Roleplay

This is going to be a dragon RP - not based in FR, though if you wish to use a graphic of one of your dergs I'm hardly opposed to it. I'll be making the plot up as I go, so after this post I would be incredibly grateful if you could give me a moment to write a combined intro/setting/plot hook for your reading pleasure. For the moment, here are some ground rules:

- Usual roleplay rules. No godmoding, powerplaying, etc.
- I love original characters with written introductions. However, if you find lists easier, I don't mind, but please follow up such an intro with a direct interaction post so that you aren't left behind by the narrative.
- Long posts are not necessary, but interaction is. An observing character will likely not be incorporated into the roleplay. On that note, extremely short posts with little to no description will receive a polite warning in private. Three of these will result in a request to leave the roleplay, as it makes it difficult for other roleplayers to engage and slows everyone down.
- If you would like one on one mentorship, advice, or editing service, you can message me directly and I would be happy to help you.

On to the good stuff!

Karala lifted her great head as a flock of birds burst suddenly from the mountainside, sending a shiver through the treetops. Their wheeling, screaming mass disappeared a moment later, but their echoes rang along the ridges, eerily deepening even as they faded away.

"Strange," she murmured to herself, swinging her antlered crown around to gaze fondly at the eggs nestled between her paws. They were deep brown in color, richer than the bark of an oak and flecked in gold. Bending, she sniffed, inhaling the earthy scent of them. Still weeks off from hatching. The uneasiness that had set in on her as the birds took wing grew sharper, and she uncurled restlessly from the nest, her maternal ire raised.

It was not uncommon for mothers such as Karala to never leave their nests. Anticipating the oncoming brood some months before, she had hunted with greater fervor than usual, storing up the fat so that she could attend to her hatchlings' birth without compromising their safety. Fathers rarely stuck around after courtship; they were fighters, males, hungry for conflict. Powerful clans ruled their lives. Females occasionally reached respectable ranks in such places, but not easily, and never when they were of breeding age. Most tended to be indifferent to the clan politics, as they changed them as easily as brood partners; after all, should one want to pursue such power, they would be restricted to the clan of their most recent mate. Karala supposed that made her a designate of the Navarians, technically, but she had been born Capri and made many friends in Jovia and Lanis. The true friction of the clans only really came to bear during egg season, when they fought for primacy and sought the greatest number of females, and therefore male hatchlings, that they could.

It was all a headache Karala did not enjoy dealing with, so she had chosen the privacy of the mountain valleys for her rearing. Now it appeared it wasn't as private as she had thought. Shifting from claw to claw, she looked anxiously at her little nest and back to where the birds had flown from. Her rust-colored wings unfolded, swirls of blue winking in the midafternoon sun. "I'll be gone for just a moment," she said finally. Primed on the edge of the cliff, she dove off of it, her sinuous body straightening in the glorious instance of flight.

Immediately, she knew she had made a mistake. A shadow flitting up the mountainside caught her eye even as she fell away from it. Karala let out an enormous bellow, shaking the valley in her rising rage and terror as the shadow streaked toward the nest she had so recently vacated. Twisting around, she beat her wings in mighty sweeps, straining for altitude, claws outstretched as though they would seize the sky itself to pull her on in desperation.

She didn't make it.

- - -

"How many so far, Killian?" An enormous white dragon with ridges of golden scales sat imperiously on a rocky outcropping, his tail coiled lazily around it. Beneath, a thin shelf supported a much smaller creature with powerful legs and an odd harness composed of many belts and buckles. "About... forty, Lord Khaldonius. Many from healthy nests. Some of the southern scouts have brought back runty ones, but we've put those aside until hatching time. A few could be of use."

Khaldonius snorted contemptuously. His claws curled into the rock, their polished sheen unmarred by the screeching crunch of stone splitting around them. "Lanis has no use for runts. We must be a powerful breed if we are to conquer our rivals and rule them. Only the best will be permitted to carry our name into battle, and females who produce runts will be banned from our mating flights. Where is Alouette, by and by?" The proud leader lowered his head until he was looking at Killian directly, eyes bright with interest. The younger male shuffled uneasily and set his harness to jangling. "She is caring for the... nest," he reported, hesitating slightly.

