Roleplay

6

July 13, 2014 13:29:48

music

Saphyira’s peacock-colored feathers fluttered in the ever constant breeze of the Reedcleft Ascent, her wings lazily tracing the curling updrafts as she slowly spiraled down to a nearby sunning platform made from the plentiful bamboo of the land. As she settled gracefully down, her eyes flickered upwards to see what was now blotting out the sun that she had expected to warm herself with.

Enormous would only begin to describe the mighty and writhing dragon that swirled and twisted down from the highest reaches of the clouds, his shadowy, sinuous length taking half a minute to streak past the delicate Skydancer.

Saphyira reopened her earslits once he had passed, the great and furious wind he brought along with him ruffling her feathers violently. A few sailed away as she peered down from where she lounged to watch the exchange between the massive Imperial and the Clan Matriarch, Diantha. The Fae’s lavender wings flickered in the midday sun, and she perched upon her favorite outcropping of quartz, a gift from the Dragonhome, courtesy of Skysinger.
It stretched about two meters into the air, allowing her to view the reaches of her territory, and give daily directions or guidance if necessary. Important announcements and clan meetings were held here in front of the quartz throne.

Saphyira watched in silence as the poweful Imperial bowed his head, and angled it so it was eye level with the tiny Fae. If Zeltan so much as sneezed, he’d blow Diantha all the way to the Cloudsong.

Saphyira’s lips curled upwards into a smirk at the idea.

Apollo, her father, and the Matriarch’s consort, sat calmly beside the Fae. The Prince, her half brother Jento, stood on the other side of their father, looking at Zeltan with awe. A prince by blood, and by nature as well, even if Siyaki, a mirror, and Diantha’s firstborn, should have been the hier, she declined at sexual maturity.

Jento caught Saphyira’s eye and blinked, a mutual understanding between them to stay quiet as the top council members spoke about what they had taken weeks to prepare.
There was another rush of wind, and the sweet, dewy smell of clouds, the only scent truly unique to the Wind Clan territories.

A streak of white and sky blue spun past, as Skysinger flew down to lay beside Zeltan. The cloud-crackled Imperial hummed softly as Diantha began to speak in her usual drone, matching the pitch Skysinger sung.

The council, save for Sunfire, had arrived. The ice scaled Matriarch flared and fanned her frills as she spoke, her silken magenta robes fluttering in the still stirring wind.
“You have been gathered to be debriefed on our journey. We have prepared for half a moon for this very day.” Her tail curled and uncurled a few times, before the tip gently wrapped around Apollo’s shoulder.

“Zeltan, my Warrior King, you are in fine condition to travel, correct?”

The shadow scaled Imperial’s lightning bright eyes sparked and he shook out his mane.
“Of course, I am always ready for whatever the winds bring, my Liege.” His deep, thundering voice shook the earth slightly. Skysinger changed her humming pitch to match his last word. Diantha turned to her, imitating the note as well.

“And my faithful and kind Songstress, have you prepared the gifts and traveling songs?”

“I have done so, Mistress. The sky will be as Windsinger wishes it: full of beautiful tales sung of his children. The gifts are all packed away in our kite-baskets. They will be most pleasing.” The gorgeous Imperial flicked her whiskers, and resumed humming her last spoken pitch.

Apollo gazed up at his Matriarch. She was also the love of his life, though this was kept mostly between them and the council.

“Apollo, my dear consort, you have sworn to guide my steps and words as we meet our fellow flights, correct?”

“Without fail, I swear, Milady.” He spoke softly, folding his wing closer to her curled tail tip around his shoulder.

“Jento, my prince, you have the duties of Patriarch when I and my party have left, do you understand your responsibility?”

“I do, Mother.”

“Do not let the temptation of adventure sweep your wings from your clan. Stay with them, a sturdy and guiding wind.”

“I shall, Mother.” The dusky winged Skydanced nodded, his snow-white skin shimmering in the bright sunlight.

“And now we wait for Cloudweaver to arrive with the flight route Teorah has divined for us.” Diantha’s voice dwindled into a puff-like sigh, and she lay down on her perch, feet tucked beneath her.

Saphyira let out a small hiss of surprise as Lutio, her to-be mate, settled beside her, giving her crest feathers a preen.

“Big crowd. Two Imperials, huh?” He murmured, knowing to keep his voice low while within range of a public council meeting. “Really think they’ll need that much power for a alliance journey? Or is it intimidation?”

“Three, if Stormdancer shows up.” Saphyira whispered back, plucking away some stray leaves from his crystal studded wings with her beak. She always liked the clicking bell like noises they made when he folded and unfolded them.

“Another Imp? Why would they need three?” He kept up his preening.

“Storm is the most skilled of gale-gliders. She can fly through any kind of storm, no matter how dangerous or violent. Squallcharger’s pretty good too. That’s Skysinger’s son.”

“They’re crossing the Sea of a Thousand Currents?” Lutio sounded alarmed. “But the typhoons this time of year always rip and tear apart the edges of our territory.”

“They’re going to the Everbloom Gardens. Our birthclan has always had good relations with Diantha's.”

“They’re going to see Lady Grovemaker?” The creamy coated Skydancer almost cried out, before Saphyira silenced him with a snap to his jaw.

“Yes. And meet Zeltan’s old clan leader as well. Her name is Fatespeaker. She’s a mighty guardian like Grovemaker.”

“How do you know all of this, Softwing?” Lutio ruffled his crown feathers and gently nuzzled under her chin.

“Because I’m smart, and I listen. With the wind in the right direction, you can hear everything you’d ever want to.” She hissed quietly, her tail curling around his.

“We have many from Grovemaker’s clan. Are any of them coming?”

“No, Diantha’s decided to bring The Council, save Sunfire, and Cloudweaver for navigation. You’re right, though. The clan’s in a tizzy about Grovemaker. Many are excited to get news from her.”

“And what of Fatespeaker?”

“So far, Zeltan’s the only from her clan, but rumor has it that he’s going to try and prove himself somehow.”

“Hmmm….not too much to prove with all that armor and the title “Warrior King.”

“We’ll see.” Saphyira whuffed, and laid her head down, folding her paws under her chin.
—-

Last edited on Jul 13, 2014 17:21:27 by IrisClou

[img]https://38.media.tumblr.com/4a331e8caeebaecf869125cc7e1e7df8/tumblr_n9dybtAFJR1ryiosho1_1280.png[/img] [img]https://38.media.tumblr.com/bfae51715f3f2ffc7a354981add8d4fc/tumblr_n9dybtAFJR1ryiosho2_500.png[/img] [url=http://spicy-noodle.tumblr.com/post/51175179057/boardsofcanadaofficial-reach-for-the-dead][MUSIC][/url] Settled on an expansive, arid plane of storm-filled skies was a small lair, one slowly working its way up to the illuminated metalwork of the Tempest Spire. Their numbers were fairly low, which worked due to the dwindling amount of life-sustaining supplies the land had to give. And it was no secret to the clans prime mover that changes for better or worse had to come; to provide, to quench, and to rejuvenate a spark in the landscape. Yet, what changes [i]could[/i] be made for the health and power of the clan? That, was a question that had been buzzing away at the back of Fatespeakers mind. Recently, communications between clans of Wind and Nature had been made, springing possibilities of alliance in the near future. Alliance is not a simple thing to come by, and required hard work to upkeep and balance if it ever staggered. There were no simple ways to gain it either, which was the fun part. The word of travel to a distant clan of the Everbloom Gardens spread across the clans gossip as soon as the announcement had been made. In a half-moon, the Clan Leader, Fatespeaker, would be taking a decently sized party for the hopes of consortium. Now, it was time for the party to take flight, and make headway towards their destination. Tense storm colored wings stretched high in a signal for those participating to join in a preparation speech. Soon enough, a fire colored fae landed atop the ebony antlers of the storm winged leader known as Fatespeaker. "The day for take-off seemed to arrive quickly," mused the fae, flaring his frills every so often. "Quickly it has, but no matter the length of time, we must be prepared for this." Fatespeaker said in a hushed tone, so that only the fae named Risingmagma could hear. Engaged in quiet, curious tones in the distance were the gathering clan members as they stood back to watch the developing departure. Parting the crowd were the travelers themselves, each making their way towards their leader. Okhan, a wind tundra and respected clan member currently taking up the job as a guard eased himself over first, gave a small head bow in respect to his leader, and sat down. He was beaming, while unconsciously twiddling the prepared gifts pack that had been bestowed unto him to carry. Next, racing his way over as if he was late, was Alnitak, twisting clumsily through the dry air. Using his skilled arcane abilities, he was able to carry extra the amount of scrolls and trinkets. Close behind him were two elegantly striding imperials, they stood side-by-side, their shimmering wings folded back and tail-tips twitching in anticipation. "Greetings, Fatespeaker! I hope you find it alright if I bring some extra blank scrolls in case we want to map the route there and back, navigation is very important when it comes to travel! Also, I brought some extra scrolls we already have, because, well, maybe the clans we'll be meeting will be interested in some new knowledge!" the arcane spiral rambled excitedly, fumbling to hold all of the scrolls at once in his thin arms. Okhan sighed and reached over to assist Alnitak with the parcels of parchment, and placed most of them in his gift pack. The spiral clung to the rest arguing that they were essential for the trip, but thanked the tundra nonetheless. Once the two imperials stepped forward, they dipped their heads in the same respect Okhan did. Fatespeaker returned the favor and smiled slightly. They were very experienced in travel and adventure, and were a notable asset to the clan. Stypandra and Zephyranthes were their names. "We are fully composed and ready for the road ahead, Fatespeaker." spoke Stypandra in her smooth and calm tone. She turned her head to her mate, Zephyranthes, who locked glances for a moment before turning back to their matriarch. "Thank you again for this opportunity to join you." "We promise to bring the best out of your clan." Zephyranthes added. Fatespeaker nodded her head slowly, the power pack on her sides whirring with electric charge. Out of the corner of her cyan eyes, Pasacrea was slinking her way over, grinning under her mask, as usual. "I have a feeling this journey will lead to many outcomes, and most of them seem positive, so...that's something wonderful to hear, correct? Ehehehee...again there is also no need to be wary of the clan while you're gone mother," Pasacrea hissed in a song-like tune. "We'll have everything under control." Risingmagma lifted gently from Fatespeakers antlers and onto his daughters instead. The leader only narrowed her eyes at Pasacrea and reverted it back to the rest of the clan. Standing forward and lifting her gaze across the rest of the members, she raised her voice to a slightly louder volume and spoke, "The results after this expedition will affect the very stance of our clan, and the further we make these steps, the further we are towards a bountiful and innovated domain. We will keep you all updated on our return, and I expect you all to go about as usual in these passing days. Risingmagma will be in charge for the time being, regard his word." The clan members whispered and nodded in agreement. They were anxious too, seeing how this could impact their lives. "May the storms be plentiful, and the thunder sonorous." Then, as if on queue, the party lifted into the sky.

