[center]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/PAyFjHm.png[/img]
[center]a collection of work-in-progress stories, random musings, and artwork
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There isn’t much to see in Dragonhome if you don’t know where to look, and many of the dwindling members of Crownfire certainly aren’t in the know. Once a strong tapestry of artisans, merchants, and tradesdragons living comfortably in the Ashfall Waste, the remains of the clan are now adrift in an unfamiliar sea of sand, dust, and distrust, carving a new home in rings of stone under a scorching sun that has laid bare all of their flaws.
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[center][size=2]| [b][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_2113037]intro[/url][/b] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484894]crownfire[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484896]library[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484897]abandoned halls[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484899]chantry[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484901]airship[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484903]traveling[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484904]carrion collective[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25762708]X[/url] |[/size][/center]
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[center][size=2]
[i]subpar lore bits combined with draw your lair challenge
this whole deal is a grooooooooooss work in progress but hey, there's art[/i][/size][/center]
a collection of work-in-progress stories, random musings, and artwork
There isn’t much to see in Dragonhome if you don’t know where to look, and many of the dwindling members of Crownfire certainly aren’t in the know. Once a strong tapestry of artisans, merchants, and tradesdragons living comfortably in the Ashfall Waste, the remains of the clan are now adrift in an unfamiliar sea of sand, dust, and distrust, carving a new home in rings of stone under a scorching sun that has laid bare all of their flaws.
subpar lore bits combined with draw your lair challenge
this whole deal is a grooooooooooss work in progress but hey, there's art
[center][size=2]| [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_2113037]intro[/url] | [b][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484894]crownfire[/url][/b] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484896]library[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484897]abandoned halls[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484899]chantry[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484901]airship[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484903]traveling[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484904]carrion collective[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25762708]X[/url] |[/size][/center]
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[columns]
They stood without speaking in the entrance of Crownfire, the silence broken only by the cracking and popping of wood in the distance. The stone under their feet was blackened by soot, covered in a myriad of cracks caused by the heat. Where once the chantry had stood silhouetted against the sky was now emptiness, the building having burnt to its lower levels. Both dragons could remember how it had looked engulfed in flames. Down below, the chantry bell lay in a pile of wood and ash and broken glass. After some time spent simply surveying the damage to the surface, [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=25881443]Anders[/url] stepped forward into their abandoned home, and [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32482241]Quire[/url] followed quickly with scroll and quill, ready to make an account of the damage to bring back to the clan.
[center]. . . . .[/center]
Deeper into the lair, things seemed mostly undisturbed. In some areas, the walls were blackened from smoke, destroying the intricate murals that had once graced them, a loss that [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=25881443]Anders[/url] grieved with a low string of curses. The wooden benches that marked resting places in the halls were covered in soot, candles melted in their sconces. The further down they went, the safer the rooms- this far down, they’d been protected by winding passageways, isolated from the heat through the earth. With careful precision, [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32482241]Quire[/url] marked each area based on damage- certain symbols to convey a place as safe, mildly damaged, moderately damaged, destroyed- for the most part, the repairs would be minimal.
Like the murals, some losses were irreplaceable. They moved into the once-cozy space shared by [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=30460218]Boniface[/url] and [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=30460221]Eilif[/url] with trepidation, the remains of the chantry having given them fair warning as to what could happen to a place so close to the surface. The glass panes that Signe had carefully constructed and set into the ceiling were cracked from heat, and the flames had made their way into the room with apparent ease, setting the walls of fabrics aflame, destroying the fine furniture. Bolts of cloth had fallen to the floor from collapsed shelves, the sides that had been facing walls still clean and colorful, a stark contrast to the flaking ash the flames had left behind, like two sides of a coin. The low tables still held their tools, but all were destroyed beyond use, and the wood of the tables had buckled and flaked in the fire. Not for the first time, they marveled at how something beyond repair could yet maintain its shape. Here, [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32482241]Quire [/url]marked another place destroyed.
