((don't mind me just going to yeet in some action for the zomboes. You can feast on either or both of them if you like.))
Location: A few miles away from the Curala Camp
@/Malsain and @/Salem
The smells here were a lot more clean then most other flights. Although the smell of far away rot was still clinging to the wind like stale bread crumbs and the grass was limp from the amount of rot being carried into the plateau, it was much more clean and fresh then the rest of the continent.
Two dragons snuck through and crossed the borders, finally. They were getting closer to the camp they heard about from the seekers. Camp Curala. The only camp big enough to house entire families within its walls without the risk of rapid contamination. The snapper held his back leg up, gingerly putting weight on it when he had too. His grass green scales were thickly coated in mud and his face was painted in filth like a mask in an attempt to help hide his brighter features. The dragon in front of him was a Skydancer with goggles on and dark blue scales and bright blue wings. His left arm had been clawed up and was green with disease, but still operational enough. The blue one crouched down behind a boulder to look across the grass, hoping the shadows being casted on the two by the walls of reeds would help hide them both. The Snapper limped up behind him.
"What now?" the snapper asked.
"Well we got to get to that camp. They might have a cure and Rusla is counting on it," said the male Skydancer. The snapper tilted his head and looked concern.
"And what about you? What if they don't have enough of the cure to help you?" he asked. The Skydancer shook his head.
"It doesn't matter... Rusla is more important. She has siblings to protect. I don't think she wants to find one of them in her mouth. If I die, at least it will be out here and as far away from her," the skydancer said selflessly. His voice was raised in order to emphasize the importance of self sacrifice. The snapper winced, hoping that wasn't loud enough to alert any zombies that might be out of sight.
((don't mind me just going to yeet in some action for the zomboes. You can feast on either or both of them if you like.))
Location: A few miles away from the Curala Camp
@/Malsain and @/Salem
The smells here were a lot more clean then most other flights. Although the smell of far away rot was still clinging to the wind like stale bread crumbs and the grass was limp from the amount of rot being carried into the plateau, it was much more clean and fresh then the rest of the continent.
Two dragons snuck through and crossed the borders, finally. They were getting closer to the camp they heard about from the seekers. Camp Curala. The only camp big enough to house entire families within its walls without the risk of rapid contamination. The snapper held his back leg up, gingerly putting weight on it when he had too. His grass green scales were thickly coated in mud and his face was painted in filth like a mask in an attempt to help hide his brighter features. The dragon in front of him was a Skydancer with goggles on and dark blue scales and bright blue wings. His left arm had been clawed up and was green with disease, but still operational enough. The blue one crouched down behind a boulder to look across the grass, hoping the shadows being casted on the two by the walls of reeds would help hide them both. The Snapper limped up behind him.
"What now?" the snapper asked.
"Well we got to get to that camp. They might have a cure and Rusla is counting on it," said the male Skydancer. The snapper tilted his head and looked concern.
"And what about you? What if they don't have enough of the cure to help you?" he asked. The Skydancer shook his head.
"It doesn't matter... Rusla is more important. She has siblings to protect. I don't think she wants to find one of them in her mouth. If I die, at least it will be out here and as far away from her," the skydancer said selflessly. His voice was raised in order to emphasize the importance of self sacrifice. The snapper winced, hoping that wasn't loud enough to alert any zombies that might be out of sight.
Tala sighed when she got no response, and continued on towards the medic tent. She pushed aside the flap serving as a door, and stepped inside, eyes trained on the ground. Time to go back to pretending to be a meek, shy dragoness who never raised her voice above a whisper. It was annoying, really. She had a personality. And it wasn't this.
Tala sighed when she got no response, and continued on towards the medic tent. She pushed aside the flap serving as a door, and stepped inside, eyes trained on the ground. Time to go back to pretending to be a meek, shy dragoness who never raised her voice above a whisper. It was annoying, really. She had a personality. And it wasn't this.
[center][url=https://imgbb.com/][img]https://i.ibb.co/T1hfxkZ/image.png[/img][/url][/center]
[center][b][i]Diath[/i][/b][/center]
[center]Location: A few miles away from Curala Camp
Interaction: Open [/center]
Diath lands on the ground and checking an abandoned camp, he carefully checks the camp for any clues of the survivors.
"From the ash of the campfire it seems this camp had been abandoned not long time ago." Diath touches the ash on the ground and looks around. "No trace of fighting nor any leaving resources, looks like this camp is just a temperory place for a short rest. So where do those survivors went?" Diath stops and thinks a bit. "However, in this direction I keep going with, the trace of survivors become more and more easy to find. It means..... perhaps they are heading towards a place where has the ability to defend the survivors." Diath looks at the distance. "Although sleep or eat is not necessary for me as a 'Mortus', it is dangerous to stay individually. I need to find a place like a survivor gathering place, but I also need to be careful." Diath flies towards distance.
