dillykai's dragon Cerridwen

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

22.2 m

Wingspan

17.72 m

Weight

5878.68 kg

Genetics

White
Speckle

Black
Current

Ice
Underbelly

Hatchday

Nov 18, 2015
(8 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Plague
Common

Level 7 Imperial

EXP: 1317 / 11881

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Ithel
Emyr

Biography

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_______________________________

_..

◜__________________________________________________________________◝

f o l l o w y o u r h e a r t

i.
She grew up in the land where strength was everything; weakness was to die, strength was to survive. Cerridwen learnt by example, and the Scarred Wasteland taught her well.

This was the first lesson- love was weak. It did not solve anything, nor did it prove useful. The lesson was imprinted and learnt the moment she hatched, and was left to fend for herself in the wastelands. " if she was strong, she would make it by herself. " and this was the lens with which she looked upon the world ever since, lesson pressed and drilled into her. Weakness was not an option. And she held on to this view even as wing and claw and feet brought her from one side of the Wyrmwound to the other; as she fought and trailed and manipulated her way through the only home she had ever known. And it was a year after her hatching that she found them.

Really, she hadn't meant to stay. Really, the size of the lair itself had filled her with disdain. A small collection of five other dragons- it could hardly even be called a clan. But the day had been long, filled with treacherous beasts and constant danger from hostile clans. And she was so, so tired of being on constant vigilance. When the group had offered her a place to sleep and a bit of their food, she had weakened and accepted. Really, she shouldn't have. Really, she hadn't meant to fall in love.

Maybe it was the genuine acceptance the clan had took her in. Maybe it was how they had asked no questions of her. Maybe it was her own heart, betraying her. Maybe it was Sumiko, the one who had found her and brought her into the clan. Granted her a place to stay, and later took her on to train so that she might have just a bit more probability of survival. She has been eager to please the older Imperial, young foolish heart aiming to impress with how quickly she learnt- but there was never the words she wanted; needed to hear from the other. And where her heart failed her, her eyes saw the truth, and her mind reaffirmed it- Sumiko would never look at her the way she wanted, for the warrior only had eyes for the Ridgeback with green eyes. And Cerridwen found herself with unrequited love, of which she knew not what to do with.

She could only hope that time would erase it, but instead time watered and nurtured the small tendril of feeling into a flowering tree of love; immovable, everlasting. And as the clan expanded, she took on larger roles- partly to escape, mostly as another effort for Sumiko to notice her. Cerridwen became a trusted counsel in matters of battle, and indispensable when it came to spying. She discovered that she had a gift for listening, found that dragons often ran their mouths if you wore the reputation of an airy, flighty girl who never listened to what anyone said. And she brought the information she gleans back to Sumiko, hoping each morsel would be enough someday.

But it never was. And as a last ditch effort, she decided to return to her travels once more. She had not left the territory for long since a year ago, but for this she would do it, if only for her peace of mind.
She would offer Sumiko the only thing she knows how to do. For Sumiko was always itching for battles and more territory, and maybe by bringing her information she could help with that conquest. But why stop at the Scarred Wastelands? Why not other clans from across the border? With permission from her clan, Cerridwen left.

« eyes to the sky, ears to the ground »

ii.
The wind would guide her, she decided. Cerridwen had never left the Scarred Wasteland,
so any direction should be as good as any other. She should have known the wind would carry her south, to the home of the winds themselves. Soaring over an expanse of the healthiest green Cerridwen had ever seen, she felt utter contempt for the creatures that lived below her. How, in such a soft world, would anything ever have the chance to grow strong? She circled slowly, preparing to descend. Sumiko could probably conquer this whole place by herself, but it would pay to gather information properly.

A tower, built of bamboo and perched precariously on the edge of a cliff overlooking a mass of water bigger than any Cerridwen had ever seen, caught her eye and she angled her wings that direction. Her approach was heralded by happy shouts that only confirmed the imperial's initial impressions of this land. This pitiful band below her should fear the appearance of a strange dragon, particularly one of her size and strength, but instead they allowed their hatchlings to stand outside and gawk up as if they were watching a sunset.

She settled on the grass, surprised for a moment at how soft it felt under claw, and stood, waiting to be approached by whomever was in charge. And if she left her fairly impressive wingspan flared a few moments longer than strictly necessary, well... Someone needed to instill proper self-preservation into these dragons.

Cerridwen wasn't kept waiting long. A little green fae and a purple mirror soon appeared, tugged impatiently by a virtual flock of hatchlings and half-grown fledglings. Was anything smaller than a hatchling fae? Looking at the little gray one that sat on the mirror's head, the Plague imperial didn't think so. The mirror looked her over, but didn't speak.

"Welcome to the Tower of the Summer Squalls!" the green fae piped. "What wind brings you here today, traveller?"

