Disillusionist » Lair » Rofthoffer

Rofthoffer

(#26339056)

Level 1 Nocturne

Familiar

Frostbite Hummingbird

Energy: 44/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

3.47 m

Wingspan

5.02 m

Weight

708.17 kg

Genetics

Lead
Iridescent

Platinum
Butterfly

Orca
Underbelly

Hatchday

Aug 21, 2016
(7 years)

Breed

Adult
Nocturne

Eye Type

Ice
Common

Level 1 Nocturne

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

NOT FOR SALE, TRADE, OR LENDING

Rofthoffer
Nickname: Roft
♦ AH purchase / pre-named

The Nocturne who Chased the Dawn

(written by Disillusionist)

"Nocturne" is a word related to "night", but Rofthoffer had always been fascinated by the dawn. Shortly after hatching, his father had gone into the service of the Plaguebringer, flying far to the northeast. The sky had shone red, glinting off his faceted wings, and he had left a lingering afterimage -- an indelible memory -- in the young Rofthoffer's mind.

Thereafter Rofthoffer had grown up in the Cloudscape Crags. His mother still remained with the clan, and she was hard-pressed to care for him -- Rofthoffer was stubborn and independent by nature, forever wandering off into the snow, and no amount of scolding or shouting could persuade him to stay inside the lair. His mother eventually gave up altogether and let him do as he pleased.

He was particularly proud -- maybe too proud -- of his wings. He had inherited them from his mother, and though they weren't as brilliant as his father's wings had been, Rofthoffer took great pride in them. Out in the snow, he could exercise and fly as much as he wished. Cold air sinks and isn't great for long, high flights, but Rofthoffer managed, and soon, among his siblings, he was the strongest flier. He might have been the smallest, but he was also the stubbornest. And he was determined to be the best. He also considered himself the most beautiful, but that's another issue entirely. And it came back to bite him on the snout one day, and nearly cost him his life.

It was an ordinary day. There was no hint that it would turn into something strange, that it would take Rofthoffer into the first fight for his young and very short life.

He was once again exploring the Cloudscape Crags. He had left the inabited peaks far behind him and was playing in the snow, among the shadows of long-dead trees. There was the sound of digging then, the soft crunching that told him a dragon was nearby, churning up the snow. Rofthoffer had seen other Ice dragons do that, but he was curious about who was out here in the middle of nowhere. (It didn't cross his mind that it was even weirder that a hatchling like him would be out here.) He crept towards the sound.

It was an Imperial. Rofthoffer caught his breath, hunkering down instinctively behind a blackened log. A huge white Imperial, a female, with a row of ice-blue stripes down her back. Rofthoffer's eyes were immediately drawn to her wings, however. Huge, brilliantly-colored wings -- but not wrought of cartilage. No...

These wings had been wrought from metal and light.

"How...?" he thought in awe. He had seen artificial wings before. Most of them were ornaments, just for show, and didn't give an added boost to flight. But these wings...No matter how hard he blinked, he couldn't deny it: the wings had fused with the white dragon's flesh. Not glued on, not tied on, but moving together with the small leathery wings beneath. The light pulsed and shifted where the Imperial's muscles rippled, and she flexed the metal parts as easily as she flexed her claws. Churning up the snow. Digging at something beneath it....She extracted a broken penny jar with her teeth, and now Rofthoffer saw her eyes. Yellow eyes. A Light dragon's eyes.

"Intruder!" he thought -- but before he could take action, the white dragon spread her wings. He paused, dumbfounded, as rainbow light shone through.

And then with a crack of thunder, the white Imperial spiraled up into the air.

Roft bounded out of hiding. "Wait!" he yelled -- but the wind snatched away his words. The white dragon flew low, skimming over the snow, and Roft raced after her, his small legs whirring madly.

With another crackling whoosh, the Imperial beat her wings. This time, she angled up into the sky. As Roft had suspected she would, she turned east. It was dawn. The sun was rising. It shone through the white dragon's rainbow wings, and now a memory blazed in Roft's mind....