Lightnea

70

July 13, 2014 17:28:18

[MUSIC]

Settled on an expansive, arid plane of storm-filled skies was a small lair, one slowly working its way up to the illuminated metalwork of the Tempest Spire. Their numbers were fairly low, which worked due to the dwindling amount of life-sustaining supplies the land had to give. And it was no secret to the clans prime mover that changes for better or worse had to come; to provide, to quench, and to rejuvenate a spark in the landscape. Yet, what changes could be made for the health and power of the clan? That, was a question that had been buzzing away at the back of Fatespeakers mind.

Recently, communications between clans of Wind and Nature had been made, springing possibilities of alliance in the near future. Alliance is not a simple thing to come by, and required hard work to upkeep and balance if it ever staggered. There were no simple ways to gain it either, which was the fun part.

The word of travel to a distant clan of the Everbloom Gardens spread across the clans gossip as soon as the announcement had been made. In a half-moon, the Clan Leader, Fatespeaker, would be taking a decently sized party for the hopes of consortium. Now, it was time for the party to take flight, and make headway towards their destination.

Tense storm colored wings stretched high in a signal for those participating to join in a preparation speech. Soon enough, a fire colored fae landed atop the ebony antlers of the storm winged leader known as Fatespeaker.

"The day for take-off seemed to arrive quickly," mused the fae, flaring his frills every so often.

"Quickly it has, but no matter the length of time, we must be prepared for this." Fatespeaker said in a hushed tone, so that only the fae named Risingmagma could hear.

Engaged in quiet, curious tones in the distance were the gathering clan members as they stood back to watch the developing departure. Parting the crowd were the travelers themselves, each making their way towards their leader.

Okhan, a wind tundra and respected clan member currently taking up the job as a guard eased himself over first, gave a small head bow in respect to his leader, and sat down. He was beaming, while unconsciously twiddling the prepared gifts pack that had been bestowed unto him to carry.

Next, racing his way over as if he was late, was Alnitak, twisting clumsily through the dry air. Using his skilled arcane abilities, he was able to carry extra the amount of scrolls and trinkets. Close behind him were two elegantly striding imperials, they stood side-by-side, their shimmering wings folded back and tail-tips twitching in anticipation.

"Greetings, Fatespeaker! I hope you find it alright if I bring some extra blank scrolls in case we want to map the route there and back, navigation is very important when it comes to travel! Also, I brought some extra scrolls we already have, because, well, maybe the clans we'll be meeting will be interested in some new knowledge!" the arcane spiral rambled excitedly, fumbling to hold all of the scrolls at once in his thin arms.

Okhan sighed and reached over to assist Alnitak with the parcels of parchment, and placed most of them in his gift pack. The spiral clung to the rest arguing that they were essential for the trip, but thanked the tundra nonetheless.

Once the two imperials stepped forward, they dipped their heads in the same respect Okhan did. Fatespeaker returned the favor and smiled slightly. They were very experienced in travel and adventure, and were a notable asset to the clan. Stypandra and Zephyranthes were their names.

"We are fully composed and ready for the road ahead, Fatespeaker." spoke Stypandra in her smooth and calm tone. She turned her head to her mate, Zephyranthes, who locked glances for a moment before turning back to their matriarch. "Thank you again for this opportunity to join you."

"We promise to bring the best out of your clan." Zephyranthes added.

Fatespeaker nodded her head slowly, the power pack on her sides whirring with electric charge. Out of the corner of her cyan eyes, Pasacrea was slinking her way over, grinning under her mask, as usual.

"I have a feeling this journey will lead to many outcomes, and most of them seem positive, so...that's something wonderful to hear, correct? Ehehehee...again there is also no need to be wary of the clan while you're gone mother," Pasacrea hissed in a song-like tune. "We'll have everything under control."

Risingmagma lifted gently from Fatespeakers antlers and onto his daughters instead. The leader only narrowed her eyes at Pasacrea and reverted it back to the rest of the clan. Standing forward and lifting her gaze across the rest of the members, she raised her voice to a slightly louder volume and spoke, "The results after this expedition will affect the very stance of our clan, and the further we make these steps, the further we are towards a bountiful and innovated domain. We will keep you all updated on our return, and I expect you all to go about as usual in these passing days. Risingmagma will be in charge for the time being, regard his word."

The clan members whispered and nodded in agreement. They were anxious too, seeing how this could impact their lives.

"May the storms be plentiful, and the thunder sonorous."

Then, as if on queue, the party lifted into the sky.

