Mask's Lorehub

–––– Mask's Lorehub –––– Darker content is tagged with #dark lore, and newer posts should have a warning section before the read-more for content within the post. Most images © Flight Rising

[maskfrlore]

Reflections – Lockjaw

[ music ♫ ] I hope ya’ll are ready for some Feels. Takes place sometime after this.

@majestyrising @avalonianrising

Lockjaw sat apart from the others with her back pressed against the rock wall, staring up at the night sky while she hugged her knees to her chest. She could only make out a few stars through the narrow opening in the shallow crevice their group had taken shelter in. All but Carnage had shifted into smaller forms to make the available space feel less cramped while they slept. The Guardian had told them that someone should be ready to fight should they be ambushed. She couldn’t blame him for that. Lockjaw knew the wastes had their hazards. That stubbornness of his didn’t stop Carnage from falling asleep eventually, one wing arched protectively over his companions.

The discovery that one of her other selves – her “children” – had not only survived but prospered had shaken her. It had also left her feeling more at peace with herself. And if one had thrived, finding her own place in the world – her own self– Lockjaw hoped that meant her other children met the same fate.

It also left Lockjaw wondering if the incessant pull of something within her would lead to similar discoveries. The sensation had lessened for now, but the memory of it caused to clutch at her head, thoughts whirling. When had it started? The Pull? Lockjaw wasn’t sure. What she could recall of her wanderings was hazy, incomplete. The time from when she had been alone was the worst of it.

Claw-tipped fingers dug into her flesh, sharp points of pain to center her thoughts. Lockjaw refused to remember what came before. The Pull – focus on that. Her grip loosened and her hands dropped back to her knees.

It had started after Carnage began to follow her, of that Lockjaw was certain. Did it get stronger after Sabine joined them? Yes, that sounded right. The pulling had felt like it had been given a push, a clear direction to go in after that. And while always kind and gentle toward her, Sabine always seemed to know more than she was letting on. Soft whispers in her mind, encouraging Lockjaw to be… more. Lockjaw wasn’t sure why Sabine was there for her. She wasn’t like that toward anyone else in their group. Helpful, yes; loving…

Lockjaw glanced back at where Sabine lay curled up with the others, the corners of her eyes crinkling in happiness as her thoughts settled. Perhaps she would be able to sleep tonight. Lockjaw stood up, careful to not rouse the others while she returned to Sabine’s side. She didn’t notice Sabine’s eyes briefly opening to check on her, slivers of light in the dark before they closed once more.

[mask-fr]

Soul’s Reach

Previously known as the Clanless for their tendency to wander the Scarred Wasteland without calling any one place home, they now stake a claim on a forgotten corner of the wastes – made even more difficult to find thanks to Sabine’s magic. In the midst of an unnaturally flat plain floats the upper half of a tower, its base fractured into several pieces and tethered to stay a nearly constant height above the ground. When viewed from afar, the only openings that can be made out are the windows near its peak, too narrow for most dragons to fit through. Whatever lies beyond the windows is hidden from view… the Vault of Stars is not meant to be seen or entered from the outside. What should have been open rooms and hallways where the tower was broken are sealed, there is no entrance from below. Which begs the question: how does one enter the temple? The answer is simple. One must be summoned.

Here’s the new home for Sabine, Lockjaw, Djehda, Cecylina, and Carnage. Sabine got a little tired of just wandering and wanted to add a little style to everyone’s life, and as usual, was very dramatic about it.

(detail pic is a rough size estimate of the temple compared to an Imperial)

[maskfrlore]

@majestyrising I had so many feels it was hard to respond

The inability to speak was nothing new, but the way her throat tightened with apprehension... that was something Lockjaw had not felt in a very long time. Lockjaw no longer pays attention to the others in the room as something urged her to look behind Koschei. She sways on her feet when Nalvanka comes into view, steadied by Sabine’s gentle grip on her shoulder.

A cruel smirk from her captor, her blood fueling his ritual... Memories from a time Lockjaw wished she could just forget rose to the front of her thoughts. Small pieces of her... not-her, left behind to fend for themselves. Loss. Despair.

Lockjaw reached up with a shaking hand to release herself from Sabine’s hold, who had turned to regard Koschei with a satisfied look as Lockjaw stepped away from her. 

Forms so similar to her own... so small... She had to leave them.

She stared as Nalvanka’s mouth formed a single, silent word, followed by sign. Lockjaw didn’t recognize the movements, but the woman standing before her mirrored her and pulled at her soul, seeking to reconnect to its lost fragment.

When Lockjaw gathered the strength to take the final steps between them, tears ran down her cheeks as she reached out to her daughter, half believing this to be an illusion. A cruel trick reaching out from her past.

Outside the Cathedral and out of sight of any posted guards, rested two mercenaries. They had tracked a small group across the wastelands by order of their leader and had caught up just as the group had gained entrance to the city. Actually catching them didn’t matter at the moment, they only needed to confirm the presence of a particular subject – and confirm it they had.

“What now?” Hema glanced at her superior, “Do we try to follow them in?”

Kynaz shook their head, “Head back to the base and let our leader know the rumor was correct." Chuckling darkly at the mirror, they continued, “I imagine she’ll be very happy to arrange a visit.”

"...I don’t think it’ll be that easy.” She frowned, “It’s probably well defended. The resources alone just to build here–”

“Easy or not won’t matter. Now get moving, or I’ll mention it was your fault we lost the trail.” Kynaz glared down at her until the mirror decided to bolt off in the direction of the base. When Hema finally disappeared on the horizon, they settled down to wait. 

