Lotus's Art Hut [OPEN] [USD]
Trumpeteer's Clan
[plays Uptown Funk very loud on car speakers]
Clan Info
Hello, friend. Are you my friend? Well, you are now! I'm open to random friend requests, PMs, comments, etc! Feel free to just. Friend me whenever. But I like it a lot more when you shoot me a comment or something just saying hello! Thanks, and nice to meet you! <3
Trade and Bone (Clan Tune)
Welcome to the Caristhine and its company, a plague-loyal lore lair. It has gone through many names, explored many places, been under a few different powers. It started as the Poison Talons, a band of misfits under the protection of the guardian Archer, and has grown into what it is today: A clan that desires to thrive under its unusual conditions, a clan that lies peacefully in the hand of survival. The clan now rests in a time unprecedented to them, one without war, as a common trading post for various clans and numerous different resources, and a rest stop seated on a frequently used path through the boneyard. The Caristhine is willing to barter for any materials they have gained from the plentiful new faces they encounter, and the Hive offers to hire out its plaguelings for hunting, guardship, tracking, and other services of the like. Come on in, take a seat! Just don't inhale too much Wasteland dust.
Parts of the Clan:
In Chains: Osseus, the wyrmwound-bred unseated leader, an invader to the original clan.
Caristhine: The last twenty dragons that remain alive in the face of the wasteland and live amongst the hive, most of them members of the original Poison Talons tribe.
The Emperor: The resident emperor of the clan, Italia. She has had many years to recover from her initial phase of fury that most emperors are known for, and now, the rotting parts of her have been reduced to bone and she has become a, for the most part, peaceful soul.
The Hive: The enormous, ever-growing clan of zombies, interconnected under the mind of a virus that forces a dragon's death then returns it as a new, more powerful beast, led by the first of them which resided in the clan, Relietta.
The Sea: A group of seafaring traders and, sometimes, pirates, that have made close alliance and market connections with the Caristhine. They now serve as the clan's postal service and are their main trade source to other flights.
- Marrowmouth Graveyard -
It's been... weeks. You've lost track of how many. It became futile to count after the first few sun rises and falls. Although the shifting expanse, the place from which you hail, is known as the great desert of the world, you wondered why you weren't taught about how massive and ruthless a wasteland the Abiding Boneyard was. It was as if the landscape you had grown accustomed to throughout your childhood was wrapped up and enclosed in an air of sickness, then released again to thrive - or die - as it so chose. The Boneyard was no home. There were none you could pick out, anyhow. But, you just had to get to the end of the contagion. You've reached its halfway point, you were sure, and all of your sweat and blood surely showed it. Just a little longer... Once you reached the clean waters, you were home free. You had a way home there. You had a return boat waiting for you.
You were moving down the Dread Valley at a pace that didn't lift your spirits. You still couldn't see the sea over the horizon, you still couldn't find the end of the slope. The sickness around you continued attempting to seep into your skin at every moment, and you became more tempted to let it. The guide that had brought you to your business place at the wyrmwound had died days ago due to murder, and now you were left, after running, on a trek of your own. You had made it this far, though. Across the Boneyard. Just a little further...
There stood something in the distance. Something... gargantuan. Something imposing. You peered, squinted, trying to get the best glance through the waving arid air. A skull, bigger than anything you had ever seen. Comparable to the size of some of the great skeletons you had seen in the Carrion Canyon in your past. But those were preserved in the dust. This one was being claimed by the land. This one was being, slowly but surely, overtaken by the rot. The wasteland fed upon its marrow and grew around the deceased creature's behemoth ribs. Veins and tendrils crawled up the lower jaw, enveloping it and making it into part of the ground. What's more, there was something beneath it. Something large, active, and colorful. Way out here? In this environment? There was no way.
It looked like a city. Not one filled with joy or laughter, but one of exchange. Trade. Demands. You could hear business happening even from your distance. And, watching it over it all, high above, sitting atop the nose of the skull like a watchdog, was a mirror. Lean, adorned in bird skulls, and falling apart with rot. On a banner just below her talons were written the words,
Endure and thrive in the name of the Plaguemother.
Trade and Bone (Clan Tune)
Welcome to the Caristhine and its company, a plague-loyal lore lair. It has gone through many names, explored many places, been under a few different powers. It started as the Poison Talons, a band of misfits under the protection of the guardian Archer, and has grown into what it is today: A clan that desires to thrive under its unusual conditions, a clan that lies peacefully in the hand of survival. The clan now rests in a time unprecedented to them, one without war, as a common trading post for various clans and numerous different resources, and a rest stop seated on a frequently used path through the boneyard. The Caristhine is willing to barter for any materials they have gained from the plentiful new faces they encounter, and the Hive offers to hire out its plaguelings for hunting, guardship, tracking, and other services of the like. Come on in, take a seat! Just don't inhale too much Wasteland dust.
Parts of the Clan:
In Chains: Osseus, the wyrmwound-bred unseated leader, an invader to the original clan.
Caristhine: The last twenty dragons that remain alive in the face of the wasteland and live amongst the hive, most of them members of the original Poison Talons tribe.