[center]. . . . .[/center]
Later, in the great hall, they found something unusual. The entrance to the abandoned halls that sprawled deep below Crownfire was marred with soot. The stone above the doorway was deeply cracked, obscuring the runes that had been carved in to its surface long ago. Many dragons who'd been warded away by the runes and spells now found themselves drawn to old halls which they'd never quite noticed before. But torches nor spelled light lasted much more than a few feet into the chambers before being snuffed, and those in the clan that had any knowledge of spirits knew better than to dwell in the darkness for long. Together, [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32858793]Callahan[/url] and [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32482241]Quire[/url] applied new wards to the broken entryway, an attempt to hold back whatever lay below the surface.
They assessed the damage and held many meetings, allowing the clan to voice their fears. In the end, it was agreed upon that there was nothing left for them now but danger. They worked together to rebuild their chantry hall, imbuing the wood and stone with sigils and spells to keep what was left of Crownfire safe. With some effort, [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35348722]Secondlight [/url]created a pair of waystones: Any dragon of Crownfire who came upon the ruins of their clan had only to touch the stone left there and they would find the clan, linked by the other half of the pair.
With heavy hearts, and lacking much hope, they packed what was left worth salvaging and left their home behind, heading to the only other place where they still felt roots:
Dragonhome.
[nextcol][item=unfinished painting][item=intact clay pot][item=frozen rock flow][item=bottled embers][item=cracked leather][item=shale][item=Intact Stone Relief]
[/columns]
They stood without speaking in the entrance of Crownfire, the silence broken only by the cracking and popping of wood in the distance. The stone under their feet was blackened by soot, covered in a myriad of cracks caused by the heat. Where once the chantry had stood silhouetted against the sky was now emptiness, the building having burnt to its lower levels. Both dragons could remember how it had looked engulfed in flames. Down below, the chantry bell lay in a pile of wood and ash and broken glass. After some time spent simply surveying the damage to the surface, Anders stepped forward into their abandoned home, and Quire followed quickly with scroll and quill, ready to make an account of the damage to bring back to the clan.
. . . . .
Deeper into the lair, things seemed mostly undisturbed. In some areas, the walls were blackened from smoke, destroying the intricate murals that had once graced them, a loss that Anders grieved with a low string of curses. The wooden benches that marked resting places in the halls were covered in soot, candles melted in their sconces. The further down they went, the safer the rooms- this far down, they’d been protected by winding passageways, isolated from the heat through the earth. With careful precision, Quire marked each area based on damage- certain symbols to convey a place as safe, mildly damaged, moderately damaged, destroyed- for the most part, the repairs would be minimal.
Like the murals, some losses were irreplaceable. They moved into the once-cozy space shared by Boniface and Eilif with trepidation, the remains of the chantry having given them fair warning as to what could happen to a place so close to the surface. The glass panes that Signe had carefully constructed and set into the ceiling were cracked from heat, and the flames had made their way into the room with apparent ease, setting the walls of fabrics aflame, destroying the fine furniture. Bolts of cloth had fallen to the floor from collapsed shelves, the sides that had been facing walls still clean and colorful, a stark contrast to the flaking ash the flames had left behind, like two sides of a coin. The low tables still held their tools, but all were destroyed beyond use, and the wood of the tables had buckled and flaked in the fire. Not for the first time, they marveled at how something beyond repair could yet maintain its shape. Here, Quire marked another place destroyed.
. . . . .
Later, in the great hall, they found something unusual. The entrance to the abandoned halls that sprawled deep below Crownfire was marred with soot. The stone above the doorway was deeply cracked, obscuring the runes that had been carved in to its surface long ago. Many dragons who'd been warded away by the runes and spells now found themselves drawn to old halls which they'd never quite noticed before. But torches nor spelled light lasted much more than a few feet into the chambers before being snuffed, and those in the clan that had any knowledge of spirits knew better than to dwell in the darkness for long. Together, Callahan and Quire applied new wards to the broken entryway, an attempt to hold back whatever lay below the surface.
They assessed the damage and held many meetings, allowing the clan to voice their fears. In the end, it was agreed upon that there was nothing left for them now but danger. They worked together to rebuild their chantry hall, imbuing the wood and stone with sigils and spells to keep what was left of Crownfire safe. With some effort, Secondlight created a pair of waystones: Any dragon of Crownfire who came upon the ruins of their clan had only to touch the stone left there and they would find the clan, linked by the other half of the pair.
