Roleplay

[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/wrsb0pp.png[/img][/center] The worn path the group was directed to follow reaches a grove of sorts, where barren trees are strangled by ivy, and among twisted vines and contorted roots the ground yields a surprising variety of plants including mushrooms, flowers, and shrubs. Some flourish, bright colors entrancing insects and rodents; strong limbs and straight stalks reach towards the sky. In this place, though, even the life which appears beautiful and innocent often proves to be deadly. Sweet flowers fold in on themselves to swallow naive visiting flies; bright berries coax a rat near enough for hungry purple tendrils to lash suddenly out. Others seem to have lost their virility, barely clinging to life. Their adaptations have failed to prevent the attachment of a parasitic fungus; the tables turn when prey oozes corrosive slime. The path breaks into three forks a short ways into the forest. The first path winds tightly, edges lined with brambles. The second is defined by a rickety bridge above what appears to be a muddy bog, which emits foul smelling gas. The last curves gently and seems relatively unencumbered, but is overgrown with swollen mushrooms. One pops quietly, letting a geyser of spores fly up, then settle slowly to the ground. None of the paths are without danger, and there is no hint as to which Polemos meant for the group to follow. A choice must be made- sneak gingerly through the thorns, rush over the noxious bog and hope the bridge holds, or find a way through the mushroom minefield. [i]OOC note: Once again, sorry for taking so long to get this posted. I completely forgot yesterday.[/i] @InkZylorn @MxMyaku @Rookery @Fatespinner @7thUtopia

[center][center][img]http://i.imgur.com/T4Xmnqg.png[/img][/center] [i]The Abiding Boneyard is a desolate and blank place, with little to no vegetation. It is a burial ground for thousands of dragons, lost in its midst for eternity. The Boneyard is rumored to house the spirits of those that have attempted to trek forward towards the cauldron that pulses in the middle of the Wasteland. Thousands attempt and thousands loose their way, as the Boneyard is as unforgiving as the Contagion. The arid, growing wastes that make up the majority of this land are broad and deadly, even for denizens hardened by biological adaptation. Those that do make it to the center and heart of the Wasteland, however, tell tales of those that have lost themselves in the desert that is the Boneyard, damned to wander for eternity, their spirits angry and explosive, prepared to do anything and everything to drag more down with them.[/i] The groups reach the Boneyard despite the trials of the Wandering Contagion. There are no obvious cues as to which way to move forward, just a seemingly endless landscape of ash and dust, punctuated by small thickets of brush and a multitude of bones from the many beasts which have fallen in these wastes. The sparse landscape is almost a relief having barely escaped the rapid paced growth and change of the Wandering Contagion. Still, the starkness is unsettling. What is it that seems to strangle even the most virile lifeforms in this region? How can you stave it off? The group notices suddenly that the shadows seem to be shifting around a nearby boulder. The dragons edge forward, looking closely, but can’t see anything there. Did you imagine it? Is the desolation playing tricks on your mind and your eyes already? A different shadow lurches, this time from within a massive skeleton, collapsed in an eternal admittance of defeat. This time, though, it is clear what’s moved- a scarred mirror brandishing a cleaver, bound with bandages and adorned with bones and feathers stalks forward. His threatening appearance puts the group on guard, but he hisses an assurance. [center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=12143034] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/121431/12143034_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] "[b]Relax, I am not here to harm you, nor will I be here long. I will rejoin my pack shortly, but I am here as your emissary from the Abiding Boneyard. The land here is harsh, and I have little aid to offer; only the strongest will survive, and only the strongest deserve to embrace the glory of the Plaguebringer[/b]. "[b]Polemos sent you with little to fight off the wrath of the Wasteland. I am here to offer you more.[/b]" Before the dragon appears several items, akin to the one given by the blank fae at the beginning of the Wasteland. The mirror points one sharp claw at an [i][b]enchanted blade[/b][/i]. "[b]This blade will prove handy against some of the less...corporeal enemies you may find here. Haven’t you heard?[/b]” he grinned, “[b]The Abiding Boneyard has had quite a few unfortunate travellers. Some of them aren’t gone, even though they’re long dead…[/b]" The item next to the blade appears to be some [i][b]mysterious potion[/b][/i], its contents murky and unclear. The mirror touches the cap gently and says, "[b]The horrors here are enough to make lesser dragons lose their wits; this brew will help keep you sane. While there are surely dangers that lurk in the Abiding Boneyard, many of those who fall here simply lose their way or waste time running from shadows.[/b]" The next item is a glowing [i][b]emblem[/b][/i], a glowing mark of Plague carved into stone. "[b]The Abiding Boneyard is abound with spirits of the fallen, many of which are unsettling and aggressive. This artifact is supposed to keep away the worst of the ghosts, leaving you with far fewer worries along the way,[/b]" the mirror said, though he grinned for a second. "[b]Or so they say.[/b]" He gazed one final time around the group of dragons, nudging the items closer to them. "[b]Go on now, choose.[/b]" With that, he abruptly turned and bolted off. In the distance he could be seen joining a flurry of movement as a dozen mirrors stampede across the desert, singly focused, a power to be reckoned with. [i]OOC note: Please decide on one thing WITHIN your group. You may discuss which is best. As soon as you make your decision, ping @FloatingInSpace and @N0B0DY and we will give you your next event. If you do not choose by rollover 10/19, we will assume what was last mentioned will be your choice.[/i] @InkZylorn @MxMyaku @Rookery @Fatespinner @7thUtopia

