Quests & Challenges

42

July 11, 2022 14:56:03

BROKEN PEARLS
A Pearlcatcher Kingdomlocke

Hello there! This is my first locke :D. I think it's going to be lore-heavy but depends on my mood and availability. The lore is below but in short it's about a foreign tyrant who just took control of a peaceful clan. My english is wonky. I hope you enjoy it!

"Those who lack interest in games are the most entertaining players."

The peaceful, democractic and young clan of Eravitia knew that danger inhabited the other side of the shore — clans sworn to the Plaguebringer ripped others on their viciousness in the other side of the ocean.

This was contrary to their ways. The Eravitians were pacifists first and foremost, defying their divine mandates to war against other elements. Dragons of wind and light had flewn together from their deities to a forgotten beach, and there struck down peace with the inhabiting beastclans who built their city.

Or at least was so before a wayward plagueling first cast it gaze upon it. His jealous gaze took note, and this dragon — Delver — returned to his own lands, brought warriors, and attacked Eravitia with pestilence until most Eravitian ministers agreed to a surrender.

If they hoped for mercy, they did not find it. Delver's personal guard slayed them in great numbers. Then the plague dragon transformed the Forum into his new home, the Solicastle, and invited to it two dragons from the old Eravitia — the first he took for consort, the second as a lackey.

Threatening as he appears, Delver's position is more fragile than it seems. The Eravitians were greater in number than their own troops, all of which were slain. He maintains power only by empty threats of being a noble scion and further calamity being wrought if he was unthroned — none of this being truth.

The King

[1] Delver || Royal || Level 7 || ♥
Delver came flying over the seas and attacked Eravitia with a retinue composed of his followers, dissidents from his old clan, and even mercenaries. He currently reigns over the city, if a child equilibrating themselves in top of a pile of rocks could be called "reigning".
No one alive but him and his old clan know why he sought power, and it is better this way. For him, at least.

The Servants

[1] Goshawk || Alchemist || Level 7 || ♥
In the past, Goshawk was a minister, one of the ten rulers of Eravitia. She was responsible for maintaining the alliance with and hearing the old Beastclan inhabitants of Eravitia. Delver obviously cut down any concerns of diplomacy with inferior creatures when he took power.
Of the ten old ministers, she is the only one who remains. Delver took her as a consort.

[1] Maximo || Artist || Level 7 || ♥
Maximo nowadays makes a living of living as a fetcher for Delver. When he first saw Delver's group flying in the horizon, he did not fight back. He hid, as did many others. But contrary to the others, Maximo was the only one who presented himself right in front to Delver afterwards and openly pledged allegiance.
For all purposes, he appears to be the telltale image of a groveler.

[6] Deathclaw || unemployed || Level 1 || ♥
Found hatchling.

[8] Griffith || unemployed || Level 1 || ♥
Bought hatchling.

The Fallen

[6-6] unnamed || unemployed || Level 1 || ♥
Stillborn hatchling :(

[6-7] Sakura || unemployed || Level 1 || ♥
Found hatchling. Failed hatchling survival roll :(

[6-8] Anios || unemployed || Level 1 || ♥
Delver and Goshawk's only hatchling. Failed hatchling survival roll :(

[6-8] Dicerbo || unemployed || Level 1 || ♥
Found hatchling. Failed hatchling survival roll :(

Passing of Days

Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10

Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14
Day 15
Day 16
Day 17
Day 18
Day 19
Day ...

My Kingdomlocke!

Last edited on Jul 18, 2022 08:26:10 by Gatan

Reserved

Gatan

42

July 11, 2022 14:56:14

Reserved

My Kingdomlocke!

Reserved

Gatan

42

July 11, 2022 14:56:18

Reserved

My Kingdomlocke!

Reserved

Gatan

42

July 11, 2022 14:57:01

Reserved

My Kingdomlocke!

Reserved

Gatan

42

July 11, 2022 14:57:06

Reserved

My Kingdomlocke!

