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Personal Style
Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
12.95 m
Wingspan
6.51 m
Weight
7400.59 kg
Genetics
Silver
Phantom (Gaoler)
Phantom (Gaoler)
Black
Trail (Gaoler)
Trail (Gaoler)
Black
Scorpion (Gaoler)
Scorpion (Gaoler)
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Gaoler
Max Level
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
7
VIT
7
MND
7
Biography
Gerda
born Mista
The Founder of the New Bifrost Watch
A Tale of Watches Renewed
I peer at the great pines around me, frowning at the boughs as if they held the secrets of this new world within their song as they sway in the breeze. It is the third glade we have come upon, and yet I cannot help but feel that something is still wrong. I know my companions can feel it, and I do not blame them. We had been away from the land of our Father for far too long, and even now it is difficult to understand just how he let the world change. Well, he and our kin from long ago, that is. How could the Five Orders remain solely in our Father’s land, or really far beneath it, and ignore the Shade that had run rampant in the other Flights? It is true that my Seekers had struck out into other lands, but that only helped us contain the Shade where we found it. How could the cowards remain underground beneath our very Father when the Shade no longer hunted beneath their shadows?
I turn my head as one of my companions approaches, her hide clicking as she lifts her tail and sniffs the air. Halfrid is older than I, one of the first Seekers of the group to depart from our icy home, but she knows the old ways well enough to scout the land before us. She huffs softly, shaking her mighty head as she sits down, frowning.
“It is here too, isn’t it.” I turn to my other companion, a Gaoler of the Mother of Shadows named Menglad. Halfrid couldn’t believe it when I had hatched from an egg of Light, my parents lost to the battle against the Shade long before I had arrived, but by the time Menglad had shown up as a young one in our group, her disbelief had been stilled. The few Gaoler eggs that had arrived outside of our Father’s land had taken the eyes of others, but our purpose hadn't changed, and she understood that. It is why I’m the current head of our small party. Halfrid nods to the other Gaoler, her eyes narrowed as she glares at the trees.
“The Shade rests as strongly here as in every other land we’ve traversed.” Her voice is a deeper rumble, one on the edge of a snarl, and I don’t blame her. That must be what has me worried. The surface of our own homeland is infested with the Shade, touched just as these newer dragons are. I sigh, shaking my head. Just because the land is touched doesn’t mean it is fully tainted, and the same goes for the new dragons of our world. The only reason why we are here instead of under the very base of the Cloudscrape Crags is because of one of those modern clans. I can see Halfrid about to tell us to move on. I can feel it in the way she shifts, the glint in her eyes, and I know what I must do.
“We will set the new watch here.” I say, glaring at the two in turn as I await their nods. I can see the question in Halfrid’s eyes, but I resolve myself to explain fully later. I step forward, sweeping my tail with a clatter across the fallen nettles and pinecones, clearing away a small patch of land to reveal the new growth beneath the snow.
“The soil is good, the location is close enough to the Wanderers to aid them when needed, and the game practically leaps into our claws. There is a river of sweetwater nearby, straight from the Crags themselves, and there is plenty of material to build from.” I sit down, sweeping my tail over my talons as I stare at the two. Menglad is nodding in understanding, but I can tell Halfrid isn’t convinced. I await her rebuttal, and it comes swiftly, as it always does with senior Gaolers.
“What of the Shade? We are to hunt it down, not live in it. We’d be eating it, drinking it, bathing in it!” Her own tail hits the ground with a loud thump, and I can see one of the trees shudder nearby, it’s roots loose. I’m impressed it hasn’t fallen yet. I nod to her, trying to show that I understand her concerns, but it is the same thing I have heard for a long time now.
“Halfrid, we are not in the world of old anymore. The Shade has infected everything. Even dragons are touched by it, however lightly.” She huffs, glaring at me. She is in denial, and I know it. There is one thing I know that she doesn’t, however, and I can see that it really would be best not to hide it any longer.
“Halfrid, haven’t you noticed something? The scent of the Shade follows us with every step we take. Have you ever asked why?” She frowns at me, then shakes her head. Menglad knows where I’m going, and she raises her head higher, as if to keep some of her dignity. “It is because of us, Halfrid. Those born in a place where the Shade has touched the earth will always carry it in them. For the new dragons to all be infested as they are, the Shade must have reached even the farthest corners of our world. What exempts us from their fate?” She seems shocked at what I say, but I know it to be true. Even she has a faint scent of the Shade in her fur, having been born outside the original home of our kind underground, exposed to the monstrosity we fight every day. She glares at me, and I shake my head.
