PalusHiemalis » Lair » Chalcedony

Chalcedony

(#42514536)

Level 1 Imperial

Familiar

Stonewatch Harpy

Energy: 47/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

30.58 m

Wingspan

17.32 m

Weight

8439.52 kg

Genetics

Antique
Petals

Cream
Bee

Maize
Filigree

Hatchday

Jun 14, 2018
(5 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Light
Uncommon

Level 1 Imperial

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

C H A L C E D O N Y
Quill Maker

{chall-said-dun-ee.}

shrrp shrrp shrrp...
The gentle scrape of a sharp knife on the nib of a swan's feather. Nothing else could be heard, no music from a charmed harp or bird song from the skylight. The breeze from the open window stirs the dust up and out in enchanted current of air, but the silence remains. Even the pet Sweeper sways gently over the floor so as not to disturb the artisan.

Chalcedony sat coiled upon himself, holding his subject up to the light as the white peelings flitter to the dusty floor. Illuminated in the sunbeams, it almost looks like snow swirling in the light alongside tufts of down and countless particles of dust. He wore a mask tight around his muzzle to protect his lungs as he works, little magnifying lenses placed over his right eye. The mask blocks his ears somewhat, he hardly heard his workshop door slide open as a visitor poked their snout into watch him.

shrrp shrrp shrrp...
"Hello, Chalcey!"
Chalcedony made a strangled squeak. The knife flipped out his claws and nose dived into the ragged work counter, vibrating with the impact. The Swan feather swirled and twirled down to the floor where Aristarchos caught it in his teeth.

Chalcedony shakes out his mane and plucks off his mask, taking a deep puff to calm himself down. He scowls down at the Pearlcatcher who started to fiddle nonchalantly with his hard work.
"Hello, Aristarchos." He sighed, carefully taking the quill back, "Your inking quill isn't quite finished."
"I am sorry to scare you, mate." He said, trotting after him as he settled back into his work position.
Chalcedony stretched and cracked his neck, he must not have moved for hours until Aristarchos made him jump. There was a pestering crick in his back, he grumbled and squinted at the skylight... It was some hours past noon.

"You don't have to rush my quill, I know its coming up on the Jubilee and everyone wants a handmade gift... I just wanted to get you out for a bit of a break!"
"Did Lassuarium send you?" He lowered his head and eyed him.
"She told me to make myself useful for once, she's a bit on edge with the festival coming up. I figured I'd check in on everyone. I was just finishing up when I noticed you were still up and about. I came around before but I know you hate being disturbed..."
"Oh... er, thanks. But I am completely fine, I want to finish this piece by five o'clock."
"Okay, just checking, Chalcey, do you mean in the morning or evening...?"
He blinked and began to look even paler around his scales.
"Do you know what time it is?" Aristarchos said, in the same tone he would ask a lost hatchling trying to find his parents.

Chalcedony took out his fob watch; his stomach dropped as he saw the filigree hand read five o'clock... in the morning. He shook himself out again and began to feel the ache of the hours of work sink into his bones. His tummy was empty, his tongue was dry and tasted like his stale tea and milk from breakfast. His tail felt numb from being squashed under himself in his attempt to get comfortable for his long work day.

"Alright, lets get you an early breakfast and then straight to bed." Aristarchos began to pad towards the door. Chalcedony followed sheepishly. He passed the hundreds of neatly boxed and packaged orders ready to fly out with Tonka, who would be starting his shift about now.

Ostrich plumes, peacock tails, Gryphon pinions and an assortment of Roc feathers standing as tall as he. All of them had been sharpened, nibbed and charmed to their required specifications. His darling Sidereus would parcel up their accompanying inks. They would be sent away across Sornieth to the finest spellscribes and calligraphers alive. He should be proud, he thought, he should feel something inspiring or triumphant. Instead, he was hungry. He was parched. All he wanted was to curl up in his nest for a week.

Aristarchos soon dragged him up to the Roof Garden to watch the sunrise and eat some eggs, tea and copious amounts of buttery toast. Aristarchos didn't seem to mind the hour; he was a night owl and took many midnight appointments as magical ceremonies demanded. He finished his breakfast and felt like a new dragon, a very weary and wobbly dragon, but renewed at the very least.

"Have you been worried about keeping up with all those orders?"
"Don't be silly." Chalcedony yawned, eyeing the teapot for a refill, "I got lost in my work."
"Do you need any help, mate?"
Chalcedony bit his lip before heaving a sigh, "...Yes. But not from you. I don't want anymore bite marks on my quills."

Coded by @Palushiemalus #124501
Bordered Gifs by @Delamire

Art by @Evrah

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Exalting Chalcedony to the service of the Lightweaver will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

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