Diath
Location: A few miles away from Curala Camp
Interaction: Open
Diath lands on the ground and checking an abandoned camp, he carefully checks the camp for any clues of the survivors.
"From the ash of the campfire it seems this camp had been abandoned not long time ago." Diath touches the ash on the ground and looks around. "No trace of fighting nor any leaving resources, looks like this camp is just a temperory place for a short rest. So where do those survivors went?" Diath stops and thinks a bit. "However, in this direction I keep going with, the trace of survivors become more and more easy to find. It means..... perhaps they are heading towards a place where has the ability to defend the survivors." Diath looks at the distance. "Although sleep or eat is not necessary for me as a 'Mortus', it is dangerous to stay individually. I need to find a place like a survivor gathering place, but I also need to be careful." Diath flies towards distance.
[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/134792160426983424/756517481765535876/wt5aytoe.png[/img][/center]
[center][b]Montie[/b][/center]
[center][b]Location[/b]: Curala Wall[/center]
[center][b]Interactions Open[/b][/center]
Montie's hind leg came up to scratch at his cheek, not much different than a dog would. Putting it down, he gave a stretch and a yawn, joints popping as his muscles strained.
Staring forward, that's what he'd been doing for the past few hours, or at least been trying to do. He constantly found his eyes wandering on other things like trees, bugs, the sky, and even his own feet. Guard duty was hard. Well, at least for Montie's needle-thin attention span. It was just so boring. There wasn't a sign of anything interesting for miles, and he was starting to wonder if he was even needed. A bunch of measly meatbags dragging themselves in circles in the mud weren't threats. Surely the other guard would come back by now- it was their spot he was filling after all. A slouch took over his frame, eyes looking left the right before he sat down in the dirt.
Montie
Location: Curala Wall
Interactions Open
Montie's hind leg came up to scratch at his cheek, not much different than a dog would. Putting it down, he gave a stretch and a yawn, joints popping as his muscles strained.
Staring forward, that's what he'd been doing for the past few hours, or at least been trying to do. He constantly found his eyes wandering on other things like trees, bugs, the sky, and even his own feet. Guard duty was hard. Well, at least for Montie's needle-thin attention span. It was just so boring. There wasn't a sign of anything interesting for miles, and he was starting to wonder if he was even needed. A bunch of measly meatbags dragging themselves in circles in the mud weren't threats. Surely the other guard would come back by now- it was their spot he was filling after all. A slouch took over his frame, eyes looking left the right before he sat down in the dirt.
yeehaw
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/N4VK9ns.png[/img][/center]
[center]Open for interaction![/center]
Zam sat in a corner, sharpening his blade. His gaze shifted from the hilt to the fuller as he continued running the whetstone across the sides. His ears perked up as he listened vigorously to the sound of dragons chattering within the walls. He twisted his neck to look to the inner layer of the wall. His ears pinned back as he sniffed.
The filthy drench of rotting was stronger now, probably because the infected were approaching. He had a slight snarl before turning back to look at his blade, staring at his own reflection. He paused, then resumed gripping the stone in his talons. He stood up, looking around. The smell stung to his snout like a toxic gas, almost making him hurl, yet- he resisted the urge.
He looked to his sides as he stood, walking forward to the wall, looking up the side.
Open for interaction!
Zam sat in a corner, sharpening his blade. His gaze shifted from the hilt to the fuller as he continued running the whetstone across the sides. His ears perked up as he listened vigorously to the sound of dragons chattering within the walls. He twisted his neck to look to the inner layer of the wall. His ears pinned back as he sniffed.
The filthy drench of rotting was stronger now, probably because the infected were approaching. He had a slight snarl before turning back to look at his blade, staring at his own reflection. He paused, then resumed gripping the stone in his talons. He stood up, looking around. The smell stung to his snout like a toxic gas, almost making him hurl, yet- he resisted the urge.
He looked to his sides as he stood, walking forward to the wall, looking up the side.
|
• Zan/Sri
• He/Him
• Gay lad
|
• Art shop
• Artist ~ Role`player
|
|
[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/rp/2907004/12#post_44671088][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/200914/6dcdf2dc4c61bd2ea65b868a17b76fdc.png[/img][/url]
[b]Location:[/b] Border between Ashfall Wastes & Sea of a Thousand currents
[Getting close to Wind Flight borders]
[emoji=left wing size=1] [b]Current Role:[/b] Loner [emoji=right wing size=1]
[b]Interactions:[/b] Open!
