Quests & Challenges

[pinglist=41087] Achernar is complete! ... And (Dec 6) I guess I have some serious muse for Jnanin... [color=#ff9a00][size=4][b]Bio[/b][/size][/color] Achernar was born in the Shrieking Wilds and that is all that he knows of his past. From as far back as he remembers (which is not so far at all) he has been a vicious creature of the vibrant wilds. Being a sapient creature with language and culture is very new for him. Much of his life before was simply eating, sleeping, hunting, surviving. Any dragon that showed itself near him was not recognized as 'his kind' but as a territorial threat that was swiftly dealt with (or fled from when they proved too strong.) Primal and free was how the coatl lived, cut off from his true and full nature. Until a multi-clan contingent came along to deal with the feral threat to the nearby clans. They hunted him down despite his deadly nature and skills and finally cornered him in his own hidden lair. They would have put down the hissing, spitting, insect-swarmed monster but for the Mystborne Conclave representatives. They, in their eccentricity, saw an opportunity for experimentation and the potential for a new and unique voice to add to the Conclave in their new tidal home. The Guardian Amateria subdued him and dragged him back, where the curious dragons there managed to tame a dragon out of the monster. Their successes were known to an interested few - both those trying to escape their primal nature, and those hoping to embrace it. Achernar didn't care. He learned language. He received a name. He found satisfaction in an important role in the clan. He learned the comfort of being part of a dragon 'flock' - or at least having the option, since he still favored solitude... and that's exactly as far as he wanted to go. He is content with where he is - an emotion that he never knew as a wild beast. He understands the world around him in both a primal way and in the way of a civilized creature. He has his solitude, and companionship (at a distance) if he wishes. He has purpose and the ability to ask questions. He has the songs of his people and his own songs, too. To him, in his feral heart, he has everything. [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/827780][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/8278/827780.png[/img][/url][/center] [color=#DAA520][b]Spire | [i]Lightborn Mentor[/i][/b][/color] While there are many Lightborn members of the Mystborne Conclave, and they have close relationships with clans in the Sunbeam Ruins, Jnanin sees Spire as his mentor in understanding the flight he has chosen to adopt. Part of it is because of Spire's accessibility and knowledge of everything in the library (and some out of it,) but, perhaps instinctively, Jnanin is drawn to Spire as a fellow aberration - a dragon that is forced to contend with conflicting identities, and a calling towards a flight that is neither of his parents or of his current clan. Jnanin doesn't know Spire's life or struggles, they aren't that close personally, but he has enough hints to know that Spire is a kindred spirit in enough of a way to give advice, and Jnanin listens. [color=#DAA520][size=4][b]Familiar: Duxian the Light Gryphon[/b][/size][/color] Duxian claims to Jnanin that it is a guide sent by the Lightbringer, directing him to a glorious fate and a reward for his service. Jnanin wants to believe that, but he is skeptical. Still, he is intrigued and has decided to follow the gryphon's guidance for now... and if there is treachery, Jnanin, in the spirit of the Conclave, will take advantage of it and forge a path wholly his own. What the gryphon will do then, who knows... [color=#DAA520][size=4][b]Other Facts[/b][/size][/color] [LIST] [*][emoji=light rune size=1] Jnanin is no longer a spy for the Light Flight. His loyalty to the Conclave is total. He does, however, have a decent relationship with any emissaries from Light, and often talks to them. He is very careful not to be pulled in, but will that awareness be enough to keep him from falling into a bad situation? [*][emoji=lightning rune size=1] Jnanin's family thinks he is dead, and he has no desire to tell them otherwise. He is sure that they are ashamed of him, but unbeknownst to him, they are still trying to find his body, desperate to give him the proper burial rites and prevent him from the horrible fate of becoming an emperor dragon. They grieve him terribly. [*][emoji=light rune size=1] Jnanin doesn't have a job in the clan, not anything specific anyway. He hangs around, does things where called to, fights for the clan when necessary, argues in the great debate halls, and participates fully, but he isn't really "doing" anything in particular. He's not particularly interested in research other than his own aims, and isn't always up for helping. He's doing his own thing in a clan that doesn't mind. Sometimes, due to his lightning heritage, he feels bad about not being extremely productive. Maybe he burnt out? He does like to have informed opinions, and in that, he works very hard to be at least above average. He does very well. [*][emoji=lightning rune size=1]Jnanin is an otherwise unremarkable dragon without anything special about him capability-wise. He's average (for an imperial) and on some level, that's comforting. Still, occasionally, he does want more, and he looks into it from time to time, but even there, he is average... perhaps that will change. One big exception is that he will follow his opinions to their conclusion and is a skilled debator - always seeking to become better at that in particular. Will it spread elsewhere? [/LIST] [color=#DAA520][size=4][b]Personality[/b][/size][/color] Jnanin can seem like an inconsistent dragon. On the one hand, he is driven to seek the truth, stubborn, and an experienced debator. He is happy to participate in clan life and a well known member. On the other hand, he is average and comfortable, not really going to extremes or having a particular or intense passion like many members of the conclave. He has his interest and his opinions, and he can care a decent amount, but for the most part, he does his own thing and goes his own way. The truth is, he is very passionate but he is in a serious period of burnout. Burnt out from lightning, burnt out from light, burnt out from expectations. He isn't a match for his windborn parents, but at this time, he is following the philosophy of going with the flow and seeing where it takes him, albeit with a few wingbeats. He may be nearing the end of a period of recovery, but it's changed him, like the sometimes fast-changing winds of both his savannah and ocean homelands. He's not one to force that stance on others, but in contrast, he speaks up in the debates of the Conclave to defend the ideals of truth and the purity of discussion. Perhaps he is one of the purest members of the Conclave, there for the sake of discussion, coming with a firm but open mind. A few know of his interest in the light flight, but even this has suffered during his period of fatigue - however, as a gryphon whispers in his ear, he has felt the spark of passion stirring within him again. And in the Conclave, strange thoughts and ideas can arise and be nutured, and even brought to life by the infinite creativity of the Arcane-founded clan... In short, Jnanin is an outwardly chill, inwardly exhausted, overall thoughtful dragon who holds debate itself - as the way to truth - as the highest ideal. [color=#DAA520][size=4][b]You Walk Up To This Dragon[/b][/size][/color] In the great debate hall of the Conclave, you think you are bucking the trend of the chronically time-blind Mystborne Conclave by arriving to the newest debate early - only to find that a giant grey and blue imperial is there before you! He is sitting up straight, his coiled body elegant and dressed in pale cloth. Despite his attire seeming to be stereotypically that of Light, his eyes are initially closed, but open to reveal the vivid turquoise of the lightning flight. They are hard to read, but he seems calm. He gives you an acknowledging nod. "Have you picked your position on the topic at hand yet?" he asks in a deep basso rumble, his words clipped and efficient like some from the Lightning homeland, though he is much more polite and patient, seemingly. "I am still considering it." He smiles. "Since we have the time, shall we have a warm-up discussion? I need to run through my points on the issue, and I'd like to hear your insight."