[center][size=7][font=times new roman]Day One[/font][/size] [size=5][font=calibri][item=Clay Fertility Statue] [/font][/size] [font=times new roman][size=5]Roll 1d20: 7 — Quest time![/size][size=4] Pick two dragons at random. They have to go on a quest now. Raise both of them a level. Roll a 6-sided die for each. If it’s a 1, They lose a life or they’re exalted as they were lost in the mission. During Quests, dragons are invincible and cannot die in Coli. Roll 1d3: 1 — Delver Roll 1d2: 1 — Goshawk Roll 1d6: 3, 4 — Both alive[/size][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Hk7OapP.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/788310/78830946.png[/img][/center][font=calibri][size=4] In the heart of the city stands a castle of white stone. It was built by beastfolk and tended by the wind and light magic of its old dragons, with byzantine floating rooms and vitrales that shone even during the night. Now they are slain, only the central tower remains, and the nights would be dark without the use common lanterns. The moonlight shone through the arch in this part of the Forum — Goshawk would always call it by its old name on her thoughts. She stood on a corner, retracted as a hen on top of a nest. The shards of the window still filled the floor, dotting it like a rug. The window itself was now merely a hole with a frame of glass teeth. If she looked at where it used to be intensely and let her thoughts consume her surroundings, Goshawk could see the image there imprinted before, a harpy with her multi-stringed golden bow. A male of this beastkind once told her that their people were scribes and artists before the dragons started attacking, and that bow was a musical instrument. Goshawk replied him she would like to listen to their songs again, but those hopes were from before Delver's attack. She wondered then how many beastfolk did not flee and were rather hiding in the city. If they were safe, if they had an alternative, if they could ever trust dragonkind again. It was the nearing light of a lantern that broke her trance. Someone came from the corridors with a lantern. She turned to see Delver in the door, holding it on his mouth. He could have held it on his hands and flew to the entrance, she remarked, but he chose not to announce his arrival. — We're going out — his voice was a whiplash. — And if I'm out, who would warm the nest? — She replied just as cold. — Maximo. Make yourself ready. — He picked up the lantern again and flew into the darkness. She reunited light in the tip of her horn and illuminated the room with motes of moonlight, lighting up the vitral in the floor and then getting up from the nest. The two eggs trembled under her, and she took care not to roll them — her hand first, a leg later, until she was stable to slowly move herself away from the top of the eggs and let one roll sideways to the ground on accident. Many were her callings, though one of them was not being a mother. She scoured the room with the motes, finding her target at least — a pearl-holding bag she flew to and put the handle over her neck. It was then that the sound of four beating wings warned her of visitors in the entrance before their lantern did — the hard-to-see Delver, followed a few seconds after by the bright-colored Maximo who held the lantern for his small master. He moved closer to the nest on his feet, getting on top of the eggs and circling his tail around them with a single motion. Much quicker and easier than she did, she noticed. A father before. She was still unsure what to think of the second invasor of the Forum. Delver was easy to have opinions on, her hatred was true. But this one? He wasn't a hatchling born here, for they all held the cyan eyes of the Stormcaller's gray domain in the cliffs above. Maximo had the light green of the Wind on all scattered eyes across his body. Of one thing she could be certain, however, and it was that they made for a disturbing countenance as all twenty eyes looked at her. Delver broke her trance again, flying through the hole in the window with ease — he was of long-spanned windows, but of a hatchling-sized body. — Come — he said, looking at her. She moved to the border of the window, looking how to pass through without suffering dents from the rugged glass. Delver must have noticed this, for he broke another section of the vitral inwards with his tail. The colored shards flew inwards, in the meaningless mosaic in the floor. Some went in Maximo's direction, and he closed all twenty eyes at the same time. — Come — he repeated, with less patience. Delver would take flight first when Goshawk was getting out of the window, going high in the sky. He was a dragon of small size, dark-colored scales and dots and lines the color of the moon — tricky to see against the night sky. In the flight, she followed him much by sound. — Where are we going? — She asked. — I saw a dissident. They were the distance of a short flight, but distance themselves further as we speak. Keep silent, the hunted may hear. And go fast, the hunt does not wait. This sank her heart. Not because of her worry against Delver's laws being broken — although she was curious on what the dragon was doing — but on their wellbeing. She looked to the night sky, wishing them well in their endeavors. And this also explained why Delver brought her, and not Maximo, together — he was of slow flight. The rest of the flight was quiet as ordered, with Delver scouring left and right and Goshawk lost in her thoughts. Finally, he must have found something, for he dived downwards. She took a moment to break for her stupor, but followed. Their target was now visible, an icy-white dragon who stood out against the shadowed treetops as today's moon on the night sky. To Goshawk's surprise, however, Delver didn't dive further. He stopped to fly parallel, overseeing the other dragon. — What are you waiting for? Attack — he whispered. — But I thought... — She replied, less concerned with the volume of her voice. — Quiet. Just attack. She took a deep breath, reuniting again moonlight in the tip of her horn. — Don't... — Delver started a phrase he would not finish. Goshawk released the white light in a white ray several meters right to their target, missing on purpose. The white dragon, who dodged her ray even further to the left, looked up and shouted warnings — warnings to unseen targets. Delver snorted in annoyance, but did not berate. He followed, crying in the way his last order. —Dive and attack with your own claws! She saw him dash, and waited a few moments, both to give time for the fugitive to harm Delver and out of hesitation. Then she sank forward in the white dragon's direction. Instead of counter-attacking, however, the white dragon had only turned to further flee from their attacks — which positioned himself closer to a diving Goshawk. The two fell to the ground together, Goshawk pinning the white dragon to the ground. She struggled to keep them under her, as she was not a born nor trained fighter. She noticed that they found themselves in the same situation. Their cyan eyes scourred around instead of calling lightning upon her, and they did not attack her well-exposed neck. Instead, the white dragon merely tried to disentangle themselves. Their eyes looked right and left discomposedly, avoiding looking at her. It was when Delver landed at their side that they kept themselves to a single direction — him. This did not mean that the white dragon was calmed, as they struggled even harder against Goshawk's grasp and began now to implore. — Let me go! Let me go! — The white dragon stared Delver ruby-red eyes. Goshawk stopped struggling and lifted her arms, beating her wings backwards. The white dragon rolled to the side, starting to lift themselves from the side. Delver quickly dashed forward with a claw extended, and slashed his neck. The white dragon fell forwards, its wound starting to pulsate with the power of pestilence. Goshawk beat her wings further, gaining equilibrium and putting herself up over her hind legs. — Why... Why did you? — She asked with repugned surprise. — ...They had surrendered. — They surrendered to my justice, — he replied. — They should be aware of the consequences. Goshawk took a few steps back, considering attacking Delver for the hundredth time as the hundredth over the top, melodramatical phrase came from his jaws. She took the idea out of her head as she always did, the night-colored dragon was much better-trained for a duel than she was. But this time, contrary to the others, she took courage to ask the question that always was on the back of her inquiring mind. — But why, Delver? Why did you attack us? If you wanted asylum, all you had to do was to merely ask. We would offer it readily and with no judgement. The Eravitians were pacifists... —Pacifists? — He looked from the white-and-red face of the fallen dragon to hers. — No, I would not call yourselves so. You had not the power to defend yourselves. Peace is a choice. If you cannot maintain it, it's not pacifism. It's weakness. She was avoiding his eyes, but now locked them in a death stare. She knew it to be false. And she knew it would be wise not to reply, even as a hundred counterarguments formed in her mind.