we_rode_on_the_winds_of_the_rising_storm_by_c_yang-d68stu4.gif

Last edited on Jul 27, 2014 12:34:20 by Lightnea

[img]https://31.media.tumblr.com/d70eef76e23eae8722d0ee3a545137c1/tumblr_n8oe801aZy1tbpkk1o3_1280.png[/img] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3855833] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/38559/3855833_350.png[/img] [/url] [b] [url=http://grooveshark.com/#!/s/Sinking+Friendships/53lCFL?src=5][music][/url][/b] As the clouds passed over the sun and continued their path along the wind, the entire clan began to gather around the Amethyst Throne, where Diantha sat. Dragons of all shapes, breeds, sizes, and colors slowly made their way to their Matriarch, keeping a gracious distance, however, from her inner council. Cloudweaver, one of the smallest, but most agile of all the dragons in the clan, spun and snaked on the bouyant puffs of air towards Diantha. "Ma'am, " She squeaked, "The maps are ready, and the flight path has been decided." Her striped head kept still, focused on her leader, but the rest of her body swirled and fidgeted amongst the wind. "Then, let us ready the final preparations, my friends." Diantha's frills flew up, and she spread her wings, letting the wind whip past her in agreement. A grand cheer rose from the crowd as the wind rushed past them as well. Apollo smiled, feeling the breeze ruffle and smooth his feathers, and the mighty Imperials lifted their great heads to feel the wind swirl through the branches of their horns. "Fortune of the Windsinger smiles upon us!" Cried Diantha, "He will guide our wingbeats along with the beats of our hearts, praise him, O Mighty Windsinger!" Another great din erupted from the clan, various praises being sung to their deity. "Our kind will be blessed with peaceful union of our sister clans!" Diantha's voice was helped by Skysinger, who lifted up her own voice to sing her Matriarch's words for the rest of the clan to hear. "Let this journey be fruitful, with many new friends and comrades!" The crackled Imperial sung loudly, "A gathering of dragons like no other!" "Remembered for the ages!" Her son called back, "Let this gathering bring peace between flights, strong warriors united in the pursuit of good will and prosperity!" Squallcharger let out a mighty roar. He was proud to be the son of one of the High Council of the clan. He hoped his words would spur his mother on. The small group of Seers huddled near the back of the throng, each stroking and gazing into their pearls, mumbling as they watched over the future flight of their chosen travelers. "Let the Windsinger guide our pearls to show us visions of truth, so we may keep an ever watchful eye on your journey." They spoke in unison, eyes glinting at the reflection of the swirling, misty orbs they held in their paws. "Let the spirits of the Tangled Wood not trick and confuse, but rather unfold a safe path for you." Sunfire, the resident shaman, strode from the den, her ruby red robe fluttering in the breeze. "It will be a perilous and difficult journey. Over waves and wastelands you will have to go, through storms and shadow, you must prevail." With a mighty wingburst, she propelled herself into the air, above Diantha. "The spirits have told me that the ones you will meet will be strong, wise, and eager to find prosperity for their own clans. Keep an open mind, listen closely to their words, and work with them to further goodwill between flights." With that, a bright sparking flame was seen, followed by a dark mist that quickly dissipated in the swift breeze. The shaman had gone. The crowd now mumbled, a constant thrum of voices, excited, skeptical, and everything in between. Would the clans they were to meet be a good choice? Or would it end in turmoil? "Matriarch!" A deep, wavering voice cried out, and a deep blue striped Imperial rose above the throng, followed by a ocean colored Tundra, and a stocky, shimmering teal Snapper. "We wish to join this journey." The Tundra said, her voice bursting with excitement. "We all three come from the tides of the Sea of a Thousand Currents." Shoalprancer, the Snapper added slowly. "We have seen the squalls and typhoons that rush to meet poor dragons, and snatch them up to their deaths." The Imperial named Stormcatcher said quietly. "Our knowledge would surely help with the journey!" Waveglider, the silky Tundra finished. Diantha curled her neck downward to see the newcomers. Brash, bold, adventurous were the Sea Trio, as they were called. A band of females that had been inseparable friends since they were hatchlings, fresh to the Zephyr Steppes. "This journey is harrowing. We may not all come back. Do you understand?" Diantha spoke gravely. She had been very fond of the triplets since they were babies. Soon, she expected them to split from the rest of the clan, and make one of their own. But they seemed too rooted to the clan that had taken them in. Two had even taken mates, and one of their offspring lived in the clan. "The storms this time of year are deadly, but we are strong, and know our way around them." Stormdancer reassured her. Diantha kept silent, her flourite eyes flickering from one young dragon to the next. "Take them." Zeltan rumbled, fondly headbutting Stormdancer, his old apprentice. "Stormdancer is the best flier in the entire clan, we all know that. She has made her mentor proud. It is time she make her Matriarch, her Flight, proud." "And Waveglider and Shoalprancer are easily the most resourceful of our members." Apollo chimed in. "The experience of meeting new clans is a once in a lifetime event for some. They need this." Diantha's tail curled and uncurled three times as she thought. "Prepare yourselves immediately. We leave by shoot-song." With a whoop and a holler the three she-drakes took off to quickly grab what they needed in their dens. -- As the wind streamed through the holes bored through the bamboo walls that covered the very outskirts of the Cloudbow territory, the great whistling was heard, and the sound ebbed and flowed as the wind swept across the land. The clan had now gathered at the very tip of the highest cliff in the territory, to watch their Matriarch and her companions take flight. "Blessings be upon your journey, Mother." Jento purred quietly, giving his mother a loving nuzzle. She returned the favor, her tiny claws stroking his crown. "Be proud, swift as the winds. I will return, my dearest." "We wish for your safe return, Mother!" Siyaki cried, sitting beside Daergos, her father. "I bid you all a grateful farewell. When the Windsinger guides me back to you, I will have brought with me tidings of great joy and fortune. Farewell, my own, farewell!" And with a final, hoarse cry, Diantha climbed atop Zeltan's great head, nestling between his twisted horns. The mighty Imperial let out a deafening roar, a roar that was heard for miles, carried by the wind and to the heavens, where Windsinger looked down upon his children, wishing them nothing but luck on their journey. As a Fae, Skydancer, Spiral, Tundra, Snapper, and three Imperials soared into the air, the wind gusted powerfully through the crowd, and they added their voices to the great Windsinger's spurring on their representatives. The Journey had begun.

IrisClou

6

July 13, 2014 19:01:38

[music]

As the clouds passed over the sun and continued their path along the wind, the entire clan began to gather around the Amethyst Throne, where Diantha sat. Dragons of all shapes, breeds, sizes, and colors slowly made their way to their Matriarch, keeping a gracious distance, however, from her inner council.

Cloudweaver, one of the smallest, but most agile of all the dragons in the clan, spun and snaked on the bouyant puffs of air towards Diantha.

"Ma'am, " She squeaked, "The maps are ready, and the flight path has been decided." Her striped head kept still, focused on her leader, but the rest of her body swirled and fidgeted amongst the wind.

"Then, let us ready the final preparations, my friends." Diantha's frills flew up, and she spread her wings, letting the wind whip past her in agreement.

A grand cheer rose from the crowd as the wind rushed past them as well.
Apollo smiled, feeling the breeze ruffle and smooth his feathers, and the mighty Imperials lifted their great heads to feel the wind swirl through the branches of their horns.

"Fortune of the Windsinger smiles upon us!" Cried Diantha, "He will guide our wingbeats along with the beats of our hearts, praise him, O Mighty Windsinger!"

Another great din erupted from the clan, various praises being sung to their deity.

"Our kind will be blessed with peaceful union of our sister clans!" Diantha's voice was helped by Skysinger, who lifted up her own voice to sing her Matriarch's words for the rest of the clan to hear.

"Let this journey be fruitful, with many new friends and comrades!" The crackled Imperial sung loudly, "A gathering of dragons like no other!"

"Remembered for the ages!" Her son called back, "Let this gathering bring peace between flights, strong warriors united in the pursuit of good will and prosperity!" Squallcharger let out a mighty roar. He was proud to be the son of one of the High Council of the clan. He hoped his words would spur his mother on.

The small group of Seers huddled near the back of the throng, each stroking and gazing into their pearls, mumbling as they watched over the future flight of their chosen travelers.

"Let the Windsinger guide our pearls to show us visions of truth, so we may keep an ever watchful eye on your journey." They spoke in unison, eyes glinting at the reflection of the swirling, misty orbs they held in their paws.

"Let the spirits of the Tangled Wood not trick and confuse, but rather unfold a safe path for you." Sunfire, the resident shaman, strode from the den, her ruby red robe fluttering in the breeze. "It will be a perilous and difficult journey. Over waves and wastelands you will have to go, through storms and shadow, you must prevail." With a mighty wingburst, she propelled herself into the air, above Diantha.

"The spirits have told me that the ones you will meet will be strong, wise, and eager to find prosperity for their own clans. Keep an open mind, listen closely to their words, and work with them to further goodwill between flights."

With that, a bright sparking flame was seen, followed by a dark mist that quickly dissipated in the swift breeze. The shaman had gone.

The crowd now mumbled, a constant thrum of voices, excited, skeptical, and everything in between. Would the clans they were to meet be a good choice? Or would it end in turmoil?

"Matriarch!" A deep, wavering voice cried out, and a deep blue striped Imperial rose above the throng, followed by a ocean colored Tundra, and a stocky, shimmering teal Snapper. "We wish to join this journey." The Tundra said, her voice bursting with excitement. "We all three come from the tides of the Sea of a Thousand Currents." Shoalprancer, the Snapper added slowly. "We have seen the squalls and typhoons that rush to meet poor dragons, and snatch them up to their deaths." The Imperial named Stormcatcher said quietly. "Our knowledge would surely help with the journey!" Waveglider, the silky Tundra finished.

Diantha curled her neck downward to see the newcomers. Brash, bold, adventurous were the Sea Trio, as they were called. A band of females that had been inseparable friends since they were hatchlings, fresh to the Zephyr Steppes.

"This journey is harrowing. We may not all come back. Do you understand?" Diantha spoke gravely. She had been very fond of the triplets since they were babies. Soon, she expected them to split from the rest of the clan, and make one of their own. But they seemed too rooted to the clan that had taken them in. Two had even taken mates, and one of their offspring lived in the clan.

"The storms this time of year are deadly, but we are strong, and know our way around them." Stormdancer reassured her.

Diantha kept silent, her flourite eyes flickering from one young dragon to the next.

"Take them." Zeltan rumbled, fondly headbutting Stormdancer, his old apprentice. "Stormdancer is the best flier in the entire clan, we all know that. She has made her mentor proud. It is time she make her Matriarch, her Flight, proud."

"And Waveglider and Shoalprancer are easily the most resourceful of our members." Apollo chimed in. "The experience of meeting new clans is a once in a lifetime event for some. They need this."

Diantha's tail curled and uncurled three times as she thought.

"Prepare yourselves immediately. We leave by shoot-song."

With a whoop and a holler the three she-drakes took off to quickly grab what they needed in their dens.
--
As the wind streamed through the holes bored through the bamboo walls that covered the very outskirts of the Cloudbow territory, the great whistling was heard, and the sound ebbed and flowed as the wind swept across the land.

