Quests & Challenges

@alrydae [img]https://media.giphy.com/media/8fen5LSZcHQ5O/giphy.gif[/img]

[center][img]http://flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=1&body=84&bodygene=5&breed=5&element=3&gender=1&tert=128&tertgene=1&winggene=13&wings=144&auth=c5375604a4c327e1bab5474f6bf3d14ea99f28e5&dummyext=prev.png[/img] [center][item=luna mith][/center] [center]Her familiar flies, because of course. They drift on the breeze and wander from shore to shore. The cheery notes of Andante's cornet announce her arrival; she sings tales of faraway places. Her Luna Mith does not sing or play an instrument, but his wings hum a gentle melody, a harmony to her words.[/center]

Almost forgot today! Okay here we go: [item=clouddancer] It's not her pet, it just ambushed her from the clouds one day then discovered "ooh, heat source!" and went all cuddly and started following her around. It's not really useful for anything, but, well, it is nice to have some company when she's out. And it shares its food as often as it steals from hers. And it's really [i]very[/i] soft and fluffy when it comes to huddling for warmth. And it bristles and snaps at annoying dragons she has to be polite to... ...And she let it come home with her and sleep in her bed and pets it and pretends not to be pleased when it won't play with anyone else but it's not her [i]pet[/i], she doesn't need pets, it's just... slightly tame. And one-dragon-centric. And if it keeps dive-bombing her golem she'll teach it to measure flight paces to take the golem's place.

She would have a [item=gusting goblin]! Since she's not old enough to have been around for previous MJ's, when she met this year's familiar, she instantly fell in love! Her goblin, Mica, and she play games that mostly involve Mica zipping around and Willowaw following at a more leisurely pace. Hide and Seek, for example! Mica curls up beside the bogsneak at night, and Willowaw tells her stories, and plays lullabies for her familiar.

[img]http://flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=1&body=84&bodygene=9&breed=9&element=3&gender=1&tert=128&tertgene=15&winggene=1&wings=144&auth=ac55183b04560f090de432fef2e4859b6e149f48&dummyext=prev.png[/img] [item=glasswing flutter] Here is Khalidah, a Snapper named after the Enteral Wind. She is a recorder keeper, keeping track of anything the wind might bring her. Khalidah's familiar is a Glasswing Flutter named Kin-ja. The two met on a breezy day. The little Glasswing was fluttering around, trying to stay airborne. With all hope lost, the little Flutter crashed into a sleeping Khalidah. The impact was so harsh that the Glasswing broke one of his wings. Although not her fault, Khalidah felt extremely guilty and vowed to care for the creature until it could fly again. Khalidah named the Glasswing Kin-ja, for no particular reason that it sounded fitting. Much unlike herself, Kin-ja is shy, timid, but very bold whenever Khalidah is threatened. He is her only protector, for he will viciously attack anything that might cause harm to his dear Khalidah. Although they have different personalities, Kin-ja is ever grateful to Khalidah for tending to him when he was hurt. He helps her by bringing her gifts, occasionally delivering scrolls, and spending quality time with her.

[center][item=Tradewinds Gull][/center] This would be Kokyu's familiar because she loves having Pen Pals to complain to about the freezing cold of the Icefields or to just send out-of-flight friends random gifts. After all, she can't quite fit in with my clan's very militant attitude and somewhat despairing situation having to fight the Forgotten; she loves being social and staying connected to the outside world.

