Raffles & Giveaways

Hello, hello, hello, and welcome to another rendition of [b]Write, Dress, Win![/b] Last time, I gave away 2000g to help complete any Veilspun project that entrants would like. This time, I'm giving away [b]two G5 Naomi/Ignis descendants that were hatched on NEW YEAR'S DAY![/b] Don't know the drill already? It's simple. First, you will submit a [b]scry[/b] where you dress the dragon of your choice, and change its genes if you feel like it. Then, you will write me some [b]lore[/b] about that dragon. Finally, I'll pick the best set of lore and dress combined for each dragon, and send the dragons to that person! Second and third place for each dragon get to pick any non-G1, non-special-eyed dragon from my For Sale tab for free. Now, onto this year's special prizes: [quote=ELDER BROTHER.][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/66283872][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/662839/66283872_350.png[/img][/url][/quote] [quote=YOUNGER SISTER.][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/66283873][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/662839/66283873_350.png[/img][/url][/quote] (They're in a nest rental Lair right now, but they'll be back home in a sec! The parents are in my lair now, though, which you can see by clicking on their names.) Don't see what you like in this thread, but still want a freebie? [b]Check out @Mir's affiliate lore contest for G4 Naomis from the same lineage [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/raf/2921060/1]here![/url][/b] Some additional rules that you should keep in mind: [LIST=1] [*][b]Please do not join if you already have a Naomi/Ignis of G5 or lower from this exact lineage.[/b] This is so I can spread the lineage love! [*]Each piece of lore must be [b]a minimum of 250 words and a maximum of 750 words.[/b] [*]The contest is limited to the [b]first 20 people who submit completed entries.[/b] [*]Fancy formatting the lore and drawing art [b]will not be taken into account.[/b] I am not that great of an artist and I don’t know how to judge art pieces. Moreover I want to give a chance to people who might not know how to code or draw. This will be a contest of writing and scrying skill. [*]Proper grammar is a must. I won’t judge for a few mistakes here or there--you would still have the same chance of winning. But if your entry is just obvious errors top to bottom, I will disqualify it. [*]You don't have to use the lore as part of the dragon's lore after receiving the gems! Just write a nice story. [*]The current contest will be over by [b]Monday, February 1, 11:59 PM FR time (PST).[/b] Saturday is my day off for this season of my job, so I will do the judging on the Saturday immediately following the due date. [*]If you don't win, or if you don't want to participate this time, ask to be added to the pinglist for another opportunity--this is a recurring thing! [/LIST] As for my lore and scry tastes and preferences: [LIST=1] [*]I would [i]vastly[/i] prefer if you incorporated the lore of the mother, Yalsehelepthah, and possibly also the grandparents, Adam and Evike. The TL;DR of Yal's lore is that she's a dark prophet, the Shadesinger, someone deeply in touch with forbidden magics who insists that there's no such thing as good and evil and any perception of such is a delusion; she believes her reality-bending powers can prove that. You can read her full lore [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/62799776]here, in her bio[/url]. As for Adam and Evike's lore, click [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/raf/2921060/1#post_44985730]here[/url] for Mir's summary! [*][b]I will prioritize lore over scries.[/b] For example, I will pick an entry with [i]amazing[/i] lore but an OK scry over an entry with an amazing scry but bad lore. [*]As far as lore goes--I love vivid imagery and a good bit of dialogue, but most of all, I love stories that break conventions. If a ton of people all have the same or similar ideas but yours does not, that will immediately catch my eye. Alternately, you [i]could[/i] stick to a certain trope, but do it better than anything I’ve seen. Get creative! [*]I prefer accents to skins. Overall with skins and apparel, I like those that accent the dragon and enhance its existing genes rather than completely covering it in apparel or a fancy design. You can go to my [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/lair/394078/383935?name=&type=undefined]showcase[/url] if you want some examples. [/LIST] [b]PINGLIST[/b] @Prinx @Pyrogue @Self @ThatOnePlagueDr Good luck and [b]MAY THE BEST LORE WIN!!![/b]

@elduwen [img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/dressing-room/scry?sdid=1249597&skin=0&apparel=29246,36157,36167,36154,36164,29231,29236,29226&xt=dressing.png[/img] [b]Wanderer, Vigilante, Healer[/b] She stalks through the wildlands, lilies blooming in her wake. Her armor clinks as she goes, protecting her from those who might recognize her for what she is. Slowly, she catches a scent of fire and blood in the wind, and begins to follow, dutiful to her self appointed task. No good in this world, no such thing as evil, there will only ever be the shade, she remembered her mothers words in her ears as a hatchling. Mother was wrong. All she had to do was take the courage to strike out on her own to find that out. The evils that she had witnessed drakes do struck a chord deep in her heartstrings, drawing her towards the bloodshed. And then she saw the victims of the violence, helping each other to heal and rebuild despite the brutality of this strange new world she found herself in. 'If there is indeed evil in this world', she thought, 'Then perhaps mother was wrong about good as well'. And so she started learning, flitting about from place to place in order to study the world without her shadeblood being discovered. And so the darkcursed child cast off the shadowed teachings of hatchlinghood, to take on a new outlook, a new name entirely. Lilium stares down at the ruined village, before slithering in. The shadecursed imperial creeps up behind her prey, reality warping around her to make her as silent as the shade that birthed her family line. She looms over the renegade bandit, too busy trying to get at a cornered hatchling cowering in a nest of shattered eggs to notice his doom lurking ever closer. Yes, evil might be real, she thinks as she sinks her fangs and mandibles deep into his jugular, leaving him to bleed out into the dirt. But, there is indeed some good in the world too, as she scoops the wyrmling up and nestles them into her armor, safe until she can find them a new home. And someone needs to protect that.

