oh boi i was hoping someone wouldn’t ask this one rip
A bunch of dragons just trying to live their lives but shit keeps happening and messing thing up. Please don’t mind the mysterious figures that might just be demons that have ulterior motives that tell both the future and the past, but not at the same time because hahahhah that’s ridiculous …
Any seafaring dragons?
Not really. I mean, the Clan is in the middle of a literal desert. But the closest would be Surge. Due to being the Clan’s Water ambassador, he would have spent quite a bit of time on the sea during his pilgrimage to learn of his birth Flight.
My Clan is, in lore at least, located in the same massive mesa as the Tempest Spire.
The Lair was once an ancient mine that was abandoned for… unknown reasons centuries ago. But through some pretty shifty methods became under the ownership of my progens. Fortunately for them, turns out there was a massive underground lake just a few meters further from where the excavation ended. What a wonderful location to start a Clan!
One fact about your random progen
Marcos is a dragon that just doesn’t know when to quit. For years dragons have told the Mirror to just up and leave, and stop living under the claw of his chosen mate. But he has been stubborn, saying that there’s something to Alexia that makes him just unable to abandon her.
Just what? Nobody has any clue.
One fact about your custom progen
If there’s any slightly redeeming qualities to Alexia, it’s probably her tenacity. When something gets in her head, there is little to nothing that’ll make her stop. Now, very rarely are these ideas ‘good,’ but I guess you gotta take what you can get.
Well, that’s certainly something that I’ve never really though about…
But I’d imagine Hylla could play some! In the millenia that this once-studious Light dragon has been bound to Sorneith, I’d couldn’t she her not pick up an instrument or two, both in life and ‘death.’
And on dark melancholic nights, if one listens closely in the Lair, quiet ethereal notes float slowly through the still air…
Nobody is really quite sure how exactly Ambigram joined the Clan. She simply padded in after Murk one day when he returned from an excursion to get more medical supplies, stating that she was going to be his new apprentice.
When the Nocturne was asked about it, he shrugged and said that she “just showed up” beside him and asked if it was okay to follow in order to learn about what he was doing. And, well, who was he to deny someone the knowledge of how to heal?
Oceanic’s Runaway Rotclaw isn’t an actual parasite, but instead is a carefully created automaton that he built with the help of Eulalia many years ago! It is programmed to slowly turn and curl to mimic the actual thing.
However, between the two of them (And one being a completely born and raised Lightning dragon) a great engineer is not made. The Rotclaw has a common tendency to short out and go completely haywire. Luckily, there is a shutoff button.
Snow? In Lightning territory? (It's more likely than you think.)
Stratos stared up at the sky, a dubious look on his face.
Thick gray clouds rolled overhead and from them fell large, fluffy flakes of snow. Not that the Fae had never seen snow before, he’s traveled to near every corner of Sornieth while bringing down every type of beast known to dragonkind. And there was the Clan’s resident Ice dragon with her perpetual self-localized snow storm. The problem was that this was Lightning Territory.
You know, the heat stroked, thunder churned desert.
As far as Stratos knew, it did not snow there.
He snorted as a snowflake lazily lighted on his snout. What in the Wyrmwound is going on now? he hissed to himself. Things had been strange in the world for the past months, perhaps this was related to it all. The Fae wracked his brain for anything that could result in the odd weather pattern.
Maybe the Crescendo? Every possibility of changes that the new twist of the storm could bring might not have been considered. This could be a new effect. Or it could have been something entirely different at fault. Maybe it was just a thing where it snowed in the Shifting Expanse once a millennia. It’s not like he’s ever decided to read through all recorded history of Lightning’s weather.
Stratos’ pondering of the origin of the foreign precipitation was disrupted by the snow fall getting heavier. He frowned and turned to pad back into the Lair. I guess I gotta tell someone before the plants freeze over.
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