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Let there be Dragons!

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((For me Ravencloudcat, Ravenwolf1010, and Sugar Free))


Deep in most covered mountains of a magical world lives the dragons. These dragons are in various sizes and shapes.

Here the dragons can breed with the humans/ elves, but transforming to a human themes takes massive amounts of magic and leaves them vulnerable. These Dragon born children are rare. They have features of their parents some more draconic then others.


Dragons had recently retreated into the high mountain peaks and the maze of caves, caverns, and mines for the mountain's vast wealth, and the humans hunting them and their vulnerable offspring. They have remained secluded for many years. The question now is: is it safe to venture outside of the tunnels that make up their home?



1) Please don't make your Dragon so huge it dwarfs everyone else's. Average female is the size of a small two story house, males possibly three story depending on breed.

2) no over powering dragons

3) Dragon born must have wings and a tail (or if eastern Dragon antlers and tail of eastern)

4) Animal dragons welcome! (Wolf Dragon, leopard Dragon etc)

5) please try to be descriptive in sheets!

6) others may lurk but don't post. You will be reported!

7) please don't take my plot.



Approx age: (under 20 years is considered a hatchling)
Size: (no feet or meters, confusing, compare with objects or animals)
Power: (flight is a given unless they are made to be flightless)
Personality: (a couple words would be nice)
Mate: (they mate for life usually)
History: (optional)


My characters:

Name: Jasmine Jaspera

Gender: female

Breed: eastern/western cross tiger Dragon

Approx age: almost fifty

Size: medium length of two school buses, she has short stubby legs, her belly fur often dragging on the ground. From ground to shoulder she's about the same size of a compact car.

Power: she has a habit of lighting her back fur and tail tuft ablaze when she's mad. She's very agile, swift and can shoot flames three times the length of her body.

Personality: Jasmine is often aggressive, bossy and snapish. She's usually irritated from her lack of attractive features wanting a cub badly. She's very sweet around the nursery and helps other mothers deliver their clutch of eggs.

Mate: none

Crush: no

Hatchlings: desperately wants

History: she has nasty scars on the other side of her body from humans attacking her. She believes these marks ruin her chance at a mate. These scars where made by iron weapons laced with deadly nightshade that burned her skin. Some dragons are immune to nightshade but combined with certain herbs it can cause burn like scars on the body. They stretch from shoulder to flank and criss cross each other on her arm and leg. She has several scars on her neck from being torn at by grappling hooks to hold her head down.

Looks: Jasmine


Name: Adam Hiess

Gender: male

Breed: Dragon born (western)

Approx age: nerve mid twenties

Size: slightly taller than a normal doorway on a human house.

Power: his claws get white hot and can slice through rock. Very skilled at climbing, acrobatic, very fast, flightless. Sometimes when he sneezes a small flame comes out but mostly it's smoke he breathes. Fire resistant

Personality: Adam can be very aware about his surroundings. He's adventurous, boundless in energy but can also be very calm, kind, soft spoken and pensive. He hates meat. He gets it from his mother.

Mate: no

Crush: .....

Hatchlings: no children.

History: his mother was an elf maiden who wandered into the mountains. His father a Ancient, fell for her and turned human. His father refuses to see anyone but his family fearing a Dragon would burn him for his place on the Council. His father is one of seven elders who lead the dragons. Adam's aunt is standing in for his father.

Looks: Adam Hiess


Name: Azure Hiess

Gender: female

Breed: feathered western

Approx age: 397 years old.

Size: Azure is larger than her brother. She stands at six and a half stories tall, her brother is about four and a half. She's as long as two and a half city busses from nose to tail.

Power: She has "cold fire" a deep laptiz colored flame that freezes anything it touches. She can also swim and breathe under water.

Personality: Azure is the wise one. Slow to anger, hardly surprised, the careful planer. You have a problem? She's the Dragon you usually see. Methodical. She hoards books, scrolls, alchemy texts and equipment and some arts (statues and paintings).

Mate: none


Hatchlings: does Adam count?

History: She is a younger sister to an Ancient (800+ live up to 1,300 give or take a hundred years) And an aunt to Adam. She has looked after her nephew for most of his life and became a mother/mentor / teacher to him. She's very close with her nephew



Name: Lucifer

Gender: Male

Breed: fox Dragon

Approx age: around fifty

Size: He is really small. No larger then a Akita mastiff or another large breed of dog like a Newfoundland dog.

Power: growing plants. His breath can speed growth of moss, flowers, vines and trees.

Personality: playful, energetic, loves doing tricks in the air and tending his garden. He normally flies around the other dragons feet and plays harmless pranks on them.

Mate: no



History: doesn't say much about it.

Looks: Lucifer


Name: Sola Zeroth

Gender: female

Breed: Dragon born

Approx age: 34

Size: she's around five feet seven inches

Type: feathered western

Power: healing, purifying water and toxins.

Personality: she's kind and caring loving and tender. Soft spoken and sweet. Avoids fighting or any confrontation involving violence

Mate: none

Crush: ---

Hatchlings: no

History: she doesn't like to say much. Just her mother was a dragon and her father abandoned her when she was born blind. Her mother a healer was burned for witchcraft. She lives at the base of the mountains, well, the foothills leading up to them in a system of tunnels by the woods.

