Creative Corner

[center][b]~ [emoji=raven size=1] Reserved [emoji=cat 3 size=1] ~[/b][/center]

[center][b]~ [emoji=raven size=1] Reserved [emoji=cat 3 size=1] ~[/b][/center]

[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/40550322][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/405504/40550322.png[/img][/url][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/lQVPMOS.png[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/XhpFCLD.png[/img] ----- [font=georgia][size=6]A L I M[/font][/size] ----- [font=cambria][size=4]he/him [i]vain - compassionate - solitary[/i][/font][/size][/center] [center][font=georgia][size=5][i]The Great Sacrifice[/i][/font][/size][/center] [columns][color=transparent]...[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][size=4]As many Coatl’s do, Alim grew up being boastful and vain about the beauty of his feathered wings. They were the brightest of pinks, with hues the most gorgeous of light oranges, and he was the envy of many Coatl’s who wished that they could be as bright and beautiful as he was. It was a part of great pride for him, and he made sure that he took care of his feathers with great care and attention, using the best products to ensure their glossy sheen that in some lights looked like a sunrise right as the sun peeked over the horizon. Being the envy of the village he lived in along the edge of the Starwood Strand did ensure his fair share of enemies. There were rumors that he made a deal with an evil witch in order to make his coat that lovely, or even that he made an exchange with an envious god. It became a game in the village to come up with what Alim sacrificed in order to achieve such beauty, his intelligence? His mother? Just a few feathers? In any case, none of that was true, of course. Alim just happened to have a beautiful coat, and he didn’t have to sacrifice any intelligence to get it. But that didn’t stop the bullying and teasing from others in his village about his supposed evil pact. He had few friends, and all the hatred towards him caused him to embrace his beauty even more, as it was something he was proud of regardless of how he was treated. Then one day, a diseased dragon from the Scarred Wasteland stumbled into the village asking for help. The creature was suffering from a plague that was eating away at its mind, and before long it went crazy and bit a few other dragons in the village attempting to help them. In the end, the diseased dragon died, but that wasn’t the end of the horror. Other villagers started to contract the same disease, and as it spread, half of the village was going mad. Family members were split up, hatchlings were sent far away to relatives, and dragons were locked in basements in an attempt to stop the disease from spreading so that they could find a cure. All of this was in vain though, and the village was soon a husk of what it used to be, with dragons dead and families torn apart. It was quiet, and had lost its bustling and jovial attitude to be replaced with a mournful pallor. In a stroke of luck, or perhaps it was because of his severe lack of friends, Alim was found safe from the plague that struck his poor village. Although he hated to see dragons suffering and sick, there was a small part of him that felt like it was payback for all of the hatred that they had towards him over all those years. It was a selfish thought, to be sure, and one that Alim was not necessarily proud of. Nonetheless, the healthier dragons of the village, the ones who were lucky to have been unscathed for so long, were trying to determine what to do. Runners had been sent to the Tourmaline Archives with missives to the scholars there to help them determine what the illness was, and to try to find doctors and medical experts that could provide a cure, or even a way to ease the insanity of the afflicted dragons. Nothing was turning up, and it was looking rather bleak for the village as they quarantined even more dragons. Alim, not having any medical training or background, didn’t know what to do, and had no help to offer. He still maintained his beauty, however, much to the derision of the villagers who had family members that were plague-afflicted. Some villagers would even spit on him, in an attempt to give him the plague so that he would lose that shiny and beautiful coat of his. This caused Alim to spend more time in the deeper parts of the Starwood Strand, far away from the village. He would go on walks at night to clear his mind, but he found himself feeling quite lonely in the deep and dark woods. One night, as Alim was taking a long walk through the woods on a usual path of his, he heard someone singing. Curiosity got the best of him, and he moved towards it off the path. As he peered through the branches, he got sight of a female skydancer, who was singing softly to mushrooms that were growing at the bottom of a tree. As she sang, the mushrooms glowed and pulsed a bright blue to the beat of her soft song. After a few seconds she giggled, and then without looking at him, said “Well met, Alim. I wondered if you would find me one day.” Alim had a start when the skydancer said his name. It sent a chill down his spine and had his wing feathers standing up on end. He wondered if he had made some mistake by walking alone. Was this a friend of one of the villager’s here to harm him? “Oh, don’t worry, dear friend. I am not here to harm you. You should see the look on your face!” The skydancer let out a distinct witchly cackle, clearly delighted over his fear. He was still wary of the stranger, though, and up to this point he realized he had not said anything. “Then what are you here to do?” He wanted to ask her how she knew