Light (Scholarly and Artifacts): 70 Mith Spellbook 4 Mith Lorebook 5 Sage Shell 1 Illuminated Dubia Roach 2 Ice (Prison and Fluff): 74 Sharp Sticks 2 Pointy Sticks 2 Pre Packaged Snack 2 Sharp-eyed ring 3 Wrapped Morsel 4 Jelly Jewel Basket 2 Chilled Edamame 4 Watchful Viper 1 [b]Hunted Items[/b] Dragonfruit: 3 Regal Firefish: Rolly-Poly: 3 Goat: 3 Other Items Jolly Mushroom Cap White Rot Deer *** December 5, Day 14: Forgot what I used, so we’re using Higher or Lower! And nightjar! Spire and [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/98714544]Sinkdeep[/url] and [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/98714542]Nightbreach[/url] in the Silk Strewn Wreckage today! I am going to write his story and then edit it down and then he'll be DONE. And yes, I'm mad about [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/98578772]Moonbeam![/url] Why exalt such a promising xyx? Why? Why pay a huge premium for 10 measly levels? Why?! [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/qnc/3373366/2]Liquid's death in Frostpunk.[/url] Dec 12, Day 15: Scholar [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/99240406]Eldritch[/url] and [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/99438104]Heather[/url] and then... stuff to do! ... and [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/99230338]Elva[/url] and [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/99230337]Tabra[/url]. Spire is level 15 and I'm swapping Ralesh for Gehn in the biolocke... [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/91257005][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/912571/91257005_350.png[/img][/url] Dec 13, Day 16: Clown Fin [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/98467367]Todelmer[/url] and [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/98477812]Embercrest[/url] Today. This is getting long so I'm going to finish the post today and continue in the next one... I'm going to swap to the trainees, too, probably. [b]Spire Story![/b] *** Spire's mission to find an artifact, find the truth, find salvation from the dark legacy of his bloodline had - ironically - been successful. Smooth sailing, even, if he wanted to mock it a little bit. And, as the spiral dragged himself into conciousness, he did. Spire woke up in a frozen prison cell. Well - woke up was a strong word, and didn't describe how his consciousness had waxed and waned up until then. Looking around was exactly what he expected from an icy cold cell in the Icefields. He coiled onto himself and collected his thoughts - There were a few prisons in the land of the Icewarden, and the fact that he wasn't frozen solid meant that he wasn't in the worst one, watched over by a god along with the worst monstrosities that the Shade could dream up. Which was a good thing. The prison had a central pit that could be seen from the cell, which actually provided some rising of warmth. From the glimmer of eyes as Spire glanced up, more sensitive species and flights seemed to be kept higher to keep them warm, which placed him upper middle. He was sure that the warden lairs were kept at the very rim, and it would make sense that fires and lights would be put to work keeping the place warm. At least, he assumed so. "You're finally awake!" Spire turned to see that he had a cellmate, another, very excited spiral. She was shadow flight, blue with golden wings and runes glittering along her hide. "I almost got so hungry that I ate your meal, but I saved it for you! Aren't I great? Praise the Berrymaker!" "Yes. Great." A half-frozen bowl of meat had ben prepared and left. Half frozen, half done, and not nearly fresh and [i]alive[/i] enough to sate the powerful cravings. He ate it anyway. "I am Spire." He offered belatedly. [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/97033790][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/970338/97033790_350.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/qnc/3373366/2]"Liquid! How did you end up here?"[/url] "How did you end up here?" Spire shot back, already annoyed (though at least she wasn't getting on his case for being of the light flight.) "Heresy! And food hoarding. I had to have all the berries, you see! To summon the Berrymaker to be a new god of Sornieth! A goddess of food, autumn, and so much candy! So much!" "Hmm..." "... of course, a god needs their own dragons, so I was very helpful and decided to start them off with some premade dragons!" She giggled. "I don't know how I did it, but I had quite a collection of starting material for Her, so that She could have a good head start! They caught me, though, so I'll have to start over if I get out!" If. Spire eyed Liquid, but he tamped down his fear and disgust. How dare he feel that way, when he was here for much the same reasons? "I am here for similar reasons. They betrayed me. I fought them to the death. There's been a misunderstanding." ... or not. As the red mist cleared from his memory, Spire remembered red blood on the snow, death, and the taste of fresh meat. The gaolers and other wardens had found him, it seemed, and locked him away... where? "Where are we?" "Rimebone Stockade!" Liquid said gleefully. [i]Perfect.[/i] Spire looked out at the chilling despair of the prison, following a small bird that had somehow found a way to dart around in the Now he just had to get out of the cell and explore. "They'll probably round us up soon and have us relight all the lights and check all the shadows." Liquid said, swirling around in a typically fidgety way for a spiral before brandishing a deck of cards. "Wanna play high and low first?" Spire glanced into her mad, dark eyes, and decided that it was the safest bet. *** Spire was never opposed to a game of higher or lower, of course. And it kept the psychotic spire with him distracted. So, a bonus. "Do they often let us out?" "Occasionally! For work! They don't let you go anywhere else, though. They are very strict. Not very [i]berry[/i] of them." Liquid picked the higher, Spire picked lower - and winced as the drawn card turned out high. "Yay!" "Hmm." Another round. "This is a prison, after all. Do they let prisoners near the artifacts?" "Haha! Never! Only wardens and scholars. They don't even let prisoners read! Too risky, they said, and I just wanted to learn more about berries." ... what a living hell. A few more rounds passed until a gaoler warden slammed her wing against the bars with a sharp sound. "Move!" she said with a snarl. "It's lights time." Spire allowed himself to be herded into a group of dragons with dark purple and golden eyes. Light and shadow, bounded by the guards, they were shuffled through the halls of the prison, forced to tend to the lights and dispel the shadows. Spire wondered how many of them were truly vicious criminals - he still felt empathy as one of the dragons, a pearlcatcher, passed out from exhaustion. The poor dragon was slammed until he struggled to his feet. "Please... my pearl..." it gasped. Spire looked down the pit where the pearl had fallen, wondering if anyone would bother. "Too bad! Move along!" The prison newly bathed in unrelenting, harsh light, the group was hustled back to their prisons. That no one had perished from being pushed so hard to their limits, Spire was honestly surprised. As the pearlcatcher was slammed, sobbing, back to their cell, Spire looked after them sympathetically... and his eyes widened with shock as a bogsneak slithered out of the ice of the cell floor, a pearl in hand. She put her claw to her mouth as she handed the pearl back to the now overjoyed pearlcatcher, then met Spire's eyes. A big grin grossed the bogsneak's face and she returned to the ice that formed the walls and floor, slithering beneath it with a pastel body that blended in well. Spire didn't need to see the flash of blue in her crystalline eyes to recognize her. Someone he knew in passing. Spire and liquid were unceremoniously returned to their cell. Spire untangled and centered himself as Liquid curled up in a corner and began to snore. He had just settled back in after the harsh hours of draining work when the bogsneak slipped free of the ice and stood before him in the cell. [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/98578772][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/985788/98578772_350.png[/img][/url] "Hi grandpa!" Moonbeam, daughter of Kveeri, chirped happily, "what are you doing here?" "I could ask the same of you." Spire didn't know the names of most of his grandchildren, but Moonbeam was different. Born a demigod, with strong magic, she had been interesting up until she had left for more interesting places. Apparently, resembling her other grandfather. "I wanted to explore! Then I had an accident. Now I'm here!" Moonbeam showed a playful fang. "Very specific. I..." Spire paused. "... I followed... a call in my blood." "Really?" Something about the way that she said it, not followed by a laugh but an expression of surprise, made Spire remember that she had two heritages. Surely the heritage of the wavecallers would overcome the call of the cold dead, but... "How did that get you here?" "Self-defense. It seems you discovered where your abilities lie." "Yep! Ice-phasing! It's very ice-flight of me, but I guess ice is just really cold water!" Moonbeam giggled. Spire wondered. He really wondered. But... "Moonbeam, can you take a person with you?" "Yes? Probably! Why, grandpa, are you going to break out?" her giggles were far too loud and mocking, but a glance out told Spire that frightening laughter was not so unusual. "... I want to go to the library and the artifact repository first." "Of course you do! Yes, I can do that! When?" Spire thought for a moment, then glanced back at Liquid. "At the best time. At your earliest convenience." Moonbeam flicked her tongue out in amusement. "See you tonight, then!" *** Night fell but it was hard to tell - the lights were still bright and harsh. Only the change of shifts marked it, as well as a roar from an imperial guard telling the inmates that it was time to shut up and sleep. There was movement, still - endless shuffling - but Spire waited hopefully none the less, urgency growing with the hunger in his body. Moonbeam came to the cell with a dramatic entrance. She grinned as she grabbed the spiral in her claws and burrowed them under the ice. It was not as disconcerting as it could have been, as it should have been. A spiral's body was sensitive to the cold, but it was also very suited to winding through the temporary tunnels that Moonbeam made and keeping up with the bogsneak demigod. He wasn't as camouflaged as she was, but they seemed to be unnoticed. "Why didn't you escape sooner?" "I felt like playing around a bit! Plus there's no Shade here. It's fun!" "Ah. Interesting." "Are you getting your cape?" Moonbeam wound around a metal chain holding the ice firm. "Yes." Honestly, Spire hadn't realized that anyone knew about his magic cape, but with Tem not on his person... the hunger was growing, but not for Moonbeam, actually. Disturbing. "And other items. I'm searching for an item..." Spire paused, "... I'm not sure what, yet." He admitted, "Something of magical and archeological importance." "We can check the scholar's notes. If they catch us, they might kill us, though." "That's fine. They can try." Spire was startled at the viciousness in his voice. "... But lets go to the treasury. Time is of the essence and we should leave once we find something suitable." "Haha! Grandpa's breaking out!" Moonbeam giggled, and Spire flinched and glanced around at the echo. Surely, they were spotted by the gaolers and keen-eared dragons. Or the skydancers that patrolled and searched for seditious thoughts! As Spire looked back at the bogsneak he was following, she winked. What other magic did she have at her disposal? The treasury room - or rooms - were large and somewhat organized. They were far at the top, where they could easily be studied by scholars in the rim. Spire poured into the room, coiling and getting his bearings as Moonbeam shook off remnants of ice from her hide. Artifacts were everywhere. Spire didn't need to cast a spell to sense the magic radiating off of them, but he did anyway and was nearly blinded by the brilliance of the room. And this was but one of many! Could he find what he sought here? He likely could and would - Moonbeam, for her silliness, had steered him right to a repository of ancient magic of all kinds... magic he could potentially draw from for his purpose. ***