The Emperor: The resident emperor of the clan, Italia. She has had many years to recover from her initial phase of fury that most emperors are known for, and now, the rotting parts of her have been reduced to bone and she has become a, for the most part, peaceful soul.
The Hive: The enormous, ever-growing clan of zombies, interconnected under the mind of a virus that forces a dragon's death then returns it as a new, more powerful beast, led by the first of them which resided in the clan, Relietta.
The Sea: A group of seafaring traders and, sometimes, pirates, that have made close alliance and market connections with the Caristhine. They now serve as the clan's postal service and are their main trade source to other flights.
- Marrowmouth Graveyard -
It's been... weeks. You've lost track of how many. It became futile to count after the first few sun rises and falls. Although the shifting expanse, the place from which you hail, is known as the great desert of the world, you wondered why you weren't taught about how massive and ruthless a wasteland the Abiding Boneyard was. It was as if the landscape you had grown accustomed to throughout your childhood was wrapped up and enclosed in an air of sickness, then released again to thrive - or die - as it so chose. The Boneyard was no home. There were none you could pick out, anyhow. But, you just had to get to the end of the contagion. You've reached its halfway point, you were sure, and all of your sweat and blood surely showed it. Just a little longer... Once you reached the clean waters, you were home free. You had a way home there. You had a return boat waiting for you.
You were moving down the Dread Valley at a pace that didn't lift your spirits. You still couldn't see the sea over the horizon, you still couldn't find the end of the slope. The sickness around you continued attempting to seep into your skin at every moment, and you became more tempted to let it. The guide that had brought you to your business place at the wyrmwound had died days ago due to murder, and now you were left, after running, on a trek of your own. You had made it this far, though. Across the Boneyard. Just a little further...
There stood something in the distance. Something... gargantuan. Something imposing. You peered, squinted, trying to get the best glance through the waving arid air. A skull, bigger than anything you had ever seen. Comparable to the size of some of the great skeletons you had seen in the Carrion Canyon in your past. But those were preserved in the dust. This one was being claimed by the land. This one was being, slowly but surely, overtaken by the rot. The wasteland fed upon its marrow and grew around the deceased creature's behemoth ribs. Veins and tendrils crawled up the lower jaw, enveloping it and making it into part of the ground. What's more, there was something beneath it. Something large, active, and colorful. Way out here? In this environment? There was no way.
It looked like a city. Not one filled with joy or laughter, but one of exchange. Trade. Demands. You could hear business happening even from your distance. And, watching it over it all, high above, sitting atop the nose of the skull like a watchdog, was a mirror. Lean, adorned in bird skulls, and falling apart with rot. On a banner just below her talons were written the words,
Endure and thrive in the name of the Plaguemother.
Allies
- Bin Kokhavim -
- The Blazing Claws -
- The Helix Guild -
Formerly
- The Desovar -
Trade Partners
- Deep Rock Galactic & Six Feathers -
- Moonvale...? -
Enemies
- Moonvale -
Why don't we just relax, turn on the radio? Would you like AMMMMM, or FMMMMM?
Dream Dragon
About Me
Trumpet | She/her | Bi | Bug Eater
Artist | Author | Worldbuilder | Euclidian Geometry Enthusiast
Aspiring Entomologist & Teacher
Howdy! I'm Trumpet, and I've been on FR for a hot second, but a lot of that time has been blips of activity or growing accustomed to new features. Glad to have you at my lair! I work at my lore constantly, so I really appreciate it if you take the time to explore. Hit me up with a conversation or roleplay proposal anytime! I love D&D, Monster Hunter, Hollowknight, and anything dragon or worldbuilding. I have a snake, and I lov,, him,,,, <3
- Bin Kokhavim -
- The Blazing Claws -
- The Helix Guild -
Formerly
- The Desovar -
Trade Partners
- Deep Rock Galactic & Six Feathers -
- Moonvale...? -
Enemies
- Moonvale -
Why don't we just relax, turn on the radio? Would you like AMMMMM, or FMMMMM?
Dream Dragon
Redtide
About Me
Trumpet | She/her | Bi | Bug Eater
Artist | Author | Worldbuilder | Euclidian Geometry Enthusiast
Aspiring Entomologist & Teacher
Howdy! I'm Trumpet, and I've been on FR for a hot second, but a lot of that time has been blips of activity or growing accustomed to new features. Glad to have you at my lair! I work at my lore constantly, so I really appreciate it if you take the time to explore. Hit me up with a conversation or roleplay proposal anytime! I love D&D, Monster Hunter, Hollowknight, and anything dragon or worldbuilding. I have a snake, and I lov,, him,,,, <3
Recent Comments
Happy birthday!
OWO. I see that you have some very sealable kneecaps.
u smell like dirt king
Me: *sees your broadcast*
Satan: You see, I just want to say I'm a huge fan.
*whips and nae naes* no
Happy birthday!
Wow how dare you. My vibes ARE stinky I'll have you know an
How are your vibes stinky >:))))
lemme grabby hands @ this babby https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/62125717
i really like Pearl,,, or Luminos?? they're so shiny but they're so shiny i don't?? want them to be wasted on my dumb lil account???
no prob, she's now leader of my clan
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