@InkZylorn @Rookery @Fatespinner @7thUtopia [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/110713/11071259p.png[/img] Friedrich jumped at the Mirror, keeping his distance from the dragon. But as he dashed off, the Nocturne finally felt safe enough to approach. A sword... Good for keeping away enemies, but do you really want to make enemies here? Another potion, supposed to keep your sanity. And an artifact to keep away ghosts that may or may not work. Scratching his jaw for a moment, the blue dragon finally spoke up, "I don't mean to go against anyone here, but..." He trotted over to the potion. "I believe zhis might... No it [i]would[/i] be of most use." It was clear, however, his correction was just to make himself sound more confident in his decision. But yet, he continued, "Who is with me?"

[center]@InkZylorn @stripedfrisk @Rookery @7thUtopia [img]http://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/156866/15686551p.png[/img][/center] Magma thought over the items carefully, eventually deciding to agree with Friedrich. [color=#000000]"[/color][color=#0D0100]I[/color] [color=#270401]s[/color][color=#340502]t[/color][color=#410703]a[/color][color=#4E0803]n[/color][color=#5C0A04]d[/color] [color=#760D05]w[/color][color=#830E06]i[/color][color=#901006]t[/color][color=#9D1107]h[/color] [color=#B81408]y[/color][color=#C51609]o[/color][color=#D2170A]u[/color][color=#DF190A].[/color][color=#EC1A0B]"[/color] after all what good is getting there if you lose your sanity.

[center][img]http://orig03.deviantart.net/809a/f/2015/284/f/1/ivre2_by_ovophobia-d9cqfn8.png[/img] @stripedfrisk @Rookery @7thUtopia @Fatespinner[/center] Tyve followed the group from the back, avoiding all social contact with them at the moment. She was one not to talk much, however she will if needed. Once the mirror appeared out, she watched in anticipation and interest. Why did a Mirror pop out of no where? As she listened to the dragon, her listening perked up at the options the most. She was a bit amused at the nocturne running off earlier to act so bold. She chuckled under her breathe before listening. This was true. It is best to stick with the potion for now. ''[color=red][b]I agree with Magma and Friedrich.[/b][/color]'' Tyve said nonchalantly as she walked over to the two.

