Roleplay

@Dragongirl00100
Want to post your chars here? I will update this post with mine soon ^^

Alright! [b]Dragon:[/b] [img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=1&body=10&bodygene=17&breed=2&element=6&eyetype=1&gender=0&tert=157&tertgene=8&winggene=1&wings=10&auth=9d935116d107afd4ae360a14fae2aa0f96ef7073&dummyext=prev.png[/img] *This is a scry* [i]Name:[/i] Ciardubhan [i]Nickname:[/i] Ciar [i]Aliases:[/i] Shadow [i]Rider:[/i] Jorn Doran [i]Age:[/i] 20 years [i]Description:[/i] Ciar boasts scales as black as the night sky, giving him the near-perfect ability to camouflage in shadows, the night sky, and most other dark surfaces. He's an effective nighttime hunter, using the darkness to his advantage. Ciar looks almost exactly the same as the dragon above, only with amber eyes and a dark, leather saddle strapped around his shoulders. The saddle is thin but reliable, boasting hooks for bags and things to be tied to, and straps to secure a rider in place. [i]History:[/i] Ciar is a rather young dragon. He was bred prior to the war's beginning, specifically to play a part in it. As a hatchling, he was hand-picked by Jorn and sent for specialized training as his dark coloration would fit the role that needed to be filled well. At eight years old, his training was considered mostly finished; there was nothing else the trainer could teach him for his future, so he was shipped back to his rider. Two years after, Ciar’s training was completed and Jorn took his place as Spymaster, shortly before the war began. During the conflict, the duo spent many days and nights in the field, gathering what they could before rushing back home, earning themselves a bit of a reputation. However, Ciar and Jorn’s careers were brought to an abrupt end when the war finished, leaving the world devastated. With little else left to them, Ciar and Jorn were left to survive in the remains of the country they once served. [i]Other:[/i] N/A [b]Human:[/b] [i]Name:[/i] Jorn Doran [i]Nickname:[/i] N/A [i]Aliases:[/i] Silas [i]Dragon:[/i] Ciardubhan [i]Age:[/i] 35 years [i]Description:[/i] Jorn is a tall, dark-skinned man with strange, amber eyes. His right arm is tattooed, a custom from his former people. He wears a simple, beige tunic and pants, with a leather vest, leather boots, and an almost black cloak. He carries a short-sword and several knives, as well as a bow and arrows. [i]History:[/i] Jorn was originally born outside of the country he eventually served, with a name he no longer uses and no one else knows save for what few remaining relatives he has. Living as a pickpocket for several years, he eventually became rather good at hiding and picking up little bits of important conversations. He eventually made some career from finding and selling information, and, when he was fifteen, was chosen for spy work. He rose in rank quickly, catching the eye of the current Spymaster and getting chosen as his successor, which came with the benefit of handpicking a dragon for himself. Through this, Jorn found and chose Ciar, who was then sent for training. Ten years later, Ciar and Jorn’s training was completed, and Jorn took his place as Spymaster just before the war began. During the conflict, they spent long stretches of time in the field, gathering what they could in terms of information before returning home. Through this, they earned a reputation; however, their careers ended abruptly when the war ended, leaving both Ciar and Jorn to survive on their own. [i]Other:[/i] N/A (Finished!)