Hunted Items

Spotted Sand Delver: 11 (DONE)
Grapevine Beetle: 4
Pelvis Plate: 4
Boneweave Cage: 2
Ridgespine Adornment: 1
Hunter Fang: 0

Other items
Boneyard Patroller
Vial of Hypnotic Sight
Shred
Zephyr Might Fragment

A bit extra training up/hunting some fodder! ... And Treasure ... Or later. Maybe I'll do this later.
... Training with the academy dragons is MUCH more fun. Both Stormwarden and Stormwatcher are level 11, grats to them!

***


Bio
Once upon a time, an arcane-born mirror decided to take a chance on an idea. Striking out with her best friend, lifemate, and polar counterpart, Eraa founded a clan based on the principles of arguing until only one idea was left standing. It was vicous, brutal, and efficient in a way perhaps closer to the harsh plague flight than the inquisitive arcanites. The clan started as a rough, open-air burrow, then eventually became a bubble ampitheatre of crystal as various dragons added their touches, lairs, and values.

When the clan migrated to the water lands, they carved into the vast cliffs by the tidepools, warrening the place until they found a leyline to power their ideas, and constructed a suitable forum for argument. Over the years, this Mystborne Conclave became more and more elaborate and complicated, sprawling laboratories and gardens and living spaces and libraries all united by brave voices raised in productive debate.

Eraa settled back and let it happen, pursuing other ideas. At some point, she transformed into the new and powerful Obelisk species, and that started her interest in the nature of dragonkind and the elements that so polarize them. Her interest became obsession, and she became the darkness in the shadows of the Conclave - its greatest mind, greatest challenge, and greatest threat.

For now, she is laying low, hanging back... until her ideas come to fruition yet again.

***

Personality
Eraa is a harsh and brutal dragon, carrying over her pragmatic nature as a mirror dragon and melding it with the patience of her newer obelisk body. She likes to solve problems directly and efficiently - with bloody tooth and claw if necessary. Obstacles to her plans are to be removed, bluntly, and she thinks that others who don't do the same are fascinating.

Actually, many things are fascinating to Eraa. When she doesn't understand something, she yearns to - and will observe that phenomenon for a long time to understand it. Or take it apart. Eraa stops at nothing to understand what she's experiencing and to find the best and most interesting path forward. Currently, her particular fascination is the interaction between the elemental alignment a dragon is born with, and the elemental affinity granted by the species - and now, the elemental expression of the ancients, such as "flameforgers" and riot "genetics"

Eraa is a very social creature generally, despite currently reclusive. Despite her aggressive and fierce demeanor, she likes people, dragon and beastfolk alike, and wants to hear them out. With that said, if someone's body or ideas don't survive the encounter, then she believes they weren't worth it anyway.

Nothing excites Eraa more than the thrill of a new discovery about her current fascination - except for opposition to her discovery. The idea that she could be tested - and even defeated - is a delightful one.

Come at her. She's ready.

