Roleplay

[center][b]- - - This thread is maintained with the interest of archiving the - - - - - - events within my lair, with exchanges, family - - - - - - trees, breeding patterns, and outside rp summary. - - - - - - If you would like you rp with me, feel free here - - - - - - or within PMs, thank you! - - -[/b][/center] ------ [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=922]Clan Members[/url] Currently playing as; Skrum Weliana Pristella Tain Jared - Dragon bios are currently on each dragon's page until migration here [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3473] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/35/3473_350.png[/img] [/url] [b]Skrum[/b] -Lieutenant -Broodfather -Casual and charismatic, the wellness of the clan comes first -ENFP }{ [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3474] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/35/3474_350.png[/img] [/url] [b]Weliana[/b] -Lieutenant -Broodmother -Serious and composed, authority with decision rather than passion -ISTJ }{ [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1585] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/16/1585_350.png[/img] [/url] [b]Pristella[/b] -Honorary Clansmate -Tactician -Disciplined, believes she must come first to better the world around her -ENTP }{ [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=485107] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/4852/485107_350.png[/img] [/url] [b]Tain[/b] -Ambassador, liaison from light clan -No formal occupation (Political Hostage) -Lazy and entitled, but not pretentious; drowsy -ISFP }{ [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=8592] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/86/8592_350.png[/img] [/url] [b]Jared[/b] -Nestwife -Custodian -Appreciates simplicity, responsible -ESFJ - The status of the lair is currently unimpressive, a hobble hole on the outskirts of the Ashlands near enough by the coast closet to the border to be free of industrial polution to the point of being hazardous to living. After a breeding season the walls are near to bursting, but otherwise there is luxury room enough to accommodate furnishings or decorations for the dragons. As of yet they have not adorned the halls any, still bare stone, winding chasm with an open maw to the soot-covered surface. Currently there are three primary chambers, not including the winding passage of the dim earth; the quarters, the stocks, and Taernyll's lair. The quarters are where all of the clansmates live, cook, and breed. It contains; in a smaller cut of the stone, the nesting nursery; several perches occupied or otherwise vacant; a passage directly to the surface covered by a stone door that can only be opened from within. Outside of the actual cavern system, the quarters does include the hot springs and volcanic baths that the dragons clean themselves in. Though exposed to the occasional soot falls, it requires constant maintenance and welling to keep clean and usable. The stocks are a deeper channel within the caverns which are as themselves a winding turn. Within a large hollow all of the clan's treasure and riches are left, close enough for echos of gold clanking to be heard from Taernyll's lair in the deepest dark of the caverns. In a dim and more narrow passage that has been hazardously chipped and mined away, leads to the clan's foundry. A terrible, imposing cleft of earth that is safely caught under a ledge of stone and steels tempered to weather the runoff of volcanic streams into a ravine which runs beside the lair. Here, a mighty workplace was fashioned for the clan's craft needs. The cavern is as so massive it dwarves even the broodfather, yet the hostility of the air and heat are too harsh to stay within lest the occupants are well prepared and at work. Minimalist, unadorned steel and lead pillars keep the roof high as obsidian cakes and crusts across the metal to protect it from the next tide. Taernyll's lair is at the end of the winding chasm, and with two mighty slab doors which give an uncanny pause to any who approach to hesitate before disturbing the stone. What is within is a mystery to all but a select few, even within the clan's ranks. It is here that the enigmatic and mighty dragon Taernyll resides, hidden away from any unwanted eyes, at work and undisturbed. Unless the summons have been made for his Lieutennants, Skrum and Weliana, the doors remained barred, and entrance impossible. - - - A couple requests, less than rules; When posting I care more for substance than "literacy." If you're capable of describing things in more than a sentence and dialogue , I appreciate it. On the flip side I also don't enjoy reading long tandems of trivial information for every post. Exercise verbosity when something would compel that much attention. As well, if you cannot maintain a level of frequency within the thread, please rp through PMs ! That way new folks will not feel they are intruding on what is a dead conversation. Do not feel intimidated by any amount of linguistic savvy I appear to have. Regardless of how well, or not-so-well I handle words I do not require that people format their posts or thoughts in the same way I do. This is my way of saying "don't worry about impressing me, and write in whatever ways you feel comfortable." I garuntee that if I have complaints to make about how you write, or something you're doing, you'll be the very first to know. Thank you ! :)

Account of Taernyll, the 6th of September;
It has been brought to my attention that the current events of my brood have begun to escalate beyond what I can keep track of if I continue to rely on just my memory. In order to have reliable recollection of my time spent on this world, I will transcribe the events and affairs of my clan for now. I intend to acquire someone elses' claws to do so in my stead, but for now this is pressing enough to have me write myself.

