Quests & Challenges

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/SjLfhfh.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][color=#990000][size=7]Mask Day 5[/font][/size][/color][/center] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/93529500][img]https://i.imgur.com/RhBICN8.png[/img][/url][/center] [font=cambria][size=3][i]Fidget.[/i] He was trying. He really was. But... for once, something was starting to trickle in past all that self-assured patience. It wasn't quite so hot in his belly yet that he could call it 'anger.' It was more a soft simmer, an unrest that kept him from fully settling himself. [i]'Frustration,'[/i] he decided, at last. It was frustration with sitting here, day after day. He'd assumed, at first, that Plaguebringer wanted to truly test his focus but he had outlasted four other dragons, now, without moving more than necessary to avoid starvation. (And wasn't that fair enough..?) He'd sat through two full thirteen-day periods, and here he was, nearly halfway through the third. With [i]nothing[/i] to show for it. This time... If nothing came of it this time? He'd sit [i]in[/i] the damn Wyrmwound. [i]'Let her ignore me then,'[/i] he seethed. And for once, both heads were in full agreement. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mBVXuev.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][size=4][b]Trial of Infection[/b][/size][/font] [font=cambria][size=3]The dragon has 13 days to develop an infection as a sign from the Plaguebringer that they are worthy. Day 5/13[/center][/size][/font] [center][font=cambria][size=3][i]'Every day, draw an item from Pinkerton. If the item qualifies as a sign from Mother, then your flesh has been touched with plague and you have passed your first trial. The items that qualify as signs from Mother depend on the difficulty level you’ve chosen.'[/i][/size][/font][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]Mask failed his focus test today. I have a few days piled up and he somehow managed to fail all of them. The Higher and Lower challenges have been like this: FR Site: "3 :)" Me: "Oh, easy! Higher!" FR: "2 :)" 11 and 12, 3 and 2... the universe (and random numbers) conspire against this poor gentleman. [/size][/font] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wXtSdWi.png[/img][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/SjLfhfh.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][color=#990000][size=7]Mask Day 6[/font][/size][/color][/center] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/93529500][img]https://i.imgur.com/RhBICN8.png[/img][/url][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]He wasn't talking to himself, yet, despite having two heads. He probably wasn't far off it. But for now, Mask struggled, and failed, to remain focused on his meditation. He hadn't doubted himself to this point, and still didn't, though given his passing through all the stages of "what's happening," he might eventually have gotten there. For now, though, he was stuck on irritation, a growing frustration that left him further unable to concentrate whatsoever. Every time he tried to think about plague, about survival of the fittest, his mind wandered to why he wasn't becoming infected. That would cycle back to feeding into his frustration, spiking his fidgeting again, and then he'd take note and try to focus on meditating again, and... About midday he gave up for awhile, a sigh escaping both heads as he pushed up from his perch. It was a short flight down to the edge of the Wyrmwound, where he sat for a time, staring down at where bubbling epidemics-in-waiting disrupted what would have been a mirror of his faces. Nothing in particular was on his mind, just a vague unease and discontentment, and eventually he turned and scrounged for food, instead. There was a patch along the northwestern rim, just north of where he was, that had a little pustulent fluid leaking (and reeking) into a puddle just outside it. Here he found a small creature of some kind. It looked like it'd come from the Wound itself, given the bizarre nature of it: like a cephalopod but with mismatched legs numbering far too many, the suckers lined with teeth. He shrugged, and ate it. Food was food. If Mother wished to provide, he would not say no. And if it were infected (which undoubtedly it was), he'd be glad to finally take on his Trial. When he felt nothing, not even a fever, by nightfall he grumbled and curled up to sleep. [i]'This is going nowhere,'[/i] he thought, and his other head agreed: [i]'and we don't know why.'[/i] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mBVXuev.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][size=4][b]Trial of Infection[/b][/size][/font] [font=cambria][size=3]The dragon has 13 days to develop an infection as a sign from the Plaguebringer that they are worthy. Day 6/13[/center][/size][/font] [center][font=cambria][size=3][i]'Every day, draw an item from Pinkerton. If the item qualifies as a sign from Mother, then your flesh has been touched with plague and you have passed your first trial. The items that qualify as signs from Mother depend on the difficulty level you’ve chosen.'