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(It's late so this'll be short) [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=5437776] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/54378/5437776_350.png[/img] [/url] " A story?" Checkers looks around himself at the eager inhabitants. "I'm not much of a storyteller. My clanmates are much better than me." A murmur goes through to crowd- clanmates? "Well, I guess I can come up with a story." Checkers sits back for a moment, trying to remember exactly how Pistachio sounded when he told a story. "They say this really happened, you know. Anyway, many years ago, one the longest night of the year, a dragon went out for a walk in the moonlight. As he was walking he saw a glint in a deep shadow. He went over to it and discovered that it was a small mirror, about the size of my claws." He holds up a hand, for demonstration. "He picked up the mirror and gazed at it. It was a basic design, but functional. It had a wide face to it, and even in the dim light he saw his reflection quite clearly. He was quite a beautiful dragon. He'd never really noticed before." "He'd also never noticed the whispering voice in the back of his head telling him how pretty he was. He should look at himself more often, it said. You should get lots of mirrors, it said. You're such a pretty dragon, it said." "That dragon set out and began obsessively collecting mirrors. before long, every inch of his lair was covered. He slept on a pile of mirrors. Every waking moment was dedicated to finding mirrors." "They say he's still out there to this day, collecting mirrors. He lives all alone with nothing but his mirrors for company, and if you find yourself walking late at night with a mirror he might chase after you to steal it. Leave the mirror behind when you see him, and he'll never bother you again. he'll be too distracted by his own reflection!" Checkers looked a bit worn out. Telling stories was hard work!

Item 1/5 in the Saga of Xai-What-The-Heck is Charged Tungsten! @Firo and @Varikset provided the final solves. Thanks to the rest of the Mafia Collective for ideas and support <3

@eifie @spectraldragon @elistanel @tyta @kirkeyressa @antivehicular @solemnsongbird @tsaiah @luxlight @drav @ophician @stanari @empyreal @azure @dragonpuff @moonwater @polygone @ninjacatblue @Kalideoscope @mirrorface @ambrose @maddiebird @firo @varikset @darksilverhawk @thisoneisblue @AureaImperatrix @mithent @limelight

Event 6 is up!
The Red Crow is open!

@Blauw
Ooooh I loved that story. I vaguely remember something similar to it, but not quite that. Was great. :D
@Kalideoscope
Also quite liked that one and methinks Angles is leetle crazy heheh. :3