"I'm travelling the world," Cerridwen replied, deciding that even if this clan could be easily overrun, it would be easiest if they weren't put on their guard. And wasn't travelling something Wind dragons did all the time?

The fae invited Cerridwen to stay with them for a bit, an offer the imperial happily accepted. But the longer she stayed, the more she learned that this clan wasn't what she had thought. On her first morning, she woke to the sound of two massive creatures sparring. Glancing out her window, she saw an imperial dragoness and a guardian drake paired off. The imperial held a trident in on claw, her massive wings beating a hurricane down onto the ground, and the guardian, below her. The smaller drake crouched, wings flared and sword hilt in his jaws.

Now that she was watching, the Plague visitor could see that they weren't the only two warriors practicing. A wildclaw and an armored pearlcatcher were circling each other, sizing one another up and looking for weaknesses. A pair of pearlcatcher mages traded spells. One imperial sat by herself, watching the various matches and scribbling something in the dirt that she quickly wiped away whenever anyone drew near. With a low groan, she realized that even one of the coatls Cerridwen had identified as a harmless scholar was practicing.

Well, she had wanted information and here it was. As she winged back north, she would ponder the puzzle of how such a soft land could produce the strong warriors she had seen this morning.

« where the sky meets the sea »

iii.
Cerridwen did her best to follow the way she had come, but she wasn’t used to the way the winds seemed to wind around her wings, forcing them to curve and dip in ways that they shouldn’t have to bend. After a few hours of flapping tiredly (and nearly breaking her wings once or twice) Cerridwen was forced to swoop down onto the ground.
The texture of the ground was interesting: gritty and sandy, but also strangely smooth and velvety. It made Cerridwen’s claws itch, and there was a strange, tingly feeling in the air that made her ears ring slightly. Grumpily, Cerridwen forced herself to ignore the sensations and tried to examine her surroundings. The sky was starting to slowly darken, but strange pink spires still reflected off quite a bit of sunlight. There seemed to be no signs of life.
After checking the surrounding area for a little while (startling a deer that she quickly caught and killed) Cerridwen decided to settle back and try to relax a little. A small breeze was picking up, and the sun was nearly down, sending blood-red rays of light that reflected off of the pink rocks and painted the sky orange and magenta.
“Pretty sight, in’t it,” a croaky voice asked cheerfully.
Cerridwen startled, whirling around and pinning the owner of the voice, a large Skydancer.
“Easy there, lass,” he murmured, delicately pushing off her claws one by one. Cerridwen was a little shocked by his boldness (although that was followed by a flash of contempt for his lack of self-preservation. Great Plaguebringer, did no dragon have common sense outside of the Wyrmwound?) and did nothing to prevent him (a fact that she would berate herself for, later).
For a moment, Cerridwen’s claws hung in the air awkwardly before she forced them onto the ground, feeling decidedly foolish.
“Spooked ya there, din’t I,” the Skydancer chuckled. “Don’t worry lass, I ain’t here to hurt ya.” He blinked his purple eyes innocently.
“What were you doing, sneaking up on me like that,” Cerridwen demanded. For that matter, how had she missed him? The Imperial had very thoroughly looked around the area. Perhaps the weird tingling in the air was affecting her in some way?
“Mmm, you’re a Plague lass, ain’t ya,” The Skydancer took Cerridwen’s silence as acquiesce. “Plagues usually don’t go ‘round much, do they? Well, I’m a Shadow dragon, sneaking up ‘n’ scaring folks is what we do, ya see.”
There was something decidedly wrong with that statement, Cerridwen thought. The Skydancer seemed to pick up on her discomfort because he gave a disarmingly charming smile before taking a few steps away from her.
“I’ll see ya around, lass. Watch out for them Arcane dragons, wontcha? Would hate for you to get turned ‘to an experiment.”
He disappeared suddenly, vanishing into the shadows like he had never been there. Cerridwen swallowed nervously. Was he still around, she wondered. And what did he mean by experiments? Perhaps, she thought ruefully. This wasn’t going to be as easy as she had thought.

« the great blue deep »

iv.
During her journey, she saw an airship that looked as though it were built for battle flying above the Sea of a Thousand Currents. Curiously, she followed it, wondering what sort of clan would have such a power looking vessel. She was surprised again when she found it flying and docking at another tower on the Windswept Plateau. Though the tower was tall, it looked as though it housed no more than 20 dragons.

Cerridwen was baffled. What did such a small clan need of such powerful defenses? Was the Windswept Plateau more dangerous than she had initially thought? She must stay and find out.

During her stay, no one spoke of battle or war or any threat. Instead, they seemed a rather peaceful clan, all living together as a family, though very few were actually tied by blood. It went against everything she had been taught growing up, and yet here they were, strong and free. Eventually, she could take their kindness and hospitality no more, and she took off, heading towards Shadow. Maybe those dragons would be more sensible.

