TOPIC | Writer's Rescue: Lore Galore!
@Moonwatcher2811 [quote]Post to this thread with a CLAIM on that dragon with its bbcode and ping the person who's list that dragon came from. (Decaffeinated or MermaidLorelei). You can only claim one dragon at a time! You cannot claim a second dragon until you have had your lore approved for your first claim.[/quote]
@Moonwatcher2811
Quote:
Post to this thread with a CLAIM on that dragon with its bbcode and ping the person who's list that dragon came from. (Decaffeinated or MermaidLorelei). You can only claim one dragon at a time! You cannot claim a second dragon until you have had your lore approved for your first claim.
@mermaidlorelei
So sorry! This better?
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=51145755]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/511458/51145755_350.png[/img]
[/url]
Could I claim Helios?
@Decaffeinated
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=51001817]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/510019/51001817_350.png[/img]
[/url]
[quote] Having migrated from the Scarred Wastelands to the Southern Icefield, the nameless Wildclaw decided to strike out on her own, determined to not look back with each step she took. As she flew across the seemingly endless ocean, her thoughts bounced back and forth between returning to the wastelands where she was born or perhaps returning to the homeland of her ancestors, the Shrieking Wilds.
As she took her first steps in the Windswept Plateau, the Wildclaw decided that she’d venture back into lands of her birthplace first and then go from there if that didn’t work out. The journey was more dangerous than the Wildclaw had expected. The Southern Icefield certainly had its fair share of icy gales, but these seemed to pale in comparison to the chaotic winds of the Plateau.
After having finally ascended the Reedcleft Ascent, the Wildclaw found her first glimpse of the Wasteland before her. The Abiding Boneyard was a grim sight from the colorless Southern Icefield and the lively Plateau. The Wildclaw sat herself down and stared out across the Boneyard in contemplation. [i]Maybe tomorrow[/i], she thought as she pulled her wing over her head.
----------
The next morning the Wildclaw awoke to the smell of something delicious. Dazed, she blinked awake and looked around. Immediately, she spotted a strangely dressed [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=131796&tab=dragon&did=9536186]creature[/url] and hissed in surprised.
The creature cocked its head at her, apparently bemused, before turning back to its cooking meal. The Wildclaw felt her crest feathers bristle at the dismissal before lowering them in embarrassment at the sound of her rumbling stomach. Awkwardly, she turned away, shifting in her spot, as she wondered if she should ask the stranger for some food, steal their food, or walk away.
“Well don’t be a stranger, stranger,” a gravely voice said.
The Wildclaw whipped her head around and the creature bopped its horned head at her in greeting? With a gesture of its claws, it offered her a serving of its food before turning back to its own meal.
Warily, the Wildclaw approached the creature, who at closer examination turned out to be a strangely dressed Skydancer, and then dug into her meal.
“Thinking about crossing the Boneyard, stranger?” the skydancer asked.
She nodded, once.
The sky dancer hummed in response and offered nothing else. It wasn’t long before the skydancer finished his meal and was apparently ready to be off, but not before he gifted the Wildclaw a small glowing orb.
Curious, the Wildclaw looked up at him and wordlessly asked him to explain. With a chuckle, he said, “If you ever need some rest, crush this orb and follow it. The journey between the Wasteland and the Labyrinth is a long one. Luck be to you, stranger!”
And with that, the skydancer was gone, leaving the Wildclaw to question how the other dragon knew she was on her way to the Labyrinth to begin with.[/quote]
This was fun!
@Decaffeinated
This was fun!
Quote:
Having migrated from the Scarred Wastelands to the Southern Icefield, the nameless Wildclaw decided to strike out on her own, determined to not look back with each step she took. As she flew across the seemingly endless ocean, her thoughts bounced back and forth between returning to the wastelands where she was born or perhaps returning to the homeland of her ancestors, the Shrieking Wilds.
As she took her first steps in the Windswept Plateau, the Wildclaw decided that she’d venture back into lands of her birthplace first and then go from there if that didn’t work out. The journey was more dangerous than the Wildclaw had expected. The Southern Icefield certainly had its fair share of icy gales, but these seemed to pale in comparison to the chaotic winds of the Plateau.