[b]Items[/b] Light (Scholarly and Artifacts): 89 Library Lurker 10 Archivists Mantle 9 Ice (Prison and Fluff): 101 Sunbleached Feathers 6 Boneweave Cage 6 Ribbed Cage 6 Sunbleached Foulscale 1 Goose Down 6 Bloodfang Watcher 1 Steelscale Isopuppy 1 Hunt Items Grapevine Beetle: 13 Pelvis Plate: 3 Boneweave Cage: 6 Ridgespine Adornment: 3 Hunter Fang: 9 Other Items Spinal Sorcerer Tertiary Gene Scroll - Flecks Ancient Gene Parchment - Candycane Scratch Bearded Shrieker Ghastly Hunter's Hat Bloodfang Watcher Steelscale Isopuppy Earthen Acuity Fragment Natural Acuity Fragment *** December 14, Day 16: Ossein Scavenger Training with the academy dragons, that was fun. Fodder or sales - Sales! Let's go! [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/98676129]Plum[/url] and [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/96557280]Sweetfruit![/url] December 16, Day 16: Sharp-Eyed Ring Fodder for some [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/frd/3383458#post_58052122]light time[/url]? Or just in general? ... Actually, I'm going to do 2 more rounds (total of 6 fodder) and finish the story in the next post. Stormwarden and Stormwatch are now level 12. I have to retire them from the boneyard... Moving in [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/99033120]Voltaic[/url] and [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/99351912]Anabelle[/url]. Level 11v (which Volt and Ana are now) is fine. Level 12 might mean that we put them into the silk strewn wreckage, but we still have hunting to do here! * Spire Story * Many artifacts caught Spire's eye - pearls or pearl substitutes, arcane contraptions, metal chilled with an eternal frost... Was the frost emitted by the artifact, or keeping them at bay? Spire briefly gave into the curiosity, coiling around them and investigating them closely - at least until a noise startled him out of his trance. He hid from the patrol, heart pounding, ready to fly. Had they noticed his absence? For now, no alarm was sounded, and he crept out as the patrol passed. Moonbeam looked at him in amusement as he reassessed his situation. [i]Focus. I need to focus.[/i] Spire turned back to the artifacts, studying them more intently. Ice - ice and light. Both, possibly. He needed to stabilize himself, or at least find a way to control what was happening to him, and that would be... helpful. One of the pearls caught his eye - encrusted with frost and shimmering darkly, it held a great deal of power. When he picked it up to inspect it, protected by whispered spell work, he could feel it: the calling in his blood. It resonated with the calling inside him - too convenient. He needed to know more about it, but the only way to do so was to be a researcher, not a prisoner. The records were [i]here[/i], so close, but so far. A howl rang through the prison and thunderous movement echoed in the ice and metal of the prison's halls. They very sound hunted him, and Spire knew what it was: "Let's go," he said, turning to Moonbeam. "Where?" she said, with a smirk. "Out. Now." Moonbeam chuckled. "It was getting boring here, anyway." She grabbed him in her claws and sank them into the ice as a guard rushed into the room, roaring an alert as it tried to catch them. As Spire followed the bogsneak through the tunnels she built, he realized that he had left his cloak behind - it would just have to be that way. He would find a way, but that would have to wait. Spire hurried towards, hopefully, freedom. Spire only knew that they were out because of the blank whiteness of snow. Moonbeam moved faster, and Spire sped up, avoiding sudden crashing of ice as the guards pursued. It became a high-speed mazed, Spire using all of his strength and natural agility to keep up with the shockingly fast bogsneak. Finally, as Moonbeam burrowed upwards, all was quiet - and the surface was even more eerily silent, featureless white in all directions. [i]Where to now?[/i] Moonbeam turned to face him, her grin far too wide for the situation they had escaped or the situation they found themselves in. On the harsh, flat glacier, without items or supplies, tired after a chase... "I know where you want to go, and I know where it is," his granddaughter taunted. "How do you know that?" Spire asked, trying to draw energy into his exhausted body against the cold and the travel that would come. "I just know," she winked, "the same way that you do. Don't worry about food, grandpa! We'll find some on the way, I'm sure of it!" Spire didn't want to think about that. "Let's go, then. We must go quickly." Moonbeam swished her tail in the snow, faceted eyes glittering, before turning and moving in the direction that called them both forward... *** As they travelled, Spire tried to overcome the feelings of loneliness. After all, he was not alone. Something was wrong - this was wrong - but no more wrong than anything else. "Grandpa?" "Hmm?" The bogsneak had fallen into 'step' with Spire, sharing what little warmth they had between them as they followed the 'call.' "Why are the gods so incompetent?" Spire gave her - a being with close ties to the Tidelord itself - a second glance. "I know the stories! They all nearly ended the world, then failed to save it. One of them is missing and no one can find them, and meanwhile everyone fights for no good reason! It's so silly." "It is... counterintuitive, yes. To ask why, though would be to ask why a dragon might have a body that favors the ground or the air, regardless of their flight." Talking helped warm him, even as it cost some warmth into the air... "It's not a question that can be answered." "Maybe they need to be replaced." Spire shivered and did not respond. The cold was ruthless, breaking through his hide and cutting deep into him. His heart still fought with rapid beats, but he would die out here if they didn't find shelter soon. [i]Or become something else.[/i] As if in answer to the prayer in his slowing wings and aching body, a solemn cairn rose out of the shimmering snow-filled fog. The grim place was a lair, an entrance yawning, a dark void outlined in frost and bone, visible from here. The territory was marked with stones stained with old blood and dead dragons that spoke to a battle long forgotten, their bodies preserved in the snow. Fear froze his blood as much as the tundra. Every instinct in Spire's body told him not to go inside - and the resounding choir of the 'call' only made him less inclined to go. But he would die out here as much as in there. He needed answers. And his granddaughter had already slithered inside. The loneliness was unbearable, and the temptation of [i]belonging[/i] (and survival) was too great. Spire swirled through the air on frantic wings and entered the abode, feeling the darkness seep behind him and close him off like an iron door... *** *** No welcoming party awaited them. It was somewhat warmer in the grim, stoic lair, but a fire spell in a long-disused firepit and a discarded rough fur cloak helped. The isolation of the darkness, and the simultaneous sense of many watching eyes was an unpleasant combination that kept Spire on edge (though he was no longer shivering.) Moonbeam seemed unphased by the pressure and dreariness of the lair. She slithered around the now flickering light of the room and then, boredly, slithered into the darkness beyond. She reminded Spire of his son's previous, headstrong mate. "Grandpa! Come here!" Spire slithered and flapped after her, a light in hand and anxious. The light revealed dragons, locked away in ice that was stained bright red in some places. They looked dead, but not decayed, their eyes closed. Spire looked at them - a huge ridgeback, a sneaky looking pearlcatcher, others... Spire recognized some of the physical traits, here and there. Near the ice, the room was colder than even the outside world. As he studied them, he felt a dark foreboding crawl along his skin - and then the eyes of the ridgeback glowed a brilliant ice-white. [i]You... Survivors.[/i] The voice was dark and deep and full of cruel malice. [i]Your blood will do well.[/i] Moonbeam grinned. "Is that so?" [i]There is power in your blood. You are ours. Revive us with your blood, and we will reward your strength with a merciful death and a glorious future.[/i] Spire bared his teeth. "I'm assuming that this is a lot of blood, and that future will be without us." [i]You are strong enough to survive, but not strong enough. You are not of ice. Your luck will fail you, but adding to our strength has more meaning than your pitiful lives.[/i] Spire could feel the pressure of her will, and the part of him that called him to this place obeyed. It yearned to obey and die for this matriarch that Spire had never - yet always - known. "No!" He writhed, struggling against the call with all of the will he could muster. [i]Willing or not, this is your role![/i] the mental voice was stronger than the blizzard winds, and before Spire could react, one of his sharp claws was at his throat... "Really?" Moonbeam laughed. "You can try!" Spire fought against the bite of his own claw, on the edge of submission and death. [i]Try?! Child, you cannot stand against us.[/i] the glow of eyes, some white, at least one the violet of shadow, "I bet I can!" Moonbeam whipped out a scroll and read the words, power infusing her voice, her faceted eyes glowing. The glow infused her whole form, causing it to shift and grow into an amorphous mass of magic. It hurt to look at. Finally, she emerged, like a moth rising from a cocoon. Spire had forgotten that she was a demigod, but now it was obvious - only vaguely in the shape of an aether dragon, her tentacles lashed out with raw energy, wrapping around the blocks of ice. [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/drs/3370963/1#post_3370963][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=1&body=85&bodygene=166&breed=22&element=4&eyetype=4&gender=1&tert=74&tertgene=339&winggene=166&wings=74&auth=403cab787b253b72ed5b86ecf53d2fba60119fed&dummyext=prev.png[/img][/url] [i]You dare to defy us?! Your family?! Submit to your fate![/i] The air shook with rage that chilled Spire to his core. "No, you fools. Submit to your family, or whatever!" Moonbeam still glowed painfully. "I don't really care about any of that!" The ice rattled, cracking with a great, multi-voiced roar of rage and defiance. Spire's head spun with it, the warmth leaving his wings. "I just want to see how far I can go!" A tentacle latched onto Spire, and he cried out. "... sorry, Grandpa," she murmured beneath the howling storm of rage, "I need a bit more power." The glowing facets of her eyes were the last thing that Spire saw before he blacked out. *** Coming to was a strange process. He knew that he was outside before he opened his eyes, but the cold of the blizzard didn't effect him at all. The only sensation that he felt was the artifact that he had stolen, clutched in his claws. It was warm with the power of light, and pressing against it cleared his head of a thick and cruel fog. Thinking was difficult, but the lack of heartbeat resounding in his ears brought him to a conclusion that scared him enough to wake him. He only had so much time before magic and thought were gone and he would be, possibly, just a puppet of some grander design. The thought was both terrifying and oddly relieving. He could give in to it. Become exactly that. He was destined to be so, wasn't he? At the same time, why submit to destiny? Was he so weak-willed? The answer was no, and he had not set out to be someone else's pawn. He whispered the words of magic and drew the signs. His voice and movements were difficult, staggered at first, his bones and joints creaking with encrusted ice. As he continued the spell, his mind seemed to gain strength and the gifted warmth of sunlight poured into his veins. It chased away everything - the call, the cold, the urge to fight, even as his victory was assured... such as it was. Spire uncoiled, clasping the artifact close, and assessed his situation. He was alone. The tundra was quiet... And he wanted to get out of there. There was no fatigue to hold him down, only a numbness held in balance by the light. He grabbed the artifact and took flight, looping into the sky - a direct line, as best he could muster - towards the sea of a thousand currents. It would be a long journey, but the call was gone - only his library remained, and he wanted only to coil in it with a good book... And forget it all for a time. *** Glowing, faceted eyes watched him leave from the shadows of the lair. "Heh." Chuckled a coldly amused voice. "Good luck with that. Have fun." And then it returned to the shadows, leaving Spire to his fate - and her to hers. Or whatever she made of it.

