Whiplash

Cloudsong Celebration

It's a glorious day in the Windswept Plateau. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and, of course, the wind is blowing. Just perfect for a party... and everyone is invited!

The Cloudsong has always been considered a great place for a party, but today it is looking even more impressive than usual. Some of the clans who reside in the giant construct have been working day and night on preparations for the Jamboree, and it shows. Fresh paint gleams, polished wood shines, ribbons have been tied on every railing. A steady stream of dragons is heading towards the massive kite. Some are flying on their own, some ride in balloons piloted by Wind dragons, but all are eager to arrive and start enjoying themselves.

Even before visitors get to the Cloudsong, their entertainment begins. Squadrons of spirals fly past, performing feats of aerial acrobatics with breathtaking skill and synchronicity. Skydancers clad in silks and finery dart gracefully through the air. You even spot one playing a lute in midair, an impressive display of coordination. A snapper stationed on the landing platform is beating a drum and using Wind magic to make her voice carry on the breeze, singing a song of greeting to arriving guests.

Inside the revelry is well under way. Wind dragons are entertainers at heart, and scattered all through the wide open space are musicians strumming instruments, dancers whirling to the music, poets reciting epic compositions. All manner of dragons are flying overhead, performing tricks. They share space with enchanted kites that swoop and soar in formation. There is a face painting station for hatchlings in one corner. A spiral has a crowd in stitches as he demonstrates knot-tying, using himself as the knot. And everywhere dragons are hurrying around offering food, trinkets, and party favors to guests, because what is a party without food and presents? Try the toasted grasshoppers, they're simply divine!

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Come and enjoy yourself at the Cloudsong Celebration! This is a casual RP giveaway open to all flights for the duration of Mistral Jamboree. To enter, simply post a comment in an RP format about your dragons enjoying themselves and I will give you some cool stuff! It can be two sentences or ten huge paragraphs, you'll still get something nice.

For best results, make sure you have a wishlist somewhere easy to find, such as your profile or signature! I like fulfilling wishlist items, and try to give them priority.

Thread will update at least once a day with a little RP reply. You can enter once per day for the whole week.

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The enchanted kites belong to a nocturne with wings so obnoxiously bright, they almost hurt to look at. They fly around on their own when she is resting, but as she leaps into the air to lead a performance, they come from every corner of the room to flock around her.

First there is formation flying. They make a V, a diamond, a swarm of ever-changing shape as they follow their leader. They make a ring that the nocturne "jumps" through, fluttering dramatically. They form up in the shape of a nocturne and do a little dance with their leader, each mimicking the other in turn to great comedic effect.

It turns into a game of follow the leader as the nocturne flies in a loop. They form a wheel that rotates around and around, faster and faster, until she breaks away and rockets across the hall, the kites following. Up, down, through columns and around other fliers, soaring to the ceiling and swooping just over the heads of the crowd. She is flying at breakneck speed, and it seems like she must crash into something, but she never does. Her paper minions don't miss a beat, trailing her every move. It's like watching ducklings follow their mother, if ducklings could do an Immelman turn.

The performance ends with the nocturne suddenly flaring her neon wings out and stopping in the dead center of the hall. Her kites whoosh off in all directions, and as she does a little bow they rain trinkets down on the guests who watched the show.

---

New arrivals are greeted by a spiral dragon with stripes the color of bamboo and dark green horns swept back from a grinning face. Their wings shimmer the color of the summer sky, with a sheen of glistening Wind magic. Their eyes sparkle with joy and mischief as they loop through the air and wave to the assembling crowd.

"Welcome, welcome!" they call to new arrivals. "We're all so glad you made it! This will be the best Jamboree yet, I'm sure. Who wants to hear the thrilling tale of The Crescendo's Twist?"

Without pausing in their aerial acrobatics, the spiral launches into the story, their voice using Wind magic to project to every corner of the spacious room. "Once upon a time, the Windswept Plateau was host to the greatest storm of all time, a gift from Windsinger himself, the Twisting Crescendo. This huge storm was the heart and soul of the Plateau, clearing the skies and providing the air currents that allowed Wind's children to travel and dance in the sky. But one day... it disappeared."

The spiral stops their dance, hovering in the air and continuing in a somber tone. "The Plateau was struck with a terrible stillness. Dragons were unable to fly in the murky air. Windmills stopped turning. Commerce and travel ground to a halt. For one full month, the children of Windsinger mourned the loss of their heart. It was a terrible time."