Looks: sola has snowy white wings flecked with grey, a long white tail covered in midnight black fur like her hair and a white feathered fan at the end of her tail. Her horns are white skin fair.


Raven Cloudcat's


Name: Onyx

Gender: Female

Breed: Shadow Dragon (This is what type she usually is. If it's not a breed in this I'll change it.)

Approx age: 197

Size: A little smaller than a two story house. She's smaller than most female dragons.

Power: Shadow Jumping

Personality: Sarcastic, sassy, aggressive towards most dragons, nervous, jumpy, loyal

Mate: N/A

Crush: N/A

Hatchlings: N/A

Looks: Like this, but instead of her belly being that color it's gray, her other scales are all black, and the sypikes on her neck, back, and tail, are more triangular.


Raven wolf 1010

Name: Ruvaak (Raven)

Gender: Female

Breed: Wolf Dragon

Approx age: 520 years

Size: As large as a Chevy Tahoe

Power: Weather manipulation (often reflected in her emotions)

Personality: Ruva is a fairly solitary dragon. She doesn't appreciate company, and is pretty rough around the edges. Once she warms up to someone though, they see a whole other much softer side to her. The only time she is always friendly is if it's a fairly young dragon which she will then take under her wing.

Mate: N/A

Crush: N/A

Hatchlings: N/A

History: As a hatchling, Ruva was separated from her mother in a storm. Little did she know, her mother had purposely conjured the storm to protect Ruva as she fought off a group of humans trying to kill her. Ruva later that night discovered her gravely injured mother, who gave her an amulet before dying. Since then, she's been on her own.

Looks: Here, but she's black furred.


Sugar Free


Name: Brarrimund Dharukh

Gender: Male

Breed: Black/Royal Eastern Hybrid

Approx age: 63

Size: Shoulder reaches up to around the size of a typical doorframe.

Power: Very minor control over fire and water, but can breathe neither. Immensely physically powerful, especially with his whip-like tail. Fantastic at making medicines.

Personality: Brarrimund is a kind-hearted, soft-spoken individual. He spends his time taking care of abandoned or wilting flowers that are dropped into his care, and has a fascination with horticulture and pharmacy in general. He volunteers part-time as a daycare assistant, watching over newborn dragons/dragonborn and teaching the young about the Ancients and the world outside, and works to help stave off illness with his medicinal knowledge.

Mate: N/A

Crush: Possible.

Hatchlings: Desired.

History: Born to a Black dragon father and an amethyst Royal Eastern mother, Brarrimund is one of the few crossbred dragons to be accounted for. The trade-off for his mixed lineage is compromised muscle and bone structure; while he is strong enough to rip through most metals and rock, he is unusually frail and prone to injury and illness. For this reason, he typically strays from any sort of confrontation.


His father, Kervasht Dharukh, has long since been missing. He once ruled over all of the Black dragon species as a sort of king, but after his affair with Brarrimund's mother (who's name had been erased from all records), he and his other three sons (Rigel, Neleras, and Kvasir; with Brarrimund as the youngest) vanished. Despite the apparent sins of the father, Brarrimund was allowed to retreat with the other dragons to the cave, where he now resides.


Link Here


Brarrimund's primary scale color is iridescent black. His scutes and spines are silver, and the scales running atop his hands/legs are white. The membrane of his wings is a grey color tinted with just a hint of blue. His horns are white and his eyes are silver. The tuft on his tali is pitch black.



Name: Imil

Gender: Male

Breed: Dragon-born

Approx age: Around 23-25

Size: Doorframe height.

Power: Empathetic manipulation. Also seems to display some form of ice power.

Personality: Imil is strange and foreign, hard to describe even by dragon standards. The best way to describe his demeanor and carriage is "alluring", with how he speaks in lulling tones and in an inviting, yet non-disclosing manner. This is further denoted by his preference for tight clothing with flowing sleeves, catching the eyes of anyone who sees him with vivid colors and silky fabrics, and his lovely singing voice and skill in dancing. He finds pleasure commingling with every dragon and kin around him, and is easygoing even in tense situations. Even so, as welcoming and occasionally sensual as Imil is, he doesn't let a single person get close; when it comes to romance, Imil is typically regarded as arrogant and choosy. He has yet to gain a mate of any sort.

Mate: N/A

Crush: ~

Hatchlings: None.

History: No one knows exactly where Imil came from, nor who sired him. There are no remaining references to him or his parents, which has lead some to believe that they never existed in the first place. Imil was retrieved from the ownership of a human during a raid, and has lived within the cave ever since. It has been a long-held belief between dragons that he may have suffered through some unsavory "employment" during his life, but Imil doesn't say, seemingly unaffected by whatever has transpired (if it even did). He is pensive about questions regarding his lineage.

Looks: Imil-Looks


Link Here


His clothing is all black, save for the drapes hanging from his arms. They gradiate from black to dark blue to orange, resembling falling twilight. His hair is raven-colored and his horns are a pearl white. Imil's eyes are orange.




Name: theirn casimir




Breed:half dragon


Approx age: 35


Size:a little smaller than a door frame but slightly bigger than your average human, only by a little though.


