Quests & Challenges

[center][b]|| A Legacy of War Challenge ||[/b] [size=1]= PINGLIST =[/size] [item=depleted sacridite][item=rusted chain][item=bloodstone] [i]From one born of none shall be traced in familial blood a lineage; from one who would never have been marked at all, will come about a bloodied history. Of pride and strength, the family will be known, if known to any they be. Their blood will water the earth, and each new pool of life and form will only ever allow one to surface, to breathe, to escape the death long enough to continue their vile chain. From one born of none shall be traced in bitter ink a lineage; from one who ought never have been marked indeed, who shall be the warp which weaves a sadder tale. That mind be what their family seek, and that when mind is corrupted, what use have they to keep such a thing? Their tears will pour over the land, mixing with their broken bodies, and from the deadly forests of their sickened minds will always come one more, the next link in their despairing chain. Each family will carve, with claw against familial flesh, the story. Each family will strive to make itself perfect according to its own conception of perfection. [/i][/center] ----- I've been meaning to do an LoW for a while, and so of course I'm here now after consulting my friends on discord and being told to just. Do the thing [s]even with all the other things I have, haw[/s]. [quote name="Rules"] Using the rules from [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/qnc/2044950/1]Dreamnorn's Challenge Rules[/url] as the baseline, and including... [size=4][b]Mechanical Rules[/b][/size] [list][*][b]All from Nothing:[/b] Instead of having a ten-generation limit, your Legacy of War lives on until you have bred a dragon with a rare breed (Coatl or Wildclaw) and triple gem genes who can trace their lineage back to your triple-Basic and plentiful founder. [*][b]The Chosen One:[/b] If you bought a mate that has a rare breed (Coatl or Wildclaw) and/or any number of gem genes, it's unlikely that those traits will pass down even if your current heir has a limited breed or gene in their corresponding slots. If such a dragon is born against all odds, they are declared "the chosen one" for that generation and are automatically made heir, regardless of whether or not you prefer their siblings (for any reason) over them. [*][b]No Price Too Great:[/b] No real limit to the cost of the mates, but I probably won't be going over 20 kT just because I happen to like having money. [*][b]Try Weggain:[/b] You must re-breed the parents for all generations that get a one-egg nest, even if the sole hatchling has one or more upgrades that would satisfy a Legacy of War challengee. [*][b]To each, their own:[/b] For kicks, each bloodline has to take a mate with a matching starting battlestone set to the founder; the exception to this rule is if there are no dragons of a breed rarity which would work for the next tier, in which case the anticipate-stone dragons are wildcards and can work in both lineages, and the imperials are possible for the Acuity line.[br] [*]After the heir is determined, Every sibling and coach used rolls 1d6. If it lands on 1, that dragon must be killed in the lore and I must either exalt-train them, sell them, or give them away to a follower of this thread. [*]Every chapter after the next generation's nest is tested and a new heir is picked, the old heir, their mate, and any siblings that didn't make it (but passed the initial 1d6 test) will face 1d20 roll. If it lands on 1 (Acuity) or on 1-2 (Serthic), that dragon must be killed in the lore and I must either exalt-train, sell, or give them away to a follower of this thread.[/list] [size=4][b]The End Game[/b][/size][list][*]Obviously the goal is to get a triple-gem gene wildclaw from the Serthic line and a coatl from the Acuity line[/list] [size=5]Edit:[/size] Unfortunately I do not have the attention to do nice and fun lore for this thing, as evidenced by it being a year of silence here and me only just getting back to it with my brain constantly at a state of 'slightly scrambled'. I'm leaving Koloss' chapter up but everything else will just be logging the nests, heirs, mates, and repeat.

