FINALLY! I have 12 permababies and I've waited my whole life for this moment
Fairest of Them All
Jennie wasn’t always the clumsy, trusting guardian hatchling that now inhabits the clan.
It is said that there was once a skydancer. A great beauty among her peers, she was courted by many, coveted by all. But all the admiration just fed her ever growing ego, and little by little she became twisted. The great beauty began to dare the very gods.
She amassed many riches, gifts from her admirers and from those seeking her favor. And once she judged her fortune was enough, she went before the gods themselves. The vain beauty boldly sought to buy their favor, and as her ego grew so did their outrage. At last she demanded that she be made eternally young and beautiful, for no other could ever be as beautiful as her.
Enraged at the daring skydancer the gods decided to punish her, by granting her very wish. Eternally young, she was made into a hatchling again, and as her memories faded away she screeched at them for tricking her. As a final punishment, they turned her into a guardian – one of the very breeds she looked down on.
Finally appeased, the gods returned to their realms, leaving behind a small guardian, with no memory of the curse laid upon her.
Mirror, Mirror
At first the little guardian had no idea how she had gotten lost. Upon further thought, she also had no idea where she belonged to in the first place. The magic that turned her back had also erased her memory, and her small brain couldn’t possibly grasp the events that led her to her current situation.
With no clue of who or where she was, the little guardian found herself oddly drawn to her own reflection. Try as she might, she constantly found herself drawn back to it, so finally she gave up and made her way through the wilderness, following her own image as it flickered all around her.
And so she made her way to the icy domain of the Icewarden, dazzled by the ice walls and crystal caves that reflected a thousand times her own face at her, hundreds and hundreds of companions to a hatchling that only ever remembered being alone.
That was, until she suddenly found herself inside a lair that was very much occupied. Stumbling upon Cassandra’s clan, the small guardian was ecstatic to meet new friends, and despite protests eventually won the – very reluctant – affection of the matriarch herself. The queen suspected there was more about the small dragon than met the eye, but it was clear the little one had no more knowledge of her previous life than any of the clan members.
Given a simple name, Jennie was accepted into the clan. But sometimes word comes by of the vanished dragon. In those days, Jennie often founds herself staring into her own reflection, trying to see clearly the dragon that every so often flickers in her place as she stares into her own eyes.
Trying to find out more about the stranger that screams at her to let her out.
Sprite
In ancient times, the mythical and mysterious beings now known simply as Guardians were accepted as protectors of the clans, and venerated as much as the 11 deities. Then, old fisherdragons would often throw coins and trinkets in the water before an expedition or a voyage, in hopes of ensuring the Guardians favors and coming back safely.
During such times Nickel and her brethren would roam lakes and seas, collecting every bit of treasure and valuables, hoarding them int caves that dotted the ocean floor. Ironically enough such places were often targeted by the same fisherdragons, who sought their fortune in the treasure ridden caves among the darkness of the Tidelord's domain.
Nowadays the threat of the shade has dwindled, and dragons don't believe in protectors anymore. The deities themselves are merely seen as fierce overlords, but rare is the dragon to pray to them for help. Dragonkind has long learned that they are alone.
Although the Guardians still exist, they do so in secrecy, hidden away from the eyes of the common folk of Sornieth. Old tales of them still exist, but it's common knowledge that they are but myths. As such, there is little use for sprites such as Nickel.
Not quite alive, creatures such as her needed the collective belief in them in order to exist, their very existence tied to the treasure they kept and their purpose for existing. But no offering has been made in hundreds of years; slowly, the little sprites that once thrived simply ceased to be.
Nickels
One of the few remaining sprites, Nickel was drawn to the water surrounding the frozen wastelands belonging to the Icewarden. There, she found a clan where Guardians still thrived, fed by the magic in the artifacts kept by the clan, their purpose renewed in keeping such relics safe.
Not only that, but her new home was full of precious gems, jewel and treasure. None was ever offered to her, but anything within her reach was gladly accepted as an offering. Slowly, the little snapper began to build herself a new home, tucking away bits and pieces of gold and getting stronger with each coin.