“If we already harbor it, even faintly, then it is already too late to be fretting over resting where the Shade once took root. Our entire branch was born above the ground. None of us were spared, Halfrid. So we must do what we can to fight it, big or small, despite our forthcomings. We will fight it, just as our forefathers did.” She sighs, lowering her head. Menglad nods her head, picking herself up as she shakes her hide of dried nettles, deciding this discussion is now over. I know Halfrid will need more consoling later, but now we must act. I turn to the two, raising my head.
“Go to our brothers and sisters that await us at the coast. Lead them here. I will start clearing the land for the Bifrost Watch.” I pull Menglad aside as Halfrid picks herself up. I lean in close and whisper to her as softly as I can. “Make sure you find one of those brothers Halfrid likes to help calm her. I think she needs one of them right now.” Menglad smirks, winking at me, and I huff in reply.
“Sure thing. They’re such a handsome set of lads, aren’t they? I’m surprised you’re letting Halfrid take them all for herself. Especially since the one tried to give you that ice light. If I recall, you took off one of his antlers early that season.” I push her away with my tail, and I can hear her snickering as she leads Halfrid away to the remaining Gaolers of our party. I huff, slamming my tail down as I try to forget what she had said. A loud creaking sound greets me, and I feel my breath leave me as something heavy falls on my back. I can feel the itch of pine needles as the loose-rooted tree finally topples onto my back, nearly pinning me to the spot. I growl faintly, sagging slightly beneath the weight.
I really should be more careful. It isn’t very becoming of a new leader to be beaten by a tree.
I frown at the nettles beneath my paws, my tail sweeping the ground clear as I think. I can hear the other Gaolers around me as they dig their new homes, clearing some of the pines that threaten to cave in their work. Some look at me, but I don't look back, and they leave with a worried frown set on their muzzles.
"We aren't enough."
I don't realize I've said it aloud until I see Halfrid staring at me, her eyes narrowed as she stands there, her shoulders holding up one of the fallen pines as the others tie lashes around it to haul it away. Finally, she sets it down, walking to my side before she settles down next to me. She has to step over the rut in the ground my tail has made as I think, my mind running in circles. Finally, she speaks.
"Enough for what?"
I frown, turning my head towards her as my tail stills. How do I explain this feeling I have? How do I tell her what's been bothering me for so long? Finally, I get the words out.
"Enough to do what we must, as Gaolers. We're descendants of the Seekers of old, but we must make a new Order to deal with those of us now born with the Shade tainting us. We're too small to do much of anything to contain the new dragons with their tainted forms, let alone handle our own. We need more Gaolers for the Bifrost Watch." She tilts her head, as if to ask if this was truly what was bothering me. It takes her a moment to reply.
"Then go get them." I shake my head, sighing. This is where I come across trouble. I do not know where to search, nor how long I would be gone. I don't know if more are needed to help rally the others, or if I must travel alone. I don't know what I'll need, and worst of all, I can't just leave the Watch without a leader. I say as much, and she nods her head, grunting slightly in affirmation as she turns her head to follow my gaze. We sit like that for a bit, watching the shadows as the sunlight dances across the woodland floor. She then says something I hadn't thought of before.
"Do you recall the old Order?" I nod my head. Of course I know the stories of the other factions and their leaders. Who didn't know of it? Halfrid even lived it! She nods back, smiling. "I don't think you recall everything." What am I missing? She bats my tail with her own, pushing it out of the hole I've made. "There was more than one leader, Gerda. You don't have to do this alone." I peer at her, and I know what I must do. I stand, folding my wings as I begin to head off to the north, towards the very home of dragonkind. I pause, looking back.
"Until I return, you are in charge. Consider yourself the first Watcher of the Bifrost Watch, Halfrid." I leave before she can reply, but I swear I hear her murmur something as I break into a run. I must find more Gaolers, for the sake of Sornieth itself!
Behind me, Halfrid watches me go, and she smiles softly with a grandmotherly stare.
"No, Gerda. You are the first Watcher of the New Bifrost Watch. I'll keep your Watch in your absence."
It was strange, at times, to walk the pieces of Sornieth not humbled by my Father’s cold, to see the endless and ancient clans thriving in the warmth, unaware of the sickness inside of them. How could beings directly created by the interference of the Shade, ancient or otherwise, be so unmindful of its lingering presence? My sole purpose is all but nonexistent with the vast majority of the clans that populated the ever-changing realm. Thoughts like these, I decided, were best suited for a time when my mind was not otherwise occupied.