It has been several months now, since I arrived on this world, which I still have not clue what it's namesake is. The culture of this planet seems to be primitive in some fields, yet exceptionally developed in others. Upon my arrival I realized that dragons make up much of the world's population, and much to my displeasure this forced my incredible discretion as I stick blaringly forth in provocative presence despite my wishes and attempts to become incognito.

It appears the world is going through a boom in population and trade, to a rate I'm witnessing firsthand in my own domain as surprising. I stole away into the ashlands as they're known and as luck would have it there were two eggs lingering in the hole I held up in to escape prying eyes. It appears the eggs of the kin of this world need to be tended to to hatch, and to my knowledge now they can apparently go some time without incubation or the comfort of a nest before spoiling.

Once hatched, I kept them under my custody; a young orange "guardian" and a steely "fae". I gave them their names after their most incredibly hasty growth. Skrum was he, and Weliana was she. If they are blood or not I cannot tell, but they have proven to be quite capable of bearing young. Through these two as my agents in this world, I will sink my talons deep enough into the ground to anchor an actual conquest and dominion. As of now, my flight is to 12 as I count last.

As of now, my memory is stretched to the point of blurring some points or events, so as to retain what I can, I will list the following succinctly and recount them better once I seek the counsel my whelps;

Arrival > Unwanted spotlight > Isolation >
Hid in ashlands > Found two eggs > Raised Skrum and Weliana
Gathered riches > Purchased custody of Pristella > Coliseum squad formed
? Skrum and Weliana breed > Yield Krun and Kral > Kral bartered away
Skrum and Pristella breed > Ally fire clan Orion > Acquire custody of Jared
Exchange Krun > Jared breeds Krun abroad > Returns with Daiq and Shor
Skrum and Pristella sire dragons, all dispatched > Ally Orion sends Jari to breed Weliana
Weliana bears Kettera > Shor breeds Pristella > Skrum breeds Kettera
Custody of Pespi obtained > Jared and Pespi breed > Ordinance to exalt set in motion
Purchase Rade > Rade and Daiq breed > Custody of Tain... acquired by Light can
Custody of Argita acquired > Met Argita > Kettera flees lair
Skydanger scroll acquired and cast on Weliana >
Ilksha and Emon acquired from benefactor light clan, Shor as sire

This should recount any of the important patterns in my brood's breeding, as tomorrow new drakelings will litter my lair. From this point it will be much easier to keep track of current events to much more proper detail. I would make Weliana scribe this for my sake, considering what debt she owes me now. However I admit I find her confidences entertainment enough. Skrum is wrought with jealousy now that she has taken her new form, which is no doubt tickling her raw elated. Taking to bed the fisher, not only that but to bear his spawn for her first season as she is now. I delight in her game, though I worry that her behavior will compromise her authority's value. I will need to invite someone else to mediate and observe their behavior to strip the bias between the two of them to make sure they keep this game from compromising the growth of the clan.

In fact, Skrum had become irate with my "behavior of late" as he put it, and challenged me. I cannot say for certain if this is entirely because of me, or to his tension with Weliana's newfound smug demeanor. It didn't take much to pacify his outburst. I am proud, if pride is the right sentiment, to witness his growth in strength from the Coliseum. He is strong enough to lead the clan in my stead, until it is time to reveal myself. Still, a hardy chastising was needed. If not for his worthy strength, he would not have gotten off with his life. I fear I am becoming bonded with these two and their quirks. I do not look forward to the day they die, and I haven't known them for a full season yet.

That is all I believe important for this log. Tomorrow there will be a report waiting for me for the new blood and active claws on the stone floors of the lair. Before I retire, I will tidy some cover notes.

-

Account of Taernyll, 8th of September
Yesterday, I received two new additions to my lair, a spiral named Tsec, and a young pearl boy. Sending Weliana to the markets to better equip my lair's numbers. Furnishings, armaments, tools, investments, and the duo. I sent her with the motif to find me a young dragon whose eyes spoke tales, under reasonable budget. It was my intention to have the other be as my archivist to more quickly pass this droll act of scrawling my account on this tiny parchment, but from Weliana's account she is a very lively and outspoken type. I will need discretion for my scribe, and someone I can steal away to keep with me here, in my keep.