Gatan

42

July 11, 2022 18:33:45

Day One

Roll 1d20: 7 — Quest time!
Pick two dragons at random. They have to go on a quest now. Raise both of them a level. Roll a 6-sided die for each. If it’s a 1, They lose a life or they’re exalted as they were lost in the mission.
During Quests, dragons are invincible and cannot die in Coli.

Roll 1d3: 1 — Delver
Roll 1d2: 1 — Goshawk

Roll 1d6: 3, 4 — Both alive

In the heart of the city stands a castle of white stone. It was built by beastfolk and tended by the wind and light magic of its old dragons, with byzantine floating rooms and vitrales that shone even during the night. Now they are slain, only the central tower remains, and the nights would be dark without the use common lanterns.

The moonlight shone through the arch in this part of the Forum — Goshawk would always call it by its old name on her thoughts. She stood on a corner, retracted as a hen on top of a nest. The shards of the window still filled the floor, dotting it like a rug. The window itself was now merely a hole with a frame of glass teeth.

If she looked at where it used to be intensely and let her thoughts consume her surroundings, Goshawk could see the image there imprinted before, a harpy with her multi-stringed golden bow. A male of this beastkind once told her that their people were scribes and artists before the dragons started attacking, and that bow was a musical instrument. Goshawk replied him she would like to listen to their songs again, but those hopes were from before Delver's attack.

She wondered then how many beastfolk did not flee and were rather hiding in the city. If they were safe, if they had an alternative, if they could ever trust dragonkind again.

It was the nearing light of a lantern that broke her trance. Someone came from the corridors with a lantern. She turned to see Delver in the door, holding it on his mouth. He could have held it on his hands and flew to the entrance, she remarked, but he chose not to announce his arrival.

— We're going out — his voice was a whiplash.

— And if I'm out, who would warm the nest? — She replied just as cold.

— Maximo. Make yourself ready. — He picked up the lantern again and flew into the darkness.

She reunited light in the tip of her horn and illuminated the room with motes of moonlight, lighting up the vitral in the floor and then getting up from the nest. The two eggs trembled under her, and she took care not to roll them — her hand first, a leg later, until she was stable to slowly move herself away from the top of the eggs and let one roll sideways to the ground on accident. Many were her callings, though one of them was not being a mother.

She scoured the room with the motes, finding her target at least — a pearl-holding bag she flew to and put the handle over her neck.

It was then that the sound of four beating wings warned her of visitors in the entrance before their lantern did — the hard-to-see Delver, followed a few seconds after by the bright-colored Maximo who held the lantern for his small master. He moved closer to the nest on his feet, getting on top of the eggs and circling his tail around them with a single motion. Much quicker and easier than she did, she noticed. A father before.

She was still unsure what to think of the second invasor of the Forum. Delver was easy to have opinions on, her hatred was true. But this one? He wasn't a hatchling born here, for they all held the cyan eyes of the Stormcaller's gray domain in the cliffs above. Maximo had the light green of the Wind on all scattered eyes across his body. Of one thing she could be certain, however, and it was that they made for a disturbing countenance as all twenty eyes looked at her.

Delver broke her trance again, flying through the hole in the window with ease — he was of long-spanned windows, but of a hatchling-sized body.

— Come — he said, looking at her.

She moved to the border of the window, looking how to pass through without suffering dents from the rugged glass. Delver must have noticed this, for he broke another section of the vitral inwards with his tail. The colored shards flew inwards, in the meaningless mosaic in the floor. Some went in Maximo's direction, and he closed all twenty eyes at the same time.

— Come — he repeated, with less patience.

Delver would take flight first when Goshawk was getting out of the window, going high in the sky. He was a dragon of small size, dark-colored scales and dots and lines the color of the moon — tricky to see against the night sky. In the flight, she followed him much by sound.

— Where are we going? — She asked.

— I saw a dissident. They were the distance of a short flight, but distance themselves further as we speak. Keep silent, the hunted may hear. And go fast, the hunt does not wait.

This sank her heart. Not because of her worry against Delver's laws being broken — although she was curious on what the dragon was doing — but on their wellbeing. She looked to the night sky, wishing them well in their endeavors. And this also explained why Delver brought her, and not Maximo, together — he was of slow flight.

The rest of the flight was quiet as ordered, with Delver scouring left and right and Goshawk lost in her thoughts. Finally, he must have found something, for he dived downwards. She took a moment to break for her stupor, but followed. Their target was now visible, an icy-white dragon who stood out against the shadowed treetops as today's moon on the night sky. To Goshawk's surprise, however, Delver didn't dive further. He stopped to fly parallel, overseeing the other dragon.

— What are you waiting for? Attack — he whispered.

— But I thought... — She replied, less concerned with the volume of her voice.

— Quiet. Just attack.

She took a deep breath, reuniting again moonlight in the tip of her horn.

— Don't... — Delver started a phrase he would not finish.

Goshawk released the white light in a white ray several meters right to their target, missing on purpose. The white dragon, who dodged her ray even further to the left, looked up and shouted warnings — warnings to unseen targets.

Delver snorted in annoyance, but did not berate. He followed, crying in the way his last order.

—Dive and attack with your own claws!

She saw him dash, and waited a few moments, both to give time for the fugitive to harm Delver and out of hesitation. Then she sank forward in the white dragon's direction. Instead of counter-attacking, however, the white dragon had only turned to further flee from their attacks — which positioned himself closer to a diving Goshawk.

The two fell to the ground together, Goshawk pinning the white dragon to the ground. She struggled to keep them under her, as she was not a born nor trained fighter. She noticed that they found themselves in the same situation. Their cyan eyes scourred around instead of calling lightning upon her, and they did not attack her well-exposed neck. Instead, the white dragon merely tried to disentangle themselves.