With heavy hearts, and lacking much hope, they packed what was left worth salvaging and left their home behind, heading to the only other place where they still felt roots:
Dragonhome.
Unfinished Painting
Trinkets
Perhaps its not unfinished- perhaps this is a metaphor for life composed into a painting. Perhaps this brilliance is the answer to the questions we all have! Or perhaps... procrastination. (Special thanks to Raptured.)
81
Intact Clay Pot
Trinkets
A large, dusty clay pot that is in usable condition.
72
Frozen Rock Flow
Minerals & Ores
Any heat this rock once held has long since dispersed.
80
Bottled Embers
Trinkets
What is captured must be quickly released or smoke will be all that remains.
25
Cracked Leather
Dragonmade
The condition of this leather could be worse.
15
Shale
Minerals & Ores
Particles in this flaky sedimentary stone shimmer in the sunlight.
15
Intact Stone Relief
Dragonmade
A carved relief that depicts a story of a Guardian dragon hatchling journeying to find their ward.
65
[center][size=2]| [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_2113037]intro[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484894]crownfire[/url] | [b][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484896]library[/url][/b] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484897]abandoned halls[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484899]chantry[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484901]airship[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484903]traveling[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484904]carrion collective[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25762708]X[/url] |[/size][/center]
[br][br]
Found safe after the fire, thanks mostly to it's being so far underground. Clan scholars have decided that if the flames had reached this room, the fuel found here would have been enough to double the size of the fire inside of the clan halls. The Council of Repair meets here, much to the discontent of the stand-in librarian Enstatite. Callahan and Tenar have taken to creating evacuation routes with Cinna the mapmaker.
[br][br]
[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=8894007][img]http://i.imgur.com/sKJ5Sq9.png[/img][/url][color=transparent]X[/color][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32858793][img]http://i.imgur.com/ZD7hZ8i.png[/img][/url][color=transparent]X[/color][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32949339][img]http://i.imgur.com/lJo5eP6.png[/img][/url][color=transparent]X[/color][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32349404][img]http://i.imgur.com/V4PWH4W.png[/img][/url][color=transparent]X[/color][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=34003819][img]http://i.imgur.com/PAIrNqh.png[/img][/url][color=transparent]X[/color][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13235846][img]http://i.imgur.com/ViyJa9K.png[/img][/url][/center]
Found safe after the fire, thanks mostly to it's being so far underground. Clan scholars have decided that if the flames had reached this room, the fuel found here would have been enough to double the size of the fire inside of the clan halls. The Council of Repair meets here, much to the discontent of the stand-in librarian Enstatite. Callahan and Tenar have taken to creating evacuation routes with Cinna the mapmaker.
Mostly ignored by the clan due to old spells, these halls have become an interest to the scholars and mages in the clan, who seek to discover why exactly they are warded to keep most Crownfire dragons out, and why certain dragons have no issue noticing the entrance and exploring the old halls.
Mostly ignored by the clan due to old spells, these halls have become an interest to the scholars and mages in the clan, who seek to discover why exactly they are warded to keep most Crownfire dragons out, and why certain dragons have no issue noticing the entrance and exploring the old halls.
Destroyed in the fire, plans to rebuild the chantry are in the works but are coming along extremely slowly. While some dragons are neutral on the subject, many have their own ideas for a new chantry hall and numerous groups have come forward with building and design proposals which the Council of Repair have decided to consider one by one. The voting process is long, tedious, and bothersome.
Destroyed in the fire, plans to rebuild the chantry are in the works but are coming along extremely slowly. While some dragons are neutral on the subject, many have their own ideas for a new chantry hall and numerous groups have come forward with building and design proposals which the Council of Repair have decided to consider one by one. The voting process is long, tedious, and bothersome.
