Creative Corner

@DeathPhoenix

Starstrider:
First roll: 9
Second roll: 17
Third roll: 13
You get: a drabble about an item of high significance

Cling, serpent.

Cling to those fragments. You were born in plague, and thus born to survive. The horror of what you may be will split your skull and sunder your bones, but you will survive to see the dawn.

Hold fast, serpent. What can you remember? Sisters, three, each as reckless, relentless, and wild as the last. You tore through the wildlands, laughing and kicking; you loved for your freedom, for the power of your wings.

Hold. What longing crosses your twisted maw? What memory do you seek? None could stop you, although cruel you were not; if you stole, you took enough to live (and what is life but a thin veneer over death?). The blood through your veins, the breath in your teeth - what need, magic, when you could so prize your own mortality?

Speak, serpent. What regrets shiv’r over your tongues? What language is this that you speak, broken and old? Of old, you slept hard at the ends of the days, valuing as best you could the seconds striking down. Then, your wings were weighed not by crystal and opal, agate and amethyst; your bodies were whole, but they struck you down.

They struck you down, I see it now - the sword, impaled through your body. It struck - yes, first your sister, flying high above, brought her screeching to earth - struck the other sister as she raced to intercept. And you, the youngest, it sundered third on that bloody day, in a too-blue sky - and in your dying breaths, thus mixed your blood and fused your mind.

O emperor!

I see you here, splintered and mourning - your mind is the strongest, but not for long. Go ahead, then. Pick up the thing that sent you spiraling. Feel its weight, heft in in your claws. A sword of silver, slick with curses and ill intent. This thing is far from sacred. This thing is far from kind.

Yet you will make it yours, again.

@Shadowkitty9 Claire rolled: 8 You get: ~8-line blank verse poem Voids in your eyes, Crystals in your teeth. Careful, young one, Sundered from the world. Even the softest May grow thorned. Bless, breathe, let go, release. You shall behold, and be, And be. [emoji=pink star size=1]

@LittleRain

Lilith rolled: 18
You get: a journal entry written by the traveler Tasha Secondsmith

Date unknown
Location: The Viridian Labyrinth

I have stuck to traveling by foot for the past day. Terrible storms have brooded overhead, making the trees shiver, but oddly not much rain has fallen - not that I can complain, but the humidity saps the willpower, makes the limbs grow tired quickly. If not from the adrenaline from my - former encounter - and my will to make it to the Great Tree within another day, I surely would be resting by a roadside far from here.

But I digress.

As I write, I have made a temporary companion, of sorts. By nightfall, I had made it quite a ways into the dense woodland when I came upon a clearing, lit by pale lilies glowing by the fickle moonlight. There, by a tiny waterfall that eddied swiftly into water as smooth as glass, stood a skydancer with a lantern strung on a pole. She did not hear me, at first, but turned as I drew closer.

Ah. Her voice echoed in my mind as she gave a soft, sideways smile. Have you, too, come to see the water?

“Is there anything important about it?” The words, as they came out of my mouth, sounded stilted and odd in the silence around us, but as I drew level I could not help but gaze more curiously. The water was crystal clear, I should think, but I could not see to the bottom.

She turned with me, peered across the banks. Perhaps. As much significance as you assign it. But look. She gestured, and an airy swirl of light flickered through her claws, drifting towards me. And, for a moment, I saw ghostly figures - many dragons, over many eons, each kneeling through the water, raising a pawful to their lips for a taste.

Curious, I knelt too. “Others came here. Seekers? But for what?”

She rested, too, graceful. What would you come seeking, monk?

“Me?” My eyes drifted to the water. “I’m not sure what I would have wanted in the past. But all I want now…” I hesitated, unsure if I should finish the thought, but somehow she felt trustworthy enough, though we’d only just met. Strange, I know. “I want knowledge. I want to find my wife.”

Her eyes, so close, were serene and still. Then drink, monk.