[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/T4Xmnqg.png[/img][/center] The potion seemed only enough for each of the dragons to take a single sip from. It was purple and thick and seemed to sparkle when held to the light in a certain direction. The dragons had not been given any paths to take, but it seemed that the only way on was forward. The bones were all scattered about haphazardly and it seemed that there was to be no clear path given by the guide that had long since left. Trekking forward yielded nothing; no spirits, no noises, no wailing. The Boneyard seemed quiet. Too quiet. On the edges of their mind, the whispers began to grow. At first, they could have been mistaken for the wind. But as time wore on, it became clear that they were [i]voices,[/i] quiet, subtle, voices. They whispered about beings trapped in the Boneyard, damned to wander forever with an insatiable need for dragonic flesh. They whispered about great heroes and villains that had died fighting one another and how their souls were bound to wander and fight every being that resembled the mortal enemy that had ended their lives. They whispered about how the Boneyard was a graveyard, the largest graveyard, where those that had tried for honor and failed were buried; among the others that had attempted as well. The voices were growing louder, whispering more and more. The dragons could drink from the vial, but before them were miles and miles of Boneyard. There was no telling what else lay in store. @InkZylorn @stripedfrisk@Rookery @Fatespinner @7thUtopia

[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/QLBOOXd.png[/img][/center] [center][i]It is said that the ring of this immense crater is both a welcome sight and bittersweet image of pilgrims who challenge themselves in the boneyard. However, dragons should be wary of the Rotrock Rim, as even the earth beneath them is alive and festering.[/i] [i]The Plaguebringer herself is rumored to have blessed the plants that lie so close to the bubbling Wyrmwound. A popular rumor claims that the plants are extensions of the god herself. Some others say that the Wasteland is a living and breathing creature and that every plant is actually part of this creature. Whatever the case, the Rotrock Rim is one of the most dangerous parts of the Wasteland. Festering with life, the Rim is not something to be underestimated. Nothing is sacred. Nothing is safe.[/i] Nothing awaits the dragons when they arrive at the Rim, broken and battered from the tedious trek through the Boneyard. There are no dragons standing before tables, no creaking signs telling them where to go. There is nothing before them that says what they might find ahead and no objects that stand out among the writhing mess of roots and branches. In fact, there are nothing but roots and branches before the dragons. Some shift slowly, like rolling waves. Others twitch, jerking and jumping every second or so. Some have boils that burst and liquid oozes out from the newly formed sores. A few have other plants growing on them; flowers that are bright yet dying, their petals brown and withered; mushroom caps that are red and beady, like eyes; and grasses that are a dull brown color but seem to sway in the nonexistent wind. A shadow suddenly passes over the dragons and a sudden [i]whoosh[/i] is heard. Glancing up, a dragon in the sky hovers above them. [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=7917283] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/79173/7917283_350.png[/img] [/url] The dragon is as golden as the sun, with armor that can be heard clinking above them. They do not seem keen to land and instead drop a satchel in their claws down below before the dragons. Inside the satchel is a [b]set of daggers, [/b] sharp and shiny and ready to be wielded. There are also a few jars of a [b]mysterious liquid[/b] that are bottled and corked. A single small bag is also in the satchel. Opening it, [b]fine red powder [/b]can be found. It appears to be a mix of Cerdae Sparkle and crushed up Bloodstones. The dragon turns to them and begins to speak, their voice quiet and getting lost among the rustling plants. "[b]Daggers are for stabbing the plants. Careful you don't pop a boil or agitate them more! That liquid is used to help prevent any roots from latching onto your skin. It is slippery and sticky enough that you can just peel it off, like a sort of wrap with the roots. That powder you see? Some claim that is able to clog the sense of creatures here. Whether or not it does, well. We'll see.[/b]" There was a sudden rumbling sound and the dragons swore, darting off. Suddenly, the landscape came to life. Roots lashed out and latched onto their legs, dragging them downwards to entomb them forever. The roots tightened around their legs, almost as if to dig themselves in and root the dragons to the spot, to serve as permanent statues and reminders to the Wasteland's might. As the dragons moved, the branches from nearby trees suddenly began to move like whips, lashing and scarring their hides. None seemed able to draw blood yet, but the welts left behind were painful enough. There was no telling whether or not anything on the branches were poisonous or sharp enough to puncture a dragon's hide, but it was best not to dwell on it. Then, a different sound is heard. The sound of thousands of skittering legs, inching closer and closer to the dragons, hardened by the Wasteland and no doubt crawling with diseases. Some could be seen with their pincers opening and shutting, staring at the dragons with beady red eyes. The Rim was closing in, preparing for its next victims. And the dragons were soon to be it, if they didn't act quick enough.[/center] @InkZylorn @stripedfrisk@Rookery @Fatespinner @7thUtopia