Archived Lore
Here lies the Lore that belonged to dragons who didn't find a home. You can request it to be added to any purchases if you'd like!
Mairead's Lore
"Mairead! Not the box again!" her angry mother exclaimed. "I'm sending it to customers tomorrow, and if you take the gifts out and hide in it, you're going to accidentally be shipped across Sornieth!" Mairead cocked her head as she looked at her mother. She didn't see the problem. There were always boxes in her mother's lounge, so surely it didn't hurt to sit in them? They were nice and dark and cozy and smelled good. Nonetheless, she obediently excited her shelter, and went to decorate Christmas cookies with her siblings. But that night, Mairead couldn't sleep in her den. She tossed and turned, but was totally unable to fall asleep. One thing circled her mind: The box. She needed to go to it. A few days later, a couple opened their Christmas gift from "Ulixses' Mail Services" only to find that the box that was supposed to house their new music box now contained a little hatchling... there was a "No return" policy with the company, but the couple traveled themselves with the hatchling all the way back to the Windswept Plateau to return Mairead to her family. But years later, Mairead would make her way back to them, their perfect Christmas present.
Mairead is a curious soul, with a passion for boxes of any shape and sort. While her fellow Dusthides are digging or playing, she's making stories while she snuggles into the box. She's quiet, and lets other people have their way, but it's more because she sees no need to force her opinions on other people. She is strong, and will continue to do what she wants even if she doesn't openly rebel. Her passion is building things, and ends up making small buildings in her free time.
Cordellia's Lore
Cordellia is a cheerful soul, and is extremely conscientious. She cares about how she presents herself to others, but she is also indecisive to a fault. Something her friends learn quickly is never to come to her asking advice-especially on clothes. Cordellia loves to sing, and wants to make a name for herself through Sornieth.
There is one time of year that Cordellia's voice goes raw, and it is the holiday season. For she can never resist Christmas caroling every night. She never knows if she's done enough, or if she should continue to spread the holiday cheer throughout her clan and beyond. Her voice pays the price. By the end of the year, Cordellia may sound like rumbling rocks, but her face shines with more joy than at any other time of year. And she always seems to get lemon-ginger tea for Christmas, with absolutely no explanation.
Dylan's Lore
Dylan has high standards, both for himself and for others. Some see him as strict and unrelenting, but his philosophy is that how you appear dictates how you live your life. Though he's demanding in a way, he is also very kind underneath his formality. He doesn't know what he wants to do, but he thinks he'd be good in a leadership position.
"Christmas again," the Skydancer said, his antennae drooping. "Come on, lighten up a little. I know you love this time of year!" said the little Fae riding on his back. "I know. But they lack so much decorum when it comes." They paused to watch the dragons frolicking in the streets. The Fae fluttered off Dylan's back. "You don't have any more time to mope!" he said, "Or even to worry about 'decorum' or 'appearances'. It's time for the dinner party!" His antennae perked, and Dylan smiled. "Yes. Yes, it is time. We can't keep them waiting. Oh how I love a good holiday pudding." Then they were off.
Celebration's Lore
A piercing voice rang through the air, causing dragons to shiver and cringe, as an exceptionally tangled Spiral sang. “It’s time to have a party, because we’re…party-hearty! Sing until you’ve got no wings! I hope I’m pulling on your heartstrings!” Everywhere, dragons began to make excuses, for whatever reason. They’d come to the party, sure, but they had to… wash their ears out first. “That Celebration,” one invitee said to another. “His parties
are always the greatest, but his singing… is horrendous.” “I’ve heard he melted someone’s ears off!” she said back. “No way,” the first said. “You probably heard that
at a party from some dragon who had a little too much to drink.”
What most dragons don’t know is that Celebration’s ears are sharper than they seem, and they hear what many have said about his hearing. All he does is smile and sings a little louder. He’s not concerned about what they think, and one day, he’ll stun them all when he shows them he’s been taking private voice lessons. It’ll be the perfect party trick! Now, however, wasn’t the time for that. Now was the time to prepare! And, just like that, Celebration was off. He had a party to create, after all, and the snacks wouldn’t buy themselves!
*As a side note, when I wrote the lore for Celebration, I was thinking that ‘Celebration’ wasn’t his birth name, but couldn’t find a spot to put that in! If it inspires you, feel free to use it!*
Valorant's Lore
Valorant hid underneath the windowsill, giggling as he heard his parents inside. “Valorant took the spoons again! I can’t find them anywhere!” his mother was yelling. “Valorant! VALORANT!!!” But Valorant didn’t come. Of course they couldn’t see the shiny silver spoon he held between his paws, for if they did, they might suspect his new hiding place for his shinies–the tree hollow outside. Eventually, he heard them calm down. “That kid,” his dad said. “He’s got a problem. We can’t have anything shiny around here or it goes missing!” “Maybe,” his mother said. “We should just get plastic spoons.” “I think we should ground the little rascal!” his dad said, but sighed. “Well. At least I know what to get him for Christmas this year.” Valorant laughed, then hushed as his parents heard him. “He’s outside!” “Get in here you little rascal!” Valorant flew. But he wasn’t thinking too hard, because he went straight to his tree… and saw his parents following.
“No more spoons for you,” his father told him. “And, you’re grounded for the week. No sweets until then.” Valorant’s little head sank, but he took the punishment well. After all, they hadn’t found his favorite shiny–the bathroom mirror.