his name, but inquiring about her intentions seemed more important. The witch cocked her head to the side, “Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that.” She cackled again, before reaching down and plucking the glowing mushrooms from the ground and putting them into a basket she had with her. “I am always where I need to be.” Alim was not sure what she meant exactly, but with her attention slightly off of him, he ruffled the tension out of his wing feathers. “Are you from around here then?” The witch cocked her head at him. “You could say I am from around here… and there, and everywhere.” She plucked all but two of the glowing mushrooms, before beginning to walk farther into the woods, basket in-hand. It seemed like the witch spoke in riddles then, and he was unsure if he wanted to follow her. But something told him that he should. So slowly, he trudged behind her. “You haven’t asked me the important question yet.” The witch said, not even looking at him as she found more of the mushrooms and began to pluck them. Alim had stopped when she stopped, so he cocked his head. “What is the important question?” The witch cackled again, shaking her head in dismay. “I cannot come up with THE important question for you, you must do that yourself.” “Do you always speak in riddles?” Alim asked finally, wondering if that is what she was getting at. “Well, my dear, where is the fun in speaking normally?” She asked back, once again continuing down the path. As he continued to follow her deep into the woods, he stayed silent for a while, thinking about what she meant by an important question. Eventually, they came upon a small clearing where there was a large bubbling cauldron in the middle. He watched as the witch dropped the glowing mushrooms into the pot and swirled them around in the mixture. It was then that he also noticed a large sack of medicinal-looking herbs. Perhaps the witch was also a doctor? “Are you a doctor?” He asked, pointing towards her bag of medicinal herbs. The witch smiled at him, a wide grin that showed a lot of her teeth. “There you go, I can sense you are getting closer to the question.” She looked back down at her cauldron. “I am a doctor of sorts.” “Are you here because of the illness in the village?” He asked, suddenly not so afraid anymore. Perhaps she was here to cure the afflicted dragons. “More or less.” She replied, grabbing an herb from the pile and tossing it in. “Do you know how to cure it?” After he asked the question, he got the sense that was the question she had wanted him to ask all along. At this, she gave him a quick side glance. “Mayhaps.” Alim was suddenly frustrated over this conversation. “Well, do you know how to or not? I am sick of playing this game. She stopped stirring and gave him a long look. “Even if I told you, would you tell the others?” She asked him, not in a judging tone, but in an honest one. “Would you help the village that has treated you so poorly?” That gave him great pause. He blinked at her, as if he never considered that he wouldn’t. All of the times that the village had treated him poorly came rushing back to him, all the taunts and teases. The fact that he had so very few friends to speak of, how he was pushed and shoved away for so long. Would he save them? The answer came quickly after that. Yes, if there was a cure he would. Regardless of how they had treated him in the past, no one deserved this fate. So he answered the witch honestly. “Yes, I would.” The witch considered him for a moment before nodding. “There is a cure, but unfortunately, it requires a great bit of magic. Magic I don’t have myself.” Alim was angry now. “Well, if you can’t cure it, then I am leaving.” The witch tutted at him. “I said I don’t have the magic, dear friend, but I think you might.” “Me? I don’t have any magic.” “Oh, sure you do. Everyone has magic, Alim.” The witch threw a couple of more things into the cauldron, the cauldron was now glowing an eerie looking yellow. “It just depends on if you want to use it or not.” “Well, how do I use it?” The witch then picked up a ladle and poured the mixture from the cauldron into a vial. “The biggest magic everyone has is the magic of sacrifice. It is deep and powerful and can cure most things. However, it requires a sacrifice that most do not want to give.” She then walked towards him and handed him the vial. “What would you sacrifice for your village to be healthy again?” Alim paused. “My house?” The witch cackled and turned away from him again to go back to the cauldron. “Not enough. Material things do not count as a great enough sacrifice.” “My memories?” It would be nice to get rid of all the things everyone had ever said about him. She shook her head. “That would be a benefit to you. Not a good sacrifice.” Alim pondered for a while, wondering what would count as a great enough sacrifice for someone like this witch. What did he hold onto dearly, that he would not want to give up? A true sacrifice? It then came to him, it was then obvious. Something that he held dear to his heart was the pretty colors of his feathers, which he primped and primed every single day. That he took such loving care to make sure that they were silky and shone. He suddenly remembered what she had asked him just moments before. “Would you help the village that has treated you so poorly?” Would he do such a huge sacrifice for them, now knowing the price he would have to pay? Alim looked down at his feathers and ran a claw over some of them, preening at the lovely color in the glow of the stars. Would he do it? “How do I do it?” He asked the witch. She gave him a very long look, searching for something in his eyes. When she found it, she nodded to