[center][size=4][b]|| Table of Contents ||[/size][/b] ----- [i]They do not know the eyes that watch them, nor the claws that mark their fates and changing lives. Who could know the hands that trace their story? Perhaps not even those scribes know.[/i]----- [b]Part I | The Pen and the Sword[/b] [list][*][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/qnc/2831432#post_42610873]Waking into a world of Strife | Koloss[/url]

[center][size=4][b]|| Endless Forms most Beautiful ||[/b][/size] ----- [i]Minds wired and framed in the plague-kin way; only the strong are worthy of surviving, and only the strong will therefore be granted their lives.[/i]----- [columns][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=57483369][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/574834/57483369.png[/img][/url][nextcol][center][b]Generation: 0[/b] [i]The sickness begins with the mother, whose mind was tainted from her wretched life's start. It begins with the father, who shared her dreams of strength, born into a form weak by compare.[/i][/center][nextcol][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=57497535][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/574976/57497535.png[/img][/url] [/center]

[center][size=4][b]|| Minds Abyssal and Strange ||[/b][/size] ----- [i]Bodies designed without bloodshed in mind, shaped out of sinew and bone for the casting of spells and stories; is there anything greater than a body which can weave magic from song and ink?[/i]----- [columns][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon= 55501548][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/555016/55501548.png[/img][/url][nextcol][center][b]Generation: 0[/b] [i]The corruption starts with the father, who desires mind stronger than what his birth has given him. It starts with the mother whose desire to have been something greater drives her to act in ways unbecoming of an Exalted.[/i][/center][nextcol][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon= 57711060][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/577111/57711060.png[/img][/url] [/center]

[center][size=4][b]|| The Persons of Importance ||[/b][/size] ----- [i]And more, and more, there are beings who play into the story. Some from a family that watches with calculated indifference, but most from these twin families themselves.[/i]----- [size=4][b]Strength to Fight[/b][/size] [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon= 57483369][img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/574834/57483369_350.png[/img][/url] [b]Koloss[/b] [i]There was strife from hatching, for one born cusp-of-plague such as herself. Not growing in the company of dragons, it is surprising to many that she knows language at all.[/I] [item='Bone Fragments'][item='Sharpened Serthis Lance'][item='Bloodstone']