@Dragongirl00100 I'm subbed, by the way, and if you want to be as well, you can press the star button next to the new thread button at the top right :) Saves a ping if you didn't know ^w^ Dragon: [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13741852] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/137419/13741852_350.png[/img] [/url] [b]Name:[/b] Aeira [b]Age: [/b]16 human years [b]Bio: [/b]Orphaned in the egg prior to the war on account of human hunters, she was found by Renell and hatched in his care. She was kept secret in the woods, and she grew up healthy and strong with him. She did not partake in the wars and the subsequent destruction, but tried to survive with her human companion through those dark days. She still remains kind and caring today, but she is also a formidable foe, having learned various fighting techniques to keep them safe. [b]Description: [/b]Her iridescent scales seem to change color slightly depending on her mood, though they tend to remain their typical hues of happy and calm. A necklace adorns her breast, one made by her companion and is something she holds dear. She bears a simple harness that allows Renell to move about her while in flight, though he usually sits in the saddle by the base of her neck, a little ways ahead of her wings. Slung under them, tied into the harness are a pair of saddlebags on either side of her belly, with netting in between or any cargo or belongings they have. Human: [b]Name:[/b] Renell [b]Nickname: [/b]Ren [b]Age: [/b]26 years [b]Bio: [/b]Soft spoken and quiet, he prefers to keep the peace. He found Aeira's egg as a child, but was able to keep her his personal secret until she became too big to handle. Still, through his teenage years, he kept her out of the way, until war broke out, and they ran away, trying to escape the carnage. [b]Description: [/b]Brunette with rough, tousled hair and dark, inky eyes. He's not much to look at, a little thin but average height. His clothing choice is odd, blending his dragon into his cloak and pants, almost forming an armor of sorts. Otherwise, he wears gear suited for high flying - a mask over his nose and mouth, a thick cloak over a tunic and pants, and fabric shoes, if he's even wearing any. He normally has a hand and a half sword as well as a simple bow for hunting.

Bursting from the low clouds, the Imperial churred happily as the pond came into view. She landed softly, letting Ren off her back to stretch his legs before helping herself to the watering hole. The parched dragoness drank thirstily while Ren began to fill their collection of waterskins.

"Hey, hey, don't drink so fast," he said with a laugh, "otherwise you'll be to fat to fly." Aeira merely ignored him, perfectly fine with drinking her fill, even if it made her too heavy. Their water supply had gotten dangerously low, for the last few wells and springs had since been contaminated or dried up.

The Imperial, having sated herself, retreated a small ways away onto some warm stone, curling up with a contented rumble. She was glad to rest her weary wings, having essentially flown nonstop for the last couple of days. Ren let her be, using the time to tally their supplies. It seemed they would be alright for another few days. Such were the perils of a nomadic life, he reasoned, while he sat down next to his dragon's foreleg. He unbuttoned his cloak and unfolded his map, crossing out the no longer usable water sources.

(Starting off in the windswept Plateau)

Ciar soared several hundred feet in the sky, riding drafts to conserve what little was left of his energy. They had departed from The Tangled Wood yesterday morning, and he hadn't had a drink or a meal or a moment of rest since. He shook himself awake for what felt like the millionth time since their departure; he couldn't stop now. Not yet.

To his relief, the odd, circular formations of the Tsunami Flats came into view. They'd be there in just a few more minutes, he figured. He shifted, tilting slightly into a slow descent, doing his best to avoid jostling his rider. He landed ungracefully on the shore, wings and legs shuddering from exhaustion. Settling down in the sand, he twisted his head around, gently nosing his rider to consciousness.

"Ciar," Jorn murmured, reaching out to stroke the dragon's face with a bandaged arm. With a groan, he managed to pull himself upright and undo the straps keeping him in the saddle. Ciar lowered himself as much as he could, easing his rider's half-slide, half-fall dismount. The dragon licked his lips thirstily, following his hobbling rider towards the pools.

"Oh..." Jorn said, disappointment clear in his voice. The pools were all empty save for a few small puddles of contaminated water. Unconsciously, he cradled his bandaged right arm in his left, shoulder throbbing from a wound that had gone far too long without tending. Ciar knew without his rider saying a word; there was no water here. He huffed, lowering himself again so Jorn could mount.

"No, my friend," his rider said. "You're too tired to go on, we'll make do here."

Ciar was tired, yes. But he was also worried. He growled, sniffing at his rider's injured arm.

"I know, I know. But there's nothing else for us to do," Jorn whispered. "Come now, there's a cave over there. Get some sleep. You'll fall out of the sky, the way you're going," Jorn added, giving the dragon a hearty smile. Ciar gave a dragonish sigh in defeat, letting Jorn climb onto his back for the short trek to the cave.

(So they're currently an ocean apart, was that intentional?)

Aeira murmured softly when she woke, finding Ren tending a small fire with a pot bubbling cheerily away on a makeshift platform. He smiled lightly at her.