his claw holding the vial. “Drink that and think about your sacrifice. Then all those in the village will be cured… but I should warn you. If you do not sacrifice unselfishly, it will not work. Drink with caution.” Alim looked at the glowing yellow liquid swirling in the vial. He thought for a good while, the witch was silent during this time. And then, with one last look at his beautiful feathers, he drank the vial in one swallow. Quickly, and without much ado, his feathers quickly lost all of their color. Strange runes appeared on his body, but they were not colorful either, but instead gray. The deep magic had written its terms onto him. Once it was over, he dropped the vial to the ground. He nodded to the witch still at her cauldron and she nodded back to him. “Well met, Alim.” [/font][/size] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ucPHQfY.png[/img][/center] [font=cambria][size=4] Back at the village, the magic had certainly done its job. The dragons were cured, and it had all happened in the middle of the night. Dragons were out in the street, gleefully hugging family members that had been afflicted just the day prior, close to death. The center of town was getting its hustle and bustle back once again. Alim watched from the woods, as the town got its life back again. It was then that he decided to move on. As much as he wanted to tell everyone of his sacrifice, he felt like it would lose its magic. The witch did say, after all, that it needed to be selfless. And it would be selfish of him to want to be praised for his good deed. So he left. The town never knew what had happened to him. They never did know that the sacrifice he made was the exact opposite of the sacrifice they ridiculed him for all those years. [/font][/size] [nextcol][color=transparent]...[/color] [/columns] [img]https://i.imgur.com/QKg7FVJ.png[/img] [center][font=georgia][size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/3263650/2#post_54994316]Next Dragon[/url][/font][/size][/center] ----- [right] [size=1][color=#373D3F]art assets: horizontal divider by [/color] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2648881/1]Archaic[/url] | [color=#373D3F]icons by[/color] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1985777]Serpenta[/url][/size][/right]

[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/51652137][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/516522/51652137.png[/img][/url][/center] [center][item=copper gear][item=antique oil lamp] ----- [font=georgia][size=6]ORION[/font][/size] ----- [font=cambria][size=4]he/him [i]smart - hardworking - kind[/i][/font][/size] [font=georgia][size=5][i]The Clockmaker's Choice[/i][/font][/size] [/center][columns][color=transparent]...[/color][nextcol] [font=cambria][size=4]Orion grew up working at his father’s clock and watch shop, The Timekeeper Emporium. The Emporium sold many marvelous clocks that were handmade, sanded, and the gears inlaid with special care. Dragon patrons claimed that the watches always had the exact time, and that they never had to worry about winding. It was obvious that there was some ancient magic or spell that kept them so timely and ticking. His father meticulously showed him how to create watches and clocks, and how to insert the magic. It soon became Orion’s own obsession to design watches and clocks that were even better than the last. When his father left him the Emporium in order to pursue a deity, Orion did everything he could to continue the legacy. One day, as Orion was turning the gears in a watch to ensure its smoothness, a customer came in. This dragon spent quite a while perusing all the clocks on display, but eventually picked up a pocket watch. As he was purchasing the watch, he said to Orion, “I heard that these clocks always keep the time, no matter what, and don’t need to be wound. Too bad you couldn’t turn back time with them, too!” It was said in jest, but it got Orion thinking about the ancient magic that his father taught him. To keep the clocks accurate and wound up, it utilized an ancient magic that could sometimes be dangerous if used by the wrong dragon. Orion had never gone farther with the magic than his father had, but suddenly, he felt that he wanted to outdo his father’s legacy and make watches and clocks do more than keep time consistently. His father had warned him though, that magic usually doesn’t obey unless a concession is made. Orion wished that he knew what kind of concession his father had made in order to use the magic that Orion was still using in the clocks and watches today, but he had never thought to ask prior to his father leaving. After many days looking through his father’s journals and old textbooks on the subject of ancient magic, he came across something very curious. The reason why his father had been so meticulous with him on how to do the spells, was because most of the magic involved had to do with the material it was made with, and the shape and patterns of the gears inside. Orion had opened up many clocks that weren’t made in their shop and had noticed a simpler set of gears that turned, and had asked his father once why they put so much time into the complex design. His father had only shrugged and said, “It is better to be known for complexities and accuracy than the opposite.” Orion had also come across a page in his father’s journal that his father had drawn a big X through. Luckily, it was easy to see what his father had been planning beneath it. It had been a watch that when cranked back, would take the user of the watch back to the best minute of their life. He couldn’t tell why his father had decided not to complete the invention, so he decided that he wanted