Dawn. The sky to the northeast glowed a deep, bloody red. A group of Plagueservants was passing through the Cloudscape Crags, and they stopped to chat with Rofthoffer's clan. Roft's father agreed to join them, in exchange for some treasure which would be put towards sustaining his family. The Plagueservants had made it clear that, for this sacrifice, he would be honored even above their older members, exalted into the Plaguebringer's service. But exalted dragons didn't come back again.

The Plaguelings had flown off soon after, Roft's father among their ranks. Roft had watched him go. His mother had seen the distressed look on his face and soothed him, "It is a great honor to serve a dragon deity, even if it is a deity of another element. You should not be sad."

She had been wrong. Rofthoffer had quickly understood the meaning of exaltation, and he hadn't been sad because his father was leaving.

Rather, he had wanted a taste of that honor and glory, too....

And he still did.

Rofthoffer spread his wings.

He launched himself into the air and lifted off into a swirl of snow. Flying off, towards the east, into the growing light of dawn. Across the sea, towards greater glory. As his father had done!

"I'll bring that intruder back. That's our gold. She shouldn't steal. I'll take it back!"

Had he spent more time in the lair, he would've learned that it was normal for dragons of other flights to gather wealth in other territories. Roft's own clanmates gathered in other lands all the time. But he'd always been an inattentive student -- at best.

And now, flying...away from the Cloudscape Crags, across the great blue sea....

At one point, he looked down, and for the first time in many days he felt a stab of fear. Instead of soft white snow, he saw cold waters, crashing waves. The abyss yawned beneath him.

"Eyes on the prize!" He'd heard other dragons say that on the fairgrounds. He forced his head up, looked towards the east. The Imperial's rainbow wings flashed into the light of the rising sun, beckoning him on. She flew slowly, almost clumsily, and Roft managed to keep her in sight.

Over the dark seawater, the lands of Ice receding steadily behind.

Onward over the dark sea, with no land in sight at all.

And then they crossed the lands of Fire, where the air was warm and always gave rest to a soaring dragon's wings. The white Imperial banked lazily, almost twirling in the air, as the warm currents buoyed her into the sky. Roft smiled grimly, and he beat his wings faster. He crossed from current to current, closing the distance between them.

To the east, the sun vanished, hidden behind a bank of storm clouds. They were entering the Stormcatcher's territory. Rofthoffer almost quailed, but the Imperial beat her wings and darted towards the clouds like a rainbow arrow. She soared high, and Rofthoffer knew she would try to go above the storm.

He had never flown that high before. But still he tried.

Over the looming thunderheads, which glittered with scorching lightning....The wind was like invisible fingers plucking at Roft's wings, threatening to drag him down. Worse than any ocean...The clouds were ponderous, but Roft wasn't fooled. Treacherous currents whirled inside them, and they would tear him apart if he fell into their grasp.

He was tired. He couldn't afford to be tired now. He beat his wings until they blurred, and he fixed his eyes on the rainbow shape in the distance. Farther away now...but he could see it; he could still see it!

He rode over the storm. He avoided the worst of the wind, but was often buffeted by rogue currents, thrown up or pushed side to side. His wings burned, and he ached for breath. At some point it rained, droplets of water spiraling up from below, but he didn't notice. There was only pain, the storm he had to avoid...and that gleaming rainbow, shining against the dawn. Shining even above the storm.

The lands of Light opened up beneath him. He didn't notice. The world around him changed, but he didn't see it.

He had reached the dawn, but that rainbow, that elusive rainbow...It was still ahead of him...and curving down to earth. Down to the ground! He could make it! He could make it!

The rainbow curved down to meet the earth, and eventually, so did he.

"Are you alive?"

It was a silly question, but it had to be asked. Roft was aware, dimly, of a voice asking him this question. He trembled with exhaustion, and his eyelids fluttered, but he couldn't manage more than a little moan. Still, it was an answer.

"That's a really stupid question, Ray."

"Huh, if you're so smart, then you talk to him." The gold Skydancer hopped up and down a few times in an agitated little dance. Still, his face was furrowed in concern. "I'll get the clan," he muttered -- and then he was gone, loping off into the east. He spread his wings as he went, and sunlight bounced off them, golden rays skittering across the grass. Roft gasped as memories resurfaced in his mind.

"I've never seen you around here. Are you from another clan?" The second Skydancer hunkered down and nuzzled at him. "Sometimes hatchlings get lost and wander in....It happens. Did you get lost?"

