Quests & Challenges

@holoquest
((Can we do a short lil introduction in character yet or should I wait for the prompt? Thanks for running this, by the way!))

Im excited for this!

If wyrmwround dies first round im going to tease him for the rest of his existence

@AWB

I'd suggest waiting for the prompt, which should be up in the next 20 minutes or so!

Round 1 RPers: @Kydoimos @Namira @horrorsilk @xBrinkyprism @HollowBay @BlueStopSigns @MarinaQuakenbush @Goldia @Aprycus @GrimdarkRoxy @Hassaleh @Dessy @Bxy26 @Makochan @Loreka @wintrecat @CrypticHobo @Sidegrinder @TigressRising @AWB @Archerfish The widest part of the Mirror Mesa had been crowded with makeshift camps since the first tributes had been dropped unceremoniously onto the tall monolith situated in the near-center of the Wyrmwound. Being a mirror meant that the idea of flying from this location was hard to fathom - the walls were much too steep to scramble down, and the edge of the Wyrmwound - a line on the horizon in every direction - was far too distant for the short bursts of stamina that most mirrors were capable of when it came to flying. While other breeds might see no issue with escape, this Mesa was more than adequate for keeping unwary mirrors trapped, waiting for their fate. The first tributes had been there almost a week; the last, less than a few hours. It wasn't all bad, though. There had been a bonfire every night, and more than once a large carcass of some beast had been dropped into the camp, making for happy feasting for the different packs. The end result was a gory, macabre mess, as unfinished meat was left to bake in the hot air for the carrion birds, who picked the bones clean over the course of days. These bones (and pieces of stretched hide) had been used by many an intrepid mirror to construct makeshift shelters, and now the Mesa was populated with small camps. Even now - before the games had even begun - alliances were being drawn and enemies were being made, as dragons argued over who was strongest and who could or couldn't be trusted. Any real scuffles, however, were broken up by [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/7058525]Kharjo[/url], a grizzled old [s]guardian[/s] mirror who was at least twice the size of any other dragon on the mesa. Today, the last of the tributes had been dropped into the camp. Those final joiners were still dusting the dirt off their tails when a loud roar shook the mesa, carrying on until all had fallen silent and were looking at the source of the roar: Kharjo, who sat beside the skull of one of the dropped carcasses. Standing atop the skull is a mirror, who clears its throat as it casts a discerning eye around the dragons gathering below it. [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/62759587][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/627596/62759587_350.png[/img][/url][/center] "Hello. Can hear me?" It taps at the necklace around its neck a couple times; the necklace flashes, briefly illuminating the mirror's face. "[b][size=5]Can hear me?[/b]" it repeats, only to stumble back, clearly startled by the loudness of its own voice. Clearing its throat, it grins down at the crowd. "Good! "Welcome to THE MIRROR GAMES. Here you will prove that you are the [i]best[/i] mirror, the [i]most[/i] vicious, the [i]most[/i] cunning, the strongest and best! We should be starting soon." It glances behind itself, and then up at the sky. What it's looking for is anyone's guess. After a moment, it looks back at the crowd, grinning. "Soon, you will be dropped into the Arena, where you will find a pile of pretty useful stuff!" It points past the crowd, at a not-too-distant cliff - the edge of the Arena, a sunken pit in the center of this massive Mesa. Right now, an obscuring mist swirls through the air just a few feet below the lip, obscuring the Arena itself, though you can hear the strange lowing and growls of the unseen horrors hunting through the grounds below the mists. Behind the mirror, a black smudge on the horizon is growing steadily bigger. After a few moments, it's clear that it's a set of large guardians, carrying a massive boar carcass. "Until then, you can eat!" The mirror announces, just as the carcass is dropped in the center of the campgrounds. The weight of it hitting the ground is enough to make it shake. "Remember," it adds, "Mother is rooting for you, but she only loves a survivor!" Cackling, the mirror scampers off the skull, disappearing behind it, where Kharjo remains a silent observer. Who knows how long you have until you will be herded into the Arena? Better enjoy this peace while you can... [center]~[emoji=mirror tongue size=2]~[/center] [i]((Welcome to the mirror games! Feel free to introduce yourself to other Tributes and explore the campgrounds. Your dragon can have been here for as long as you'd like - 5 days have passed since the first set of dragons were dropped onto the Mesa, and there have been new tributes added on a regular basis - and while the atmosphere has been lively, that doesn't mean it's been friendly...or that it's friendly now. Good luck!))[/i]