They'd traveled far on the words of the bogsneak, and a messenger that none were quite sure they could trust. A few golden coins were all that bound the messenger to them, and they knew how easily a dragon could be swayed by the promise of something more. Winding along a narrow ledge, they found themselves falling into line behind the intensely focused bogsneak. Wind whipped viciously around them, leaving their faces feeling burnt and dry. Those who'd thought to wear scarves pulled them up about their eyes, but the wind was relentless in the Reedcleft Ascent. Grass and debris cut under their clothes, the sharp winds turning even the softest material into cutting daggers. They chattered about nonsense things, just to pass the time. Not for the first time, one of the group voiced their shared fear, raising his voice to be heard by all above the whistling winds- "For all we know, he could have led us right to nothing. Nipped our food and took our coin- hell, he worked up the price!- For all we know, he could've led us to some blood-thirsty group, planned to get the coin and then send us off to them to finish the job-" but the bogsneak, Frea, cut him off with a sharp look, her tail whipping behind her, warning them all of her growing irritation. They'd all been simple mercenaries before this trip, but they'd each worked together with Frea at some point. She'd found this job, and she'd sent the messenger to all of them, so they'd followed her lead. Quick as a lark he'd found them, as efficiently as he'd promised the bogsneak he would the night they'd met, his glowing eyes the only things illuminating the darkened corner of the tavern. For some reason, she'd trusted his tale of a forgotten treasure, some large cache tucked away in the Windsinger's domain, left behind and forgotten by some long-gone king. Frea was no fool, and not quick to trust some errant messenger. That night, she'd taken a chance. She'd given him the names of the dragons that followed miserably behind her now, and she'd promised them all that the prize would be worth it. They were wearing down, losing faith, the journey having grown nearly unbearable now that the winds were too rough to fly safely. But they trusted her resolve, too thirsty for profit to give out now. The truth was, she knew about as much as the rest of them. And that meant she knew nothing.
Beneath the surface, they were splintering apart. Like some deep insidious thing, doubt spread through their thoughts until it made even the simplest of tasks a burden. They could hardly navigate a mile without disagreeing over which step to take. In the middle of the night, a pair of these doubt-stricken dragons stood over the bogsneak and watched her sleep. One, a scarred mirror with one blind eye, placed his hand to his dagger, his forehead wrinkled in thought. The other, a coatl, gripped two straws in his fist, holding it out between them. "Look... I don't know about this, Giles, and I'm not gonna just do it. We can draw for it or we can give it up now," the coatl hissed in a thick accent, glaring at the mirror. He shook the hand holding the straws for emphasis, looking at the bogsneak from the corner of his eye and hoping that Giles hadn't noticed him picking two straws the same length. The mirror hissed his disdain, then shoved the coatls hand away. "Forget that. I'll do it- I'm tired of wandering around after some lady anyway. She never was good at givin' up control, even when we was young." He drew the dagger forward, grinning now at the coatl and stepping towards Frea. With a wink, he laughed out, "Here's to finding that treasure ourse-" But he never finished the words. Almost too quickly to follow, Frea turned and grabbed the hand that held the dagger. She twisted it quickly, easily overpowering the mirror, who cried out at the sudden pain of a wrist that was surely broken. He had no time to find out if it was or not, as it took only a moment for the bogsneak to end him with the very dagger he'd meant for her. She almost chuckled at the thought of being killed by a dragon who'd learned all of his best tricks from her. The coatl was already running back to the rest of the group when finally she turned her blazing glare to him, scrambling over the sleeping forms of other dragons to distance himself from her. "It was not my idea!" he hissed out, tucking himself inside a thick stand of reeds. The rest of the group was well awake now, trained to quickly cast sleep aside if need be. They trained their eyes on Frea as she made her way to the reeds and the coatl who cowered within. When dawn came, a few shouldered their packs and turned away from the group, heading back down the cliffs, putting the promise of treasure behind them.
. . . . .
They didn't waste their energy with talking anymore. The trails grew narrower as they climbed, and the air thinned out until the pressure made their ears crackle and pop. The few of them that were left were hurrying now, almost running- through breaks in the overgrown reeds, they'd finally seen their quarry, its metal frame shining through long-rotten boards, the corpse of a dragon-made beast: an airship. "You see!" Frea shouted to them over the whistling winds, "The messenger spoke the truth. With this, we'll be Setting up camp in the shadow of the dilapidated structure, they finally allowed themselves a long sleep. There would be much work ahead, and the spellcasters who hadn't turned back quietly discussed methods of getting the ship into the air.