@Xairathan [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13864315] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/138644/13864315_350.png[/img] [/url] Overclock looked around her at the battle, fully alert. She’d stopped for a moment, taking in the carnage of the fight going on around her. The circuits along her body glowed, and electric spark dancing across her flesh, a brilliant runic display. She took a moment to call the previous events, in this moment of peace. When the battle broke out, she’d been well on the front lines alongside the first crew, quickly kicking into a battle mindset and using her haste spells to speed up the assault of the more battle-ready first crew. After that business was finished she broke off, sprinting across the battlefield to another group of dragons to assist, this time conserving her mana to simply slow down the Outsider threat and give her allies more time to react to the deadly icebergs. She’d wished she could be of more...direct assistance, but while her claws were sharp it wouldn’t have done anything to protect her against the touch of the death ice, and she knew it well enough not to even try. Still, there was work to be done. She picked another group, this one struggling, and dashed over there quickly, getting there just in time to tackle one of the citizens, knocking them out of the way of a nightmare tentacle that slammed down behind them. She grabbed the downed militia member, tossing them away from the Outsider and rolled back onto her feet, quickly getting out of the way just before another tentacle slammed down where they’d landed. Stepping away from Outsider, she cursed it with slowness, taking in the rest of the fighters as the one she’d moved out of harm’s way got up to rejoin the battle. It appeared they had a fire mage, a large Coatl with a hammer, and the one she’d pushed out of the way with some sort of bladed gauntlet. Eh, could be worse. She darted towards the saved citizen, indicating the gauntlet with her claw and tilting her head with a curious noise. “Eh, wassat? Ye want one of these? Sorry, got the one. Bloke over there had a bunch of things to hand out though.” He pointed over towards the supporting backline, and a particularly well-stocked Guardian still handing out weapons and potions to supply runners, then rushed to rejoin the fight. Overclock took a moment to debate what to do, deciding to help finish off this creature before heading back for an actual weapon she could use. She ran around the back of the Outsider, barking at what she assumed to be it’s massive icy buttocks, and the creature turned around, sweeping a tentacle across the sand in an attempt to hit the annoying dragon. She anticipated it however, and leapt over the tentacle, running back around to the front with the others before it could strike again. It appeared the others weren’t getting particularly far, their weapons merely cause slight cracks in the ice as they made their assault. She took a moment to assess the situation, recognizing the inefficiency in their sporadic attack pattern. She barked at the flying mage, pointing at the hammer. The dragon was confused, but she insisted with another bark, and the mage moved to cast the flame spell over the Coatl’s weapon as it was being swung, smashing into the Outsider’s icy coating and taking a small chunk off with it. The beast backed up a pace, spinning itself like a top and moving towards the group, who had to quickly make a tactical retreat as the cyclone of tentacles edged closer. Once it stopped spinning, the group immediately set about their assault once again, a flaming hammer slamming into the hide of the beast, and the gauntlet-armed dragon punching away any tentacles that got close, the blades set into the weapon slicing away at the creature’s insane appendages. Overclock refreshed the slow curse on the Outsider and hastened the rest of the group, feeling they’ve got a fair chance now and heading back to the backlines to go see the weapons vendor. When she got up to the Guardian she barked up to the dragon, pawing at the ground and tilting her head. “Oh hello there, what do you need?” Overclock got up on her hind legs, clawing at the air in front of her for a moment before returning to all fours, looking up at the dragon with a questioning look. “Hmm...I think I have something. One second.” She rummaged through her bag, pulling out some long metal armored gloves, the ends sharpened to become blades. “Will these do?” Overclock nodded happily, her tail wagging in excitement. “Here.” The Guardian helped the Mirror put on her new weapons, and patted her head. “There you go, now go show them what for!” Overclock bowed in thanks, turning around to head back into battle now that she could actually claw at the invading demons. And so, she went and found herself an iceburg to fight, slashing away at tentacle and ice through the protection of her new armor. Of course, she continued to hex the enemy forces as she came across them as well, slowing the enemy advancement with her mastery of time. On the battlefield, she was perfectly at home. She hopped from group to group, speeding back and forth between Outsiders and defending her comrades from harm with her superior agility and tactical strikes. She even got to run up the side of one of the Outsiders and down the other side, tricking it into slamming itself in the head. Which had to hurt, considering a split wide open. Definitely not something she wanted to get hit by, and she wasn’t planning on it. And so, here she stands. Amidst the beautiful chaos of battle, looking around for a new group to join and a new foe to rend. And she smiled. It’s been far too long since she’d been in a good fight, she hadn’t gotten to [i]really[/i] go at it since she’d left Sornieth. This was...fun. At least, the fighting was. Not so much the imminent doom that would happen if they lost. But ah well. Happy thoughts. She spotted a new group of civilians fighting, and she flared her wings, her circuit-runes alive with magic and her haste spell being recast as the world slowed down. She ran forwards, eager to join with this new group and continue the fight.