Powers:has a little control over air and water, has the ability to rapid grow plants, although he rarely does so.


Personality: a little shy and caring he likes to stand back and watch more than interact unless he Deems otherwise.


Mate: none, but hasnt really had the chance to get to know anyone else.




Hatchlings: none


History: 30 years ago when the humans and dragons separated his father and mother left to the south because they where to far to the south to make it safely caves in the north. 5 years down the road and he was living by himself as his father had gone missing and his mother had died of a broken heart. Now he has been driven from the forest he as called home. Now he is trying to make it in one peice to the caves up north.


Looks: their has creme colored hair that the back falls to his shoulders and the bangs goes to his chest. His skin is a light tan from spending a in the sun. He has a feminine statue so he has been taken for a women before. He has wing that are like those of a bat but instead has feathers that are a light green at the top that that overshadow light beige and green scales. Before that is replaced by the leather of the bat wing. Where the wings connect to the shoulder blades it is covered in soft fur that meets in the middle and travels down his back in a thin trail and ends at the base of his tail. His tail is long and whip like with long light green feathers and long light blue hair. On top of his head sits the start a small set of antlers about the size of a bottle of beer( it was the only good reference I had at the time).

Edited by AroaraAngelwolf

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Jasmine was in her usual spot in the nursery turning the eggs carefully so that they harden evenly, before turning to the other eggs, blowing a thin tongue of flame across the rocks they sat on to keep them warm. She went to each of the clutches next to sleeping mothers who where tired of taking care of their half dozen eggs then moving around the mountain top to find enough sheep and goats for their bellies and hatchlings. With a tender claw she lifted a one day old dragoness back onto the pile of her brothers and sisters.


She lifted her head to look around the nursery for any little ones hiding and not asleep like they are supposed to. She enjoyed the night duty. It was quite and the would be mothers wouldn't wrap their tails around their clutch, staring at her scars like she was a monster.






Lucifer snickered as he scampered down the long tunnels to Brarrimund's cave. Once there he inserted his bit of vine into the stone and breathed on it. It burst to life and grew covering the doorway with vines quickly. He hid to see his reaction.




Adam and Azure where in her cave. He was helping his aunt reorganize her extensive collection of books and scrolls, prioritizing them by usefulness rather than author. "No, no, The illiad goes over with Hróa þáttr heimska , the Tale of Roi the Fool that's it. And this on herbs go there. Oh! A list of arts! That goes there..." She instructed as she lay near a pile of books and scrolls and a few stone tablets or ones made of gold. Adam ran around and jumped up to place some of the written works on the highest shelves, others more used on the lower ones.

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Onyx was deep in a cave, where there were no other dragons. She tended to avoid others. She had been wandering in the cave for a while, when she realized she didn't know how to get out. Onyx turned around, but all the tunnels looking the same.

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Shadows flickered against the wall, tracing the outline of a serpentine body leaned over a comparatively low-set table. In one hand, a mortar; the other, a pestle. The sound of rough scraping against a moist substance echoed about the reasonably-sized cavern. It stopped after a gentle tink against the bowl, and the mortar leaned forward to have its contents examined. The serpent sighed, setting his tools down on his bench, and went to the other side of his cave. Glass and metal clinked as the figure rummaged through a nearby trunk.


Brarrimund was tired, but he would continue to deny himself the rest his desperately needed. This was a problem, as his cough had grown more ragged, more painful and harder to quell, but an outbreak of mold-cough had arisen, and the infection was quick to spread and quicker to dispatch a defenseless hatchling. His findings had brought him a solution: Ert’s root, featherfern, and quinnberry seeds, but at a cost—it caused dehydration when consumed, which, while relatively easier to combat than the sickness itself, was just as fatal if a hatchling wouldn’t take water. So, here he was again, late into his studies, fingering through a chest full of herbs, waters and berries from across the old world, pouring through every available text as he attempted a way to combat this detriment.


After several minutes of jumbling through vials, he picked at one with a smudged label. There was a liquid, a thick blue, suspended inside. He accentuated his choice with an exclamation of excitement, and brought it to his table with a smooth bound. A dollop on his nail was added to the tan-green concoction, and he went about working it into the growing paste.


Though thoroughly buried in the task he’d set for himself, he could hear a creeping sound coming from the entrance of his cave. At first, he thought to ignore it, but the squeaking snaps of what could only be described as vines drew his attention. He laid down the mortar and pestle again, weaving around to grab his lantern from the mantle.


What he saw was...ridiculous. A thicket of, yes, indeed, vines absolutely covered the hole leading down further into the caverns. He gave it a press—stout and with little give—and sighed in feigned exasperation. The tiny sounds of chuckling from outside were enough for Brarrimund to connect the dots.


“Lucifer, this is very unkind of you. Very unkind. And rude!” He stood on his hind legs and gave a slash to the barrier, shredding it till it fell in a curtain in front of him. He put on his best “humorless” face, as if to trick the little dragon into thinking he was about to berate him. And he would, if only a bit.


“Look at this mess...I demand an apology for such a needless inconvenience!” He looked around, seeing no sign of the one he named for this crime, but he knew well enough. Not even Brarrimund, a lover of nature, could produce such foliage from nowhere like Lucifer could. But maybe that's why he found him so charming, no matter how much of a nuisance he could be.