[maskfrlore]

@majestyrising  whoops I forgot to continue, so here’s more of this

Cirys gripped the invitation, glancing between it and their mate, Dhaciri. He’d brought them up to speed regarding the potential alliance and the resulting trip they would need to make. “You want us to go to the Scarred Wasteland without telling anyone, not even to ask advice on what to expect?”

“You’ve spent more than enough time listening to the plagueborn we have to get by. We’ll be fine,” He shrugged. “I doubt we’ll be there long anyway.”

The young imperial sighed, hoping that would be the case. “At least we can scout out supply caches on the way. Maybe a longneck camp. That should keep them off our backs once we return. Nothing settles the mind like the promise of food.”

Dhaciri smirked, “And when you’re hungry it doesn’t matter where it comes from.”

After making some final preparations, the pair headed out.

... Traveling outside the cold domain of the Cloudscrape Crags for the first time, neither were entirely sure what to expect. Lands that were devoid of blizzards felt uncomfortable at best – unnatural at worst. The heat had taken some adjusting to, but it was manageable, especially when using magic to cool the air around them. Cirys had insisted on asking for directions a few times to make sure they didn’t arrive unreasonably late. Each time Dhaciri had been watched with uneasy looks, no-one voicing their reasoning behind it. The ridgeback wasn’t surprised. He knew his parentage made him seem... off. Dangerous. Their stops didn’t last long, and no-one pursued them, so the two didn’t pay it any mind. Better to focus on the task ahead.

When the Cathedral drew near, Cirys directed him to a spot a polite distance away from the gates where they could land, wings tilting as the two descended – shifting to smaller bipedal forms once they touched down. Dhaciri still skeletal in appearance, though not enough to look like a corpse risen from the dead, there was a sharpness to his looks and every movement was precise. His companion was similar but far less unnerving. 

Cirys pulled the invitation from a pocket and took the lead as they approached the gates, “Let’s get these discussions started.”

[maskfrlore]

@majestyrising *finger guns*

Carnage had been about to ask Ilya if they could head in when Koschei stepped forward. Well, shit. Being greeted by the old king wasn’t something he expected. “...Ah. Thank you. Didn’t expect to be remembered, sir. It’s been a while since I left, after all.” The return of the magpie caused him to grimace and glance over to Sabine, “About that... Yeah–”

“I’m so sorry, darling, but I could not resist. His feathers looked so pretty in pink~” Sabine didn’t sound sorry in the least when she interrupted. Her eyes glimmer with anticipation when the Koschei’s attention shifts to Lockjaw. ‘Akna,’ as her guardian had introduced her. It was more amusing to not share her name with the others, especially since Lockjaw herself didn’t care to. Not that she could. The lich’s vocal cords were trashed, no intelligible words could be formed. But her thoughts... oooh, her thoughts were lovely. Especially now that they’d started to form more efficiently. Sabine knew this meeting was going to be fun.

The third member of their group had stayed silent through the introductions, politely nodding when her name came up. She wasn’t rude – except, perhaps, to Carnage when he was being foolish. Djehda stood patiently with her arms crossed in front of her, there was no need to act impatient even if all these niceties were a bit boring. Never a dull moment with Sabine, though, Djehda shook her head slightly, at her friend’s actions.

Lockjaw’s expression, if her impassive face could have one, hardened as she listened to her companions. She’d spent too much time without her "self” to truly express anything, even if she’d been doing better lately. And when Koschei focused on her, she stared back at him, brow furrowing at the faint trace of familiarity around him. Not the skydancer directly, no... something else. Her gaze slipped past the old king to stare with somewhat unfocused eyes into the city. There?

“Of course~” Sabine cheerfully responded, her two right arms making an exaggerated flourish. “Please do lead the way.”

Whatever it was, Lockjaw couldn’t be sure, but she followed willingly behind her so-called guardian when they were ushered through the gates.

That feeling of familiarity was distracting and Lockjaw didn’t hear the question directed at her, not until Sabine laid a hand on her shoulder, with another gesturing toward Koschei.

“He want’s to know who you are, dear one. I would offer to answer for you, but...” Sabine glanced over toward the waiting spymaster, a satisfied smirk twisting her lips, “On second thought, I will after all~”

Lockjaw nodded, her head turning minutely as she tried to get a better idea of where this strange feeling was coming from. Coming closer. It was unnerving and she couldn’t place why.

Sabine steamrolled ahead as she moved to stand directly behind Lockjaw, lower hands gently clasping the shorter ridgeback’s shoulders. “Darling Koschei, allow me to make a correction. This is Lockjaw, not Akna. There never really was an Akna, just an oblivious guardian.” She ignored Carnage sputtering with indignation behind her and continued, “She was subject to something quite awful many years ago, and came away missing pieces of her soul in the process.”

She paused to smile knowingly at Koschei, “A piece, which I believe, has been in this city for a while.”

[maskfrlore]

Responding to this. @majestyrising IT BEGINS

A little over a week had passed since Sabine swiped the invitation from the magpie, and the small group was nearing the end of their trip. It wouldn’t have taken them so long if Djehda hadn’t been the largest among them – or willing to carry three passengers. Lockjaw and Carnage were in a smaller bipedal form, one because of a curse, the other because he managed to irritate Sabine. And Sabine... well, she was fond of these smaller forms, but always managed to sneak in something extra. Her current favorite build included a second set of arms – perfect for difficult castings when you really could use another hand. 

Djehda had stayed in her draconic form for the majority of the trip, for the ease of teasing the smaller than normal guardian with a few wing smacks as she took off to scout. Now that their group was nearly there, Djehda shifted forms to match her companions in stature and appearance.