I had found myself navigating the unstable cliffs of the Greatwyrm’s Breach on the hunt for Gaolers such as myself who had found themselves living away from the Icewarden’s domain. There was strength to be found in high numbers, and as the Shade lingered unhindered in nearly every corner of the world, my Seekers would need all the strength they could get. A different sort of strength, however, would be needed to pull my foot out of the crag it had slipped into yet again and continue onward towards my destination; the Pillar of the World.
Gaolers were attuned to the presence of the Shade, and the Pillar stood proudly in the center of Dragonhome as the last true battleground between the Shade and the Gods, my Father included. Such raw energies would certainly act as a beacon for my kind, drawing them in to contain the foul presence. As it were, the first Gaolers I stumbled across after my tedious journey numbered only two.
All three Gaolers were quick to realize during their brief conversation that we represented two different sides of the same battle; those who pledged to continue their ancestral Father’s work far away from home, and those who had given up the task in the pursuit of something not necessarily greater, but something different. These two were not the type of Gaoler I had expected to come across, much less the type I wished to recruit, but Ignis and Ember, as they were called, were still willing to provide information about the lands and advice for my journey. There was no judgement here, as each of our tasks were noble in their own right.
The Shade, as I had noticed and as Ember had confirmed, was rather well contained here given the circumstances. As both the first guardian and the last, the Earthshaker’s silent vigil underneath the pillar functioned better than any ward could have. Though this did not change the fact that the Shade still lingered after its initial exposure, it did help to soften the gnawing anxiety in the back of my mind.
My lesson then became more physical in nature as I was taught how to survive the lands I currently wandered. Gaolers were created to survive in barren lands, but Dragonhome was a completely different kind of barren than the Southern Icefield. I learned how to use the force of my claws to break the dried surface clay, revealing water underneath, how to forage for the sparse plant life that grew in between boulders and amidst the dust, how to tell if a creature’s burrow had been long abandoned or was still worth searching.
Though my time in Dragonhome may have been brief, there was a certain confidence to be found in the simple skills I had learned there. If a Gaoler, born of sleet and snow, could take on the aspect of other elements and learn to survive in their lands, perhaps we were just as resilient as the Shade. If her Seekers could learn, then they could chase the darkness through every corner of Sornieth; a hunt with no boundaries and a single goal. I will travel Sornieth to find any and all willing to partake, and we will hunt together.
Where this journey will take me, I do not know. No domain but that of my Father boast a high concentration of Gaolers, so it would be sensible to search the lands nearby. The lands of the Flamecaller would be my next target, and I pray to whoever is listening that I do not return home too singed.
~AlmightyAmu #345601
~BlackRayser #194073
I found myself before long to a place far different from the ice I knew. The jungles teeming with life surrounded me as I made my way forward, feeling something, something that was off and strange. While I needed to find others, I had to pause, detour and find out what was wrong. I was relentless in my search for the source of this feeling and forced myself past the point of exhaustion before stumbling upon a rather small den of dragons, situated in a meadow like clearing.
They introduced themselves as Starsky- an odd name for ones who nest in Nature, and odder still considering their matriarch was one of Wind. Still, they continued to introduce themselves as a place of healing and acceptance, and allowed me to stay for as long as I needed. I found another of my kind, one blessed with our father's icy gaze, and again I had to note how odd it was to find him here. Even further odd that he denied my offer for him to join us. This entire clan was just... odd.
Call it fate, yet I soon found the cause of my suspicion. A conversation one night led to the revealing that they were the survivors of a particularly intense Shade attack, one which claimed many members, yet didn't seem to keep them all. The mate of the matriarch was one such claimed, yet there he stood before me, scribbling in a small notebook, seemingly no worse for the wear. Immediately my suspicion rose, and upon further prodding, found that this clan experienced such odd happenings at an unprecedented rate. Dragons with special traits, birthed spontaneously from nothing, things that shouldn't exist. I immediately was on guard, yet even that decision seemed wrong.
Noticing my discomfort, the matriarch pulled me aside, chatting quietly about nothing until we reached a tree. It was here. The feeling, the wrongness, it was directly situated here. I jumped back, snarling, wondering if this was a trap. Yet, no, she simply sat there, calm as could be. It was at this tree she found her love alive again. It was this tree where she lost him. It was here that all manner of oddities seem to appear and occur.
I then realized, it felt odd, but not evil. Not malicious. This tree had an aura around it that I could hardly comprehend, but didn't match that of the Shade. I was so lost in trying to find something wrong I hardly wanted to accept it. I asked her what she supposed the tree was, and after a pause, she replied with a shrug, saying it wasn't for her to know. But she knew. We both knew.