[img]http://i.imgur.com/7AGqN22.png[/img] [columns][center][img]http://i.imgur.com/Jjj405I.jpg[/img][/center][nextcol] [center][img]http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/flightrising/images/8/84/Peacock_Firebird.png[/img][/center][/columns] [center]--[/center] [i]The winds of fate were blowing the day Anemone met Loash. It is something she thinks about often in the quiet moments when she has bedded down for the night and Loash is curled up nearby in the blanket nest she crafted for him. If she hadn’t been tired and decided to pay for lodging, if she hadn’t grown curious and decided to investigate the nearby market, if she hadn’t caught the scent of roasting crickets and been drawn further down the aisle in an attempt to find the stall where it was being sold…indeed chance and fate had conspired.[/i] Anemone’s stomach gurgles and she takes another deep sniff, swallowing as saliva pools beneath her tongue. She honestly can’t remember when she last ate, but once she finds the source of that delicious smell, she plans to fix that. There is a nutty undertone to the aroma that makes her think she’ll find roasted crickets. She is walking down the aisle of stalls, the air filled with the low murmur of conversations and the occasional shout as someone advertises their wares when a strong breeze swirls past. As a Mistral the winds tend to carry things to her, be it small flowers, bits of grass, or the occasional interesting conversation. Anemone comes to a stop as she hears the harsh back and forth of a whispered argument. “This is not what you promised me. I paid a fortune for a Mock Firebird egg, not this thing. I want my money back.” “I’m afraid you are mistaken. I promised you a Firebird. I never specified what kind you were getting.” “Unbelievable. Do you honestly think I’m going to let you get away with this? We’ll see if you have a stall by the end of the day.” “Please do, and while you are talking to the authorities, I wonder how you will explain your attempted purchase of a protected species? One that I never claimed to have.” A pause. “Don’t blame me for your inability to pay attention. Now take your purchase and leave.” “What am I supposed to do with this chick now?” There is a soft thump, followed by a faint chirp. “It isn’t worth a tenth of what I was promised.” “That is not my problem. If you are determined to rid yourself of the creature that you paid for, I would suggest selling it to the meat stall down the aisle. They are truly creative in their efforts to prepare a decent meal.” A growl starts low in Anemone’s gut and climbs, growing deeper and louder until her jaw parts to loose a bone rattling snarl. Nearby shoppers startle and drop their packages, bewildered by the sudden surge of wind that has ripped through the market aisle. Stall owners cry out in dismay as their display tables tip, some managing to catch them in time. Anemone ignores the ruckus, striding towards the source of the argument she’d overheard. The wind had come from this direction and she had heard the calls of a barker selling uncut gemstones layered beneath the horrendous whispers. She saw the booth promising gems, which means next to it-- Without pausing Anemone darts past the curtain concealing the rest of the booth and slams into another Skydancer. He yelps in surprise, fumbling the small box in his hands. Anemone doesn’t hesitate. She unleashes another snarl that is echoed by a surge of wind, sending the curtain flapping, and snatches the box out of his claws. Before he can react, staring at her in shock, she reaches to her belt and tugs loose the small pouch of gems she had kept in case she found more materials for her totems. She shoves the pouch into the Skydancer’s chest, having moved past snarling into a continuous hiss that drags at her words when she speaks. “Not another word. Thisss hatchling isss mine. Thirty gemsss to cover the cossst.” The customer gapes at her, his jaw dropping open before he manages to rally. His crest feathers widen in outrage. “How dare you! Give me that box at once ---” Anemone abruptly leans in, making him jump back. Her wings are half mantled and she is sorely tempted to bite him, or shred the feathers of his crest until they hang limp, or even better, pull them out entirely. “Thirty gemsss for the hatchling. Or I take back my gemsss and keep the hatchling. Either way, the little one comesss with me.” She doesn’t wait for a response. With one scathing glare at the proprietor, she makes a point to memorize the look of him, a Spiral with scales in various shades of greens and blues, and then she is stomping out of the stall. Another gush of wind rips the curtain away and she hears the Spiral’s loud exclamation and she is viciously glad for it. She doesn’t remember passing back through the market, is distantly aware that there had been a lot of wind and dragons yelling. It’s only once she gets back to her temporary den and has slammed the carefully fitted door behind her that she manages to let go of some of the rage. Taking deep breaths she attempts to calm down. She knows she can’t afford to lose her temper like that, not as a Mistral. But still the anger lingers. It helps that she can feel something move within the box, and there is a muted cheep from within. Carrying the box with her, Anemone settles amongst the cushions of her nest-bed. She takes a moment to breath in and out, reminding herself that wind is the breath of all, and then she opens the box. The chick is tiny, would easily fit in the palm of her narrow hand, and is surrounded by the remains of its egg. There has been no attempt made to keep the newly hatched chick warm. It is pressed into the corner of the box and trembling, still bleary-eyed from hatching and covered in the damp blue fuzz of a Peacock Firebird hatchling. It is blind, she knows, so she hums a soft croon in an attempt to soothe it. At the sound of her croon, it makes another tentative chirp. Moving slowly so as not to startle it Anemone strokes the little one’s head with a single finger. “You look like a Loash. Hi Loash, I’m Anemone. You ready to see the world with me?” There is another chirp and the chick opens its beak in an age old request. Anemone laughs and strokes Loash’s damp side. “Of course. Well, let’s get you cleaned up and see about getting you fed.” She gives the chick a sheepish smile, even though she knows it can’t see it. “Hopefully I have something here since I don’t think I will be welcome back at that market any time soon.” Her smile turns softer, a little bitter around the edges but still warm. “I think I can live with that.” [center]--[/center] [center][i]Post Vista by [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2021835#post_2021835]Mibella[/url][/i][center]

