Quests & Challenges

@SporkLord This whole 'get out of the operating room and get some fresh air' thing was starting to look like a mistake. Dr. Krova made his way through the garden of pustules, turned around and more than a little lost. He had left his office and operating room behind for once to attend a medical meeting that had been thrown in honor of the Riot of Rot, but somewhere, somehow, he'd taken a wrong turning and now he was wandering aimlessly on top of the Rotrock Rim. He wasn't worried though, there were still interesting things to see and explore and he knew he'd find his way back eventually. He had just decided to abandon the trail he was on and try a different direction when he heard a whimper of pain from beneath some nearby pustules. Intrigued, he bent down to get a closer look and found a red snapper curled up and hiding from the sun. "Are you hurt?" He asked, "Because I'm a doctor and can help if you need it." The snapper looked up at him with some suspicion. "Why are you wearing that mask?" The snapper asked. Dr. Krova felt something inside him go tense. No, no, couldn't let [i]him[/i] out, now was not a good time. It took a moment to relax enough to find his voice. "That's none of your business, now would you like help or not?" The snapper finally sighed and extended his leg. "It hurts really bad. I might have broken it." Dr. Krova examined the limb. He got out his medical supplies and set about fixing what he could. When he was done he'd fashioned a splint for the Snapper's leg which gave enough support for him to walk. The snapper took a few hesitant steps before smiling in relief. "This'll be enough for me to get back to my clan. Thank you for your help doctor! Here, please take this as a gesture of thanks." And the snapper handed him.... [center][item=gold muck][/center]

@chatoyant This was the Best. Idea. Ever. Citrine zoomed above the Scarred Wasteland, the thermals created from the baking sand below creating a veritable obstacle course of air currents and drafts that she rode with excitement and absolute delight. She climbed high above the reddish clouds and then dove straight toward the earth below, picking up speed until she felt like she was going faster than she'd ever had before. She pulled out of the dive at the last instant and cackled with joy as she sent a herd of surprised centaurs into a panicked gallop. She raced them just to see if she could, weaving in and out of the galloping beastclan before finally pulling ahead and leaving them far behind. Up ahead the Rotrock Rim appeared above the horizon. Citrine knew as soon as she saw it than she was going to scale its heights. She flew into its shadow and then straight up. And up, and up, and up! It was like it would never end. She skimmed close to the side, trying to pick up speed as she gained altitude. There, up ahead, the edge of the rim approached. She went even faster! And then, just as she was about to crest the top, her wingtip snagged in some protruding vine-like roots and sent her crashing into the side of the plateau. Her momentum carried her skidding up and over the rim where she finally landed in a heap. When Citrine came to, a mirror was staring down at her. Her head absolutely ached! The mirror offered her some water and then helped her sit up. "Hello," he said. "I found you tangled up in these roots. You had a pretty nasty head injury so I patched you up as best I could. Um...." he hesitated, seeming reluctant to bring something up. "You sort of, well, here," he held up a mirror. "Honestly I think it makes you look rather dashing." Citrine looked at her reflection and saw [center][item=veteran's eye scar][/center]

@CrazyassBat Conlaoch tripped over yet [i]another[/i] rock. Maybe the mushrooms had made him woozy because it seemed harder than usual to keep his balance. He shook his head, trying to get his focus back. There had to be something interesting out here that others before him had missed. He searched among the scattered stones and boulders, finding some insects and fungi but nothing worth taking. He wasn't really interested in food right now anyway, especially when it wasn't something he could hunt down and kill. Suddenly a glitter of light caught his eye. He cocked his head, trying to figure out what had caused the reflection since as soon as he'd moved it had gotten lost in the landscape of dull rock. He moved this way and that and then there! He caught the sparkle again! This time he was able to follow it to its source behind a large boulder. Whatever it was, it was covered in a pile of loose stones. He began to dig into the pile, hoping that whatever it was was worth all this effort. Finally he uncovered his find. It was a... [center][item=gilded decorative chest][/center]

@PsFox Fester made his way over roots and beneath slimy tendrils, surprised despite himself at the sheer amount of [i]life[/i] that existed in the plague lands. True, it tended to look sickly (and smell bad) but it was everywhere: twisted trees sending out roots that forced their way deep into the hard earth, curtains of moss and tendrils covering every surface, fungi pushing their way out of every nook and cranny, insects crawling over every surface, and all of it thriving in its struggle for survival. He hadn't been sure what to expect when he'd made this little detour of an adventure but it was hard not to grow a little more appreciative of what it meant to live in Plague. He was just ducking beneath another jutting outcrop of tendrils when he heard a hiss like meat hitting a hot skillet. He stopped in his tracks, trying to figure out what was making the noise. As he got closer to it the noise increased in volume, until the sizzle had turned into a rattle like pebbles being blasted against glass. Finally he saw what was making the noise and with a yelp he jumped back in alarm. It was a... [center][item=flamescale spearman][/center]

Flickering his tail in excitement, Fester stared down the spearman, ecstatic but intrigued over his find. He may not be an expert on creatures other than maybe cats and fellow dragons, but he knew the handlers back home would be interested if he could find a way to get it home.