“I know you’re here, Luce. Reveal yourself, and I won’t be nearly as inclined to try my remedies on you.”

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((Double post because I forgot to put it in the previous post.))


Wide. Expansive. Uncluttered and cool.


As impersonal as the caves were, and had always been and surely always would be, Imil found a sort of comfort inside of them. The way his sandals clicked against the stone, scraping pebbles into little rivulets running this and that way, echoing...it was pleasant. The sheer size of them, and the airy quietness they held, was something he greatly appreciated. Too often, he found himself in the vast halls, more well acquainted with the gaping structures then his own room. Not like his own room held any of his personality; most everything he owned remained in chests, away from display. He didn’t like putting his personal belongings out for everyone to see, to bare them to just any eyes passing over them, especially the more expensive collectables he had picked up over time. What if someone were to lust for them, and deem them their own? What if, he often worried, someone were to see “them”...and take “them” from him...


He pulled his hand away from his collar, from where his fingers had found a loose thread in the leather. Perhaps, he thought, the perfect faceless walls, devoid of any personality were somehow...liberating.


Imil channeled that restlessness into a strum across his harp, a lovely golden instrument inlaid with sea-green jade. The frame was lightly tarnished, well loved even before his hands beheld it, but still so lovely. He drew his fingers across the strings, letting the tips catch them on occasion until a melody came to him. Something warm, like a summer night. Something vivid, like the taste of cinnamon alcohol burning his tongue.


A light flurry of notes vibrated from the instrument as his fingers fled back and forth the strings. Those sweet notes, amorous and sad all the same, fluttered and padded down the empty cave before him, and he closed his eyes, blocking out unnecessary stimulus. For this he needed no sight. In song, he could find his way.


Though he would’ve liked to stay in this trance, caught between deprivation and stimulation deep within his own mind and heart, he could not. There was a presence not too far away, and it felt confused, lost. He was no wise man, not at all, and he wouldn’t be caught saying so, but perhaps he could give this soul some guidance. He just hoped they didn’t wish to guide him in turn.


Imil introduced his arrival with a quick strum, low and inviting, and straightened back his shoulders in perfect posture. Holding his wrist in one hand, arms lax and unconcerned, he spoke to the dragon—and it was obviously a dragon, yes. Did he recognize her?


“Why...hello there, miss.” He tilted his head with a soft smile, a terrible habit he couldn’t break. “You look upset, and I can’t simply leave you to your own devices...so...bothered like you are.”


He silently cursed. But he couldn’t unsay it.


“Let me assist you with anything that troubles you. It would be an honor.”



(Edit 'cause I realized he addressed the wrong dragon. Meant to speak to Onyx, but indicated Ruvaak ; w; )

Edited by Sugar-Free

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"Oi! What did I say 'bout calling me Lucie?" the small fox Dragon darted out of his hiding place and stopped in front of him, sitting on his hind legs like a weasel. His tail was wagging though displaying his glee at his trick being effective in the annoying department, ...not so much on the subtlety though. "And be careful mate! These are Heart's glow vines. You'll damage them! You said to me you need something to ease the dryness and the cough. These pretties are mostly water, like a cave grown cacti. You collect the sap that makes the flowers blue. ...... looks like ya already got some though.." He said pointing a claw at the vile. He started pushing the vines over to the side of his cave. Using his tail he swept up the entrance. "Well I'd love to stay and chat but-"


"MOVE!" came a roar and then a burst of flame shot passed his doorway. Lucifer yelps and darted in to the cave, his tail singed and smoking. He hid under the work bench as Jasmine landed, cradling a limp wheezing hatching on one foreclaw and another curled in her tail, her opalescent colored eyes wide with panic. "Brarrimund! One of Dehersha's clutch died of the mold-cough two hours ago, and these two are struggling to breathe. Please do something!" she breathed out in nearly one breath, whisps of smoke curled from her flaring nostrils. As she sat on her hunches she held her tail and wings close to her. She treated every hatchling like her very own and had cried many times at each one that passed away under her watch.

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Ruvaak rolled over sleepily as light just began to reach her in her deep den. With a yawn she rose slowly to her feet and stretched, hearing a series of satisfying cracks and pops from her joints. Satisfied, she lumbered to the mouth of her den and basked in the sun's light. Her home wasn't as elaborate as others she'd seen. Maybe it was because she was more lupine than reptilian. Or maybe it was just poor choosing in habitation. Either way she didn't care. It was tucked away from others and that was how she liked it. With her dark fur now warmed, she stretched her wings. The sun on the flaps of dark, leathery skin between each of her wing bones felt heavenly. Nothing like a good sunny day.

Flight first thing in the morning was both great and awful. For one, it was a great wake up call. However, it was rough trying to get the blood flowing into her wings and therefore strong enough to take flight. Once in the air however, it was fantastic. With a bit of a running start, Ruva was airborne and in search of some water to quench her thirst.

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*Onyx looked at the dragon born. She didn't think she had ever seen him. He looked suspicious. Trying to hide that she was nervous, Onyx glared at him.* "I don't need help."