Years later, in a large lair, a little spiral slept contentedly on a pile of shinies–spoons, coins, jewelry, and more. He heard a knock on the door, and yawning, he arose and answered it. “Valorant!” the dragon outside said. “We need your help! There’s another monster down by the bay and we need you to scare it away for good!” “What are you paying?” Valorant asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Scare it away, and you can have any choice of shiny object in the village.” Valorant smiled. “Perfect. I’ll take your bathroom mirror.”
Ponderosa's Lore
Her hardhat slipped and fell over her eyes, and Ponderosa quickly pushed it up before anyone noticed. “Yes, yes, I agree.” She told the architect, as she scribbled some notes. “But didn’t the client ask for something… grand, extravagant, and glorious? Marble pillars seem to fit that description best.” The architect grimaced. “Ponderosa, I’ve talked over the plan with the client thousands of times. I
know what they want, and it’s
not marble pillars.” “It’s more stylistic,” Ponderosa murmured, but with a strict look from the architect, she sighed and signaled for the construction workers to remove the tall, solid marble pillars. “Well, how about the mural?” “WHAT mural? Don’t tell me you’ve put up a mural?!” “Of course I did,” Ponderosa said. “Don’t worry, it looks great!” The architect groaned.
Soon, they stood in the main hall of the building, with a large wall spread out before them. In swirls of bright color lay an exquisite painting of birds in flight, flying into a sunset. At the bottom, a small signature lay. “Ponderose… you painted this?” Ponderosa smiled. “I am a dragon of many talents,” she said happily. “And I have a bucket of paint remover if the clients don’t like it.”
Arborvitae's Lore
It was late in the winter season and the skies were grey and cloudy when Arborvitae lost herself.
It had been a day like any other: “Arborvitae, let’s go explore!” Her friends had told her. Just like they always did. And at the beginning, it was normal.
They strolled through the forests near her home, chatting and enjoying each other’s company, and near midday they stopped for a picnic. Arborvitae wasn’t a loud dragon, so she listened while the others talked, and laughed along with them. Then, the clouds rolled in. “Hopefully it won’t snow,” Arborvitae thought, and her hopes were fulfilled. It didn’t snow. It was worse. While wandering, the group had trespassed on ancient magic. Things began to happen. One of her friends disappeared, another fell down a hole that didn’t exist before, another was snatched away by a giant bird. Soon, the only one left was Arborvitae, devastated and confused. How did this happen? Wasn’t this supposed to be a lighthearted get together? What could they have possibly done to anger the… thing that was causing this?
But she didn’t have much time to think about this, because suddenly, she felt her mind slip and go, and she lost herself.
Luxor's Lore
Luxor sat at his desk, puzzling over the blueprints that lay on the table. “Hmm,” he thought. “If we place the entrance tunnel
here,” (Here he nearly pierced the blueprint with his claw) “Will it obstruct traffic to this point? But if we put it
here” (He jabbed another spot on the design) “Then it isn’t as safe to guard…. Hmmmm… Oh, but stupid of me, if I put it
here” (He pointed back to the original spot) “Then the tunnel complex will collapse, so that
obviously won’t work.” He sat thinking, and eventually his apprentice came into the room. “AH HAH!” Luxor shouted suddenly, “I can put the entrance HERE! Perfectly defendable, safe, and good for traffic!” The parchment ripped. “I’ll get you a new one, sir,” Luxor’s apprentice said. Shortly, he returned, and brought with him a glass of Luxor’s favorite juice: Grape juice. “Please don’t spill it on the blueprint, sir, that’s the last one we have,” his student said. “Oh I won’t,” Luxor said. “Since when have I caused accidents?”
Erebus's Lore
“From birth I was told I would die…” Erebus coughed. “There’s something… wrong. In my family. It started… many, many generations ago. Our family also has heroes, who fight for good… But I figured–”
Cough cough “Why try if I would die young anyways?” A long break followed.
“I became… a prodigal. Spent my life doing whatever I wanted. I was strong enough to take it…” The silence was thick enough to
feel. “Who would have thought that
I would become…”
Cough “A hero… too…” Erebus trailed off as he began wheezing and coughing violently. Then. It stopped. The Prodigal had obtained rest, at long last.
Kali's Lore
The noise was too much for her to bear. She had to run–to escape–the
pounding in her ears. It
wouldn’t stop. “STOP!” she screamed as she ran.
But she couldn’t run, not entirely. She was trapped. In this arena full of dragons, each screaming and shouting and fighting. It had never been
her fault that she had been placed in this living hell.
The coliseum is not for the weak, only the strongest survives. Only the strongest deserves to survive. That was what they said. Would she survive? Probably not. But the thing that she was most worried about was the
noise. Dragons in the throes of death, the cheering of the crowd.
It broke her. She turned, no longer running away, and charged towards the battle. They
must be QUIET!!!!
When came to herself again, it was silent. The only noise was her heart pounding. Kali looked around, watching the shocked faces of the crowd. She had won: It was quiet, finally.
Eretria's Lore
The growl was deep and threatening.
Hunger. It gnawed at Eretria from the inside.
Hunger. It would not stop
Eretria
had to find something to eat. And she did. But it was never enough. All Eretria was was a stomach and teeth.
She roamed, always eating, never stopping, searching,
searching for something that would fill her. The one thing that gave her relief during her starved wanderings was her pendant. She would never take it off. It was beautiful, especially in the purple patterns that flowed across its surface. It was chilling to the touch, but it had captured her heart. She didn’t remember life without the dark pendant. She also couldn’t remember the last time she felt full.
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