All in all, the four of them looked like a somewhat ragged bunch of travelers.

Carnage let out a low whistle when the Cathedral came into view on the horizon, slowly growing larger as they approached. “That’s bigger than I remember it. They must’ve been busy expanding since I left.” He squinted, “...Although it also looks kinda different, too. But it’s in the right place to be home.”

One of Sabine’s hands reached over to lightly stroke the toad resting on the guardian’s shoulder, crooning softly to it before she spoke. “You can introduce us, darling.”

He nodded warily before heading to the front of the group, which had settled into silence until they reached the main gates. At this point, Carnage called out to the guards on duty.

“Hello! I dunno if you’ll recognize me on sight or not,” He paused to mutter under his breath as he glanced over to an ever-smiling Sabine before continuing to greet the guards, “My name is Carnage, and my parents are Malice and Spite. This is my charge, Akna, and the other two are Sabine and Djehda. We’re answering an invitation sent out by King Rho.”

[maskfrlore]

A Cold Welcome - part IV

Recap: The group took refuge in the small cave, and discovered it wasn’t as small as they’d originally thought. While not much warmer than the outside, it at least sheltered them from the wind. Meanwhile, higher up the mountain, the lich deposits three things into a hidden cave and seals it before leaving.

Warning(s): mention of death, injury

@majestyrising @deadwapiti-fr @murdoch-fr @airris-fr @clanraire @griminal-rising @avalonianrising @fenixofthedark @hyracia @chaosnebula @ashenbicornwhale @qandais (if I missed a requested ping, please let me know)

Ice had gathered in the cave after the first of the wards wore off, covering the objects in the center with a thick shell and securing them to the ground. Dark forms shifted within, their true shape and color warped by the ice. 

Pale eyes watched as the small form underneath his claws gasped for breath, every exhalation a weak rattle under his weight. That wouldn’t do. The blizzard surged around them as he worked, magic shifting into frost as it made contact.

The breathing stopped... and his new servant opened her eyes.

Time passed and cracks appeared in the icy shell. The first to awaken was a mix of dark and light tones, tiny claws scratching weakly at his prison as pieces began to break away. The egg next to him shifted, its cracks spreading as his brother pushed from inside. Pieces of his egg fell away and revealed colors similar to his mother. The last egg had stopped moving, the ice resilient against its prisoner's efforts.

... When Werda awoke, the first thing she saw was the lich staring impassively at her. The next thing she noticed was the lack of cold – the lack of everything. She shifted, fully expecting pain from her injuries, and there was nothing. The cold? Was she just numb? Werda wasn’t sure.

The lich removed its foot from her body and Werda rose to her feet, limbs stiff and slow as she moved. “What did you do?”

“You...... died.” Its voice rasped above her, “...I brought... you...... back. To serve.”

“To serve you?”

“.......Yes.”

The remaining brothers shrieked as they fought with each other among the remains of their eggs.

Magic churned under her skin as Werda glared up at the lich. This was just like the fey – no, this was because of the fey. She would have been able to fight and win against this monster if she’d been in her true form. If she could not win or escape through force or magic, what could she do?

She could stall for time.

“How many serve you?” Werda squared her shoulders, “Not many, I’d guess, or you would have let me go.”

It growled in response, “...Make...... your..... point.”

“Share some of your magic with me, and I’ll help you create more servants.”

The lich paused as it considered her new offer and Werda grew worried that it wouldn’t accept. That her trick wouldn’t succeed. But then its pale eyes shone, its sharp grin widening.

“...Agreed.”

One brother stood victorious over the other, whose smaller form lay still.

It was then that the last ward activated, skimming across the floor of the cave and up young legs, cold and biting fractals on his skin as it worked to bind his will. The magic glittered despite the dim light, feeding on the magic in his core.

And then suddenly, everything went dark as shadows covered the lich’s magic, smothering it out of existence. From there the shadows on his skin spread out, tendrils reaching for the body beneath him and remaining egg, keeping him still throughout the process.

Wispy forms struggled against the shadows as they were pulled back, making the survivor shriek in pain as they merged with him.

Half-formed, broken thoughts not all his own raced through his head.

Why. Why. WHY.

His body sank to the ground, shaking as the magic coursed through him as it finalized the spell.

But when the pain stopped, his mind cleared. The extra voices didn’t nag as loudly now. And despite the lich’s intentions, he had something else to drive him forward.

His mother.

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[maskfrlore]

A Cold Welcome - part III

Recap: Werda fails to get the lich to agree to her own terms, and instead finds herself under its control. When she returns to the others, Werda omits the most of the truth and guides everyone to a specific nearby cave after claiming that the broken Door won’t let anyone leave this frozen hell.

Warning(s): minor mention of injuries

@majestyrising @deadwapiti-fr @murdoch-fr @airris-fr @clanraire @griminal-rising @avalonianrising @fenixofthedark @hyracia @chaosnebula @ashenbicornwhale (if I missed a requested ping, please let me know)

The discovery of the cavern was a small – but welcome – boon. Its narrow opening didn't allow the snow to get blown too far inside but was still large enough for the group to stand up in while they went in. The entry would have been impossible for the majority of them to fit through had they not been stuck in forms that mirrored the appearance of the fey in one way or another. A small alcove lay on the right as they followed the short tunnel, not big enough to provide comfort, but enough space that it could be used somehow. The space just beyond it, however, was large enough they could set up without getting too crowded. The bone-chilling cold wasn't much better in here, but at least they were out of the wind.

