Nimonic

210 000

Primary: Pinstripe - 100 000
Tertiary: capsule - 110 000


Another sleepless night.

Tonight, it's not the fear of the beast's haunting cries that keep me awake. The hunger gnawing at my stomach is bad enough to keep me away from the nightmares. It's a blessing, if I'm honest. I won't be worrying Blucher by bolting awake howling in fear.

It's been a week since the Emperor destroyed the town. I still can't process what happened. Tall stone buildings that weathered the ages, full of dragons, 30 meter long Imperials, soldiers and warriors and mages and laughter and life and it's gone now. There's nothing left but rubble and frozen gore. It levelled an entire neighborhood just by walking through it. The concept still hasn't fully sunken in my brain but I don't want to think about it. I don't want to see the blood and the death and the fear but it's there everytime I close my eyes. Blucher says it'll go away in time but I don't believe her.

---

We will be leaving for our first excursion today.

The clan we're staying with is still overflowing with refugees and can't feed us anymore. The injured and the sick are getting the available supplies, then the young and the expectant and by the time it trickles down to us, there's nothing left. Brogan isn't young enough to be counted amongst the children; we're now truly on our own. Blucher says it doesn't matter and that we're old enough to make it on our own but I still feel like I'm just a scared hatchling who wants to go to a home that is long gone.

I don't know what to expect out there. Ever since our home was destroyed I've seen dragons fall to all manners of dangers; infections, beasts and despair have been the most common so far. I'm affraid one of us will be injured or worse but if we stay then we'll all slowly starve to death. We're out of options. When the girls awaken (if they slept at all), we'll take our first steps alone in the wild.





Emerald Webwing Company


Holding bio for a future Touba:

Fae, Rosette wings.

With wings barely useable thanks to a sickness caught in his early childhood in the Scarred Wasteland, Touba's life was all but forfeited when his new home in the Southern Icefields was destroyed by raiders. While the long march from the Frozen Floes to the refugee camps further inland would have seemed impossible for most dragons, Touba gritted his teeth and set out to use the adaptability his Flight of birth is known for. Draping himself in decay would keep him warm thanks to the heat emitted by the meat breaking down, provide a decent food storage thanks to the various bugs and grubs investing it and protect himself of the summer’s biting swarms by burying himself under the stench of death.

He traveled all summer under the midnight sun, alone, spooking the few of his kin who caught a glimpse of him. When night began to overtake the sky again, still a way away from his destination, he was intercepted by a small group from the Emerald Webwings, a mercenary company, called in to tackle the rumours of an undead roaming the area. After being caught by their ambush, it became clear to the small band that the “monster” they were sent to hunt was nothing more than a very desperate refugee, they instead brought him back with them as proof that this had been nothing but a misunderstanding. On the way back, however, it became clear that determination and moxie weren't Touba's only qualities. The little dragon had become quite a proficient at survivalism, particularly foraging, in his months of travel as well as being a very proficient self-taught spellcaster. He proved to be a surprising asset on their way back, helping provide them with extra food and finding them the best camping spots and even finding them shelter when they were caught unprepared by a flash blizard.

By the time they reached civilisation, a scant two weeks later, Touba was out of his questionable suit and into a green livery bearing the Webwings' sigil .