The white skydancer faced the ancient obelisk dragon down, his feathers bristling. His eyes and claws glowed blue with power, and she smelled the magic and herbs on him.

"Huh." Eraa swished her tail. She stood in her laboratory, a hidden cavern deep within the magic-enhanced limestone warrens of the Mystborne Conclave. "If it isn't the herbalist. What are you doing here?" She had a good idea, but she wanted to hear it from him as she loomed over him, her powerful form a contrast to his delicate body.

"I'm here to stop you." Kveeri said, his voice deadly quiet.

"Ohoho?" Eraa laughed. "Really." Her experiments were all around her, dragons and familiars held in suspended animation. Evika was one of them, the plagueborn smith flickering with the paradoxical fires of her genes even as she slept. "You're not a fighter, kiddo. You know that, I know that, everyone knows that. That's not a problem, you do you." She stepped forward, one powerful, thudding paw towards him. "But I can only be stopped by force."

Kveeri was quiet for a moment. "I know," he said, finally. "I'll do what I have to do."

"Are you sure?" Eraa tilted her head and bared her fangs, "because I'll kill you... no," she stepped forward until she could stoop and look him in the eyes. "I'll make you an experiment. You're not a magical anomaly, not yet, but you have potential. Would be a waste to kill you, but maybe you'd prefer that."

Kveeri spread his wings wide, a pathetic attempt at a threat display from one of the least threatening dragons in the clan. "You won't get to do either," he said, "I'm sure of it."

"Oh, you're up to something." Eraa purred. "Let me guess. You're working with Sirras. She's tricksy, that one. A bit of me, a bit of shadow, but all arcane. You and her have a plan. You ever think of mating with her? No? Eh. Would be interesting for science." Eraa tossed her mane and coiled her tail around him, a paw on either side of him, now. Physically, she outmatched him and he couldn't take to the air. "Want to bet that it won't work? You came down here to try, kid, but you know you're going to die down here."

"There's no turning back," Kveeri said with a sigh - clearly the kid had had some hope that he could talk her down, but he wasn't a talker, either. Before Eraa could laugh at him, tease him a bit, and then force him into a containment tube, the skydancer reared back and slammed something on the ground.

A violet mist engulfed Eraa and made her cough and stagger back. It smelled both acrid and sweet, making her gag. She overcame the disorientation and flapped her wings to clear the air, finding that she was now looking up - and up - at the skydancer, holding a glowing bottle.

"A shrinking spell? Wow. Trying to even the odds?" Eraa lunged with her sharp claws, raking at the skydancer with all of the ferocity of her age. She felt the hit connect, glancingly, but the spray of blood was enough of a reward. "Not gonna work."

Kveeri's eyes were cold and emotionless, like a blade. He said nothing, only summoned magic to his claws and flung a bolt at her. The spell that engulfed her made her limbs heavy, but she knew it well.

"Heh. Mao uses that. I got tricks, too." She clenched her claw and magic wrapped around Kveeri's body - only to fall away in an explosion of runes. "... Sirras do that for you?" She said with a smirk.

Kveeri threw a bottle at her, and Eraa dodged it - only to get hit by the second one that he threw, one that drenched her with a strange-smelling concoction. "No, I helped," he said, taking out an enchanted bottle of what Eraa recognized as concentrated magic. It looked complicated, contrasting elements of nature, earth, and plague all conflicting with each other, yet held contained and separated by complicated spells. "She did this."

Kveeri slammed it into her and the fluid that drenched Eraa erupted into crackling magic - wrapping her body in damaging magic and drawing her own innate arcane energies out. The air was crackling with intense magic, waiting to be released.

"Good play," Eraa said as Kveeri ignited the spell with a spark of raw magic, and then the laboratory went white with explosive energy.

The explosion had taken out her lab, and - as far as Eraa knew - everyone thought that she had gone with it. Sirras suspected, probably, but she was suspicious. Kveeri had survived, a protective spell shielding him, but he had also found himself completely out cold for days. Eraa could have stalked up to him and killed him, but hadn't.

Instead, she retreated to her other labs and her other experiments. Data was still data, and if her beloved clan thought that she was done, they were wrong. She would keep going. She would keep plotting...

And she would keep seeing just how powerful they could become.

Come at her.

Short Stories

Cookies? Cookies. Cookies and tea! Hayate was sure that she could show just how amazing that she was in this contest of cooking craziness. She had travelled all the way to the Behemoth (that didn't impress her, not at all, totally didn't,) in the depths of the jungle to participate, and the bogsneak demigod was already salivating.

As her teammate, a green and pink everlux named Flower, furled and unfurled and sorted the recipes, Hayate stared yearningly at the ingredients - maybe she could take a few bites now?

She was quickly distracted as the baking began, and it was beyond her wildest dreams of confectionary delights! More than just a baking contest, it was a free-for-all! A claw fest!

"Hahaha!" she laughed as she started stealing cookies and 'accidentally' slapping nearby opponents with her tail. "Let's have some fun! Woo!"

Eventually, though, she had to help with the baking, quickly distracted from guarding (and eating) the cookies by the tea she was brewing. Her powers were active, and the rich scent of no less than ten different tea blends added a headiness to the already wonderfully smelling air. They were new recipes - because Celia was also trying something new. "We need an advantage!" the pastel fae dragon said, "something new and fresh! Or... old and fresh!"

"A little of both, then!" Hayate laughed gutterally . "Old and new! We can do it!" So thats what she did - a little of both! A spicy tea with cinnamon and cloves and other spices that she could call mulled... a delicate tea with rose petals and lavender... An herbal tea that would pick you up, one that would send you to sleep... Actually, Hayate's fins perked up as she had a mischievous idea!

She snuck after the team's cinnamon-sunlight (so handsome!) Veilspun, trying not to flirt with him while he was busy - but passing out a bit of the relaxing tea (spiked with a bit of her magic to be a bit too relaxing!) It wasn't rude, it was funny, and it wasn't as though she was doing anything bad - just making them yawn... camomile ramped up to the next degree! She returned, giggling, only to be shoved into a job by the everlux!

"Cookies have mysteriously disappeared? What do you mean, silly? It's a free for all!" She pointed to a very smug auraboa, but got to work anyway. She took care of the oven, locking it up and returning to her teas. They would be the key to winning her team points, and showing off - so they had to be perfect! Looking over, though, she saw the most beautiful cookies ever - too pretty to eat. Ammar fluttered around, adding the finishing touches, and Hayate...

Well, she guessed she was just like her daddy, now, smitten with cute dragons everywhere - maybe she should follow that beastclan god he liked! Or not! She could do whatever she wanted.

The baking contest dragged on, but watching Ammar made it better - she almost messed up her infusions, but caught it at the last moment!

"There's salt in my batter! Hayate!" The everlux's upset expression was hilarious, and Hayate couldn't help but laugh at er. "Toss it! We need to start over!"

"Sure." Honestly, e was pretty cute, too.

"We need to hustle! We're running out of time!"

Hayate, oddly enough, became calmed at that statement - as if she drank the tea herself. She wanted to win, but the contest? It was all about the process - the rush, the heat, the competition. She was living for it!

---

Cookie Crush 2024
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Heat A
Flower, Everlux Teammate
Ammar, Veilspun Teammate
Celia, Fae Teammate



... have to wait for the finale but...