[center][size=5][b]Waking into a world of Strife[/b][/size] ----- [item="Bone Fragments"][item="Sharpened Serthis Lance"][item="Bloodstone"]-----[/center] An egg abandoned where Arcanist's lands melted and merged into the ever-growing scar of the Plaguebringer's might, where dwelt the Serpentine Kin. The egg abandoned, which was found by the child-sect of a larger clan, and over which were fought many internal battles. Those who suggested to kill it gave reasons enough; the drain it would have on their resources, the probability of it turning on them, the impossibility of having a dragon who would fight against its fellows and with the race that wished them extinct. It was, however, the side that believed the egg a token in their favor, who won this debate- in might where they had to, and by convincing the others of the benefits of having a dragon as ally, as one who would be able to fight with strength unmatched by their parental sect. What luck it would be, the supposed, if when the time came for their family to rejoin, they had on their side a dragon, one who could ensure their smaller group stay alive even in the ensuing bloodshed. For while the adults who grew weak would surely be picked off, those who were stronger and more clever would hardly risk fighting a dragon rather than adapt to the changing tides of their society. So a childling of the draconic races fell into the grasp of the Serthis bands that roamed the wastes betwixt the focused Mind of arcane magic and the raw Might of the beplagued and rotted lands of the Filthy One. [center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=57483369] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/574834/57483369_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] Bright mauve eyes that pierced with pupil-lacking gaze were first seen by the Serthis clan a few days past their first encounter with this heavenly orb, after it split itself open and discharged a little creature of plain coloration. Their revulsion, their immediate sense of [I]panic[/I] was suppressed. Vibrant blue in gilded white clothes moved towards the fallen creature, who looked this way and that, as though searching for members of its own kin. "There are none other like yourself here, youngling." Not that the little drake should have understood that. From the strange gaze, that sight in heat- and visible- ranges, the youngling watched the serpentines; some of them gripped yet tighter to their spears, some seemed almost curious about this hatchling that had chanced into their small group. She couldn't know it yet, but these were all children too; only a small sect of wildlings according to the society that the Serthis race had created for themselves. [I]Family?[/I] The blue-scaled serpentine, the one who had approached before, now the focus of the four-eyed dragon. [I]Family?[/I] It was strange, in the heart of the serpentine, that she felt like this thing was understood- that it extended the favor and understood her as well. [I]You are only a hatchling. There is no reason you should know me. Do not look on me as though you can understand this family I must weave. Must... Weave?[/I] And there again, it seemed to think with more coherence than its ten minutes ought have given it. "You won't attack us." It was still so unsettling, to feel anything resembling [u]trust[/u] for something that was a born enemy of her kin. And yet... [I]No. Why... Fight?[/I] And yet it was not her enemy. Then they'd made the right choice. [center]~~~[/center] Perhaps they had made the right choice. Perhaps not. But this was the way of the Serthis- as much as it was the way of the dragons who lived in worship of their Disgusting Lady of Disease. To become stronger with each generation, and to always adapt. The years ticked on. Their foundling, [I]Koloss[/I], grew in step with the family of young, learned their tongue; learned too the cruel bite of their swords and spears, the ceaseless sparring that ended only when the group found common foe, and which started again when that foe was vanquished. She understood the purpose of their petty bickering, the sharp swords that were leveled at one another at the least insult. She saw how some were cowed, and how those became like servants who did not challenge the venomed tongues of others, the harsh treatment of others. She held out some vaguest hope that they might one day strike back; after all, it was the strange envenomed culture they lived in. Not that she could find it strange- why should she question the environment she knew since her first memories? She was strong enough to fight on their behalf. Long ago, she had done just that; her instinct for family was then stronger than the instinct for selfishness. Now she watched the weak ones, the broken ones, as they were weakened and broken further. She didn't step in. There was no need to waste energy on things like that. The assimilation would begin soon. Koloss had heard from the one who was comparable to perhaps a cousin, the blue serpentine [I]Talanton[/I] that had been there even at the start. Their "parents" would soon arrive to collect them, now that they were adult themselves. Koloss still hadn't identified properly what the nature of a parent was, but she supposed it was important, to some extent. Why else would Talanton have become so... [I]sharp[/I] with regards to them? There wasn't much other word for it- maybe terse. "And what makes them so fearsome?" "They will be our opponents, and they have many years more experience than we. They will also outnumber us by a great deal; our advantage is largely one of raw strength by compare to older bodies as will make up their congregation. I would favor to use a more subtle approach- poison darts and a more shielded position. But you know that already, I've said it before." "Am I to face off against others like myself as well? You mention that there will be many and that they will outnumber us, and always I hear mention of them being our progenitors." "... I assume with fair certainty that there will be no dragons among them." "They are... Family, are they not? Why do we fight them as though warring enemies?" Koloss watched the shift in Talanton's shoulders, the shift in position, one that was a measure less certain. "Ordinarily, I think we wouldn't have to." "But?" "But they are not expecting us to have a dragon among our allies. They will see it as traitorous. So they- we assume, will be fighting all the more harshly against us instead of letting us join and solve issues of leadership and dispute in the ways native to either their family or ours. I assumed that to have you on our side would protect us, and now I am older and almost begin to see that as a fool's choice." The stinging nettles in that remark pierced the arcanite's heart, even as she tried to ignore it. "Send me away then." "You are more family than they. I will not recognize the face of my own parents when I see them. I cannot forget yours." She shrugged, finally turning to face the armored drake that had wormed her way into the tent. "Besides. I send you away and the remaining lot will question my judgement forever more. I wouldn't be able to live with it, and I rather not die for that." The words were not meant to echo, or to sting, and it may have been, after all, a part of the language they spoke not having enough dexterity in its words to convey a better meaning. Koloss tried to recall that to herself that evening, as she lay guard on the southern edge of the camp, more sharply stung than by any poison-tipped arrow or spear that had found its mark in her before.