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Imperiled Alliance

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Two great flocks, recovering from turbulent times. The elder continues to treat their wounds after the great war that almost consumed them, while the younger reels from a devastating betrayal that took the life of a beloved queen. The leaders of each flock know that a future standing alone would only bring more strife and suffering, and so an agreement is made: to form an alliance, in the hopes that each can aid the other in the times ahead, so that they need not face the future alone.


But not everyone thinks such an allegiance is a boon, no. To some this is a bane, a threat to their very existence. So within the flocks, lies and manipulation take hold, twisting the truth and turning the tide of public opinion against the alliance by besmirching the reputations of the flocks.


If this alliance is to succeed, the traitors must be driven out like the snakes that they are, lest potential allies become bitter enemies...




Character Sheet:












Name: Death's Folly

Breed: Vampire

Gender: Male

Personality: The very image of sophistication, this dragon is quite the intellectual gentleman. Always thinking of new ways to improve the lives of his flock, the dignified Folly is fair and just in all his decisions, weighing all options and evidence before coming to a conclusion. All are welcome in his court, be they tiny pygmy to grand wyrm, he shows no favouritism to any species, seeing all dragons as equal.

He does not suffer fools gladly, viewing recklessness and hotheaded behaviour as unworthy of his time, and he will not hesitate to make his feelings on such attitudes known. If there is one thing Folly despises above all else, it is a dragon who thinks of nobody but themselves, especially if someone is hurt because of this behaviour.

Accessories: A thick collar made of black metal, inlaid with gold in the shape of an eye, the iris made of shimmering red stone. There are similar, albeit unadorned bands on his wrists, ankles and a trio of them at the base of his tail.

History: Very little is actually known about this Vampire's past, other than he joined the flock when he was young and within several months and with a little help from a certain pair of Halloween dragons, had organized it from small, warring factions into one well-oiled machine of community. He is considered the true leader of the flock, with even the King and Queen of each island deferring to him for judgment.

But following a terrible betrayal and loss, it soon became clear to him that the flock's very existence was under threat, and it is with this in mind that he now leads an envoy to a neighbouring flock, in the hopes of coming to an agreement that would benefit both sides...

Other: Folly prefers to talk rather than fight, but when he does fight, he goes straight for the kill.


Name: The Eidolic Knight Peta

Breed: Shadow Walker

Gender: Male

Personality: Cold and distant, Peta tries to avoid interaction with others as much as possible. Not because of any dark reason, he just prefers to peace and quiet so that he can spend his time on one of the many intellectual pursuits he appears to love. Engaging him in one of these many activities is a good way to make him open up, revealing a dragon who enjoys sharing his knowledge yet possesses a deep-seated lack of trust in most others. Nobody is entirely sure where this comes from, agreeing it is most likely related to his youth before joining the flock.

The only dragon who has truly made it past this icy wall of distrust is his mate, the Black Marrow called Phantom, who Peta almost worships, much to the Marrow's embarrassment.

Accessories: A silver necklace with a bright red stone set in the middle. He also has a plain black metal band around each wrist and ankle, with another at the base of his tail.

History: The oldest of the Halloween dragons in the flock, Peta stumbled upon the fledgling group when he was himself little more than a hatchling. Homeless and alone, he quickly struck up a friendship with the Vampire, Folly, and Phantom, the Black Marrow who would later become his mate, with this bond being the driving force behind the founding of the leading council, The Coven.

Peta would be considered the main leader, but he prefers to take a lesser role, allowing him time to spend with his mate and whichever hatchlings they are currently fostering. However, when needed, he is always willing to fulfil his role as a leader, which is why he accompanies Folly on the visit to the neighbouring flock, though in a more civilian role in order to investigate rumours he has heard...

Other: It's extremely rare for Peta to drop his cool, collected demeanour. Only threatening his loved ones can do so, and THAT is a fatal mistake.


Name: Gwyndolin of the Dark Sun

Breed: Gold

Gender: Male

Personality: A noble and honourable being, Gwyndolin is a firm believer in the idea of the code of chivalry, specifically that his knights, those dragons who swear loyalty to him and his chapter within The Queen's Shadow, should be honourable, courteous, brave and, above all else, merciful to those who are weaker than you. This even extends to those bested in combat, though only to a degree; traitors are treated as the insects they are, and knights who bring in the heads of traitors are granted incredible gifts.

