Dragon Share

Example: A Short Story [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/34551568][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/345516/34551568_350.png[/img][/url] Oath is a male skydancer dragon, with red and white patterning. He wears a dark creepy skull with long stringy red hair. He carries a cursed sword and is wreathed by floating candles that emenate a dark mist. His gauntlets glow faintly red, leaving glowing ethereal footprints wherever he walks. Write a story from the perspective of another skydancer dragon in the Gale Sanctum, who has told to many lies and gets a missive telling him the Oathkeeper is coming for him. The story should be from the victim's perspective as Oath hunts him down and murders him. -------- [b][u]The Oathkeeper[/u][/b] In the Gale Sanctum, where the wind carried whispers and the sky danced with colors, I found myself ensnared in a web of my own deceit. The lies, once harmless, had morphed into a monstrous entity, a beast that had summoned its master. The missive arrived at dawn, a parchment bearing the ominous seal of the Oathkeeper. The mere sight of it sent a chill down my spine, a cold harbinger of the retribution to come. As the sun surrendered to the night, the Sanctum transformed. The familiar paths twisted into a labyrinth of fear, the shadows lengthening into monstrous shapes. The air grew colder, the wind carrying a silent threat. He was coming. The night was a symphony of hushed whispers and rustling leaves, punctuated by the distant hoot of an owl. But beneath it all was a rhythm, a soft, relentless thud. Footsteps. His footsteps. Each step left behind a faintly glowing footprint, a spectral fire that cut through the darkness, a relentless pursuer in the night. I ran, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm in my chest. But no matter where I went, the spectral fire followed, a relentless echo of my impending doom. Then, I saw him. Not as a dragon, but as a specter of justice. His scales, a haunting blend of red and white, shimmered in the moonlight. His skull mask, adorned with stringy red hair, was a grim specter in the darkness. The floating candles that wreathed him cast an eerie glow, their dark mist a haunting shroud. And in his claw, the cursed sword gleamed, its cold edge a promise of retribution. The sword found me in the end, its cold, cruel edge a stark contrast to the warm blood that flowed from my wound. As I lay there, life ebbing away, I saw him. Oath, the Oathkeeper, a phantom of truth in the moonlight. As the darkness closed in, a realization dawned. The lies, the deceit, the broken oaths - they had led me here, to this cold, lonely end. And as the last breath left my body, I made one final promise - a promise of truth, of honesty. But it was too late. The Oathkeeper had claimed his due.

[center]Thank you so much for the chance! I hope the way I wrote her won't confuse the ai too much :,D [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/84573370][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/845734/84573370_350.png[/img][/url] Sirhak is a female Spiral dragon of the light flight living with a clan of Serthis that adopted and raised her. Sirhak was raised and adopted by the Serthis who found her as an abandoned hatchling on the brink of death.Hesserk, the familiar on her, is her father as he adopted her into the clan, and ever since then she was raised as a Serthis spiral, and good lord you [i]cannot[/i] seperate her from her group at all. They love her very dearly aswell, more than a group of serthis are probably accustomed to, as them raising her together eventually brought everyone together. She has a saddle on her back so other warriors, mainly her dad, can ride on her back in order to make an even more lethal attack! She is very feared. This poem could be written by her about how she got into a fight and was forced to rest by her group. She is very active so this would feel like a punishment almost but she [i]very[/i] begrudgingly would accept the break to heal up a bit. She has a very standoffish tone, but she is very loyal to her clan and would die to protect them! The vibe is angry but begrudgingly understanding. [/center]

@NikTheBug
Not a problem! I modify the writing to be more AI-friendly, anyway :D

A poem for you! :D

Spiral of Serthis

In the heart of the fray, where steel meets scale,
I, Sirhak, a Spiral of Light, did prevail.
Raised by Serthis, in their embrace I grew,
A dragon among beastclan, a bond strong and true.

Hesserk, my father, a Serthis of might,
Rides on my back, in the heat of the fight.
Together we strike, a force to be feared,
A dragon and Serthis, a duo revered.

But even the mighty must rest, so they say,
A truth I learned in a most painful way.
In a battle fierce, I took a blow,
And my Serthis family said, "You must lay low."

Rest, they said, let your wounds heal,
But to a warrior like me, it felt like a raw deal.
I am a Spiral, a creature of flight,
To be grounded, to me, just doesn't feel right.

But for my family, I would do anything,
Even if it means clipping my wing.
So, I rest, I heal, I bide my time,
For soon, I'll be back, in my prime.

I am Sirhak, a dragon of Light,
Raised by Serthis, ready to fight.
And though I rest, make no mistake,
For my family, any risk, I'll gladly take.

---

And also for fun, a short story as well (I really love this lore! A spiral raised in the beastclan is an awesome idea):

Finding Sirhak

Hesserk, a seasoned Serthis warrior, was not one to be easily surprised. Yet, on that fateful day, as he slithered through the undergrowth of the Shrieking Wilds, he found something that made his scales shiver. A hatchling, a Spiral dragon of the Light flight, lay abandoned and on the brink of death.