The clan had now gathered at the very tip of the highest cliff in the territory, to watch their Matriarch and her companions take flight.

"Blessings be upon your journey, Mother." Jento purred quietly, giving his mother a loving nuzzle. She returned the favor, her tiny claws stroking his crown. "Be proud, swift as the winds. I will return, my dearest."

"We wish for your safe return, Mother!" Siyaki cried, sitting beside Daergos, her father.

"I bid you all a grateful farewell. When the Windsinger guides me back to you, I will have brought with me tidings of great joy and fortune. Farewell, my own, farewell!"

And with a final, hoarse cry, Diantha climbed atop Zeltan's great head, nestling between his twisted horns. The mighty Imperial let out a deafening roar, a roar that was heard for miles, carried by the wind and to the heavens, where Windsinger looked down upon his children, wishing them nothing but luck on their journey.

As a Fae, Skydancer, Spiral, Tundra, Snapper, and three Imperials soared into the air, the wind gusted powerfully through the crowd, and they added their voices to the great Windsinger's spurring on their representatives.

The Journey had begun.

Last edited on Jul 13, 2014 19:08:06 by IrisClou

[MUSIC]

Soaring through massive super-cells, dancing between raging thunderclouds, and racing with lightning was a simple pastime a clan in the Shifting Expanse could enjoy. Voyaging out of it, was another topic. Only the most advanced navigators and fliers would be able to make sense out of the barren landscape that the Highland Scrub offered. It seemed to repeat for miles, the same dull pattern of uneven parched mesas, matched with the occasional string of tangled wires sprawled over the ground like dark webs. The Lightning Flight was an ingenious industry of electric ingenuity, which was the one thing that made up for the inhospitable desert the flight called home.

Above the bands heads, thunder boomed and reverberated through their hearts. Okhan and the imperials fur prickled with static, rippling in waves with the storm winds. They were not born of lightning, but found with practice the flight through squalls and cyclones was a crucial prowess if one was to dwell within these boundaries. Plus, it was simply an exhilarating experience! Not every dragon can say they've dived towards the earth with super-heated voltage streaming behind their wings. Dangerous? Very. Extraordinary? Incredibly.

Matching with the currents whipping force, Alnitak writhed ungainly while making observations of the ground below. "It would appear that the most efficient route is going to be around the eastern coast of the Sunbeam Ruins, we'll be able to pass by The Beacon of the Radiant Eye, the Lightweaver herself waits there for travelling dragons such as ourselves!" the spiral hollered over the rumbling of the clouds. "Passing over the sea should be an easier task, compared to flying straight into other clan territory. Though, it would be interesting to stop by a Light Clan or two..."

Fatespeaker blinked, and curved around a small fizzing cumulus. Tendrils of charged particles reached out towards her body, looking as if it was desperately trying to hold onto her limbs as she whisked past. "The plan will remain following these thunderclouds out towards the sea from where they came. We do not wish to make hostilities with any Light Clans on the way."

The group nodded in unison.

In a swift movement, Fatespeaker lifted her head and disappeared into the dark clouds above. The rest followed pursuit, pushing through pulling forces within the shadowy wisp. Zephyranthes brushed his tail against the tip of Stypandras wing, an indicator to keep moving forward.

After a breath holding minute of battling through the scale-raising thundercloud, the sky opened up above to reveal a wide, spanning, tumbling view of the anvil. Overshooting tops of churning vapor spouted from the towering storm, the dragons shadows flickering atop its expansive surface. Flashes of lightning pulsed beneath gliding wings and brought pounding thunderclaps that wavered the very atmosphere it cut through.

Okhan laughed triumphantly, skimming the clawed tips of his wings against the shadowed cloud. "It's always struck me that the sky in this Flight is more alive than the terrain!" he seemed to sing, his voice parallel to the thunders melody.

Stypandra was next to share the awe of the moment; using her leathery caribbean colored wings she propelled forward and spun with the domes of the cloud top until the droplets trailed with her shimmering form.

Fatespeaker dipped back down into the turbulent shelter of the cumulonimbus. A second later, she burst back from it, the flashing of her powerpack matching with the color of the lightning she carried up with her, illuminating the flight path ahead.

Above the storm clouds, the group of dragons sailed their way to what could be the spark to a promising future.

Lightnea

70

July 14, 2014 12:14:33

[MUSIC]

Soaring through massive super-cells, dancing between raging thunderclouds, and racing with lightning was a simple pastime a clan in the Shifting Expanse could enjoy. Voyaging out of it, was another topic. Only the most advanced navigators and fliers would be able to make sense out of the barren landscape that the Highland Scrub offered. It seemed to repeat for miles, the same dull pattern of uneven parched mesas, matched with the occasional string of tangled wires sprawled over the ground like dark webs. The Lightning Flight was an ingenious industry of electric ingenuity, which was the one thing that made up for the inhospitable desert the flight called home.

Above the bands heads, thunder boomed and reverberated through their hearts. Okhan and the imperials fur prickled with static, rippling in waves with the storm winds. They were not born of lightning, but found with practice the flight through squalls and cyclones was a crucial prowess if one was to dwell within these boundaries. Plus, it was simply an exhilarating experience! Not every dragon can say they've dived towards the earth with super-heated voltage streaming behind their wings. Dangerous? Very. Extraordinary? Incredibly.

Matching with the currents whipping force, Alnitak writhed ungainly while making observations of the ground below. "It would appear that the most efficient route is going to be around the eastern coast of the Sunbeam Ruins, we'll be able to pass by The Beacon of the Radiant Eye, the Lightweaver herself waits there for travelling dragons such as ourselves!" the spiral hollered over the rumbling of the clouds. "Passing over the sea should be an easier task, compared to flying straight into other clan territory. Though, it would be interesting to stop by a Light Clan or two..."

Fatespeaker blinked, and curved around a small fizzing cumulus. Tendrils of charged particles reached out towards her body, looking as if it was desperately trying to hold onto her limbs as she whisked past. "The plan will remain following these thunderclouds out towards the sea from where they came. We do not wish to make hostilities with any Light Clans on the way."

The group nodded in unison.

In a swift movement, Fatespeaker lifted her head and disappeared into the dark clouds above. The rest followed pursuit, pushing through pulling forces within the shadowy wisp. Zephyranthes brushed his tail against the tip of Stypandras wing, an indicator to keep moving forward.

After a breath holding minute of battling through the scale-raising thundercloud, the sky opened up above to reveal a wide, spanning, tumbling view of the anvil. Overshooting tops of churning vapor spouted from the towering storm, the dragons shadows flickering atop its expansive surface. Flashes of lightning pulsed beneath gliding wings and brought pounding thunderclaps that wavered the very atmosphere it cut through.

Okhan laughed triumphantly, skimming the clawed tips of his wings against the shadowed cloud. "It's always struck me that the sky in this Flight is more alive than the terrain!" he seemed to sing, his voice parallel to the thunders melody.

Stypandra was next to share the awe of the moment; using her leathery caribbean colored wings she propelled forward and spun with the domes of the cloud top until the droplets trailed with her shimmering form.

Fatespeaker dipped back down into the turbulent shelter of the cumulonimbus. A second later, she burst back from it, the flashing of her powerpack matching with the color of the lightning she carried up with her, illuminating the flight path ahead.

Above the storm clouds, the group of dragons sailed their way to what could be the spark to a promising future.

[music]

The eternal sky above them was a deep, endless blue; stretching on for as far as the eye could see. The air about them was calm, silent. As they rose further and further up, they brushed their wings past the only clouds in the sky, faint fox wisps that blanketed strips of the wind, barely anything more than mist. All that could be heard was the muffled flaps of the Imperials’ massive leathery wings, and the whipping of the kite baskets that they pulled.

The Heaven’s River was in sight, an almost visible stream of wind that pulsed and flowed with an unfathomable power that was what the dragons of the Windflight believed was the remnants of Windsinger’s original path he took to settle the lands below. It coursed smoothly above them, a tunnel of wind that wound all across the earth.

But the Heaven’s River wasn’t necessarily a benevolent force of nature. It was fueled by the deadly Twisting Crescendo, the timeless and fearsome storm that violently raged to the southwest. It wasn’t uncommon that this current was called the Spirit Tunnel, as the winds that rushed through could cause such traumatic experiences for dragons unskilled in the ways of the stream, making visions of their ancestors through panicked tunnel vision a common occurrence. It also had been given the name “Tumblebones” due to the unfortunate dragons that never made it out of the current, their remains still jostled about inside.

Large dragons such as Imperials, Ridgebacks, and Guardians, didn’t have much trouble entering and exiting the River. However, smaller dragons like Faes and Spirals could be ripped to shreds instantly if they did not take care to enter carefully.