I returned back with her and said my goodbyes to the odd place, having found what I came for. I continued my journey, more mindful now that strange didn't necessarily mean evil...
[fuwafuwa ~ 77568]
Saraceaser Here
In my travels, I had crossed paths with a red Pearlcatcher who whispered about terrifying things hidden in caverns deep below an Earth clan's lair while we shared the road. Believing this to be a sign given to me by my Father, I asked her for directions. She could not remember the exact route, but she knew most of the way, and other clans were content to point the way as I came nearer to it. It was a festival week, after all, and this potentially tainted clan was well known for its love of games and feasting in celebration of every flight. What could I be but another guest hoping to experience their generosity for myself?
The pearlcatcher was not wrong. I smelled it on the spirit that answered the flower-covered door to their lair. The touch of evil was upon her, though I do not think she knew it; it grew stronger as she led me to a black and white snapper in clothing coordinated to match his hide. Blacklight, they called him, and I have never heard a more accurate name. The joy and warmth radiating from him worked hard to mask the stench of death leaking from his every pore. As he spoke, another pearlcatcher passed us by with trays of fresh fruit in his paws, and while I could not see them when looking straight at him, the corners of my eyes were free to catch the clawing wisps emanating from his ashen body.
For a moment, I stood frozen to the spot, unable to understand what I had stumbled into. What kind of clan was this? Had the Split Heartwood dragons perished before I arrived, taken by whatever crawled through the lowest corridors? Had they always existed as a gathering of kindly ghosts, considered unusual but harmless in the eyes of their uneducated neighbors? I had been told the clan numbered between 40 and 60. How could I possibly handle so much corruption on my own? I would certainly become overwhelmed in the fight!
On the other hand, I didn't dare take the coward's path. I would have to do something--but what?
A heavy paw crashed down on my shoulder, startling me out of the whirlwind of my thoughts. I spun, expecting to be dragged into battle at any moment--
A great breath of relief rushed out of me all at once. It was another of my kind, albeit one who looked touched by Flamecaller's paw rather than the Icewarden's. His blazing horns and grass fire patterning brightened the dark and dreary meeting room, and I knew that I could not come to harm here. Not with another Gaoler present. Still, his presence in this place raised more questions.
He was kind enough to answer them in time. I discovered that most of the dragons of Split Heartwood were, in fact, living creatures. The three I had met before were the only ones defying the natural order. The clan had suffered a series of tragedies despite their determination to survive in a world which had not wanted them: a mind-controlling fungus uncovered deep in Shadow mines, near annihilation in the diseased Plague lands, the great blaze that'd taken most of the few remaining survivors in the Shifting Expanse. Darkness followed them wherever they went, though he knew not why; none of them called to it. Even the fae who had startled the pearlcatcher who guided me to this place was a protector in their own way; they guarded against the wicked, undead things crawling beneath the surface of Dragonhome, keeping them bound with terrible and costly magics.
The shifting of his dark gaze betrayed him, however, and I asked him the one question he did not want to answer: Why was he here, then, if these dragons were mere unfortunates with an existing handle on their problems?
The explanation did not satisfy me, but it was all I would get. The clan had offered him a permanent home on two conditions, and two conditions only. First: He would work with them to protect them from something they could not handle alone. Second: No outsider could be told what that threat was.
I protested. I had been right; there was something dark and horrible here!
And still he declined my help. Not even my offer to bring more of our kind to help could sway him. He smelled as clean to me as freshly fallen snow, and I sensed no deception cloaking his words. What else could I do but accept his position and wish him well? This was his home, and he knew it well. I, on the other hand, had been there all of two hours and seen perhaps three rooms. Between that and his greater size, I would be at a severe disadvantage if I decided to battle him for the right to choose how to proceed.
He gave me his name--Brushfire--and offered me a safe place to stay within the clan territories, but I found myself uneasy with the prospect of staying somewhere I could not help. Understanding this, he opted not to argue, instead giving me a map of the region and a fresh supply of provisions. These, too, smelled fresh and untainted, so I took them with gratitude, bowed, and departed with a promise that I would return if he changed his mind.
May the next place I search prove more fruitful. I begin to grow weary of this wandering.
The pearlcatcher was not wrong. I smelled it on the spirit that answered the flower-covered door to their lair. The touch of evil was upon her, though I do not think she knew it; it grew stronger as she led me to a black and white snapper in clothing coordinated to match his hide. Blacklight, they called him, and I have never heard a more accurate name. The joy and warmth radiating from him worked hard to mask the stench of death leaking from his every pore. As he spoke, another pearlcatcher passed us by with trays of fresh fruit in his paws, and while I could not see them when looking straight at him, the corners of my eyes were free to catch the clawing wisps emanating from his ashen body.
