Expanse's desert. Furthermore, while most babysitters fuel their charges' imaginations with stories, for Vanessa, it'd been the exact opposite: Her first three charges were hatchlings from the Southern Icefield, and she'd been entranced by their tales of soaring ice peaks, auroras lighting up the night, and of course,
snow.
The hatchlings had been anxious about living in a new land at first, but Vanessa had guided them up and down the steps of Mirrorlight Promenade and told them stories about the ruins. The children, aching for home, had listened closely to her tales, immersed themselves willingly in their bright new world. Those stories, tales of fantastic creatures and heroic dragons, had made it easier for them to settle into their new clan.
It was they who convinced the clan leaders to let Vanessa accompany them to the Winter Carnival -- her very first. Once there, the Skydancer had been entranced by...well,
everything. It was just as the kids had described: soaring peaks, glittering ice, auroras lighting up the heavens...and snow! Of
course there was snow! It was fluffy and clean and absolutely begging to be played with....
That snowball fight was a first for her, too. Afterwards, she wandered from stall to stall to experience the wonders of the carnival. This time it was her young charges who guided her, as eager to share their home with her as she'd shared hers with them.
These days, Vanessa has new charges. The original three hatchlings have grown and assumed responsibilities of their own. But every year when the frost closes in, they take Vanessa and the hatchlings to the Southern Icefield to experience the carnival in all its fun and delight. Hatchlings grow up and get jobs, have families...but the pull of home and the wonders that await there never really go away.
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BogWytch wrote on 2018-01-29 09:49:51:
The Same two dragons friends came to the carnival the 2nd day. Before they did they decided to invite one or two more friends. Write about who they chose and why? Did they do the same activities as the day before or all different ones. What type of winter carnival foods did they eat? Feel free to post a graphic/ photo of foods they ate, with your writing.
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Malkiriam was one of Vanessa's original three charges. The move to the Sunbeam Ruins had not affected her well -- she was photosensitive and the light burned her scales. For the first few weeks in her new home, she looked like a mummy, with peeling scales, trailing bandages, and pale, anxious eyes peering from deep within her cowl.
So she was relieved when Hiveriel suggested that they take Vanessa to the Winter Carnival. She missed the cool, clean air of her birthplace -- and best of all, the snow would soothe her parched skin.
Vanessa loves the snowball fights, but there are other wonders to be seen in the Carnival. She and the other hatchlings are led by Malkiriam into the funhouses, where they laugh at the optical illusions and make faces at the mirrors. Malkiriam is normally self-conscious, but here on her home turf, surrounded by friends, she can forget about the blazing sun and the scars on her scales. There's only the here and now of the Winter Carnival, and the face that looks back from the funhouse mirrors always bears a carefree smile.
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BogWytch wrote on 2018-01-30 09:48:15:
Pick a new dragon from your Lair who decided to go by themself. Little did they know a friend of theirs decides to on their own. As they were walking to the entrance they noticed each other. Describe what happens next. Were they excited to see each other. Did they decide to go their separate ways or do the same activities together. Feel free to post a picture of a winter carnival entrance or activity with your writing.
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The kingdom had always been dark....Dark, forbidding, with only occasional flashes of gold. Sometimes, if she'd been lucky, there had been flickers of gem-toned light. Fleeting, almost illusory -- but they'd drawn her up to the sun, where she could be away from her parents and the choking glamour they called a kingdom....
Now Aurelie stood, bemused, at the entrance to the Carnival. She'd slipped away on her own, curious about the celebrations everyone had been talking about. The place, she decided, was nearly an exact opposite of the Kingdom. Unlike that rainbow-tinted darkness, this place was mostly white, and blinding in its revelry. Almost gaudy. But the laughter rang true, and the smiles were brighter than any jewel could be. And more precious...Aurelie felt her heart warm, insulating her against the bitter chill.