Though, there is a darker side to this dragon: any knight who breaks the code, or worst of all brings in a head not of a traitor, quickly finds themselves stripped not only of their titles, but also their eyes or even their lives. Gwyndolin shows no mercy to those who break their oath.

Accessories: An amulet shaped like the sun, made of obsidian. There is also a plain black metal band around his left wrist.

History: An orphan who never knew his parents, Gwyn hatched into imprisonment, taken from his nest by slavetraders who planned to sell the youngster to the highest bidder. At least, that's what would've happened, had the slavers not made the mistake of passing through the territory of a certain Shadow Walker. They never knew what hit them.

After his rescue and subsequent adoption by the Shadow Walker and his Black Marrow mate, the little Gold soon became a fairly respected dragon in the flock for his surprising wisdom and noble nature, even being granted his own chapter at a very young age. Needless to say, it was no surprise when Peta chose him to accompany the diplomatic envoy, though mostly as a learning experience for the young dragon.

Other: Gwyn's manner of speaking is somewhat old-fashioned, but he does try to be more "modern". He finds it very uncomfortable, though.


Name: The Apothecary's Sword

Breed: Spirit Ward

Gender: Female

Personality: Normally this Dragoness is a calm and quiet individual, happy to give advice to those in need of it, always with the additional dose of the sarcasm she is well known for.

However, in combat, she is a very different dragon. Cold, emotionless, she does not hesitate to strike down an opponent, her medical knowledge put to a much darker use as it shows her exactly where to hit, which, combined with her nonthreatening appearance, makes her a deadly foe.

Thing is, she isn't a killer. She prefers her opponents to stay alive, because after all, she's got to test her new medicines on somebody...

Accessories: Apoth always carries a surprisingly ornate wooden box which houses her many concoctions and medicinal ingredients, as well as a red sash with two gold bells tied around the tip of her tail.

History: Apoth was just one of the many orphaned hatchlings raised by the late Queen Verlornes and her mate, Father Ailill, and developed her fascination with medicines after watching the Guardian of Nature that was like a father to them mix potions to help her sick nestmates.

The death of her foster mother was a huge shock to the Dragoness, and when she heard her foster siblings planned to form a group to flush out and punish other traitors, Apoth made it very clear that denying her membership was not an option.

She is sceptical of the alliance, and on orders from the leader of her group, has secretly followed the diplomatic envoy as both an information gatherer and protector should things go bad, using the disguise of a wandering merchant.

Other: Apoth's name isn't the name she was given at hatching.


Name: The Detested One

Breed: Avatar of Destruction

Gender: Male

Personality: Cruel, callous, manipulative...the best way to describe this dragon would be "psychopath". He cares about nobody but himself, seeing everyone else, even his mate and son, as nothing but tools for him to use to further his ambitions, namely the obtaining of the crown he considers his. Anyone who makes even the smallest "insult" against him is considered an enemy who must be disposed of in as violent and brutal a manner as possible, regardless of who they are.

Thankfully, he is easily forced into impulsive action by his pride, meaning his plans are normally foiled before they can come to full fruition...

Accessories: The gem from a Desipis' tail on a band of silver around his neck.

History: The first born son of Queen Verlornes and King Ailill, this dragon was groomed from his hatching to be the next king and leader of the flock. However, it became apparent very quickly that the Avatar cared only for himself and, amidst fears he would bring nothing but trouble for the flock should he be at its helm, the ruling couple made the difficult decision to instead name their second-born son, Keres, as heir.

While most of the flock welcomed this decision, the Avatar was enraged and, in a fit of anger one night, attacked his parents, resulting in the death of his mother, Queen Verlornes. He would've killed his father, too, had it not been for the intervention of a young twin-headed lindwurm who distracted him long enough for the alert to be raised, though at great cost to both sides: the avatar was left blinded in his left eye, though he perhaps got off lightly compared to his opponents.

Stripped of his name and exiled from his flock with the death sentence hanging over his head, this dragon lives his life in the shadows, spreading lies and manipulation to try and regain what he considers his rightful place as king.

Other: The fight and his blinding have left him with a particular hatred for two-headed lindwurms.


Rampaging Wyvern


Name: Marth

Breed: Tinsel (silver)

Gender: Male

Personality: His image is that of heroism, an infallible leader - flawed, yes (unsatisfactory tax rates?), but still that of a dragon to be truly admired. In reality, while Marth started out as a naive, idealistic dragon, his encounters with the Dolhr and their leader has left him truly changed. Unable to cope with his failures, he ended up becoming an insufferable narcissist, a tendency to hate being proved as having done badly, regret for deaths he could have so easily prevented, the sheer stress of running a kingdom, the list goes on.