"Wonderful. I will go see her, then. Inform the scouts that the numbers are to be doubled next week." Killian departed hastily, amusing Khaldonius to no end. Slowly, stretching as he did so, the dragon uncoiled himself from the precipice and turned around, descending the cliffside in a series of graceful jumps. Lanis' home was deep inside the Frozenfire Canyon; many of its cliff faces were hundreds of feet high, their stone walls brilliantly colored with rippling waves of gold, copper, and sunset granite. Alouette's den was at the base of one such earthly mosaic, a clear river of water no deeper than an average dragon's belly flowing slowly by its entrance. Khaldonius glanced upward for a brief moment before entering, noting how distant the sky seemed from this safe haven down below.

The lair smelled of river reeds and Alouette; a sharp, evergreen aroma that wakened Khaldonius' senses as strongly as it had the day of their mating flight. Smoky red eyes watched him from the darkness. "Come out, my sweet," he whispered, coaxing a slim, petite green from the shadows. "Ah, are you hungry, my dear?"

"No." In the light of day, Alouette was a stunningly beautiful creature. Her scales shone like underwater jade, and her mane was as white and pure as Khaldonius' own scales. Black antlers hung with tiny golden links grew in demure sweeps from her ears, as though offended by the very danger they implied. She hesitated, then took a few more steps forward, shyly lifting her head to touch noses with the impassive white. "They will hatch soon."

"Will they?" Khaldonius' eyes gleamed with excitement. He squeezed as much of himself as he could through the entrance, coiling up and nudging Alouette between his forepaws. She settled, but reluctantly; her eyes were drawn constantly to a particular corner of the den. "Will you be happy to add a few more to your brood, my dear?"

The green looked at him sharply, but not with anger or distaste. Her smile was wide enough for her fangs to catch the slivers of light. "More?" she purred. "How many more?"

"As many as my queen desires." He nuzzled her, and at last Alouette ceased her fidgeting. Khaldonius closed his eyes, content to imagine a world for Lanis, only Lanis, swallowing their clan enemies whole.

(Going to bed for now, but feel free to ping me if you would like to jump in and I'll get back to you tomorrow.)

(Hey @EmeraldDragon13! Thanks for the compliments, you're too nice. Your intros are fantastic, by the way.

A few words on what I've got so far:

The region is divided into four shifting territories. Each clan is composed of males and females organized loosely by a clan leader and his chosen subordinates. Males and females with newly hatched broods capable of flight tend to form the body of such clans, while unburdened females and exiled males wander freely. For most of the year, clans will compete for hunting and territorial rights, and have several celebrations of strength and battle prowess throughout. At egg season, conflicts are more likely to turn violent, as clans begin aggressively pursuing females of breeding age no matter their alignment. Males can be protective at this time, and females can choose not to take a particular mate, though this is considered somewhat unusual as the instinct the bear strong hatchlings can overcome personal distaste.

Lanis is breaking many rules at the moment. Under the iron claw of Khaldonius, a clever, charismatic leader, the clan has organized themselves into strict groups of battle-hardened fighters and brood mothers. Females of breeding age who do not have nests have been forbidden to leave the territory, and are instead charged with caring for the eggs stolen by Lanis scouts. The intent is twofold; weaken enemy clans by stealing their new blood, and strengthen Lanis numbers and Lanis strength. Any scout that allows him/herself to be caught and compromise the utter secrecy of Lanis actions is promised retribution at Khaldonius' own claws, and so far, nothing has been said.

A truce has been called among the four clans in light of the thefts. They are to meet on the new moon at the one point all four territories touch: the Sky Tree, an enormous oak whose branches are wide enough to support fully grown dragons. The new moon will rise tomorrow night.

Please feel free to add more as we go! This is a skeleton setting so far, though I have more plot twists in mind.)

"You! Where are my eggs? Where did you take them, you filthy bog-wyrm?!"

A huge shadow passed over the lake, rapidly shrinking as its caster dove from great heights. Karala was weeping even as she roared in rage with her claws spread. She had been tracking the thief through the night; her eyes were sore and red from lack of sleep, and her stomach ached with an emptiness that was more profound than any meal could satisfy. The shining golden creature before her seemed to blur at the edges, so she narrowed her gaze, pained by the sunny brilliance of it. The difficulty only increased her fury as she straightened out like a gargantuan arrow shot from hundreds of miles away, her tail a feathered quill of blue, brown, and red. Hitting the stranger could very well spell disaster for them both.

"Give them back! Give them back to me!"

_ _ _

"Lost again, Thalassa?" Rosencrantz flicked his tail as the female stalked by. He was sunning himself on a rock, wings outstretched to attain the maximum degree of warmth. Lazily opening one eye, he fixed her in a bright yellow gaze and bared his fangs in a grin. "Your bad mood is spoiling my nap."