Hunt Items
Ridgespine Adornment: DONE

Dragonfruit:
Regal Firefish:

Other Items
A couple of strange chests
Spinal Sorcerer
Bonebeetle
Contuse
Corvid Convergence
Shred
Ancient Gene Parchment: Marlin
Anticipate

Leveling up the traveller Chewybean to level 10

xxx

Finished!

Boneyard lvl 8:
Tarpit Gigante Chicken: 15/15 DONE
Spotted Sand Delver: 25/25 DONE
Grapevine Beetle: 25/25 DONE
Pelvis Plate: 20/20 DONE
Cranial Cache: 2/2 DONE
Boneweave Cage: 15/15 DONE
Ridgespine Adornment: 15/15
Hunter Fang: 15/15 DONE

xxx


Short Story

When Spire returned to the lair, Amateria noticed the difference immediately. The cold presence, the odd lack of blood to her plague flight senses...

"It happened, didn't it?" she asked him quietly.

Spire said nothing, but that was enough for her to bow her head understandingly.

"Do you want me to... finish the job?" Amateria asked gruffly, hiding her heart.

"Not yet." As he writhed into his home in the library and, almost hilariously customarily, avoided all conversation on the matter, Amateria considered her options. One of them was talking to Sirras.

"He's back."

"I heard."

"Talk to him?"

"Did I talk to him yet?" the tundra sighed. "No. I haven't, Amateria, because I've been teaching." She stood and stretched, shaking out her fur. "I'll do that now. What should I expect?"

Amateria hesitated. "Everything he feared."

"Well not everything, obviously," Sirras said, plodding out of her office with a slight sparkle of magic following her, "or he'd be dead."

Amateria grunted an affirmative. She thought, initially, that Sirras was stalking towards the library to give Spire a peace of her mind, but instead, they took a sharp turn, traveling deeper into the depths of the conclave. There were no abandoned dens here, of course - the outer areas were older than the depths, after all - but there were places that had been burrowed into and forgotten.

Or, evidently, not forgotten.

A small room, deeply delved and abandoned, was empty save for several dust-less random treasures. The cause of their dustless-ness was clear - the spiral sluggishly sweeping the dust away.

"Spire. What happened?" Sirras sat in the doorway, letting the guardian loom behind her.

"Exactly as I feared," Spire said hoarsely, "and more."

"Can you be less specific?!" Sirras grumbled. "Were there monstrous dragons in the tundra? Are you dead? Are you undead? Is there some kind of new god we need to stop? Is it the Shade?" The tundra paused and took a deep breath. "Tell us everything."

Spire uncoiled, and Amateria fought not to growl at the cold light that seemed to emit from his golden eyes. "Yes. I will. I will tell you all that I can."

Amateria looked out over the hidden cove and processed what she now knew once again. It was dangerous here, but she knew that its resident wouldn't be messing with her or with Sirras.

"So, if you didn't catch that," Sirras said, the first words that she had said since the conversation, "He's now something called a 'lightlich.' Which is better than what he could have been, which is a 'frozen zombie' seeking to upend all dragonkind, an eternal prisoner in the prisons of the Icewarden, sacrificed to some unholy aim, or just plain dead."

"Hmm." Amateria... hadn't gotten it, but she thought that was a good summary. "What do we do?"

"Nothing about Spire. I checked his spells while we were talking. As far as I know, his strategy with binding his spirit and magic to an artifact worked. Or at least, will work long enough to do something about it."

Amateria shifted slightly. "Should we allow him to be here?"

"Should you destroy him, you mean." Sirras took a moment, letting the wind flow through her fur. "I don't think we need to go that far yet. He's a valuable member of the Conclave, so we should keep an eye on him, but leave him be for now. What we should be worried about..." She flared her wings and looked up at Amateria, "... is his cloak."

"The cloak."

"The item that helps him regulate, yes. The item that keeps him under control, or at least could help. It'll at least cheer him up, and he won't be such a pain in the tail."

Considering Sirras' attitude, Amateria found that amusing. She did not laugh.

"He was in prison. How do we get it?"

Sirras tapped her claws on the stone. "We get it. That's all." She turned away. "I'm going to take some notes, and then we're going to go to the Southern Icefields and visit a prison."

"Are you sure?"

Sirras glared at her.

"Right." All that Amateria could think of as she watched Sirras go was how different she was from her sister. Yet, still brave.

Amateria was impressed and appreciative at how Sirras had handled their arrangements. It never occurred to her that the Mystborne Conclave was a very reputable clan that could throw weight around. The idea was still startling to her as, after a long flight, she stood with Sirras within the Rimebone Stockade.

"I do intend to do my job while here - research and assist with the confiscated items. And you are here to protect me. But..." Sirras whispered as they looked over the prison - even their quarters was barely not an ice-and-metal cell. "We have another job to do. And I may need you to do it for me, under the pressure of being watched. Can you do that?"

Amateria nodded.

"Good. You know what we're looking for." Another nod. "... be careful. They know who Spire was, now. They might," she glowered at a gaoler dragon, "suspect something."

"That's why you're being honest."

"That's why I'm being honest."

That's what they did. Sirras worked as a scholar, her fur coat growing thicker to fight back the cold. Amateria watched over her - and watched the others - protecting her charge from guard and prisoner alike.

Sirras hoped that it might be possible to find and 'legally' return the cloak, but that did not seem to be panning out. They searched through the stockades and junk repositories and personal items - but their term of researching was nearly over.

"You're going to have to do it," Sirras said, "I'll play lookout and talk them down, but it's now or never, and you're more likely to survive getting attacked."

Amateria wasn't so sure - there were guardians in the Rimebone Stockade, after all, and plaguelings... but she had to do it, and so she would. And maybe something that trailed her, that was moving ever closer in the frozen wastes outside. She had seen it, and it was near.

Perhaps it could help.

Either way, while Sirras stopped several guards to talk to them, Amateria slipped down into the vaults. Of course, the item they were looking for would be in a vault they hadn't looked, and there were hints in Sirras research that narrowed it down further. Amateria just had to find it.

She did her best to sneak with her massive body, but knew that her intimidating, businesslike attitude was what kept her from being challenged. She walked into a treasury room as if she owned it, and searched it with harsh swipes of her claws and glares into the shadows. If she made a mess, she'd just be surly.

She knew Tem, the enchanted and semi-intelligent cloak, well. Spire often had it, and she had even handled it. She couldn't find it here, and she did her best to scour the room. She wasn't the one who would put it back, after all.

Amateria moved on to the next room and did the same.

Rummage. Frustration. Searching. Amateria was a bull in a china shop, struggling not to break the things that Sirras would probably scold her about, but also didn't care.

Not here either? Ugh.

Amateria didn't like how deep into the prison that she had to go. The deeper she went, the harder it would be for them both to leave safely - and the amount of damage that would be done on the way out.

Still, she kept to her pattern of searching, rampaging a bit and ruining the organization efforts of the scholars who worked in this harsh place. And - there it was. A cloak fluttering with wind that wasn't there, clinging to her claws as if it knew...

"Hush," Amateria growled at it, folding it and holding it close. She turned to leave, only to find a fellow guardian blocking her way. His eyes gleamed ice-white and he wore the uniform of a high-ranking prison guard.

"What do you think you're doing?!" He snarled, baring his fangs.

"Getting something for my researcher." Amateria bared her own fangs - if he came at her with aggression, she would, too.

"Did that mean that you had to wreck the place? Wander into places you're not authorized for?! You're not authorized for this place, interm scholar Amateria."

"Get out of my way. I have an errand." Amateria pushed against him, making it very clear that she wasn't going to back down. "You have a problem?" She took the snarl as a 'yes.' She could have tried to talk him down, refer him to Sirras, but she lost her patience. "I said, get out!" she said, lashing out, her claws coated with some of the virulent pathogen that lurked in her body. What would happen to him? Amateria didn't care, she just wanted him away.

He would probably be fine.