I admit, I did not have great hopes upon seeing the whelp when it was dropped before me. Yet afraid he did not whimper or shy from my sight. It's been far too long since I played a hand in upraising my own, and considering my incontinence with this world's abberations of "Dragons", I suppose adopting this fledgling will be my best bet for security and reward.

We spoke, or rather I spoke long into the night with him. It tickles somewhere under my scales to be able to spin yarns without the scrutiny of a foolish whelp "adult" as they see themselves employing unending skepticism, or worser yet, terrible paranoia to my presence. The last thing I need on my palate is unwanted attention from any who might seek me out for prior "crimes" abroad. He was enamored, behind his expression. Fresh into the world, and I am the first creature he is blessed to bond with, in this dim hovel I've carved. I see in him tremendous promise, and loyalty. To which I believe he will delight in rewriting this, and no doubt smirk upon seeing the honored name I had given him in scrawlings;

Scythe.

His merits already make him a more reliable ally than I could ask for from either of my lieutenants. For them, I have taken him as my shadow, and vassal. His word will ring as much authority as my own, should he remain loyal to his lord. In return for his service, he will be riding on the shoulder of a giant, insurmountable force and determination, to quell this new found excitement on such a colorful horizon.

Today has been an uneventful day, to my knowledge Tsec is warming up to the clan. Shor's young have finally reached adolescence. Ilksha, and Emon. Skrum and Daiq are at work attempting to outfit him with more prestigeous adornments for battle and show. He is attempting to take leaps on his own to mastering his craft. Otherwise my hoard's expenses have not yet been sated, and hardly any profit yielded. Perhaps it is simply one of those days.

I am stressed to find purpose to this new addition, her merits have not yet been exposed to me. Perhaps I will learn more with Weliana and Skrum's report later to find a hasty purpose for her occupying my domain.

I am leaving far too many thoughts on parchment, however. I will be keeping future logs more succinct.

-

Account of Taernyll, 10th of September
The intended effects of the task compulsion project have been, to my knowledge, successful. I haven't got a name for the ordeal, but perhaps in time it will create a name for itself. Sending a band of the dragons out to hunt and bringing back the biggest harvest to yield some ceremonious gratification. For a trail run, according to Skrum's recounts, the event went off well enough. There are issues regarding moral and compulsion within my halls I will not tolerate. I will not have my clan's foundations made on despots and outcasts who cannot obey, however, I do wish to yield those here to break the earth with me a greatest sense of privilege as my influence stretches.

Skrum took Pespi, Shor, Tsec, Ilksha, and Emon into the ashlands for a hunt. I can only imagine how little Weliana exagerated when she explained how much he flexed his might as a Coliseum champion. Some were astonished, others were less than so. I should compel both to become more engaged in these individuals, as per their duties, and share some of the task loads of politics, or something along those lines, but I believe both Skrum and Weliana enjoy their busy approaches. If only the rest of my flight felt the same.

That reminds me, today the arrangement Argita struck with me was called. Weliana's brood hatched, yielding a Skydancer female and two guardian sons. I was, I admit, a bit morbidly wishing for a situation like this to happen. He wished to impose on my lair's structure, with a bargain so great, for nothing more than his service, the least I could wish for is a little familial tension. Knowing he's squirming to dispatch whichever of his sons he chooses to send off is all the recompense I need.

Scythe is growing very steadily, he occupies much of my time of late. He has become far more chatty than he was to begin with, though there's only so much I can speak for with a whelp who has yet to experience anything of the world. I find my time spent recounting great tales with him, whether my own experiences or that of fiction, which may as well be my own, to him. It is a very rewarding sight, those maroon eyes striking wide and catching so much of the light as I discuss the boogeymen and terrors I've come to face. At first I was worried that those things, morality and such would need to be addressed. He seems to have an innate moral compass of what is to be shocked at and what is not. Something I would not have thought possible if I wasn't here raising a fresh blooded pup, who could not have lessons from anyone else. I feel that his company is more humbling and rewarding than I would have first guessed.

It is important he is exposed to these sentiments of appreciation and companionship while he develops. I would be loathe to have him have a conflict of conscience as he recounts my emotions, or some matter of embarrassment. Of anything in this world yet, this young pearlcatcher has been much more rewarding than the sum of treasure which occupied space in his stead.

