Quests & Challenges

[center][size=4][b]Day 9[/b][/size][/center] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/90057505][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/900576/90057505_350.png[/img][/url] [item=Woven Basket] The day passed by uneventful as usual. She couldn't remember how long she'd been sitting here, really. The days had started blending together like a haze, but she knew she'd know when her time here was up. 13 days, they said. 13 days, and if She didn't touch her, then She didn't want her. ...The day carried on uneventful, and though the dragons around her hoped with anticipation, Ambitae simply was left hoping for either a sign or an end. It couldn't be too much longer, right? She'd learn, sooner or later, if Mother was ever truly meant for her. ...And if she was not meant for this path, it would be time to figure out what she was supposed to do otherwise, what call truly resonated in her soul if Mother refused to answer it. [b]Ambitae has not recieved the Infection. 4 days remain.[/b]

[center][size=4][b]Day 10[/b][/size][/center] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/90057505][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/900576/90057505_350.png[/img][/url] [item=Assassin Bug] The day passed, uneventful as always. Dragons succeeded, failed, and even gave up around her. And she, stoic as she was now, was simply waiting for some kind of [i]result[/i]. It had been a very fruitless effort thus far. She couldn't really even feel the caustic air on her lungs; she'd gotten too used to the noxious air in her time here. That which once threatened to tear at her became benign in the face of her trial. And her trial continued without even the slightest of a hint of her approval. ... She wondered, truly, if she would be taken in at the very last days, or if she would simply be left to find a new path for herself with this one taken. [b]Ambitae has not recieved the Infection. 3 days remain.[/b]

[center][size=4][b]Day 11[/b][/size][/center] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/90057505][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/900576/90057505_350.png[/img][/url] [item=Dwarf Truffle Spores] She could've sworn that she felt the rot and decay fill her body and render her ill. Some aspect of her wanted to heave, to cough, to shudder and fall. ... It was just the Wyrmwound's fumes getting to her again, though. The wind's direction shifted, and with just as much ease as it had settled in, it left. No blessing upon her body. No relief from eternal waiting. ...Maybe this was a good thing? Maybe she would be rewarded for her eternal patience, for stubbornly sticking through her doubt, for sitting here all this time with fruitless effort. Or.. maybe she was just feeling things. Maybe she was just growing feeble from her meditation. That could still be a good sign... [b]Ambitae has not recieved the Infection. 2 days remain.[/b]

[center][size=4][b]Day 12[/b][/size][/center] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/90057505][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/900576/90057505_350.png[/img][/url] [item=Dubia Roach] Their only company right now, aside from the dragons in as equal of vigil as she was, were the skittering insects somehow attuned to this place. She watched, in silent contempt, as they squabbled from one pocket to the next. If she did fall here, they would've been the only things to feel her loss; and they would relish it, a massive meal to bring into the wider wound. And yet, despite nearly spending two weeks in silent vigil, she had not starved, had not succumbed, had not even slightly fallen ill. She could feel it. The end of her trial was near. If she did not receive word tomorrow, she would take the hint, and leave for greener pastures. ...Not in a literal sense, though. She bet her skin stank of Plague, and she doubted her home clan would ever welcome her again. Perhaps she could follow that call... [b]Ambitae has not received the Infection. One last day.[/b]

[center][size=4][b]Day 13[/b][/size] [i]The final day of the Trial of Infection.[/i][/center] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/90057505][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/900576/90057505_350.png[/img][/url] [item=Pretty Pink Tail Bow] It was the last day. She could feel it. It was the last day. All 24 of her remaining hours was spent in silent reflection, drowning out the world around her. What was her plan now? She couldn't feel even the slightest bit feverish, and she began to wonder. Was this Mother's rejection? Was she meant for a different path? Where did she plan on going, then? 24 hours passed, and then, she could feel it. Her body was feeble, weak, but still alive. After two weeks of sitting, silently, reflecting and thinking, starving and struggling on the edge of the Wyrmwound, she emerged unchanged, untouched; perhaps not Worthy of her Touch. ... But something else had been calling her, and she could feel it. She filled her belly with some of the scrap creatures around the Wyrmwound, carrion bugs and other crawling things, before setting across the territory. Someone was beckoning to her, and if Mother did not wish to answer, then perhaps this new voice would lead her somewhere new. [b]Ambitae has failed the Necromatic Trials, never being touched by Mother's hand.[/b] But not all is for naught; she seems to have caught wind of another force to drive her...

[center][size=6]RUN #2: TO RECLAIM POWER[/size] [b]Stelsora[/b], a Fire Skydancer who has sought the Cauldron though the fury of Boiling Blood. [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/90453973][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=1&body=67&bodygene=10&breed=13&element=11&eyetype=1&gender=0&tert=176&tertgene=11&winggene=23&wings=34&auth=b309b07a7a5a5223ef760a1a2a56a0794a271763&dummyext=prev.png[/img][/url][/center] He has been battered, bruised, and hurt all his life. From a fledgling Fire dragon, he has only known trial and hardship, with the world pushing him to his very limit in order to survive. The world has been cruel, and he is tired of being but a pawn in the world around him. He heard of Necromancers by chance; a trip through Plague, it's harsh wasteland, and an individual who saw the resilience in his eyes. He took time to think on it, but now he stands firmly before the Wyrmwound ahead. He refuses to let this tarnish him; he will reclaim all the power he was stripped of all his life, or he will [b]die trying[/b]. Failure is not an option. [i]Stelsora has [b]uncommon[/b] eyes, and is easily influenced by the magic surrounding them. They will have an advantage in the Trial of Infection, and can use Pinkerton AND Swipp for a sign.[/i] [i]First day will begin once Stelsora is no longer a Hatchling.[/i]

