Zenzic

-Text from Fallen London

Expect the unexpected...unless you're already expecting that.

There are lengths you can go with Arcane magic, and like with the Arcanist, there are consequences if you go too far. He/it.

Riot of Rot 2021 Meteorbomber

The festival had started with a bang. Both metaphorically and...physically. You rarely look to the sky, as the yellowish haze in the Scarred Wasteland is...fairly unpleasant, but for some reason you glanced up momentarily and saw the brilliant flash and the heard the corresponding kaboom. You jump as a large, pink ball of flame crackles through the atmosphere above you, lighting the area around you a bright fuchsia. It seems to be heading...no, it couldn't be.

The violet-flaming meteorite grows larger and larger, and you hurl yourself out of the way as it crashes into the space in front of you. The tendon-like tendrils that cover the ground shrivel in the fireball that results from it, and a dragon that gravity seems to ignore tumbles from the wreckage of the deep purple stone.

He shoots upright, eyes too wide and grin too wide, and his gaze falls on you. You freeze, wondering momentarily if you should run. "I am Zenzic," he says by way of a greeting, and you nod warily. Zenzic cocks his head at you, blinking all of his false-eyes. "Riot," he says, almost gleefully flaring both sets of his wings. "Riot! The fest of the Plaguelings, of all infection and disease! Riot!" He freezes and stares at you again. "And Rot, of course." He hands you a carefully packed care-basket of glittery, pink items. It looks garishly out of place in the fleshy landscape, but Zenzic doesn't seem to notice. "Enjoy your Riot! Enjoy your Rot! Enjoy your humble gift from the Arcane Flight, and know you are an integral part of the inherent balance of the flights!"

You wave goodbye, bewildered, as you rifle through the gift basket. Something wriggles in the depths...

Happy Riot of Rot!



***

Rockbreaker's Ceremony 2021 Meteorbomber

It was late in the week and most of the festivities had drawn to a close. As you head home late one night you look to the sky where stars are slowly popping into view. Including one that was very large, very pink and, for some reason, moving very fast. It lit the area around you a bright fuchsia. It seems to be heading...no, it couldn't be.

The violet-flaming meteorite grows larger and larger, and you hurl yourself out of the way as it crashes into the space in front of you. The sand fuses into pinkish glass from the heat and rocks that hadn't moved for centuries rocket away from the impact sight. A dragon that gravity seems to ignore tumbles from the wreckage of the deep purple stone.

He shoots upright, eyes too wide and grin too wide, and his gaze falls on you. You freeze, wondering momentarily if you should run. "I am Zenzic," he says by way of a greeting, and you nod warily. Zenzic cocks his head at you, blinking all of his false-eyes. "You seem to be made of flesh and not stone. This is good. The last place I landed only had stone dragons." He grins, baring sharp, shining teeth. "What a wonderful Ceremony!" he crows. "A celebration of the old, each year it begins anew!" He leans in close. "The stars are rocks," he whispers, almost conspiratorially. "They're just very, very hot." You nod, terrified of what this strange dragon might do to you if you disagree. He scrabbles about in the wreckage for a minute and somehow produces an immaculate, carefully packed care-basket of glittery pink items. It looks garishly out of place in the dry landscape, but Zenzic doesn't seem to notice or care. He hands it to you, beaming. "Enjoy your most timeless of ceremonies! Enjoy your humble gift from the Arcane flight, and know you are an integral part of the inherent balance of the flights!"

You wave goodbye, bewildered, as you rifle through the gift basket. Something wriggles in the depths...

Happy Rockbreaker's Ceremony!



***

Crystalline Gala 2022 Meterobomber

The Crystalline Gala was in full swing. Stoic prison wardens and gaolers relaxed for the only time during the whole year. Your guard is down and that's the only reason you miss the flashing pink streak in the sky. It gets larger and larger, and by the time you finally notice it it's already rocketing through the sky in your direction.

You leap out of the way, claws scrabbling for purchase on the ice, and the meteorite lands with a huge KABOOM, instantly vaporizing several feet of ice and snow. The large purplish rock cracks open, and a dragon that gravity seems to ignore tumbles from the wreckage.

He bolts upright, eyes and grin much too wide for his face. Your own eyes narrow in suspicion as his gaze falls on you. "I am Zenzic," he says by way of a greeting, and you nod warily. Zenzic cocks his head at you, blinking all of his false-eyes. "Ah, the glorious cold! Where would we be without Ice, Ice to hold memory and danger, Ice to preserve and save!" His smile reveals sharp, crystalline teeth. "Where would we be without the Ice flight!" He leans in close and you catch a whiff of ozone. "The comets are ice," he whispers conspiratorially. "The moons hold ice. Our flights are more similar than you might imagine." He draws back and somehow produces an immaculate, carefully packed care-basket of glittery pink items from the rubble. It's a little damp with snowmelt and it looks garishly out of place in the barren tundra, but he presses it into your claws. "Enjoy your most frigid of ceremonies! Enjoy your humble gift from the Arcane flight, and know you are an integral part of the inherent balance of the flights!"