She'd heard that the matron and three other clanmates had gone ahead; they were probably snowball-fighting somewhere. Maybe she could find them....She was quite surprised, then, when she saw the fiery Coatl wobbling and teetering from stall to stall. He was a familiar face.
"Grandfather."
"Mm?" Old Kyuchan turned around. "Oh, Aurelie! They told me you'd gone out somewhere, but I didn't think it'd be here....I thought someone as interested in treasure as yourself might've gone over to that game run by the Mirror.
Fortune's Game of...Fortune? Hmmm."
"Master Faustino is handling that one" --
probably very badly, Aurelie thought. The great Imperial didn't make friends easily. She wondered if she'd hear his screams of fury later on.
Kyuchan saw how she craned her head this way and that. The aged Coatl's face softened. "It's your first Carnival, is it?"
Aurelie nodded. She didn't notice, but her mouth was actually half-open in an eager smile.
Kyuchan grinned back. "I haven't been to one of these in years, but I think I've still got it in me to take on some of the games. You'd like that? --Maybe a little souvenir? Well, come on, young Aurelie, and let's try our luck! Your extraordinary nose led you here, so perhaps there
is treasure to be had...."
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BogWytch wrote on 2018-01-31 09:17:23:
At the carnival they have a Winter Olympics theme practice are. With the Winter Olympics coming up, pick a dragon from your Lair who has always dreamed of going. Describe What winter sport they chose, and what items from Brewing would help them with their training. Along with your writing post a graphic or two of what brewing items you chose, and why.
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Having been crippled since birth, Minuit could only observe other dragons as they walked and ran on their own strong legs. And not just walking and running -- also dancing, jumping, skiing, skating....His parents had hosted grand balls for the winter holidays. As a child, aided by his Squall Rasa, he had stumbled to the balustrade and peered down at the ballroom, wondering at the patterns the dragons traced across the floor.
He'd watched children of his age enjoy winter games, like snowball fights, but his favorite had been
skating. The patterns had closely mirrored the ones executed by ballroom dancers. Looking at his brothers and the other palace children gliding across the ice...He had envied them so deeply.
That had all been very long ago. Surely the magic of medicine had advanced since then? He remembered visiting the old Trading Post alchemist, seeing the recipes tacked onto the walls. There were wondrous stones that granted dragons special abilities....Could one of those heal him? A spell to boost his magical energy, another to heal his body, and yet another to give his wings grace and strength...and then maybe, just maybe, his dreams of dancing across the ice would become reality....
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BogWytch wrote on 2018-02-01 07:43:24:
Choose a different dragon, and describe after hanging out at the carnival not to far away from the exit gate they decide to rest at a long bench nearby. They sit there contemplating the day with the goodies they won from a couple of the games they played. Describe what games they played, and what prizes they won from Pinkerton’s plunder. Post a graphic with your writing what item was won.
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Although Crystaline had been born in the Southern Icefield, it'd been a long time since he'd visited there -- or anywhere, really. His old injuries had only become more pronounced with age, and the ache in his hide was nearly constant now.
So it had been a tremendous relief when, upon arriving, the cold air had leached into his skin. It had acted like a balm, cooling the old scars until there was only a dull buzz beneath the scales. Crystaline had found himself standing a little straighter. He felt more energized than he'd been in days. And looking at the other dragons at the Carnival, eager to test their prowess and luck, he'd felt -- dare he think it? -- more
competitive.
Perhaps he'd been competing against himself all along, against the ache that plagued his body. He'd tried many different games: the ring toss, the dunk tank, the shooting range....More often than not, he'd walked away empty-handed. But not always.
He couldn't help chuckling to himself as he surveyed his prizes. Mostly cheap trinkets, a few soft toys. Nothing that an engineer like himself could use. Still, they were valuable in another way: They'd shown him that despite his infirmities he could still confront a challenge -- and have fun doing it, too.
