DRONE

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Stolen from it’s hive as a mere larva, the crate that contained it was washed ashore during the horrid storm that wrecked the ship that was supposed to transport it. Rescued from the brine (and quite possibly a rather unfortunate fate), this oversized maggot was found to be “extremely unnerving, but not necessarily threatening”. This notion is expected to change once it fully metamorphoses. Majority of the dragons aren’t even sure what it is.

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Some of the more knowledgeable dragons have come up with a rather…
novel use of the little beast; Gluegun.
Utilizing its natural biology and susceptibility to following commands, they have used a minor artifact to issue a simple telepathic ‘order’. Due to having little to no knowledge of how the commands are usually constructed the order is very incomplete and open ended, but after some trial and error (and many many glued together claws), they’ve managed to make it so that when lightly squeezed, it will excrete building fluid; not much, but still a sufficient amount for all manners of things. Traps, tools, art projects, so many possibilities for the bug goop.
What an unexpected boon from such a dangerous little creature.

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Well.

There had been some time since it’s arrival.
When not passed around the group for light research or used as a unusually squishy art appliance, it was mostly left to it’s own accord, either slowly crawling around or consuming the soylent mush left specifically for it. It didn’t make much noise, nor cause any troubles, and, in the nature of all quiet non-bothering things, soon melded in with the strange background normalcy surrounding it everyday. Most dragons were strangely content with this, It was eating, it was sleeping, this was good! Despite faulty orders and a less than ideal environment, they clearly were doing something right. The creature weren’t merely alive, it was thriving.

The concerns started once they noticed it changing.
With every day that passed, in small, barely noticeable ways, it changed. Developing wingbuds. Sharper mandibles. More defined limbs. More claws.
And it grew. Sweet Arcanist, did it grow.
And with every inch it grew, so did the concerns.

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It was gone.
It had eaten more than usual for some time, growing ever larger, only to one day completely disappear.
This, understandably, caused quite the commotion.

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A harried search was started, and, after a few days, it was finally found.
Chocked at first, the dragons did not initially recognize the creature;
[wip]
It was different, that much was sure.

[wip]

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[wip]

This does not bode well.



There had been a storm, an unusually violent one. Trees had fallen, roofs blown down and many a shingle and garden ornament lost, but the damage onland was near nothing compared to the pure chaos out at sea.
Various shipwrecks and seafauna littered the small shore, nearly covering the pale pink sands entirely with rot and debris.
There were dragons there. This was not unusual, especially after a storm; theres no telling what treasures could be found, and with the tunnel’s dotting the cliffwall transport of even heavy goods was a laughable matter. Trinkets, resources, even the occasional survivor had been fished up from the waves or plucked from the sands and hauled back to the clan. It was perfect.
This had not been an overly eventful week (save for the storm), and the motley crew of drakes were eager to search the strand. The waves were still raging further out, but were at least more manageable closer to shore; if they didn’t move fast, they’d risk losing the spoils back to the tides.

One little creature took the opportunity to climb a nearby calcedony jutting from the sands; the perfect place to survey the strand while the rest dug around for trinkets and relocated larger items. She was too small to move the larger debris anyways. This was her second visit to the shore, and the first one had been cut short by the stupid storm; there was no way she was gonna miss out this time!
The small bogsneak flicked her tongue, tasting the air. Hm. North. Winds will pick up soon. Better tell the others!

The little beast hobbled over the sands, dragging a shallow grove with her tail as she wobbeled her way in the general direction of others.
Oh! They found something! A couple of dragons were collected around what appeared to be a pile of junk, splintered wooden planks strewn haphazardly around what might once have been a hull, or perhaps a deck; it was hard to tell at this point. Oh she HAD to see this!

A little bit away in the shallows, another dragon amusedly watched as the lizard-like little drake waddled over the shore with quite some speed. My, someone’s in a hurry!

- “Heya Squish! Did the the storm catch yer wings?”

The smaller drake skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding slipping on the seaweed only to get a streak of old netting stuck on her tailspines. Tugging at the net with her teeth, she stared defiantly at the lean mirror only to get a hearty chuckle in return. How DARE she distract her from her mission?

- “Ih hah ihpohtnt imphomafomn!”

The larger wyrm gave her little more than a confused tilt of their head, albeit still grinning from the sight.

- “What’s that??”

Phtoo! Stupid net!

- “I said that I have important information! The winds are going north, that means they’ll change soon!”

The large mirror looked down on her with what was frankly an unnecessary amount of eyes, angled in such a way the ones going down her side had Squish in full view. What could She POSSIBLY need that many eyes for? Does she stare prey to death?

- “Really? I could have sworn you were just runnin’ to see what they found!”

So what if she was? Her information was still important! What does lady googlyeye know about winds anyways?!

The bogsneak gave an indignant huff as she rose to her hindlegs to appear bigger.
- “As if you have anything important, Dumbdot!”

-Oh this was hilarious-
- “ Bumbledot, and, as a matter of fact, I do!”

- “You do?”

- “Yep!”
She dipped her head down into the brine and dredged up a large piece of wood; the paint still clear on the letters.
Wait, letters?
[wip]

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