You wave goodbye as he launches himself back towards the stars, bewildered as you rifle through the gift basket. Something shimmers inside...

Happy Crystalline Gala!



***

Trickmurk Circus 2022 Meteorbomber

It was late in the week and most of the festivities had drawn to a close. You were on the way back to your clan, suitably starry-eyed with memories of shadowed performances and acts of illusion. Or...wait. No, that flashing pink streak in the sky isn't a star...

The violet-flaming meteorite grows larger and larger, and you hurl yourself out of the way as it crashes into the space you'd just been occupying. Mushrooms shrivel in the flames and the darkness flees from the bright sparks of magic. A dragon that gravity seems to ignore tumbles from the wreckage of the deep purple stone.

He bolts upright, eyes and grin much too wide for his face. Your own eyes narrow in suspicion as his gaze falls on you. "I am Zenzic," he says by way of a greeting, and you nod warily. Zenzic cocks his head at you, blinking all of his false-eyes. "The darkness hides the tricksters especially well this time of year, but I assure you this is no trick. Shadow, the most obscure of flights, the magicians and jesters and clowns!" He leans close and you catch a whiff of ozone. "Shadow fills the space between stars, you know. We are not so different, you and I, pink and purple." He draws back and somehow produces an immaculate, carefully packed care-basket of glittery pink items from the rubble. He brushes off a cloud of dark fungal dust and presses the basket into your claws with a huge grin. "Enjoy your trickiest of circuses, your darkest of nights! Enjoy your humble gift from the Arcane flight, and know you are an integral part of the inherent balance of the flights!"

You wave goodbye as he launches himself back towards the stars, bewildered as you rifle through the gift basket. Something shimmers inside...

Happy Trickmurk Circus!



***

Flameforger's Festival 2022 Meteorbomber

The Fire flight was famous for its fireworks, especially during festivals. The embers and sparks lingered for hours after the explosions, and you were still blinking away sparkles. Even now, you can see some remnants, or...wait. No, that flashing pink streak in the sky isn't an ember...

The violet-flaming meteorite grows larger and larger, and you hurl yourself out of the way as it crashes into the space you'd just been occupying. Ash shoots upwards in a cloud and the volcanic rock shatters with a horrific crash. A dragon that gravity seems to ignore tumbles from the wreckage of the deep purple stone.

He bolts upright, eyes and grin much too wide for his face. Your own eyes narrow in suspicion as his gaze falls on you. "I am Zenzic," he says by way of a greeting, and you nod warily. Zenzic cocks his head at you, blinking all of his false-eyes. "Signals, heat, cooking, light, destruction, all these are things fire can do. In ancient times, there were dragons who believed each one of them had a flame in their heart that kept their bodies warm." He leans close and you catch a whiff of ozone. "Stars are made of flame, you know. We are not so different, you and I, pink and orange." He draws back and somehow produces an immaculate, carefully packed care-basket of glittery pink items from the rubble. He brushes off a cloud of dark, igneous dust and presses the basket into your claws with a huge grin. "Enjoy your flames, your festival! Enjoy your humble gift from the Arcanites, and know you are an integral part of the inherent balance of the flights!"

You wave goodbye as he launches himself back towards the stars, bewildered as you rifle through the gift basket. Something shimmers inside...

Happy Flameforger's Festival!



***

Rockbreaker's Ceremony 2023 Meteorbomber

It was the middle of the week, and the festivities were in full swing. As you head home late one night you look to the sky where stars are slowly blinking into view. Including one that was very large, very pink and, for some reason, moving very fast. It lit the area around you a bright fuchsia. It seems to be heading...no, it couldn't be.

The violet-flaming meteorite grows larger and larger, and you hurl yourself out of the way as it crashes into the space in front of you. The sand fuses into pinkish glass from the heat and rocks that hadn't moved for centuries are blasted away from the impact sight. A dragon that gravity seems to ignore tumbles from the wreckage of the deep purple stone.

He shoots upright, eyes and grin much too wide for comfort, and his gaze falls on you. You freeze, wondering momentarily if you should run. "I am Zenzic," he says by way of a greeting, and you nod warily. Zenzic cocks his head at you, blinking all of his false-eyes. "You seem to be made of flesh and not stone. This is good. The last place I landed only had stone dragons." He grins, baring sharp, shining teeth. "What a wonderful Ceremony!" he crows. "A celebration of the old, each year it begins anew!" He leans in close. "The stars are rocks, you know," he whispers, almost conspiratorially. "They're just very, very hot." You nod, terrified of what this strange dragon might do to you if you disagree. He scrabbles about in the wreckage for a minute and somehow produces an immaculate, carefully packed gift-basket of glittery pink items tied with a bright bow. It looks garishly out of place in the dry landscape, but Zenzic doesn't seem to notice or care. He hands it to you, beaming. "Enjoy your most timeless of ceremonies! Enjoy your humble gift from the Arcane flight, and know you are an integral part of the inherent balance of the flights!"

You wave goodbye, bewildered, as you rifle through the gift basket. Something wriggles in the depths...

Happy Rockbreaker's Ceremony!