Drinking from unknown sources is never good in any story. But I needed to believe this could help. I would do anything to find her. So I did. The water was tasteless, neither warm nor cold, but it felt invigorating as I drank.

If it gave knowledge, however, I have not received it yet.

She is still sitting there as I write this. I will camp here for the night, then continue onwards. But I wonder. What did she see within that still stream?

@Khiyah Glad you liked it! You may use it however you wish~ [emoji=coatl happy size=1]

@SilverSilver thanks!

@Glacierstar :D Detritus rolled: a CRITICAL HIT! [emoji=gaoler scared size=2] This means you get to choose whichever option you'd like from the list of possible outcomes! Just ping me to let me know which one you would like~!

@silversilver
:OO
3 headcanons please :D

@silversilver I'd love to roll a die for this boy: [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=34517816] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/345179/34517816_350.png[/img] [/url]

@Skydust

Evanescence:
Rolled a CRITICAL HIT
Chose: a journal entry written by the traveler Tasha Secondsmith

Date Unknown
Location: The Viridian Labyrinth, within the Shrieking Wilds

I know I am growing closer to my goal. Of course, as a result, now the rains have begun to fall.

This deep within the Wilds, nonetheless, the trees provide some measure of protection from the elements - but the beasts have been belligerent and restless. How many Parda and Barkback Boars have I had to fend off so far? Too many, it seems, though I am more than a match for the likes of them.

I cannot see the Behemoth, the Great Tree, but I can feel its presence - slow, careful, and watchful. You are never truly alone here, not with the trees marking your passage. My contact told me that Ravi would be there - or that I would find record of her passage at its roots. I hope for the latter, but I cannot think of what she would be doing here - blacksmiths and those otherwise aligned with fire tend to fare poorly in the Gladekeeper’s domain.

But, for now, I am alone.

As I traveled through the valley, I came across a natural ridge of sheer stone, cutting its way beside the path like a wall. Over-strewn as it was with vines and flowering things, I could still see the stone itself - dark, glossy, and smooth. Obsidian would be my guess, although how it came to be here, so far from volcanic activity, is beyond me. The path ran alongside it, for far longer than I could see, but I decided to pay no mind to its presence - I was in a hurry, after all.

After several minutes of walking, I took note of how the texture of the stone had changed - now unnaturally smooth and mirror-like, something that could not have been formed naturally. I could see a reflection of myself, of sorts, though foggy and colorless. Pausing, I stared at it for a long moment before pushing aside my unease. I am not afraid of this, I told myself. I am a member of a clan in the shadowlands. I fear no darkness.

Yet, as I kept walking, my eyes kept tracking back to the stone - and the longer I walked, the more I fancied that the reflection took on an appearance all its own. Still a pearlcatcher, yes, but - with every step I took - cobwebs shimmered along its wings, dark hair tangled along its feet. Flowers, frail and delicate, bloomed at its brow.

Then I saw it look at me and open its mouth, wordless. I froze.

I - go - mourn - save me -

I turned, stepped closer to the glossy stone. “You are not a reflection,” I murmured. “Who are you?”

It - she - stepped forward too, raising her paw a half-beat after I raised mine. She tilted her head, whiskers drooping, before proffering her pearl to me. My knapsack, where I keep my own, seemed to grow heavier. But I could sense no presence of any living thing.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t think you’re really here.”

She shook her head and held out the pearl, shaking it more vigorously. This action seemed to take all of her strength, though, for her outline began to grow blurry - and before I could make up my mind if I should reach out or not, she disappeared.

I placed my talons to the wall. It was solid, cold under my scales. But most certainly, I was alone.

Let us hope that is not an ill premonition for what I am about to find before me.

@spaderslick Galamore - First roll: 6 Second roll: [b]20[/b] Why, Lady Luck has smiled upon you, for your second roll is a CRITICAL HIT! [emoji=spiral scared size=2] This means you get to choose what I write for you from the list of possible outcomes! Just ping me to let me know what you'd like~