"Yet all was not lost. This was not the end, merely a new beginning. One brave courier set out on a mission, to make a delivery that would reverse the misfortunes of the Plateau. For a month, he had carried a mysterious artifact of great power, unable to discover its intended recipient. But at last he encountered a lone dragon, one who had the ability to dance in the dead air." The spiral does a few twists and turns, stirring the air in the room with a fresh breeze. Vapor trails form in their wake, creating wispy clouds.

"After a great struggle, the courier delivered his sacred package, an idol of the Windsinger imbued with mysterious power. This power, combined with the spirit of the dancing dragon, caused a miracle!" The spiral is excited now, whipping around faster and faster as they tell their story. The wind ruffles the banners and ribbons strung throughout the Cloudsong. The vapor trails thicken with every pass, beginning to obscure them from view.

"The Crescendo was reborn, bigger and better than ever. Once more it enlivened the Plateau, and the children of Windsinger rejoiced. A new era had begun, full of joyfulness and opportunity, and every dragon in Sornieth now shares in the bounty!" And with that, party favors shower down from the miniature replica of the Crescendo that the spiral created with their dance, prizes landing at everyone's feet.

---

There are many, many dragons here that are dressed to impress and having a great time, but some still manage to distinguish themselves even in this crowd. Apeliotes is one of those few. Everywhere he goes, he's skipping or prancing or frolicking. Occasionally he uses his Wind magic to literally walk on air. His perfectly coiffed mane bounces just right with every step, his silks flutter in the permanent breeze around him, and a delighted grin is permanently plastered to his face.

And why shouldn't he be so excited? It's Mistral Jamboree, the very best week of the entire year! A whole week dedicated to the celebration of what makes Wind great, and to share it with all the rest of Sornieth! Look at all these guests who came to enjoy what Wind has to offer. Apeliotes is determined to make sure every single one goes home with a souvenir and a fond memory. He is, after all, an avatar of the most generous House in Wind. It would be abdication of his duty to let anyone leave empty-handed!

So here he is, bouncing around the party with unstoppable energy and infectious enthusiasm, producing an impressive number of gifts for everybody he talks to.

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"Fortunes told! Come one, come all!"

The imperial is brightly colored and brightly dressed, and she gestures dramatically as she calls party guests over to her table. A star chart hangs behind her, depicting the zodiac with fanciful illustrations of each constellation. The table is draped with heavy velvet and decorated with precious stones of all kinds, laid out to form intricate patterns. Tarot cards are laid out to one side.

The centerpiece is a large crystal ball. At first glance it seems like simply a polished grey rock, but in fact it is made entirely of labradorite, and its strange iridescence has attracted many curious onlookers. The imperial smiles and touches the crystal, and it flashes a startling array of colors: gold, blue, green, and even a hint of purple. It's like a rainbow trapped in a stone. Watching its mysterious interior gleam is almost hypnotic.

"My name is Tlazolmiquiztli, but you can call me Tla. And I can tell your fortune!" she says. "I can read tarot, tell your horoscope... or perhaps you would like me to peer into my lovely crystal ball! Indeed, it is wonderful to look at, isn't it?" Tla makes a show of staring into it, waving her hands in a complicated pattern. She taps it with one claw and it flares with color again, making the crowd titter with delight. "The future holds so many secrets. I can divine only one per person, but I can promise it will be good! The future will soon become the presents!" With only a sly wink to acknowledge her pun, she reaches under the table and distributes some presents to every dragon standing nearby.

---

In a small cleared space, a pearlcatcher is tossing her pearl up and catching it, over and over. It seems casual at first, repetitive even, but then she catches it with her tail while pulling out two more balls to juggle with, and the performance begins.

First there are simple tricks. She makes a few throws while reaching under one leg, she throws high and catches with her tail, she crosses her arms and does a little dance. Then her assistant, a huge dusky imperial, begins pulling random items out of a bag and tossing them to her, and things start to get wild. Soon she is juggling a tracker engine, a chunk of iron ore, and a bottle of unicorn dust. Somehow, she doesn't miss a beat, though her hands are kept very busy. She tosses a few items back to her assistant as he continues to throw things at her, keeping a rotation going.

The pearlcatcher herself is also rotating, stepping in a circle as items continue to fly through the air. A geode, a hunk of prehnite, a Wind runestone, and a stuffed mith doll all make appearances. She kicks up her heels and does a flip. Somehow nothing falls. Perhaps she is using Wind magic to help keep everything in the air, but nobody could begrudge her a little cheating when she is juggling six live pillbugs and balancing a clay pot on her nose. As the pillbugs mercifully disappear back into the imperial's sack, party favors make an appearance instead, and she juggles with each for a few seconds before tossing them out into the crowd for guests to catch.