to try it out himself. [/font][/size] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/PFLaSmv.png[/img][/center] [font=cambria][size=4]After many months of The Timekeeper Emporium being closed, it had reopened. After a few weeks, business was booming as word got around that the clockmaker who worked there had come up with a watch that could let you relive your happiest memory for one minute every day. The waitlist to get such a novelty was said to fill a large book at the back of the shop cover to cover. Dragons from all over the world came to witness such an item, as well as to question the clockmaker himself on how he had achieved such an amazing feat. The clockmaker, however, only gave a smirk and some cryptic answers. One day, a dragon came into the shop and stood in the back browsing at some of the other wares the shop sold while the clockmaker was discussing the usage of the special watch that could let a dragon relive their happiest memories with a customer that just bought the item. Once the customer left, the clockmaker turned to the mysterious dragon and asked if he needed any assistance around the shop. Approaching the counter, the dragon said, “I visited a few weeks ago, and then when someone was purchasing the magic memory watch, you said that your happiest memory that you see through the watch is when your father took you to see the Tourmaline Archives when you were a little bigger than a hatchling. But just now, you said that your happiest memory was when you were old enough to work on clockmaking, and your father was teaching you how to set the gears for the first time. So which is it?” The clockmaker smiled, though it was lopsided and slightly melancholy. “I am afraid it is neither.” The visitor cocked his head. “Why do you lie to your patrons?” He asked, not mad, just curious as to what the answer was. Picking up a watch from the front case, the clockmaker took out a cloth and started to polish it. “I lie because telling them the truth would probably make them sad, and I sell these happy watches to make dragon’s happy. To watch them light up with joy when they are reliving their happiest moment.” “So, what is the truth then?” The dragon asked curiously, wondering if the clockmaker would tell him. The clockmaker continued to polish the watch he had picked up, letting it reflect the light from the glowing lanterns within the cozy shop. The silence was heavy. He eyed the visitor. “The magic doesn’t work for me. For it to work, a concession has to be made. I cannot relive my happiest memory, instead I have to watch everyone else.” “How do you do it? How do you watch people relive their happiest memories and not wish that you could do it for yourself?” The clockmaker paused what he was doing and looked up. “At first it was hard. I almost didn’t make them. And then when I sold the first few, it was difficult to watch the joy on each dragon’s face and know that I couldn’t experience that…” He paused, but then shook his head. “But then, one day, I realized that my happiest memories are when my father taught me how to make clocks, or when he took me to see the archives and talked to me about magic. Even though I would like to relive those moments again, I do, in a way, by creating clocks and working this shop every day.” After that there was a long silence as the visitor thought about this. Then, nodding, “I think I don’t want to have one of your happy watches after all. I was next on the list, but you may give it to the next dragon.” The clockmaker nodded. “Of course. As you wish.” The visitor left, and the clockmaker thought about the interaction. Someone had just given up the ability to relive their happiest moments once a day, after hearing his story. After some pondering, he smiled at the watch he had been cleaning, and thought about his father as he stared at his reflection on the watchface. Perhaps magic wasn’t necessary to re-live a happy memory after all. [/font][/size] [nextcol] [color=transparent]...[/color] [/columns] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/clan-profile/315045][img]https://i.imgur.com/YertUHa.png[/img][/url][/center] [center][font=georgia][size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/3263650/2#post_54994307]Previous Dragon[/url][/font][/size] | [font=georgia][size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/3263650/2#post_54994322]Next Dragon[/url][/font][/size][/center] ----- [right] [size=1][color=#373D3F]art assets: horizontal divider by [/color] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2648881/1]Archaic[/url][/size][/right]

[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/82716622][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/827167/82716622.png[/img][/url][/center] [center][item=glass shards][item=bilworper pinion] ----- [font=georgia][size=6]KAHLO[/font][/size] ----- [font=cambria][size=4]she/her [i]dreamy - wanderer - artistic[/i][/font][/size] [/center] [center][font=georgia][size=5][i]The Journey of Chimes[/i][/font][/size][/center] [columns][color=transparent]...