[/i][/size][/font][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]Mask failed his focus test today. Like I said, have a few rolls queued up, ready to write. I usually am online and get the checks in, even if I don't have time (or inspiration) to write that day, so here we are... with (checks notes) three more fails to write, if we include today's. Fails on Higher/Lower, specifically. Man. [/size][/font] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wXtSdWi.png[/img][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/SjLfhfh.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][color=#990000][size=7]Mask Day 7[/font][/size][/color][/center] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/93529500][img]https://i.imgur.com/RhBICN8.png[/img][/url][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]It was all he could do to keep from throwing caution to the wind and simply marching to the Wyrmwound now. His heads talked it over, vehemently but not so much so as to qualify it as an argument, not really. One head fielded the idea, and both of them agreed that it'd be foolish. [b]"It is our patience being tested, I think. As much as anything else."[/b] [b]"Making it harder for ourselves won't make it easier. Just faster."[/b] [b]"Well, no."[/b] [b]"You know what I [i]mean.[/i]"[/b] [b]"Yes. If there is no sign this time-..."[/b] [b]"After the full period of days. If there is no sign [i]then,[/i]"[/b] [b]"-then we assume She wishes us to take the hardest road."[/b] In agreement, they tried to return to meditations, though their thoughts once more wandered. The more Mask lost focus, the more frustrated he became, and then meditation was even more difficult, as before. He tried to apply his keen mind (or minds, really) to the problem, seeking some solution, but any answers eluded him. If anything, focusing on [i]that,[/i] instead, was even further distraction, so that he noted unhappily when the day fell into darkness. [b]"Still haven't meditated, today."[/b] [b]"There is always tomorrow,"[/b] his other head reassured him, but after the last few days, it felt a hollow promise. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mBVXuev.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][size=4][b]Trial of Infection[/b][/size][/font] [font=cambria][size=3]The dragon has 13 days to develop an infection as a sign from the Plaguebringer that they are worthy. Day 7/13[/center][/size][/font] [center][font=cambria][size=3][i]'Every day, draw an item from Pinkerton. If the item qualifies as a sign from Mother, then your flesh has been touched with plague and you have passed your first trial. The items that qualify as signs from Mother depend on the difficulty level you’ve chosen.'[/i][/size][/font][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]Mask failed his focus test today. Shock, I know. Bet you didn't see it coming. [/size][/font] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wXtSdWi.png[/img][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/SjLfhfh.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][color=#990000][size=7]Mask Day 8[/font][/size][/color][/center] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/93529500][img]https://i.imgur.com/RhBICN8.png[/img][/url][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]Day Eight of the third Trial attempt found Mask, indeed, talking to himself. It wasn't the regular sort of quiet conversation, or even screeching argument, an Aberration might have. It was, instead, distinctly a result of stress: the snapping argument, the pacing, the rage-filled glances at the Wyrmwound. Well, maybe 'rage' was strong. But frustration had certainly been stoked higher, embers crackling into something more like little flames, something that—were they to be left untended—might well flare up to consume him. [b]"But we are [i]strong![/i]"[/b] [b]"We KNOW that!"[/b] [b]"This—it does not make [i]sense![/i]"[/b] [b]"We do not need to see every reason for everything! It-"[/b] [b]"There is no reason for it! None good enough! One wishes to serve, and they say She can see if you are worthy—then why the test at all?! If She has deemed us unworthy-"[/b] [b]"That might save lives,"[/b] the other head reasoned. Mask was pacing, claws throwing up clods of rank and dripping dirt behind him as he marched to and fro. Unconscious snarls lined the face of the more angry head, the one that had assumed the emotions of frustration; the other, as if automatically serving as a foil, was arguing the point of the voice of reason. [b]"And maybe she can't see our [i]physical[/i] ability. Or magical, anyway. If-"[/b] [b]"If she can see our [i]faith,[/i] then why test it at all!?"[/b] the one head snapped, and the anger in that head's eyes left the other one quailing back, a little. Mask grunted, and turned away from himself. Yet the quieter head spoke more softly. [b]"Are we..? Are we faithful?"[/b] [b]"No. But we are loyal."