Scorolite

Lore:
You enter the crystal cavern, expecting an audience with the kingdom's leader. Instead, you are faced with a glimmering purple Ridgeback. His deep purplish wings flutter slightly as his glowing gray talons grip a small quill, moving it dexterously across a piece of parchment. Finally, he looks up.
"Ah. Let me guess- you seek Sir Iolite to ask him some questions." The Ridgeback sets down his quill. "Sir Iolite doesn't need to meddle in such trivial affairs; he is much too busy keeping this kingdom running. If you have questions, ask me, Scorolite, instead of bothering him."

What is magic like here?
Scorolite taps a claw against his pointed chin. "Good question. Magic is a fickle thing. Even unaligned magic such as illusion or healing magic takes quite some practice to use effectively. Many aspiring mages require months of discipline to properly apply their talents."
"Of course, that's only considering if one wishes to learn magic within their birth element." Scorolite adds. "Learning other elements is a different story. Unless you were born or created with two elements at once, to even think about casting spells of other elements requires years of nonstop training. Not many dragons wish to pursue that path of magical learning, and I say 'Good luck to you with that' to anyone who does." He sounds almost irritated at the thought of wielding multiple elements.

What is the commerce here?
Scorolite looks out a crudely-carved window. "Ah yes, the miraculous wonders of free trade. Many dragons make a living by selling their own goods- be it machinery or weaponry, art or apparel, sweets or ciders. Others gather whatever food or items they can before trading them away. However, there is the occasional band of mercenaries that partake in jobs obtaining rare items from the Beastclan territories to sell for profit."

Any weird occurrences?
"Well, there are some out of the ordinary events reported. There's the Aether wielding four elements with equal strength like she's trained with each for a lifetime, yet having no idea about the nature of Sorneith. There was the mechanical Snapper that terrorized the southern half of the city before being subdued. There have been many other reports of all manner of dragons falling from the sky." With each sentence, Scorolite places down a parchment detailing the event as if to emphasize his point. "Some dragons even say that these strange dragons could originate from somewhere beyond Sorneith."
Scorolite scoffs. "Sounds like a hunk of Bilworper to me. If you do believe those rumors, I've heard that some dragons think it's connected to that one cavern over there." He gestured out a crude window to another spire of chalcedony. On its otherwise smooth face, you can see a large gaping hole like the entrance to a cave.

Any differences from the rest of Sorneith?
"What do you mean by this?" Scorolite asks. "If you mean in religion, there are quite a few minor deities besides the Eleven, as well as some spirits of nature. Of course, none of them are as powerful as the Eleven."
"If you're talking about history," Scorolite adds, "then there are some extra records discovered here that have been kept relatively secret." Scorolite pulls out some pictures of tablets depicting strange figures- like two-legged centaurs. "We've called them humans for now, and they seem to have been around in the Second Age- before the explosion, that is. There's evidence that they had formed different cultures around Sorneith, and that some of these cultures simply died out and others were mutated into Beastclans when the machine exploded." Scorolite passes you a small card. Upon it is a series of numbers. "This place has more records, if you wish to look further into it."
Scorolite leans backwards. "If you want to know about us citizens, then I can tell you." He extends a claw with each sentence, as if counting off. "First, there are the Fae. Here, they can communicate much better than around Sorneith, with their frills mainly serving to subconsciously clarify their emotions. Then, there are the Skydancers. Their emotion-sensing is mainly nonexistent here, though many types of dragons including them can learn this ability through magic. Many dragons are of close size- the smallest breeds and largest breeds are relatively closer to the sizes of medium breeds than they are elsewhere." He picks at his claws. "This isn't as important unless you're the more unsavory type, but Auraboa venom can temporarily disrupt a victim's nervous system. It's only fatal towards rodents and the like, and to most dragons it simply knocks them out and causes short-term paralysis. Think falling into a deep sleep before waking up to your limbs numb."

How do breed changes work?
Scorolite shrugs slightly. "Once again, magic works in strange ways. When the incantation on one of these special transformative scrolls is read aloud, the user's body is transformed in the way the scroll describes. Some scrolls allow the user to take on new names, while their former name is all but forgotten. Other scrolls cause new patterns to materialize across the user's body."
Scorolite takes a breath. "However, breed change scrolls work differently. They fully change the dragon's body, but not their mind. A Nocturne may retain their mimicry even after becoming an Auraboa. A Guardian transformed from a Pearlcatcher may keep their pearl as their Charge. A Spiral transformed into a Fae might still be hyperactive."

What's time and space like here?
Scorolite freezes up. "Oh." His expression is of suspicious curiosity. "Such an intriguing question for one to ask." He stares at you for a moment more, before shrugging. "If you're that interested, I might as well help you."
He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a sharpened quill and some pieces of paper. "It's a bit hard to explain, so let me model it for you." First, he picks up one piece of paper. "Imagine, if you will, that this piece of paper is the fabric of reality. If one could gather enough concentrated energy- for example, through an attack charged to devastating levels or the assistance of a powerful being's magic- they could pierce this fabric of reality..." He picks up the quill and, in a swift and powerful motion, jabs it through the paper. "Like so." He then picks up a thinner piece of paper. "Sometimes the fabric of reality is thinner, either because it has been strained somehow or simply by some magical quirk. Either way, it's much easier to pierce these areas." To emphasize his point, he manages to poke a hole in the paper with barely any pressure.
"Of course," he adds, "there is the possibility that others can enter these tears as well." He pokes a claw through the previous hole in the paper, before tossing it aside. "While these holes do heal quickly, they can also leave that area weakened for a time- like how a wound will still sting for days after it initially heals." He then leans uncomfortably close to you, to the point where his nose is almost touching you. "However, I don't want to see you or anybody opening these holes on purpose- understand?"