[rule]
As the automaton began to focus once more on the path he was taking, Red noticed something in the distance... Was it greens? It was hard to tell. He also noticed that the cliff path was starting to ascend upward.
Finally! He'd be able to get away from seeing the vast water out of the corner of his eyes. While traveling along the cliffs, Code Red had noticed that the waters seemed even more foreboding, probably from the plague that was going on. The mechanical mirror began to hasten his pace slightly, excited with the idea of being on level ground and getting as far away from water as possible.
Now the question was if he'd find any other survivors. He hoped once he'd cross into the Windswept Plateau he'd be able to find someone who could possibly fix him up. Then again, that was wishful thinking...
[rule]
Location: Border between Ashfall Wastes & Sea of a Thousand currents
[Getting close to Wind Flight borders]
Current Role: Loner
Interactions: Open!
As the automaton began to focus once more on the path he was taking, Red noticed something in the distance... Was it greens? It was hard to tell. He also noticed that the cliff path was starting to ascend upward.
Finally! He'd be able to get away from seeing the vast water out of the corner of his eyes. While traveling along the cliffs, Code Red had noticed that the waters seemed even more foreboding, probably from the plague that was going on. The mechanical mirror began to hasten his pace slightly, excited with the idea of being on level ground and getting as far away from water as possible.
Now the question was if he'd find any other survivors. He hoped once he'd cross into the Windswept Plateau he'd be able to find someone who could possibly fix him up. Then again, that was wishful thinking...
|
 Avatar Switcher
 ROBOTS!
 Mirror Addict!
 Semi-Gen 1 Lair
|
|
> Wylloe | Wyl
> They/Them
> +0 FR Time
|
|
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/fwbzQcq.png[/img]
[i][b]Malsain - a few miles off Curala Camp
int. with ChickenDinner and GloryFlarea
[/i][/b]. [u]_______[/u] .[/center]
The monsters from his group perked up with the scent of fresh meat, immediately following the chatter. The massive ridgeback shambles and lumbers slowly, bones pressing harshly against paper thin skin. The two mirrors followed behind and circled Malsain, though they seemed more cautious than hungry for his flesh. Perhaps they were protective in their life?
Malsain shuddered as his stomach twisted, demanding at least something to fill it. Though he would certainly catch some kind of wind disease from the grass, it was becoming more and more appetizing by the second. Perhaps the dragons wouyld have something on them? Well, there's only one way to find out. [i]I'm sorry, little ones.[/i]
He didn't know which one would be safer to follow, but by the time he was close enough to get a good look at these poor dragons, the group leader was already terrorizing them, stabbing and stomping viciously in hopes to spear one of them. There wouldn't be hide, hair, or fiber left of these dragons even if there were leftovers, as the twin zombies abandon his side momentarily in order to corner the dragons. He would just preen Leader of the plaguebrush and other things still wrapped about its body. That would have to due.
Malsain threw a wary glance at the metallic purple zombie, but felt a little comfortable with diverted attention. A fortress wall looms in the distance.
Malsain - a few miles off Curala Camp
int. with ChickenDinner and GloryFlarea
.
_______ .
The monsters from his group perked up with the scent of fresh meat, immediately following the chatter. The massive ridgeback shambles and lumbers slowly, bones pressing harshly against paper thin skin. The two mirrors followed behind and circled Malsain, though they seemed more cautious than hungry for his flesh. Perhaps they were protective in their life?
Malsain shuddered as his stomach twisted, demanding at least something to fill it. Though he would certainly catch some kind of wind disease from the grass, it was becoming more and more appetizing by the second. Perhaps the dragons wouyld have something on them? Well, there's only one way to find out.
I'm sorry, little ones.
He didn't know which one would be safer to follow, but by the time he was close enough to get a good look at these poor dragons, the group leader was already terrorizing them, stabbing and stomping viciously in hopes to spear one of them. There wouldn't be hide, hair, or fiber left of these dragons even if there were leftovers, as the twin zombies abandon his side momentarily in order to corner the dragons. He would just preen Leader of the plaguebrush and other things still wrapped about its body. That would have to due.
