fleurprincet's Clan

You ascend a winding staircase to be met with an arching doorway, draped with a flickering gauze, changing hue with every movement. Push past it - and you are in the makeshift throne room. The soft floor sinks beneath your feet, and a trail of mist follows you, swirling underfoot. The last rays of the sun filter through into the domed hall, stretching wide before you.

The clan you have entered are nomads, travellers with no permanent abode. Storm-stained banners adorn the walls, hastily constructed to match the tall pole with the emblem of the Wind, the most frayed of all, hovering above a treasure-encrusted chair. It stands on a raised platform, surrounded by cushions on which other dragons recline, bathing in the dusk that fills the room.

The fae upon the throne appears no different from the rest, reclining almost idly in eir arrow pointed seat, but the mischievous glint in eir eye suggests otherwise. Ey hold emself herself with the poise of a leader, emitting an air of confidence that seems to wash over the central house. Eir tail flickers with curiosity as ey lean forward, gaze raking almost impatiently over you, inhaling your essence.

"Took you long enough to get here."

A shrill, melodious voice, slightly husky.

Amused.

"Yes," the fae continues, spreading eir wings and edging forward in the seat. "We are a nomad, travelling clan, we know the Winds like no other. Of course we knew where you were headed, and we welcome anyone who dares seek us out."

Eir face splits into an eager smile.

"Welcome, traveller, to Clan Aphelion."