Bramble hovered close to Sarad as the group picked out spaces near the back of the cave to rest, her bright green eyes darted toward every moving shadow in suspicion when Chalco's fire lit the space. When Mote joined her friend in lighting up the cave with her own magic, Bramble caught sight of a small passage on the left side of the cavern.

“I think there's something over there,” She pointed in its direction to help catch the attention of the others, “Maybe another section?”

Little balls of light drifted over to where the fae pointed, Mote joining them a moment later to direct them into the dark hole. She peered through, smiling as she called back, “Bramble's right. There's another space in here, almost as big as where we are now.” Mote pulled her face away and the lights returned. “We'd have to break away some of the rock, though. Or we're not getting in.”

“Some good it does us right now,” Bastion scoffed, “We need to figure out how we're going to get food. Dunno about you lot, but this blizzard probably means we aren't going anywhere anytime soon.” His gaze shifted over to Werda, “Even if we could.”

Silence settled around the group as his meaning sank in. Werda cleared her throat, focusing her attention on the storm outside for any unnatural movement.

“...We just need to hold on a little while. When I noticed the barrier I countered it where I could.” Her hand hovered over the puncture wounds in her skin, magic twisting to bring the flesh back together – and failing. “...It should be ready in a few days...”

Her partner looked at her with narrowed eyes, “What exactly did you do, Werda?”

The ridgeback returned her gaze, deep purple eyes now partially clouded with white from her recent encounter, “I gave us a chance... and I don't regret what happened. Neither should you.”

High above the valley floor and the cave where the group took refuge, the lich paused on a hidden ledge as the storm continued to bury the mountain in snow. Chains rattling as it carefully nudged three small white objects into a small cave. The opening was too small for the lich to follow, but it was easy enough to safeguard the cave against the severe cold with magic, at least for a while. A second set of glyphs filled in the blank spaces around the first, to keep everything contained. The third set spiraled in fractals at the edges, to ensure the binding.

Job finished, the lich continued on its path up the mountain.

Time to watch... Time to wait. 

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[maskfrlore]

A Cold Welcome - part II

Recap: The freed prisoners of the fey have escaped, but their path to freedom accidentally led them to the Southern Icefields. None are experienced with this part of Sornieth and haven’t been able to tell exactly where they are. And while most of the group hurries to create a shelter from the storm, Werda had gone off on her own to counter a hidden threat.

Warning(s): minor gore/violence, implied death

@majestyrising @deadwapiti-fr @murdoch-fr @airris-fr @clanraire @griminal-rising @avalonianrising @fenixofthedark @hyracia @chaosnebula @ashenbicornwhale (if I missed a requested ping, please let me know)

Werda paused when signs of the main group came into view, half-blotted out by the snow being blown about. What could she tell them? She doubted most would agree to what needed to be done, what she had already done. A lie, then. Maybe something tied to the Door... After all, no one had expected the path to exit here of all places. It was entirely plausible for something else to have gone wrong.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt its presence once more, lurking at the edge of her senses. Waiting. Watching.

There was no going back, not now.

While the lich stood impossibly still above her, the storm around them did not. The wind howled and snow had whited out the world. Werda struggled to breathe as the weight of the lich’s foot pressed her deeper into the snow, its claws tearing into her skin as the weight increased. Trapped in this form as she was, it was easy to forget she lacked her full strength. Attempting to fight the creature when it refused her offer had been foolish.

“...Insulting...” The lich growled, “To think... I would just..... let such a prize... walk free.” Fresh blood joined the pool beneath her when its claws dug in, melting some of the snow before it cooled. “I have a...... better... plan.”

“And – ugh... what is that?” Werda coughed as she stared up into the lich’s pale eyes. Spots of white almost lost in the storm and yet she couldn’t look away.

Chains rattled as the lich shifted its weight, “...Your people..... will serve me. In life.........”

Werda gasped for breath, her own magic struggling to retaliate against the pain as she felt several ribs pop. Dark spots swirled before her, black tentacles creeping in from the edges of her vision.

“..........or in death.” 

The storm howled on as the blackness took hold.

A mix of concerned and weary looks greeted Werda’s bloodied form when she entered the small shelter, carefully warmed near the center by Chalco’s magic. The ball of fire flickered dangerously low with every burst of wind that made it past the snow walls.

“Good news,” She grimaced, taking a seat next to Yazva who immediately looked her over. Werda waved off her concern, “I got rid of the immediate threat. Also, there’s a cave nearby we can use. It should be easy enough to block out most of the cold if we fix up the entrance. The bad news...”

Werda’s voice trailed off and she frowned, “I didn’t want to risk traveling too far in the storm, but I made it a fair way before the path was blocked.”

“What do you mean, ‘blocked’?” LeafBlade spoke up from across the shelter, “By the storm?”

“No, by magic.” She shook her head, “Really old and powerful magic... I’m guessing it happened when the Door broke after we made it through. And if it wouldn’t let me go too far in one direction, it’s possible there’s a barrier blocking all other routes. We might be staying wherever we are for a while.”

The fire sputtered as everyone started talking at once, some voices rising in temper not wanting to believe what she said. Werda was about to speak again when Rheic stood up, the sudden movement silencing the others.

“None of that. We’ll head to the cave and secure it. After that when the storm clears, we’ll check into this barrier,” Rheic glanced down at Werda, who kept her mouth shut when she noticed the mirror’s subtle glare, “We escaped the fey once – we can do it again.”

