Shirai
(#70471766)
Level 1 Skydancer
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Skydancer
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.56 m
Wingspan
6.73 m
Weight
390.05 kg
Genetics
Midnight
Iridescent
Iridescent
Midnight
Shimmer
Shimmer
Midnight
Gembond
Gembond
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
Winning entry by SheridanCharon:
Daily Theme: The Eye
Applicable CW & Additional Notes:
CW - The usual Eye shenanigans (mainly obsession), also mentions of body snatching, graverobbing, references to the other Fears (loosely most of them, more majorly Extinction), threats
Notes - Something a little different from my other entries, an actual statement.
*** ***   ***  *******  |
It is a pleasure to finally get to meet you, Archivist, I've been quite looking forward to this. No, no, please, don't get up on my account. You and I are well aware just how important this work is to those such as us, I'm sure. Yes, it is quite vital that such knowledge should be...collected. Ah, please, forgive me for my poor manners. It has just been such a long while since I last conversed with a like-minded individual, I forgot myself for a moment there. You know how it is, that...itch. Now, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Morrigan, Queen of the Cimmerian Clan. Mayhap you have heard of me already, I know some of my clan have weaved their tales for you in the past, they are just so desperate for validation, for understanding, acknowledgement of their suffering. Ah, such a beautiful collection, so much knowledge, so many stories to be told. It's enough to make one almost jealous, were I not of a better disposition. You see, I consider myself something of a...Collector, like yourself. Whereas you merely collect the stories themselves, I prefer to collect the storytellers. A gardener consumed so by his past that he is burning the bridges of the present. A librarian whose only solace from blood-soaked memories is a blood-soaked partner. A grave-keeper terrified of his own charge and the doubts it awakens in him. A prince whose tortured mind refuses to see his new friend for what it is. A dancer who doesn't even realise that the stranger she fears is what she is becoming. And so many, many more. Oh, don't look at me like that. I make sure they are all safe and well-cared for, for they are mine and I protect what is mine. It wouldn't do to let those others get too close again, would it? You know what I mean, of course you do. It is our nature to...collect things. Stories. Knowledge. Secrets. It has always been this way, for as long as I can remember, long before I came to Sornieth. Back in my own home, we are encouraged to learn, to seek out the unknown and make it our own known. Our own little secrets. We are a....territorial people, my kind, we do not like to share, so we must take, take the secrets from each other and make them our own. It has always been this way, it will always be this way and many were content with that. |
I was not.
You see, in my wanderings, I found something...special. Something...powerful...Something wonderful.
I found Sornieth.
|
Of course, that was the easiest part. Finding this wonderful place. It was a secret I would die to keep mine, but I wanted more, I wanted IN. So I started to gather, forced others to give me their secrets so that I might find a way through, and with time...I found one. Of course, it cost my people their very existence, but such a small price to pay, I'm sure they all agreed, for even one of us to have such powerful knowledge. I do not know exactly what became of my land once I departed, but I do believe that it was quite...torturous, a lingering and slow end. I know they are all gone, but I am sure that they are happy with that....If they really knew what had happened. And actually existing in your world was another challenge, it seems like your inherent magic does not...react well with mine. Still, I found a way eventually, had to borrow a few bodies before it worked properly but, after while, I became the beauty that stands before you now. Hmm....Oh, you wish to know why I came here in the first place. Ah, I suppose I went an a bit of a ramble there, but then, surely more knowledge for the Archives is a good thing, no? After all, that IS what you do. Horde knowledge, just like we did. Yes, yes, back to the point. So impatient. The reason I came to Sornieth is incredibly simple: Your secrets. So much for me to learn, to horde, to make mine. It's a feast, utterly delicious...and all for the taking. And when I saw that there was so much UNKNOWN here, so many dragons with stories locked away inside them without the right coaxing to let them flow. How could I resist? Ah, yet simply hearing their stories, getting them to spill their tales...it wasn't enough. I had to keep them close, had to keep them safe, had to make them MINE. I believe it is a result of this form, your kind refer to it as a "Charge"? I do not quite understand it, nor do I care to. Regardless, that is why I formed the clan and sent out word of it being a place for those who had suffered, for those who had encountered something....terrible. For those with stories to tell. See, we are quite alike, Archivist. We are Collectors. For you, it is paper and words and penstrokes. For me? It's them, living and breathing and alive. With stories yet to tell. Stories that are all mine, and mine alone, to know. And THAT, Archivist, is why I am here. See, I don't like the fact that you've been...encouraging dragons to come to you, to tell you their tales. I don't like that. Stay away from my food. |
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@Saronai wrote:
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Inky spectres, barely visible and entirely unnoticed slipped out of their prison the day the Great Library crumbled into ruins on one side. These wisps of The Shade, trapped together no longer, gathered from fragments in tainted tomes and artifacts. All of them strange, many dangerous, secreted into a warded archive by one Jurgen Lightner. Warded no longer. Many appear to originate from The Ghostlight Ruins, others...well, no flight’s territory remains completely untouched by The Shade, does it? Those who built their nests far too close to that secret archive paid the ultimate price, though no one found a trace of them in the aftermath. Only their eggs remained, infected by the fear-drenched fragments of shade, some more than others, perhaps. Either way, this invasive presence transformed all of them to their very core, resulting in one of the Shadeborn. While these unlucky hatchlings are not contagious like those with a more shallow infection, they must feed it magic, and eventually their descent into madness is nearly assured. At that point, no matter how steadfast they were as guardians against The Shade, they may end up as agents spreading its fear and terror. |
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