[b]Bloodbeak - District 4 - Plague - Spiral[/b] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=51833053][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/518331/51833053p.png[/img][/url] ----- "Oh, gosh, I'm so excited! There will be so many shinies to ah... acquire, and perhaps even an ally in the arena! More hands make for more distractions while I commit [s]crime[/s] uh, borrowing! Yes, borrowing." Bloodbeak unwraps himself from the tree he was roosting in near the borders of the camp and starts heading towards the boar carcass, looking for food... or easy marks.

SLICER - DISTRICT 9 - PLAGUE - Mirror

Multiple eyes blink slowly as he glares out over the camp. Seeing this many mirrors in one place almost makes him miss his old pack. Almost. Slicer has never been one for sentimentality, and this chance to secure glory for himself could almost be considered a dream come true. In fact, even if he did fail, he would go without regrets. Well, save maybe for the fact that he would miss Blight. But she was strong and more than capable of taking care of herself.

Any dragon that gets too close is met with a low, rumbling growl, teeth bared as he digs his claws into the hardened earth. After all, he didn't exactly come here to make friends. From nearby, Fitzpatrick gives a raspy croak, raggedy wings rustling as he lights atop a nearby pile of bones.

"Yeah, yeah, I know there's food." Slicer flicks a rock aside and hauls himself to his feet, pumping his wings and stretching. "But what good is eating if you didn't kill the thing first?" Fitzpatrick caws again and the mirror rolls his eyes. "Let's just say I'm saving my appetite, then."

Still, with this many hungry dragons in one place, it's sure to be quite the show. Slicer watches as the other dragons feast, sitting back on his haunches and lazily sharpening his claws.

For him, the games couldn't start soon enough.

[b]Fuse - District 3 - Arcane[/b][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/qnc/2920866/4#post_44993236] [img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/628839/62883882p.png[/img][/url] [rule] Fuse narrowed her eyes. She almost inherently didn't trust anything about this; she just came here to get the bacteria for Ice's thing, and now she had to face the very real possibility of actually dying. Of course, she'd probably come back as a ghost or something, but still. Once she saw everyone rushing towards the carcass, she sighed and stood up. It wouldn't last long, and she figured the bit about them starting soon was true. Best to try and eat now.

[center][b]Alis - District 6 - Fire - Mirror[/b][/center] [center][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/606628/60662752.png[/img][/center] ----- Alis looked around at his so called "competitors". At best, they were children: naïve, foolish, overly confident; at worst, they were quite possibly the stupidest dragons Alis had ever met, at least the ones who volunteered. The one thing Alis never understood about his kin were their pride in their violence. Sure, a hunt well done is something to be proud of, but the death itself, the death of a [i]dragon[/i]: that was not something to celebrate. These dragons, these [i]children[/i], they will be dead when this is all over. But honestly? Not his problem. There's a hunt on after all. Alis had smelled his prey a few days ago and tracked it here, and it didn't seem like it was leaving anytime soon. He couldn't really smell it anymore, between the other mirrors, the food: rotting or heavily spiced, and the distant wyrmwound, the scent was far to covered to track. But he knew his prey was still here, call it years of experience, call it foolish hope, but he [i]knew[/i] it was still here. It would not be leaving either, not until the games were over. So he'd have to stay. Of course, that didn't mean he'd have to fight. No, he would fight for an entirely different reason, but that doesn't matter anymore. He's fighting now, whether he likes it or not, but not yet. Right now, there is thumping drums, flapping wings, and more importantly, a giant boar carcass. Alis had never been one to turn down a free meal and good company. He just hopes he can get in one night in a warm bed, and one meal, where he doesn't have to think about the Hunt, or being hunted.