Their eyes looked right and left discomposedly, avoiding looking at her. It was when Delver landed at their side that they kept themselves to a single direction — him. This did not mean that the white dragon was calmed, as they struggled even harder against Goshawk's grasp and began now to implore.

— Let me go! Let me go! — The white dragon stared Delver ruby-red eyes.

Goshawk stopped struggling and lifted her arms, beating her wings backwards. The white dragon rolled to the side, starting to lift themselves from the side. Delver quickly dashed forward with a claw extended, and slashed his neck. The white dragon fell forwards, its wound starting to pulsate with the power of pestilence.

Goshawk beat her wings further, gaining equilibrium and putting herself up over her hind legs.

— Why... Why did you? — She asked with repugned surprise. — ...They had surrendered.

— They surrendered to my justice, — he replied. — They should be aware of the consequences.

Goshawk took a few steps back, considering attacking Delver for the hundredth time as the hundredth over the top, melodramatical phrase came from his jaws. She took the idea out of her head as she always did, the night-colored dragon was much better-trained for a duel than she was. But this time, contrary to the others, she took courage to ask the question that always was on the back of her inquiring mind.

— But why, Delver? Why did you attack us? If you wanted asylum, all you had to do was to merely ask. We would offer it readily and with no judgement. The Eravitians were pacifists...

—Pacifists? — He looked from the white-and-red face of the fallen dragon to hers. — No, I would not call yourselves so. You had not the power to defend yourselves. Peace is a choice. If you cannot maintain it, it's not pacifism. It's weakness.

She was avoiding his eyes, but now locked them in a death stare. She knew it to be false. And she knew it would be wise not to reply, even as a hundred counterarguments formed in her mind.

My Kingdomlocke!

Last edited on Jul 11, 2022 18:40:59 by Gatan

[center][size=7][font=times new roman]Day Two[/font][/size] [size=5][font=calibri][item=Igueel Leather] [/font][/size] [font=times new roman][size=5]Roll 1d20: 14 — Emperor Dragon Slaughter[/size][size=4] Your kingdom is rampaged by a giant emperor dragon! Roll a 10 sided dice for every dragon in your kingdom. On a 1, the dragon is exalted / loses a life. Roll 1d10: 7 — Delver Roll 1d10: 10 — Goshawk Roll 1d10: 10 — Maximo [/size][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Hk7OapP.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/431625/43162483.png[/img][/center][font=calibri][size=4] The creature arrived without warning, a giant shadow covering the city with the sound of a hurricane. The second one to notice it must have been Goshawk, curled over her nest and always looking over the broken window. The first one was Maximo. The bright green dragon rested atop the Solicastle, overlooking the city and measuring the devastation. He always had a costum of resting his tail curved in the back, to both have a full 360° vision and to keep it stable — if your entire field of vision shifted when you moved an arm or leg, you would have the same concern. The colossus made itself clear on the horizon. Maximo's twenty eyes all opened alert at once. There were fortunately few of them in Eravitia right now that were not already in hiding. And, with luck, the Emperor would pass this as a dead city. He flew inside over a deprecated part of a wall, in a wide and open room that Delver himself liked to stay. Delver, absorbed in a reading, turned his head to the other dragon. It was always somewhat humorous, he thought, how such a small dragon looked like a blotch of ink in the white stones of the room. Of course, this was not something he would ever bring to voice. — Emperor, your majesty, — he started speaking before being prompted to. — Two heads. Delver froze in place. — Hide inside. The Emperor shouldn't take notice of us. It can't, — Delver replied. — And what about the citizenry? — Maximo asked. — Their fault if they do otherwise. Go inform Goshawk, — he replied, flying away and leaving his scroll behind. Maximo would very well like to see what the paper held, but they had now not the time. He flew towards the nesting room, and Goshawk was already looking at the door when he arrived. She said nothing, and merely stared at him with those melancolic eyes of hers. Her balance over the nest was worse than yesterday's, he noticed, but she kept her tail curled forward as he did the night before. — Emperor dragon, minister. We have been ordered to hide and await until it passes Eravitia as a dead city. Her gaze turned from the battle cry of the lost to the sharp cunning of a fox in a phrase. She would ask about the nest, as likely. — What about the citizens? — Her words came as a surprise. — We had orders not to worry about them. — Maximo replied. — Let happen to them as it will. Goshawk closed her eyes, slowly unraveling herself from the top of the nest again. This time, she did not slowly unmount her hindlegs and stretch. She rolled sharply to the side, falling on her back, and then to her feet. A roar and a loud thump in the horizon. The Emperor drew closer. — "Orders not to worry," — she mocked his tone. — Maximo, follow me. Goshawk took impulse to dash in a single line through the broken vitral, the wind shaking the eggs and scrambling the glass pieces in the floor on her wake. Of a slower and more composed flight, he followed, but not before looking back to the eggs one last time. He hoped they would not be gone for too long. Goshawk kept herself sticking closing to the Solicastle's main tower, passing through the corner only her head to see the Emperor dragon. Maximo sticked the lower eye of his tail for the same effect. Goshawk flew closer, building from building, where it already passed. Maximo merely looked her on the horizon, thinking on her lack of survival instinct, before the Emperor crept ever closer. Then he realized that he needed to follow. In a single dash, he took impulse from the Castle's walls and followed Goshawk's wake. The blue pearlcatcher scoured, trying to find survivors. The Emperor in the horizon was taking its own sweet time doing the same. Maximo followed, attent on her. She stopped by a moment, staring at two dead longnecks in the street, a big and a smaller one, parted in two by the Emperor's claws. Maximo closed all eyes on the left side of his body, but Goshawk kept staring, lost. The green dragon kept her search for her, and his multitude of extra eyes made him more apt to the task. He looked at different places with his head, tail and limbs, whilst his trunk kept watch over the street. One of them found something without realizing, as a prod of the multi-gazed tail under a collapsed second floor brought out a muffled scream. He looked up with his head. The Emperor was too distant to hear it, nearing the Solicastle they were now far removed from. Meanwhile, on his tail, he could see the source of the cry — a longneck woman. The sound was also enough to bring Goshawk out of her trance and dashing inside the building. — Where are you? — Her voice was tense, forcedly sweet. — Are you hurt? The infant kept on hiding, speaking narrow a sound. — Inside the hole to the top-left. The one with three planks crossing over it. — Maximo reported the answer to her own question. This must have made Goshawk feel aware somehow, for she turned her head to stare at his tail-eyes before moving towards the hole in the ground, motes of reflected sunlight illuminating the room. Outside, the deafening sound of the Emperor's cries. — Do not come closer... Traitor... Dragon... YOU... We should have sold you to Talona when we had the chance... You all... — Hushed whispers came from the hideout. —We are here to help — Goshawk continued sweetly. — Here, we... The dragon's voice was interrupted by a thrown rock and the sound of the Emperor dragon's four wings all beating at the same time. The pebble had a null chance of hurting a creature six meters in length, and merely a risk to unearth a dragon's ire. Goshawk retreated, nevertheless, looking at Maximo's extended tail-eye again. — We can do nothing. I can do... Nothing, — she said in a tearful tone, though no tears rolled down her cheeks. — Where is the Emperor? — Passed. — Maximo replied as the scout. — Going towards the sea. Goshawk closed her eyes for a moment, dissipating the sunlight inside the building. — Then let us return, — she replied.