[size=2][b]((Please take into account, at the time of writing, I had not seen the info of exactly WHAT our enemies were, so maybe there is actually a little less biting going on [unless Gruet is IMMUNE to the nastiness!] then is written below. xD ))[/b][/size] [center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1342979] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/13430/1342979_350.png[/img] [/url] [size=7][b]+[/b][/size] [img]https://media.tenor.co/images/507e1b5f90646570c2a949f4e580ccde/tenor.gif[/img][/center] There was a feeling in the air, a tension akin to that of an over-full waterskin, ready to burst, and Cia knew it was time. They were coming. Time to see that Vision he'd had turn untrue, time to save this Island and it's people before it sank! Giving the formerly rusty Cutlass one last sharpening [i]scrape[/i] (of course he sharpened it after buffing it and working out the worst dents, what kind of parent would he be if he didn't arm his child with a functioning weapon in battle?), he gave it one last once over before he handed it down the the VERY EXCITED Grue bouncing at his feet. Gruet's happy EEE echoed through the hold, making some of the other crew flinch as they remembered what usually followed such noises. Not this time though, they had a plan! "You remember what I told you, right Gruet?" Luminous eyes flicked back up to his Daddy's face, a grin showing off those wonderous teeth again. "Every proper Ninja needs proper Ninja training, and this is going to be your first field run, so it's very important that we stick together and you follow my lead. We'll knock out more of those nasty Outsiders that way, and the more we down, the better our odds of winning! And winning is a good thing, right?" An agreeing Eee followed. "Good boy, that's the ticket! Now, remember what I told you about being a Ninja; we strike best from behind, when their attention is on the front lines, and we hit to cripple, then move to the next. Just watch, you and me, we're gonna down the whole enemy line, all by ourselves, and they won't even know what hits them! Maybe you'll even have the chance to nibble on a few of their toes as we go, since I just know you're rearing to use those amazing teeth of yours!" He got another grin at that, wider even then the first. Up above, a sound started ringing through the air, finally popping that tension-bubble Cia had been feeling. It was time. They were here. "Okay little Ninja-in-Training, time to see what you've got!" With a churring-growl, Gruet was swung up onto his back again, and Ciaram sped up onto the deck, his focus zeroing in on the battle ahead. ~ It was chaos, utter chaos, out on the beaches and streets of Carmine. Warrior roaring, mage crackling, Outsider shrieking, it was everywhere all at once, and if he wasn't so seasoned a fighter, Ciaram knew he may have gotten lost in it. As it was, his own training kicked in easily as soon as things started getting interesting, and he was snapping from shadow to shadow, darting around clusters of fights to strike at unprotected backs and direct the flow of the battle into funnels where stronger allies would crush any opposition. Gruet was there all the while, the vast amount of sugar he had consumed before at the Festival making him even [i]faster[/i] than normal, slashing with his shiny-sharp sword and tearing with his shiny-sharp teeth. The little guy was doing great, and Ciaram couldn't be prouder. Neither of them were front-line fighters, one having more speed and magic at his disposal than sheer strength, and the other being a youngin' barely hatched, all sharpness and darkness. But, with Cia's experiance, he knew just where they needed to be, when they needed to be there. An overlarge Outsider was bearing down on a group of his crewmates? Cia would cast the net from his Seashell Mantle to tangle a leg, or Gruet would stab and bite into a hamstring to drop the enemy to the ground, opening it up for someone else to finish off. A group of the nasties trying to gang up on one of the First Crew? Their backs and sides would be harried by slashes and bites from the darkness around them, scattering their attention and creating an opening for the great veteran to blow wider. The protective contingent around Meep was getting battered? The net would fly and wickedly twisted Winds would magically break up any concentrated push towards the little Hatchling. Once or twice, the strange Spiral newcomer to the crew almost tripped over a jovially EEEing Gruelet as it jumped past to slash off some grabbing finger-appendages. They were everywhere, and nowhere, because they were gone just as quickly as they arrived, leaving wrecked enemy pushes in their wake. Such was the work of the Ninjas, sharp and quick, and this battle was just like any other Cia had known. The enemy was strange, the local different, but he knew the outcome would be the same. Victory [b]would[/b] be their's, and Carmine [b]would[/b] be saved.