Dang I'm busy the next few days, will have to pass on this round, but I would love to be added to the pinglist for future rounds! :D @elduwen

@mgcltwo will do! Thanks for asking! If it helps, you have all the way until the 22nd to finish!

@elduwen [img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/dressing-room/scry?sdid=1250811&skin=0&apparel=29221,20858,28784,29226,29231,29241,20860,20864,20863,30062&xt=dressing.png[/img] Voices, the voices. Whispers that never stopped. The voices talked endlessly. Never one at a time, it was always all at once. Never a moment of silence. The magic that flowed within her had been worn down by the voices. She had lost control. She was a danger, but not even she knew it. She could not think, for the only thing she heard was the voices. They talked and talked. One was in a language she didn't understand, another one had a thick accent, one had a snake like voice. The voices controlled her. The voices are what she knew. Nothing else could get to her, the voices were her life. She always looked sad, distant, confused. She could never understand what they were trying to tell her. They never made sense. They talked in riddles, constant never ending riddles. It's as if they didn't want her to understand, to let her suffer. She had become used to this, a life full of nothing but the voices in her own head. Her patience was gone, she was a hollow shell of the dragon she once was. One day. The voices stopped. They vanished. The constant chatter within her head was gone. Distress was all she felt, she had not known anything besides the voices. Without them she knew nothing. Her powers flared, blazing around her. The flames seemed to be controlled by something else. They weren't even flames, they were hands. Reaching out towards everything and burning anything they could touch. She could not process what was happening. The heat didn't affect her, for she was too confused. Her tears that slid down her face evaporated at the heat of the fiery arms that came from her. The area around her quickly became black, singed, and smoking. The fire no longer had anything to grab, nothing to destroy. The voices were free. They had taken control

Affiliate bump!

Bump!

Bump!

Bump!

[ 628 words total ] @elduwen [img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/dressing-room/scry?sdid=1259773&skin=32048&apparel=29244,770,32288,24519,28150,26884,301,32688,32689,32691,325&xt=dressing.png[/img] [b]Nebet-Het The Wandering Reaper[/b] Ever shifting, ever twining -- thus is the truth of the universe. Nothing stays, nothing remains eternal; it is all ash and dust, returning to nothing in the end. Tomorrow is a hope, never a promise. All of this, all of these she knew very well. O' daughter of shade, keeper of stars, she drifts across desert sand, over scorched wastes and crumbled ruins. Her journey is long, no end in sight - time slips between her claws, withering to nothing; and she feels none of it. How the voices echo within her, thrumming through her scales. How they whisper the lies of her supposed mother, the filth of her teachings, the shadowed depths of her faith. There is no true good and evil, tis truly a construct by dragonkind, to differentiate one another, to hold them above as superior over the inferior - yet there is still examples of true cruelty, true evil in a sense; it warps the senses, warps the mind. Was there really no true side, was it a blend of grey, mottled and stained with unsure philosophy, or was there a black and white? She has seen much in her time, by her eyes and not. Reality shifts; Time is nothing in its wake - to see the past, to see the future, she merely needed to think. So much she has seen, so much she has collected - fragmented memories, the histories of old, the thousands of paths the future could hold. All of it rings through her head, as she continues to drift over heated sand. Blood stains her thoughts, bleeding through to the next, darkened dragon claws soaked in the essence of their enemy. Vivid memories of bloodshed, of battles between clans, grass dyed deep reds; she drinks from abandoned fields, relishes in the copper on her tongue; tis frowned on to devour one another, but they were free to taste the flesh of animal and creature, drench their teeth in their blood. She has tasted the flesh of dragonkind. Eats the corpses left, devours scale, flesh, and bone. She cares naught for the confines of dragonkind’s laws, of their values and beliefs. Her mother declares there is no such thing as good and evil, and though she doesn’t believe that, she doesn’t care much either. So could there be such black and white, or is it truly an illusioned grey; she merely continues on, searching for the next passing fancy. ‘Evil’ are the bandits she slay, ‘good’ are the healers she dines upon. The universe does not discriminate -- all meet their end eventually. Perhaps that is her purpose, then? O’ descendant of the Beast, child of shadow and shade -- perhaps her purpose then is not to discriminate, and to merely complete, secure, the one truth of life; death. Everything must come to an end - that is the Truth of reality, of the universe. All shall know her in time, for all life is temporary, and she comes to claim it. Premature, or on time, she knows not nor does she care; those in her path shall find their end, by her teeth and claw, by warping magicks and deathly tricks. She feels not - none of it is received. There is no sadness in her actions, no shame, no glee. Nothing. Merely the drive of a purpose, a search for the truth - good and evil, what good is it, in the face of death? None have asked her to pick up this mantle, many weep and screech at such an act, but she lifts it all the same, settles along her shoulders, as she drifts through the lands, whispers constant in her ears. Across the sand, she smells a battle. She has tasted the flesh of dragonkind, drank their spilled blood, and so she hungers.