[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][size=4]Growing up near Rotrock Rim, Kahlo saw the pilgrimage that many dragons took to reach it. She had a deep-seated understanding of journeys, and how important it was for some to be able to see the completion or the end of one. However, due to the dangerous trek, many dragons never made it. The Scarred Wastelands held many dangers and illnesses, and there were nomadic clans that weren’t too kind to travelers. It was a wasteland of bones, a symbol of warning. There was a lot of destruction, and Kahlo made a vow to herself early on that she wouldn’t be one to destroy, but instead create. When she outgrew her own clan, she decided to make a journey for herself. At the time, she didn’t know what her goal was or where she would end up, but she knew that starting a journey was difficult. She also knew that ending a journey was the worst part, whether a dragon made it or not. At first, the journey was hard. She wasn’t used to constant traveling, and was sore for the first few months. It was hard getting used to the harsh climates, where to obtain food, and how to approach different clans. Knowing when it was best to leave some dragons alone was also a lesson hard-earned, and had forced her to learn to sense when to hide. Over time, the travels became easier. She traveled through the Tangled Wood and eventually found herself at the end of the Sunbeam Ruins in Lanternlea Port. There, as she was walking through the Port, she found herself at a crystal and glass shop. Within the shop, there were little glass figures, blown glass bulbs, and windchimes made from crystal and glass that made a sweet sound when you entered. Listening to the sweet sound of the chimes, Kahlo had a deep sense that her journey was meant to pass through here. She approached the shopkeeper and asked, “Who makes these wonderful glass chimes?” The shopkeeper looked up from their book and pointed at themselves. “I do.” “Will you teach me how to make them?” Kahlo asked. The shopkeeper smiled. “Of course, you can be my apprentice.” [/font][/size] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/PFLaSmv.png[/img][/center] [font=cambria][size=4]Kahlo spent a few months learning everything there was to know about glasswork. How to blow it, how to carve it, how to form it into beautiful things. During these lessons, she realized that what she had set out to do when she started her journey was right here: learning how to create instead of destroy. The thing about glass was that there were ways to make it stronger and there were ways to make it easier to break. Sometimes, one had to break the pieces in order to create something new out of it. Creation out of destruction, and that was what Kahlo loved the most. After learning for many weeks, Kahlo felt an ache in her bones. She noticed this ache as the need to be back on the road again, and after a heartfelt goodbye to her mentor, she journeyed on. She carried a few of her creations with her, as well as some glass, which was burdensome. But she couldn’t find it in herself to offload any of it. She couldn’t bear the idea of not being able to create. So, on the road at night by a fire, she would work with the glass. Those were her happiest moments, to be on her journey, her claws creating art. [/font][/size] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/PFLaSmv.png[/img][/center] [font=cambria][size=4]One day, Kahlo came across a small village. The village was in a panic, because a hatchling had not returned home the night before after playing in the woods with their friends. Search parties were sent out, but nobody had found the hatching yet. Kahlo promised some dragons that when she left the next day after selling some of her glass artwork, she would keep her eye out for the hatchling and spread the word to other travelers. As she was leaving the village, once she hit the woods, she paused. She reached into her satchel and pulled out one of her glass chimes, and hung it up in the tree right along the path that led to the village. The twinkling sounds of the chimes was sweet as the glass gently moved with the soft breeze. She continued along the path, and she recognized that the path had many twists and turns. She had been through this forest before, and knew where to go, but perhaps a hatchling would have a harder time determining the right forks. So she left more chimes along the path, hoping that if the hatchling was nearby, they would perhaps hear the chimes and think to follow the sound until they reached their village. [/font][/size] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/PFLaSmv.png[/img][/center] [font=cambria][size=4]Even though Kahlo journeyed through several more villages after that, and hadn’t been back to the village with the lost hatchling, she continued to hang her chimes. On fences, in trees, on signs. She started to view these chimes as a symbol of her journey, a journal of where she has been. The chimes almost always eventually lead to a village or to caves that a weary traveler could rest. Eventually, other dragons noticed this and word started to spread that if you ever were lost, just follow the sound of the glass chimes and it would eventually bring you home. Other nomadic travelers started to use the chime paths as official routes, and some dragons even started to create maps showing the routes of the chimes. The chimes became helpful to other dragons on their own journeys and to dragons who were lost. Kahlo kept on traveling, and even when she traveled along her own chime routes, she fixed the chimes that had broken down and put up new chimes where there were gaps. After hearing the stories from other travelers about how important the chimes were, Kahlo had the same deep sense that she had standing in the glass maker's shop all those months ago. That this was what she was meant to be doing. That her journey was not meant to end, but instead her journey was meant to help other dragon’s finish theirs. [/font][/size] [nextcol] [color=transparent]...[/color] [/columns] [center][font=georgia][size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/3263650/2#post_54994316]Previous Dragon[/url][/font][/size] | [font=georgia][size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/3263650/2#post_54994334]Next Dragon[/url][/font][/size][/center] ----- [right] [size=1][color=#373D3F]art assets: horizontal divider by [/color] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2648881/1]Archaic[/url][/size][/right]