"How you feeling, love?" He asked, reaching out to stroke her snout gently. She warbled in response, clearly feeling much more energized. "Well, if that nap was enough for you, I'm making something to eat. Why don't you go hunt? I think I saw something moving in the bamboo... or, what's left of it." The words tasted bitter in his mouth. This was their home for the longest time, and even after everything went so very very wrong, they still spent the majority of their time around the region. It, along with the Sunbeam Ruins and Southern Icefield, was one of the most hospitable places now. He unhitched the saddlebags and netting, letting them settle to the earth before the Imperial dragoness ran off, disappearing quickly.

They had spent much of their time after the war ended flying about, scavenging what they could. At first the Sea was still rather friendly to life, in some areas at least, but the war had ravaged it, and now, while still a sea, was toxic and acrid. Ren was not looking forward to their upcoming flight. Normally, they would fly across the Sea for the Light region, island hopping as they went, but this time of year, the low hanging, acidic clouds were not exactly friendly to living creatures. They would go around, skirting around the Plague and Shadow lands.

The broth boiled feverishly, and Ren lifted it off the fire gingerly, replacing it with a hare he had trapped earlier in the morning. Doling out a small amount of the stew, he cupped the bowl and drank slowly while waiting for the Imperial's return.

She appeared to have a successful hunt, judging by her bloodied maw and the carcass in her clutches. She landed roughly, clearly pleased with herself, crowing slightly before strutting off to clean herself. That left Ren with the deer, mostly bones, but he cut away strips to be dried and preserved, and skinned what he could of the pelt. He was loathe to waste the bones, but they had plenty in better shape, so let them be. He let his dragon finish off the stew, downing it in a single gulp.

A few hours later, with the Imperial watered, fed, and rested, and the fresh kill preserved, it was time for them to move on. The sun was nearing the horizon, but that did not deter the duo. After hitching and harnessing their belongings back onto Aeira, she took off towards the dying sun, then banked north, hugging the coast. It was going to be another long flight, but there were few places to rest. He gave himself to sleep on the back of his dragon, knowing she'd wake him if needed.

(Yup, though they're heading towards your characters)

Ciar did not sleep very long, or very well, anxious as he was. He was awake in fewer hours than his rider could count on one hand, still tired, hungry, thirsty, and generally irritated as a result of it all. He felt Jorn's weight leaning on his shoulder and turned his head to look at him. The man was still far too pale for the dragon's liking, and he was sure that in more peaceful times, his rider would've been confined inside by other humans.

But what bothered him the most was that his rider leaned against him, unconscious. It went against every aspect of the training they underwent; there must always, always, be one awake in a group, in case they needed to beat a hasty retreat or defend themselves from some attack. He found himself growing rather angry, pulling his lips back in a silent snarl, cursing that... thing... and himself. But he knew they needed to move on and find some water and food and help, so, as much as he hated doing it, he leaned down and nudged his rider awake for the second time that day.

"Time to go now, my friend?" Jorn mumbled, cracking his eyes open. Ciar nudged him again in response. The man sighed, gripping Ciar's horn in his left hand and using it to pull himself up. Ciar nosed him into the saddle, watching as his rider fastened the straps around his legs. Satisfied, he slowly exited the cave and lueaped into the sky, doing his best to ignore the burning and shaking in his wings as he headed south.

(Awesome, I'm sure my chars will be happy to help :P)

Ren cursed under his breath as he lowered the spyglass from his eye, tucking it neatly into its casing by the side of the saddle. "Storms ahead, you seem 'em, bud?" That certainly threw a wrench into their plans. The night had passed without much issue, and around midnight, Aeira had roused him for her to take a quick nap.

He had been quite frightened when he first realized that dragons could (and would, often) sleep on the wing, but now, it was just another way of life. But at the present, he was worried about the brewing storm, not far off in the distance. The early rays of sun did not ease his fears as the rolling, flashing clouds drew close. Beneath him, he felt the Imperial's muscles rolling powerfully under her scales and hide as she corrected against the gusting wind, barely edging out the storm front as it bore down upon them.

The rider huddled against his dragon's back, having faith that she would traverse the foul weather safely. They grazed the outer edges of the clouds, occasionally blasted by wind and rain, but nothing the Imperial could not handle. It was around midday that they finally broke free, rounding about the other side and into calm air.