Yazva nodded, gesturing to the others to stand up as well, “Then let’s head out now before this storm gets much worse.” The imperials lips pursed slightly when she noticed Werda rising as slow as some of the others. Her injuries would need to be looked into, but not here in front of the others. Her partner wouldn’t want that anyway.

Werda scoffed lightly when she noticed the look Yazva was giving her. She’d be fine. She didn’t feel the cold anymore, not after that run-in with the lich. And honestly? She didn’t feel much at all now.

Her voice rattled as she sighed, walking to the front of the group to lead the way to the cave the lich had specified. At least the others couldn’t feel its gaze as it circled. Watching... Waiting...

At least no one else had died yet.

Not if she could keep it happy.

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[maskfrlore]

A Cold Welcome - part I

Sometimes plans go astray.

Warnings: none

@majestyrising @deadwapiti-fr @murdoch-fr @airris-fr @clanraire @griminal-rising @avalonianrising @fenixofthedark @hyracia @chaosnebula @ashenbicornwhale

There was no use denying it any longer as the group took in the bleak surroundings, some struggling to regain their breath as their bodies adjusted to the high altitude and drastic change in temperature. Most had started to huddle together for warmth, eying the Door with mixed feelings. Their only way in and out of the fey realm lay shattered in the snow.

They hadn’t escaped their prison, they had only exchanged it for a new one.

Rheic, Yazva, and Werda clustered together near the edge of the group and tried to make sense of what had happened. The Door shouldn’t have sent them here, they were certain. Everything they had learned about the fey portal pointed at the Sornieth exit being somewhere in the Shrieking Wilds. Nothing they had done prepared them for this, especially since most of them were ill-equipped to handle the cold. They had all been forced into a bipedal form during their stay in the fey realm and lacked some of the protections a draconic form provided. On top of that, those whose origins were the Sea or Wasteland left them doubly susceptible to the pervading cold which could only be found on the southern continent. Some of them – most notably Yazva, LeafBlade, and Bastion – sported injuries that occurred during their escape.

A sudden burst of snow flurries prompted Werda to interrupt Rheic’s musings, “First things first, we need to get out of the cold,” She narrowed her eyes at Rheic, sho had opened her mouth to rebuke her. “We can figure out where we are after we’ve warmed up.”

“Agreed,” Yazva nodded once, the edge in her voice silencing Rheic. “Those having the most trouble with the cold can stay here to rest. There should be enough snow to pack together into a windbreak and we can rotate who is stationed at the edges.”

“Assuming, of course, that we won’t freeze before a shelter is found. The storm looks like it’s getting worse.” Rheic pointed out, rubbing her arms in an attempt to regain body heat.

Werda forced down a smirk, knowing it would do little good to antagonize the mirror at this moment. Maybe later, though. “I may have an idea of what to do about that, but I’ll need to leave quickly...” She glanced off away from the group, into the swirling snow. “We may have gained the wrong kind of attention.”

While the rest of the group worked to form a temporary snow shelter near the fragments of the Door, Werda wasted no time in heading off whatever it was she felt lurking at the edge of her senses. In truth, the cold didn’t bother her as badly as the others. Shadows were never meant to be warm; they were something that sucked that warmth away from you. This cold wasn’t much different, although judging by the frost beginning to cover her clothes and skin she would need to hurry. Just because she didn’t mind the cold didn’t mean the others could handle it.

Careful to leave hidden markers through her magic in order to find her way back through the storm, Werda made decent progress until the feeling that something was watching her increased tenfold. Another gust of wind kicked up more snow before it suddenly stopped, snowflakes hanging in the air around her. She glanced around herself warily, cursing as the feeling suddenly vanished.

The soft crunch of footsteps partially masked by snow sounded just behind her, accompanied by a hazy shape in the storm that disappeared when she turned to look.

“I know what you are,” Werda called out to the storm, “and have come with an offering.”

A ragged chuckle drifted through the wind in response, the pitch lowering into a growl near the end. The snow parted in front of her, revealing the towering form of a skeletal ridgeback – or what used to be a ridgeback – it was difficult to tell where flesh and bone stopped and the ice started. This close, the wind and snow barely muffled the clink of broken chains around its body as it stepped closer and began to circle, rattling as it went.

“...Tell......... me.....” The lich stopped walking as it reached her front once more and lowered its head down to her level, far too many teeth on display as it grinned, “I have been...... bored.. hungry...... for so long.”

( next )

[maskfrlore]

@majestyrising in which the creepy boy doesn’t want things to change – too much

Dhaciri watched from his hidden ledge above the valley as a lone magpie flew into sight. When it was closer he could see that it was carrying something, but for what purpose? A sharp whistle caught the bird’s attention and it veered toward him willingly, cawing in response to being sighted. 

He held out an arm for the magpie to perch on, its feathers ruffling as it attempted to warm itself in the chilly air. Dhaciri arched a brow as he untied what looked like a letter of some sort from the birds’ chest, shifting the magpie to his shoulder afterward.

“Making special deliveries, are we?” Dhaciri remarked as he scanned the unsealed letter. Mercenaries could potentially benefit False Haven, but with the majority of the group members trapped in the mountain valley he doubted that this Plague kingdom would retain any interest in them. It would be tricky to sustain an alliance that required them to go there in person, at least currently.

Clawed fingers tapped the parchment in thought.

Werda would certainly try to punish him if he didn’t bring this offer to Rheic and Yazva. They would likely accept an alliance regardless, but seeing as they were included in the ones trapped, any responsibility would fall to him or his partner. Perhaps resources in return for outsourcing a bit of help with that annoying barrier – at least on the surface. Dhaciri was more than willing to let it stay in place if it allowed things to stay the way they were.