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The panic on Jasmine’s face was striking. He was unused to such a display of helplessness from her, someone who was usually so strong and commanding. His stomach sank and his head buzzed with a burst of adrenaline, the weight of the situation bearing on him. Brarrimund’s eyes flicked around the room quickly as he thought, landing on the Heart’s Glow vines. He grabbed at an armful and packed them inside, sending a silent thanks to Lucifer for his timely prank and looking back and motioning for Jasmine. The pain in her eyes was unbearable for him to witness,coaxing forth a tightness in his throat.


“Quickly, into the Thermal Room. I’ll meet you there.”


He deftly arranged the vines on the table, giving them a quick slice to cut them into more manageable pieces. Brarrimund gathered up the mortar and scraped its contents into a cup, then went to work mixing another batch with these new, fresh ingredients. Usually, he would test his medicines on himself before attempting to administer them to a patient, but now...now, time was against him. He would have to hope his research was sound.


Once he finished the new batch, adding it the cup as well, he hurriedly bound toward the Thermal Room. When he entered, he was greeted by a warm orange light, reminiscent of sunlight—an entirely arcane fabrication. The air was warm and dry, the walls washed down and free of any errant fungi or cultures. The room was circular, multiple nests fashioned of straw and blankets lining the circumference. He produced the paste and gave it a stir, gathering an amount on the end of his claw. He stared at it, knowing the potential risk he was taking, but something, anything had to be done. He would not lose another hatchling to this wretched sickness.



This dragon, akin to the shadows falling over them, was evidently nervous. He could feel it, as it was very similar to the restlessness in his fingertips. In a way, it was a relief. His confidence grew, settling his nerves. She wouldn't want anything from him.


"I beg to differ, miss. Perhaps you've found yourself astray?" His gaze wandered over the hallway, passive and indifferent. It was an old trick of his, one used to draw in those held captive to him. How they'd follow his eyes, wondering just what he was thinking, to where in possibility he was looking to...only to be left hanging by the unspoken, bedazzled. He wondered if she would fall for it.


But of course she will.

Edited by Sugar-Free

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"One, but these two are hanging on just barely.." The dragoness corrected in a still panicked but in a stern motherly tone. She barely breathed as he searched his room before issuing the order to go to the thermal room. With a snort of recognition, a careful tucking of the second hatching from her tail to her other claw, a snap of leather and a flick of her tail, she took to the air of the large caverns belching our a jet of fire to clear a path. "Just hurry Brarrimund! she called as she swooped around a corner and into the thermal room.


When he arrived she had laid the two hatchling down on a bed of downy feathers, lose tufts of her fur and a soft cloth covering them both. Jasmine had her nose inches away from the end off her tail as she curled around the nest protectively, nudging the back claw of one baby Dragon to keep it from falling asleep and not waking up. Both baby dragons where wheezing dangerously, one choking out coughs that shook it's entire body. Jasmine whimpered and blinked, sniffing as pearly tears gathered in her eyes. She lifted her head looking at him as he came into the room, watching him silently.



Lucifer left as soon as Jasmine left and flew around the cave to the outside into the early morning sun. Most of the world below was still cast in the shadow of the mountains. He was heading to the place where he found the Heart's glow vines, ready to collect some more.

Edited by AroaraAngelwolf

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With the hatchlings settled and Jasmine wrapped protectively around them, Brarrimund began his work.Kneeling down to their level, he gently took one hatchling's jaw in hand, prying it open gently and sliding his nail across its tongue, very careful not to cut the delicate flesh. The little dragon snuffled and snorted, fighting back against the foreign substance, but reflexively swallowed regardless. It gave out a few hoarse coughs, but found the strength to shift away from any more of the torment he put it through. That relieved him a bit.


The other, far less lively than its companion, Brarrimund feared for. It did not try to escape his grasp, and didn't attempt spitting back out the grainy paste. He felt a hand against its scaly head, sensing the intense heat through his pads. His face grew tight. The odds were against them, but he wouldn't give up. For the hatchling and its mother. For himself.


He looked up at Jasmine, tears dampening the fur around her eyes. The love she felt for these tiny dragonets radiated in her posture, her expression...


For Jasmine.


He adjusted the hatchling upright against her stomach and held his hands cupped in front of him. He focused in on himself, breathing in slow like a tide coming to shore. He imagined raindrops, foam-white crests, dew on tender legumes...and when he breathed out, a small pool of water developed. He drained the contents into the hatchling's mouth, garnering a hesitant gulping noise noise followed by a tiny cough. It licked at its maw as a dribble found its way out--a reaction, a sign of life. He sighed out a held breath and wiped his hands together, regarding Jasmine with silver eyes.


"...the medicine should show effects in around ten minutes. The Ert's root with soothe the throat and lungs, the featherfern and quinnberry seeds will target the infection, and the Heart's Glow should prevent dehydration. I won't lie to you, Jasmine," he glanced down, watching the pair already showing signs of some revival, "I've had very little time to practically test this mixture. I'll need you to keep an eye on these two and monitor their progress. If they show any sign of deterioration, come find me immediately."


His eyes went back to hers.A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.