Account of Taernyll, 23rd of September
It has been some time since the previous entry, so statements of clan affairs should come first.
-Argita supplied the "conscription fee" for his son's exalt. Aware that he sent Thysetses, the presumed name, to a neighbor shadow clan across the sea.
-Tonic, a lavander female Pearlcatcher, and Hops, a platinum-gold Tundra Male have been acquired.
- Shor and Pristella's clutch of 3, 2 white/white offspring were given to the ally shadow clan to supply obligation.
-This breeding season; Argita/Ilksha ; Skrum/Tsec ; Shor/Pristella ; Rade/Daiq ; Pespi/Jared. No breeding partners for the following; Arteus, Emon. It is up in the air whether I, or Tain will be breeding with Weliana this season.

Ah, with that it seems as good a time as any to sign that I have begun to keep my lord's affairs for him. He has taught me how to write as he does. He wishes me to be as elaborate as I can be, and to use this as a commentary for my own affairs to digest in one newsletter. It seems as redundant to say, as he has heard my appreciation to the point of his ears falling off, that I have so far enjoyed my stay here. I admit I was assured I would end up in a hovel of forgotten treasures and vagrant dragons living impoverished and uninspired. The things I have seen because of-- him -- are incredible. I know only these walls but outside it is as such a dreary and dramatic place. He insists I linger with the others more, in as much as observing them. I obey his command, yet I cannot find reason to it. They are so much less than he is, but he assures me that there is something to be learned.

The stories, the affections... He sees not Weliana or Skrum as he does me. They know him only as the lord to which they bow, but when he looks at me I feel adoration. Love. My lord, as much as you wish me too, it is embarrassing to speak, or write of you as if I were speaking to another. Tomorrow we intend to drink Shor's nectar, he tells me that it will be an experience like no other. I have so much left to learn, thank you for this privilege, Taernyll.

- Also reserved because reasons. -
I might just use this selection to dump pictures, or be open for commissions in the future. For now, have a pretty picture of Weliana's mug.


- Yes, I draw art ! -

With her satchel riding rather rough against her hip, she feels it is as adequate a time as ever to brush apart the residual musty soot upon her favored smooth stone. Sitting atop the peak of the lair's entrance was a single unbelievably smooth stone that she would love to perch on and watch the stars peek through the smog and overcast skies in the Ashlands. At times she would even spot her daughter, Kettera, solitary and staring up at the same sky she was, yet never dared to confront the problematic and volatile youth. She was always so afraid that the uncanny relativity between them would break her down as it did the silver Fae.

But that was then, and neither is Kettera here nor is she the Fae that she used to be. Though the rock was too small for her to perch her much-larger haunches over comfortably, she did dirty her fetlock wrists to further cast and brush ash away to lay herself down before the stone and clutch it against her collarbone. Taking a moment to just enjoy the cold, inflexible firmness of the rock before so much as thinking of bothering with her effects. Thankfully, rock too comfy, and persuades her to keep idle and eyes to the sky and tail fidgeting. Sometimes the greatest things in life are to stop being busy for a little while and just soak in the moment, while ash falls upon your hide and feathers, she thinks. If the thought was a thought at all, and not simply an intuitive feeling that she knew she was having.

-- Online --

Perched atop the small smooth stone over the archway down into the lair, Weliana's haunches wobbled back and forth in a stubborn perseverance to remain upon her podium. Though so composed and debonair in shared company, she had episodes of being quite the ditz. Her frustrations with her new body having difficulty sinking in as she glorified her newly found beauty and stature upon receiving the boon. Alas, for her harmless sadism to torment Skrum for an old wound, she is caught in a tide of unfortunate bad karma. Especially within her self-inflicted inability to accept defeat.

Still though, as silly as a skydancer posed atop a stone no larger than one of her eggs, she did at least retain a certain expression of seriousness. The potential humiliation she would have to suffer if she was found passing far above her oblivious irate focus.

As the sun had set, and the indiscriminate black set across the horizons of the Ashlands, Weliana was robbed of any capability for scrawlings in even the candle light. Lifting head up from her grimoire, she recognized that the final hours of the day had wound down past her notice.

It was a deep inhale to synchronize her perspective and the now, rather than the exhale that came after which she made deliberate. The day had come and gone but it was hardly worth lamenting. Even the most seemingly unproductive days show to have value at first unseen. She crawls to her feet, stepping up over soot to the nearer-edge of the cliff face to look down over the landscape to see what liveliness was still looming to the world bellow, or if all her clan had withdrawn into the quarters. Broken patches of light and blazes, fire and lava dotting the broken landscape at the early hours of the night was always such a hypnotizing sight. Certainly no where else would be as home to the dragon.

--Online--

Dim morning light caught through the overcast of ashen clouds, through their varied density shifts of brightness blotted the landscape. Once more, perched atop the high end of the lair, Weliana was especially attentive to the happenings around, rather than her commonplace late-day recounting and unwinding. She was alert, to be the unseen eyes to follow today's darling escapade.