[/b] This was cold, succinct. Matter-of-fact. Mask knew he wasn't the hyper-spiritual sort. He wasn't taking these Trials as a matter of slobbering, begging dedication. Some of the Necromancers might be a cult, grovelling over scraps and promises, but plenty were practical in nature. The part of Mask that [i]was[/i] faithful honestly believed that would be what Plaguebringer would prefer. Whining hounds had their use, but self-sufficient, deadly armies with true loyalty-? [i]Those[/i] were truly worthwhile. He sighed, looking out as the sun drifted downward to the rim of the Wyrmwound, and settled in again. He did his best to focus, to calm his irritation, to concentrate on that 'why': the [i]why[/i] he was doing this, at all. Because it wasn't faith, or spiritual belief. It was a desire to serve something he believed in, that he truly [i]did[/i] believe in, after growing as strong as he possibly could. He wanted the power, not to wield it for himself, but to proudly stand as a soldier of the Plague flight, weaving his great strength and cunning into the very fabric of history. [i]'Well. I can't do that distracted, so... I had better focus.'[/i] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mBVXuev.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][size=4][b]Trial of Infection[/b][/size][/font] [font=cambria][size=3]The dragon has 13 days to develop an infection as a sign from the Plaguebringer that they are worthy. Day 8/13[/center][/size][/font] [center][font=cambria][size=3][i]'Every day, draw an item from Pinkerton. If the item qualifies as a sign from Mother, then your flesh has been touched with plague and you have passed your first trial. The items that qualify as signs from Mother depend on the difficulty level you’ve chosen.'[/i][/size][/font][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]Mask failed his focus test today. [/size][/font] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wXtSdWi.png[/img][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/SjLfhfh.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][color=#990000][size=7]Mask Day 9[/font][/size][/color][/center] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/93529500][img]https://i.imgur.com/RhBICN8.png[/img][/url][/center] [font=cambria][size=3][i]Nothing.[/i] He had become used to nothing. Never had a dragon so cursed his own good health. At least he was focused, again. Concentration had settled from seething impatience into smoldering calm. He had, at last and with intense, concerted efforts from both heads in tandem, managed to turn his thoughts back to his meditations. He thought over how death shaped life by culling its weak, how the strong became the new generation. He mulled over the philosophies of interference, of when tampering with the natural order might be justified. Deliberately, he moved his mind from point to point, dwelling on each until he began to lose focus, and then moving on. Over the course of long hours he reopened the pages of all the tomes of memory that lay in his mind, all the teachings he'd swallowed down so eagerly over the period of his learning, his training. It was good meditation, if nothing else. Perhaps tomorrow would have more to show for it. But at least when he curled up to sleep, that evening, he did not feel so unfulfilled. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mBVXuev.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][size=4][b]Trial of Infection[/b][/size][/font] [font=cambria][size=3]The dragon has 13 days to develop an infection as a sign from the Plaguebringer that they are worthy. Day 9/13[/center][/size][/font] [center][font=cambria][size=3][i]'Every day, draw an item from Pinkerton. If the item qualifies as a sign from Mother, then your flesh has been touched with plague and you have passed your first trial. The items that qualify as signs from Mother depend on the difficulty level you’ve chosen.'[/i][/size][/font][/center] [center][item=Giant Kelp][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]Mask passed today's test, but did not get a sign from Mother. [/size][/font] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wXtSdWi.png[/img][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/SjLfhfh.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][color=#990000][size=7]THE DIRECTORS [/size][size=5]Introduction[/font][/size][/color][/center] [center][item=black king][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]The black Banescale at the head of the group flared her wings. The setting sun shone like blood through the crimson that streaked them, and the cruelty in her expression was clear as she snapped her gaze back at the others who lagged behind her. [b]"Hurry up,"[/b] she growled. Marble, the white Snapper at the head of the others seemed unperturbed. [b]"We won't be [i]late,[/i] Malice."[/b] She was peaceful, as always, the multitude of red eyes along her flanks blinking contentedly as she waddled for the Wyrmwound's edge. By her side the little white Veilspun Letharus, ever-churning with visible flickers of contagion, clung close. His nose was in the air, though, his mouth curved into a frown, and they could all tell it wouldn't be long until he resumed complaining about something or other. Before them walked Ukha; the leopard-spotted Mirror was keen-eyed, and had only just landed from a scouting trip. And a little ways behind, Malice's own servant, the dark red Mirror Redfang. The little monster was as savage as she was, but wisely deferential to her, and right now he didn't say a word but to snarl at the others as if to reinforce her warning. She growled again, and this time the sound was half a sigh, with exasperation thick in it. [b]"Take all night, then. Suit yourselves."