Raffles & Giveaways

@EnglishRose I fell in love with this guy and noticed that it's his birthday (well I'm 9 hours ahead and technically it's tomorrow FR time, and past my bedtime, but he's worth it!) but that's what I wrote for him! [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/67097797][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/670978/67097797_350.png[/img][/url] "A Year. It had been a Year. A Millenia. The scrolls that had been wrapped around the nest Furic had been born to were etched into his skin, into his soul. The gold danced on the Plague colours, his entire body announcing the light he carried and where it came from, a place of desolation and rebirth. He carried the wisdom of those who came before him, a repository of a magic few could speak of, fewer still could act on. Yet when he stood, tall, proud, benevolent and somewhat reserved still, others knew. This force of nature drew his strength not from combat or studies, but from this intrinsic spark that had been passed down to him. To a few, he was one who felt like this friend, or foe, met long ago, in another time, another life. To the others, he was one to approach with caution. His help came at a cost, but he never asked for more than could be given. From some, he would take a crystal to peer in, from others something as simple as a branch on which they’d rested their worries. But he would have answers, some which took longer than a lifetime to decipher. Most believed that was the point. For he was this repository, his answers only brought more questions, which only the ones who turned to him could answer in turn, for themselves. He wasn’t a healer. He wasn’t a guide. Not one to follow, but one to turn to when doubt clouded minds that no wind could wipe away. He was not a wind of change, nor a harbinger of chaos as his origins could lead some to believe. Not even a light in the darkness, only one who could lift that veil long enough for others to peer through, and hope. Was there hope for him? As he entered the first day of the second year of this new life, even he didn’t know. Surely, though, it was time to settle." Ps: I'd have a couple of non-cooldown XXX gened siblings born during the Gala who deserve a nice cozy lore, should I be PMing you or somebody else about them? (they're on the last page of the last tab, I'd be feeding them obviously!)

@EnglishRose sorry to bother you, but I saw a dragon whose lore has been written here, but neither it is on hold nor in the CR? Are you just busy with that or did the claim not pass?

Hey folks! So sorry for being MIA there. It's been a bit since we've had activity so I forgot to check the thread when I popped on to feed the freeloaders.
I'm extending claims to 48hrs (rather than the usual 24hrs) for this one instance since it has been a while since some folks made requests.

@Zalva
I loved your story! The imagery was lovely. I'll be sending Rizian your way soon

@PotatoPup
You have been added to the general pinglist

@blackfriday99
Love it! All I need is a pretty name and I'll be sending her to you!

@Starwindrider
You have until February 10th to write your lore!

@Soulthreads
You have until February 10th to write your lore!

@Beezarre
I love the concept you have for Furic! I'll send him to you soon. And feel free to PM me images of the dragons you'd like to donate :)

@Ref
No bother at all! I just haven't checked the thread in a bit which is my bad. If the person doesn't claim the dragon after a few days they'll be available to write for again. I'll make sure to update my listings.

@EnglishRose Gotcha! If so, for now - could I ask for a hold on Noray, please? [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/66397331][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/663974/66397331_350.png[/img][/url]

@Ref

Absolutely!