[b]Phaedra ~ District 7 ~ Wind[/b] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/56729551][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/567296/56729551.png?mtime=X0CcpgAASO0.png[/img][/url][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/57677953][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/576780/57677953.png?mtime=X0l9RgAAWsk.png[/img][/url][/center] Phaedra had been waiting about a day, and was wondering who her (at least temporary partner) would be. She'd hoped it might be Whiffle, her mate, but he had been banned from participating on the grounds that [i]no, a jolly jester's cap does NOT qualify as a Mirror Masque.[/i] He stood near her, wingtips trembling with barely suppressed excitement as he looked around. She stifled a smile. He was still a Games junkie; even his own failed attempt hadn't dimmed the excitement in his eyes. She knew he'd be watching and cheering her on from the sidelines. That made her even more anxious to do as well as she could. Granted, it wouldn't [i]quite[/i] be fair to him if she won, but perhaps he'd get his own opportunity someday. "Don't you recognize that Snapper?" he asked her, snapping her out of her reverie. "You mean Mirror," she corrected automatically, before turning to look. No that dragon was definitely too chunky to be a Mirror, although she made a slim Snapper. "Maybe...I think she may have stopped by one of our clan's booths during a festival." "Should we say hi?" Phaedra watched the Snapper turn toward them, and saw the flash of a competitor's badge. "No, I think not." Whiffle shrugged. "You need friends." "No friends allowed. Only temporary alliances. Remember?" "Right." Whiffle checked his program again. "Hey, they've added a partner for you! He's right over there. You ought to meet [i]him[/i] at least." Phaedra agreed. They headed toward the feasting Mirrors, Whiffle becoming slightly nauseous as they approached the massive boar carcass. Phaedra carefully sliced off a piece and nibbled it. She wasn't about to gorge herself, but neither would it be a good idea to jump into the Games hungry. They finally reached the male Mirror indicated in the program. He carried a staff, to Phaedra's satisfaction, and radiated the aura of a Firstborn. He raised glassy Iceborn eyes to them as they approached. "I'd like to offer my services," Phaedra said bluntly. "My claws and weaponry, your magus skills. I'm not without training in the arcane arts, but I prefer to use my claws." ((@dessy @bluestopsigns))

Nelas gnawed on a piece of boar, taking in her fellow tributes from a distance. She was at the edge of her tent, constructed from scraps of canvas and prey hides and supported by bones, which were tied together securely. Admittedly, she was proud of it, and was slightly saddened by the fact that she would be leaving it behind for the arena.
The Mirror was excited to be back in the Scarred Wasteland. Everything, from the oozing puddles to the parched ground, was so familiar, and compared to the Southern Icefield, this was heaven. She could practically feel the magic tying her to this place surging through her veins, especially since they were so close to the Wrymwound.
You're letting your mind wander again, Nelas, her brain hissed. That's a huge disadvantage on the battlefield. You space out in a place like this, you're dead.
She went back to studying her peers, trying to gather the final bits of information on them before the games began. A quick glance at her district partner had told her all she needed to know, though - rude and comes off as cold-hearted. Not the type to trust.
Not that she planned on trusting anyone.
A thought came to her, and Nelas ripped a piece of canvas away from the edge of the tent. She dipped a claw in some blood left over from her meal and scratched words onto the canvas.

Untrustworthy by default:
Slimabean
Poppy
Kitalpha
Bloodbeak
Okapi
Ganya
Khanajr
Infestation
Should probably stay away from:
Fuse
Nyomi
Alis
Ged
Phaedra
Brimstone
Clem
Febad
Avoid at all costs:
Riki
Christopher
Orion
Carnage
Slicer
Mathe
Wrymwound

Alright, fair enough.
Nelas folded the canvas up and tucked it into her glove, between the fabric and her scales. It formed a bulge that would be easily noticeable if it weren't for her cloak.
She threw the remains of her meal out of the tent and retreated into its shelter, closing the flaps behind her. The Mirror curled up on the packed earth, committing her list to memory.
She would not fall victim.