"The prognosis is good, though, and I know I can trust you. No doubt, your dutiful haste has lent itself to their survival. I...I thank you, from the bottom of my heart." He held up a hand to his chest. "I don't know what I would've done..." He trailed off, a strange sensation catching him off guard. He was suddenly unsure of what he wanted to say.



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The air in her fur felt glorious as it did always. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, the chill in the air unaffecting her. First she smelled them, then she felt them. Or rather the air current they generated. She dropped like a rock a few feet and snapped her wings back open, painfully so. "Ruth nii!" The dragon cursed, circling back upwards to see who she'd nearly collided with. "I'm very sorry." Hovering, she dipped her head. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

Edited by RavenWolf1010

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She studied him, then flicked her tail , sat up and jabbed the curved side of her claw at his chest. "You look like you got frozen in a lake then bathed in a volcano. You can thank me by getting some sleep. I haven't seen any other cases as of yet and I will take careful notes on these hatchlings reactions for you. Don't think you can hide your sickness from me Brarrimund." She wagged her claw in front of his nose like he was a misbehaving dragonling. "You're no use of you work yourself to death and that sly trickster is no use at all! Now you get some sleep and take some medicine for yourself as well. Go, now, shoo!" she ordered waving her claw at him and once again curled around the hatchlings. "You probably would've done the same if our positions where switched. " Jasmine said softly, switching from her good side showing towards him to the mauled side, something she did to dismiss dragons or scare them off. She carefully set the little heads on her tail to prop them up and pulled a barrel of water towards her just in case it was needed.









Lucifer was searching the ground for land marks when he heard a wing beat and looked up just as the wolf Dragon went down, the gust of air sending him upwards. He too cursed, only in Gaelic. "No lass, tis my mistake, I was looking at the ground. Say, have you seen a stone in the shape of a bear? I'm looking for a cave. It grows vines that is needed to help the little ones with their sickness. " He asked.

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Sickness? Hatchlings? Stone bear? Raven nearly jumped at the chance to help. "I've been there only a few times, but I think I know where that is. Follow me." The dragon soared southward, dropping in altitude with the mountain. If she remembered right, the cave was halfway down the mountain range, tucked into a culvert. Things were beginning to look familiar the lower they went. "Here's the culvert." The dense trees made landing in the center impossible, and they were forced to land just outside the culvert in a grassy clearing. A break in the line of trees marked the entrance. It however was a bit of a tight squeeze.

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Onyx folowed his gaze. What was he looking at? She growled quietly at herself for getting distracted. "I was lost a few minutes ago, but I know where I am now. Thank you anyways." Onyx looked at the ground. She got nervous when she talked to people she didn't know.

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Imil’s bright-orange eyes suddenly snapped back to the dark dragon. It wasn’t as if he’d just noticed her voice; he was merely passing the spotlight onto her. People could be easily coerced when they became the center of attention, and that was just what he wanted for her. To be captivated. To be compelled.


“Oh...excuse me, miss. I’ve been rude to you, haven’t I?” He let a moment of self-deprecation crease his brow, showing humility with a click of his tongue.


“I haven’t even told you my name. I’ve been terrible...all this time...” He let his arms hang at his side, drapes rustling and hips leaning as he shifted his weight onto one foot. It was necessary for a situation like this: keeping open, staying lax and comfortable, lacking intimidation.


“I’ve been called many things, but Imil is what I answer to. Though...I suppose if you wished it so..." Again, another coy smile crossed his lips, and he closed his eyes in reminisce. At least he wasn’t lying to her. But he wouldn’t divulge the truth, no matter if she asked, no matter what she offered. Besides, this trite lead he wouldn’t make good on, anyway. He hummed a bit to himself, the sound little more than a muffled hiss.


“...ah, never mind.” Imil’s eyes opened again, and he wrapped his right arm around his waist, the left coming to his collar to rest his knuckles under his chin. His attention returned to her, interested. His voice went low and inquisitive to match his mien.


“May I ask...yours?"



Brarrimund blinked.


Maybe he was more exhausted than he realized. Was Jasmine showing him an extended amount of kindness? Certainly, she wasn't as barricaded as she'd like to put on, he'd learned that much, but still...even this was a bit out-of-character for her. He blinked again, feeling the discomfort more throughout his body than he first did. Maybe...he did need to lie down.


"...ah. Of course. Always," he said in response to her last statement. She moved, showing the many, many scars torn across her side. Deep lacerations, bereft of fur and mottled like burns, wrote of a history of anguish, one of an attempt to steal away her autonomy or even her life. Though he had a limited understanding of just what had transpired, he could take a well-educated guess.


Why? Why must some humans be so cruel?


He averted his gaze before she noticed him staring. He didn't look on in fear, though, as many others would, nor did he do so in pity. It was a solemn reminder to Brarrimund of the darkness lurking in some souls, tucked back behind faces that could seem so kind to those they favored. Not just humans--dragons and the kin, even elves...none were entirely safe from the catching claws of incident or prejudice. Even him, he was sure.


He stood, rubbing under the chins of the two hatchlings. They were too sweet, he thought, and they had a mighty protector, one he'd likely trust with his own life. He turned, giving a look back.


"I'll take my leave then. If you need me, you know where to find me. My door is always open."