For a moment, I stood frozen to the spot, unable to understand what I had stumbled into. What kind of clan was this? Had the Split Heartwood dragons perished before I arrived, taken by whatever crawled through the lowest corridors? Had they always existed as a gathering of kindly ghosts, considered unusual but harmless in the eyes of their uneducated neighbors? I had been told the clan numbered between 40 and 60. How could I possibly handle so much corruption on my own? I would certainly become overwhelmed in the fight!
On the other hand, I didn't dare take the coward's path. I would have to do something--but what?
A heavy paw crashed down on my shoulder, startling me out of the whirlwind of my thoughts. I spun, expecting to be dragged into battle at any moment--
A great breath of relief rushed out of me all at once. It was another of my kind, albeit one who looked touched by Flamecaller's paw rather than the Icewarden's. His blazing horns and grass fire patterning brightened the dark and dreary meeting room, and I knew that I could not come to harm here. Not with another Gaoler present. Still, his presence in this place raised more questions.
He was kind enough to answer them in time. I discovered that most of the dragons of Split Heartwood were, in fact, living creatures. The three I had met before were the only ones defying the natural order. The clan had suffered a series of tragedies despite their determination to survive in a world which had not wanted them: a mind-controlling fungus uncovered deep in Shadow mines, near annihilation in the diseased Plague lands, the great blaze that'd taken most of the few remaining survivors in the Shifting Expanse. Darkness followed them wherever they went, though he knew not why; none of them called to it. Even the fae who had startled the pearlcatcher who guided me to this place was a protector in their own way; they guarded against the wicked, undead things crawling beneath the surface of Dragonhome, keeping them bound with terrible and costly magics.
The shifting of his dark gaze betrayed him, however, and I asked him the one question he did not want to answer: Why was he here, then, if these dragons were mere unfortunates with an existing handle on their problems?
The explanation did not satisfy me, but it was all I would get. The clan had offered him a permanent home on two conditions, and two conditions only. First: He would work with them to protect them from something they could not handle alone. Second: No outsider could be told what that threat was.
I protested. I had been right; there was something dark and horrible here!
And still he declined my help. Not even my offer to bring more of our kind to help could sway him. He smelled as clean to me as freshly fallen snow, and I sensed no deception cloaking his words. What else could I do but accept his position and wish him well? This was his home, and he knew it well. I, on the other hand, had been there all of two hours and seen perhaps three rooms. Between that and his greater size, I would be at a severe disadvantage if I decided to battle him for the right to choose how to proceed.
He gave me his name--Brushfire--and offered me a safe place to stay within the clan territories, but I found myself uneasy with the prospect of staying somewhere I could not help. Understanding this, he opted not to argue, instead giving me a map of the region and a fresh supply of provisions. These, too, smelled fresh and untainted, so I took them with gratitude, bowed, and departed with a promise that I would return if he changed his mind.
May the next place I search prove more fruitful. I begin to grow weary of this wandering.
Moles: the only creatures better at digging than an Earth dragon.
// Snek, BSJ 2019 //
If Gerda was looking for a place touched by the shade, than she certainly found it with the hewn city. She was able to sense the shade blighted land almost as soon as she had entered light, pulling her closer and driving her away all at the same time.
Standing on the light side of the boundary to the hewn city, the goaler looked upon the blighted blackened land with shear horror. This wasn't just a place mildly tainted with shade, this was a place where the shade had won.
"Are you alright- do I need to go mount a recovery ..." The skydancer's words tripped over themselves with haste, but as she saw that the dragon she had sensed, Gerda herself, was a gaoler dragon her words trailed off.
The two dragons staring at each other for a moment. Gerda taking in the translucent nature of the plague dragon, the way she was eerily reminiscent of the dragons of Split Heartwood, or just plain eerie. Astraea meanwhile tried to estimate whether she needed to fly off in a hurry, since while the presence of the hewn city would definitely help mask her own taint, there was still the element of risk from catching the attention of a breed known for being violently against corruption.
But Gerda had seen others already on her travels like this skydancer, and while she was immediately suspicious, she was also willing to not judge the skydancer immediately. Especially since the dragon had been about to offer help in response to sensing her horror.
Indeed after following the dragon back to her clan, and learning that Clan Starlight already had gaolers starting to address the source of taint sitting on their border, and that the clan was very well aware of their skydancer's condition, and had it well in hand, Gerda once more found a problem where she didn't have to stay.