[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/49916220][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/499163/49916220.png[/img][/url][/center] [center][item=intact stone relief][item=fir branch] ----- [font=georgia][size=6]KATARINA[/font][/size] ----- [font=cambria][size=4]she/her [i]maternal - loving - wise[/i][/font][/size] [/center] [center][font=georgia][size=5][i]The Dragon at the Stone[/i][/font][/size] [font=georgia][size=2][color=#800000][b]TW: dark theme (death/cult implied)[/b][/color][/size][/font][/center] [columns][color=transparent]...[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][size=4]Deep within the woods, off of a forgotten trail, there is a dragon that stands watch over a stone. The stone itself doesn’t appear to be special, as far as any dragon that passes by can tell. All anyone knows is that the dragon that watches over the stone doesn’t stray far from it. The dragon does not prevent others from approaching the stone. She will let you walk up and look at it, and will even let you touch it. Most dragons think that perhaps she is much like a guardian, and that her charge is the stone. Others think that she has just lost her mind. And the truth may be that it is a little bit of both. [/font][/size] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/PFLaSmv.png[/img][/center] [font=cambria][size=4] [i][b]A few years prior…[/b][/i] Growing up, ever since she was a little hatchling, Katarina had wanted to be a mother. She could imagine what her hatchlings would be like, and how she would love and care for them. At night, she would stay up dreaming about what her children would grow up to be. When she finally had her first nest Katarina doted upon the three eggs, making sure that they were consistently warm. When the eggs hatched, she was thrilled to see that they had similar coloring and markings to her, two girls and a boy. She vowed to teach them all that she knew, and that they would never want for anything in the world. As the hatchlings grew, Katarina could sense that there was something different about her son. Her son had a cooler personality than her daughter and he was slightly conniving. He would play pranks on his sister’s all the time, which they didn’t enjoy at all, and was always planning on the next trick. Katarina tried to admonish him during all of this, but she chalked it up to be that he was a growing boy with two sister’s, nothing more. However, her son did not grow out of it. Even as he grew up into a full dragon, he never outgrew his want to pull pranks on others, even when those pranks were harmful. One day, he left his home, and Katarina hoped for him to find something in this life that would satisfy him. And that wish, perhaps, came true. Katarina learned that in the woods, off of a forgotten path, her son was leading a group of dragons. Except, the rules for this group were not so kind towards outsiders, and it was apparent to her that her son never did overcome his cruelty. Katarina knew that he needed to be stopped, and she was fearful of what she would need to do in order to stop it. But, regardless, she knew it needed to be done. [/font][/size] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/PFLaSmv.png[/img][/center] [font=cambria][size=4] Deep within the woods, off of a forgotten trail, there is a dragon that stands watch over a stone. The stone itself doesn’t appear to be special, as far as any dragon that passes by can tell. All anyone knows is that the dragon that watches over the stone doesn’t stray far from it. The dragon watches over this stone for years, and she doesn’t prevent the foliage of the forest from overtaking it. She watches as time passes and the stone gets covered in plants and moss from the surrounding trees. And one day, when the stone itself has cracked from the roots growing up around it, and it can barely be seen by the bushes and flowers that grow up around its base, the dragon sits and looks at the grave. Before her, are the remnants of a story that would never be told, with stone and greenery tangled together. Below her, are dragon bones that lie in silent defiance. [/font][/size] [nextcol] [color=transparent]...[/color] [/columns] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/clan-profile/315045][img]https://i.imgur.com/Dy7V4T2.png[/img][/url][/center] [center][font=georgia][size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/3263650/2#post_54994322]Previous Dragon[/url] | [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/3263650/2#post_55035867]Next Dragon[/url][/font][/size][/center] ----- [right] [size=1][color=#373D3F]art assets: horizontal divider by [/color] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2648881/1]Archaic[/url][/size]