He trotted over to the entrance of the Thermal Room, giving enough speed upon his exit to bring himself airborne with a flap of his wings. Brarrimund landed close in front of his door, making sure to take up the rest of any remaining scraps of Heart's Glow vines lying around and took them inside. His cave, decorated with a thousand or so poultices and a thousand more tinctures in vials gathered on innumerable shelves, seemed to twinkle as his arrival sent shudders through the flames in wall-mounted lanterns. Nothing had changed in his short absence, as the scent of incense and parchment pervaded his nostrils as a sort of welcoming. Still very much his, still very much composed of Brarrimund and his ever-growing pharmacy. He had his companions--a smattering of hand-blown glass owls; a few dusty stained-glass suncatchers hanging that he couldn't correctly employ; paper flowers faded with time, memories of village children from a distant verdant vale--but it was still very much "Brarrimund", and only so.


He coughed, lightly at first, but a pang through his lungs brought him to his knees in a fit. It was enough to rattle his entire body, flooding him with pain and nearly disabling his movement. He thought it would pass, as it always did, but the moments between each rasping, choking gasp grew shorter and more uncontrolled. Against his wishes, he found the mortar and struggled it to his maw, scraping at the bowl with his tongue and teeth. There was little to be found, as he'd made it for the hatchlings and that was its intended use, but it would be enough, hopefully.


He dropped the bowl and hunched over, waiting out the waves until they nearly ceased, leaving only tiny huffs to billow his chest. Brarrimund carefully raised back up onto his feet and inched into the very back of the cave, back to where an assortment of blankets and sheets were lain haphazard over a heap of straw and down, much like the Thermal Room. It was considerable cooler here, as he believed the use of mana should not be wasted for his comfort, but he found it easier to adjust his warmth with the blankets anyway.


He chose one, a rather large crocheted piece in a blue gradient--a gift from an elderly couple for his service many years ago--and curled under it. Lethargy immediately set into his bones, stealing away any worries he'd planned to humor before falling asleep.

Edited by Sugar-Free

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Jasmine relaxed when he left. She went easy on him for two reasons. One, he looked like hell flash froze then rapidly warmed up again. She can see the exhaustion in his eyes, not to mention hear those coughing fits he tries to hide. The second reason was, without his knowledge in medical treatment, they would have lost more than half of the little ones. He had worked himself to the point of dropping for a cure that would work. He hasn't slept and barely ate, he had thinned a little bit over within the two weeks since the epidemic started. The Dragon needed a breather. Although he was older than her, she couldn't help treating him like a hatchling at times like this.


With a snort, she shook her head and focused on the little ones. The one who fraught with Brarrimund had rolled over to its belly and was pawing at her tail. She nosed the baby Dragon with a deep musical purr from her chest to calm it down. She nudged the other one, who wasn't wheezing as bad but wasn't wiggling around like his brother.





Lucifer misjudged her size in the air. He had thought she was the same size as he, but when he followed her down to the culvert and landed, the opening that seemed small for the lupine Dragon was actually just right for him. He really was very small for a Dragon being the size of a large dog. "Ah, thank you lass. Pardon my bad display of manners, I am Lucifer. Thank you for leading me here lassie, now ciao!" True to his foxy appearance, he bounded to the entrance and threw it no problem, disappearing into the blackness beyond it.

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"Sure. I'm Ruvaak, but Ruva or Raven is fine." However, the dragon had already bounded off into the culvert. She snorted indignantly, having felt blown off. The dragon was initially polite though, so she chalked it up to him being in a hurry (to make herself feel better of course). Having completed her task, she shook her coat out and then took to the air once again. Maybe she'd visit some of the main caves. It'd been a few weeks since she'd gone. Sometimes the dragons had interesting trinkets to trade. Others had stories that always caught her interest.

She landed at the mouth of one of the caves, sure to connect to others via lava tubes made years and years ago. Moving slowly, her nose twitched at the cool, damp air. It smelled of wet dirt. And... other dragons. Most of the scents were stale. However the gentle flow of air brought two fresher scents, as well as the murmur of voices.

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Lucifer exited the cave with a vine in his mouth. "Thank you again for reminding-........ never mind then.." He huffed once seeing she left and flew back to the mountains, he crawled through a crevice that was hidden with bushes and moss (the harmless stuff) and into his... well canopy nest. He lives in a small cave where sunlight worms it's way through to the massive amount of greenery he had. He had a fire mana stone for the plants that need extra sunlight, and a moon stone for the nocturnal plants. He had three spots to sleep. One in a soft bed of sweet grass, moss and down from his feathers, another within a mound of leaves beside a trickle of water in the cave was an the last was where he currently was. A large net of vines with broad leaves to pad it and a perfect view of the sky through a short tunnel straight above him. He planted the vine sprig he brought where it would get the most moisture and blew on it to help it take root faster.





Adam was as exhausted and laid down outside of the room in one of the spots of light in the tunnels. In these parts where a few Dragon born live, or dragons still in their mortal bodies stay, a large thermal stone was placed on the ceiling or along the walls at regular intervals to keep a steady temperature and enough light to see by. Azure was still looking over her newer books and deciding where to place them on the numerous shelves.


Adam's long tail whipped around him as he stretched like a cat and laid on his belly, his back absorbing the heat.