With the magpie still clinging to his shoulder, Dhaciri entered a small entryway hidden from sight down in the valley and followed it to a set of rooms. The second of which was cluttered with chests and various trinkets that he’d stolen or scavenged from outside the valley. It didn’t take long to sift through a chest to find enough blank parchment to write a response.

King Rho,

On behalf of False Haven, we accept this invitation to settle on terms and look forward to discussing them in person. Both Cirys and myself will attend.

 Dhaciri

When he was done, Dhaciri carefully folded the letter and tied it to the magpie before heading back out to the ledge to release it. After the bird disappeared from view, he lowered his gaze to the valley below and watched the few people they had left mill about as they worked to construct a better shelter.

Now he’d just have to play this game carefully. What fun.

[maskfrlore]

@majestyrising /waggles eyebrows

It was late into the morning when the group chanced upon a magpie hopping around a missive that slipped out of its claws during flight, desperately trying to find a better grip in order to complete its delivery. Frustrated squawks accompanied it when the note kept falling to the ground during every attempt to take off – cries that quickly turned furious when the letter was picked up by a rather nosy individual.

“Oooh, what have we here?” Sabine turned the item over to get a closer look at the seal that kept the letter closed, half-heartedly waving an arm at the bird to hold it frozen in the air with her magic and very much away from her. Muffled squawks of outrage accompanied her while she opened it, “Mercenaries on demand? Delightful~! Perhaps they can improve your faults, Carnage. Or maybe we can find someone to replace you – that last mirror pack nearly ran off with your charge before I intervened.”

The guardian’s angry retort was cut off by Djehda’s interjection, “We, not you.”

“Ah, of course. Silly me~.” Sabine smiled teasingly at her cohort, “But we could still use a better guardian. Our current one is so pint-sized that all the fun is gone.”

 “Give me that letter,” Carnage growled out, not waiting for Sabine to comply before he grabbed at the parchment. His eyes narrowed when she easily spun out of his reach, giggling at his clumsy attempt.

“If you’re going to be so impatient and ill-mannered, brute, then I won’t give you a say in my response,” She floated the magpie over to hover annoyingly around his head, the squawks increasing in volume as the bird tumbled head over feet through the air.

With that taken care of, Sabine turned her attention to the parchment in her hands. Her magic rolled over it in careful motions, wiping the ink away in preparation for her own writing, which was done in an alarming shade of pink – a happy side effect of using her magic instead of boring old ink. Sabine had been quite pleased with that discovery. When she finished, the letter read simply:

We would be delighted to meet for terms, darling. After all, isn’t that what family is for?

It was then carefully folded into a smaller shape and attached to the magpie, which landed a few pecks before flying back the way it came, angry caws and all.

Carnage scowled at Sabine, “And where, exactly is that going?”

“Hopefully in the right direction, it’s hard to tell with magpies. I’d feel more assured if it was a raven, but they can be rather snarky… hmm. Best clean up – wouldn’t want to embarrass any family, would you? We’re going to pay the Kingdom of Thanatos a visit~!”

[mask-fr]

[maskfrlore]

mask-fr:

mask-fr:

Captives of the Fey → False Haven Either charmed or taken prisoner in battle, these dragons have had limited exposure to Sornieth’s magic for several years. Some of the more resisting toward fey ideals sport the most bodily changes, as such resistance must be stomped out of existence.

Rheic – Due to her years lurking in underground pools saturated with Plague magic, she’s become more power-driven with a “survive at any cost” mentality. Water is not a soft thing in her hands; it is a hammer and she will beat you with it. Mate of Tethys.

Tethys – Soft spoken and distant, she prefers to focus her attention on being helpful through gathering resources. If there is a large enough body of water around, it’s rare that she will want to leave it, as she finds comfort in the current. Mate of Rheic.

Typhos – Heir of Rheic. Presentation is everything and he hates it. Often feels as if he’s waiting on a false prophecy, but holds his breath just in case. Adapted the best from the exposure to fey magic, and his own has grown wilder.

Yazva – Callous both on and off the field, she’s not one to give second chances unless she’s absolutely convinced it’s deserved. It’s bad enough when you gain her ire from the front, but it’s worse when she and Werda tag team. Mate of Werda.

Werda – A force to be reckoned with if she ever decides she doesn’t like someone, and always willing to give someone a smackdown via “training session”. Adapted very well to fey magic, which amplified the connection to her own element. Mate of Yazva.

Minim – Performing song and dance is his passion, and if faced with a fight he’d be the first to run and not even be sorry to admit it. Still oblivious to the boost his inherited magical skills give his tales. Cousin of Yazva.

LeafBlade – A swordsman who’s long been on the run. Not that he let’s it stop him from swinging his blade where it needs to go, even if another tactical retreat must be made…

Sarad – Unsure of her own beginnings except that they were filled with blood, she tills the earth to keep the incessant “what if’s” at bay and takes refuge in her garden. No matter what happens outside, or to anyone else, her plants are now the only things that can be relied on.

Bastion – Not willing to let the innocent suffer, he took the torture meant for a captive party of previous clanmates, even though it did little good in the long run. He might have been a warrior once, but that life is behind him.

Bramble –  It’s easy to forget she’s even around and she likes it that way. Watching others is so much easier when no one is looking, after all. Her time spent captive has left her very mistrusting of others, especially of those that smile just a little too widely.