Gatan

42

July 12, 2022 10:20:22

Day Two

Roll 1d20: 14 — Emperor Dragon Slaughter
Your kingdom is rampaged by a giant emperor dragon! Roll a 10 sided dice for every dragon in your kingdom. On a 1, the dragon is exalted / loses a life.

Roll 1d10: 7 — Delver
Roll 1d10: 10 — Goshawk
Roll 1d10: 10 — Maximo

The creature arrived without warning, a giant shadow covering the city with the sound of a hurricane. The second one to notice it must have been Goshawk, curled over her nest and always looking over the broken window.

The first one was Maximo.

The bright green dragon rested atop the Solicastle, overlooking the city and measuring the devastation. He always had a costum of resting his tail curved in the back, to both have a full 360° vision and to keep it stable — if your entire field of vision shifted when you moved an arm or leg, you would have the same concern.

The colossus made itself clear on the horizon. Maximo's twenty eyes all opened alert at once. There were fortunately few of them in Eravitia right now that were not already in hiding. And, with luck, the Emperor would pass this as a dead city.

He flew inside over a deprecated part of a wall, in a wide and open room that Delver himself liked to stay. Delver, absorbed in a reading, turned his head to the other dragon. It was always somewhat humorous, he thought, how such a small dragon looked like a blotch of ink in the white stones of the room. Of course, this was not something he would ever bring to voice.

— Emperor, your majesty, — he started speaking before being prompted to. — Two heads.

Delver froze in place.

— Hide inside. The Emperor shouldn't take notice of us. It can't, — Delver replied.

— And what about the citizenry? — Maximo asked.

— Their fault if they do otherwise. Go inform Goshawk, — he replied, flying away and leaving his scroll behind.

Maximo would very well like to see what the paper held, but they had now not the time. He flew towards the nesting room, and Goshawk was already looking at the door when he arrived. She said nothing, and merely stared at him with those melancolic eyes of hers. Her balance over the nest was worse than yesterday's, he noticed, but she kept her tail curled forward as he did the night before.

— Emperor dragon, minister. We have been ordered to hide and await until it passes Eravitia as a dead city.

Her gaze turned from the battle cry of the lost to the sharp cunning of a fox in a phrase. She would ask about the nest, as likely.

— What about the citizens? — Her words came as a surprise.

— We had orders not to worry about them. — Maximo replied. — Let happen to them as it will.

Goshawk closed her eyes, slowly unraveling herself from the top of the nest again. This time, she did not slowly unmount her hindlegs and stretch. She rolled sharply to the side, falling on her back, and then to her feet.

A roar and a loud thump in the horizon. The Emperor drew closer.

— "Orders not to worry," — she mocked his tone. — Maximo, follow me.

Goshawk took impulse to dash in a single line through the broken vitral, the wind shaking the eggs and scrambling the glass pieces in the floor on her wake. Of a slower and more composed flight, he followed, but not before looking back to the eggs one last time. He hoped they would not be gone for too long.

Goshawk kept herself sticking closing to the Solicastle's main tower, passing through the corner only her head to see the Emperor dragon. Maximo sticked the lower eye of his tail for the same effect.

Goshawk flew closer, building from building, where it already passed. Maximo merely looked her on the horizon, thinking on her lack of survival instinct, before the Emperor crept ever closer. Then he realized that he needed to follow. In a single dash, he took impulse from the Castle's walls and followed Goshawk's wake.

The blue pearlcatcher scoured, trying to find survivors. The Emperor in the horizon was taking its own sweet time doing the same. Maximo followed, attent on her. She stopped by a moment, staring at two dead longnecks in the street, a big and a smaller one, parted in two by the Emperor's claws. Maximo closed all eyes on the left side of his body, but Goshawk kept staring, lost.

The green dragon kept her search for her, and his multitude of extra eyes made him more apt to the task. He looked at different places with his head, tail and limbs, whilst his trunk kept watch over the street. One of them found something without realizing, as a prod of the multi-gazed tail under a collapsed second floor brought out a muffled scream.

He looked up with his head. The Emperor was too distant to hear it, nearing the Solicastle they were now far removed from. Meanwhile, on his tail, he could see the source of the cry — a longneck woman. The sound was also enough to bring Goshawk out of her trance and dashing inside the building.