[center][IMG]http://i.imgur.com/L6uAInG.jpg[/IMG] [b]Kachine[/b] [i]Sacred Dancer[/i] [item=Ball-jointed bogsneak][/center] While some onlookers might find the image of a stringless marionette gliding through the air to be strange if not downright bizarre, Kachine feels such a close connection with her [b]Ball-jointed Bogsneak[/b] that she's developed a familiar bond to it. Kachine herself was born from a lovingly crafted kite imbued with a little bit too much wind magic, and in the end made it her goal to spread the zealous joy that she felt from her creators to all corners of Sornieth. When she discovered during her journeys that other enchanted objects had developed personalities of their own, she instantly felt a connection to them. Tinker, her bogsneak marionette, was originally a toy abandoned on the ground after the end of a great festival. Kachine noticed the poor thing when she flew overhead. Somehow, the thought of a toy meant to bring joy to young dragons being left behind struck a terrible chord with Kachine, and she scooped the doll onto her back to keep her company during her travels. Kachine continued to follow the winds for weeks on end, dancing through the sky on gales and gusts, painting smiles on the faces of dragons who heard her tinkling bells and who raced with her across the sky to the edges of their territories. Whenever she was alone, she would hum the melodies of the breeze to little Tinker; would hold his wooden frame in her two front talons and let her magic carry them across the sky. One day, Tinker slipped out from between Kachine's claws and hurtled toward the ground. He hit the raw rock of Earth Flight territory with a sickening [i]crunch.[/i] He splintered into a thousand tiny pieces. Kachine was devastated. Slowly, she allowed herself to sink down from the sky and touch the ground for the first time in ages. She gathered Tinker's tiny splinters in her claws, treating each speck of wood with the same tender love and care that she could remember her own creators treating her with so long ago. She let out a great, heaving sigh, her breath infused with the green tinted magic of the Wind Flight. To her awe, the splinters took on the green hue of her magic. The pile of wood in her hands grew lighter, and quivered ever so slightly as individual wood scraps were drawn together by an invisible force. Before her eyes, her bogsneak puppet rose out of the splinters and into the air, twitching its wings and letting out a creak as it stretched its arms and legs for the first time. ------------------------- Nowadays, whenever a clan is graced with the tinkling of bells and a joyful sky bound dance, a second free spirited soul can be seen twisting about, weaving around a brilliant orange coatl that exudes a contagious happiness to all who see her fly. The bringer of mirth has never been more content. [center][img]http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/flightrising/images/e/e7/Ball-Jointed_Bogsneak.png[/img][/center]

[center][img]http://image.prntscr.com/image/ada7ca7d0f274f9990f3f56a14ba56e8.png[/img][/center] On the first day of Mistral Jamboree Frolic was irresistibly drawn to the Festive Favors tent where she fell in love with the smallest Gusting Goblin. She just won't stop chattering about it, and visiting 10 times a day, so I guess she needs a [center][item=gusting Goblin][/center]