“Current in about 10 meters, Ma’am!” Cloudweaver cried, moving so she could bury herself in the safety between Skysinger’s horns, bracing herself for impact. Diantha did the same, flattening her body down against Zeltan’s skull. Shoalprancer clung to Stormdancer’s back, digging her stony claws into the thick scales of her friend.
“Brace yourselves!” Zeltan bellowed, creating behind him a still eddy of wind for the lesser dragons to fly through as the Imperials breached the racing current.

They were sucked in, and like eels, frantically writhed about to right themselves. Soon, they were being pulled along the stream, all eight of the dragons safely encased in the wind tunnel. With the breath of Windsinger himself behind their backs, their journey would be much quicker.

“Packs are safe, Mistress!” Skysinger called, the kitegifts strung to her tail whipping about a bit before settling, occasionally being buffeted by the wind.

“We just head this course until we reach the Shadowlands.” Cloudweaver trilled.

But a storm loomed ominously in the distance, black curling clouds from across the ocean, causing the shimmering blue ocean ahead of them to boil and bubble.
The size and shape of the storm, the massive wall cloud that spun powerfully and slowly made it obvious to what it was.

“Hurricane.” Stormdancer whispered.

IrisClou

6

July 14, 2014 14:38:19

[music]

The eternal sky above them was a deep, endless blue; stretching on for as far as the eye could see. The air about them was calm, silent. As they rose further and further up, they brushed their wings past the only clouds in the sky, faint fox wisps that blanketed strips of the wind, barely anything more than mist. All that could be heard was the muffled flaps of the Imperials’ massive leathery wings, and the whipping of the kite baskets that they pulled.

The Heaven’s River was in sight, an almost visible stream of wind that pulsed and flowed with an unfathomable power that was what the dragons of the Windflight believed was the remnants of Windsinger’s original path he took to settle the lands below. It coursed smoothly above them, a tunnel of wind that wound all across the earth.

But the Heaven’s River wasn’t necessarily a benevolent force of nature. It was fueled by the deadly Twisting Crescendo, the timeless and fearsome storm that violently raged to the southwest. It wasn’t uncommon that this current was called the Spirit Tunnel, as the winds that rushed through could cause such traumatic experiences for dragons unskilled in the ways of the stream, making visions of their ancestors through panicked tunnel vision a common occurrence. It also had been given the name “Tumblebones” due to the unfortunate dragons that never made it out of the current, their remains still jostled about inside.

Large dragons such as Imperials, Ridgebacks, and Guardians, didn’t have much trouble entering and exiting the River. However, smaller dragons like Faes and Spirals could be ripped to shreds instantly if they did not take care to enter carefully.

“Current in about 10 meters, Ma’am!” Cloudweaver cried, moving so she could bury herself in the safety between Skysinger’s horns, bracing herself for impact. Diantha did the same, flattening her body down against Zeltan’s skull. Shoalprancer clung to Stormdancer’s back, digging her stony claws into the thick scales of her friend.
“Brace yourselves!” Zeltan bellowed, creating behind him a still eddy of wind for the lesser dragons to fly through as the Imperials breached the racing current.

They were sucked in, and like eels, frantically writhed about to right themselves. Soon, they were being pulled along the stream, all eight of the dragons safely encased in the wind tunnel. With the breath of Windsinger himself behind their backs, their journey would be much quicker.

“Packs are safe, Mistress!” Skysinger called, the kitegifts strung to her tail whipping about a bit before settling, occasionally being buffeted by the wind.

“We just head this course until we reach the Shadowlands.” Cloudweaver trilled.

But a storm loomed ominously in the distance, black curling clouds from across the ocean, causing the shimmering blue ocean ahead of them to boil and bubble.
The size and shape of the storm, the massive wall cloud that spun powerfully and slowly made it obvious to what it was.

“Hurricane.” Stormdancer whispered.

Last edited on Jul 14, 2014 19:21:34 by IrisClou

[MUSIC]

Still within the behemoth thundercloud, the band was swerving along the now wing-shredding currents. Fatespeaker didn't waste energy yelling over the shrieking gales, and instead motioned a typical head flick gesture towards each of the dragons to be cautious of where they flew. The downside to flying above the anvil was the lack of sight below. But it was only a little longer, Fatespeaker knew, before it was time to go under again. After flying through the Shifting Expanse for so long, it became second nature to be able to tell how long it would take to make it towards the north-eastern edge of the territory.

The larger dragons took to the front of the party, and lifted in unison whenever an overshooting top bubbled towards them. Not the smoothest sailing, but with a storm like this, there was nothing smoother.

It had been a good two shadow shifts before it was time to dip below the clouds once again. The storm had become much more calm in the passing time gliding to the sea, so diving through the clouds was much more effortless. Below them in plain view was the edge of the Shifting Expanse meeting with the Sunbeam Ruins in a steep climb. Up ahead, beyond the tumbled ruins was a sparkling blue river delta.

In the Light Flight the sky was open and clear, the sun shining on the glimmering land. The wings of the party relaxed, and drifted into a curve around the joining territories.

Alnitak chirped happily, "Looks like we're one third of the way there already!"

Lightnea

70

July 24, 2014 10:10:18

[MUSIC]

Still within the behemoth thundercloud, the band was swerving along the now wing-shredding currents. Fatespeaker didn't waste energy yelling over the shrieking gales, and instead motioned a typical head flick gesture towards each of the dragons to be cautious of where they flew. The downside to flying above the anvil was the lack of sight below. But it was only a little longer, Fatespeaker knew, before it was time to go under again. After flying through the Shifting Expanse for so long, it became second nature to be able to tell how long it would take to make it towards the north-eastern edge of the territory.

The larger dragons took to the front of the party, and lifted in unison whenever an overshooting top bubbled towards them. Not the smoothest sailing, but with a storm like this, there was nothing smoother.

It had been a good two shadow shifts before it was time to dip below the clouds once again. The storm had become much more calm in the passing time gliding to the sea, so diving through the clouds was much more effortless. Below them in plain view was the edge of the Shifting Expanse meeting with the Sunbeam Ruins in a steep climb. Up ahead, beyond the tumbled ruins was a sparkling blue river delta.

In the Light Flight the sky was open and clear, the sun shining on the glimmering land. The wings of the party relaxed, and drifted into a curve around the joining territories.

Alnitak chirped happily, "Looks like we're one third of the way there already!"

The whistling breeze gently swayed the leaves of the verdant forest, carrying the calm scents of the familiar grounds, with the sun beams shining paths along the woodland floor. Peace was as always, despite the busily moving bodies of the clan. Preparations were in order, and the clan's matriarch would see to it that everything that needed done would be done.

Her hulking form - although certainly not the largest of the clan - made its way around, nearly blended in with the shadows, checking up on those she deemed in charge.

The representatives of the other flights held no power over any other dragon in the clan, but instead gave their advice and opinions to Grovemaker. The better of the clan was always held at the top of the list, and this upcoming event would surely make a better living for, not just their clan, but two other clans as well.

Her neck inclined towards a small pearlcatcher, whose white scales glimmered with the dancing light falling through the cracks in the canopy. She was scritching away with a feather pen, frequently glancing at hand-drawn maps and the like that surrounded her. Grovemaker stepped over, years of having walked on forest grounds making her steps almost silent, which was quite the feat for such a large dragon. Stopping behind the pearlcatcher, she watched for a few moments, the smaller dragon completely zoned out from the bustling noise and communing of the clan.

"So how long have you estimated their arrival, Ijoma?" Grovemaker rumbled, not startling Ijoma in the slightest. Her gazed shifted between the papers and scrolls scattered around, peering at the scribbling that the small dragon made as she took notes.

There was a pause as Ijoma finished writing down a note, carefully setting down the pen before raising her head from her work to address the matriarch.

"Oh yes, yes. Let's see here..." papers ruffled while she shuffled through them, "Ah! Right. Look here." With a quiet sniff she presented her work to Grovemaker, who took it with a careful claw, staring at it with interest.

"There is, of course, one or two flight territories they must cross through," Ijoma went on. "That should cause no problems, as long as they keep on course as assumed. Their courses will get them here on due time, all on account of any problems that may spring up. Diantha's clan must cross through Shadow land, but, well you know, they tend to just stick to the shadows."

"I understand," Grovemaker spoke, mostly to herself. She was silent for another several minutes, until she handed the map back to Ijoma, bowing her head lightly in gratitude. "Thank you Ijoma." She looked around at the other dragons. "We will be ready for them shortly. Now, I will be on my way to inquire the representatives, if you do not mind."

"Oh, oh! Surely not, Grovemaker. My studying here is just about done." Ijoma offered her a smile, her mind already going elsewhere, and watched her matriarch take her leave.

Some of the representatives had gathered amongst themselves, bickering back and forth. Malphas, the Shadow representative, was the largest, being one of few Ridgebacks in the Nature clan, and his black hide stuck out among the other, more lightly colored peers. His booming voice was the most frequent Grovemaker could hear out of the conversation and it didn't surprise her in the slightest.