« a rest for the wings »

v.

"Hello?" Cerridwen peeked around the corner of the gates, unsure of what to do next. The dragons in the last clan she had visited suggested she come here next. But the whole place seemed to be deserted. "Is anyone here?"

At that moment, a flood of dragons came running through the square, yelling about new royals and something about a nest. One of the dragons stopped and turned to her, eyes alight. "Hey. Hi, are you new here?"

"Um, well, not really. I'm just visiting."

"Oh, totally! Where are you planning on staying?"

"Don't...don't you have an inn or something?"

"Uhh...no. No at all. Gosh. We really should have one of those..."

Cerridwen smiled, laughing. "That may be a good idea."

"Anyways, we are going to celebrate. The royals just hatched a nest. Would you like to join us? There's going to be a rather epic feast!"

Accepting the offer, Cerridwen wound up spending close to two weeks in the clan. Eventually, she decided it must be time to move on. For as wonderful as this rest had been, it would never feel like home.

« A quiet solitude »

vi.

Cerridwen left the Tangled Woods and looked around her, unsure of where to go next. A large tree in the distance caught her attention. She turned and flew towards the tree, unsure of what to expect.

Landing on the shore she immediately noticed the fresh smell, unlike most places she had visited. Plants got caught in her claws as she treaded through the trees that where slowly growing closer together. The absence of dragons made her wary of this place.

" Hello?" She called out, listening for any answers. A twig broke behind her and she whirled, ready to defend herself.

" Hello. What brings you here?" A green and blue wildclaw asks, looking at her in curiosity. She looks at the wildclaw for a few more seconds.

" Oh what does it matter. Welcome to the Virdian Labyrinth. Come join us for a feast. We don't get many visitors this far in." He says. Behind him more dragons appeared from the trees. Cerridwen looked at them in curiosity. She shrugged and followed them into the trees.

« let the wind guide your wings »

◟__________________________________________________________________◞

_..

vi.

Cerridwen exuded a slight trepidation as she trailed behind the strange Wildclaw, for despite his jovial nature, she had learned that practicing a healthy caution often went a long way in the harsh wilds. Not all dragons were kind-hearted souls, after all, and she would have hated to be caught unawares.

The own malicious intent she harbored was clear in the calculating sharpness of her crimson eyes, grazing over the formation of the rock around her and the hide of the Wildclaw before her, pinpointing the softer contours of his figure in case she should need to sink her teeth into one of them. The foliage about her danced lazily, leaves producing a percussive symphony as they rustled endlessly and cast a gentle, crystalline light down on them. The air was cloying with the scent of flowers and mulch, and the beauty of it was lost on Cerridwen, a vessel of plague who had long learned to despise the clans of the glade.

The branches weaved in thick ceilings above them, and she knew that attacking from the air would have been nigh impossible. Sumiko would not attack a veritable fortress that was shielded by nature itself, unless - her eyes brightened, flashing as if light from within by verdant coals. Fire. Surely Sumiko would admire not only her knowledge of conquerable land, but the profusion of a battle strategy that even the fierce warrior could admire. It was only then that she realised the Wildclaw had been rambling on about some sort of feast, but fodder was not one of her prominent interests. "Ah yes, it sounds lovely," she droned mechanically, infusing her words with a breathless excitement that she supposed would fit such an event.

Soon after the stranger announced their arrival at their home, and Cerridwen could see it was merely a hove beneath the roots of a massive tree, so large that Cerridwen was sure it could be seen from miles beyond its location. Unimpressed, she continued to follow the Wildclaw, thinking acerbically of how all nature clans seemed to make their homes beneath trees. It seemed a foolish decision, for trees had a habit of falling in strong winds or burning in the midst of thunderstorms. However, she admonished, gaze traversing the open maw of the tree's front, a very easy target. The edges of her lips quirked into a satisfied grin, but one could easily mistake it for simple-minded awe of the mystic tree.

A swift glance about the table revealed that many of the dragons were composed of soft flesh, their hides drooping unflatteringly in some places where they should have been coiled by wiry muscle. The goofy grins that they sported held no suspicion of her at all, and she knew that this would be a target that was far too easy. "You know, I, uh, don't really do well in crowds," she whispered to the Wildclaw, her voice falsely apprehensive. "I think I'll just be off, thank you kindly for your hospitality and may our paths cross again." The Wildclaw seemed confused at her abrupt turn-about, but smiled and nodded at her as she took to her wings, their tips brushing the soft ferns that bordered the path. She careened down the way they had come, eager to share her information with Sumiko. Perhaps now the warrior would notice her.

code

this dragon belongs to dillysAlt, user 203513

part of the lore colab Feb 2018

notes; one paragraph from each clan. copy paste the previous paragraph for coding and start writing there

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