[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/87972086][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/879721/87972086.png[/img][/url] [item=Cerith Shell][item=Seashell Drapes] ----- [font=georgia][size=6]K E O N E[/font][/size] ----- [font=cambria][size=4]he/him [i]helpful - protective - strong[/i][/font][/size] [font=cambria][size=4][url=https://www.behindthename.com/name/keone][b]Keone[/b][/url] - Means "the homeland" from Hawaiian [i]ke[/i], a definite article, and [i]one[/i] "sand, homeland."[/font][/size][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ucPHQfY.png[/img][/center] [columns] [color=transparent_____] [nextcol] [font=cambria][size=4]Keone cannot remember a time prior to the island. The island is all he is concerned about and is his only home. It is surrounded by water as far as the eye can see. It is fairly small, but that doesn’t mean it is not full of life. The foliage on the island is vibrant and beautiful, creating a tightly webbed ecosystem for the animal life there. Being as secluded as it is, the island has no other dragons. Keone is the only one, and he much prefers it that way. Every time a dragon has come to the island, they have been rude. Many dragons want to use the island for other things, and destroy the wonderful wildlife that has grown there. Keone has protected the island from others, and will continue to protect it as long as he is alive. Even though there is no other dragonkind, Keone does not feel alone. The island itself is magical, and Keone is incredibly in-tune with it. The plants and the animals are able to communicate with him directly, and using the magic language he knows, he talks with them. In return for the protection, the plants and animals offer him their dreams. So at night, laying on the beach of his island, he stares up at the stars envisioning a better world for all creatures. [/font][/size] [nextcol] [color=transparent_____] [/columns] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Jtv7bBZ.png[/img][/center] [center][font=georgia][size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/3263650/2#post_54994334]Previous Dragon[/url][/center] ----- [right] [size=1][color=#373D3F]art assets: horizontal divider by [/color] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2648881/1]Archaic[/url][/size][/right]

[center][item=intricate weaving][item=wavespun cloth] ----- [font=georgia][size=5]ILAMATEUCTLI[/font][/size] ----- [font=cambria][size=4]she/her [i]fancy - seamstress - beautiful[/i][/font][/size] [/center] [center] [img]https://i.imgur.com/xXFPKEt.png[/img] [size=1][color=#373D3F]art by [/color][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/clan-profile/315045]enceladust[/url][/size][/center] [columns] [color=transparent]...[/color] [nextcol] [font=cambria][size=4]From a young age, Ilama was always picking up a needle and thread into her claws and weaving. Her mother was a talented seamstress, and Ilama was essentially attached to her hip, always watching and learning. Fascinated by the way cloth moved and how simple stitches could form something beautiful. She would practice weaving together string and stitching to make small little pictures for her parents. Her mom was always very pleased by her work, and told her that she had an amazing eye and talent for art. Ilama spent many evenings weaving beautiful colors together, and then stitching patterns onto the surface of the fabric. At first, Ilama made beautiful scarfs with intricate patterns that her mother would help sell to her clients. Eventually, she moved on to creating beautiful robes and shawls, before working on very large beautiful tapestries that could get hung up in lairs depicting landscapes and scenes. Ilama’s tapestries were so gorgeous, that she was getting commissions from important dragon’s all over Sornieth. Dragon’s with political power akin to kings and queens were ordering her tapestries to hang within their great halls. Ilama was incredibly proud of this, that her artwork and tapestries were essentially fit for royalty. The waitlist for a tapestry of hers was long, and since it could take many months to finish such a fine piece of artwork, Ilama was months out from finishing her recent orders. But she didn’t mind, she loved the work and would not want to be doing anything else. This of course, made her incredibly rich, and she was able to travel to these great halls and castles in Sornieth in order to see her beautiful pieces of artwork showcased by her clients. Her clients would feed her the finest wines and foods, and she very much enjoyed being able to travel and partake of some of the finer things life had to offer. Despite the consistent work and travels, she still felt as if there was something missing in her life. Whenever she had that feeling, she would brush it off, because she basically had everything she could ever want. [/font][/size] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ucPHQfY.png[/img][/center] [font=cambria][size=4]One day, as she was out for a walk during one of her many trips, she passed a dragon who was looking at one of her tapestries hanging up in the great hall. The dragon appeared to be one of the cooks in the large castle, and the tapestry was one of her finest pieces of artwork with rich colors of purples and blues. She decided to approach the dragon, and she asked “Do you like it?” The dragon was startled for a second, and then rubbed her paws down the apron she was wearing. “Of course, it is absolutely beautiful.” Ilama preened to hear the praise of her artwork. “I am glad that you enjoy it.” The female dragon nodded, before looking down at her chest. “I wish I was as beautifully colored as that tapestry.” The dragon was a mixture of white and gray, and only slight hints of a yellowish gold here and there.. Ilama was startled for a second, she never once had thought that the dragon wasn’t beautiful. Being an artist, she was very aware of color theory, and how any color really was important to an overall piece. “You are beautifully colored as well, my dear. Don’t think for a second that your colors are dull and boring.” The female dragon looked up at the tapestry with all of the vibrant colors and said, “Then why do tapestries never have my colors? You don’t have to lie to me.” Then the dragon shook her head. “I should get back to work.” The interaction gave Ilama pause. She thought back to many of the tapestries that she had created over her career, and realized that she