After centuries lost, she had found a new purpose.
Tiny Ally
Whorl came to the Tempest Clan as a gift from diplomatic allies. The firstborn of the Godborn rulers, the small fae was sent to serve the queen and live with the Tempest clan as a show of friendship and good faith.
Although the clan - being mainly inhabited by imperials, skydancers and other larger breeds - had never had a fae among their ranks, Whorl's fellow clanmates tried their best to accommodate their tiny newcomer. No one was quite sure what size should his living quarters be, and at least he wouldn't eat too much, but the biggest problem was that there just wasn't anything such a tiny dragon could do.
Painter
Going from den to den trying to find a place and trade for himself, the fae finally found his calling upon seeing the intricate clay pots and sculptures created by Gaia and Kaolin.
Though Whorl's entire body could fit would plenty of space to spare inside one of the pots displayed, his smaller size proved useful somehow - he could paint exquisitely tiny and detailed patterns on the surfaces before him, sometimes using his whole body to trace patterns and filigrees to enhance the already precious creations.
Creating patterns not unlike those in his own body, Whorl gave color and life to the monochromatic creations by the imperials. To the relief of many he took up permanent residence inside the couple's workshop, where he resides inside a pot all for himself - quite roomy and with plenty of space to stretch if he says so himself.
Grown faes are hardly clumsy giants, but even so Whorl was miffed when his growth rate started getting in the way of his art. He couldn't draw lines as thin, and using a tiny paintbrush - hardly more than a few of Kaolin's hairs wrapped together - just wasn't the same.
Aware that such magic was possible if one had the means, the fae pleaded with the queen to award him with a scroll that could halt his growth and freeze his body into that of a hatchling.
Although the request was an odd one - but not the most outlandish the queen had ever heard, when one thought about it - the value of his work was undeniable.
To lose such an skilled artisan would require that smaller dragons be procured and trained, and the skydancer couldn't bear to think what might happen should the clan have any more of the tiny breed flying around - after all it was only a matter of time until, mistaken by a bug, one of them got eaten by a larger clanmate.
JENNIE wrote:
Fairest of Them All
Jennie wasn’t always the clumsy, trusting guardian hatchling that now inhabits the clan.
It is said that there was once a skydancer. A great beauty among her peers, she was courted by many, coveted by all. But all the admiration just fed her ever growing ego, and little by little she became twisted. The great beauty began to dare the very gods.
She amassed many riches, gifts from her admirers and from those seeking her favor. And once she judged her fortune was enough, she went before the gods themselves. The vain beauty boldly sought to buy their favor, and as her ego grew so did their outrage. At last she demanded that she be made eternally young and beautiful, for no other could ever be as beautiful as her.
Enraged at the daring skydancer the gods decided to punish her, by granting her very wish. Eternally young, she was made into a hatchling again, and as her memories faded away she screeched at them for tricking her. As a final punishment, they turned her into a guardian – one of the very breeds she looked down on.
Finally appeased, the gods returned to their realms, leaving behind a small guardian, with no memory of the curse laid upon her.
Mirror, Mirror
At first the little guardian had no idea how she had gotten lost. Upon further thought, she also had no idea where she belonged to in the first place. The magic that turned her back had also erased her memory, and her small brain couldn’t possibly grasp the events that led her to her current situation.
With no clue of who or where she was, the little guardian found herself oddly drawn to her own reflection. Try as she might, she constantly found herself drawn back to it, so finally she gave up and made her way through the wilderness, following her own image as it flickered all around her.
And so she made her way to the icy domain of the Icewarden, dazzled by the ice walls and crystal caves that reflected a thousand times her own face at her, hundreds and hundreds of companions to a hatchling that only ever remembered being alone.
That was, until she suddenly found herself inside a lair that was very much occupied. Stumbling upon Cassandra’s clan, the small guardian was ecstatic to meet new friends, and despite protests eventually won the – very reluctant – affection of the matriarch herself. The queen suspected there was more about the small dragon than met the eye, but it was clear the little one had no more knowledge of her previous life than any of the clan members.