[center][size=4][b]Day 1[/b][/size][/center] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/90453973][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/904540/90453973_350.png[/img][/url] Stelsora strides confidently forwards, determined to see the harshness of the Wyrmwound emerge or die trying. His trials will be done on [b]Hard[/b] difficulty. The magic around him swirls and his body settles into the magic at hand. [b]Stelsora will be able to use Swipp alongside Pinkerton for his sign.[/b] [i]I will mostly only use this once a day alongside the initial post, but may produce a second post for the day if I end up peeking back in at a later date on a day and receive a sign.[/i] [item=Discipline] [item=Maple Caterpillar] [item=Patina Pangolin] [center][item=Aqua Birdskull Necklace][/center] He settled himself in at the harshest edge of the rim, looking down at that festering pot of death and decay. He knew what he came here for; he needed to fortify himself for the task at hand. He would thrive here, or die trying. This was what he knew. It did not take long, though, for the Wyrmwound's caustic air to seep through him; it's magic was harsh, strong, powerful. He was an open vessel, battered and broken apart, and it flooded into each crack and crevice of his magical core. It was painful. It was agonizing. He immediately shuddered, feeling it's raw infection sink in deep. And he could feel it, in the back of his mind: He was meeting death. Either the powerful infection would boil over him and leave him nothing but a carcass, or he would emerge more powerful. [item=Black Slime] And though the agony of the moment was unbearable, the illness settled in eventually. Alive, the divine illness ravenged his body, and now all that was left was to fight it. He could feel the mutation settle into him, and he knew he would be changed; he would be alive. His brush with death has changed him, and he is now eligible for [b]Multigaze[/b] should he survive. [b]Stelsora has succeeded the Trial of Infection. The Trial of Survival commences.[/b]

[center][size=4][b]Day 1: Trial of Infection[/b][/size][/center] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/90453973][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/904540/90453973_350.png[/img][/url] [item=Black Slime] [b]Black Slime[/b] means his Faith and Determination dragons will be two physical fighters. [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/90426619][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/904267/90426619_350.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/90426620][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/904267/90426620_350.png[/img][/url] His [b]Faith[/b] and his [b]Determination[/b] flank him. Now all he has to do is survive. His first day was harsh. His body had already been ravenged by it's initial fumes, and the illness crept up on him. He was already weak. He was already fragile. And he had chosen the harshest spot to sit, the harshest place to die. His body faltered. He could feel it. He was going to die here. All he had left to do was [b]pray[/b] that Mother found him worthy. [item=Grey Slime] ... Mother did not answer his call. ... Something deep inside of him reached outwards, to try and claim him. He knew what it was. [b]The Shade.[/b] He could accept it's power, but... Did he really wish to become something so wretched? He could see this sign for what it was. The plague had so pitifully splayed him apart, even after all the trial and hardship. Maybe it had made him weaker... ... No. No, he wasn't going to die here. He didn't fight tooth and claw to survive, just to be flayed apart by Mother's Wrath. If she didn't want him, fine. [b]He'd try his luck with the Shade's hand.[/b] [i]Stelsora has fallen to the Shade. Should he succeed in his trials, he will become a [b]Lich[/b]. However, he can no longer become killed, except by the Shade consuming him should he fail his trials anyhow.[/i] [b]Stelsora has not surpassed the Infection. 22 days remain.[/b]

[center][size=4][b]Day 2[/b][/size][/center] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/90453973][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/904540/90453973_350.png[/img][/url] Yesterday felt like a hazy blur in his head. It is not often one gets infected, killed, and resuscitated all in the same day, after all. He could barely even remember the wretched pact he made with the Shade to survive. But he could feel it just under the surface; [b]It demanded his sacrifice.[/b] He could do little more than oblige, and let the virulent virus settle under his skin. He is weak, and fragile, and painfully fractured. The infection has killed him once, and it does so again and again, an unimaginable fractal of pain, an unimaginable fractal of endless suffering and infection. Her rage and fury at his survival extends ever outwards, and he suffers indefinitely because of it. He dies again, but the Shade is not content with how easily he falls. He rises and opens his eyes, again and again. Mother wants him dead. She will reject him eternally, keep him dying and dying and dying again and again. But the Shade pulls him upwards. The Shade will make him suffer for his power. The Shade brings him back, and he loses himself again and again. [b]Stelsora has not surpassed the Infection. 21 days remain.[/b]

[center][size=4][b]Day 3[/b][/size][/center] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/90453973][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/904540/90453973_350.png[/img][/url] It is a perpetual, unmoving state of agony. He is too weak. [i]He is too weak.[/i] He should've died so long ago, he should've just accepted his fate and let the plague consume him. He should've just died. ... Maybe he has died, really. He can't remember why he wanted to fight anymore. He can only remember the infestation eating him open, eating him inside out, and the Shade pushing him forwards, consuming every last part and renewing him, building him into something stronger. He hoped he was building into something stronger. On the outside, it was painfully obvious how far he had fallen. Rot and decay ate him open, and tainted shadow writhed within, trying to build him whole again. Those around him recoiled at the terrible power that emerged from him. But they could not do anything. [i]If this had not killed him, what could?[/i] [b]Stelsora has not surpassed the Infection. 20 days remain.[/b]