He still tries to be a reliable leader, and only a few of his closest and most trustworthy dragons have seen him drop his facade. Arguably, this is for the worst, as they may well be subject to verbal abuse. But at the same time, it is his people and his kingdom that Marth will always put first.

Accessories: Most notably, Marth is never seen without his cape, a satin blue garment embellished with Altea's coat of arms and pinned around his neck with a circular brooch. He wears a golden headband (apparently in memory of his sister), and black leather talonless gloves that nearly reach his elbows. Most importantly, carried at his left at all times is the Falchion, a purportedly divine sword forged by Naga herself and wielded only by those of a specific bloodline. Its golden hilt, embellished with a ruby and an emerald, and unbreakable blade are subject to many an imitation, as is its elaborate scabbard.

History: As a young dragon, Marth witnessed the invasion and utter defeat of his kingdom at the hands of the Dolhr. As a target for assassination, Marth was taken to the distant island kingdom of Talys, where he would meet Caeda.

Several years later, a plan to reclaim Archanea back from the Dolhr was set into motion. Though his small army protested, Marth insisted he be with them in the front lines, a choice which can be argued to be responsible for the death of at least one of the army's units.

The fight for Altea was, though barely, successful and the Dolhr's leader, Medeus, was slain. Fast forward three or so years and the Dolhr made another attempt on Altea - they were swiftly put in their place, but at arguably a greater cost than their prior fight. Possibly the battle that sent Marth towards the deep end was one wherein he was forced to both fight and kill his own best friend as an act of both desperation and mercy.

Other: Fire really upsets him. If he ever breaths fire, it's a certain sign that something's really not right.


Name: Caeda

Breed: Copper (red)

Gender: Female

Personality: Both gentle and friendly, and cold and calculating. Caeda is almost entirely preoccupied with work and tackles more than she wants to thanks to her spouse's waning health. As she is a huge influential figure for the wyverns of Archanea, Caeda frequently makes public speeches and refuses to let on to her people the amount of stress she's actually under, wanting to maintain her, her spouse's, and her territory's reputation as best she can.

Accessories: Caeda barely accessorises herself now, occasionally donning a silver cape for her public appearances. Her personal weapon is the Wing Spear, a long, thin and thorny stem of reinforced golden metal, hung at her left side.

History: Once, Caeda was the princess of the island kingdom Talys. When Marth sought refuge here, she befriended the young prince and, when the time came for him to fight to reclaim his kingdom back, she accompanied him with her trusty Wing Spear. Since then, she has never left his side through both thick and thin. After Altea's second fight against the Dolhr, Marth and Caeda became a wedded couple, whereupon Caeda was recognised as Altea's queen.

As soon as she became queen, Caeda worked to improve Altean wyvern life, as the capital had up to that point been constructed by westerns, for westerns, and wyverns were considerably oppressed.

Other: Caeda's oddly good at strategy games. She liked to play them a lot when she was younger. She's also an incredibly skilled aerial fight, unable to take solid hits but awfully hard to hit in the first place.


Name: Khususnya

Breed: Avatar of Creation

Gender: Male

Personality: Khususnya is a cruel individual, actively enjoying the suffering of others. He claims he has a 'morality', never explaining how so, or what his limits are. He stoops to the lowest of levels, having others do his dirty work on the pain of death if he so desires and disabling victims so he may taunt them at his leisure.

Accessories: Nothing outside of 'disposable' flesh and blood pawns to do his bidding.

History: Nobody knows Khususnya's origin nor his motives, only that he appeared one day to do nothing but terrorise Archanean civilians. Evading traps and hunts relentless, the Avatar eventually just turned himself in, pleading insanity and confessing guilt. He was not executed, instead exiled from Archanea, whereupon he fell silent and eventually became forgotten.

The action taken against him, intended to protect the territory and its civilians, only ended up placed Archanea squarely in Khususnya's crosshairs for 'revenge'.

Other: Khususnya has an alternate backup plan almost guaranteed to be set into motion regardless of what happens - if he cannot get Altea down under his thumb, nothing is stopping him from resurrecting the corpse of Medeus himself.