[/b] With a single flap she was off again, tipping back to take a thermal, soaring neatly for the Wyrmwound itself. Redfang clumsily raced to catch up, a stumbling gallop turning into a hasty flapping. Behind him, Ukha snorted a laugh. [b]"They're eager to get started on doing nothing for the night,"[/b] she observed, and Marble's good-natured laugh was twinned by Letharus's coldly mocking one. [b]"Impatient to die,"[/b] he sniffed. [b]"Neither of them has the patience for the Trials. And I doubt either has the power."[/b] Marble hummed. [b]"Don't be so quick to count them out. And remember, we are allies. Like it or not."[/b] The dragon's voice was always one of reason, always considered and calm. [b]"They are only eager to spread Her gifts across the lands,"[/b] she added, the light of the faithful filling her far too many eyes.[/size][/font] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mBVXuev.png[/img][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]The following five dragons were rolled up using various chess pieces thrown into Baldwin to determine eye type. They are determined to shape the future of the Necromancers and to make their names spreading Mother's plagues across the lands, and though their motives vary, they have gradually formed into a cohesive unit of, generally, manipulative jerks. They imagine themselves the Directors of the future, playing a long-lasting game with Sornieth's politics that will—they hope—bear fruit for generations to come. [columns][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/94202092][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/942021/94202092.png[/img][/url][nextcol][color=transparent]|[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][size=3][b]Malice[/b] Uncommon Eyes [i](advantage in first trial)[/i] A ferocious Banescale with little patience to match her immense ambition, Malice makes no bones about her making her desires known and pursuing them with ferocity. Her desire is to dominate, spread Plaguebringer's gifts, and rise to the top of Her forces. Leading Plague's armies is where she sees herself; and who's going to tell her 'no?' [i]Malice will be using the unconfirmed Banescale Ancient rules for the Trial.[/i][nextcol][color=transparent]|[/color][nextcol][item=Black Queen][/columns] [columns][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/94568321][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/945684/94568321.png[/img][/url][nextcol][color=transparent]|[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][size=3][b]Redfang[/b] Faceted Eyes [i](major advantage in the first Trial)[/i] Redfang is, on the surface, a snivelling henchman of a dragon who exists only to assure Malice of his loyalty and to do her bidding whenever she demands it. There's few who think he has much mind of his own; most assume he will end up as her Necroservus or, more likely, a ghoul or wraith at her beck and call. In truth, he's a cunning little rat of a dragon. He is as much a genius and manipulator as any of the rest, and by nature is dignified, well-spoken and cold. His cringing mannerisms and wheedling voice are all affectation: a perfect act to put Malice as a shield between him and the world. He wishes to rise in power and depose her, given time, or even use her as his own servant, while rising in Necromancer status.[nextcol][color=transparent]|[/color][nextcol][item=Black Pawn][/columns] [columns][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/94638267][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/946383/94638267.png[/img][/url][nextcol][color=transparent]|[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][size=3][b]Marble[/b] Multi-Gaze[i] (major advantage in second trial)[/i] Marble is a very typical Snapper: unhurried, traditional, and calm. She's reasonable and generally kind, which might seem at wild odds with the gentle joy she gets from inflicting horrific contagion on innocent creatures. To her, this is a wondrous gift: the sharing of Mother's proving. Her reasons for taking the Trial are simple, unshakeable, spiritual faith in Plaguebringer, and a desire to do Her will.[nextcol][color=transparent]|[/color][nextcol][item=White Queen][/columns] [columns][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/94488379][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/944884/94488379.png[/img][/url][nextcol][color=transparent]|[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][size=3][b]Letharus[/b] Uncommon Eyes [i](advantage in second trial)[/i] An incredibly vain dragon, Letharus is obsessed with his beautiful white color and flawless form. He is also a dragon who feels he deserves all the creature comforts he can procure, including the finest of foods, drink, silk and velvet cushions, and various other luxuries. He believes himself to be draconic royalty, and surely that places him first in line for Necromancer success. Should he succeed, he will undoubtedly attempt to assume various leadership roles, pushing for Council recognition and the like; but few dragons who know him think he can survive the Trials' hardships. [i]Letharus will be using regular, not Veilspun, rules for the Trial as he is the only Veilspun present.