Amateria pushed past him and took wing to return to Sirras quickly.

"Ah, good. She's found the item I was searching for. Now, if you'll excuse me, we have important research to do." Sirras began to walk away, and for a moment, Amateria thought that they were done - and then the shouting began.

Amateria shielded Sirras with her wings as the chaos started.

"What did you do?!" Sirras hissed.

"Sorry." Amateria said as the prison called for a lockdown and she looked into the dead eyes of the Plaguebringer's servant - the bear. It turned from her to look at the guardian who she had infected. It was more potent than she expected, the scales near her bite already cracking and shedding away with infection as he howled and lashed out. The bear leapt into action, its claw bringing withering infection as it tried to get at its prize - her pathogen. If it got it, if it didn't, Amateria didn't care. "We should go."

"You think?!" Sirras grabbed the cloak and let Amateria grab her and take wing.

"Sorry."

"You're lucky that I planned for this. Protect me and get as high as you can, and we'll be home."

"How?"

"Don't ask questions... because I don't remember. I just know that I set everything up and was ready."

Amateria tried to rise, but the cold air grasped at her wings, as if the cold was alive and trying to drag her back down to the chaos below.

"They have anti-flight and anti-magic spells in place. Fight it. I'll handle the rest." Sirras began to chant, arcane runes circling around them.

Amateria saw an imperial guard rise into the sky, spiraling sinuously in the air. She roared, and knew what she had to do. Tooth and claw - her specialty... and protecting the vulnerable life in her claws, counting on her.

She battled the imperial in the air, clawing at him and keeping him from dragging them down until Sirra's spell runes burned brilliantly and Amateria felt her body crackle with magic. There was suddenly nothing - and then cold water surrounded her, salt rushing into her mouth. She fought for air, swimming up with her huge wings, and broke the surface of a dark, stormy sea. She brought up a wiggling and unhappy Sirras, and saw the startled guard pop his head above water, fire-orange eyes glowing in confusion.

"S... see? We're home. Basically. We have some flying to do, but..." Sirras treaded water, Amateria helping her fight the weight of her fur. "Hey! Look! You come with us, we'll explain and make it worth your while."

The imperial growled, but nodded.

"Let's go home and give Spire his cloak." Sirras said, and Amateria struggled into the air with the tundra in her claws, getting her bearings before flying in the right direction.

Amateria watched over Sirras as she trained a new class of magic users. Everything had resolved as well as could be expected - the guard was now a permanent member of the lair and a link between the Conclave and the Stockade. Some sort of diplomacy was happening to prevent long-term problems, Amateria didn't care.

A question did occur to her - did she really know the object of her Search? She had thought that it was the Conclave, but was it? Amateria looked at Sirras and wondered if it was so simple. Not that it mattered - Sirras is the Mystborne Conclave, as were other dragons within it.

Including her...

But not you, she thought, glowering at the bear that waited, patiently, in the distance.

Watching.

Waiting.

I'm starting J'nanin's saga here. Let's level up 10 dragons to level 8 and that's a head start of 80. *** Ossein Guard - Trinket Put an adult fodder dragon for fodder floor price to Water (exalt to water) Short Story about a Dragon (at least 200 words) *** [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/89543340]ChewyBean[/url] and Spirit rested on an island in the Sea of a Thousand Currents, not sure where they would go next. Going over the ocean had seemed like an adventure, but it seemed that most of the lairs were underwater and neither of them could swim. The island was full of the ruins of an old lair, and debris. The Maelstrom must have come through here. "You. Both of you. Identify yourself." A [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/137724]matte-black Guardian covered in old battle scars[/url] loomed over them with baleful red eyes. "We're travelers," Chewy said, making herself smaller, "we're just looking for a place to stay for a while..." She felt pinned by the guardian's glare. "Come." The guardian turned with a lash of her tail. "We will be leaving for home. You may come with us." The 'we' soon became obvious as ChewyBean and Spirit came across a group of young dragons, training in a clearing and rooting about the ruins. There were dragons of all sorts, but they all had an energy to them, a determination behind their every swipe. They looked up one by one, noticed the two, and smiled. Each one to varying degrees, but still a smile. "They're coming with us. You two are responsible for them." Amateria shoved the travelers suddenly towards a [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/99033120]green and orange wildclaw[/url] and a [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/99351912]pumpkin-y imperial.[/url] Introductions were done, nervously on ChewyBean's part, enthusiastic on Spirit's part, and friendly on the part of the two dragons - Voltaic and Anabelle respectively. "You're going to like it in the Mystborne Conclave!" Voltaic said, smiling slightly. "Why?" ChewyBean tilted a head. "It's fun! Everyone listens to your opinions, and you can learn and get stronger... that's what we're doing!" It turned out that the dragons on the island were training to, one day, travel to new lairs as guardians and trainers. And the lair they were from was a place that seemed totally unreal. When the flock of dragons travelled over the ocean in the sunset, the vast lair carved into a sheer cliffside was almost overwhelmingly more than described - a clan where argument and debate was king! ChewyBean couldn't bring herself to participate (even though she was allowed,) it was too much to handle for either persona, but watching it was fascinating and highly entertaining. She'd never seen a place where everything was challenged, authority conflicted, and everyone so... respected was not the right word, but it was certainly on the right track. As she listened to the debates, something stirred inside her - She lived in so much fear, constantly moving to stay out of the Plaguebringer's sight. What if... she could challenge that? "... Then do it," a [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/1303943]grey and blue imperial[/url] rumbled. ChewyBean turned around, realizing belatedly that she had been thinking out loud, arguing between her two head. "If you aren't happy with your situation, change it." "How?" "By force," the dragon said. "If you're strong enough and bold enough, you can often forge your own fate." That made sense to ChewyBean and was very appealing - and made a lot of sense. She needed to be strong. So, after a little bit of getting lost in the warren of a lair, she found her way to the so-called Academy, where the dragons trained. "I want to train with you," she said to a resting Voltaic and Anabelle. "Sure! We learn by training others, after all." They did not go easy on ChewyBean, but nothing was ever easy. She had the time to spare, since Spirit had sired a clutch and was cooing over his eggs, so they couldn't leave together for a while yet. At first, training was exhausting, but hunting with the two dragons strengthened her. One day, in the wilderness hunting for certain items for crafting, she found herself in a situation that made her realize just how strong she was. Voltaic and Anabelle were downed, unable to fight and vulnerable. ChewyBean stood alone between them and death from a ridgebone shriek, and to her shock, she stood firm. She attacked, summoning her magic in a controlled way for the first time, and took down her first deadly foe without assistance. As she helped the other two dragons back to the Conclave, ChewyBean was stunned by this realization - She was strong enough, now, to forge her own fate. With that, she knew that it was time to move on. Spirit was off of his nest, and... and she could protect him now. As the pair took off for their next destination, the feeling was warm and enlivening. For the first time, ChewyBean did not feel the weight of fear - only confidence that, no matter what disappointments and challenges awaited her, she could confront them head-on. *** Trowel - Trinket Put an adult fodder dragon for fodder floor price to Water Short Story about a Dragon (at least 200 words) *** Spirit and Chewybean found themselves following a pack of warriors to a strange clan carved into the stark white cliffside towering over a vast plain of tidepools and beach. The Mystborne Conclave was an incredible place, where debate and challenging the status quo was a part of daily life. ChewyBean didn't seem very enthusiastic, and eventually stopped going to the debates in favor of training. She did very well, even if she didn't notice, and Spirit didn't mind! It was nice to see her getting happier! Spirit had other things to do, though! "Hey Spirit! Wanna fly?!" [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/88487616]A red, tiger-striped skydancer[/url] dove through the air, then executed a serious of complicated maneuvers. "Oh yeah!" Spirit bellowed, bracing himself before taking wing. Obviously, as a mirror, he had a disadvantage against a skydancer in the air - but he was still a dragon of wind, and so as his wings caught the super sweet seaside air currents, he was at home. The skydancer, Rebek, was a courier, and also lived up to his name, dancing in the air. Spirit did the same. They raced, they chased, they did incredible stunts just for the sake of fun. They landed on one of the stone ledges of the Mystborne Conclave, laughing. "You should be a courier!" Rebek said, "it would be so fun, and you could travel around and show off and stuff!" "... there's more to it than that, and you know it," said a voice from behind them. [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/593408]A blue and pink tundra, surrounded by an aura of magic and several books and scrolls[/url] glowered at them. "It's a responsibility, something [i]you[/i] know nothing about, Rebek." Rebek laughed, and gave her a nuzzle. "This is my favorite person, Sirras! She teaches everyone magic! She's so smart!" "... and I'm a traveler!" Spirit said, as a sort of introduction. "I know who you are. Good for you." Sirras huffed. "Can we get more travelers?" Rebek batted his eyes. "Yes." Sirras said, turning to Spirit. "But he needs to help me with setting up a program for travelers to the lair." "Sure!" Spirit was happy to offer his input in between air racing sessions! Sirras was cranky, but fun in her own way, and she knew so much about anything he could ask about. And kind, despite it all. He couldn't help flirting a little, too. She seemed to ignore it, but Rebek knew immediately. "Ooo, she likes you!" he teased. And apparently Rebek was right, because at some point, an awkward outing invitation was offered. Spirit tried to take her flying, but she wasn't interested - at least she tried. That was enough for him! And then they laid a clutch together. Stability... it was nice for a time. Spirit padded around the eggs, tending to them and telling them about his travels. Even as the time came close to hatching, Spirit knew that he would leave once the little ones were free. Because he was free as the air, free of responsibility, seeing the world...! After playing with his new babies and telling them some choice stories, he was ready to go - and ChewyBean was, too. She'd changed, while here, both heads looking at him with resolve. As they made ready to take off to their next destination, Sirras scampered over, wrangling her scrolls. She stared him down. "Don't do anything too stupid," she said with a firm nod, before turning away... ... honestly, Spirit probably would. *** Dried Flowers - Organics: (Breed Dragons) Prose or short story *** [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/593408][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/5935/593408.png[/img][/url][/center] [color=#6b8e23][b]Sirras | [i]Mate[/i][/b][/color] Who knows why the serious and grumpy Sirras has attracted Rebek's attention. Who knows why she is attracted to him. Rebek thinks she's amazing and fun to be around, to her great frustration. They have an arrangement, so 'mate' is a technicality - but no matter where they roam, spiritually or otherwise, they seem to be drawn to each other. *** Snakeskin - Dragonmade: (Breed dragons) Short Story *** [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/7425779][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/74258/7425779.png[/img][/url][/center] [color=#880808][b]Achernar | [i]Colleague/Ultimate Prey[/i][/b][/color] Kadish hunts wild beasts and shadetouched creatures for fun - and Achernar is, in almost all respects, a wild beast. The wildest, and very dangerous. The thought of hunting down the coatl is a dream of his, a fantasy in his waking and sleeping dreams. He knows he can't actually hunt his clanmate, but maybe a chase? Maybe a mock hunt? Or maybe Achernar will do something worth hunting, one day. That would be fun. *** Bearded Squiggle - Seafood: Just Biolocke Stuff *** Amateria's harsh personality results from a harsh upbringing. The scarred lands of Plague were where she survived in her early life, on her own as was the way of her home clan. Her Search brought her away, far far away, until she found herself in a strange arcane clan and the object of her protection.... 'something in the clan.' She wasn't entirely sure about it, the idea in her head, where Guardians know their Treasure with certainty, was nebulous. Was it the lair? The clan? The people in it? She developed a close bond with the ferocious [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/348026]Kavesh,[/url] training the young of the clan to handle the harsh world as the clan took root and became the debating clan that it is today. Amateria soon realized that it wasn't the physical lair when the clan moved to the sea. And it wasn't Kavesh when, despite their close relationship and deep bond, the fierce tundra left the lair for other places. Amateria didn't realize how much Kavesh meant to her until she left, and the heartbreak sent the guardian into a quiet crisis of identity. What did she guard?! Why was she here?! Eventually, it became clear that she was guarding the [i]ideal[/i]. The philosophy of endless debate and ferocious challenging, finding the middle ground with violent words and constant back-and-forth! That was what she was guarding. And even if she was no longer the trainer, and even if someone she cared about was no longer in the lair, she would protect these values, still.