[center]-----------------------------------[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=8968049][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/188410784714326016/267824204676726785/dragon.png[/img] [/url]------------------------------------[/center] [i]Keres wanders back down to the shore, sore from her fighting in the prison arena. She and Val have been taken out relatively early, which means there's more time to prepare. An attack is coming. In a few hours, probably, this beach will be soaked in blood and thick with chaos. Unfortunately, Keres can imagine it all too vividly. Really, it's pretty bad. She blinks rapidly, shaking the images from her head. The beach, for now, is empty. She'd better fix that. There are preparations to be made. She catches sight of a group of her crewmates also setting up defenses, and goes to join them. They have plans, absurd plans for a literal glass cannon. Well, an ice cannon anyways. At least that's something Keres can help with. Together with Erin, Keres sculpts a series of ice sheets that are as smooth and clear as mirrors. They carve precise lenses out of great slabs. Alone it's just a bunch of ice, but paired with a humble flower and the levitation of Eris' Arcane magics, they have their cannon. It hovers over the beach like a bastion. Good. Next come the walls, strategically placed around what they anticipate to be the battlefield. The ice is thick and frigid; Keres can see the cold wisping off of the barriers. If anything, they'll slow down the onslaught. Slow enough that the defending militia can overrun them, or the cannon can eliminate them. And that, Keres thinks to herself as she views the bolstered beach, is all that can be done. By now, more dragons have amassed with their own preparations. Until the attack, Keres waits. Her teeth are clenched and her wings folded tight. Then the battle is upon her, and she must act. It is her job to both protect the cannon and do all she can for the allied dragons. Always keeping close to the cannon, she ranges the field Rallying the fighters and Aiding the fallen. If she sees or hears the weapon of ice and light and pure Arcane force begin to falter, she's there to strengthen its mirrors and lenses. She will let nothing fall, not the cannon, not her crew.[/i] ------------------------ [right]((This post brought to you in collaboration with Stanari, Tyta, and Elistanel (the Magical Doom Squad). The objective extent of our plans can be found [url=https://docs.google.com/document/d/1UcbdUB_5Bg-WBJnoKaAMJYFG729-M6Lr2w3bQD23QhE/edit]here[/url].))[/right]

(enjoy my phone-based late-night attempt at artsy writing. it sucks
tl;dr angle's hallucinating the cave because 100 terror. things are Not Quite Right. he attempts to escape by blasting through the wall... in the real world, shooting lightning everywhere. some lightning hits... something. [hopefully an outsider.] discovers the hallucinatiom has limits. trips out. he contributed???)

* anglesey? awakes
*it's very dark
*cold, drippy--
*he taps one claw
*--echo-y.
* those, those...
*barbarians!
*those barbarians put him in a cave!
For some reason, he found he didn't like this one bit.
*anglesey looked around.
*it was dark
*but he could see quite well.
For some reason, he felt this was odd.
*the cave was boring.
*he could see nothing of worth anywhere
*a decrepit hole.
*he'd seen a thousand exactly like it
For some reason, this one was more familiar than most.
*he'd get out of here quite easily, though,
*with his
*he didn't have his pickaxe.
*stormcatcher almighty
For some reason, he couldn't quite remember how he lost it.
*if he couldn't go up
*(he couldn't see the ceiling, and...)
For some reason, he found he wouldn't (couldn't?) fly. Anglesey switched his jet-boots on. They let out a sad puff of smoke and crackled a little.
For some reason. They were supposed to be brand new.
*and if he didn't have his pick...
*he'd have to do it the hard way
*anglesey smiled, in spite of himself.
*the cave wall shimmered
*and a BLAST of lightning hit it, point blank
*the smoke cleared...
For some reason, nothing had changed.
(from far away, something howls in pain)
*blast.
*magic-proof?
*anglesey knew a secret
*nothing is magic-proof
*only magic-resistant
*if you hit it hard enough...
*KZZZZZT
*a crack!
For some reason, the darkness in the crack shimmered, a little.
(from far away, something screams in agony)
*KZZZZZT
*KZZZZZT
*KZZZZZT
*there!
A chunk of rock fell away with a force unreasonable to its size.
For some reason, there was nothing.
Not more rock, just... nothing. A rippling sheet of black. It gurgled uncomfortably when Anglesey prodded it.
(from far away, something groans and topples to the ground.)
*this was n o t r i g h t
*no
*n o
*n o????
* nxxxxxxxo

For some reason, Anglesey could not remember his name. The quivering darkness had swallowed it.

