WanderingComet's Clan

What is the value of a life, if not pushed to its greatest potential? What does one turn to, to find meaning?

Ambition. Ambition above all.

This spark, this mantra, is what originally inspired Head Scientist - now Matriarch - Yarmella to fund her research air-ship, the Wandering Comet. Her vessel provided free and open research potential to anyone who wished to join, with the only stipulation that everyone work in harmony. No naysayers, no obstructions. Do as you will, support your neighbor, and never impede on another’s dream.

A naive approach, perhaps, but it proved fruitful as dragons flocked to her ship. A team of one became a team of two, ten, twenty; scattered souls came together to make a misfit family.

Under the watch of the Arcanist, Wandering Comet enjoyed several years floating over the Starfall Isles. Under Yarmella’s wings did specialists of every kind flock. Connor with his cartography, Astra with her mysticism. Calamity on the fringes with his dubious medical studies, and Melodia with her bountiful garden and botanical skills. And many more, some there seeking solace from a murky past or others yet simply desiring the company of free thinkers.

A routine settled in. A happy one, of coming and going, sharing of experience and the expanding of horizons.

But what happens when ambition continues to burn, threatening the boundaries of a simple life? What monsters may you invite, when you leave your door ajar?

Amelios had joined the flight quietly. In fact, she had slipped into Yarmella’s numbers so adeptly, most dragons couldn’t even pinpoint when she had appeared. Certainly, she had been here most of the time, no?

The crew thought little of it. There was so much activity it was truly impossible to keep track of everyone’s whereabouts. But the head scientist was no fool. A sinister presence had washed over her.
Noticing Amelios was like finding a new marking on your skin. Impossible to ignore, demanding investigation. Her frills on high alert, the little Fae did confront the larger Imperial. Mustering up her courage, Yarmella demanded answers. And what she found, to her surprise, was a smile in return.

Amelios loomed over, the sweetest disposition gracing her features.

“My little moth. What finally drew you to my light?”

What came of that conversation can only be extrapolated by what followed in the coming months. Yarmella became more focused on her work, razor sharp in her regiment and attitude. The pink skies of the Arcanist’s domain gave way to the shadowed skies of the Tangled Wood. This new allegiance, Yarmella told her crew, was to bolster their research. It was necessary.

Necessary for what, she would only loosely hint at. The once forthcoming leader had shifted, taking on the new mantle of Matriarch with confidence.

Now, she finds herself at the brink of discovery. She can feel it quivering in her frills like static, in the very air around her. Something dark and knowing sits in her peripheral vision, and she will not allow anything to steal her away from this impending glory - even the undercurrents of dissension amongst her members, and their clashing ambitions.