Roleplay

"The smell." Tristen replied after a moments thought. He had not left the expanse since he arrived, and that was when he was barely a hatchling. The scent of rot was the only thing he remembered. "What is it like?" He asked as the sea passed beneath them as they neared the border. "Living in the wastlands, I mean."

~~~

"I will keep that in mind." Sam said, making a mental note. "It is...loud." he added after a moments thought. "Not so much in the canyon, where we have set up, but the farther you go towards the spire, the louder it gets. It is hot. That much is certain." On that note, he looked up at the sky with a scowl. The sun was almost directly overhead, and that meant that they had missed their window for a cool flight.

"Well, they do say that Plague dragons are all about survival for a reason. Everybody in a clan has to do their part in order to keep the whole group alive and well; resources are hard to come by, and if you've got a leader like mine... don't expect to see much friendly faces." The Noc paused to sigh, then, as though realizing what she'd let slip, she sputtered and floundered. "I-It's not like-- I-I mean, I love my mother and all, she's just-- I mean-- wouldn't any dragon be wary of others in, uh, a harsh landscape? It's hard to, you know, establish trust and all that!" Once more, the massive birdskull (where in all of Sornieth did dragons find bird with heads this huge to make headdresses out of, Ignition could never fathom) failed to mask any of the poor girl's embarrassment- even the fiery, golden feathers seemed to quiver in agitation. "I'd just, you know, like to think that there are nice clans out there too. It's... tiring to constantly have to keep your guard up all the time. For instance, this kinda attitude is what got your family and mine in trouble in the first place." Ignition laughed, a little nervously. "Sorry, sorry! I do tend to run my mouth like this."

---

Inquisitively, Deinomache cocked her head-- and nearly lost balance, but managed to right herself in time, with the yelping shriek that so characterized Wildclaws. Frantically flapping to keep up, she retook her spot by Samuel. "Apologies, again... Anyhow, I assume that the constant thunderstorms cause the heat and noise. If it were humid as well, then it would not be so different from the Plaguebringer's domain," she mused.

((Have you been to harpy's roost? That is where they get the birdskulls.))

Triten gave the nocturne a confused look. They were right, werent they? He had heard tales of the unforgiving landscape the plague mother ruled. Not much different, or any less dangerous, then the harsh desert of the expanse, he imagined. Why would she need to apologize if she was right? "Why do you call her 'mother'?" He asked before he could stop himself. Sure, his own leader was a brilliant leader, but the whole clan didnt call him 'father'. "Did she raise you?"

~~~

"It is far from humid." Sam said with a laugh. "I have been to all of the flights, and nothing can compare to the dry heat of the expanse. Even the scorching heat of the ashfall is tolerable after a while. I still have.t gotten used to the desert, and I have lived there my entire life."

((Oh wow, TIL haha. Haven't gotten there; still stuck at the level 20 areas))

"Huh? Oh, yeah, actually," Ignition answered, a little dismayed at herself for being such a klutz with her words. "My mum-- uh, the Matriarch, she thinks of, well, basically every dragon in our clan as her child-- or grandchild-- even if we're not biologically hers. We're a fairly small clan anyway-- most of the time. It's only in times when a bunch of dragons come to our Matriarch to be trained and prepared to serve the Plaguebringer that we grow in size." They seem to really buy into her Deadland Disciple backstory, she resisted adding. "And before I forget, yes; I was the first dragon she raised and brought up. If she doesn't introduce me as one of the Swarm's Warriors-- and she always does-- then it's usually as her eldest child." With a smile, she finished, "I'm the big sister to most of the other dragons in the lair, as a result."

---

"Good Gladekeeper," Deinomache gasped. "Is it not so hard to thrive in such an arid world? And here I thought that living in the Wandering Contagion was a tricky thing to pull off. How does your clan manage?"

"Must be quite the feeling" Tristen said, his curiosity kindled. He was raised in much the same way, by dragons other then his own parents, so he knew how the noc felt. "Did you ever know your family any family before your matriarch?" He asked, not realising until afterward that he mightve hit a nerve. He knew some were sensitve about such things, but it had come out before he could stop it.