Still unlike the previous case of a taint well in hand, the young gaoler pair was glad to have advice from another gaoler on how to proceed with their plans, and Gerda spent some time with them helping to plan proper containment for the taint being carried out the hewn city.
Standing on the light side of the boundary to the hewn city, the goaler looked upon the blighted blackened land with shear horror. This wasn't just a place mildly tainted with shade, this was a place where the shade had won.
"Are you alright- do I need to go mount a recovery ..." The skydancer's words tripped over themselves with haste, but as she saw that the dragon she had sensed, Gerda herself, was a gaoler dragon her words trailed off.
The two dragons staring at each other for a moment. Gerda taking in the translucent nature of the plague dragon, the way she was eerily reminiscent of the dragons of Split Heartwood, or just plain eerie. Astraea meanwhile tried to estimate whether she needed to fly off in a hurry, since while the presence of the hewn city would definitely help mask her own taint, there was still the element of risk from catching the attention of a breed known for being violently against corruption.
But Gerda had seen others already on her travels like this skydancer, and while she was immediately suspicious, she was also willing to not judge the skydancer immediately. Especially since the dragon had been about to offer help in response to sensing her horror.
Indeed after following the dragon back to her clan, and learning that Clan Starlight already had gaolers starting to address the source of taint sitting on their border, and that the clan was very well aware of their skydancer's condition, and had it well in hand, Gerda once more found a problem where she didn't have to stay.
Still unlike the previous case of a taint well in hand, the young gaoler pair was glad to have advice from another gaoler on how to proceed with their plans, and Gerda spent some time with them helping to plan proper containment for the taint being carried out the hewn city.
//Lilystar6//
I had just arrived at Wind’s territory and sat down to have a little rest. It still resembled the one from the stories I’ve been told by the elders but was so different at the same time. Dragons flying so high in the sky, riding the invisible currents of the air and letting themselves drop towards earth for play’s sake… it made my stomach turn in ways I never imagined. Felling dizzy just while observing those touched by wind, I could never imagine what I would find there.
We Gaoler dragons have stunted, powerful wings that are used to assist in digging, climbing, and battle rather than flight. This I knew to be true since the day I hatched… until I was invited by a small Wind dragon to its lair. Like all the places I’d been to before, Clan Àidhear too reached of the shade’s touch. The many travelers coming and going also added to this sickening feeling I always get, when getting too close to an infested area. The small dragon brought me to higher ground where an Inn – which they named Humming Chimes – was situated. The Innkeeper Keao proudly announced to whoever was willing to listen, that his was one of the biggest and most comfortable resorts for every traveler who seeks lodging, food and drink. The front was facing the middle of the clan's valley and had some skillfully arranged ornamental to it. The place was also stocked with a wide variety of potables and dishes typically for each flight in Sornieth, so one staying at the inn would be able to enjoy a little bit of 'home'. What surprised me the most was the perfect sized dish and cup for Gaoler they placed in front of me. They must had quite the numbers of my kind coming through her as it might have taken them some time to finish these and stocking them in their kitchen.
The inn’s very large main room was called the Whispering Hall, the main section to reach the caves for the inn's occupants and the community hall used for all kinds of clan and political meetings. As soon as I entered the hall, my eyes and ears were immediately drawn to something over my head. High up the ceiling, and along some of the walls too, I spotted a half hundred or more Wind Chimes hanging from chains, tinkling endlessly to the ever-blowing wind. I would have to get used to the sound as I was used to the quietness of my homeland; this extreme bustle of wind dragons made me a bit uncomfortable. Only the food was right above my expectations and I had an excellent meal that day.
Some hours had already passed as I was observing this clan and all the visiting travelers, as six – to me unknown – Gaolers suddenly entered the Whispering Hall and gathered around the tables. Sunned and excited by the sight of them, I decided to join and learn more about them. There was this Gaoler pair – with ice showing in the color of their coat but missing in their eyes – that were watching me quite attentively. The expression on their faces turned to a slight disbelieve as our conversation progressed to my mission and the task, I had committed myself to. It was then I noticed, how different these Gaolers of Sornieth truly were. They all had forgotten, who they really are! Bran and Snow both hatched from eggs that where taken outside of our Father’s land and had taken the eyes and customs of others. No-one had told them about their purpose, taught them the believes of our kind and made them understand those feelings lingering inside their very soul. The feeling we all get when getting closer to something touched by the Shade. It wasn’t their fault… the ones delegated with this big task had failed them. Only Skald was Ice-touched and therefore knew about our mission; but she was young and might had left home way too soon! I had spoken to her for quite some time when she confessed to me, that she had run away from home when she had been just a few months old; without consent from the five Wardens of the Orders. My heart dropped. How could we carry out our great mission, if those young ones were so impatient, not willing to listen and to understand? There were so many Gaolers without the correct knowledge out there already, brought into this world – now called Sornieth – without the blessing of ice and old. Perhaps...we truly had failed... but I have to keep it together! If I let my mind be clouded by those thoughts sent by the Shade itself, we’d never be able to carry out what we had tasked ourselves with. All wasn’t lost just yet, and those young Gaolers could still be brought back to the right way. Even though none of them was willing to come along, they promised me their help if we would ever need them for the fulfillment of our cause. It wasn’t much, but I was glad about their promise nonetheless.