It swallowed him.
*no

Eris can feel the slow hum of mana in her hands as she weaves an enchantment on the enormous light cannon. There is a glimmer of light as the spell takes, joining with the ice and delicately glowing flower and holding them in place. She tests it, giving the ice a good shove. It holds, and she sets about carving the rune that will lift it into the air, allowing it to defy gravity like the floating islands of her home.

With a burst of magic, Eris invests the rune. It glitters faintly before suddenly the entire thing is floating into the air. Eris jumps hastily to stop it, and halts its movement with a gentle hand. It’s feather-light now, the dominion of gravity weakened to almost nothing.

The tension of the dragons around her is evident. They are restless, shaky; some look like they’re about to cry. So she sings, Rallying those around her to their cause. With one hand she forms the runes of sonomancy, touching her voice with a warmth that chases away the terror of an oncoming battle and braces the gathered warriors against the touch of a hostile mind.

Stars above us, once you heard
My prayer, my cry, my plea!
Now you call us, and we've returned;
Give us the strength to save the Sea!

Protect our bodies, our souls, our minds
With your might, hold back swallowing night;
Soon a path to the Heart we'll find,
To the darkness we'll bring light!

Many there were that fought back Shade;
Seven there were whose life they gave
Six the seals, the Gates they made;
Take heart, have faith, be brave!

Then, they’re here. Monoliths on the horizon. The defense party springs into action; somehow, in the shuffle, Eris ends up wing to wing with Lucien. She looks like she wants to protest, but thinks better of it. The two mages catapult into the air, bounding over walls of ice and rune-traps laid by the magically inclined to drain power and twist attacks awry.

Eris soars into the air, already weaving a shining wheel of runes around them. Wisps of shadow hiss as they impact her shields, but the magic holds. Arcane energy races alongside her - it’s Spira, her familiar, taking to the air to provide her an extra burst of power. She twists mana into dozens of searingly pink strands and snaps out lashes of magic to disintegrate anything that dares approach. A tendril of void strikes out, but she severs it with a slash of magical energy. Shadows are deflected by the gently corrosive blade of her sword, which shimmers with the distortion of Arcane magic.

Circles of glowing runes dance around her, some shoved in the direction of the Outsiders themselves and some called to deflect blows. A ring of sigils clamps down on a questing arm of void, spitting sparks before the void-flesh subsumes the spell. Eris swerves to dodge a glob of shadows, then turns to crush them in a sphere of symbols she barely recognizes. Spira flashes her a wink before the sprite, now in the form of a very ferocious-looking bird, annihilates an errant shadow in a sheet of light.

And so it goes, on and on. Spira lends Eris its strength, channeling a stream of mana towards her when she flags. But she’s no war mage, to throw her will against dark gods unceasingly, and soon what runes she knows aren’t enough to fend off attacks. Blow by blow, she’s forced to retreat. The Outsiders seem undeterred; when a dragon finally covers her withdrawal they are still encroaching, as unstoppable as before.

Maybe she bought someone something. An opening, a gap, a brief respite; a few more boats of refugees. She lets herself believe that, and rises to her feet again.

There’s no more spells left in her. But a song? That much she can do.

Lucien, Carmine Beach, In Conjunction with Keres, Erin, and Eris:

When the plan had been passed between the four of them, it was understood that Lucien would run interference. This was fine. He’d much rather be useful than not, and the runes scorched into the ground hardly seemed a proper utility. Besides, the speed in which he was used to working in battle lent itself to the hypothesized hit-and-run assaults he was planning. He was good at interference. He had run drills and missions both utilizing the same basic tactics. He could bear to have the target on his back, this time.