— Where are you? — Her voice was tense, forcedly sweet. — Are you hurt?

The infant kept on hiding, speaking narrow a sound.

— Inside the hole to the top-left. The one with three planks crossing over it. — Maximo reported the answer to her own question.

This must have made Goshawk feel aware somehow, for she turned her head to stare at his tail-eyes before moving towards the hole in the ground, motes of reflected sunlight illuminating the room. Outside, the deafening sound of the Emperor's cries.

— Do not come closer... Traitor... Dragon... YOU... We should have sold you to Talona when we had the chance... You all... — Hushed whispers came from the hideout.

—We are here to help — Goshawk continued sweetly. — Here, we...

The dragon's voice was interrupted by a thrown rock and the sound of the Emperor dragon's four wings all beating at the same time. The pebble had a null chance of hurting a creature six meters in length, and merely a risk to unearth a dragon's ire. Goshawk retreated, nevertheless, looking at Maximo's extended tail-eye again.

— We can do nothing. I can do... Nothing, — she said in a tearful tone, though no tears rolled down her cheeks. — Where is the Emperor?

— Passed. — Maximo replied as the scout. — Going towards the sea.

Goshawk closed her eyes for a moment, dissipating the sunlight inside the building.

— Then let us return, — she replied.

My Kingdomlocke!

[center][size=7][font=times new roman]Day Three[/font][/size] [size=5][font=calibri][item=Sinew Net] [/font][/size] [font=times new roman][size=5]Roll 1d20: 7 — Quest time![/size][size=4] Pick two dragons at random. They have to go on a quest now. Raise both of them a level. Roll a 6-sided die for each. If it’s a 1, They lose a life or they’re exalted as they were lost in the mission. During Quests, dragons are invincible and cannot die in Coli. Roll 1d3: 3 — Maximo Roll 1d2: 1 — Delver Roll 2d6: 3, 3— Both alive[/size][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Hk7OapP.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/785806/78580537.png[/img][/center][font=calibri][size=4] The efforts of the following day were centered around assessing the damage caused by the Emperor with Maximo, flying across the city (or, more accurately, the ruins of it). So far as Delver was concerned, it ran smoothly — nothing or no one of import was harmed. He returned to the Solicastle at the green dragon's side, landing on the spire before entering as he always did. Maximo, as always, stood at sat at his side like a bodyguard — which Delver was keenly aware to be his actual function. He wondered if the dragon itself realized this, too. Likely not. If he did, he would already have attacked him by now. His power over Goshawk — the dragon who kept the beastclans and dragons inside the city somewhat still peaceful — and thus his control of the city itself [i]was[/i] kept by smoke and mirrors. He thought on all this as he stared the horizon towards the direction in which he arrived. It was on this small moment of the day that he feared to betray his emotions most, needed as it was to remember why he was still here. The moments he hoped that no shade would appear to blemish the peaceful setting sky. He did not even held much care for it. Delver preferred the night. At night, all his natural disadvantages became his power. At night, he was deadly as a plague dragon was supposed to be. He got up and flew forward, making an arch in the sky to enter the collapsed wall of the Solicastle and landing inside his room and landing inside with grace. Maximo followed, giving gravitas to the sound of his master's flight. — Light up the lantern — Delver said, noticing the twilight shadows creeping in as he turned his head down to the text he was reading later. His follower was an expeditious one, and put the lantern in one of the top corners of the pulpit — where it risked slipping down, for the surface had no holdings for one. — Hold it. You have hands — the smaller dragon remarked, staring Maximo with his ruby red eyes until he did a ordered, turning his eyes back to the text. The book was not a particularly involved reading, but actually two lists with dates on top of the pages. He scanned the names. In the very few first pages, there were hundreds of names on both columns — Goshawk and Maximo amongst them. After a short time, the second column were reduced to the same twenty. Not always the same twenty, but some always seemed to be more prevalent, Goshawk's amongst them. The records on the populace he could understand, as they were never identical to one another. But why would they keep listing the name of their leaders, this was beyond his reasoning. The people who lived here before his purge were odd indeed. Delver looked to Maximo, reading the list over his shoulders. — What purpose this serves? — Delver asked. — They were records on the dragons present for the convocations, my lord — he replied. — Had the Eravitians named so many dragons after the same people? — Delver pointed to three instances of "Goshawk" in the second column. — Ah. — Maximo blinked a few times. — I think this is a record of the votes. — Votes? Votes for what? — Delver said, puzzled on what happened in so previsible timeframes that would need the convocation of every single dragon in the city. — The ministers. The ten most appointed names became part of the council — Maximo said. Delver processed the information. — Are you telling me, — he said slowly, digesting every word, — that the rulers of your clan were chosen by [i]popular vote?[/i] — Yes, my lord, — Maximo said, to which Delver broke in a laughter that filled all ten empty seats in the room and echoed in its walls. — For dragons without claws, I guess it should not surprise me that their only weapons remaining are words. Maximo silently nodded.

Gatan

42

July 13, 2022 10:19:24

Day Three

Roll 1d20: 7 — Quest time!
Pick two dragons at random. They have to go on a quest now. Raise both of them a level. Roll a 6-sided die for each. If it’s a 1, They lose a life or they’re exalted as they were lost in the mission.
During Quests, dragons are invincible and cannot die in Coli.

Roll 1d3: 3 — Maximo
Roll 1d2: 1 — Delver

Roll 2d6: 3, 3— Both alive

The efforts of the following day were centered around assessing the damage caused by the Emperor with Maximo, flying across the city (or, more accurately, the ruins of it). So far as Delver was concerned, it ran smoothly — nothing or no one of import was harmed. He returned to the Solicastle at the green dragon's side, landing on the spire before entering as he always did.