Unable to stifle her pleasure at today's schemes, she cocked a wide smirk while her eyes rolled across the wide horizon, occasionally darting back to the hovel's gaping ravine beneath her. It was after soem time had passed that the silhouettes caught light, and Skrum's bright as sunlight hide caught what dim light it could and gave back brighter. Following behind the hasty trot of the large drake followed 4 other guardians, and the winding bright streak of the spiral. Today Skrum would be in charge of leading the unoccupied and the dis-impassioned on a great hunt, the idea belonging to their lord, to better inspire those without goals. Or something.

Skrum saw it so much differently. This was his opportunity to rally the clan into discipline and authority for his militant agenda. He was not beaming only with color, today, but the starch flavor of excitement to finally exercise his authority. A stench even Weliana caught wind of several dozens of meters above.

-- Online --

Weliana lays herself down over the soot covered stones of her normal resting place, enjoying taking the moment to sigh and relieve her wings from the stress of flight. Something else, as well tugged at her attention. Though she was not much for maternal concerns, the complications with changing one's identity so suddenly as with a scroll's blessing had her caught upon the unfamiliarity of her own genes being shared in a whelp Skydancer. Electing that her thoughts best be put down into writing, yet refusing to sully her grimoire with something as personal or foolish as this, she ripped a page from the back of the metal-covered book and placed it across the smooth back end cover, scrawling down with half lid eyes some hastily and poorly written thoughts, which she read back to herself several times.

After quite the extensive personal exposition, and three extra torn out pages littered with doodles and graphs and barely legible words, Weliana lets free a deep breath she felt she had held in since the beginning of her introspection. A small rise of embers from the nearly unseen smog she loosed from her jaws dancing out of sight before her eyes opened up. Thankful to be done with that adventure through emotional lane, she held over the parchment with a paw, pinning it to the steel face of her grimoire. Deliberating on burning her pages, or to keep them for future references, an undecided internal struggle weighed pros and cons and theoretical situations.

Though she was so far ill-prepared for the sudden drop of weight and displacing wind that ran up her back and with the hairs over her back felt a rising shock shoot up her spine.

"Well now this is a neat little spot, yknow. I'd never, ever, ever assume that there was sommun hidin' up here from above. You camoflawed perfect to the dark rock," mumbled Tain, with a volume that was well received, but a slurring tone and lazy enunciation. He stood up over top of Weliana from the side, but his head turning to look over the cliff top that the lair sunk into bellow. "Ah good view, all alonesome, and all hidden where nobody I wouldn't expect it. You're pretty smart, Wails."

Her shoulders dropped in a moment, just as she believed she'd purchased a sense of comfort and clarity, he shows up. Of all the problems to fall out of the sky, it had to be the most obnoxious and stubborn set of legs with the gift of gab slapped on top.

"I like my privacy," she spoke, a growl exercising the break from her repressed silence to churn through her voice, but stop all the same when she finished. She refused to look back, she wouldn't address him. Perhaps that way he will leave her be. Though she has great hope, she knows that Tain is not so easily dismissed.

Or ignored.

"You know, I do too," the imperial would stammer, wandering in a circle closer to Weliana's side. "Privacy is one o' the most important than the to ... Thuhh. Hum." Pinching his eyelids shut, Tain wonders hard on the train of thought that he had not only utterly derailed in no time at all, but caught fire and was sent barreling off a cliff.

Under the incessant humming of the lout whose voice could not be stemmed by pinching her brow together, Weliana snapped, "Yes, well, that's all very well and good but is there something that you need Tain? Is there a reason you're bothering me?" Brought to her feet with an authoritative stance, she stood defensively over her affects to keep them from the Imperial's line of sight. Tail brushing over the cover slip of parchment, loosing them all as they dared to animate at the wind's touch. Too occupied with the blue clown's tomfoolery to notice that the papers caught a ridiculously unfortunate gust and went flying off into the wind.

Turning her head to see the tan sheets billowing away, she had returned to lecturing Tain before the realization sunk in that her accounts were just loosed upon the wind. A shriek of panic as she kicked up off of the cliff face in a sudden bout of frightful desperation, leaving the intoxicated dragon blowing a sheen of soot powder from his snout.

"Hey, hey o'eyy that's nice," he would yammer, swiping claws up across his brow and snout. When at last he caught his vision back from the dust cloud, his eyes fell upon her grimoire, left laying face down on the rough ashy stone. "What's this den? A book?"