---

A coatl is standing on a small stage. His manner is somewhat stiff and awkward, but he is dressed to impress and the sword in his hand shines beautifully as he holds it up. "Welcome all," he says. "I am here to demonstrate the art of swordplay. Please remember not to try what you are about to see. It would be extremely dangerous. Thank you and enjoy the show."

Prepared speech over, he takes up a fighting stance, holding his blade out. He demonstrates basic forms: thrust, chop, parry, block. He slashes, and the sword whistles with the speed at which he cuts the air. The advanced forms are like a dance. The coatl's footwork is impeccable as he steps forward and back, twirls and sidesteps. The sword whirls around and under and around again, a blur of movement. Uncountable imaginary enemies are cut to ribbons. For the finale, the coatl leaps, throws his sword straight up, does a backflip, and catches it again.

There is a scattering of applause, and he bows. "Now I will demonstrate the sharpness of the blade," he says. "It is battle ready and can cut with ease." He takes a fighting stance and nods to an assistant offstage, who begins to throw fruit. With unerring precision, he slices each one in half midair. Apples and pears are fairly easy, and make a satisfying thwap when cut. Bananas might seem simple, but not when they are being split lengthwise. A peach would seem to present some difficulties, but the sword is so sharp it cuts the pit effortlessly. A cherry seems like an impossible challenge, yet still the coatl finds his mark. The coup de grace is a large sugarmelon, which he neatly quarters with two lightning-quick slashes.

The coatl bows deeply, cleans his sword with a cloth, and sheaths it. "Thank you, thank you. Would anyone care for some freshly prepared sugarmelon?"

---

Erratio the Great and Powerful is wandering through the crowd, trying to get somebody to take him seriously. Anybody. He's been trying to impress people with his magic for hours now, and it's just not working. He's about in the mood to cast a curse on someone. The next person to cross him is going to get it, he swears.

A huge imperial dragon blocks his path. Erratio summons a burst of Wind magic to shove her aside. Instead, he accidentally blows his own hat off his head. It sails high into the air. He is so taken aback that all he can do is glare at it for its impertinence. Adding insult to injury, the imperial then rears back, plucks the hat out of the air, and returns it to him. "I think you dropped this," she says, and wanders off. He mumbles a thank you, then grumbles an oath once she's out of earshot. She got lucky. Next time, his wrath will strike without mercy! Or embarrassment!

A gaggle of unruly hatchlings run past, bumping into him. This really is too much. Erratio the Great and Powerful will not be disrespected like this! He summons his magic to cast a ghastly apparition. Perhaps a healthy dose of fear will teach these children to mind their elders. A howling wind-demon appears and chases down the hatchlings! ...who promptly squeal with glee at the pretty magic and demand to be shown more. Erratio the Great and Powerful has to make a quick escape.

Is this the end for his illustrious magic career? Surely there is some spell he can do correctly. He's worked so hard at it, and for so long! Well, perhaps he's just hungry. A simple summoning spell will get him some fish, and should raise his spirit. Erratio lifts his arms, and accidentally casts the spell twenty feet in the air, causing trinkets to rain down on everyone nearby.

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An ornately dressed wildclaw climbs onto a stage. He looks nervous, but only until a skydancer begins plucking out a mysterious and beautiful tune on a harp. Once the music begins, he is a changed dragon. He begins to sway back and forth. It's subtle at first, but soon his whole body is moving, and his polished finery flashes in the light.

He raises his arms, tracing complicated patterns in the air with his outstretched claws. The focus moves to his shoulders as he rolls them in a figure eight, fluttering his wings. He is wearing a sylvan and a feathered set over his real pair, and somehow all three are moving in slightly different directions. The effect is hypnotizing. He dips low, stretching his neck and tail out straight, then tucks them in and leaps absurdly high. Once, twice, three times he spins around, a whirl of color and grace, and lands solidly on his feet. All his jewelry chimes at the impact.

He is still only long enough to let the sound ring in the air, then he is moving again, and he does not stop. He is too caught up in the rhythm. On and on he dances, becoming one with the music. Sometimes he makes eye contact with dragons in the crowd, and winks or smiles alluringly at them. From the tilt of his head to the flick of his feathered tail, every part of him is in motion. The dance flows like water from his limbs.

All too soon, the song is over, and the wildclaw stops. He seems to notice the crowd he has attracted for the first time, and becomes nervous again. "Oh! Th-thank you for watching," he says. "Would anybody like some, uhh... stuff?"

---

In a stall tucked away out of the main space, a guardian sits at an easel, paintbrush in claw. She is working industriously away at a canvas in between visitors. It's difficult to make out what, exactly, she is painting, but the colors are quite nice. She is happy to set it aside and draw a quick portrait for anyone who sits down at the stool in front of her.