Name: Pumadraze ('Puma')

Breed: Fire Gem (green)

Gender: Male

Personality: Rough around the edges, Puma is a loud, rough but nice enough dragon with an awfully controversial job. He works as a freelance dragon slayer, taking on jobs for the best reward and ridding Archanea of 'feral' species deemed dangerous. He has associates but no friends - as expected, seeing as he often spends weeks away from civilisation on the hunt for dragons. If he's been away for particularly long he may act socially awkward while he readjusts.

Accessories: Puma has no personal weapons, instead carrying around a leather rucksack that holds a range of tools, from chains to daggers to flints and so on. He wears a heavy hemp scarf intertwined with the skin of a Hooktalon's right arm, removed at the shoulder and still possessing the paw, a heavy and mummified specimen that hangs at Puma's chest.

History: Puma used to handle metalwork, but on an industrial level rather than an artistic one. He gained next to nothing from it, the products were dull and unattractive, and he was incredibly bored with it. In an effort to fight the boredom and to make the most out of his small wage, he started intertwining with dragons in Altea's local tavern. Here he was introduced to the concept of becoming a bounty hunter. Initially finding the idea unappealing - if anything, he'd have preferred to go with recreational metalwork - his opinion did change, and quickly.

Puma has since become a well-respected mercenary in his field and has numerous kills under his belt.

Other: Puma considers one of his targets a true rival. A female Fell nicknamed 'Willarside' has escaped him on multiple occasions, and Puma himself has gone on record describing her as 'experienced, intelligent... an anomaly'.

Edited by CharonDusk

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((OoC note: Different colour for each speaker, to make it a little easier. Peta is blue, Folly is red, Gwyndolin is orange, Apoth is purple, Detested is green.))


A cold gale blew through the trees, scattering the brittle leaves with a harsh clacking sound, reminiscent of bones rattling, as the branches clashed with each other. Most of the leaves disappeared into the mass of brown and red and gold that carpeted the forest floor in the hues of the season, whilst others travelled with the breeze, lost forever on the darkening horizon. Some came to rest upon a strange mound at the base of one of the larger trees, a mound that did not belong in an otherwise flat landscape.


For a moment, silence. Then another sound, the gentle crinkle of the leaves being crushed beneath something's feet, despite there being no obvious source for the noise. As the sound drew closer to the mound, a form began to take shape; first a vague outline of the beast, then more as the creature became corporeal, a grand dragon of a shade not unlike that of fog in the early morning light. Indeed, even solid as it was, there was an ethereal touch to its form, as if the dragon truly was the embodiment of fog.


A swing of the translucent tail and the leaves on the mound were gone, revealed scales of darkest red, red the shade of dried blood.

"The sun has set,"

At the sound of the deep, gravelly voice, the mound shifted and moved, a long thin neck slowly raising up to meet the ghostly gaze with sanguine eyes. Wings, as bright as freshly drawn blood, slowly stretched out as the second dragon pushed itself to its feet. Mouth split open in a yawn, revealing teeth like daggers, with two in particular looking wickedly sharp, before that gaze took in its surroundings.

"Good evening, my friend. Time for us to continue?"

"Aye. We are but a day's journey from the border. Hopefully they'll be there to greet us,"

There was a small sound of agreement from the vampire as he shook off the leaves that still clung to his body, then he looked around once more, his expression now one of slight confusion.

"Where is your protege?"

In response, the ghostly Shadow Walker indicated a distance away with a nod of his head, small smirk forming on his lips as the Vampire's eyes were caught by the brightest of flashes that danced in the trees for a few seconds before fading away again. Vaguely, the outline of another, slightly smaller dragon could be seen, the lights it created causing its scales to gleam with a brilliant gold shine.

"Seems he is trying to emulate his mate's illusionary prowess, wants to teach it to the princes when we return,"

"A wise choice, considering... Ah, we must be off. We do not wish to start these talks by setting a bad example, do we?"

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((yaaas free time FINALLY ;v;))


((Colours for my dragons are as follows. Marth is dark blue, Caeda is brown, Khususnya is grey, Pumadraze is olive, everyone else is black.))


The lowering sun's light filtered through the trees, spattering the ground with warm shades to offset the cool environment.


Caeda gazed into the thinning canopy, watching for the first stars. Her cape hung loose over her shoulders, barely disturbed by the breeze. She sighed and blinked. What were the others doing? With a stiff air of impatience, Caeda craned her head around to spy on the rest of the party.