The little male was more annoying than a threat, and his insolence was tolerated by the more substantial members of his squad. Deep gold in color, his wine-red tiger stripes seemed to lend an aura of ferocity that was out of place with his runty size. He had a particular fascination with freshwater pearls, and right now he toyed with strings of the stuff between his talons, careful not to tangle the cord. "You know Dusk is never going to train a female. Why don't you stick to hunting deer if you want some sport in your life?"

(@bellancawings This is some nice world building you have going on!) [img]https://68.media.tumblr.com/7a5a74f74a9a17f4a0345b6b0e30c44b/tumblr_oik55cBPio1srw314o1_400.png[/img] Weary growls filled her ears as she looked up at the sky watching a large flock of birds fly overhead. Guro was tired, but she knew that if she stopped to take a break she would be left behind. With a wistful sigh she looked at her companions, all of them battle worn and world weary. Each dragon had at least one scar somewhere on their person, a few even were missing an eye or a limb. Guro wasn’t originally part of the ragtag group of dragons, only joining in for protection, as there was always strength in numbers, after all. Besides the sound of their heavy steps, there was the creaking of the wheels of a grand caravan, which was in the center of their march to ensure its protection. It didn’t take a genius to know that all the clan’s eggs were being kept inside of it, what with all the females periodically checking inside and the majority of them being only a few steps away from it. Guro had no brood of her own to fret after, she was too busy trying to keep up with the rest of the nomadic clan. “Not getting tired, are you?” one of the males said to her. He wore mostly green attire and certain scales glistened like gold on his body, making him look like he was covered in golden scars. Guro rolled her eyes. Of course she was tired. “We’ve been walking for almost an entire day now, what do you think?” she said, words laced with venom. She had no wish to make friends or think of joining this clan. They would chase her off eventually if they ever found out about her past crimes. The male gave a hearty laugh. He looked at her with yellow eyes that seem to sparkle, and to Guro that was never a good sign. “No need to get so defensive, I already have a mate, no worries love! Name’s Flint by the way.” he said in a flirty tone as he extended his hand in greeting. She didn’t take it. “I’m not going to stay here for long, you know, I’m only staying until I know that it would be safe for me to travel on my own.” Flint whistled, “I thought the same thing when I first joined this clan, but who knows? We might grow on ya, and you might want to stay after all!” He said with a smile. She frowned in response. Flint finally left her, which was a relief to her, but as she noticed he went ahead to converse with a female who had recently checked in the caravan, she could have sworn she saw glowing eyes behind the curtain. Guro rubbed her face. The fatigue must have been getting to her. After a few more hours the caravan finally stopped once they came across a thicket. The caravan had gone into to rest, the underbrush around them acting as camouflage to protecting them and their precious cargo from attackers. Most of the dragons gathered for a quick meeting then disappeared to gather food and find a drink of water before continuing on their journey. Guro walked towards the caravan, and the majority of the females glared at her as she walked past. She didn’t mind. She was an outsider, they had every right to distrust her. The caravan was being pulled by two dragons, one black and one white, female and male. They were practically yin and yang. They stopped conversing when they noticed the red blotched dragon approaching, they had a surprised look in their eyes for a second. Guro was mostly white, but the deep crimson piebald marks on her scales made her look like she had been drenched in blood. “Do you need something?” “How can we help you?” they both asked in unison, which took her by surprise but Guro managed to find her voice, “I was just curious why you all move around so much, wouldn’t it be better to stay in one territory?” The land-bound dragons looked to each other before looking back at Guro. The dark one answered, “Well you see, we’re mostly made up of dragons that have been wandering their whole life, defected from their clan for whatever reason, or were exiled.” The white dragon then began to speak after the other had finished, raising his false arm that was carved from stone. “Most of us were considered burdens or unfit to be warriors, so we all banded together to form this Clan, there are probably many like us, our clans are small so we wouldn’t be able to keep claim over much territory against bigger clans like Lanis.” he explained. After getting her question answered, Guro bowed politely and thanked them before going off on her own in order to get some grub. She had gotten far enough into the bush that the caravan was out of sight when she heard the rustling of trees and distressed shrieks nearby. With all that ruckus any hunting game that suited her fancy would have been long gone into hiding. With an agitated sigh she marched forward, her curiosity guiding her to find what the commotion was all about. (I hope I didn't make her introduction too long ;w;)

(@LazyChimera thank you, and not at all. Looking forward to this unfolding. :3)