She's also quite content to let people stand around and watch as she works on her masterpiece; no stage fright here. "A prize if you guess what it is!" she says, but so far nobody has been able to win it. Is it a walrus? A still life of some fruit? The abstract representation of the feeling you get when you finally scratch an itch in a really hard to reach spot?? No, no, and no. Everyone gets a consolation prize, though, because she insists that participation in art is a virtue to be encouraged. Perhaps someone will figure it out when she has finished a little more. (It's a self portrait. A very abstract self portrait.)

She takes a little break to doodle some dragons walking past, and cheerfully hands them their portraits, along with some party favors. For truly, what is art if it is not shared with other people? The drawings are highly stylized and maybe a bit strange, but they are clearly drawn with love. The effect is rather delightful.

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"Peachesss, peaches!"

A colorful bogsneak with a cheerful demeanor is manning a stand stacked high with peaches. There are so many that he has to stretch his neck to be seen over them, but his voice is much harder to miss.

"Everyone come get your peaches! We have raw peaches, boiled peaches, braised peaches, grilled peaches, deepfried peaches, candied peaches, chocolate covered peaches, peach muffins, peach cobbler, peach salad, peach pudding, peach pancakes, peach flavored ice cream, and oh so much more! Here at Momo's peaches we have all the peaches you've never heard of!"

A young fae dragon flies up to Momo's stand. Reading the menu, he pulls out a few coins from a satchel on his back. Momotaro scoops a glob of peach ice cream bigger than his customer's head onto a cone and hands it to the little one. The fae flutters away, weighed down but quite pleased with his purchase.

As he waits for more business, Momotaro reaches down into the display case. He quickly snatches up one of the peach scones and shovels it into his mouth. Truly excellent. Another scone soon disappears. While he's at it he grabs a slice of peach pie and makes short work of it. He can't help it if his creations are works of culinary art! It would be a shame to let them go unappreciated!

Perhaps some free samples would drum up more business. He reaches behind the counter and pulls out a few samples to hand to passing dragons. "Come try a treat that's a real peach! I always say, an apple is an excellent thing... until you've had a peach!"

---

In a space near the center of the room, a mysterious skydancer has attracted a small crowd of hatchlings with a dramatic rendition of a story about the Windsinger. His audience hangs on his every word, not only because of his odd charisma but also because he illustrates the tale with trinkets that he pulls from his satchel. He has a seemingly endless supply of props. Anyone watching him will soon begin to wonder about the interior dimensions of his bag.

"...and that is why the Windsinger has no wings!" he says, concluding his current tale. He hands an ophiotauris figurine to the nearest hatchling and bows. "All true, I assure you. This story has been handed down in my clan for many generations, though few outside of Wind have heard it. But now you know!" His smirk is half hidden by the hood he wears, making it impossible to tell whether he is joking or not.

"Now, I have another tale to tell. Who wants to hear a story of the Windsinger's current adventures?" There is a predictable chorus of "Me!" and "I do!" The skydancer nods and flexes his wings, making the enchanted paint on the tips gleam. "Very good. Listen closely, for our most illustrious deity is always on the move, chasing the wind and making new discoveries. What has he found? Well..."

---

Tucked away in one corner of the room is a surprisingly spacious seating area. Here, dragons who need a little break from the festivities can come and sit down to eat, have a conversation, or simply enjoy the view from the huge bay windows. It seems like all of Sornieth is laid out below. The Zephyr Steppes stretch out in every direction, with the Sea of a Thousand Currents just visible on the horizon. Dragons of all kinds are constantly flying around the Cloudsong: coming, going, or simply playing in the howling gale that fills its sails.

Inside, however, it is peaceful. Only a gentle puff of air, perfumed with floral scents, stirs the observation deck. It announces the presence of a skydancer. She stands on her hind legs, wooden pipeflute in hand. Wind chimes hang from her outstretched wings. Flower petals constantly fall around her. She smiles, causing another breeze that makes the petals swirl everywhere and sets her chimes ringing. She plays a simple tune on the pipes to accompany the bells.

The song is slow and meandering, mixing easily with the ringing of the chimes. Sometimes the melody is easy to identify, sometimes it seems as random as the notes hit by the jingling chimes. But somehow it always harmonizes perfectly, and is pleasant to listen to. The refreshing breeze continues to blow, keeping the air sweet and the wind chimes in motion. The skydancer stands almost perfectly still, only moving to play her pipes. It is quite a change from most of the other music that can be found in the party, which ranges from merry to downright frenetic. Hers is tranquil and meditative, casting a spell of serenity over the entire area.