(Mostly trying to see where things are at as I work on ending the Court of Eyes FR lore, to see if it’s worth building up new lore from these guys. I’m toying with the idea that Rheic and Yazva as potential leaders. Also, that would mean two wlw pairs in charge. But where in Sorneith to put them…? Because busting out of the fey realm could go very badly, considering how the official Door has been closed off.)

Found my starter. Rheic’s gonna have fun. Just gotta work on pulling the rest of it together now.

[mask-fr]

Koss’m and Brev’m; masked spirits that only partially remember who they used to be. They lurk deep within the Hewn City and will seek out anyone foolish enough to come into their territory, hoping to gain a glimpse of who they were. It always ends poorly, since they cannot gain a part of their past from someone who never knew them…

[maskfrlore]

Broken Doors - pt. II

Recap: A fey merchant and her partner have teamed up with a member of the Court since they can’t get back into the Realm. Sly words and deft hands grant them something the fey rarely get their hands on: a dragon’s pearl.

Warnings: none

@majestyrising, @avalonianrising, @grimdragons, @unkorea, @kattafr, @magmavent, @vodkarising, @froststrix-fr

“It’d be a quick run,” the lanky not-quite-ridgeback grinned as he played with his stolen pearl, his own magic coiling around it lazily.

Vhekad strangled the aging leather strap of her pack in frustration, watching as Daryc’s magic started boring a hole into his new toy. If she had to spend one more week with that overgrown catastrophe of an unofficial prince, she swore she was going to kill him. It’s a miracle he hadn’t gotten them killed yet.

When Daryc had discovered her and Kīpuka on one of their trade runs, she’d been less than pleased. He’d never been a spoiled prince in the Court from what she remembered, there was something lurking at the back of her mind about the Queen... And then he’d brought news that the Door had closed – that they were trapped on the wrong side. If that hadn’t been bad enough, Daryc’s knack for causing trouble had all but destroyed her trade routes along the northern edge of the Tangled Wood – one of her favorite places to barter for clay – all because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

It had taken them several weeks to lose their pursuers and they’d had several close calls before they’d crossed into the Sunbeam Ruins. One of which had involved actually fighting... and only barely managed to escape, even if it had been thanks to Daryc’s somewhat uncontrollable magic that helped them in the end. Vhekad shivered, fighting was not something she was comfortable with and she’d been useless in the battle except to throw pot sherds as distractions. 

Eventually, they had found an alcove of broken marble to rest in and let their eyes finish adjusting to the unescapable glare of the sun. Their rations were down to whatever they could find as they passed through the land, and now that they were out of the woods and in the plains it was unfamiliar territory for everyone. Still, Vhekad had them all carry their empty packs just in case.

And now – now – Daryc wanted to take a detour, all because he’d caught wind of some rumor of magical relics from a passing snake of all things, which just stank of foul magic, and Vhekad didn’t like it one bit.

“Absolutely not. No more schemes, princeling,” she shook her head. “We don’t have any supplies left thanks to your last stunt, I don’t have anything to trade for any supplies, and we still need to find a way home.”

“And home is far from here, in the Labyrinth...” interjected the soft voice of Kīpuka, something unexpected for her fiercer appearance. “The Queen–”

“That old bird can rot in her nest as far as I care. Which isn’t a lot, y’know.” Daryc snorted back.

“How can you say such things? You’re her grandson! Her only grandchild...”

“And as she keeps reminding me, her ‘half-blooded bastard’ as well, so I don’t think she likes me much, eh? Still, I think she’s just a bit moody because of my uncle Adenn. Rumor has it he’s been trying to kill his siblings off. At the very least he managed to get some of them banished.” He leaned against the cracked marble and tensed as he felt it shift behind him. Ruins never did make great rest stops for weary travelers. Daryc paused as he felt his magic start to twist inside the pearl and hollow it out before he turned his gaze back to them. “So I have an idea, a uh, proposition for the both of you.”

Since Vhekad still looked about to launch into another argument, Kīpuka spoke up before she could. “Yes...?”

“What would you say if you never had to go back? If you could find a new haven, safe from the big bad world filled with all these monstrous dragons?” Daryc could tell that he’d even caught Vhekad’s attention with that, loyal Courtist as she could be. “With the Door broken we can’t go home. I don’t care, but you do. Mainly for a safe place, right? It’s one thing to visit, but you don’t like being out here all the time like I do?”

Once two heads reluctantly nodded, so he continued.

“Those relics I mentioned? They’re a key. But we can’t get to it unless we go as a Court, and we can’t go as a Court unless you renounce granny dearest and side with me. It’s a fickle relic that way, unfortunately.” His magic finished coring out the pearl and made a small pop as it fizzled out. Daryc glanced down at it and made a pleased noise. “Do I have your allegiance?”

Kīpuka and Vhekad eyed each other, not quite sure what to make of the offer, especially with all of the hidden ties that came attached with it, but one gave a slight nod to the other. “We’ll pledge to your Court temporarily... unless you prove your worth.”

Daryc didn’t look all that impressed with their answer, but accepted it. He felt his core shift with their words. “Fix this pearl up with a harness then. We’re going to need a lantern soon...” He tossed Vhekad the hollowed out pearl, a manic grin sliding into place. “There’s a lot of darkness ahead.”

( prev )

[maskfrlore]

Broken Doors - pt. I

Recap: A stranded child is found by the king at the borders of the Realm. Not long after, the Door to the Realm has collapsed for unknown reasons, leaving multiple fey stranded in Sornieth, with many more trapped within their own home...