After having finally ascended the Reedcleft Ascent, the Wildclaw found her first glimpse of the Wasteland before her. The Abiding Boneyard was a grim sight from the colorless Southern Icefield and the lively Plateau. The Wildclaw sat herself down and stared out across the Boneyard in contemplation. Maybe tomorrow, she thought as she pulled her wing over her head.
The next morning the Wildclaw awoke to the smell of something delicious. Dazed, she blinked awake and looked around. Immediately, she spotted a strangely dressed creature and hissed in surprised.
The creature cocked its head at her, apparently bemused, before turning back to its cooking meal. The Wildclaw felt her crest feathers bristle at the dismissal before lowering them in embarrassment at the sound of her rumbling stomach. Awkwardly, she turned away, shifting in her spot, as she wondered if she should ask the stranger for some food, steal their food, or walk away.
“Well don’t be a stranger, stranger,” a gravely voice said.
The Wildclaw whipped her head around and the creature bopped its horned head at her in greeting? With a gesture of its claws, it offered her a serving of its food before turning back to its own meal.
Warily, the Wildclaw approached the creature, who at closer examination turned out to be a strangely dressed Skydancer, and then dug into her meal.
“Thinking about crossing the Boneyard, stranger?” the skydancer asked.
She nodded, once.
The sky dancer hummed in response and offered nothing else. It wasn’t long before the skydancer finished his meal and was apparently ready to be off, but not before he gifted the Wildclaw a small glowing orb.
Curious, the Wildclaw looked up at him and wordlessly asked him to explain. With a chuckle, he said, “If you ever need some rest, crush this orb and follow it. The journey between the Wasteland and the Labyrinth is a long one. Luck be to you, stranger!”
And with that, the skydancer was gone, leaving the Wildclaw to question how the other dragon knew she was on her way to the Labyrinth to begin with.
As she took her first steps in the Windswept Plateau, the Wildclaw decided that she’d venture back into lands of her birthplace first and then go from there if that didn’t work out. The journey was more dangerous than the Wildclaw had expected. The Southern Icefield certainly had its fair share of icy gales, but these seemed to pale in comparison to the chaotic winds of the Plateau.
After having finally ascended the Reedcleft Ascent, the Wildclaw found her first glimpse of the Wasteland before her. The Abiding Boneyard was a grim sight from the colorless Southern Icefield and the lively Plateau. The Wildclaw sat herself down and stared out across the Boneyard in contemplation. Maybe tomorrow, she thought as she pulled her wing over her head.
The next morning the Wildclaw awoke to the smell of something delicious. Dazed, she blinked awake and looked around. Immediately, she spotted a strangely dressed creature and hissed in surprised.
The creature cocked its head at her, apparently bemused, before turning back to its cooking meal. The Wildclaw felt her crest feathers bristle at the dismissal before lowering them in embarrassment at the sound of her rumbling stomach. Awkwardly, she turned away, shifting in her spot, as she wondered if she should ask the stranger for some food, steal their food, or walk away.
“Well don’t be a stranger, stranger,” a gravely voice said.
The Wildclaw whipped her head around and the creature bopped its horned head at her in greeting? With a gesture of its claws, it offered her a serving of its food before turning back to its own meal.
Warily, the Wildclaw approached the creature, who at closer examination turned out to be a strangely dressed Skydancer, and then dug into her meal.
“Thinking about crossing the Boneyard, stranger?” the skydancer asked.
She nodded, once.
The sky dancer hummed in response and offered nothing else. It wasn’t long before the skydancer finished his meal and was apparently ready to be off, but not before he gifted the Wildclaw a small glowing orb.
Curious, the Wildclaw looked up at him and wordlessly asked him to explain. With a chuckle, he said, “If you ever need some rest, crush this orb and follow it. The journey between the Wasteland and the Labyrinth is a long one. Luck be to you, stranger!”
And with that, the skydancer was gone, leaving the Wildclaw to question how the other dragon knew she was on her way to the Labyrinth to begin with.
This was fun!
@mermaidlorelei
(Is this right? Thank you for the clarification! [s]I learned Quotes[emoji=fae happy]!![/s])
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=51116624]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/511167/51116624_350.png[/img]
[/url]
[quote]“It seemed like a good idea at the time?”
One of her sibling’s muttered as the quartet of Fae hatchlings wandered down the cave’s corridors. The youngest felt her frills flatten in anger as he spoke. Why had she even followed these idiots if she knew they’d get lost? She’d said so before they even went on this trek!
“Oh we won’t get lost, Suatara! Myteri knows the path to the lake.” “Yeah; stop worrying!” Sutara worried quite enough; thank you very much, Ferthi. When you start hearing magical warnings that seem to be coming from the purple and black crystals protruding from the walls, ceiling, and floor, then you can come over to Suatara and say “Oh, you worry too much, lil’ sis! There’s no one behind us at all.”
Suatara just knew this would end in tears. They never thought anything through and Suatara would be yelled at like always. “Why’d you let your siblings rope you into a mess, Suatara? You know you’re the strongest mage out of the group. You know you’re the planned leader for the clan.”
“Why are you always getting in trouble?”
The small Fae shook her head, frills making a small fluttering noise as they moved. She knew the answer, just like her parents knew, and her whole clan knew! It was boring! Her lessons were boring! At least with her siblings, Suatara could have some fun! But as she looked around the cavern, the icky black tendrils in the crystals writhing, she was afraid. Crest flaring in determination, Suatara spread her wings and bound to the front of the group, flapping her wings for an extra boost.
Myteri, Fertha, and Dethiop flinched back, coughing slightly at the dust blown in their faces. The eldest, Myteri, glared at her sister, cheek fins flaring. Suatara glared right back.
“This is a terrible plan. We’re lost, tired, and scared. I’m going to send out a flare for Mom and Dad and we’re going home.” With that, a flare of bright pink magic lit her eyes and a glimmering butterfly materialized and darted off. Her siblings, though disappointed, seemed to agree. Myteri shuffled her paws as she looked away from her small sister. Suatara apologized quietly as they waited. Soon, they heard soft pawsteps and looked up excitedly.
A large Guardian and even taller Imperial followed a Pearlcatcher with strange glowing lines connecting his eyes; all following the butterfly Suatara had charmed. Suatara jumped in front of her siblings quickly before her eyes widened in awe. The Pearlcatcher had been blessed by the Arcanist himself; his eyes filled with stars. His voice was soft as he smiled down at the hatchlings.
“Hello there. We’re here to bring you all home.”
[/quote]
@mermaidlorelei
(Is this right? Thank you for the clarification!I learned Quotes!!)
(Is this right? Thank you for the clarification!
Quote:
“It seemed like a good idea at the time?”
One of her sibling’s muttered as the quartet of Fae hatchlings wandered down the cave’s corridors. The youngest felt her frills flatten in anger as he spoke. Why had she even followed these idiots if she knew they’d get lost? She’d said so before they even went on this trek!
“Oh we won’t get lost, Suatara! Myteri knows the path to the lake.” “Yeah; stop worrying!” Sutara worried quite enough; thank you very much, Ferthi. When you start hearing magical warnings that seem to be coming from the purple and black crystals protruding from the walls, ceiling, and floor, then you can come over to Suatara and say “Oh, you worry too much, lil’ sis! There’s no one behind us at all.”
Suatara just knew this would end in tears. They never thought anything through and Suatara would be yelled at like always. “Why’d you let your siblings rope you into a mess, Suatara? You know you’re the strongest mage out of the group. You know you’re the planned leader for the clan.”
“Why are you always getting in trouble?”
The small Fae shook her head, frills making a small fluttering noise as they moved. She knew the answer, just like her parents knew, and her whole clan knew! It was boring! Her lessons were boring! At least with her siblings, Suatara could have some fun! But as she looked around the cavern, the icky black tendrils in the crystals writhing, she was afraid. Crest flaring in determination, Suatara spread her wings and bound to the front of the group, flapping her wings for an extra boost.
Myteri, Fertha, and Dethiop flinched back, coughing slightly at the dust blown in their faces. The eldest, Myteri, glared at her sister, cheek fins flaring. Suatara glared right back.
“This is a terrible plan. We’re lost, tired, and scared. I’m going to send out a flare for Mom and Dad and we’re going home.” With that, a flare of bright pink magic lit her eyes and a glimmering butterfly materialized and darted off. Her siblings, though disappointed, seemed to agree. Myteri shuffled her paws as she looked away from her small sister. Suatara apologized quietly as they waited. Soon, they heard soft pawsteps and looked up excitedly.
A large Guardian and even taller Imperial followed a Pearlcatcher with strange glowing lines connecting his eyes; all following the butterfly Suatara had charmed. Suatara jumped in front of her siblings quickly before her eyes widened in awe. The Pearlcatcher had been blessed by the Arcanist himself; his eyes filled with stars. His voice was soft as he smiled down at the hatchlings.
“Hello there. We’re here to bring you all home.”
One of her sibling’s muttered as the quartet of Fae hatchlings wandered down the cave’s corridors. The youngest felt her frills flatten in anger as he spoke. Why had she even followed these idiots if she knew they’d get lost? She’d said so before they even went on this trek!
“Oh we won’t get lost, Suatara! Myteri knows the path to the lake.” “Yeah; stop worrying!” Sutara worried quite enough; thank you very much, Ferthi. When you start hearing magical warnings that seem to be coming from the purple and black crystals protruding from the walls, ceiling, and floor, then you can come over to Suatara and say “Oh, you worry too much, lil’ sis! There’s no one behind us at all.”
Suatara just knew this would end in tears. They never thought anything through and Suatara would be yelled at like always. “Why’d you let your siblings rope you into a mess, Suatara? You know you’re the strongest mage out of the group. You know you’re the planned leader for the clan.”
“Why are you always getting in trouble?”
The small Fae shook her head, frills making a small fluttering noise as they moved. She knew the answer, just like her parents knew, and her whole clan knew! It was boring! Her lessons were boring! At least with her siblings, Suatara could have some fun! But as she looked around the cavern, the icky black tendrils in the crystals writhing, she was afraid. Crest flaring in determination, Suatara spread her wings and bound to the front of the group, flapping her wings for an extra boost.
Myteri, Fertha, and Dethiop flinched back, coughing slightly at the dust blown in their faces. The eldest, Myteri, glared at her sister, cheek fins flaring. Suatara glared right back.
“This is a terrible plan. We’re lost, tired, and scared. I’m going to send out a flare for Mom and Dad and we’re going home.” With that, a flare of bright pink magic lit her eyes and a glimmering butterfly materialized and darted off. Her siblings, though disappointed, seemed to agree. Myteri shuffled her paws as she looked away from her small sister. Suatara apologized quietly as they waited. Soon, they heard soft pawsteps and looked up excitedly.
A large Guardian and even taller Imperial followed a Pearlcatcher with strange glowing lines connecting his eyes; all following the butterfly Suatara had charmed. Suatara jumped in front of her siblings quickly before her eyes widened in awe. The Pearlcatcher had been blessed by the Arcanist himself; his eyes filled with stars. His voice was soft as he smiled down at the hatchlings.
“Hello there. We’re here to bring you all home.”
@Decaffeinated
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=50353440]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/503535/50353440_350.png[/img]
[/url]
When I saw this boy and his name I knew I had to have him and an idea popped into my head. I've struggled a bit to write this as atm i have stiletto nails and they make everything ten times harder to do.
----------
[center]The scent of death and rot clung to his short fur like a second skin. No amount of soap or scrubbing could rid himself of the smell. It's been there since he hatched. His parents thought his egg had rotted and threw him out of the nest. When his egg did hatch it was horrid. His parents and siblings couldn’t stand to be around him for very long. They called him cruel names like Roadkill or Cadaver. But the was one the stuck. Murder. With the stench that always wafted from him and the swirls of bright red that painted his white fur, the name only made sense. No matter how much it hurt to hear it.