Jnanin has been with the Mystborne Conclave for a while, but has always wavered between his inborn flight and an allegiance to the Light Flight. He wants more than allegiance, though - he wants power. He wants a true reward. With the existence of dragons especially blessed by their gods, or even holding a fragment of their power, he wants to gain some of that - and he is willing to work for it.

With the aid of the Conclave’s Veilspun colony, he intends to blossom into a sacred being, full of electric vigor and brilliant light. He is ready to work for it, bringing forth a flood of tribute to the Lightweaver in return for her blessing and power - or die trying.

(Or worse.)

It’s all or nothing for Jnanin, but he is ready - whatever might come. At least, he thinks he is.

The Saga:
Battle daily for 20 days (with possible extension to 30) and hunt for items in the coli
Train fodder dragons (veilspun from the colony, STP pairs, etc) while doing so, at least two per day.
Level until 3x wipeouts in a relevant hunt area within their level ability.
Hibden at the current level unless finishing.
Do whatever the Pinkerton item “event” says to do.

Saga Results
Points + Fodder Success = Demigodhood
Points + Failure = Glorious Servitude to the Lightweaver
No points + failure = Disgraced Lightlich with electric additions!

Required points:
400 levels worth of dragons (about 50 at level 8) and 100 TOTAL items of light (Scholarly and artifacts)

Points
Light items (scholarly and artifacts) = 1
Lightning items (technology, electric) and luminous/shiny items are 0.5 each
Hunt items are 2 each
Festival items are 1 each
SPECIAL items are 5 each, plus any additional (6 for festival and light, 5.5 for shiny, etc.)

Upcoming Light Doms
Dec 15-Dec 21 (Conquest) (Participated in Light Raffle, Sew Cute 2 wks - 90, round up to 100 pts)
Jan 5-Jan 11 (Profit)
Feb 2 - Feb 8 (Conquest, Valightines) - Deadline for Saga
March 2 - March 8 (Profit, so wrap up?)

Saga Rules
Original Pinkerlocke Rules
Kingdomlocke Rules
Necrolocke - Inspiration for the Sagas and Trials
Fodderlocke Rules
Mystborne Conclave Saga Rules

• Food: Just Biolocke and Saga Stuff
• Materials: Breed two RANDOM Colony Veilspuns (roll 1-5 twice) if ready to breed. May send out to fodder nests.
• Dragonmade: Breed two RANDOM Compatable descendants if ready to breed, if not and while nesting they can be finished at level 10 if you wish to do so. May send out to fodder nests.
• Trinkets: Put an adult fodder dragon for fodder floor price to Water
• Familiar: Buy a CHEAP (or STP) Veilspun and set up to breed with a random descendant or OG. Veilspun's fate is up to you.
• Apparel: Train up a sale dragon instead of one of the two daily fodders.
• Battle Items: Treasure Hunt then Finishing - hunt until a festival chest or other special item is found, then 'finish' that dragon at their current level +1, unless there were no deaths, in which case finish at level 10 (for free!)

Current Points: 30

Earned: 130
Dec 15-Dec 21 (Conquest) (Participated in Light Raffle, Sew Cute 2 wks - 90, round up to 100 pts)
Jan 5 - Forgot (+30)

Spent:
100 Points for ‘Finishing’ 10 of them to start

xxx

Total Levels: 106

Honored Fodder: