Quests & Challenges

Previously on 'Design Your Own Light Rep': [quote name="lilystar6" date="2018-06-26 13:41:41" ] [quote name="lilystar6" date="2018-06-25 13:10:28" ] [quote name="lilystar6" date="2018-06-24 14:43:39" ] [img]http://flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=1&body=140&bodygene=17&breed=12&element=8&eyetype=0&gender=0&tert=43&tertgene=16&winggene=17&wings=84&auth=6250d017d27834ca0c4906fab8e810b5defc435f&dummyext=prev.png[/img] [/quote] While I am not a fluent Japanese speaker, I found a nice name on behind the name in that language - Haruto, using the combination of ? (haru) meaning "light, sun, male" and ? (to) meaning "soar, fly"; which seemed fighting for a male Coatl light rep. [/quote] This episode: Outfit design [outfit=465451] [item=luminous halo] [item= light tome] [item=ethereal flame cloak] [item=ethereal flame candles] [item= solar blades] I chose the luminous halo rather than a light emblem because of the anglic look of the Coatl breed, and because the halo goes with the lace. The light tome is an obvious choice for any light rep, declaring their flight affiliation and showing the fondness of light dragons for books. The two ethereal flame pieces where chosen to play up the connection between fire and [s]glitter[/s] light, validating the choice of a breed native to fire. Solar blades was chosen to reinforce the theme of soaring light by calling attention back to the wings. [/quote] Today's Theme: Familiar choice [item=spellbound tome] Haruto looked over the section of the clan space that had been set aside for the non-draconic occupants. He didn't really want a familiar, but the other dragons had pressured him into at least giving it a try. "Hello - anyone want to be my famliar?" This didn't get a response, but since the coatl had been talking quietly and many familiars don't understand draconic, the lack of response shouldn't be seen as particularly surprising. He contemplated just leaving, but a blue book off to one side caught his eye. Sitting and reading for a bit might attract a fellow book lover, without having to try braving the cliques that had formed among the re-homed beastclans. He picked up the book intent on curling up to read it, when it jumped in his hands, thwacking him on the snout and causing him to let go of it. "Ouch. Why you little..." Haruto lept skywards after the errant winged tome. He was faster, but the book was agile enough to evade his hands fairly easily - at least partially because Coatls have rather short arms. Haruto followed up another dodged swipe by trying to catch the book in his mouth long enough to get it back to the ground - only to have to let it go rather than let the book scratch itself on his fangs. Annoying snout hurting flying books are still books, and one simply dosn't damage books. The two twisted and turned through the air as Haruto tried to catch the book, but kept having it evade him - or force him to let it go rather than risk harming it. He switched to trying to grab it with his tail, but that meant twisting into awkward angles to see what he was doing when attempting to bind the book. Looking backwards at his attempt to grab the flighty tome rather than where he was going Haruto failed to see the tree until he hit it. The Coatl slid down the tree, before lying dazed on the leaves. The spellbound tome floated above the dazed dragon, rather than flying off, perhaps worried about whether he was all right. Looking up at the sky Haruto was forced to admit just how silly that chase had been - though it had been fun. "You win that one tome." It fluttered smugly at him. "Truce - I stop trying to read you, and you don't lead me into anymore trees?" The tome bobbed in the air, in the manner similar to a laughing dragon, before clearly bouncing up and down in a nod. "Well I had come here hoping for a fellow scholar - but a book that can out fly me would also make a good familiar for a bookwyrm."

What better companion for an academic who spends most of his time researching than a familiar with photographic memory? While Solenergi doesn't like to rely on his psywurm's abilities constantly, thinking that would be a bad habit of someone in his profession, it's still handy to have handy when one can't quite remember exactly where one left that two hundred year old scroll in a rather extensive library cavern. [center][item=brilliant psywurm][/center]

[columns][item=Ensorcelled Volume][nextcol][indent][size=5]After hours of wrestling, this impressive tome finally comes to rest, lets its pages fly open, and reveals... 300 pages of ways to prepare liver and onions.[/indent][/columns][/size] This special flying text was finally caught by Loom some years ago, on an excursion to an alleged haunted library in the Starwood Strand before returning home. The Volume displayed with pride its assorted 300 filled pages, and Loom was rightly impressed by the collection of recipes. Loom was also intrigued by the remaining hundreds of empty pages waiting to record secrets protected both through the challenge of wresting control from this book and secured through the obscurity of the really quite nice instructions on stir fry.

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/4o8jY3i.png[/img] [b]Rihedl[/b] [i]and his familiar, Hope[/i][/center] "...oh, thank the Icewarden for your kindness, stranger. [i]Thank you."[/i] "The Lightweaver smiles upon you, my brother." "I will remember this deed, pearlcatcher. I'll repay it one day, I promise." The unspoken insinuation that the favor would be passed forth in the form of mercy during combat against the Light flight was palpable, seeing as the mirror before him was hastily reapplying his heavy armor above the wound that Rihedl had just patched. This was a warrior, not a healer. Mercy was the most he could give. As the mirror saluted him with an orange claw and took to the sky, Rihedl packed his bags and set to pondering his next plan of action. The mirror had been ambushed by a beastclan conglomerate, knocked from the sky by the talons of a harpy and quickly set upon by rogue centaurs. Logically, the thought of an actively aggressive beastclan in the area [i]should[/i] ward him away, he was traveling alone after all... [i]but...[/i] Rihedl brought a contemplative claw to rest upon his snout. As an acolyte of the Lightweaver, he had a divine blessing on his side, a boon that many dragons did not have the privilege of receiving. That settled it. He would be setting out farther into beastclan territory, following the natural trails created by the centaurs' passage upon the ground to seek out other survivors of their attacks. No dragon should be left to slowly die from leaking wounds that could be healed. Rihedl took to the air with a determined flap of his wings. ----------------------------------- His entire body ached from the force of his dive toward the ground. He should have payed more attention to maintaining an appropriate landing speed; he should have braced his legs before slamming directly into the cold, rocky earth. But how could he focus on something as mundane as [i]landing[/i] when such a horror show laid sprawled out before him? What a terror it [i]was.[/i] He stood before the head of a massive guardian dragon, five times his length and with wings that could blot out the sun. The size of the guardian, however, was not at all surprising. Nor was the absolute massacre of beastclan members, what must have been an entire tribe laying dead on the ground around their slaughterer. No, what surprised Rihedl the most was the condition of the [i]dragon.[/i] All along its body were weapons of varying sizes and materials, sticking out from under its pried-up scales like giant porcupine quills. Several patches of scales were missing entirely, and looking around, Rihedl could identify several of their shiny, dinner-plate sized forms dotting the barren landscape. Eyes darting back to the guardian, up its bloodied neck, to its beard, and to its snout, Rihedl caught sight something that he would never forget. Where the guardian's eyes would have been were bloody pulps, slashes from what were undoubtedly harpy's talons raking up the area where the organs once sat. Rihedl looked away quickly. This guardian wasn't just past the point of saving. It was [i]dead.[/i] Just for the sake of an official diagnosis, however, Rihedl made sure to close his eyes tightly and hone in on the sounds entering his ears. Even if the guardian had passed out and was barely holding onto life, it would still have a slow, throbbing heartbeat. Sure enough, all Rihedl could hear was the occasional calling of a bird, the buzzing of mosquitoes, and- [i]Bah-bum.[/i] No. No way. [i]Bah-bum.[/i] This couldn't possibly- Rihedl's eyes snapped open and he darted on careful feet toward the dragon's body. He then stopped dead in his tracks. The heartbeat was fading away. No, no, it wasn't slowing, so it wasn't the heart's final beating. It was simply [i]quieter.[/i] Rihedl's ears swiveled around, trying to focus on the noise. Oddly enough, it wasn't coming from the guardian's chest. It was coming from behind him. Rihedl's mane stood on end. Slowly, with great caution, he turned around. [center][img]https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/flightrising/images/9/9e/Dappled_Dunhoof.png[/img][/center] There, pushing its upper half into an upright position, was a battered and bruised centaur, clutching a spear in its small, shaking hands. [i]A hunter.[/i] Its legs scrabbled uselessly against the ground, spent from the exertion and loss of adrenaline. And its eyes- Rihedl stared into the dark orbs. They were wet with tears. Something was off. The other bodies upon the ground had been blackened, seared from draconic flame, or cleaved in two by the guardian's razor-sharp claws. How then, had this centaur acquired such precise slashes and bruises? A sudden glint from the spear caught his eye. Its blade was engraved- Engraved with the emblem of the Fire flight, a symbol shunned by the beastclans. Everything clicked. The dragon's wings were in good enough shape to fly. It could have taken off at any time, it could have saved itself. But no guardian would ever abandon its charge. No guardian would ever abandon its reason for living, its treasure, its [i]light-[/i] Rihedl turned back to the centaur. "You lost a true friend today." The centaur nodded, its trembling only intensifying. "A noble protector to the end." He settled upon the ground, grabbing his basket of medicinal herbs with a tight grip. "His sacrifice will not be in vain." Silence ensued for an immeasurable amount of time before Rihedl chose to speak again, claws deftly crushing the stalk of a plant into a disinfectant. "I have come to understand that the defected centaur are not kind to those loyal to dragons. If you would allow me, I could stay with you until you recover." The look in the Dunhoof's grateful eyes told him all that he needed to know. Their journey together had only just begun. [center][item=dappled dunhoof][/center] ------------------------- Edit: A Note from the Author If a beastclan member seems like an odd choice for a light representative, know that it is supposed to be. Rihedl's entire philosophy is that, as the sun shines upon Sornieth for everyone to enjoy, he should vow to aid all that he can, be they a Light dragon, a member of an opposing faction, or even a beast. Think of it as a dragon's Hippocratic Oath. Out of every beastclan familiar that Rihedl could have bonded with, I believed that a Dunhoof would be ideal, as they are very open minded towards dragons and widely accept their companionship. Dunhooves are explicitly stated as acting as ambassadors between dragons and beastclans, meaning that both they, and Rihedl, share the same goal: to create a kinder, more united world. Rihedl and a Dunhoof truly seem as though they would be twin souls, and such is the epitome of a familiar bond.