"Hail!" she greeted as she strode over to them, quieting even Malphas as the dragons turned their heads to her direction. "What is all this about?"

"Grovemaker! I can't believe you allow this..this heathen to speak around here!" Aither, a Spiral and the Wind representative, cried out as she approached. His spindly body was ridged with agitation.

"I have a right, just as much as you do," Malphas' sneering voice retorted with an unnerving calm. Aither merely glared at him, unable to form a response, his cheeks puckered as he searched for words.

"Well....well..! You're ridiculous! Why would we not offer our guests a share of food?! Grovemaker, please tell me we wouldn't be so rude!"

Grovemaker glanced between the two, taking in their expressions - Aither, flustered and aggravated, and Malphas, calm and calculating.

"What do you have to say?" she queried, eying down - or up - the Shadow dragon.

"I have spoken with Dhumavati on the matter," Malphas began, his head raised in a knowing air. "And she agrees with me; the guests should hunt and provide for themselves. We must work enough for ourselves, so why should we create even more work?"

"Because they're our guests," Aither hissed before Grovemaker silenced him with a raise of her hand.

"Malphas, it is true that we already have enough to do, however, our land is bountiful, and Aither is correct. They are our guests. We will treat them as our own, if not better."

The ground seemed to tremble with the matriarch's final sentence, and she could see in Malphas' eyes that he had gotten the picture. He said nothing more as he brushed past the others, intentionally staring Aither down as he went by. The Spiral shrunk under his gaze, and soon after he left, he sprung up, his wings guiding him up onto Grovemaker's neck, curling himself securely around it.

"Thank you," he said nervously, hitching a ride.

"Not to worry, Aither." Grovemaker chuckled with a low chuff. "Come now, let us set up where our guests shall sleep."

Solair

305

97

445

5

August 10, 2014 19:13:52

The whistling breeze gently swayed the leaves of the verdant forest, carrying the calm scents of the familiar grounds, with the sun beams shining paths along the woodland floor. Peace was as always, despite the busily moving bodies of the clan. Preparations were in order, and the clan's matriarch would see to it that everything that needed done would be done.

Her hulking form - although certainly not the largest of the clan - made its way around, nearly blended in with the shadows, checking up on those she deemed in charge.

The representatives of the other flights held no power over any other dragon in the clan, but instead gave their advice and opinions to Grovemaker. The better of the clan was always held at the top of the list, and this upcoming event would surely make a better living for, not just their clan, but two other clans as well.

Her neck inclined towards a small pearlcatcher, whose white scales glimmered with the dancing light falling through the cracks in the canopy. She was scritching away with a feather pen, frequently glancing at hand-drawn maps and the like that surrounded her. Grovemaker stepped over, years of having walked on forest grounds making her steps almost silent, which was quite the feat for such a large dragon. Stopping behind the pearlcatcher, she watched for a few moments, the smaller dragon completely zoned out from the bustling noise and communing of the clan.

"So how long have you estimated their arrival, Ijoma?" Grovemaker rumbled, not startling Ijoma in the slightest. Her gazed shifted between the papers and scrolls scattered around, peering at the scribbling that the small dragon made as she took notes.

There was a pause as Ijoma finished writing down a note, carefully setting down the pen before raising her head from her work to address the matriarch.

"Oh yes, yes. Let's see here..." papers ruffled while she shuffled through them, "Ah! Right. Look here." With a quiet sniff she presented her work to Grovemaker, who took it with a careful claw, staring at it with interest.

"There is, of course, one or two flight territories they must cross through," Ijoma went on. "That should cause no problems, as long as they keep on course as assumed. Their courses will get them here on due time, all on account of any problems that may spring up. Diantha's clan must cross through Shadow land, but, well you know, they tend to just stick to the shadows."

"I understand," Grovemaker spoke, mostly to herself. She was silent for another several minutes, until she handed the map back to Ijoma, bowing her head lightly in gratitude. "Thank you Ijoma." She looked around at the other dragons. "We will be ready for them shortly. Now, I will be on my way to inquire the representatives, if you do not mind."

"Oh, oh! Surely not, Grovemaker. My studying here is just about done." Ijoma offered her a smile, her mind already going elsewhere, and watched her matriarch take her leave.

Some of the representatives had gathered amongst themselves, bickering back and forth. Malphas, the Shadow representative, was the largest, being one of few Ridgebacks in the Nature clan, and his black hide stuck out among the other, more lightly colored peers. His booming voice was the most frequent Grovemaker could hear out of the conversation and it didn't surprise her in the slightest.

"Hail!" she greeted as she strode over to them, quieting even Malphas as the dragons turned their heads to her direction. "What is all this about?"

"Grovemaker! I can't believe you allow this..this heathen to speak around here!" Aither, a Spiral and the Wind representative, cried out as she approached. His spindly body was ridged with agitation.

"I have a right, just as much as you do," Malphas' sneering voice retorted with an unnerving calm. Aither merely glared at him, unable to form a response, his cheeks puckered as he searched for words.

"Well....well..! You're ridiculous! Why would we not offer our guests a share of food?! Grovemaker, please tell me we wouldn't be so rude!"

Grovemaker glanced between the two, taking in their expressions - Aither, flustered and aggravated, and Malphas, calm and calculating.

"What do you have to say?" she queried, eying down - or up - the Shadow dragon.

"I have spoken with Dhumavati on the matter," Malphas began, his head raised in a knowing air. "And she agrees with me; the guests should hunt and provide for themselves. We must work enough for ourselves, so why should we create even more work?"

"Because they're our guests," Aither hissed before Grovemaker silenced him with a raise of her hand.

"Malphas, it is true that we already have enough to do, however, our land is bountiful, and Aither is correct. They are our guests. We will treat them as our own, if not better."

The ground seemed to tremble with the matriarch's final sentence, and she could see in Malphas' eyes that he had gotten the picture. He said nothing more as he brushed past the others, intentionally staring Aither down as he went by. The Spiral shrunk under his gaze, and soon after he left, he sprung up, his wings guiding him up onto Grovemaker's neck, curling himself securely around it.

"Thank you," he said nervously, hitching a ride.

"Not to worry, Aither." Grovemaker chuckled with a low chuff. "Come now, let us set up where our guests shall sleep."