Malsain threw a wary glance at the metallic purple zombie, but felt a little comfortable with diverted attention. A fortress wall looms in the distance.
|
IT/XE/HE - 20
WISH LIST
ART SHOP
"Somewhere deep inside me fester memories and dreams.."
|
Location: A few miles off Camp Curala (in visual distance from the Curala Wall)
@/Malsain - @/Salem
The two dragons shrieked, trying to dart for the skies. The snapper was unable to push off as well as he could with his back leg injured, hindering his ability to get off the ground quickly. The skydancer flew up in a blind panic as the shrieks and cries of his companion getting trampled and stabbed fueled him further into the sky. He spiraled out of control as the nose of the ridgeback hit his wing. He faltered and scrambled to get back up into the air but he was out of control. The last thing he did before crashing down was taking out some sort of conch shell. The blasting sound of the distress beacon came from the horn once, twice, thrice, fourth, fifth, si- before being cut off with a crunch under the Skydancer's weight. It wasn't long before he was impaled by his own shell as the foot came down onto him and splitting his chest open. Now he was left unmoving in the grass, no longer struggling as he did before. The snapper's hide was thick enough to withstand the Ridgeback's attacks. Like his species was known for, he hunkered down into a little ball, protecting his underbelly, and becoming an impenetrable rock anchor to the ground. His hide protected him from the weakened spear like nose of the ridgeback, and he would stay there until help arrived. The sound of horns could be heard from miles and miles away.... the fortress began to stir...
Location: The Curala Wall and the borders
Possible Interactions with: @/Montie - @/Zam - @/Diath - @/CodeRed
The sound of a horn carried far and wide. The sound came from the borders. Five long blares of a horn, cut off halfway during the sixth blare. It was clear that this was a distress beacon. Somebody was in trouble.
The guard that was meant to take Montie's shift came up and before she could say anything, she paused. Every guard's head turned towards the sound, almost in unison. They squinted, listening to the horn. One, two, three..... One, two, thre.... it cut off. The guards all exchanged glances before the female meant to take Montie's place nodded.
"It's a distress beacon boys! There are survivors out there! Grab your weapons and let the next shift take watch. Somebody alert the trainers and the head guard. Hurry!" she shouted over to those on the walls. A coatl zipped off towards the training area while a fae zoomed off to the General's Tent to alert the head guard that they were taking off to rescue a few stragglers that were in trouble. The guards that were finishing their shifts launched into the air, grabbed their weapons, and began to head over to the sound. The dragon besides Montie launched after bumping him with his wing for him to follow.
The Coatl landed in front of Zam and saluted quickly before relaying the message, "The previous shift heard a distress beacon and are going to head over there to assist the survivors in trouble. The next shift is keeping watch while they are away. They wanted to alert you of this, sir."
The coatl, despite having a soft voice, had a determined face on, hoping the cadets would be alright with handling the distress beacon.
Location: A few miles off Camp Curala (in visual distance from the Curala Wall)
@/Malsain - @/Salem
The two dragons shrieked, trying to dart for the skies. The snapper was unable to push off as well as he could with his back leg injured, hindering his ability to get off the ground quickly. The skydancer flew up in a blind panic as the shrieks and cries of his companion getting trampled and stabbed fueled him further into the sky. He spiraled out of control as the nose of the ridgeback hit his wing. He faltered and scrambled to get back up into the air but he was out of control. The last thing he did before crashing down was taking out some sort of conch shell. The blasting sound of the distress beacon came from the horn once, twice, thrice, fourth, fifth, si- before being cut off with a crunch under the Skydancer's weight. It wasn't long before he was impaled by his own shell as the foot came down onto him and splitting his chest open. Now he was left unmoving in the grass, no longer struggling as he did before. The snapper's hide was thick enough to withstand the Ridgeback's attacks. Like his species was known for, he hunkered down into a little ball, protecting his underbelly, and becoming an impenetrable rock anchor to the ground. His hide protected him from the weakened spear like nose of the ridgeback, and he would stay there until help arrived. The sound of horns could be heard from miles and miles away.... the fortress began to stir...
Location: The Curala Wall and the borders
Possible Interactions with: @/Montie - @/Zam - @/Diath - @/CodeRed
The sound of a horn carried far and wide. The sound came from the borders. Five long blares of a horn, cut off halfway during the sixth blare. It was clear that this was a distress beacon. Somebody was in trouble.
The guard that was meant to take Montie's shift came up and before she could say anything, she paused. Every guard's head turned towards the sound, almost in unison. They squinted, listening to the horn. One, two, three..... One, two, thre.... it cut off. The guards all exchanged glances before the female meant to take Montie's place nodded.
"It's a distress beacon boys! There are survivors out there! Grab your weapons and let the next shift take watch. Somebody alert the trainers and the head guard. Hurry!" she shouted over to those on the walls. A coatl zipped off towards the training area while a fae zoomed off to the General's Tent to alert the head guard that they were taking off to rescue a few stragglers that were in trouble. The guards that were finishing their shifts launched into the air, grabbed their weapons, and began to head over to the sound. The dragon besides Montie launched after bumping him with his wing for him to follow.