"I'm from...Ice..."

"Huh." The Skydancer blinked. He had pink eyes -- Arcane eyes. "There are lots of Ice dragons here."

"I was following...rainbow...Imperial..."

"Rainbow...Ah, you must mean our Frostlyn!" The Skydancer grinned. "She's very popular with other dragons, yes. And children adore her. I guess she's kind of like a child herself....Hey, Frostlyn, this young lad here says he followed you home."

Frostlyn. Now the rainbow dragon had a name. Rofthoffer blinked as his eyes adjusted.

She was large, as all Imperials were. She followed the golden Skydancer across the grass, her yellow eyes wide with concern. The beautiful wings of rainbow light were folded against her flanks.

"You!" Rofthoffer gasped. "Intruder!" He leveled himself up and lunged forward -- and collapsed, his snout digging into the dirt. He was utterly exhausted, and the world started to grow dark again.

Beside him, the three dragons conferred. "I think he must've been playing a game and then wandered off," said Afterglow, the black Skydancer. "He seems confused....He might've eaten something, a poisonous fungus or somesuch."

"Kids these days'll eat anything," said Radiance. He folded his golden wings and shifted uneasily from side to side.

"Let's take him back to the lair. It's not far. Veritas'll send someone out to ask around, see if he belongs to any of the nearby clans. Frostlyn, can you carry him?"

"Yes, of course." The white dragon bent low. Rofthoffer saw her eyes through a haze of exhaustion -- golden eyes, as light and as warm as the first rays of dawn.

"Come on, sleepyhead," she crooned to him. "Let's get you someplace warm....Glow, his skin is deathly cold. Does he have a fever? Is...Is he OK?"

Roft awoke in darkness. He came awake slowly, peeking out through his eyelids, his nose and ears filtering information from outside. He was in a room, a cave....It was a little bit dark.

He opened his eyes.

The cave was wide, high enough to admit a full-grown Imperial (though Ridgebacks would have to stoop, and it'd be a bit crowded for Snappers). A neat shelf had been carved into the wall nearby. Well-worn hatchling toys had been lined up, but it looked as if they hadn't been played with for some time. There was also a nest next to Roft, but it was empty, the hatchlings having grown up long ago. Roft's own nest had been lined with a rough blue cloth. He poked at it tentatively. It was a blue barbarian's banner -- probably just something spare they'd had lying around and scrounged up for him.

There was a pearly Skydancer on a ledge nearby, apparently asleep. Roft paid her no heed as he bundled himself up in the banner and scuttled out. He didn't notice the Skydancer peer at him with one bright eye.

Outside the cliff, it was sundown. He wasn't sure how many hours had passed....There were dragons nearby, clanmates from the look of it, going about their business. The two Skydancers who'd picked him up, Radiance and Afterglow, were on a high outcrop, their scales gleaming in the setting sun. A sleek blue Tundra sat nearby, cleaning his claws, and a hooded Mirror was fishing at a nearby stream.

Roft heard the click of claws behind him, and he turned around. The pink Skydancer walked up to him and sat down. She adjusted her gossamer silks carefully, almost unconcernedly. Her voice, when she spoke, was very soft and calm: "You flew a long way, didn't you?"

"I'm from Ice. The Cloudscape Crags." Roft could say it clearly now. His stubbornness made him unafraid -- and besides that, he was too tired to think straight.

"The sentries thought you had wandered in from a nearby lair, but we couldn't have guessed you'd come from such a faraway place. You were following our Frostlyn."

"Yes...Yes, I was." Roft puffed himself up. His banner slipped down around his shoulders. "She shouldn't have been there. She was an intruder! You dragons of other elements, you can't just go into other places and..."

Plaguelings coming to his clan....

"...and take stuff...!"

A sum of treasure had exchanged hands. Rofthoffer's father had said goodbye and then turned towards the dawn....Or maybe it'd been a sunset....

A shadow fell over Rofthoffer. He turned around. The Tundra and Mirror had approached and were blinking in conclusion. The Mirror still held a wriggling fish, and she smacked it absently against the ground.

The Tundra dragon cleared his throat. He said, rather lamely, "You must be new here."