---

"Actually, the gladekeeper has been a big help." Sam said. "One of our elders is a disciple of the gladekeeper, and he tends the gardens. Most our supplies are grown in house, and the hunting grounds have yet to fail. Water was a problem for a time, but we have tunneled freshwater from the sea since then."

Tilting her head, Ignition strained as though to recall some memories. "Hmm... I'm sure I did. Probably when I was a wee little hatchling, since I don't really remember much." Seeing the concern on her companion's face, she laughed. "Oh, no, don't worry! I've pondered and thought a lot about my old family. It doesn't really make me... well, that sad anymore. I don't really remember anything but a lot of fog-- literally!-- when I think about my old family." As she said this, she mentally distanced herself from the melancholic emotions that she did indeed feel. "As my adoptive father says, 'There's no point in getting sad over things one doesn't remember.'"

---

"Oh! We use a similar technique for water." Deinomache's electric blue eyes sparkled. "Incidentally, I do remember once that a Maren Defender ended up lost in our reservoir. A clanmate of mine managed to befriend her before our leader found out; a fortunate thing, as she tends to be... er, sensitive about trespassers." Curiously, she peeked at Samuel-- quickly, just so she wouldn't lose her balance again. "Do you garden as well? But then again, by the garb that you don, I imagine you to be a spellcaster of sorts. Are you, by any chance, an alchemist as well?"

((This is going to do bounds for tristen's self esteem. Just so you know.))

"I suppose there isnt." Tristen said. He remembered some of his family, but no faces or names. Simply their presence. "But at least you remember something. Apperently, I just showed up at the dorrstep of the clan. Alone and near death. I had been droped off at the edge of the canyon. Thats where the trail started."

---
"I tried to garden once." Sam said with a chuckle. "That...didnt go over well. I am a simple magi." To prove his point, he held a claw out in front of him. After a moment, there was a crackling noise, and a ball of lightning, no bigger then his pearl, hovered above his grip. He closed his fist, and the ball dissapated. "I have...dabbled with alchemy. Though, I would not call myself an alchimest. For that, you would have to speak to my daughter, Arial. She knows more about it then I do."

((Bounds in... In a good or bad way?))

Below, the pristine, clear waves began to gradually take on shades of dried blood, oil, and sickly green. Taking due notice, Ignition slightly angled herself to change direction; they would reach the lair soon. "I... see. Have you tried to look for them?" asked the Noc, tentatively.

---

Interested, the Wildclaw watched the Pearlcatcher's brief performance-- and lost her balance, prompting her to shriek again, before correcting herself frantically. "Goodness," she gasped, before speaking again. "I-I see! She sounds like a favorable character, I would love to converse with a fellow practitioner. Are there many mages in your family, Samuel? It seems as though the art of practicing magic runs deep within your clan." Her mind recalled the Skydancer leader, who emitted strong mystical energies from where he stood, and Kakkab's account of the battle with the Imperial and the Guardian.

(Good, hopefully.)

"Tried being the keyword there." Tristen replied with a sigh. "I have traced them all the way to dragonhome, but then the trail runs cold." He had tried everything, even went so far as mystics, with no luck. "But, i havent really been looking very hard. I was obsessing, and I needed to move on, so I have."

----

"You could say that." Sam said, eyeing the wildclaw careful. If she veered like that, and failed to correct herself, he would have to be ready. "Both my parents are practitioners, but most my clan knows one form or the other. Even if it is a simple tracking spell."

Likewise, the rolling waves and tide pools slowly gave way to the shifting sands that gave the expanse it's name. Soon, they would reach the canyon that carved the region in two and separated the desert storm from the highlands, which is where the lair lay.

The Noc looked in the direction of the Earthshaker's domain, then at Tristen; particularly his eyes. "Weren't they Plague dragons? Or, well, Earth dragons in the Scarred Wasteland for a journey," she ended in a murmur to herself. "Um.. Might I ask why you stopped? How do you feel now?"

---

"Ahh, that's fascinating. Most of us in the Swarm are more of, how should I say, mixed fighters, more on the physical side. Our dear Matriarch favors those who fight with fang, claw, tail, and wing over mages, especially female, for some reason." With delight, Deinomache took note of the change in scenery. "Ah, we must be getting closer! Hmm... the Stormcatcher's domain... is much more barren than I expected," she remarked, unable to keep the disappointed, yet somehow still curious tone from her voice.