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Onyx frowned. He could be a stalker who just needs my name to find me, Onyx thought, That only happens in fiction. I'll be fine. But, I guess I could say a fake name. "You can call me Nyx."

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"'Nyx', hm? What a lovely name...black as night, smooth as a stone..."


The lilt of amused consideration was a farce; he knew she was lying. It made his mood fall flat, disinterested. Usually, simple secrets like that were an unbearable curiosity for him, just ready and willing to dig his nails into, but the dismissal in her voice was plain enough that he wasn't welcome to pry. And Imil, for all his ins and outs, would not. He offered her a tiny smile, holding the display firm as if it were meant.


"Lovely, lovely, indeed...ah, it seems I've lost the time. I must be on my way, Miss Nyx." He held up his harp and rested his fingers on the strings once more, posed like some sort of angel from the old texts. Imil took up a slow pace, feeling at a new tune to describe his mood.


"Let not a single stone catch at you." A simple phrase, ancient even before it became his own. To untrained ears, it simply cast favor toward the one it was spoken to.


As he passed, he caught sight of something far back toward the end of the hall near Lady Azure's cave. Curiosity got the better of him again--perhaps this person would more open to his wiles? He kept his gait steady, going through an old rhyme in his mind: "Shoulders back and chest set forward, with head held high, facing nor'ward...each step in measure of each other.'s; adroit in mind as under covers..."


When he came upon the figure, laying curled under the glow of a nearby thermal stone, he was first greeted by a silky head of blond hair, adorned by six black horns ringed with age lines. He made out the lines of bare shoulder blades--rather muscular, very...evident--, eyes trailing down his spine to meet a spattering of gradually widening red-black scales, peeking out teasingly before hiding below an adorned waistwrap. Around him, a thick tail, bearing the dark crimson witnessed prior. He seemed to be resting, or simply asleep, though there was no outward sign of the latter. He seemed peaceful, but somehow...so regal. Too exceptional to be a simple commoner, or some washed-up outcast with a too-sad backstory, finding solace here in the caves to escape their own horrid reality...




At some point, Imil's fingers had lapsed their plucking, both hands clutching tightly the frame of the delicate harp. But his jaw was too tight, his stomach too unsettled, his heart too erratic and his nerves too ragged. His eyes just stared.


He was speechless.

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The caves enveloped her as she moved further in. The coolness began to turn to warmth the deeper she went. This must've been where dragons basked in the warmth, as for some the surface was too dangerous. Being closer to mamlian than reptilian, the hot rocks never interested her much. Her nose twitched. There were others here. Looking up, she folded her ears to her head and slunk back into the low light. She wasn't quite ready to commune yet.

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As the other Dragon born's eyes slid down his body in a observing almost coquettish way, a single eye slid open- intensely glowing the fervent red gold color of lava - focused on the sandal clad foot beside his tail before sliding upwards in a manner that was calculative yet curious at the same time. A slight shift in his position betrayed his awakening as he tried to get a clearer view of this other one of his kind. Not seeing any reason to continue his sleeping ruse Adam shifted again, pivoting as he stood on his clawed back feet and his tail arranged his waist wrap so it covered his legs to his knees.


The movement was that of pure grace, seeming in one smooth motion he was up on his feet, eye to eye with the visitor. He tilted his head to the left as if carefully selecting his words before constructing a sentence, then voicing it in a rich mellow tone with a musical lit to it, the accent that spoke of Elvin origin. "What do you seek here? Any questions or riddles you have come by and wish to know the answer? Or do you simply seek advice? Tell me what you inquire and I will assist you in your search for the answer."

Edited by AroaraAngelwolf

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Imil was held captive, eyes following in time as the figure stood, sure and sultry in his carriage. Alongside his rising did a tugging flutter come through Imil's stomach and chest, up the back of his neck and settling heady in the front of his mind. He was nearly level with this young dragonborn, his dazzling ember eyes scorching him down through his layers of pretense to the core. The elfin planes of his face, the shapely curvature of his bare torso...he could be a prince, Imil thought. Being in the presence of royalty was nothing new to him, but somehow, he was utterly intoxicated.


And then, he spoke.


Fluid, warm and silken was his voice, drawing his attention closer and closer to the source of such mellifluous speech. His own pursed as he watched the man's lips--wielded so much like weapon against his delicate persona, but sweeter than any instrument Imil commanded--and shivered.




The man finished his sonata with a lilt of a question, and a twitch through his shoulder brought him back. He mimicked his movements, trying to keep his composure. This was going to be very, very difficult...


"Oh, excuse me...I didn't mean to disturb your rest, my lord. My sincerest apologies." He brought up a freed hand to his jawline, playing a raven lock around his finger to distract himself from the dark thoughts driving him to madness. He glanced toward the entrance of the nearby cave as a sort of feint before looking back at him.


"I believe I know what I'm looking for now..." The smile returned to his face, slightly tight but genuine enough, as he motioned subtley toward the cave. His body felt uncomfortably warm and heavy.

"But I'm delighted by your politeness, my lord. Perhaps I can employ you with a simple question:" But he already knew the answer. He was simply being greedy.


"Could you tell me if this is where Lady Azure resides?"

Edited by Sugar-Free

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