Now, Hesserk, as all Serthis, was a creature of instinct and survival - not known for sentimentality. Yet, something in the hatchling's feeble cries tugged at his heart. He could have left it there, let nature take its course. But he didn't. He picked up the hatchling, cradling it in his coils, and carried it back to his clan.

The Serthis clan was a tight-knit group, bound by survival and shared hardships. The arrival of the hatchling, a dragon no less, was met with suspicion. Yet, Hesserk stood his ground. He saw something in the hatchling, a spark of life that refused to be extinguished. He named her Sirhak, a name that in the Serthis tongue meant 'survivor'.

Raising Sirhak was no easy task. She was a dragon, a creature of the skies, while they were Serthis, creatures of the earth. Yet, they found a way. They taught her their ways, their language, their survival skills. And in return, Sirhak brought something new to the clan. A sense of unity, a shared purpose, a family.

As Sirhak grew, so did her strength. She became a formidable warrior, her dragon's fire and Serthis cunning making her a force to be reckoned with. Hesserk, proud of his adoptive daughter, crafted a saddle for her back. Together, they became an unstoppable duo, their combined might striking fear in the hearts of their enemies.

Yet, even as Sirhak thrived among the Serthis, Hesserk could see the longing in her eyes. The longing to take to the skies, to join her dragon kin. But he knew, as did she, that she was no longer just a dragon. She was a Serthis Spiral, a part of their clan, their family. And for that, she would always have a place among them.

So, as the sun sets and the stars twinkle in the night sky, Hesserk watches Sirhak take flight, her scales shimmering in the moonlight. And he knows, no matter where she goes, no matter what she does, she will always return. For she is Sirhak, the survivor, the dragon raised by Serthis. And she is home.

((I have no idea where it got the idea Sirhak meant survivor - is this true??))

Oh my god that is actually really good! Everything fits to her perfectly!
Oh the part of "Sirhak means survivor" I think since even with harpy we dont get their language, but the idea of them naming her that is very sweet :,D Currently the beastclan lore seems to be still getting revamped, so we only have one beastclan, so many of my Serthis headcannons and ideas basically hang in the air

Altogether I love the death spaghetti family!

Interesting! I'll submit my guy for consideration. [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/47432632][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/474327/47432632_350.png[/img][/url][/center] Laska is a male Tundra dragon of the Light flight living in a Wind flight lair. He is a jack-of-all-trades that travels the world to help dragons and beasts in need - though he is constantly afraid of evil dragons and their deeds. Laska travels with his best friend, Ezra the Longneck, who protects him. They never ask for anything in return, even though they are often found doing a clan's most unglamorous jobs. However, they are usually paid back in some way. Love has a way of coming back to those that give it. This poem should be about him in a melancholic but hopeful mood.

Ohh this is sweet of you, thank you! [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/71742395][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/717424/71742395_350.png[/img][/url] Antaxis is a male Mirror dragon of the plague flight living in a Wandering Contagion lair, though he is not devout to plague ideals anymore. He left his ruthless ambush pack with honors, as he was among one of the strongest hunters. Unbeknownst to all but the stragglers and unwell, he would overkill for the sake of bringing sustenance and care for those who were unable to hunt for themselves. He founded his lair embedded in a quiet rocky hill enveloped by a perpetually autumnal forest, whose colors are from the trees’ constant stress bracing against the encroaching dune desert lining the outskirts. The lair—being secluded, roomy, and well stroked with food—meant it became a word-of-mouth refuge for travelers. With the help of his small and gradually acquired staff, the lair, named Strainwood after its location, is smoothly run. One day, his only scout reported a collapsed Imperial in the nearby desert. Imperials, a massive and imposing breed of dragon known by their serpentine bodies and enormous birdlike, leathery wings and branched horns, didn’t frequent this region at all. To make things worse, this one was Iceborn, and as black as night. It could perish in heat like this. So, with the help of his scout and accountant, Antaxis took in the unconscious Imperial to his den’s recovery room. With his tentative care over the course of weeks, the Imperial regained consciousness. The male iceborn Imperial with wings too small to fly was named Desastre, named after his abyssally black coat, which was dotted with pinpoints of light and thin glowing lines like breaks in glass. Desastre decided to stay at the sanctuary, having no where to go. Over months, he and Antaxis fell in love. Their quietude meant their lives were rife with the rest they’d longed for formally in their lives. This short story is about them. It follows Antaxis as he goes about his unhectic task management role in his sanctuary in a single day. He thinks about Desastre’s thoughtful and kind nature, and how his forgiveness often fails to extend to himself pertaining to his flightless wings. Antaxis thinks about Desastre’s wings, and mentally drafts how he will describe to Desastre how unhesitatingly and completely he loves them. Antaxis’s loving feeling is supplemented by a passing memory of how Desastre cares for him when his body is too fatigued to work. The story should have a gentle tone. The heart of the story is in mutual comforting and affirmation. - Thank you for this chance, I hope my background is specific enough to give a [i]really[/i] cool response. [emoji=new friend size=1]

@Almedha
N'awww, Laska and Ezra are a great combination together! <3

Journey of the Heart

In the realm where Light and Wind dance in harmony,
There resides a dragon, Laska, a Tundra of Light's symphony.
A jack-of-all-trades, a wanderer, a friend,
He travels the world, mending hearts, making amends.