What he hadn’t realized, upon agreeing to this plan, was just how large the enemies he would be facing were. This rather changed the game, for him.

The ice mages had done their part, and the proof of their work hung in the sky and stood steadfast upon the shore, icy bulwarks accompanied by a crystalline canon, all of which cast a pale hue in the absence of natural light. Eris, too, was fast at work in casting, and he could almost hear the ritual outright as it was spoken. The beasts were closing in. It was his turn.

When Lucien flies, he soars- it’s as natural to most skydancers as breathing, and even he, though weighed down by metal and cloth and tools, was no exception; he took to the air as if it had belonged to him, solely, as if he had dominion over the very currents.

(Not that this place had wind. Not in the way Sorneith knew.)

And, just as the skydancer takes to the sky, so too does Lucien take to battle. Maneuvering comes easily, and he dodges through constructs and cast spells alike, his lithe body weaving in and out of battle. The haste spell helps. He feels like hes cutting through time, cutting back time, cutting the distance shorter and shorter with each trip from beast-foot to tendril to sky and back again. The fire burning hot from his mouth doesn’t seem to phase the beasts, but that was okay. It was important that they were distracted at all.

(Maybe the cannon could do what he couldn’t. Maybe this was all he was ever good for.)

Off to his right, Eris casts a spell. He’s unsure of the effect. A lot of spells are going off. A lot of dragons are going down, too. Darkness dances at the edge of his vision, but more prominent is the tendrils- the dark nebulae- that undulate and grasp as those dragons without cover, without help, and Lucien watches helplessly as they vanish from his sight. A guardian, a pearlcatcher, a young skydancer like himself. Footprints are left in the gravel where they stood moments before, but otherwise, it might as well have been as if they never existed. One of them leaves a pair of glasses behind. Lucien doesn’t know how he's able to spot it, so high up.

What he does know is this- The ice is melting. He never saw the cannons go off. He hasn't seen one of his shipmates in what feels like hours. The fires don’t seem to be doing anything, and dragons are dying in the retreat. (He thinks.) So yeah, interference. If they couldn’t win this battle, maybe he could at least make sure the others lived to fight another day.

Lucien shifts his position in the air, dives down to the ground. Takes a breath and, with one movement, bestows aid upon a retreating mirror. Haste upon a ridgeback carrying his smaller companions off the shore. A tendril steals a spiral away from him moments before he can arrive to help- the dragons singular eye met with his over the scant feet between them, and then he was gone, and in an attempt to pull away from an impending doom Lucien clips a barricade and goes tumbling across the sand, tail and leg and then shoulder and then head into the dirt, over and over, somersaulting in a way a dragons body was never meant to. He pulls his head from the dirt and the shadows are closing in, rapidly. He lifts a claw from the gravel and casts haste on a nearby fae, his chest heaving for want of breath. She makes it out, and he mutters a prayer of thanks to whatever deity can hear him on this hellish beach.

Despite everything, he finds his footing. Stumbles up. Mutters a few words- his right shoulder is aching, and likely bleeding, though he can’t find the willpower to care- and takes off instead, bright orange feathers drifting down into the depression in the sand. He makes for the next nearest dragon with a hope of making it out of the front lines alive, his lungs aching for breath, his hands buzzing with benevolent energy and bloody-raw from the exertion. Somewhere off to his left, he thinks he sees Eris- but maybe its just his eyes playing tricks on him. He hopes shes safe. Hopes Erin and Keres are safe, too. A pair of wildclaws get away after a timely sear is laid out against the shadow, the light licking at its infinite darkness. Interference. Right. A half-hearted jet of flame at the foot of the golem. An aid spell on a snapper stumbling sideways in the sediment. Interference. He could do that. He was good at running interference.

Maybe good enough to make a difference.