[/i][nextcol][color=transparent]|[/color][nextcol][item=White King][/columns] [columns][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/94167656][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/941677/94167656.png[/img][nextcol][color=transparent]|[/color][nextcol][font=cambria][size=3][b]Ukha[/b] Unusual Eyes [i](advantage in second trial)[/i] Ukha is easygoing, for a Mirror. She's almost catlike in her contentment and her patience, and surprisingly for a Mirror she is less a savage mauler and more a stalking ambush predator when on the hunt. She's quick with a joke or word of support to her allies, or a teasing rejoinder to an opponent. She is almost maternal in her dealings with other dragons, looking after them with kindness. She follows Marble, but would make a good leader in her own right. Hers is a quiet faith, and she desires to be a healer: able to manipulate pathogens to cure the faithful or to sicken the enemies of the Plague flight.[nextcol][color=transparent]|[/color][nextcol][/url][item=White Pawn][/columns] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wXtSdWi.png[/img][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/SjLfhfh.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][color=#990000][size=7]THE DIRECTORS [/size][size=5]Day 1[/font][/size][/color][/center] [center][item=black king][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]As the three dragons began to take their places along the very edges of the Wyrmwound hours later, they noticed that Malice and Redfang had gone quite a bit farther along the rim. [b]"Who are they trying to impress..?"[/b] Marble muttered, puzzled. For all Malice's impatience, the Banescale seemed to have gone out of her way to add more travel time to her journey. Ukha glanced up and out, and shook her head. [b]"The sun'll be coming up soon. Day one, and all that. I've no idea what they're up to, though."[/b] [b]"And we would be wasting our time,"[/b] Letharus added, [b]"trying to figure it out. So let us begin, hmm?"[/b] He sniffed, a deliberate scoff, and twisted his tiny body away. He looked barely more than a white moth lit on the sickly earth, here, the constant strange haze shifting and drifting around his scales. [b]"They are brutes. Barbarians. They-... What... What are they doing?"[/b] he asked. His voice had changed tone so abruptly—from exasperation to horror—that the other two snapped their attention to the two dragons in the distance. The Banescale had reared back, her back to the Wyrmwound, and her sudden shrieking roar could be heard reverberating across the now-silent landscape. Redfang cowered before her, then turned and fled, tail low. He was bounding straight back for the rest of the group, even going so far as to take what looked like panicked flight. [b]"They fighting, you think?"[/b] Ukha wondered aloud. As the trio watched, now more bemused than worried, Malice seemed to lose her balance. A sudden flap, a twist, and she went over backward with a more muffled screech. This screech was abruptly cut off, and the dragons' hearts twisted back to horror, all three half-standing as if they could somehow save her. But she'd already gone over, tipping backward, wings flailing and failing to catch herself as she plunged spine-first directly into the diseased waters of the Wyrmwound. [b]"Oh, [i]Mother,"[/i][/b] Marble murmured, eyes wide all down her body. Ukha swore softly, and Letharus was for once stunned into silence. Even Redfang, still quite far off, had halted midair, turning and settling down after a moment's hesitation to stare back at his mistress. What clawed out a few moments later was hardly recognizable as Malice. There were contorted parts of her body twisting and sprouting claws; extra fangs jutted from her jaws, as though a viper had emerged there. New eyes opened and flashed across her body, not unlike Marble's. She was monstrous, horrific, and to the Plague dragons she was in her own way magnificent. When she took wing, an agonized roar ringing out across the terrain, all of them flinched. Redfang was fleeing back toward them again now, this time as fast as he could fly. Even from here they could see the gleam of his eyes, rounded in terror. Behind him, Malice began to head their way, too; or maybe she was giving chase. The three dragons tensed, just as Redfang crashed past them, panting and panicked. [b]"She fell,"[/b] he stammered, unsure as to what to say, and the others nodded. [b]"We saw,"[/b] Marble assured him, but they had no more time to talk, because Malice was winging her way over the last hundred yards between them. All of them were ready to fight, but none moved, unsure as to what she intended. And as she drew closer, they could see her ongoing mutation. They'd always said Mother would reach for her first, and so she had: tentacles had begun to form from her scales, her jaw splitting into three, her horns twisting back like branches. Her screeching cackle was triumphant but thick with pain, and as she tried to land before them, her twisted and malformed legs somehow missed the ground and pitched her face-first into the dirt. [b]"I AM-"[/b] she gurgled, and then she was choking, flailing on the dirt. [b]"CHOSEN-..."