He learned the names of the three new dragons. Vanessa, the pearl-colored Skydancer, was the matron. The fishing Mirror was Malkiriam, and the blue Tundra, Hiveriel. He met the other members of the clan, though he found that their names and faces blurred together after a while. The two Guardian progenitors. Their three pretty children. The Ridgeback pair who squabbled happily with the proud, handsome Pearlcatcher who denned next to them....Many dragons, all of them grown, who welcomed him and urged him to make himself comfortable. A black Ridgeback had playfully tried to scare Roft, lunging out at him from the shadows. Roft had squeaked and scuttled away, back to the safety of Vanessa's side. And Frostlyn...Of course Frostlyn was there.

The lair-mother, Veritas, made some effort to find Roft's clan. They were quickly located, but by then the clan had decided that Rofthoffer was more trouble than he was worth and he could stay where he was. He was nearly grown by then, just about due to leave the nest. It no longer mattered to them where he went.

He stayed with Frostlyn's clan, because his long flight had exhausted him and he needed some time to recover. He learned about the rules of gathering and took them to heart; he would not make the same mistake again....

"Mistakes are strange," he thought one day. "They can be dangerous, but sometimes they can lead to great things...."

He was now half-grown. His beautiful wings had faded somewhat, bleached by sunlight -- and, it had to be said, neglect. Most of the time, they were covered by the blue banner, the same one they'd given him back when he'd first arrived. They had cleaned and patched it up specially for him. It was a bit threadbare, and the younger Rofthoffer would have turned his nose up at it -- but then, Rofthoffer wasn't a child anymore.

He did not think about preening himself so much now. He was at that age where he was supposed to start earning his keep, and he made it a point to be the best forager, the best insect-catcher....That part of him, at least, hadn't changed.

He had been partnered with Frostlyn. They were together quite often now. Her cheerfulness, her easy laugh, had made it easy for him to forgive her. He had learned the story of how she'd gotten her fantastic wings. He had been a bit disappointed to learn they'd been manufactured for female Imperials only.

"It has to do with our size, I think," she said. She flexed her claws, uprooted tender shoots of grass. "The Lightning dragons didn't create any for male Imperials, either. But in the future, they might...."

"You got them from the land of Lightning, you say?"

"Oh, yes." Frostlyn had learned to fly there, guided by the Lightning dragons, testing her new and magnificent wings. She had conquered headwinds, sailed into storms. Rofthoffer listened to her, remembering the storm he'd flown over as a child, and his heart quaked within him.

"That sounds really scary. You're a better flier than I thought."

Frostlyn laughed. As Rofthoffer had noticed, she laughed very easily. "I'm still a bit clumsy. I guess it's because the wings aren't natural and don't have any nerves. If some of the parts are ripped off, I won't be able to feel them."

"That could be dangerous." Thunder rumbled in the distance. Rofthoffer turned, saw storm clouds building. Storms often spilled over into the land of Light....He didn't like it when that happened.

He and Frostlyn started back to the lair. The storm overtook them, and they took shelter underneath a rock overhang. A very light drizzle began to fall.

Rofthoffer peered out. "It doesn't look so bad. We could run home," he said -- but before he could take a step, there was a tremendous crack of thunder. He squeaked and backpedaled, bumping into Frostlyn.

She unfurled a single rainbow wing. "There, there...No need to be afraid," she chided gently. A veil of rainbow light encircled Roft, and he paused, briefly mesmerized.

"This kind of storm passes quickly. It would be dangerous to run outside with all that lightning, though....Here, just stay with me, all right? Just stay here."

Rofthoffer looked out at the storm. Then he looked up at Frostlyn's face. Her warm golden eyes shone in the gloom as she watched the rain fall. Undaunted, unafraid...A rainbow arching over the storm.

His days of exploring far from home, of leaving the lair for days on end, were over. He wasn't really disappointed by that, though. Not one bit disappointed at all.

"Yes," Rofthoffer sighed at last. He relaxed and pressed close to Frostlyn's side. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying with you."

Wystaria wrote on 2018-01-06:

Roft has seen some things, man! Probably way more than he ever wanted to. Poor guy. (Does that just mean he gets even more snuggles to make up for it!?)

* dividers were made by me

Thanks for reading!
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