Maximo, as always, stood at sat at his side like a bodyguard — which Delver was keenly aware to be his actual function. He wondered if the dragon itself realized this, too. Likely not. If he did, he would already have attacked him by now. His power over Goshawk — the dragon who kept the beastclans and dragons inside the city somewhat still peaceful — and thus his control of the city itself was kept by smoke and mirrors.

He thought on all this as he stared the horizon towards the direction in which he arrived. It was on this small moment of the day that he feared to betray his emotions most, needed as it was to remember why he was still here. The moments he hoped that no shade would appear to blemish the peaceful setting sky. He did not even held much care for it. Delver preferred the night. At night, all his natural disadvantages became his power. At night, he was deadly as a plague dragon was supposed to be.

He got up and flew forward, making an arch in the sky to enter the collapsed wall of the Solicastle and landing inside his room and landing inside with grace. Maximo followed, giving gravitas to the sound of his master's flight.

— Light up the lantern — Delver said, noticing the twilight shadows creeping in as he turned his head down to the text he was reading later.

His follower was an expeditious one, and put the lantern in one of the top corners of the pulpit — where it risked slipping down, for the surface had no holdings for one.

— Hold it. You have hands — the smaller dragon remarked, staring Maximo with his ruby red eyes until he did a ordered, turning his eyes back to the text.

The book was not a particularly involved reading, but actually two lists with dates on top of the pages. He scanned the names. In the very few first pages, there were hundreds of names on both columns — Goshawk and Maximo amongst them. After a short time, the second column were reduced to the same twenty. Not always the same twenty, but some always seemed to be more prevalent, Goshawk's amongst them. The records on the populace he could understand, as they were never identical to one another. But why would they keep listing the name of their leaders, this was beyond his reasoning. The people who lived here before his purge were odd indeed.

Delver looked to Maximo, reading the list over his shoulders.

— What purpose this serves? — Delver asked.

— They were records on the dragons present for the convocations, my lord — he replied.

— Had the Eravitians named so many dragons after the same people? — Delver pointed to three instances of "Goshawk" in the second column.

— Ah. — Maximo blinked a few times. — I think this is a record of the votes.

— Votes? Votes for what? — Delver said, puzzled on what happened in so previsible timeframes that would need the convocation of every single dragon in the city.

— The ministers. The ten most appointed names became part of the council — Maximo said.

Delver processed the information.

— Are you telling me, — he said slowly, digesting every word, — that the rulers of your clan were chosen by popular vote?

— Yes, my lord, — Maximo said, to which Delver broke in a laughter that filled all ten empty seats in the room and echoed in its walls.

— For dragons without claws, I guess it should not surprise me that their only weapons remaining are words.

Maximo silently nodded.

My Kingdomlocke!

[center][size=7][font=times new roman]Day Four[/font][/size] [size=5][font=calibri][item=Cumulus Seal Flipper] [/font][/size] [font=times new roman][size=5]Food: Coliseum time![/size][size=4] Meat: 40-50 matches You must select coliseum challengers in your lair using a random number generator.(If a knight is in your kingdom then any dragons can be selected) Then, select the coliseum arena that corresponds to the lowest level dragon of that group. (If a scout is in your lair then any venue can be selected.) If your dragons level up while in an area, you can still stay there for the whole day. You can quit your battle streak at any time to regain health, and flee from battles if it is appropriate. Results: All dragons to Level 5. Roll for professions — 1d20: Goshawk: 4 — Alchemist - For SCIENCE! can give one dragon one gene or breed change every day. If a dragon receives a gene/breed change they roll a d20. On a 1 the dragon dies in the experiment. If the dragons survive they gain an extra life. You cannot add more than 3 genes to a dragon. You can only change a dragon's breed once. Genes and breeds cannot be changed without an Alchemist. Maximo: 12 — Artist - Paint everywhere! Artists are creative and with the things they make they can help other dragons see their own uniqueness! If a dragon rolls a career another dragon possesses already, the dragon can reroll once. (The worst ones in the list for me, lol) [/size][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Hk7OapP.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/431625/43162483.png[/img][/center][font=calibri][size=4] There were few people who knew of this. As should they, as the dragon did his very best to keep it hidden. Before, it was a glorious hobby — art is the ultimate expression of mind, the Eravitians held in their values, and nothing is a better expression of our peaceful society than it, than peoples that might be killing themselves in other part of Sornieth reuniting themselves to do such an innocuous thing they had in common. Now, Delver would laugh at the idea. Maximo had no great deal of problem with this — he had much thicker skin than Goshawk, he knew — other than that it might be made more difficult to keep pursuing his passion. And so, he did it in secret. In a base-level room in the Solicastle, where you had to enter by foot rather than flight and continue by foot on a corridor to reach. It was designed and built by the beastfolk, and though they adjusted the proportions to allow entrance by the Pearlcatchers when they reached the shore, it was never fully integrated. The corridor was filled by books and scrolls, hapzardly thrown into the floor and pressed under his feet as he entered his solace. The painting room was used before for archiving, but Maximo concluded that they wouldn't use the extensive lists that bothered Delver so much anymore. Still, he couldn't gather to truly destroy them. And thus they wasted at the corridors, making noise when pressed under one's feet. The room itself was of a square format, and rather small by dragon standards. It barely fit him standing, but was still rather comfortable when he was sat on the ground. A collection of particularly inane reports laid on the ground, scattered to protect it from the paint — this part of the Solicastle might never be seen again, but the Pearlcatcher still felt the duty to protect it. The canvas was on the walls — two completed, one painting still in progress, one completely white. Such a pity, to hide this beauty where it likely would not be seen ever more. The first completed painting was merely the Eravitia of old, reflected in the morning sun. The second completed painting was it after Delver's destruction, hiding details in the shadows of night. The second one was made to ease his anxiety, when he still feared that Delver would come and see his work. However, as it was clear he had no interest in investigating every nook and crane of the place (a foolish decision), Maximo felt more comfortable and bold, painting then the first one. The third one, the one in progress, was a good reason for the paintings to be kept away. He could not look at it without starting to tear up. It was the painting of a bright green dragon, accompanied by his mate and hatchlings. Maximo picked up the brush and kept working on it. He had to. Their memory must be shared, even if only to the wind on those forsaken walls.