Given a simple name, Jennie was accepted into the clan. But sometimes word comes by of the vanished dragon. In those days, Jennie often founds herself staring into her own reflection, trying to see clearly the dragon that every so often flickers in her place as she stares into her own eyes.
Trying to find out more about the stranger that screams at her to let her out.
NICKEL wrote:
Sprite
In ancient times, the mythical and mysterious beings now known simply as Guardians were accepted as protectors of the clans, and venerated as much as the 11 deities. Then, old fisherdragons would often throw coins and trinkets in the water before an expedition or a voyage, in hopes of ensuring the Guardians favors and coming back safely.
During such times Nickel and her brethren would roam lakes and seas, collecting every bit of treasure and valuables, hoarding them int caves that dotted the ocean floor. Ironically enough such places were often targeted by the same fisherdragons, who sought their fortune in the treasure ridden caves among the darkness of the Tidelord's domain.
Nowadays the threat of the shade has dwindled, and dragons don't believe in protectors anymore. The deities themselves are merely seen as fierce overlords, but rare is the dragon to pray to them for help. Dragonkind has long learned that they are alone.
Although the Guardians still exist, they do so in secrecy, hidden away from the eyes of the common folk of Sornieth. Old tales of them still exist, but it's common knowledge that they are but myths. As such, there is little use for sprites such as Nickel.
Not quite alive, creatures such as her needed the collective belief in them in order to exist, their very existence tied to the treasure they kept and their purpose for existing. But no offering has been made in hundreds of years; slowly, the little sprites that once thrived simply ceased to be.
Nickels
One of the few remaining sprites, Nickel was drawn to the water surrounding the frozen wastelands belonging to the Icewarden. There, she found a clan where Guardians still thrived, fed by the magic in the artifacts kept by the clan, their purpose renewed in keeping such relics safe.
Not only that, but her new home was full of precious gems, jewel and treasure. None was ever offered to her, but anything within her reach was gladly accepted as an offering. Slowly, the little snapper began to build herself a new home, tucking away bits and pieces of gold and getting stronger with each coin.
After centuries lost, she had found a new purpose.
WHORL wrote:
Tiny Ally
Whorl came to the Tempest Clan as a gift from diplomatic allies. The firstborn of the Godborn rulers, the small fae was sent to serve the queen and live with the Tempest clan as a show of friendship and good faith.
Although the clan - being mainly inhabited by imperials, skydancers and other larger breeds - had never had a fae among their ranks, Whorl's fellow clanmates tried their best to accommodate their tiny newcomer. No one was quite sure what size should his living quarters be, and at least he wouldn't eat too much, but the biggest problem was that there just wasn't anything such a tiny dragon could do.
Painter
Going from den to den trying to find a place and trade for himself, the fae finally found his calling upon seeing the intricate clay pots and sculptures created by Gaia and Kaolin.
Though Whorl's entire body could fit would plenty of space to spare inside one of the pots displayed, his smaller size proved useful somehow - he could paint exquisitely tiny and detailed patterns on the surfaces before him, sometimes using his whole body to trace patterns and filigrees to enhance the already precious creations.
Creating patterns not unlike those in his own body, Whorl gave color and life to the monochromatic creations by the imperials. To the relief of many he took up permanent residence inside the couple's workshop, where he resides inside a pot all for himself - quite roomy and with plenty of space to stretch if he says so himself.
Grown faes are hardly clumsy giants, but even so Whorl was miffed when his growth rate started getting in the way of his art. He couldn't draw lines as thin, and using a tiny paintbrush - hardly more than a few of Kaolin's hairs wrapped together - just wasn't the same.
Aware that such magic was possible if one had the means, the fae pleaded with the queen to award him with a scroll that could halt his growth and freeze his body into that of a hatchling.
Although the request was an odd one - but not the most outlandish the queen had ever heard, when one thought about it - the value of his work was undeniable.
To lose such an skilled artisan would require that smaller dragons be procured and trained, and the skydancer couldn't bear to think what might happen should the clan have any more of the tiny breed flying around - after all it was only a matter of time until, mistaken by a bug, one of them got eaten by a larger clanmate.
Ashton