"That was a big one, eh?" He said with a chuckle, taking off his cloak to let it dry. Ren patted Aeira's neck as she warbled, looking back to check on him. "I'm fine, quit fretting, you," he said, smiling. Her wings shimmered wetly, but the glistening soon faded away as they continued on. Checking his maps, he was pleasantly surprised to find that they were nearly to the Shadow lands already, having traversed normally a day and a half's journey in a third of the time. "You really know how to find those tailwinds," he said, praising the Imperial. She had always been a fine flier, and Ren was proud of her for that.

It wasn't too long after, that she suddenly perked up, swiveling to look a few points off to port. Raising his spyglass, Ren quickly picked out the shadowy dragon, flying far lower than they were. Perhaps they were friendly? Aeira warbled a question, looking back, and her rider nodded. She let her nose drop and her wings fall back slightly as she dove slightly, aiming for the other dragon in the distance.

(Sorry for the late reply... I had classes last night and this morning. Anyway, will the dragons be able to talk to each other?)

Ciar growled at the sight of the large, dark storm cloud in his path. A quick scan of the horizon told him it was too big to avoid, not without adding many more miles to the trip, a distance he wasn't sure he could cover. Making a decision, he angled towards the ground once again; he couldn't fly around or over the thing, and he certainly wasn't about to go through it in their condition. Even if he managed to stay in the sky, the drenching would likely leave his rider too ill to survive.

Mind made, he began scanning the ground for a sufficient shelter, knowing he would have to double back to the cave they had slept in if he didn't find one soon. Finally spotting what might have been a decent spot, he angled towards it, growling with annoyance when he met the resistance of a headwind. He was briefly distracted by a scent carried on the wind: another dragon, and close by, though he couldn't see it yet. Startled, and perhaps a little frightened, he dropped sharply out of the headwind, gliding down to the shelter as quickly as he thought his rider could manage.

There was a chance this dragon was an enemy. They'd encountered several out here already, and he could not fight one off with his rider injured on his back. Perhaps the dragon would not notice them or simply choose to pass them by. He found both outcomes unlikely. Surely if the scent was so fresh, the dragon was near. It'd smell him soon if it hadn't already, and perhaps it'd already seen him. His black scales made for excellent camouflage at night and in dark places, but they meant that he stuck out like a rock in the snow among clouds and blue sky.

He figured the dragon wouldn't simply ignore them since it was rather difficult to find survivors, now. Besides, had this been any other time, Jorn and Ciar would be flying towards this newcomer instead of away. But now, despite the small possibility that they had finally, finally run into someone friendly, Ciar couldn't risk it.

(Don't worry about it, irl stuff comes first :) I'm a student as well so I totally understand. As for dragons talking, of course! Aeira and Ren can talk, but she's normally the silent type ^^)

Ren studied the other dragon as they approached. He soon was able to make out enough to identify the shadowy dragon as a Guardian, but not much else. He kept his gaze on the other. Afterall, better to be safe than sorry. Aeira appeared to harbor the same sentiments as she glided down, making herself as obvious as she could to gauge the other's intentions. This was perhaps a little difficult given her light coloration that tended to blend with the sky.

Her ears sudden perked up as she saw the Guardian dip down, diving for the ground. Whether that be to avoid the weather or themselves she was not sure, but what she did see was a human slumped over on his back. Her eyes narrowed, she tucked in her own wings and dove after the other dragon, leaving her human to cling on for dear life.

"Woah woah woah! What are you doing!?" Ren yelped, grasping the handholds to the side of the saddle as he pulled himself in close to his dragon's back. "What's gotten into ya?" He cried, squinting against the wind blasting against his face. At Aeira's insistence, he fumbled out his spyglass and took another look.

"Oh..." he said plainly, letting his hand fall to his side. The Imperial had leveled out, more or less, but had removed much of the distance between herself and the Guardian. Even with the naked eye Ren could see the slumped figure on the Guardian's back, as well as the dragon's trembling wingbeats.

"They look hurt..." he said softly, and his dragon warbled affirmatively, "well...let's see if they'll accept our help, I guess? Who knows, maybe they're friendly enough." The Imperial looked back forward, following the other dragon at a respectful distance as he dove for shelter. Aeira circled about overhead, waiting for any other activity, then landed softly nearby. Ren slipped down from her back, hesitant, he led the way, walking in front of the Imperial towards the cave slowly.