@EnglishRose [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/66397331][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/663974/66397331_350.png[/img][/url] Noray totally, [i]definitely[/i] needed to cross this forest. His clan left far behind, the ones that fed him not hovering above him - as he always wanted. He would travel far and wide, gild the runic markings that covered his body with more treasure, learn potent magic unseen by his ancestors - and return to the Scarred Wasteland to lead his own clan. The ambitions boiled inside as the challenge presented itself. [i]Be brave - into the tangle you go, Be quiet - inside the darkness we roam.[/i] The Shadow territory used to be tricky, changing. Noray knew this. He knew as well that the poem-carved stone he found at the outskirts of this other clan was an invitation, a call to get there and grab what belonged to him. The clan members thought otherwise. Oh, that stone, they said. It's there for not very good reasons, they said. Maybe they just weren't worthy to claim the prize. But Noray didn't grow in Plague lands to mix bravery with carelessness. He needed information, and he searched for it thoroughly, until one old, already blind Imperial finally wished to talk to him. "Oh young one," she whispered. "Those are letters from the tangle's inhabitants. We do not enter these lands, usually. There are rumors, bad ones, and they all say, the Roaming ones don't want our attention." "But the stone says, be brave," Noray objected. "It says to go. Won't they forbid it if they wanted to keep everyone away?" The Imperial thought for a minute, herold, wavy fur swaying in the wind. "Oh, there is a legend, young one. About the ones who could outsmart the Roaming ones themselves, trick them. Make them share whatever they have. They would accept defeat like this. But oh, even the elder Shadows do not risk for these rewards, and you're young and stubborn..." Noray didn't need further advice. Only information. To enter the forest meant to be one with the forest. It was easier for shady, skulking Nocturnes, but Noray was bright and proud, gilded from ears to toes. That meant, he should become the flaming flower, and look like he's one of the Roaming ones, going into the ball. The flowers on his wings almost burned with liveliness. The mask of wood covered his face, making him more of a spirit than a dragon, and fiery leaves adorned his mane. Noray lit the lanterns, willing them beside himself. It was a simple trick; not a dragon anymore, but a tigerlily spirit. He comes for the dance, and goes with the gold. The night seemed to get darker and thicker as he moved through thorny vines and blackened trees. It seemed to envelop, his lanterns fading a bit, only shrooms and glowing thorns guiding his way. He was told the path will find itself - and so he traversed deeper. Something stalked him. Something tiny, or big, or ever-changing. Every step, Noray was battling himself, trying to not look alarmed. The feeling grew, as he now distinctively caught the shapes, here and there, dark or glowy, colorful or dull, ever-moving, faintly chattering. But he still wasn't ready when he finally [i]perceived[/i]. The forest was almost made of them. Small and elusive, fluttering dragons, whose voices sounded like music, colliding into the words, then spreading again into melodic cacophony. [i]Oh mister, oh mister - look at him go! Oh mister, oh mister - so charming, you know ~[/i] The chant repeated and followed him, as Noray went further, all alarms in his body screaming. The flock surrounded him, chirping and rustling, almost making him lose his mind. "Oh, where are you going, mister?" "You're so graceful, mister!" "May we smell of your flowers, mister?" It was certainly a trick. They totally planned to destroy him. But while they played hospitality, Noray decided to answer the same. "Oh, fluttering ones, isn't there the ball going on?" "Oh, totally, mister! Bring your golden light there, mister!" It was just a test. Noray could take a test. He was always the one to spot an ambush, to predict the attack, to notice the change. But this place was... something other. Malleable, confusing, he only noticed the changes when he was already inside, and not only the Roaming ones, but the spirits and the elemental entities were surrounding him. There was no order, it was the flow of ever-changing dances and clashes, and fitting in was a terrible quest. The small creatures still seemed to conduct the place, to pull the strings of everything around. "Oh you flowing ones, fill our wings with color!" "Oh you tattered ones, bring us a song!" "Oh mister, would you like to try our honey?" He didn't drink it; it just flowed down his mane and onto the runic markings. It felt like fire and magic and greed, and he thought if he could bathe in this and be reborn. "Oh the fluttering ones, I hope this celebration never ends?" "We bow to the evening, we dance through the night, and we gift any guest who stays until the light!" - the ever-changing choir chanted, and Noray felt confidence. He could do it. He could stay until the morning. Oh, he will get his treasure. He's already doing it perfectly. "Ah, our beautiful guests, follow our chord - bow to the ones who lead the Court!" The carouseling dance seemed to halt and shift, and Noray fadened his lanterns, stepping back. He couldn't recognize who was the rulers in the fluttering flock, but he knew instantly, when their gazes slid over him. There it is. They say something, and he's exposed. But no one said anything. He wasn't noticed? Oh. He chuckled. Stupid, little ones. He could destroy them all, and they weren't even trying to attack him. But he will defeat them by their rules. "Oh, the beautiful, the changing, the ever-dancing guests. The Court blesses you, and may you never rest!" Oh sure, he never planned. And as life filled the tangle once more, he let this confidence wash over him, as he stepped inside once more, and lit his lanterns, and followed the pattern, filling himself with power. Oh, he will stay, and he will dance, and in the morning he will be enhanced. Who is he, if not the worthy one. Who is he, if not the winner. Who is he, if not the gilded one. Who is he, if not... Who is he? The sun rays filled the tangle, and he stepped aimlessly onto the grass. It didn't bend, as his leaf-adorned paws touched it. The confidence still filled him, but he couldn't remember the reason. The ball ended, and only the Chattering remained around, as they were always meant to be. The flowers flowed on his wings, leaves growing out of his mane. The wooden face looked up, inhaling the morning air. The memories flowed back slowly. Of course, how could he forget his name. It was The Mister.

@EnglishRose
Could I be added to the general pinglist, please?

@Ref

Ohhh I loved that! I'll be sending him your way!

@AmbientMage

Absolutely! You've been added

boop