The Coatl landed in front of Zam and saluted quickly before relaying the message, "The previous shift heard a distress beacon and are going to head over there to assist the survivors in trouble. The next shift is keeping watch while they are away. They wanted to alert you of this, sir."
The coatl, despite having a soft voice, had a determined face on, hoping the cadets would be alright with handling the distress beacon.
Zam looked at them before nodding. "Appreciated." He muttered, it was quiet, like a mutter, but loud enough to be heard. He spread his wings, propelling into the sky and heading to the others. He glided across the wind, his head dipped slightly as a way to avoid breathing in the disgusting fumes of rotting corpses. His gaze swapped from various infected below until he caught the scent of the living- but a brief scent.
He made a small snarl of disgust before darting forward, narrowing his eyes at the decaying ridgeback. He exhaled a small sigh as he flapped his wings, landing on the ground as he planted his talons into the (Grass?).
Zam looked at them before nodding. "Appreciated." He muttered, it was quiet, like a mutter, but loud enough to be heard. He spread his wings, propelling into the sky and heading to the others. He glided across the wind, his head dipped slightly as a way to avoid breathing in the disgusting fumes of rotting corpses. His gaze swapped from various infected below until he caught the scent of the living- but a brief scent.
He made a small snarl of disgust before darting forward, narrowing his eyes at the decaying ridgeback. He exhaled a small sigh as he flapped his wings, landing on the ground as he planted his talons into the (Grass?).
|
|
• Zan/Sri
• He/Him
• Gay lad
|
• Art shop
• Artist ~ Role`player
|
|
[center][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/635388/63538767p.png[/img]
[font=papyrus][size=5][size=5][size=5]SALEM[/size][/size][/size][/font]
[b]Location:[/b]Windswept plateau
[i][b]Infected[/b][/i]
[b]@BONUSDUCKS/Open to RP[/b][/center]
The smell of meat filled his nostrils, decreasing his hunger as he followed the group's actions. The dragon's almost made him forget about the odd imperial and he lunged for the dragon just liked the others. He tried to sink his claws into the flesh of the snapper's tough hide. His claws were dulled and weakened with his body but the hunger fueled his newfound strength as he caught on a large scale of it's back. He made an attempt to rip it off, but it got him nowhere. He roared in annoyance, trying to bite at the dragon. It was even more frustrating due to the fact that the snapper help himself in a position where they couldn't get to his underbelly. He then caught the smell of blood, fresh blood. He continued to bite at the back of the dragon, but turned his gaze toward it's injured leg. Instead it moved to the injury. An already weakened part of hide would make it easier to eat.
His mind grew hazy as he bit down on the dragon's leg. He could taste the blood, the fresh meat, but he felt the wound was still too small to allow him to eat. Instead he just clamped down as hard as he could and treated at the wound as best he could, it would give at some point. Then he could feast. He had forgotten about everything else. The dragon was all he wanted. He wanted to eat. He needed to eat. He had forgotten about everything else but the meat in front of him. He was unaware of the danger he was in, but it was too late for that. He hadn't even thought of the horn that was blown, he hardly even remembered hearing one. It was just his hunger and blood.
SALEM
Location:Windswept plateau
Infected
@BONUSDUCKS/Open to RP
The smell of meat filled his nostrils, decreasing his hunger as he followed the group's actions. The dragon's almost made him forget about the odd imperial and he lunged for the dragon just liked the others. He tried to sink his claws into the flesh of the snapper's tough hide. His claws were dulled and weakened with his body but the hunger fueled his newfound strength as he caught on a large scale of it's back. He made an attempt to rip it off, but it got him nowhere. He roared in annoyance, trying to bite at the dragon. It was even more frustrating due to the fact that the snapper help himself in a position where they couldn't get to his underbelly. He then caught the smell of blood, fresh blood. He continued to bite at the back of the dragon, but turned his gaze toward it's injured leg. Instead it moved to the injury. An already weakened part of hide would make it easier to eat.
His mind grew hazy as he bit down on the dragon's leg. He could taste the blood, the fresh meat, but he felt the wound was still too small to allow him to eat. Instead he just clamped down as hard as he could and treated at the wound as best he could, it would give at some point. Then he could feast. He had forgotten about everything else. The dragon was all he wanted. He wanted to eat. He needed to eat. He had forgotten about everything else but the meat in front of him. He was unaware of the danger he was in, but it was too late for that. He hadn't even thought of the horn that was blown, he hardly even remembered hearing one. It was just his hunger and blood.