They'd traveled far on the words of the bogsneak, and a messenger that none were quite sure they could trust. A few golden coins were all that bound the messenger to them, and they knew how easily a dragon could be swayed by the promise of something more. Winding along a narrow ledge, they found themselves falling into line behind the intensely focused bogsneak. Wind whipped viciously around them, leaving their faces feeling burnt and dry. Those who'd thought to wear scarves pulled them up about their eyes, but the wind was relentless in the Reedcleft Ascent. Grass and debris cut under their clothes, the sharp winds turning even the softest material into cutting daggers. They chattered about nonsense things, just to pass the time. Not for the first time, one of the group voiced their shared fear, raising his voice to be heard by all above the whistling winds- "For all we know, he could have led us right to nothing. Nipped our food and took our coin- hell, he worked up the price!- For all we know, he could've led us to some blood-thirsty group, planned to get the coin and then send us off to them to finish the job-" but the bogsneak, Frea, cut him off with a sharp look, her tail whipping behind her, warning them all of her growing irritation. They'd all been simple mercenaries before this trip, but they'd each worked together with Frea at some point. She'd found this job, and she'd sent the messenger to all of them, so they'd followed her lead. Quick as a lark he'd found them, as efficiently as he'd promised the bogsneak he would the night they'd met, his glowing eyes the only things illuminating the darkened corner of the tavern. For some reason, she'd trusted his tale of a forgotten treasure, some large cache tucked away in the Windsinger's domain, left behind and forgotten by some long-gone king. Frea was no fool, and not quick to trust some errant messenger. That night, she'd taken a chance. She'd given him the names of the dragons that followed miserably behind her now, and she'd promised them all that the prize would be worth it. They were wearing down, losing faith, the journey having grown nearly unbearable now that the winds were too rough to fly safely. But they trusted her resolve, too thirsty for profit to give out now. The truth was, she knew about as much as the rest of them. And that meant she knew nothing.
Beneath the surface, they were splintering apart. Like some deep insidious thing, doubt spread through their thoughts until it made even the simplest of tasks a burden. They could hardly navigate a mile without disagreeing over which step to take. In the middle of the night, a pair of these doubt-stricken dragons stood over the bogsneak and watched her sleep. One, a scarred mirror with one blind eye, placed his hand to his dagger, his forehead wrinkled in thought. The other, a coatl, gripped two straws in his fist, holding it out between them. "Look... I don't know about this, Giles, and I'm not gonna just do it. We can draw for it or we can give it up now," the coatl hissed in a thick accent, glaring at the mirror. He shook the hand holding the straws for emphasis, looking at the bogsneak from the corner of his eye and hoping that Giles hadn't noticed him picking two straws the same length. The mirror hissed his disdain, then shoved the coatls hand away. "Forget that. I'll do it- I'm tired of wandering around after some lady anyway. She never was good at givin' up control, even when we was young." He drew the dagger forward, grinning now at the coatl and stepping towards Frea. With a wink, he laughed out, "Here's to finding that treasure ourse-" But he never finished the words. Almost too quickly to follow, Frea turned and grabbed the hand that held the dagger. She twisted it quickly, easily overpowering the mirror, who cried out at the sudden pain of a wrist that was surely broken. He had no time to find out if it was or not, as it took only a moment for the bogsneak to end him with the very dagger he'd meant for her. She almost chuckled at the thought of being killed by a dragon who'd learned all of his best tricks from her. The coatl was already running back to the rest of the group when finally she turned her blazing glare to him, scrambling over the sleeping forms of other dragons to distance himself from her. "It was not my idea!" he hissed out, tucking himself inside a thick stand of reeds. The rest of the group was well awake now, trained to quickly cast sleep aside if need be. They trained their eyes on Frea as she made her way to the reeds and the coatl who cowered within. When dawn came, a few shouldered their packs and turned away from the group, heading back down the cliffs, putting the promise of treasure behind them.
. . . . .
