Kismet's Clan

Clan Info

+3 FR Time (EST)
Pronouns: they/she
Age: 25+

This is a lore lair, it is my ambition to give every active dragon SOME lore. If you have lore-related babies to unload, I can probably be talked into it.
I LOVE helping newbies, and spend an unhealthy amount of time int he coli; if you need foodstuffs, hmu!

The Abersteth Citadel
Formerly known as "The Deepden Citadel"

We dig our claws deep into this earth, and we carve and cleave until we are masters of our domain.
We will not forsake the Stormcatcher's lessons simply because we now find ourselves outside of His borders.

A stone's throw from the border between the Shifting Expanse and the Sunbeam Ruins was an old military outpost. Its heavy, ancient gates hid a secret; a city carved into the solid rock behind the cliff face of the Carrion Canyon, constantly churning with activity. Even centaurs and serthis flocked there, and many of the Expanse's great skyships docked on the plateau above to rest before braving the skies above the desert.
The Deepden Citadel had been magnificent, carved over years by various Ridgeback residents. Its industrious inhabitants were constantly improving its structure and its facilities; temples to every deity known to dragonkind-- and some to beastkind. A grand library. Gardens containing the plants of the world.
Deepden had been magnificent, right up to its fall.

The leaders of Deepden tried to convene who they could after the fall. Some had been lost, some had simply fled. The rest huddled together on the deck of The Dreadcoil, even as the pirate ship strained and heaved to carry them all across the skies. Many among them had never stepped outside of Deepden's walls before. It was clear that they needed stability after such a sudden, violent upheaval.
And so The Dreadcoil pointed its prow northward, towards Dragonhome.

The dragons of Deepden found a canyon, much like the one they'd left. They found the entrance to an old, forgotten tomb, long since looted.
The Lightning-bred among them felt a familiar spark of industriousness, and work began to carve a new city from the rock.
"Abersteth" had come to the Priestess in a dream. The Nightmare-Weaver mentioned something about it meaning "escape" in a forgotten tongue. It sort of stuck after that, bouncing from the councils to the scholars to the guards and onward.
Years later, the Abersteth Citadel still grows, the scattered fragments of Deepden slowly but surely shifting neatly into place like cogs in a reassembled machine.

Roaming Dragons
Miramar, travelling Sornieth for lore

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