When he left he tried living in the Scarred Wasteland but in a strange sense of irony he couldn’t stand the stench of the area. There no one was bothered by his smell, he didn’t think they even smelt it. It was the only time where no one commented on the way he smelt but was it worth living in a place that made him gag most of the time? He didn’t think so.
He decided to live on the bit of land between the Scarred Wasteland and the Windswept Plateau. Where the plague dragons weren’t bother by his smell and wind dragons were too polite to say anything about it.
He had been content to living out the rest of his days there until he had met them. A pair of Skydancer’s that were shroud in a powerful aura. He had just come back from a hunt when he heard one of them from behind him.
“My, my what a stench.” He turned to look at the pair, one with metallic red wings dressed in heavy black coat and face mostly obscured with a wide brimmed hat, the other has shimmering wings of purple, dressed in an extravagant purple overcoat, majority of his face covered in a silver visor.
“No need to be so rude, my dear friend. I’m sure he can’t help it.” The skydander in the heavy coat tilts her head talking to the other dragon who tails a step of so behind her, but her amber colored eyes never leave his form. They almost seem to glow as they peer at him from under the brim of her hat. “Were looking for a dragon that goes by the name of Murder have you heard of him.” She turned her full attention to him.
The looks the two skydancer’s give him makes him believe they already know the answer to the question. So he decides to give his own question in response.
“Who what’s to know?”
The smile on the purple skydancer’s face grew wider and more wicked. “How rude of us,” He stepped forward, sliding close along the side of the darker colored skydancer. “I’m known as Trixky, and this is.”
“Izunia, advisor of Percival, the patriarch of the Feathered Haven.”
“And you’re Murder.” Trixky cut in, his smile growing wider.
“What do you want with me.” He asked taking a step back from the two skydancers
“We’ve heard stories of the dragon who smelt of death.” Trixky moved closer
“What he means is that we both find you interesting.” Both Izunia and Trixky saddled up on either side of him pinning him between the two of them. “You’re an omen. At least that’s what we think.”
“Death is natural and it’s chosen you as an avatar.” Trixky bumps his hip into his rocking him into Izunia. “Come with us and you won’t have to deal with that stench that sticks with you.”
Murder’s mind was spinning, he has no idea what the two of them were talking about but he knew one thing “You can get rid of the smell?”
“I’m sure Kupkake can cook up something that can help you.” [/center]
@Decaffeinated
When I saw this boy and his name I knew I had to have him and an idea popped into my head. I've struggled a bit to write this as atm i have stiletto nails and they make everything ten times harder to do.
When I saw this boy and his name I knew I had to have him and an idea popped into my head. I've struggled a bit to write this as atm i have stiletto nails and they make everything ten times harder to do.
The scent of death and rot clung to his short fur like a second skin. No amount of soap or scrubbing could rid himself of the smell. It's been there since he hatched. His parents thought his egg had rotted and threw him out of the nest. When his egg did hatch it was horrid. His parents and siblings couldn’t stand to be around him for very long. They called him cruel names like Roadkill or Cadaver. But the was one the stuck. Murder. With the stench that always wafted from him and the swirls of bright red that painted his white fur, the name only made sense. No matter how much it hurt to hear it.
When he left he tried living in the Scarred Wasteland but in a strange sense of irony he couldn’t stand the stench of the area. There no one was bothered by his smell, he didn’t think they even smelt it. It was the only time where no one commented on the way he smelt but was it worth living in a place that made him gag most of the time? He didn’t think so.
He decided to live on the bit of land between the Scarred Wasteland and the Windswept Plateau. Where the plague dragons weren’t bother by his smell and wind dragons were too polite to say anything about it.
He had been content to living out the rest of his days there until he had met them. A pair of Skydancer’s that were shroud in a powerful aura. He had just come back from a hunt when he heard one of them from behind him.