They didn't waste their energy with talking anymore. The trails grew narrower as they climbed, and the air thinned out until the pressure made their ears crackle and pop. The few of them that were left were hurrying now, almost running- through breaks in the overgrown reeds, they'd finally seen their quarry, its metal frame shining through long-rotten boards, the corpse of a dragon-made beast: an airship. "You see!" Frea shouted to them over the whistling winds, "The messenger spoke the truth. With this, we'll be Setting up camp in the shadow of the dilapidated structure, they finally allowed themselves a long sleep. There would be much work ahead, and the spellcasters who hadn't turned back quietly discussed methods of getting the ship into the air.
[center][size=2]| [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_2113037]intro[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484894]crownfire[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484896]library[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484897]abandoned halls[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484899]chantry[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484901]airship[/url] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484903]traveling[/url] | [b][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25484904]carrion collective[/url][/b] | [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2113037#post_25762708]X[/url] |[/size][/center]
[br]
[columns]
[url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/1449587][img]http://orig09.deviantart.net/21ab/f/2015/147/5/9/fr__lightning_by_baelfin-d8uyn76.png[/img][/url][i]Carrion Collective[/i]
[center]Ini-herit's desert trading post is a sprawling settlement close to the edge of the Carrion Canyon. Once an organized post, it is now an inviting residence for crooks and con artists, necromancers, and practitioners of black magic alike. Tents shove up to wooden buildings or walls of smooth sandstone, cluttering the edges of the trading post in such a way that the only remaining paths through draw travelers into the heart of the post- a spacious area which once boasted perfectly planned streets, now teeming with street vendors and seedy taverns, each dragon looking to hawk their own personal brand of snake oil. For miles on end, this stop is known as the only place to find a good bite to eat, rest, medicine, or much-needed water- all at a cost.
Bamboo chimes and red and gold paper lanterns hang throughout the mismatched streets of expensively crafted tents and dilapidated shelters, to outsiders giving the settlement the cheerful air of a festival. But the ember glow and hollow cacophony are not for mere decoration. Here, they are thought to keep spirits well at bay. But spirits are not unheard of here regardless- the empty desert stretches out in all directions, and those who fear the interruption of the lanterns and chimes have made the shifting dunes home to all manner of rituals and spells.
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[item=night flame]
[item=stone knife]
[item=magi casting rod]
[item=shattered reading spectacles]
[item=stormcatcher scrap metal welding]
[nextcol]
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Ini-herit's desert trading post is a sprawling settlement close to the edge of the Carrion Canyon. Once an organized post, it is now an inviting residence for crooks and con artists, necromancers, and practitioners of black magic alike. Tents shove up to wooden buildings or walls of smooth sandstone, cluttering the edges of the trading post in such a way that the only remaining paths through draw travelers into the heart of the post- a spacious area which once boasted perfectly planned streets, now teeming with street vendors and seedy taverns, each dragon looking to hawk their own personal brand of snake oil. For miles on end, this stop is known as the only place to find a good bite to eat, rest, medicine, or much-needed water- all at a cost.
Bamboo chimes and red and gold paper lanterns hang throughout the mismatched streets of expensively crafted tents and dilapidated shelters, to outsiders giving the settlement the cheerful air of a festival. But the ember glow and hollow cacophony are not for mere decoration. Here, they are thought to keep spirits well at bay. But spirits are not unheard of here regardless- the empty desert stretches out in all directions, and those who fear the interruption of the lanterns and chimes have made the shifting dunes home to all manner of rituals and spells.
These enchanting candles are saved for telling ghost stories.
46
Stone Knife
Trinkets
A piece of history from the first beastclan conflicts.
78
Magi Casting Rod
Trinkets
It took many years for a Longneck to learn how to use this staff. It only took them a few minutes to learn they chose the wrong dragon to use it on. (Special thanks Nothlit.)
40
Shattered Reading Spectacles
Trinkets
A pair of wire spectacles. The lenses have been broken, and the arms are bent. These are probably beyond repair.
75
Stormcatcher Scrap Metal Welding
Trinkets
An imposing metal sculpture designed to look like the Stormcatcher. It looks like it was hastily constructed under an imposed time limit.