There stood gathered a total of six dragons and one drake. Minutus and Bytanila, personal assistant Nilia pygmies. Ras Brass, gold Tinsel representative of Archanean Western dragons and combat master. Gowdali, Seragamma representative of Archanean wyverns, and also a combat master. Zeihan, time-manipulating Chrono Xenowyrm, navigator and strategist. Marth, king of Altea and a living legend. And of course, an unnamed Greater Spotted Drake carrying upon its back a number of supplies needed for the journey.


While Marth and Zeihan appeared to be holding a conversation, the group was pressed for time. Caeda gave in and approached.


"The sun is low, dear."


Marth turned first to look at Caeda, then to the dimming horizon.


"...Right. Of course." The silver Tinsel gave Zeihan a meaningful look and prompted the entire party to continue on.


Caeda matched her pace with that of her spouse, picking her wings up careful over the many rough and thorny obstacles littering her path as she walked alongside him. "Please, you have to cut Zeihan some slack." She nosed towards the Xenowyrm at the head of the group, occasionally appearing to flicker in and out of existence. "Time magic isn't easy."


"If we took an aerial route-"


"We can't."


Caeda paused, as though waiting for Marth to speak up.


"This isn't a battlefield."


"Not yet, it isn't." Marth's line of sight appeared fixated on Zeihan. "We wouldn't want to be caught off guard right in front of a stranger territory, in the middle of foreign land." He tossed his head and frowned. "Minutus! My fringe needs straightening."


Caeda turned her thoughts to her idea of more urgent matters. She was undeniably nervous about meeting leaders of an entirely different territory, but this just came with her line of work. Sometimes things worked out smoothly. Other times, they fell through. She had mentally recited nearly every possible outcome by this point, and they were about as ready for anything as they could afford to be.



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Far above in the twilight sky, the final rays of dying light caught on wisps of mist that emanated from the wings of the dragon as it hovered, surveying the approaching group. As if satisfied with what it saw, the dragon allowed itself to drop, wings folded in as it dove towards the copse far below it. Concealed with the shadows of the trees rested the other members of the small group, the gold, who rested on its haunches, body tense as it waited, and the vampire, the remains of a recent kill still clutched in its paws.


A soft rumble issued from the throat of the gold, head swiveling this way and that before his gaze finally came to rest upon the vampire, who acknowledged his companions look merely by raising an eyebrow, a small smile on his stained lips.


"Something bothering you, Gwyndolin?"


The Gold dragon, Gwyndolin, opened his mouth as if to respond, only to shut it again with a shake and another rumble. The vampire chuckled as he tossed aside what was left of his meal and moved to sit beside the other Dragon, wing gently stretching out to wrap around the gold. It was a strange sight, made only possible by the fact that the Gold still possessed the small frame of a young dragon, which combined with a thin yet elegant frame to give an almost feminine appearance to the dragon.


"I still believe that this agreement to meet dragons unknown to us and ours yet leave behind the might of our armies was an unwise choice, Master Folly,"


At the soft voice, Folly nodded, eyes thoughtful, before lifting his head upwards to gaze into the distance, the horizon from which their guests were to approach. If he felt and fear or apprehension, the Vampire hid it well.


"Maybe, my friend, but bringing an army would've possibly intimidated our guests,"


If the gold had anything to say in response, it was prevented from being spoken by the beating of wings and the rush of wind that they brought as the shadow walker came to a rest mere feet from where they stood.


"Our guests are just over the hill. Should we go to them?"


In response, the Vampire nodded and his wings unfurled, beating powerfully against the air as he soared upwards, twin rushes of wind from behind him indicating that his companions had also took flight. It took only a few moments before the incoming group came into view, and Folly stopped to briefly appraise the dragons he saw below him. A pair of pygmy dragons, nilia if their grey hue was any indication; a tinsel, as gold in sheen as Gwyndolin himself was; a Seragamma who seemed to have seen many battles; a Xenowyrm, whose rich turquoise hue and flickering form indicated a Chronos; another tinsel, this one glowing silver; a Copper, cape gently floating in the breeze; finally a drake, a Greater Spotted laden with what seemed to be supplies.


" 'tis only a small band, Father Peta, Master Folly," came the voice of the young gold, "Doest thou think this truthfully is them?"


In response, the Vampire dove, wings stretched to full length as he glided down to land before the group, pulling himself up to his full regal stance as the others landed behind him and came to stand beside him.


"I would assume that you are the envoy from Archanea, correct?"

Edited by CharonDusk

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