The wall cloud loomed ahead of the party, ominous and otherworldly in size alone. The arms swept around, at barely visible speeds, but each dragon knew from experience that this seemingly slow movement was a façade, and truly devastating and turbulent winds lay before them, more than ready to shred the scales right off their bodies.
"Its berth is too wide for us to go around. Well, without adding another day to our trip." Cloudweaver curled into a spring mid flight, and scrunched up her face in a mixture of disdain and heavy calculations.
Apollo spoke her next thoughts.
"What is more valuable: arriving on time, or the safety of our members?"
Zeltan rumbled deafeningly, his voice sounding like a thunderous boom in the open air.
"We are of Windclan, are we not? Our fliers are the strongest, the most skilled of all the flights. Would Windsinger be proud of his children not braving every stormy challenge that appears?" His tail whipped about violently. The Imperial and the consort rarely fought, though it was mutual between them that their views on "safety" were radically different.
"Noted, Zeltan." Diantha droned into his ear, "however," her frills fanned and fluttered in the breeze, "I would rather us make it to our old friend in one piece, rather than a tattered mess."
"How bad do you think it is?" Waveglider thrummed her wings a bit harder to get lift, soaring beside Stormdancer and Shoalprancer.
"I've seen worse. Couple shredders and skiddy-bottoms, but for anyone who's flown one should be fine." The slender blue Imperial mused, whiskers twitching in the wind. "The rain is heavy-looking, though. Featheries should try going around. Wouldn't want to risk drowning."
"Featheries" and "Leatheries" were how Stormdancer described the different kinds of dragon species. Featheries were dragons that had at least half of their wings covered in feathers. Leatheries were ones that had all or nearly all leather on them.
"That's me." Apollo sighed, but gave Diantha a silent, questioning glance.
"But what about you, Waveglider? Your fur must weigh you down when wet." He angled his head to her. Surely he couldn't be the only one with a crutch.
"Tundras are from the lands of ice and snow, and even though we were made to weather the storm, instead of fly it, we've been gifted with some of the sturdiest wings around." As if to prove her point, the splash striped female dove down at a blinding speed, and skittered across the waves ahead of them, water splaying out like a swallow's tail around her. She shot back up after a bit of weaving the curling waves, ocean water streaming from her wings and fur.
"No hurricane will drown me, Apollo." She let the sun dry her thick wings.
"I can always carry you," Skysinger purred, rolling playfully in the air, and slipping beneath the Skydancer like an otter. "Mistress will have to be carried as well, anyway."
Apollo stiffened mid-flight, and caught himself before faltering, feeling blood rise to his cheeks.
"A clan should help its own, and I'd rather not have us split up if we all think we can get through the typhoon." Diantha had now (with the help of Zeltan) crawled down into the powerful clutches of the Imperial, only her frilled head poking out from his thick-scaled claws.
"Yes, Milady." The dusky-winged dragon complied with another hushed sigh.
"Oh, don't worry. All my rides are the smoothest around." Skysinger hummed softly, gently wrapping Apollo up in her sinewy arms, holding him tightly to her chest.
He readjusted, folding his wings tightly to his sides, craning his neck up to see the underside of the great snowy Imperial's throat.
Her claws were delicate and kind, holding him securely by the chest and stomach, and for the millionth time, he thanked the gods for Imperials and their absolute vastness. One on your side was positively incredible. And right now they had three.
As the party neared the outer ridges of the storm, they swiftly made their way into formation.
The three Imperials lead the party, with Zeltan at the head, the matriarch safely tucked inbetween his mighty hands, her face poking out. It would be impossible to hear anything she commanded through the gale, so it was obvious that the shadowy Imperial was in charge now.
Stormdancer proudly flanked her mentor, and Shoalprancer braced herself between the great leathery wings of her friend. If the snapper were to fall, the consequences could be dire. But she wasn't worried. As a water dragon, drowning was pretty difficult. And she trusted her sister-mates.
Waveglider flew close to the navy striped Imperial, basking in the comfort of her large shadow.
Cloudweaver, despite her tiny form, was arguably the best flier for miles around, and as a navigator, knew every storm inside out with ease. She needed no help, and flew above Zeltan, readying her shrillest cries to give orders if something unexpected came up.
The Warrior King, with a great and mighty roar, flapped his massive wings, and plunged into the thick wallcloud.
The other Imperials and Waveglider soon followed, and Cloudweaver shot like a needle through the towering exterior, her body writhing and whipping about, dodging and riding the currents like it was second nature. The large dragons relied purely on brute force to weather hurricanes, because maneuvering all thirty meters of oneself would prove futile in powerful storm such as this.
The rain pelted their scales like stones, and lightning flashed all about them, sizzling and exploding the air with deafening cracks and sharp booms.
Stormdancer raised her voice with Zeltan's, whooping with joy. It was a storm like this one which brought her to the Cloudbow, and she loved every minute of the violent winds buffeting her.
Skysinger was never fond of storms, and vastly preferred clear or cloud-whisked skies. Her tail curled tightly around the gift-kites as she strained her wings. The wind and rain were wet and merciless whips, but they knew that the worst would be over soon, and they could rest and regroup in the eye.
Waveglider loved the downpour, and each gust of wind made her revel in the glorious power of nature.
Shoalprancer could barely feel the rain, and on top of that, even the stray hailstone was nothing to her callused scaled skin. Gales like these were no worry to her and she had weathered many worse.
As the hurricane raged, and lightning flashed, the party managed to burst through the side and breach the eye.
Clouds streamed off of their wings in eddies as the dragons found themselves surrounded by the "sky whirlpool," the air around them still and saturated.
"Halfway there!" Waveglider laughed, flapping her thick wings, ridding them of ice and water.
"Is everyone in order?" Diantha had peeked out from in between Zeltan's claws. "There's no time to waste, and we must make it to the Shadowlands."
"Do we have friends there?" Skysinger queried in a singsong voice.
"Children of Dreamseeker and Wishmaker." Diantha murred, before curling back into the palms of her guardian. "They will meet us at the shore, and guide us."
"Rest is up, back in!" Zeltan cried, and with a few weary sighs, the rest followed him. Not everyone was a lightning dragon.
By the time they reached the shore, and met with the twins Otha and Requiem, the Wind dragons were in tatters, with some lost feathers and scales, but their course had been straight and steady, as the Stormseeker flies, thanks to Cloudweaver's brilliant navigational skills.
With a twitch of their tails and wide grins on their faces, the two violet Skydancers motioned for the party to follow them into the dense woods.
They were led down into a bramble covered den, with soft peaty soil and lush moss.
With weary looks and hushed puffs of exhuastion, the group flopped down, curling up and preening each other. The three Imperials were happy to sleep outside and guard the den.
The night passed slowly and with dawn, the dragons were rested and ready to continue with their guides.

IrisClou

6

August 12, 2014 07:48:28

The wall cloud loomed ahead of the party, ominous and otherworldly in size alone. The arms swept around, at barely visible speeds, but each dragon knew from experience that this seemingly slow movement was a façade, and truly devastating and turbulent winds lay before them, more than ready to shred the scales right off their bodies.
"Its berth is too wide for us to go around. Well, without adding another day to our trip." Cloudweaver curled into a spring mid flight, and scrunched up her face in a mixture of disdain and heavy calculations.
Apollo spoke her next thoughts.
"What is more valuable: arriving on time, or the safety of our members?"
Zeltan rumbled deafeningly, his voice sounding like a thunderous boom in the open air.
"We are of Windclan, are we not? Our fliers are the strongest, the most skilled of all the flights. Would Windsinger be proud of his children not braving every stormy challenge that appears?" His tail whipped about violently. The Imperial and the consort rarely fought, though it was mutual between them that their views on "safety" were radically different.
"Noted, Zeltan." Diantha droned into his ear, "however," her frills fanned and fluttered in the breeze, "I would rather us make it to our old friend in one piece, rather than a tattered mess."
"How bad do you think it is?" Waveglider thrummed her wings a bit harder to get lift, soaring beside Stormdancer and Shoalprancer.
"I've seen worse. Couple shredders and skiddy-bottoms, but for anyone who's flown one should be fine." The slender blue Imperial mused, whiskers twitching in the wind. "The rain is heavy-looking, though. Featheries should try going around. Wouldn't want to risk drowning."
"Featheries" and "Leatheries" were how Stormdancer described the different kinds of dragon species. Featheries were dragons that had at least half of their wings covered in feathers. Leatheries were ones that had all or nearly all leather on them.
"That's me." Apollo sighed, but gave Diantha a silent, questioning glance.
"But what about you, Waveglider? Your fur must weigh you down when wet." He angled his head to her. Surely he couldn't be the only one with a crutch.
"Tundras are from the lands of ice and snow, and even though we were made to weather the storm, instead of fly it, we've been gifted with some of the sturdiest wings around." As if to prove her point, the splash striped female dove down at a blinding speed, and skittered across the waves ahead of them, water splaying out like a swallow's tail around her. She shot back up after a bit of weaving the curling waves, ocean water streaming from her wings and fur.
"No hurricane will drown me, Apollo." She let the sun dry her thick wings.
"I can always carry you," Skysinger purred, rolling playfully in the air, and slipping beneath the Skydancer like an otter. "Mistress will have to be carried as well, anyway."
Apollo stiffened mid-flight, and caught himself before faltering, feeling blood rise to his cheeks.
"A clan should help its own, and I'd rather not have us split up if we all think we can get through the typhoon." Diantha had now (with the help of Zeltan) crawled down into the powerful clutches of the Imperial, only her frilled head poking out from his thick-scaled claws.
"Yes, Milady." The dusky-winged dragon complied with another hushed sigh.
"Oh, don't worry. All my rides are the smoothest around." Skysinger hummed softly, gently wrapping Apollo up in her sinewy arms, holding him tightly to her chest.
He readjusted, folding his wings tightly to his sides, craning his neck up to see the underside of the great snowy Imperial's throat.
Her claws were delicate and kind, holding him securely by the chest and stomach, and for the millionth time, he thanked the gods for Imperials and their absolute vastness. One on your side was positively incredible. And right now they had three.
As the party neared the outer ridges of the storm, they swiftly made their way into formation.
The three Imperials lead the party, with Zeltan at the head, the matriarch safely tucked inbetween his mighty hands, her face poking out. It would be impossible to hear anything she commanded through the gale, so it was obvious that the shadowy Imperial was in charge now.
Stormdancer proudly flanked her mentor, and Shoalprancer braced herself between the great leathery wings of her friend. If the snapper were to fall, the consequences could be dire. But she wasn't worried. As a water dragon, drowning was pretty difficult. And she trusted her sister-mates.
Waveglider flew close to the navy striped Imperial, basking in the comfort of her large shadow.
Cloudweaver, despite her tiny form, was arguably the best flier for miles around, and as a navigator, knew every storm inside out with ease. She needed no help, and flew above Zeltan, readying her shrillest cries to give orders if something unexpected came up.
The Warrior King, with a great and mighty roar, flapped his massive wings, and plunged into the thick wallcloud.
The other Imperials and Waveglider soon followed, and Cloudweaver shot like a needle through the towering exterior, her body writhing and whipping about, dodging and riding the currents like it was second nature. The large dragons relied purely on brute force to weather hurricanes, because maneuvering all thirty meters of oneself would prove futile in powerful storm such as this.
The rain pelted their scales like stones, and lightning flashed all about them, sizzling and exploding the air with deafening cracks and sharp booms.
Stormdancer raised her voice with Zeltan's, whooping with joy. It was a storm like this one which brought her to the Cloudbow, and she loved every minute of the violent winds buffeting her.
Skysinger was never fond of storms, and vastly preferred clear or cloud-whisked skies. Her tail curled tightly around the gift-kites as she strained her wings. The wind and rain were wet and merciless whips, but they knew that the worst would be over soon, and they could rest and regroup in the eye.
Waveglider loved the downpour, and each gust of wind made her revel in the glorious power of nature.
Shoalprancer could barely feel the rain, and on top of that, even the stray hailstone was nothing to her callused scaled skin. Gales like these were no worry to her and she had weathered many worse.
As the hurricane raged, and lightning flashed, the party managed to burst through the side and breach the eye.
Clouds streamed off of their wings in eddies as the dragons found themselves surrounded by the "sky whirlpool," the air around them still and saturated.
"Halfway there!" Waveglider laughed, flapping her thick wings, ridding them of ice and water.
"Is everyone in order?" Diantha had peeked out from in between Zeltan's claws. "There's no time to waste, and we must make it to the Shadowlands."
"Do we have friends there?" Skysinger queried in a singsong voice.
"Children of Dreamseeker and Wishmaker." Diantha murred, before curling back into the palms of her guardian. "They will meet us at the shore, and guide us."
"Rest is up, back in!" Zeltan cried, and with a few weary sighs, the rest followed him. Not everyone was a lightning dragon.
By the time they reached the shore, and met with the twins Otha and Requiem, the Wind dragons were in tatters, with some lost feathers and scales, but their course had been straight and steady, as the Stormseeker flies, thanks to Cloudweaver's brilliant navigational skills.
With a twitch of their tails and wide grins on their faces, the two violet Skydancers motioned for the party to follow them into the dense woods.
They were led down into a bramble covered den, with soft peaty soil and lush moss.
With weary looks and hushed puffs of exhuastion, the group flopped down, curling up and preening each other. The three Imperials were happy to sleep outside and guard the den.
The night passed slowly and with dawn, the dragons were rested and ready to continue with their guides.