In terms of his childhood- the reason his mom takes charge of raising them is because dad is nearly always running around taking/working on orders for the clans apparel. It's not that he has to do this, it's I guess a hard-headedness that he can't seem to get past. He resents his brother for what he sees as laziness, but his brother (Belenos' uncle) isn't actually that lazy. He spends most of his time dealing with the mental health of the clan or going to various festivals to sell the items that Belenos' father makes. So Fariha sees the flaws in this relationship and that's why she tends to keep the kids out of their father and uncles way.
Because of this, almost all of the kids from these two are going to have keen survival skills- they will know at least the basics of hunting and tracking, have a head for planning and following through with their plans, a lot of leadership abilities, and the creative know-how to basically Macgyver their way through any situation because of course, they aren't completely cut off from their dad so they'll have picked up some of those creative skills from him- they all know how to sew, and some of them have picked up things they have special interest in- I think one of his sisters, Brodi, can embroider enchantments into cloth which I think is pretty unique!
---
Actually yeah, that is something you could work with. There are definitely a few of them who stuck around with their uncle either in secret so as not to be like, defiant I guess? Or just openly. I think at the end of the day as much as she dislikes him, Fariha does understand that trying to force them against a decision would just drive them off, if that makes sense?
Boniface is really open about his abilities so if any of the kids have similar talents he would probably be the best bet to teach them how to handle those abilities? It's a mostly currently unwritten thing but a large portion of my clan for some reason chooses to believe or maybe pretend that magic isn't a thing so for a child to have abilities like that, it might have been almost a hushed thing? You can choose to roll with or ignore that though as it is your lore, but if, for instance, Belenos was sensitive to emotional energy or anything like that, Fariha and Eilif wouldn't have a whole lot of options to turn to other than uncle Bon. He would probably just give them some tips on coping because for him it was an extremely overwhelming thing and still is. It's what keeps him from doing much else, so while he is helpful to many dragons, it's also kind of sad on his end because it comes between him being able to lead a mostly normal life. That also doesn't have to be the case for Belenos at all but maybe it just makes Boniface more equipped to hand out advice, so he could say "here's some tips on how to stop yourself from getting this entrenched in the emotions you feel."
In terms of his childhood- the reason his mom takes charge of raising them is because dad is nearly always running around taking/working on orders for the clans apparel. It's not that he has to do this, it's I guess a hard-headedness that he can't seem to get past. He resents his brother for what he sees as laziness, but his brother (Belenos' uncle) isn't actually that lazy. He spends most of his time dealing with the mental health of the clan or going to various festivals to sell the items that Belenos' father makes. So Fariha sees the flaws in this relationship and that's why she tends to keep the kids out of their father and uncles way.
Because of this, almost all of the kids from these two are going to have keen survival skills- they will know at least the basics of hunting and tracking, have a head for planning and following through with their plans, a lot of leadership abilities, and the creative know-how to basically Macgyver their way through any situation because of course, they aren't completely cut off from their dad so they'll have picked up some of those creative skills from him- they all know how to sew, and some of them have picked up things they have special interest in- I think one of his sisters, Brodi, can embroider enchantments into cloth which I think is pretty unique!
---
Actually yeah, that is something you could work with. There are definitely a few of them who stuck around with their uncle either in secret so as not to be like, defiant I guess? Or just openly. I think at the end of the day as much as she dislikes him, Fariha does understand that trying to force them against a decision would just drive them off, if that makes sense?
Boniface is really open about his abilities so if any of the kids have similar talents he would probably be the best bet to teach them how to handle those abilities? It's a mostly currently unwritten thing but a large portion of my clan for some reason chooses to believe or maybe pretend that magic isn't a thing so for a child to have abilities like that, it might have been almost a hushed thing? You can choose to roll with or ignore that though as it is your lore, but if, for instance, Belenos was sensitive to emotional energy or anything like that, Fariha and Eilif wouldn't have a whole lot of options to turn to other than uncle Bon. He would probably just give them some tips on coping because for him it was an extremely overwhelming thing and still is. It's what keeps him from doing much else, so while he is helpful to many dragons, it's also kind of sad on his end because it comes between him being able to lead a mostly normal life. That also doesn't have to be the case for Belenos at all but maybe it just makes Boniface more equipped to hand out advice, so he could say "here's some tips on how to stop yourself from getting this entrenched in the emotions you feel."