The quiet Nizhalgal had been listening closely to every word I told them about the Seekers. He seemed very interested and willing to learn. When the others decided to leave to get some rest, he stayed behind to speak to me one more time. It was then I was hit by it: something unbelievable, so horrible I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. How did I not notice this sooner?! I let out a low growl, not letting Nizhalgal out of my sight.
"Shade-touched mongrel! Your scent reeks of darkness and shade. What are you?! You are no Gaoler! How could one of us be blessed by the Shade?!!”
This was the horrible truth: one of ours had hatched so close to the Shade so it was blessed by it! But, how was that even possible?! How could the Shade rest so strong in a Gaoler, the first children of the Icewarden, an ancient species of dragon created to be the custodians of ancient horrors imprisoned by the Old one himself, duty-bound to seek out and contain the Shade and all creatures alien to Sornieth. And here – right in front of my very eyes – was Nizhalgal, a young Gaoler blessed by the very thing all Seekers wanted to rid this world off. And by the looks of it, he didn’t even know! Wasn’t aware about the abomination he was turned into. An abomination with a quiet, warm hearth willing to devote himself to our cause. The irony! But what should I do?
What to do… I’ve got to get to know this young one with a very pure soul, willing to commit to the Seekers cause and hunt down the very thing that had infested him – blessed him even. I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt or even take Niz with me just to get him imprisoned. But could I really carry this burden, knowing I let a shade-infested Gaoler loose on the world? All bad he would do would be on me. I would be the one to blame if Nizhalgal would ever bow his head to the Shadow and join their cause. Could I really trust this young one’s soul to be this strong; or should I lead him away, get him back to the land of old and have the Orders involved in the matter. … They would surely crush him, the dragon sitting right in front of me would surely be lost forever if I would betray him like that, and his soul would be opened up for the infestation of the Shade. And it would be my fault as well. So, what should I do?
“What? What do you mean by that? I am touched by the Shade? … what does that even mean?” – Nizhalgal was watching me attentively, his shoulders stiff and a concerned expression on his face. I couldn’t do it – Icewarden help me! – I couldn’t do it to him. But I would be there for him, I had to. Whatever the future had in mind for this young Gaoler, I would help him keep his feet on the right way… and if I had to bind him down on it. This one would be made into a great Seeker.
“Ah… there is lots to talk about. It’s about your future, Niz. Let’s have another drink, shall we?”
~Juri01 - Clan Àidhear
We Gaoler dragons have stunted, powerful wings that are used to assist in digging, climbing, and battle rather than flight. This I knew to be true since the day I hatched… until I was invited by a small Wind dragon to its lair. Like all the places I’d been to before, Clan Àidhear too reached of the shade’s touch. The many travelers coming and going also added to this sickening feeling I always get, when getting too close to an infested area. The small dragon brought me to higher ground where an Inn – which they named Humming Chimes – was situated. The Innkeeper Keao proudly announced to whoever was willing to listen, that his was one of the biggest and most comfortable resorts for every traveler who seeks lodging, food and drink. The front was facing the middle of the clan's valley and had some skillfully arranged ornamental to it. The place was also stocked with a wide variety of potables and dishes typically for each flight in Sornieth, so one staying at the inn would be able to enjoy a little bit of 'home'. What surprised me the most was the perfect sized dish and cup for Gaoler they placed in front of me. They must had quite the numbers of my kind coming through her as it might have taken them some time to finish these and stocking them in their kitchen.
The inn’s very large main room was called the Whispering Hall, the main section to reach the caves for the inn's occupants and the community hall used for all kinds of clan and political meetings. As soon as I entered the hall, my eyes and ears were immediately drawn to something over my head. High up the ceiling, and along some of the walls too, I spotted a half hundred or more Wind Chimes hanging from chains, tinkling endlessly to the ever-blowing wind. I would have to get used to the sound as I was used to the quietness of my homeland; this extreme bustle of wind dragons made me a bit uncomfortable. Only the food was right above my expectations and I had an excellent meal that day.