Gatan

42

July 14, 2022 10:41:27

Day Four

Food: Coliseum time!
Meat: 40-50 matches

You must select coliseum challengers in your lair using a random number generator.(If a knight is in your kingdom then any dragons can be selected) Then, select the coliseum arena that corresponds to the lowest level dragon of that group. (If a scout is in your lair then any venue can be selected.) If your dragons level up while in an area, you can still stay there for the whole day. You can quit your battle streak at any time to regain health, and flee from battles if it is appropriate.

Results: All dragons to Level 5.

Roll for professions — 1d20:

Goshawk: 4 — Alchemist - For SCIENCE!
can give one dragon one gene or breed change every day. If a dragon receives a gene/breed change they roll a d20. On a 1 the dragon dies in the experiment. If the dragons survive they gain an extra life. You cannot add more than 3 genes to a dragon. You can only change a dragon's breed once.
Genes and breeds cannot be changed without an Alchemist.

Maximo: 12 — Artist - Paint everywhere!
Artists are creative and with the things they make they can help other dragons see their own uniqueness! If a dragon rolls a career another dragon possesses already, the dragon can reroll once.

(The worst ones in the list for me, lol)

There were few people who knew of this. As should they, as the dragon did his very best to keep it hidden. Before, it was a glorious hobby — art is the ultimate expression of mind, the Eravitians held in their values, and nothing is a better expression of our peaceful society than it, than peoples that might be killing themselves in other part of Sornieth reuniting themselves to do such an innocuous thing they had in common.

Now, Delver would laugh at the idea. Maximo had no great deal of problem with this — he had much thicker skin than Goshawk, he knew — other than that it might be made more difficult to keep pursuing his passion. And so, he did it in secret. In a base-level room in the Solicastle, where you had to enter by foot rather than flight and continue by foot on a corridor to reach. It was designed and built by the beastfolk, and though they adjusted the proportions to allow entrance by the Pearlcatchers when they reached the shore, it was never fully integrated.

The corridor was filled by books and scrolls, hapzardly thrown into the floor and pressed under his feet as he entered his solace. The painting room was used before for archiving, but Maximo concluded that they wouldn't use the extensive lists that bothered Delver so much anymore. Still, he couldn't gather to truly destroy them. And thus they wasted at the corridors, making noise when pressed under one's feet.

The room itself was of a square format, and rather small by dragon standards. It barely fit him standing, but was still rather comfortable when he was sat on the ground. A collection of particularly inane reports laid on the ground, scattered to protect it from the paint — this part of the Solicastle might never be seen again, but the Pearlcatcher still felt the duty to protect it. The canvas was on the walls — two completed, one painting still in progress, one completely white.

Such a pity, to hide this beauty where it likely would not be seen ever more.

The first completed painting was merely the Eravitia of old, reflected in the morning sun. The second completed painting was it after Delver's destruction, hiding details in the shadows of night. The second one was made to ease his anxiety, when he still feared that Delver would come and see his work. However, as it was clear he had no interest in investigating every nook and crane of the place (a foolish decision), Maximo felt more comfortable and bold, painting then the first one.

The third one, the one in progress, was a good reason for the paintings to be kept away. He could not look at it without starting to tear up.

It was the painting of a bright green dragon, accompanied by his mate and hatchlings.

Maximo picked up the brush and kept working on it. He had to. Their memory must be shared, even if only to the wind on those forsaken walls.

My Kingdomlocke!

[center][size=7][font=times new roman]Day Five[/font][/size] [size=5][font=calibri][item=Tracker Runt] [/font][/size] [font=times new roman][size=5]Food: Coliseum time![/size][size=4] Meat: 40-50 matches You must select coliseum challengers in your lair using a random number generator.(If a knight is in your kingdom then any dragons can be selected) Then, select the coliseum arena that corresponds to the lowest level dragon of that group. (If a scout is in your lair then any venue can be selected.) If your dragons level up while in an area, you can still stay there for the whole day. You can quit your battle streak at any time to regain health, and flee from battles if it is appropriate. Results: All dragons to Level 7 [/size][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Hk7OapP.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/785806/78580537.png[/img][/center][font=calibri][size=4] It was a common day. A busy, inglorious day, yes — but this was the definition of common now. Nearing the sunset, Delver did his daily ritual of watching by enemies that might come in the sea. It was a truly ineffective watch, he knew — if he really was concerned with danger, it would be far more effective to assign shifting posts day and night. But it was not for their physical integrity that Delver watched the horizon every night, oh no. It was for his psychological one. He braced himself, feeling his courage becoming one with the cold wind from the seas. One day, they would search for him — if only another bitter sibling seeking for someone even lesser to humiliate. Since Delver left, he wondered who would be their scapegoat now. Not out of empathy, but of worry. If they grew tired of it, they would search for Delver to bring back. The greatest spectacle his return would be. And, if they did come, he doubted that even Maximo would defend him. He was too keenly aware that, useful as the pawlicker was, his loyalty also followed the stronger person. Delver needed to be ready. To fight or flee, he would discover in the right hour. Yet today, as the swirling winds touched the sands from the shore, it proved to be another calm day. His wandering mind finally set itself at ease, and he wandered back into the Solicastle, silent as the shade he was. Maximo followed, with wings beating loud.

Gatan