[/b] Behind them, Redfang swore softly, prowling back behind the rest as if for protection. [b]"I HAVE FALLEN... INTO THE WO..."[/b] [i]'Wound,'[/i] maybe she'd wanted to say, but it choked into a twisted, grating growl. She continued as if she'd finished her sentence. [b]"BUT I RIIIIISE!"[/b] At this she reared back, impressive wingspan reaching for either horizon. It was not intimidating, though. It was frightening in its own way, but only because of the feverish madness that already lit her gaze after only seconds of exposure to the Wyrmwound. Then she fell backward, again, gracelessly tumbling into the dirt, coughing and twitching weakly. [b][i]"I... rii... iisee...."[/i][/b] But she did not rise, and in fact stopped moving almost altogether, bar wretched little cries of pain. When she did not at first move, it was Marble to murmur something and step forward, peering down. She prodded with a foot, and Malice's answering choke told her what she needed to know. A single strike from an immensely heavy, armored front foot ended it. [b]"Mother has made her decision here clear enough,"[/b] Marble said softly, without elaborating. Then she turned, making her way a little farther down the coast of the putrid lake. [b]"Let's move on."[/b] The others exchanged glances, and then followed. They were silent, subdued with shock at this sudden death. Deaths were expected among the ill-prepared and the weak, but among them..? And so [i]immediately?[/i] It was a poor omen, and all of them knew it. So they trudged away, and left the lump of what had once been a dragon far behind them. [b]"What were you arguing about?"[/b] asked Letharus at last, trying to dispel the miserable silence. Redfang fired him an empty stare. [b]"She wanted to step foot inside the Wyrmwound. Wanted us both to,"[/b] he clarified. [b]"I... disagreed. I suppose it didn't matter in the end."[/b] He looked forward, distinctly morose, and none of them pressed it further. [b]"If we have only one death,"[/b] Marble declared, at last, [b]"then we would be immensely lucky indeed."[/b] [/size][/font] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mBVXuev.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][size=4][b]Trial of Infection[/b][/size][/font] [font=cambria][size=3]The dragon has 13 days to develop an infection as a sign from the Plaguebringer that they are worthy. Day 1/13[/center][/size][/font] [center][item=Tar-Trap Flightshroud][item=Gelatinous Orb][item=Weirdly-Written Textscroll][item=Dirt-Covered Tile][item=Miniature Potash Peach][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]Wow. Okay. SO. The items are for the dragons, in the order they were rolled. To note, on Hard mode (which this Trial is being played on) a bone-themed item could mean death. That's for Malice. I had to throw an apparel item into Baldwin's pot. A [b]Grey[/b] slime result would mean that the dragon dies. Any other color means a mutation has been triggered in the dragon, allowing them to take Multigaze and—if the item is an apparel piece, which this is—passing to the next Trial.[/size][/font] [center][item=black slime][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]So Day 1, she heads into the Coliseum, after [i]another[/i] Apparel piece chucked into the pot to determine the nature of her Faith/Determination dragons. [/size][/font] [center][item=grey slime][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]This meant one magical, one physical-oriented dragon. I got them set up, headed into the Coliseum, and-... she immediately got knocked out. A string of crits to the face, you know how it is. Soooo that meant time to pray to Mother for her fate. Which-... means another apparel piece. (This was, by now, getting expensive.) Black slime = continue the trial with Dark Sclera option for later; White Slime = the dragon is saved but fails, becoming a Wraith; Grey Slime indicates they have died.[/size][/font] [center][item=grey slime][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]Speedrun 33% world record (F) [b]Malice has failed her Trial, and perished.[/b][/size][/font] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wXtSdWi.png[/img][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/SjLfhfh.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][color=#990000][size=7]Mask Day 10[/font][/size][/color][/center] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/93529500][img]https://i.imgur.com/RhBICN8.png[/img][/url][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]Mask's newfound focus lasted for all of a single day. The next found him again fidgeting, and eventually abandoning his post altogether in favor of scrounging for food and water. He got in a fight with one of those irritating bone-vultures that tried to challenge him for some unidentifiable carcass (it wasn't another dragon, at least) and came away from it with a few scrapes. At first he hoped the stupid bird would have infected him, but no such luck. When he tried to settle back in he noticed a group of dragons very far distant. They looked to him like fellow trialgoers, but there was no point crossing and speaking to them. It wouldn't help him any and if anything, it might actually distract him further. Or they might be aggressive, somehow. Better to stay alone for the time being. He fell asleep without intending to some time around midday and woke at dusk, having accomplished almost nothing in the way of meditation. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mBVXuev.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][size=4][b]Trial of Infection[/b][/size][/font] [font=cambria][size=3]The dragon has 13 days to develop an infection as a sign from the Plaguebringer that they are worthy. Day 10/13[/center][/size][/font] [center][font=cambria][size=3][i]'Every day, draw an item from Pinkerton. If the item qualifies as a sign from Mother, then your flesh has been touched with plague and you have passed your first trial. The items that qualify as signs from Mother depend on the difficulty level you’ve chosen.'[/i][/size][/font][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]Mask failed today's focus test. Oddly, it seems like I'm losing almost all Higher or Lowers I play at the moment. It used to be almost a guaranteed, easy win, but everything's either a 6 or 7 (so it could go either way) or it's a 3 that ends up with a 2, or a 11 that ends up with a 12... you get what I mean. If Mask hits day 13 with no sign, he's coming back on Hard mode. [/size][/font] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wXtSdWi.png[/img][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/SjLfhfh.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][color=#990000][size=7]THE DIRECTORS [/size][size=5]Day 2[/font][/size][/color][/center] [center][item=black king][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]Their first day was mostly spent settling in. The sudden death of Malice still hung with them like a cloud, dark and depressing. None were particularly cheerful after that, even if no one had been especially close to her. She hadn't been an easy dragon to [i]get[/i] close to, for that matter, but not a single one of them had doubted her success. Every one had expected to see her in a year or two as Advocating Councillor, dominating arguments primarily by scream-roaring the loudest. She'd been threatening, fearless, ferocious—and now she was gone, forever. None of them broached the topic with Redfang, who kept to himself. The Mirror, for his part, was [i]acting[/i] disturbed but in reality he was scrambling to form a new plan. He wasn't the brute beast he generally pretended to be, the one others [i]expected[/i] him to be (and ahh, wasn't it wonderful to be underestimated entirely?). But he'd planned to use Malice as a face for his voice, to be the brains safely behind her shielding wings. Now that she was dead, he had to find a new puppet, or find his own way. The latter meant either dropping the facade he'd been cultivating for so long, or fumbling forward only [i]pretending[/i] to stumble into success, hopefully repeatedly. That latter sounded incredibly unlikely and stupid, to him, but at the same time it would probably be hilarious to see how long he could string it out before somebody [i]finally[/i] realized. He'd gone off around midmorning to 'mourn' at Malice's body. In reality he'd been attempting to infect himself with a smidge of what had absolutely ravaged her form. Nothing had taken, and for now he couldn't see any other way to force an infection bar jumping right into the Wyrmwound himself. Which, needless to say, he was not doing. When he returned, he looked down and away from the sympathetic glances the others thought he wouldn't see. He pretended to look appropriately downcast and upset. (He'd never liked Malice whatsoever, in truth.) They didn't speak of it directly, but they were gentler with him today, and maybe he could use that later. [b]"Let us pray, some,"[/b] Letharus suggested abruptly. Marble straightened, nodding. They'd all been meditating, dedicated to their cause, throughout the day and now she (easily the most faithful of them all) took the reins. She and Malice had always locked horns when it came to leadership, or rather Malice had chafed and insisted upon leading while Marble had followed and given the real suggestions to guide them. Now, with no challenge, she led and the rest fell into place. [b]"Mother, we are here to do your bidding,"[/b] she began, her voice raising with tremulous emotion. She was a believer, through and through. [b]"Grant us your touch, that we may begin your Trials. Allow us to prove our strength, and our will and power to survive, that we may turn that power to serving you..."[/b] She went on, praying aloud for some time, speaking of the fall of the weak and the reign of the strong; the rule of Plague and death as the driving force behind life itself. The rest listened with various intensities of their own faith. Letharus stared off over the Wyrmwound, rapt in the prayer, with unflinching dedication. Ukha's mind was half on the meditation, and half lost to faint grief; she hadn't adored Malice, but nor did she wish to see any of them dead, their group broken into nothing. And Redfang struggled to feel something, anything, from the prayer, as his mind kept wandering toward [i]what to do next.