Daily Challenge: Choose a familiar as a companion for the dragon and describe their relationship! Please use the item code to display the icons. [img]http://flightrising.com/images/cms/familiar/art/26776.png[/img] [item=slight eyewing] per it's description the slight eyewing is always watching. it has eyes all over it's body. it's even described as a celstial creature. and since Littleweaver is a Fae and Fae's are so tiny, he'd need someone to watch over him. As for a name? I don't know what I might name this familiar, but I'm sure it would come in time.

[img]https://i.imgur.com/ll052j8.png[/img] [img]http://www1.flightrising.com/static/cms/familiar/art/20822.png[/img][item=veiled vision] Salpinx and his familiar have an odd and strained relationship. The spirit has followed him ever since it heard his horn echoing off the walls of a canyon, waking all manner of creatures from slumber. It is always watching him, looking over his shoulder as he writes his speeches, curling around him as he delivers them, whispering in a language he cannot understand. He cannot help but feel that it is judging him. At times it seems to favour a certain course of action over another, but oftentimes that leads Salpinx into situations he is uncomfortable with or which confuse him. Though he has asked the spirit to leave, it refuses to, and over time he has gotten accustomed to its presence, however strange and occasionally discomfiting. The spirit, meanwhile, knows of the harpies and other creatures, itself included, displaced from their homes due to the sporting event that brought Salpinx to the canyon. Though it has long stopped bearing a grudge regarding the incident, it has never ceased in its attempts to make Salpinx understand how loudly he echoes, nor has it ceased in its attempts to nudge him into using his voice in a way that doesn't drown out others.

~

[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/455863502729379841/461782810911571968/memento_full.png[/img] [item=Serthis Archivist][/center] Memento's humility is an incredible thing - he's witnessed firsthand the glory and blood of Serthis history, and while he's appalled by the brutality of their customs, he cannot help but admire a civilization that endured under dragonkind's cruelest claws. When captured once by a Serthis clan, he bowed his head willingly, offering to bear the weight of dragonkind's crimes if it would bring the clan peace. Perhaps in an attempt to educate him, he was shunted to [b][color=goldenrod]Mirzak, an archivist who treasures historical truth above all else.[/color][/b] However, the two came quickly to understand each other. Mirzak realized his clan would rather kill Memento than hear him out and embrace his quest for truth, and helped him escape, sacrificing his place in the clan so that Memento's life and journey could continue. Mirzak fully expected Memento to abandon him, but the Tundra was so moved by his savior's kindness that he nearly begged him to join him on his journey. It was in this way that the two became travelling companions, and in time, dearest friends. To see one without the other is a rare and worrying thing! At the heart of Memento and Mirzak's bond is a dedication to learning more from one anothers' perspectives. The world is very different from the eyes of a god-loyal dragon and the eyes of a serthis historian, but while some may come to blows over this, these companions know that violence will only incite more violence. This mutual understanding is as much a reason Mirzak knows Memento's true nature as is the fact that it's hard to hide it from a constant companion forever.

If it still counts, then I believe that a [item=Veiled Vision] would be appropriate, given my scry's design and "sealed" status.