[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yVXwqsJHHFA][MUSIC][/url] Far into the distance of the Sunbeam Ruins, midst the pillars and golden fields, the ever-shadowed Hewn City could faintly be seen. The open air was much warmer the further the group soared. Yet, regardless of the seemingly endless sunny sky, a trail of the storm followed suit after the party like a single sparking claw. Out of the corners of Fatespeakers eyes, she caught glimpses of it moving along further; reaching. The powerpacks on her sides were acting up, the bolts frantically dancing towards the cloud. Stypandra noticed her leader become unfocused on the flight ahead, and saw her constantly glancing behind her wings. In concern, Stypandra looked back as well and widened her eyes at the sight she saw. Soon the whole party had slowed, distracted by the storm drifting to them. "That...is an interesting form of altostratus... At least that's what I think it is," Alnitak whispered to himself while hurriedly trying to sketch it out on a blank parchment mid-flight. He proceeded to watch Fatespeaker turn back towards the Shifting Expanse with bulging magenta eyes. "F-F-Fatespeaker wh...why're you going back?!" The other travelling members merely watched and called out to their leader, turning after her. But they didn't get any responses, and as swift as a lightning strike, Fatespeaker was swallowed by the churning cloud. --- Panic wouldn't be the exact emotion the flock was feeling at the moment. It was something more along the lines of confusion, mixed with an indefinite amount of alarm tinted with a light quantity of [i]shock[/i]. Quite literally at this point. It was normal to see random spots of storm clouds fizzing away in the sky with electricity, but not in this manner. The so-called claw of storm acted as a spire would upon impact with a charge. This charge was the storm-winged guardian in this case, causing the cloud to light up in bright cyan waves of electric pulses. With each blinding flash, an outline of the matriarch could be seen while the thunder thrummed. Wings stretching, morphing, and spines protruding in length like blades as the lightning gripped at the dragons body. There was nothing to be said once the flashing ceased, and ever so slowly the storm receded to the expanse, only to reveal a form not too unfamiliar. [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=43733] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/438/43733_350.png[/img] [/url]

Lightnea

70

August 23, 2014 15:18:45

[MUSIC]

Far into the distance of the Sunbeam Ruins, midst the pillars and golden fields, the ever-shadowed Hewn City could faintly be seen. The open air was much warmer the further the group soared.

Yet, regardless of the seemingly endless sunny sky, a trail of the storm followed suit after the party like a single sparking claw. Out of the corners of Fatespeakers eyes, she caught glimpses of it moving along further; reaching. The powerpacks on her sides were acting up, the bolts frantically dancing towards the cloud.

Stypandra noticed her leader become unfocused on the flight ahead, and saw her constantly glancing behind her wings. In concern, Stypandra looked back as well and widened her eyes at the sight she saw. Soon the whole party had slowed, distracted by the storm drifting to them.

"That...is an interesting form of altostratus... At least that's what I think it is," Alnitak whispered to himself while hurriedly trying to sketch it out on a blank parchment mid-flight. He proceeded to watch Fatespeaker turn back towards the Shifting Expanse with bulging magenta eyes. "F-F-Fatespeaker wh...why're you going back?!"

The other travelling members merely watched and called out to their leader, turning after her. But they didn't get any responses, and as swift as a lightning strike, Fatespeaker was swallowed by the churning cloud.

---

Panic wouldn't be the exact emotion the flock was feeling at the moment. It was something more along the lines of confusion, mixed with an indefinite amount of alarm tinted with a light quantity of shock. Quite literally at this point.

It was normal to see random spots of storm clouds fizzing away in the sky with electricity, but not in this manner. The so-called claw of storm acted as a spire would upon impact with a charge. This charge was the storm-winged guardian in this case, causing the cloud to light up in bright cyan waves of electric pulses. With each blinding flash, an outline of the matriarch could be seen while the thunder thrummed.

Wings stretching, morphing, and spines protruding in length like blades as the lightning gripped at the dragons body.

There was nothing to be said once the flashing ceased, and ever so slowly the storm receded to the expanse, only to reveal a form not too unfamiliar.

http://grooveshark.com/s/Dawn/4l8QJM

At dawn, the dragons woke slowly, bodies aching, wings heavy from braving the hurricane.
With a resounding rumble, Zeltan rose from the pile of sleeping Imperials, arching his back into the sky, his tail bunching up as well. The forest was dense, and the only way to stretch was up, unlike back home in the grassy plateaus of the Wind lands.
Stormdancer heaved a massive sigh and stirred awake as well, carefully folding and unfolding her wings to get out the kinks.
Skysinger awoke with a deafening purr, and brushed up against both Imperials before climbing to the top of the den, and taking to the murky sky.
Her silky white form was barely visible as more than a wisp when she began to sing, her voice spiraling back down to call and rouse her clan.
Diantha uncurled herself from underneath Apollo's wing, and stood up, vibrating violently, frills flared out as she stretched.
The Skydancer merely nodded his head, before jerking awake. He smiled, hearing the faint words of Skysinger, in her journey's chorale.
/Fair winds guide ye/
/Soft clouds welcome ye/
/Before ye, the Caller flies/
/With song paints the skies/
/Follow, ye weary warriors/
/Seek the Breath of the World/
/Be renewed as His children/
/Hither then, Hither then/
/Brethren of the Everlasting/
/Let thy wings beat evermore/
/Evermore, evermore/
/Let thy wings beat evermore/
Shoalprancer and Waveglider rose to their feet, and yawned loudly, blearily padding out to meet the others.
Cloudweaver was already up, curled around a treestump, conversing with the twin Skydancers.
The eternal fog hovered over the land, muffling the party's words as they made their way through bramble and bush.
"So, why aren't we flying, again?" Shoalprancer's deep tenor broke the mumbled conversations of the others.
"The air is almost always dead here." Apollo offered, wincing slightly as one of Diantha's claws accidentally dug into his shoulder as she adjusted herself on his back, "It would be like flying in water. Not to mention the fog is so thick, visibility is down to nearly zero."
Still, or "dead" air was considered a very ill omen in Wind culture, and the mere mention of it usually sent chills up a dragon's spine. Dead air was what signaled great typhoons or other deadly storms. Death was the handmaiden to the winds unmoving.
Otha and Requim had chosen a path most suitable for dragons not used to the tricking shadows and the dense haze that lay like a blanket across all of the Shadow lands.
The loamy dirt beneath them was littered with glowing baubles of mushrooms, and tiny firebugs flitted around them. Even though it was nearly sun-high, the mist refused to disperse.
The journey through the Tangled Wood was arduous and slow, but by sunset, the Windclan dragons overlooked the cliffs that led towards their final destination--a massive and towering tree, one that covered an entire land of rich vegetation: The Behemoth.
This would be their last flight for many days.

IrisClou