[/i] As they came to a finish, Ukha spoke softly, having noticed something in the meantime. [b]"I didn't want to disrupt,"[/b] she said, [b]"but there's another dragon over there."[/b] None of them could see it, though they tried. Her heat vision left the stranger in shimmering lines off along the western side of the Wyrmwound. [b]"An Aberration. I think."[/b] [b]"Is it taking the Trial?"[/b] Marble asked, peering off but seeing nothing past the haze. [b]"I think so. They're not moving, anyway. ...They might actually be asleep where they're sitting, by looks,"[/b] she added, half-worried and half-amused. His kind was known for losing focus, but then again, he might have been sickened and fighting off death itself in that moment. [b]"Well,"[/b] Marble said, and considered. [b]"Let us wish them luck."[/b] [/size][/font] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mBVXuev.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][size=4][b]Trial of Infection[/b][/size][/font] [font=cambria][size=3]The dragon has 13 days to develop an infection as a sign from the Plaguebringer that they are worthy. Day 2/13[/center][/size][/font] [center][item=Sharp-Eyed Ring][item=Weirdly-Scrawled Missive][item=Bonewood Branch][item=Earthshaker Stone Statue][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]No signs today. Weirdly, though, Marble got an almost identical item—but not quite—as her drop. Weirdly-Scrawled Missive, as opposed to Weirdly-Written Textscroll. That probably means something significant. Or not. I also decided to try my hand at pushing Redfang straight to Trial 2 with his Faceted Eye ability, in part because it seemed super in-character to attempt (like a sad repeat of Austin, really, after losing his closest ally in each case) and in part to stagger out Coliseum stuff. I figured if he got through it before the others got a sign, one way or another, it'd be less Coliseum to mess with each day. He failed on round one of Higher/Lower, so his Eye benefit is now spent without... well, benefit. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wXtSdWi.png[/img][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/SjLfhfh.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][color=#990000][size=7]Mask Day 11[/font][/size][/color][/center] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/93529500][img]https://i.imgur.com/RhBICN8.png[/img][/url][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]The eleventh day of Mask's third trial attempt was spent meditating. Earlier on, right before dawn (and after a few hours' deep sleep) his wandering thoughts had flicked back to Tusk and Leech. The 'what if they could see me now' sort of wondering had felt... chiding, really. To have them stumble on him frustrated and unable to focus? Embarrassing. He'd straightened, after that, forcing his mind with all his discipline back into meditation. The silhouettes of the other, distant dragons were also a sort of pressure to stay focused. He didn't want to be visibly messing up his trial beneath so many other eyes. He was already fairly sure that he would get no sign, here. That Plaguebringer (insert several rather insulting thoughts toward Her, here) would wait until he was trying again, right at the edge of the Wyrmwound, as a [i]true[/i] test. That, or if it were a test of his focus, she might grant him a chance to prove himself on the final day of [i]this[/i] trial. Either one seemed likely, to him. Either way, he expected no infection today—and he was right; he didn't get one. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mBVXuev.png[/img][/center] [center][font=cambria][size=4][b]Trial of Infection[/b][/size][/font] [font=cambria][size=3]The dragon has 13 days to develop an infection as a sign from the Plaguebringer that they are worthy. Day 11/13[/center][/size][/font] [center][font=cambria][size=3][i]'Every day, draw an item from Pinkerton. If the item qualifies as a sign from Mother, then your flesh has been touched with plague and you have passed your first trial. The items that qualify as signs from Mother depend on the difficulty level you’ve chosen.'[/i][/size][/font][/center] [center][item=construction armor][/center] [font=cambria][size=3]Mask succeeded today's Focus test, but received no Sign. Speaking of which, I re-read the rules and had missed/forgotten one part: [i]'Distracted Aberrations who have attempted the trials at least once before have gained some experience and earned an advantage in staying on task. If this is your Aberrations second+ attempt at taking the trials you may play two rounds of Higher or Lower and only need a single success to stay on task. If your Aberration is already a Necromancer, you may play three rounds of Higher or Lower and only need a single success to stay on task.'[/i] While he wouldn't have gotten a sign, anyway (I think) at any point, it's good to know that I can roll twice for him... especially once I get to the second and third Trials! [/size][/font] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wXtSdWi.png[/img][/center]