@The Merry Brew - General Pinglist
The first nest from Lucid Divination. They have an August 4th hatch date, but I had wifi trouble this week (wasps ate the wires???) so they're swooping in a bit late!
All of the dragons marked LAST CHANCE in
my sales post on the first page are only available until the end of this week- Earth is profit pushing, and they will make their merry way to the Earthshaker by Saturday night!
Delph was focused, sharp, and, for the moment, in complete control. She sat comfortably in the shade of the makeshift canopy that served as the roof to the alcove that was their stall, filtering out the clamor of the market around her as she prepared a ritual over a low wooden table. She set out her tools with a practiced efficiency, her eyes scanning the bustling crowd as she laid out a low dish along with a small wooden case, divided into compartments that each held a corked amber bottle. In the center of the table, she carefully placed a dagger with a slender blade, slightly curved and sharpened to a fine edge. With careful movements, she uncorked a bottle from the wooden case and dipped the nib she wore on her claw into a substance so deep green it was nearly black.
She worked runes down the blade with deliberate strokes, then hurried to recork the ink. She looked at the dagger in the golden light of early sunset and felt a surge of appreciation for the work. Her partner, Betony, had made this blade. She could hear the faint clink of metal from the forge even now as she focused. She was eager to see what piece he would bring her next. Betony was the only armorer she trusted to produce vessels for binding. She knew, as always, that there were no imperfections in the blade, even as she turned it over for one last inspection. Satisfied with the dagger's worthiness as a vessel, she drew it quickly across her palm and then set it back into the dish on the table. She held her hand out and squeezed carefully, letting blood drip over the blade. It sizzled and shimmered as it spattered over dagger and bowl, tendrils of smoke wisping up into the hazy air.
The spirit wasn't visible yet, but she could feel its presence drawing close— a cold, prickling sensation that contrasted sharply with the oppressive heat of Dragonhome. She closed her eyes and reached out towards the dagger with her mind, focusing on what she needed it to do but also opening herself up to hear what the blade might need to say. She began to chant, low and clear.
Focused, she thought. "
Sharp," the voice of the knife whispered to meet her. The air felt electric around her, an uneasy feeling, but she was accustomed to it and pressed through. The temperature dropped just slightly. "
Seek," the knife whispered in the back of her mind. Her eyes fluttered open. The world was faded away, nothing left but her and the blade and the translucent form of the spirit she called forth to bind. It shifted like smoke in a breeze, it flickered like sunlight filtering through leaves. It felt unsure. She fixed her gaze on it and willed it to settle. The spirit was a swirl of shifting shapes, an echo hanging heavily above. "
Sharp," the voice of the knife whispered behind her eyes.
How do you make a spirit become a blade? What makes the runes more than a scribble on a knife? What gives the chant power to become more than random words? Intention.
She pushed her intention into the dagger. She reached out to the mass of shapes and lights and felt something inside of herself grab on. The chant was soothing now. She calmed the spirit like a restless animal, and the chant seemed to stretch into forever, and the feeling inside of her became a sharp tug. "
Protect," the blade sang out, and the spirit stilled then. It shuddered. It's sleek form hung before her in the dappled shadows of long forgotten trees. She heard the gentle cadence of footsteps on a forest floor, and a flash of silver scales gleamed like starlight so bright she had to blink her eyes rapidly to clear her vision. The spirit reached out and brushed her bloodied palm. It latched on to the tugging feeling inside of her. To touch it was to feel the essence of a wild land, and moss and earthy scents lingering on ancient hides and the thrill of hunting and catching and rending— Visceral, ancient. She fought back the urge to cry out. She
would control the intent. The air thrummed with magic, and the spirit aligned itself slowly with the dagger and plunged suddenly into the waiting vessel.
Everything else faded back in softly, first the sounds of the marketplace, then the orange glow of the setting sun. The dagger sat in the dish before her, runes and blood burnt away by the binding ritual. She hummed softly, a self-satisfied noise reserved for difficult work done well. She reached out to pick up the knife and froze when her fingers met the hilt. The thing...
Hissed. Yes. That was the only word for it. A hiss, and a heavy vibration that rattled the bones of her arm. Something was wrong with it. "What are you
doing?" she hissed back, her brow furrowing deeply. She murmured a part of her chant, pushing obedience into the blade. It pushed back, and the little alcove was filled with a sudden scream. From the knife. From the spirit inside. "
What are you doing?" she repeated, dropping the thing to the tabletop and taking a step back. The scream cut off as abruptly as it had started. She had failed at binding before, in her early days. That was to be expected. But this was something different. Binding now was something second nature to her. And even when she had failed, it had never been like this. The blade rattled on the table, then lay still. She stared at it, willing it to explain. The voice of the knife did not respond.
please ping swordblush for lucid divination hatchlings
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Lucid Divination
M / Wind
50kt | 50g
Orca Piebald
Cornflower Flair
Steel Monarch
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Though this dragon grew up helping his mother in her clinic, he never could get over the anxious feelings that arose upon seeing an injury. Too many upset stomachs and woozy faints meant he gave up early on assisting in surgery, but he found he was useful in other ways, like keeping track of the herbs they used for medicine and cutting better deals in the market when it came time to restock them. He longs to set up an apothecary shop of his own, somewhere he can take full control over the mercantile side of the family business without suffering the close proximity to injured dragons often necessitated by the clinic.
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Lucid Divination
F / Wind
50kt | 50g
Orca Piebald
Blue Flair
Radioactive Monarch
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This dragon loves games of chance, or, more specifically, she loves rigging them. She's great at sleight-of-hand, with a little magic involved to truly trick the eye, of course. You can often find her in the streets of the busy marketplace, calling out for passersby to join in a game of cards or a "simple" game of guessing which thimble hides the marble. The odds are always on her side, because she's never above cheating to come out on top. She would love to find a bigger home to try out her tricks, somewhere where she can blend in more easily to the crowd once dragons start catching on that they're not just having natural bad luck.
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Lucid Divination
M / Wind
50kt | 50g
Orca Piebald
Purple Flair
Robin Monarch
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This dragon is very interested in the impact of dragons on their local environments. He is specifically interested in local fauna, mapping habitats and researching things like disturbance tolerance in species around his home. He loves the days where he sees a creature or plant for the first time as much as the simple days spent grazing on figs under the scorching sun. He would love to broaden the scope of his research, whether it be by working together with other scholars or doing the footwork himself to compare the furthest reaches of Sornieth with his current limited notes.