I got a little bit of lore to share!
I recently wrote a kind of prologue that's meant to inform a few things about my clan leader, Striker:
She's mostly in the background in the events that take place with the clan, but she has her own concerns and goals that she's working towards. Are they selfish? For the betterment of the clan? Inspired or misguided? All these thing and more, whenever I get around to writing it.
Here's the prologue, please excuse me for grammatical errors and stuff, English is not my first language:
I recently wrote a kind of prologue that's meant to inform a few things about my clan leader, Striker:
She's mostly in the background in the events that take place with the clan, but she has her own concerns and goals that she's working towards. Are they selfish? For the betterment of the clan? Inspired or misguided? All these thing and more, whenever I get around to writing it.
Here's the prologue, please excuse me for grammatical errors and stuff, English is not my first language:
Quote:
As moonlight flitted through the racing clouds, the mirror could see the full extent of the devastation. Glacial shards stuck out from between huge boulders covered by a growing layer of snow, as the arctic storm raged on around it. A frozen wasteland that showed no sign of life, save for the young dragon standing at its edge.
Slowly she let herself sink down in the snow. Wings wrapped around her lithe body, she rested her head on her front legs and closed her eyes. She didn’t react to the snow piling around her or seek shelter from the piercing winds. Soon only a vague dark outline in the snow hinted at there being a dragon there.
She was woken from her half frozen stupor by the sound of a heavy thump. Sluggishly she lifted her head, making a dazed effort to brush the snow off of her. As she started to move, the feeling of cold that she’d grown numb to while lying down returned. The dragon managed to stumble into the shelter of a stone slab, where she curled up and lay shivering. The thump repeated, a little closer this time. The young mirror risked a peak around the rock and saw, to her astonishment, a familiar shape, collapsed on the ice. She headed over to it at once, given new strength by what she saw.
The other dragon was a mirror like her, but much larger. Although his appearance was hard to distinguish beneath the dirt and frozen blood that coated his body, the smell he gave off told her that this was a member of her clan. She nudged him, trying to heave him back on his legs.
“Ngg. Leave it..,” came a weak reply. “..Let me rest..”
The smaller mirror refused. “Get up. You’ll die if you lie down now. You’ve got to move.”
The other dragon turned over with an irritated grunt, but on her persistent shoving and pushing he relented and hauled himself onto his feet. “Fff-f-f n-nn--now wh-what?,” he shivered, while she put her shoulders under his. “This way.” She gestured to her shelter with her snout. “We’ll be safe from the storm.”
The pair made its way over with much annoyed muttering from the large dragon, but he let her support him. When they’d settled, she crept up against him. “We need to preserve our warmth,” she stated before he could complain. A crooked grin crossed the his scarred features.
“H-ha! An-nd there I th-thought, y-you wanted to help me out of c-c-compassion. You j-just need me to survive.”
The small mirror’s expression was blank. “So do you. We use each other, better chance of survival.” She let her head down without a word and fell into slumber. The large dragon regarded her curiously. A minute ago he’d been beyond all care, which he still was to an extent, and here this half-grown whelp talked about survival.
His body felt heavy all of a sudden, as weariness overtook his thoughts, and he too closed his eyes and slept.
The next day the storm had ceased. A small springtime sun cast its rays over the countryside, turning it into a bright snowy landscape. What had remained of the disaster area was covered in snow, a tragedy erased by nature. A snowy rabbit carefully hopped its way across, completely unaware of the two dragons who followed its movements from a rocky outcrop.
“You’d never tell, would you? How many lives lie buried beneath that pleasant view?,” the small one remarked.
The large mirror, now visibly a horrifying mess of mud-caked gashes and rusty stains, let out a deep sigh and turned away.
“Thinking about it is useless. They’re gone, we’re here, and that’s the thing that counts. Let’s get out of here, I’m not spending another night on this cursed plain.” But his newfound companion didn’t move. “Why would he do this?,” she asked, seemingly to no one in particular. A look of confusion crossed the large mirrors face. “What do you mean? Who did what?”
“Our deity, the Icewarden. He controls the Icefield, so why didn’t he do anything to intervene? Why couldn’t he have sent a warning to the oracle, or stop the landslide with his powers?”
When she turned to look at him, he could see that she was close to tears. Somewhat startled, the large mirror did his best to come up with an explanation. “Uumm.. well, maybe, he didn’t know either? I mean, I’ve never seen him, or heard of dragons who’ve spoken to him, he probably doesn’t even know we exist. And like, sometimes stuff just happens, you know.” He scratched uneasily at one of his wounds. “What I mean is, I don’t think it was any of our fault. We just happened to get lucky when the others.. did not.”