Besides, they weren't completely useless. There were bound to be hatchlings who'd love something new to play with. Crystaline smiled and patted the toys that lay on the bench beside him. His lairmates would be leaving the Carnival soon; all he had to do now was wait for them. As far as he was concerned, his day was done -- but what a rewarding one it'd been.
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BogWytch wrote on 2018-02-02 09:12:25:
One of the game options at the winter carnival was battling in the coliseum. Pick a dragon or two to describe their time battling at the coliseum. With your writing, post a graphic of what item(s) they may win at the end of a battle.
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Sturm wasn't the clan's oldest fighter, but she was the most experienced. She had started training from a young age, and when magic -- which she had so desperately wanted -- had failed to bloom within her, she had channeled her ferocity into melee combat instead.
She led the clan's fighting teams, and her teammates, both of whom were much younger than she was, looked up to her as a mentor and a fellow fighter. They had a great deal of respect for her -- reinforced by her usual expression, which was stern and unsmiling. Although sometimes...
"What do we do with all this snow?" asked
Jubilant. The Spiral was cradling a heap of snow in his arms, and his lower coils were wrapped around another pile. Sturmwelle could tell from the way the snow glistened that it was some of the Icewarden's Eternal tokens.
She shrugged. "Take it back to the lair and shove it into the Vault. The festival's nearly over. We can use it again next year."
"Next year?" Jubilant frowned. "So it's just gonna stay like this?"
"Yes, it is." Sturm saw how he arched a skeptical eyeridge. She managed to hide a grin. "Here, let me show you."
She shuffled the snow about, piling it into heaps. Jubilant and
Polosim peered over her shoulder. "Ah, you're right! Why, it's not melting at all! A dragon could use these as--"
WHAP! And with that, the Mirror sent a snowball hurtling towards the mage's face. Her aim, honed by years of combat, was dead-on.
"You...Oh,
you...!" groaned Jubilant. Polosim backed away, roaring with laughter, as the Spiral peeled layers of snow off his face. But he was grinning, too. "Just you wait, Madam!"
"Bring it, you little scamp!" Sturm taunted him. Polosim lumbered away to look for shelter, chuckling all the while.
Anyone passing by would probably have been taken aback, seeing the seasoned warriors snowball-fighting like this -- but then, why shouldn't they play? They'd been working hard, and it was a festival, after all.
BogWytch wrote on 2018-02-03 08:50:01:
Today being the last day of the Winter Carnival, tell us about/make a list of which activities you did from day to day! With your writing, post a graphic of your favorite activity on the list.
Several of the Disillusionists had gone to the Southern Icefield to enjoy the Winter Carnival. By the time Day 7 rolled around, most of them had completed their chosen events, or significant portions thereof.
It was a monthly tradition for the clan's strongest fighters to battle monsters in a quest for deities' tokens. Sturmwelle had led her team, as usual, and they had returned with a haul of Eternal Snow, which would be stored in the Vault until next January (snowball fights notwithstanding).
An unlikely team had convened to participate in the Winter Olympics -- "unlikely" in that most of them weren't regarded as athletic or even capable of working together. They would have to nip back quickly for the closing ceremony, but for now most of them were happy to show off their participants' medals. Also, Metalicana had gotten a souvenir scarf shoved at him by one particularly plucky attendant.
Some of the more scholarly members of the clan had participated in carnival games, including the Archivist's Abstruse Enigma. They, too, were waiting for the event to conclude. As the Disillusionists stood around chatting, one of them said, "Is everyone here? Good! When the contests wrap up tonight, we can all go home and--"
"Wait, where's
Faust?"
The dragons exchanged looks. They started muttering to each other. Then they remembered the letter that'd been delivered to them earlier in the day, and they had a look at it again--
Skeptical looks were passed around again. "Anyone wanna go in there?" old Crystaline asked his lairmates. He blinked worriedly behind his goggles. "Um,
anyone??"
...The end?