Some hours had already passed as I was observing this clan and all the visiting travelers, as six – to me unknown – Gaolers suddenly entered the Whispering Hall and gathered around the tables. Sunned and excited by the sight of them, I decided to join and learn more about them. There was this Gaoler pair – with ice showing in the color of their coat but missing in their eyes – that were watching me quite attentively. The expression on their faces turned to a slight disbelieve as our conversation progressed to my mission and the task, I had committed myself to. It was then I noticed, how different these Gaolers of Sornieth truly were. They all had forgotten, who they really are! Bran and Snow both hatched from eggs that where taken outside of our Father’s land and had taken the eyes and customs of others. No-one had told them about their purpose, taught them the believes of our kind and made them understand those feelings lingering inside their very soul. The feeling we all get when getting closer to something touched by the Shade. It wasn’t their fault… the ones delegated with this big task had failed them. Only Skald was Ice-touched and therefore knew about our mission; but she was young and might had left home way too soon! I had spoken to her for quite some time when she confessed to me, that she had run away from home when she had been just a few months old; without consent from the five Wardens of the Orders. My heart dropped. How could we carry out our great mission, if those young ones were so impatient, not willing to listen and to understand? There were so many Gaolers without the correct knowledge out there already, brought into this world – now called Sornieth – without the blessing of ice and old. Perhaps...we truly had failed... but I have to keep it together! If I let my mind be clouded by those thoughts sent by the Shade itself, we’d never be able to carry out what we had tasked ourselves with. All wasn’t lost just yet, and those young Gaolers could still be brought back to the right way. Even though none of them was willing to come along, they promised me their help if we would ever need them for the fulfillment of our cause. It wasn’t much, but I was glad about their promise nonetheless.
The quiet Nizhalgal had been listening closely to every word I told them about the Seekers. He seemed very interested and willing to learn. When the others decided to leave to get some rest, he stayed behind to speak to me one more time. It was then I was hit by it: something unbelievable, so horrible I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. How did I not notice this sooner?! I let out a low growl, not letting Nizhalgal out of my sight.
"Shade-touched mongrel! Your scent reeks of darkness and shade. What are you?! You are no Gaoler! How could one of us be blessed by the Shade?!!”
This was the horrible truth: one of ours had hatched so close to the Shade so it was blessed by it! But, how was that even possible?! How could the Shade rest so strong in a Gaoler, the first children of the Icewarden, an ancient species of dragon created to be the custodians of ancient horrors imprisoned by the Old one himself, duty-bound to seek out and contain the Shade and all creatures alien to Sornieth. And here – right in front of my very eyes – was Nizhalgal, a young Gaoler blessed by the very thing all Seekers wanted to rid this world off. And by the looks of it, he didn’t even know! Wasn’t aware about the abomination he was turned into. An abomination with a quiet, warm hearth willing to devote himself to our cause. The irony! But what should I do?
What to do… I’ve got to get to know this young one with a very pure soul, willing to commit to the Seekers cause and hunt down the very thing that had infested him – blessed him even. I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt or even take Niz with me just to get him imprisoned. But could I really carry this burden, knowing I let a shade-infested Gaoler loose on the world? All bad he would do would be on me. I would be the one to blame if Nizhalgal would ever bow his head to the Shadow and join their cause. Could I really trust this young one’s soul to be this strong; or should I lead him away, get him back to the land of old and have the Orders involved in the matter. … They would surely crush him, the dragon sitting right in front of me would surely be lost forever if I would betray him like that, and his soul would be opened up for the infestation of the Shade. And it would be my fault as well. So, what should I do?
“What? What do you mean by that? I am touched by the Shade? … what does that even mean?” – Nizhalgal was watching me attentively, his shoulders stiff and a concerned expression on his face. I couldn’t do it – Icewarden help me! – I couldn’t do it to him. But I would be there for him, I had to. Whatever the future had in mind for this young Gaoler, I would help him keep his feet on the right way… and if I had to bind him down on it. This one would be made into a great Seeker.
“Ah… there is lots to talk about. It’s about your future, Niz. Let’s have another drink, shall we?”
~Juri01 - Clan Àidhear
Gaoler, Phantom, Trail, Scorpion and Level 25 on 08/02/2019
Completed on 08/02/2019
Adopted from the Writer's Hatchery
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