The small mirror sat silently for a while, before regaining her composure. When she next spoke, she did so without a trace of sadness.
“You’re probably right. Let’s go then, far away from here. Maybe we can find a clan that will take us in. Are you good to walk?”
The other mirror tried to shrug, then winced in pain. “As good as I’ll ever be, I guess. It takes more than a bunch of rocks to cripple me. I’ll manage, you lead the way.”
And with that they headed north, never to return.
Slowly she let herself sink down in the snow. Wings wrapped around her lithe body, she rested her head on her front legs and closed her eyes. She didn’t react to the snow piling around her or seek shelter from the piercing winds. Soon only a vague dark outline in the snow hinted at there being a dragon there.
She was woken from her half frozen stupor by the sound of a heavy thump. Sluggishly she lifted her head, making a dazed effort to brush the snow off of her. As she started to move, the feeling of cold that she’d grown numb to while lying down returned. The dragon managed to stumble into the shelter of a stone slab, where she curled up and lay shivering. The thump repeated, a little closer this time. The young mirror risked a peak around the rock and saw, to her astonishment, a familiar shape, collapsed on the ice. She headed over to it at once, given new strength by what she saw.
The other dragon was a mirror like her, but much larger. Although his appearance was hard to distinguish beneath the dirt and frozen blood that coated his body, the smell he gave off told her that this was a member of her clan. She nudged him, trying to heave him back on his legs.
“Ngg. Leave it..,” came a weak reply. “..Let me rest..”
The smaller mirror refused. “Get up. You’ll die if you lie down now. You’ve got to move.”
The other dragon turned over with an irritated grunt, but on her persistent shoving and pushing he relented and hauled himself onto his feet. “Fff-f-f n-nn--now wh-what?,” he shivered, while she put her shoulders under his. “This way.” She gestured to her shelter with her snout. “We’ll be safe from the storm.”
The pair made its way over with much annoyed muttering from the large dragon, but he let her support him. When they’d settled, she crept up against him. “We need to preserve our warmth,” she stated before he could complain. A crooked grin crossed the his scarred features.
“H-ha! An-nd there I th-thought, y-you wanted to help me out of c-c-compassion. You j-just need me to survive.”
The small mirror’s expression was blank. “So do you. We use each other, better chance of survival.” She let her head down without a word and fell into slumber. The large dragon regarded her curiously. A minute ago he’d been beyond all care, which he still was to an extent, and here this half-grown whelp talked about survival.
His body felt heavy all of a sudden, as weariness overtook his thoughts, and he too closed his eyes and slept.
The next day the storm had ceased. A small springtime sun cast its rays over the countryside, turning it into a bright snowy landscape. What had remained of the disaster area was covered in snow, a tragedy erased by nature. A snowy rabbit carefully hopped its way across, completely unaware of the two dragons who followed its movements from a rocky outcrop.
“You’d never tell, would you? How many lives lie buried beneath that pleasant view?,” the small one remarked.
The large mirror, now visibly a horrifying mess of mud-caked gashes and rusty stains, let out a deep sigh and turned away.
“Thinking about it is useless. They’re gone, we’re here, and that’s the thing that counts. Let’s get out of here, I’m not spending another night on this cursed plain.” But his newfound companion didn’t move. “Why would he do this?,” she asked, seemingly to no one in particular. A look of confusion crossed the large mirrors face. “What do you mean? Who did what?”
“Our deity, the Icewarden. He controls the Icefield, so why didn’t he do anything to intervene? Why couldn’t he have sent a warning to the oracle, or stop the landslide with his powers?”
When she turned to look at him, he could see that she was close to tears. Somewhat startled, the large mirror did his best to come up with an explanation. “Uumm.. well, maybe, he didn’t know either? I mean, I’ve never seen him, or heard of dragons who’ve spoken to him, he probably doesn’t even know we exist. And like, sometimes stuff just happens, you know.” He scratched uneasily at one of his wounds. “What I mean is, I don’t think it was any of our fault. We just happened to get lucky when the others.. did not.”
The small mirror sat silently for a while, before regaining her composure. When she next spoke, she did so without a trace of sadness.
“You’re probably right. Let’s go then, far away from here. Maybe we can find a clan that will take us in. Are you good to walk?”
The other mirror tried to shrug, then winced in pain. “As good as I’ll ever be, I guess. It takes more than a bunch of rocks to cripple me. I’ll manage, you lead the way.”
And with that they headed north, never to return.