After some time, the last note trails off, and the skydancer smiles softly. "I hope you enjoyed my performance," she says. "I will play again after a break. In the meantime, feel free to try the refreshments in this area." She gestures to a table loaded with food.

---

The coatl from before has returned to his stage. This time he carries two short swords with oddly shaped tips. He holds them up as he makes a formal bow. "Ladies and gentledragons, I present to you the Singing Swords. This is a rare art form, practiced only by Wind dragons. Please enjoy."

He begins to twirl the swords around in circles, starting slow and then accelerating. There is a whistling as the strange tips begin to cut the air. Soon it is a musical noise, rising in pitch as the swords go faster and faster. The swords really do sing. As they rise to a pleasing pitch, the coatl puffs out his chest and hums along with them, as loud as he can.

He begins to twirl one sword at a different speed than the other. It goes faster and slower, making the pitch slide up and down in a weird, liquid melody. The coatl hums in harmony, singing a song that only his kind can understand. He begins to whirl the blades in complex patterns, making it a visual show as the notes slip around and chase each other. The strange song and the spinning swords are almost hypnotic in their effect. Around and around they go, flashing in the light. At one point he even leaps in the air, and both blades spin faster, shrieking a high note. He lands and sings a solo, keeping the speed of the swords steady while he hums arpeggios.

The song ends on a satisfying octave, one sword spinning twice as fast as the other. Then the coatl stops abruptly in a dramatic pose. He is panting, but quite pleased with himself as he bows and exits the stage.

---

It's the end of the week, and most people are all partied out, but Cyclone is still going strong. She whips across the open hall at top speed, putting on an impromptu air show as she makes sure everything is in order. There is much to do: scheduling the last ferry balloons so that guests are not stranded on the Cloudsong, beginning the after-party cleanup operation, ensuring there is enough food and drink to last to the end... but most importantly, distributing all these party favors! There are still so many left to pass out. Nobody is going home empty-handed, not on her watch.

She pauses momentarily to dance to the music of a nearby band. Her jewelry jingles merrily as she whips around and around, enjoying herself thoroughly. Then she is pressing trinkets into the hands of her fellow dancers and moving on. She samples some delicacies at a food vendor, compliments him warmly, and gives him a necklace. She attends the final performance of one of the dancers, and claps wildly at the end, hovering so she can applaud with her feet as well. Cyclone's mission is to make sure the last day of the Jamboree is as fun as the first, and she takes her duty very seriously.

Gradually the pile of trinkets and prizes left dwindles, but there are still a few left. Cyclone grabs some in her arms, taking off for the last few revelers she can see. "Hey, you!" she calls out. "How would you like some awesome prizes?! We've still got some great stuff..."

---

"Hello, hello!" booms a large Ridgeback lady. She walks with a self-confident swagger, towering over many of the others at the festival. In her hand is a bow, which she holds with the ease of long practice. "I'm Zephyr, and today I'm going to show you all some archery, the likes of which you have never seen before! I can guarantee you will be amazed."

She whips out an arrow, nocks it, and aims at a large target set up nearby. With a whistle and a thunk, she makes a perfect bullseye. She smirks a little, backs up ten paces, and looses another arrow. It, too, finds its mark. Zephyr backs up once more, the gathering crowd scurrying out of her way. A third arrow hits the bullseye, and the crowd claps.

"Easy," she smirks. "Perhaps something a bit more interesting?" An assistant pulls the arrows out of the target, and tacks a playing card onto the bullseye. The ace of spades. Zephyr steps forward a few paces and takes a confident stance. "Some dragons like to say they have an ace in the hole, but how about a hole in the ace?" With apparent ease, she puts a hole dead center in the ace, and bows.

"All very well, but now it's time for a REAL challenge." Zephyr produces an apple and holds it up. "Any volunteers?" The crowd titters nervously, and she laughs. "I'm joking, of course! No volunteers will be necessary." She sweeps her hat off and sets the apple on her own forehead. There are a few gasps as she nocks her next arrow and turns to a stone wall. Will she really attempt such a risky shot? How can she be sure which way it will ricochet? Perhaps she will use Wind magic to alter the course of the arrow.

With a soft thwack, they all have their answer. Zephyr grins in triumph as the apple tumbles off her head, arrow dead center through it. The crowd applauds wildly, and she bows several times.

"Well, that's one way to make applesauce! I've got a few more for mementos, but do remember not to try this at home." Zephyr begins to hand out some apples and other prizes. She's got a pretty good arm too, and lobs some to dragons standing further away.

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Mysterious priestess whom demonstrate all forms of Wind magic