“My, my what a stench.” He turned to look at the pair, one with metallic red wings dressed in heavy black coat and face mostly obscured with a wide brimmed hat, the other has shimmering wings of purple, dressed in an extravagant purple overcoat, majority of his face covered in a silver visor.
“No need to be so rude, my dear friend. I’m sure he can’t help it.” The skydander in the heavy coat tilts her head talking to the other dragon who tails a step of so behind her, but her amber colored eyes never leave his form. They almost seem to glow as they peer at him from under the brim of her hat. “Were looking for a dragon that goes by the name of Murder have you heard of him.” She turned her full attention to him.
The looks the two skydancer’s give him makes him believe they already know the answer to the question. So he decides to give his own question in response.
“Who what’s to know?”
The smile on the purple skydancer’s face grew wider and more wicked. “How rude of us,” He stepped forward, sliding close along the side of the darker colored skydancer. “I’m known as Trixky, and this is.”
“Izunia, advisor of Percival, the patriarch of the Feathered Haven.”
“And you’re Murder.” Trixky cut in, his smile growing wider.
“What do you want with me.” He asked taking a step back from the two skydancers
“We’ve heard stories of the dragon who smelt of death.” Trixky moved closer
“What he means is that we both find you interesting.” Both Izunia and Trixky saddled up on either side of him pinning him between the two of them. “You’re an omen. At least that’s what we think.”
“Death is natural and it’s chosen you as an avatar.” Trixky bumps his hip into his rocking him into Izunia. “Come with us and you won’t have to deal with that stench that sticks with you.”
Murder’s mind was spinning, he has no idea what the two of them were talking about but he knew one thing “You can get rid of the smell?”
“I’m sure Kupkake can cook up something that can help you.”
When he left he tried living in the Scarred Wasteland but in a strange sense of irony he couldn’t stand the stench of the area. There no one was bothered by his smell, he didn’t think they even smelt it. It was the only time where no one commented on the way he smelt but was it worth living in a place that made him gag most of the time? He didn’t think so.
He decided to live on the bit of land between the Scarred Wasteland and the Windswept Plateau. Where the plague dragons weren’t bother by his smell and wind dragons were too polite to say anything about it.
He had been content to living out the rest of his days there until he had met them. A pair of Skydancer’s that were shroud in a powerful aura. He had just come back from a hunt when he heard one of them from behind him.
“My, my what a stench.” He turned to look at the pair, one with metallic red wings dressed in heavy black coat and face mostly obscured with a wide brimmed hat, the other has shimmering wings of purple, dressed in an extravagant purple overcoat, majority of his face covered in a silver visor.
“No need to be so rude, my dear friend. I’m sure he can’t help it.” The skydander in the heavy coat tilts her head talking to the other dragon who tails a step of so behind her, but her amber colored eyes never leave his form. They almost seem to glow as they peer at him from under the brim of her hat. “Were looking for a dragon that goes by the name of Murder have you heard of him.” She turned her full attention to him.
The looks the two skydancer’s give him makes him believe they already know the answer to the question. So he decides to give his own question in response.
“Who what’s to know?”
The smile on the purple skydancer’s face grew wider and more wicked. “How rude of us,” He stepped forward, sliding close along the side of the darker colored skydancer. “I’m known as Trixky, and this is.”
“Izunia, advisor of Percival, the patriarch of the Feathered Haven.”
“And you’re Murder.” Trixky cut in, his smile growing wider.
“What do you want with me.” He asked taking a step back from the two skydancers
“We’ve heard stories of the dragon who smelt of death.” Trixky moved closer
“What he means is that we both find you interesting.” Both Izunia and Trixky saddled up on either side of him pinning him between the two of them. “You’re an omen. At least that’s what we think.”
“Death is natural and it’s chosen you as an avatar.” Trixky bumps his hip into his rocking him into Izunia. “Come with us and you won’t have to deal with that stench that sticks with you.”
Murder’s mind was spinning, he has no idea what the two of them were talking about but he knew one thing “You can get rid of the smell?”
“I’m sure Kupkake can cook up something that can help you.”