never made a full tapestry with just whites and grays. That all of her tapestries were vibrant and rich in many colors. It gave her an idea. She rushed back to the room that she was staying in, and took out the tools and the fabric that she had brought with her and got to work. [/font][/size] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ucPHQfY.png[/img][/center] [font=cambria][size=4]The next day Ilama found the dragon that she had spoken to in the kitchen, working with some dough in order to make pie for the lords and ladies of the house. The dragon noticed Ilama approaching her, and brushed her claws off on her apron that she was wearing. “Can I help you, miss?” Ilama pulled out the shawl that she had been weaving all night. The shawl was mixed with grays and whites, and was weaved into a very delicate and intricate pattern. The colors were the very same colors that were on the dragon standing before her, who gasped in awe at the beautiful fabric. Taking the shawl, she gently drew it around the shoulders of the other dragon. “Please do not ever say that you are not beautiful, as you can see, your colors are beautiful as they are. You just need to look through the eyes of an artist and you will see.” The dragon tried to give her back the shawl talking about how she couldn’t afford something so beautiful, but Ilama shook her head. “It is for you. You may keep it. May it be a reminder of your beauty.” After that, word spread of Ilama’s kindness and how wonderfully made the shawl was. Dragons of various colors and hues would approach her, asking if she would make a shawl with their colors, wondering if she could make their colors beautiful. She always did, she always managed to make every single dragon's colors, no matter the combination, into a gorgeous shawl with finely stitched patterns. Soon, most of her work was making shawls for others, not making the big tapestries like she used to. And even though she was a little poorer, she was a lot richer in other ways, which was fine with her. [/font][/size] [nextcol] [color=transparent]...[/color] [/columns]

[center][item=autumn breeze][item=autumn staff] ----- [font=georgia][size=5]Hollow[/font][/size] ----- [font=cambria][size=4]she/her [i]a scarecrow brought to life[/i][/font][/size] [/center] [center] [img]https://i.imgur.com/yEpHX2Q.png[/img] [size=1][color=#373D3F]art by [/color][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/clan-profile/315045]enceladust[/url][/size][/center] [columns] [color=transparent]______[/color] [nextcol] [center][font=cambria][size=4]Hollow doesn't know how she came to be. One day, she woke in the middle of a field, and ever since then she has befriended the crows around her.[/font][/size][/center] [nextcol] [color=transparent]______[/color] [/columns]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/vITA9LG.gif[/img][/center] [columns] [color=transparent]...[/color] [nextcol] [font=cambria][size=4]Have you ever stayed up late? Not a few hours past your bedtime, but deep into the night. The hour of night a couple hours before dawn. Have you ever stayed up so late, that the very air around you is still, and the world is absolutely silent? The hour of night when you feel the hair on the back of your neck prickle, because even though it feels like you are the only person in the world, you are somehow being watched? Perhaps because you are. Your instincts are correct, but the creatures up at this time between the darkest hour of night and dawn do not want to disturb you. They just want to watch you. They want to watch you look over your shoulder, and maybe walk faster to your destination. It is thrilling for them to watch you rub your eyes because you thought you caught a glimpse of something in the dark. It is fun to watch you convince yourself that you didn’t see anything after all. You see, there are some creatures that only come out at this hour. It is the reason the air is so still, because all the other night creatures are afraid of them. They only get those few hours, because once the sun just barely starts to pink the sky, they crawl back to where they came from. So they always make those hours count. They call it the witching hours, the hours where nothing feels exactly as it should but not so out of place that you would be able to put your finger on exactly what. When some people act strange and do crazy things, because there are things that go bump in the night, but you just don’t see them. Some people know they are there and try to tell others. Except that when they do, when they point at the things in the dark, they get called insane. Children often see these creatures in their closets and under their beds, but parents are always quick to tell them they aren’t there. Don’t look there, close the door. It is all in your childish imagination. It hails back to Salem when everyone had looked over their shoulders expecting a witch to curse them. But witches aren’t real… right? It is the hours of insanity. The moments when you should be asleep, but somehow you aren’t. Somehow, you are up, and it feels like you are being watched. Because you are, look over there, do you see those glowing eyes? Quick, blink, are you seeing things? Oh. It is gone. A figment of your imagination. Maybe you are a little bit insane thinking that you see something in the dark. It is what children do, to see things that are not there. Are you scared of the dark? Perhaps it was just a shadow. Or maybe not, because the creature has slithered away into the shadows, completely joyful to have sent that shiver down your spine. Thrilled to be something that goes bump in the night. [/font][/size] [nextcol] [color=transparent]...[/color] [/columns]