His scales shimmer like dawn's first light,
His heart, a beacon, shining bright.
Yet, beneath his courage, there lies a fear,
Of evil dragons, their deeds unclear.

By his side, a companion, Ezra the Longneck,
A guardian, a protector, keeping threats in check.
Together they journey, through Sornieth's vast expanse,
Helping those in need, given half a chance.

They ask for nothing, yet receive so much,
A meal, a shelter, a grateful touch.
For love, like the wind, is a boomerang,
It returns to those who let it take wing.

Yet, in his heart, a melancholy resides,
A longing for a home where he can confide.
For even a wanderer yearns for a place,
Where he can rest, embraced in grace.

So, he travels, under the sun and the moon,
Hoping to find his haven soon.
For in the heart of a dragon, there's a simple creed,
Love is the journey, and the journey is indeed

@Twite

Haha, I'm glad you've enjoyed reading them! I thought this would be a fun way to get to see some cool dragons and read some good lore - and Thorne is awesome! I love the idea of being able to smell magic! :D

The Scent of Magic

In the heart of the Labyrinth, where the sun's rays dance,
There dwells Thorne, an Imperial taking his chance.
Blind to the world, yet seeing more than most,
In the realm of the arcane, he's a discerning host.

Each spell, a symphony of scent in the air,
A sonnet of sorcery, beyond compare.
Though sightless, his world is far from dim,
In the orchestra of odours, he discerns every hymn.

Yet, a discordant note strikes the tranquil night,
A thief in the shadows, hidden from sight.
Undaunted, Thorne rises, his spirit aflame,
In this silent symphony, he'll beat the thief at his game.

A whiff of deceit, a trace of guile,
Through the verdant maze, he tracks every mile.
Past the Pox's consulate, under the emerald canopy,
His resolve unwavering, like a steadfast symphony.

A playful pursuit, in the labyrinthine green,
A dance of determination, in the unseen.
Thorne, the blind treasurer, his senses his guide,
In the pursuit of justice, he takes in stride.

So unfolds the tale, in the labyrinth's heart,
Of the blind dragon's quest, a poetic art.
With the scent of magic as his trusted spear,
Thorne's on the case, the thief's end is near.

@Directorate


Awww! I love Antaxis and Desastre both! What a beautiful tale.



"Sanctuary of Love"


In the heart of the Wandering Contagion, nestled within a rocky hill, lies Strainwood, a sanctuary carved by Antaxis, a Mirror dragon of the plague flight. The hill, surrounded by an autumnal forest forever ablaze with hues of red and gold, stands as a bulwark against the encroaching desert dunes. Antaxis, once a ruthless hunter, now stands as the guardian of this refuge, his strength repurposed to care for those who seek solace within Strainwood's walls.

The day begins as any other, with Antaxis overseeing the sanctuary's operations. His eyes, once used to track prey, now scan the inventory lists and resident logs, ensuring the smooth running of his haven. Yet, amidst the routine, his thoughts often wander to Desastre, the Iceborn Imperial who had become an integral part of his life.

Desastre, with his serpentine body and massive, bird-like wings, was a stark contrast to the desert's harsh landscape. His coat, as black as the night sky, was adorned with pinpoints of light and thin glowing lines, like cracks in a glass canvas. His wings, though too small for flight, were a sight to behold. To Antaxis, they were not a symbol of incapacity, but a testament to Desastre's resilience.

As Antaxis moved through his day, his thoughts were filled with Desastre's kindness and thoughtfulness. He remembered how Desastre would care for him when fatigue took over, his gentle touch a balm for Antaxis's weary body. He thought of Desastre's self-deprecating remarks about his flightless wings, and how he longed to reassure him of his worth.

In the quietude of the sanctuary, Antaxis began to mentally draft his words. He wanted to tell Desastre how he loved his wings, not for their inability to fly, but for their unique beauty. He wanted to express his unhesitating and complete love for Desastre, to affirm him in a way he often failed to do for himself.

As the day drew to a close, Antaxis found himself by Desastre's side, the words he had been rehearsing all day ready on his lips. He looked at Desastre, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the setting sun, and began to speak. His words, filled with love and affirmation, echoed through the sanctuary, a gentle end to another day in Strainwood.

In the heart of the Wandering Contagion, within the walls of Strainwood, Antaxis and Desastre found not just a sanctuary, but a home. Their lives, once filled with hardship and struggle, were now marked by comfort and mutual understanding. In their quietude, they found a love that was as enduring as the autumnal forest that surrounded them, a love that was their refuge in a world that was often too harsh to bear.