Warnings: none

@majestyrising, @avalonianrising, @grimdragons, @unkorea, @kattafr, @magmavent, @vodkarising, @froststrix-fr

To the average dragon there was nothing wrong with their little group. Sure, the ridgeback was a bit on the scrawny side for such a massive fellow, but his overall proportions were correct, if one cared about those things. Maybe the wildclaw had more feathers than should be there – but she did have deep green eyes that screamed Nature, so one could expect a bit more of the old blood to show up. And the guardian... Well, she was a bit unnerving for all of her small stature, even if it was difficult to place why. But if one paid close attention the ridgeback made almost no noise when he moved, the wildclaw didn’t seem to be encumbered by her wares, and the guardian wasn’t all that frightening at all. If anything, she seemed a bit nervous about the rising temper of her usually patient partner...

The past year had been hard enough, cut off from the realm as it was, Vhekad had been unable to resupply as easily as she had before. Usually mingling with dragons wasn’t so bad when it was short-term, but this... This had been going on long enough that they’d manage to get odd looks at the next town on their way in. There had been no time to give the towns time to think they were just a little odd, nothing too alarming, but now the stares were more calculating and Vhekad didn’t like that.

They had made it as far as the eastern edge of the Tangled Wood before their luck ran out. Truth be told, it probably could have been much worse.

Vhekad had been speaking to Kīpuka about their route when an angry shriek ripped through the market stalls, accompanied by the pounding of feet as a pearlcatcher searched the area. His arms were full of pottery; very familiar looking broken pottery.

Biting back a curse, she fumbled at the remaining packs her partner carried and spoke just a moment before the pearlcatcher caught up with them. “We need to go–”

“I demand a refund! What kind of business do you think you’re running?!” For such a normally serene-looking breed, he certainly wasn’t doing them any credit.

Daryc took this moment to return from lunch, towering over the irate customer in a way that made Vhekad want to punch him, “Those jars looked fine when you bought them. Must’ve broke them on your own time and tried to scam us for it.”

“An outrageous accusation!” By now the marketplace was growing quiet, passing dragons eying the scene before them.

“Are you supposed to be that color? I’m not familiar with dragons–” Vhekad didn’t care anymore, she interrupted Daryc with a swat to the arm. He shifted gears quickly, “–er, pearlies, that is to say. It looks unhealthy. And an unhealthy dragon shouldn’t be carrying things, heavy things liked baked clay and whatsits. Tell you what, we’ll trade those broken bits for some whole bits and even toss in some shiny bits for your trouble.” While he was talking he was carefully shuffling around replacement jars into the pearlcatcher’s arms and taking the broken pieces.

The trio was just about to leave when the pearlcatcher spoke up, “What about the shiny bits?”

Kīpuka and Vhekad frowned as Daryc patted down one of his bags before tossing back a small purse with a grin. “There you go, friend.”

When they were out of sight of the town Kīpuka eyed Daryc as they walked. “What was all that about? Not to sound rude or anything, but you don't have friends.”

Daryc laughed, “Oh that? He was annoying. And rather stupid if he thought he could pull a heist out from under my own nose. Speaking of which–” He reached over to Vhekad’s pack and, with a flourish, pulled the pearlcatcher’s pearl from it. “I liked his shiny bit, so it’s mine now.”

“...We’re dead. If we go back there, you realize that don’t you?” Vhekad stared at the pearl in growing dread. “They’re going to know we took it.”

“Naaaaah. Besides, we don’t need to go back there anyway. It wasn’t that great.” Daryc shrugged and played around with the pearl, completely ignoring the change in mood.

“Daryc, we have to take it back. We won’t be able to trade for supplies anywhere near here if we don’t. That was a major trade station.” Vhekad stumbled as she jogged to keep up with his longer strides and Kīpuka’s.

“No. And before you get about as irritating as that pearlie did, I’m going to make it an order – so leave it be. I’m keeping this pearl, don’t be a mood killer.”

Vhekad felt her magic twist sharply, painfully. There was nothing more to be said. No matter how diluted his ties were, Daryc was still a high ranking member of the Court. She shared a worried glance with Kīpuka before eying the path behind them. Hopefully keeping the pearl wouldn’t lead to too much trouble.

( next )

[maskfrlore]

An interlude to Sinter-forged lore, sometime after they settle Haze Peak, but before too many others have joined them. Zaria still wants little to do with others.

Every breath felt like it was on fire, a sensation all-too familiar these days to the Tundra. The Ashfall Waste is no place for him, especially being Iceborn. And yet here he was, following memories – ancient, unreliable things – and where did it land him? Luckystone isn’t quite sure. There was a fierce Guardian who begrudgingly allowed him to stay the night, after her companions spent several hours trying to convince her. It ended in a duel between them – winner take all. She had the advantage, why wouldn’t she pick that? Perhaps it was the clash of her magic against his, he wasn’t sure, but it led to several things...

Pain... In his efforts to beat Zaria with his disadvantage of Ice versus Fire, Luckystone nearly depleted his core. The backlash of his magic trying to adjust to the drain, and to the environment, led to a shift in form. While Zaria did call off the duel – technicalities, she said – his near death hit a little too close to home, and she allowed him to stay and recover, before disappearing for a while...

...Zaria later returned with three hatchlings, who looked an awful lot like Luckystone. However, she wanted nothing to do with them – her current goals would not allow her to watch over them well enough. So she packed up supplies and sent the newly changed Pearlcatcher and their children on their way. Her actions baffled Luckystone, but he does know what it’s like to get lost in memories... Perhaps these children will help...

( @majestyrising ...I stg I’m so tempted to just set him up as his own sub-clan with his new kids, instead of just adding them to a clan I already have like a normal person )