((Thank you for your hard work!))

@Mokuroh After all he'd seen and all his travels, Checkmate decided he wasn't going to return to the lair. That place felt too small for him now, too limited. He felt his true place was by his deities side, and so he decided to join the ranks of the Exalted. But before traveling to his new home at the Wyrmwound, he decided to do one last circuit of the Plague lands, so that he could say he truly knew his homeland. His travels took him through a barren, dead forest. There was a lot of rotting wood and so it was no surprise that fungi was growing everywhere. But that gave him an idea. It was Riot of Rot after all, and certain mushrooms were at a premium. He began searching beneath leaves and rotting logs. It wasn't long before his efforts were rewarded! [center][item=all-seeing shroom]x10[/center]

@Saraceaser Okhan was a chosen Exalted and he knew his place was by the Lightweaver's side, however before joining his deity he had decided to explore a bit of the Plague Lands for the Riot of Rot and take in the festivities. He crossed the Tangled Wood and finally entered the Scarred Wasteland. Everywhere he went there were dragons celebrating, many of them were hosted Exalted just like him. They invited him to join their games and their feasts and Okhan found himself greatly enjoying his visit. As he was browsing through a stand of shops he saw a dragon with a stunning feathered cape with a clasp in the shape of a bird skull. He asked the dragon where he'd purchased it. "You're looking for Joxar's shop. He's got the best festival gear around. Here, this will help you toward your first purchase!" [center][item=all-seeing shroom]x 10[/center]

@Watercolour Domerin waved at his companions, promising to meet up with them again at the Trading Post. He wanted to see some of these Plague Lands for himself before he went to join the Lightweaver. He set off toward the Rotrock Rim, knowing that the Wyrmwound was the heart of the Scarred Wasteland and what better way to get to know a place than to see its most important structure? The going wasn't easy, but everywhere he went he ran into dragons celebrating Riot of Rot and the festive atmosphere kept his head high and his feet light. Finally the Rotrock Rim appeared over the horizon. He looked up in amazement. It was bit larger than he'd anticipated. Maybe he wouldn't be able to climb it after all. Still, he decided to give it a try. Several hours later he emerged, huffing and puffing, at the summit. He had made it, and the view was spectacular. He was so taken with the vista that it took him a moment to notice what was growing at his feet. Well these would come in handy at the Trading Post! [center][item=all-seeing shroom]x 10[/center]

@YellowDragonz The sky was the color of burnt umber, save for a small grey spot that circled high above the scarred wasteland. Metal watched the smudge of dark color spiral lower and lower until it resolved itself into his Storm Seeker familiar. "See anything?" He asked as it settled on his shoulder. The Seeker cocked its head and stared at him with one beady, coal-black eye. "Yeah, me either." They continued on across the toxic wasteland that surrounded the Wyrmwound, staying well clear of the edge of the Rotrock Rim which towered thousands of feet above the red plains below. Metal had been traveling for hours and so far he'd seen little aside from slime and tendrils and distressingly quick-growing roots. There had been scattered groups of dragons celebrating the Riot of Rot but Metal had stayed clear of them, wanting to travel into parts unknown to have an adventure. He'd just decided that maybe he should give up on adventure and just go join the festivities when the mire started swirling in front of him. He sensed a wave of Plague magic surge up from the ground and he backed up to keep from getting caught in the vortex. Green, yellow and red streamers of rot and sludge intertwined before coalescing into a figure standing in front of him. He was face to face with a [center][item=deadland disciple][/center]

@MarinaQuakenbush Sorcha picked through the tangle of roots, humming to herself as she pulled at the vegetation and dug to see what was beneath. Behind her she could hear the quiet snores of her Slumbering Charlatan. The Ice-based familiar had been very uncomfortable in the heat-baked Abiding Boneyard but as soon as they travelled into the shadow of the Rotrock Rim it had seemed more like its usual self. Just getting out of the sun was a relief. Sorcha, being a plague dragon, was less adversely effected by the heat but it was still a bit much after the cooler temperatures of the Sea of One Thousand Currents. As she dug deeper into the root pile she set aside likely looking treats and mementos: some fungi, a few yellow-starred beetles, a centipede, and even a bit of treasure that must have fallen out of some dragons pocket and rolled beneath the vines. They were modest finds but she was still well pleased with them. That's when the whole mass of roots shuddered and heaved upward. She started back with a cry, realizing there was something [i]massive[/i] beneath the root bundle, perhaps taking advantage of the cool shade and moisture it provided. The behemoth shook free of the vegetation and rose upward, turning to stare at her. It was a [center][item=wave sweeper][/center]