astrolatryy » Clan | Lair | Nesting Grounds

astrolatryy's Clan

i have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night

Venerable Lair

carved into the

Rotrock Rim

Clan Info

night • they/them • fr+2
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astrolatry - the worship of stars

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hello, i'm night, and i like dragons! i especially like dressing them, writing for them, and throwing them at the nearest dragon god.

this is an exalting lair—if i buy your dragon at fodder price it's probably going to become soup! please DM me if you don't want that to happen. <3

my lore is heavily WIP, but feel free to check it out here if you're interested.

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⸙ code by wanderlustfaun

You don't know how long you've been walking.

The Abiding Boneyard is harsh, arid, and seemingly devoid of life, although the very ground pulses beneath your talons. Some kind of reddish miasma has filled the air in the days since you've started your trek across the wastelands, low enough to impede flight. And although there is still enough light to see by, the skies are obscured to the point where you cannot tell if it is night or day.

You've come prepared. Whether by biological adaptation or covering yourself in layers of concealing apparel, you expected the risks. But you have been walking for so very long, and your talons ache.

But—there, in the distance! It's hard to see at first, obscured by the very same toxic fog that had impeded your journey, but a spire of bone juts out through the mists. The foundation of a watchtower.

A mirror watches you with beady eyes as you pass, no doubt having seen your heat signature through the mist. But they make no move to impede you, and relief hits you as the fog begins to clear as you draw closer.

A few more watchtowers and a curving wall constructed out of the ribcage of some great creature, and you finally arrive in the city. Before you, climbing up the rim of the great crater at the center of the plaguelands, weaving between great, pulsing veins of what could be called roots, is a city. Built of bone and deadwood and whatever else the native plague dragons could get their talons on, signs of other elements still peer through the whites, browns, and reds. A flicker of arcane pink catches your eye—some sort of small observatory, likely belonging to a Fae or two, has been perched as high as one could dare on the crater's rim. A chill catches your talons, and you glance to the left; an Ice dragon carrying what appear to be building materials passes you by without a word.

You've made it. The city in the wastelands: the Oasis.

The Oasis is an unlikely city located somewhere in Rotrock Rim and slowly beginning to creep towards the Wyrmwound. Although there is a traditional foundation of dens, shops and the like at its center, the actual territory it encompasses is far larger, marked by a toxic red fog known only as the Miasma.

The Miasma serves to both obscure the Clan's location from prying eyes and protect it from enemies. Its corrosive nature means that passing dragons must be careful to cover themselves completely and wear some kind of protective facewear in order to not damage their lungs via inhalation. The substance rapidly breaks down living material into more of the same stuff, keeping the fog relatively steady as long as it is kept 'fed' with a regular supply of organic material. It is possible to develop a resistance and even immunity to the stuff; those intending to be long-term residents of the Oasis often ingest small amounts of liquefied Miasma in their meals to develop this immunity.

Watchtowers manned primarily by mirror dragons, who have the ability to see wanderers through the fog due to their thermal vision, dot the expanse of the Miasma. Small outposts often crop up around these watchtowers, relying on their lookout as not only an early warning system, but as a means of protection.

More developed parts of the Oasis are protected by the aberrant ribcages of a long-dead emperor, the tall, jutting bones used as the foundation of a long wall. This wall is more enforced in some parts of the Oasis than others; for the territory that the clan encompasses, it is not as well-developed as one might expect. At the very center of the Oasis, civilization reigns; the further out one gets, however, the more likely the only rule that governs some of the clan is the simple law of survival.

[ disclaimer - lore is still heavily under construction! much of this stuff will be moved to its own lore dragon once i set it up ]