Egg Name and Description
Walk The Pattern Egg
Enormous compared to its brethren, there is but perfection in the shape of this egg, curving evenly from where it sits nestled in a mound of black sand, right up the craggy-seeming mountainous sides, to where it tapers elegantly as it faces the cavern ceiling high above. Despite its coloration, the shell is flawlessly smooth, an illusion of rocky heights that rises grandly to a tower-strewn peak. If one were to look close, greens and creams mingle with hazy browns, to paint a portrait of a place not unlike Ista, reaching spires surrounded by trees, though no mere weyr is this. A hold perhaps, of unrivalled grandeur, to which all other holds are but mere shadows. It stands alone against a backdrop of cliff and azure sky, a fading half-moon rising in starry evening. Inviting, almost, as it is distant, the winding strip of amber could be a road to this imaginary marvel, making its way inevitably toward that majestic summit.
Trumps Of Doom
Trumps Of Doom stirs in a hazy half-sleep, as if drawn into consciousness from a very long way away. Slowly, like the ebb and flow of the tides, it creeps up a black beach of awareness, all the while shaking off an indistinct background ache. Who are.. the question fades and at the same time becomes all-consuming, like eyes opening after a very deep sleep, only to find the room still dark. And yet there is nothing restful here, only the will to get up, the knowledge that there is something important to be done, but at a loss for what precisely that should be. Thoughts and memories are pulled like so many dragonpoker cards out of the deck, sorting through them the way one might rummage through a desk, discarding all the indecipherable or confusing paperwork of day-to-day living to snatch up something wholly vital and familiar, a feeling of dire importance, drawing portraits of people most important to you, studying them with a mad ferocity as if trying to understand a place in the great grand scheme of rivalry and relations. Your closest friends or family, spread out before you one by one as if trying to map the bonds you share, an impossible network of back-country roads paved with varying emotions. All around you, places you have known are brought to attention, as if trying, desperately, to plot feelings on a map. How does one define hatred or love, to something that has no concept of either, let alone plan out a expedition to one of them? As the scenery begins to shift, one memorable place into another, you get the feeling of movement, and yet you haven't moved at all. In the confusion, that background ache returns, that longing.. for something. And then everything fades to normalcy and you're left with a lingering sense of something unfinished.
Trumps Of Doom is waiting, with a great sense of something needing to be done. Somewhere, somehow, someplace.. needs to be reached, if only in metaphor. There is a dull flow of triumph beneath your hand, as if radiating from the shell were a measure of understanding. A roadmap has been charted, a most peculiar one of yourself. Every memory, every step you have ever taken, seems suddenly important. But whether these thoughts are your own, or some strange presence leading you on, you feel inextricably drawn forward, as if turning back has long since ceased to be an option. You must re-take the road, must cast your gaze forward and stride through the shadows without hesitation - for what purpose is there in looking backward? Or maybe.. is that fear? The lingering doubt that despite a great urgency, neither of you has any real idea of what you're doing. Is this an introduction, or an interview? Have you been found wanting? Deeper through the darkness it probes, like the bottomless well of the ocean, seeking your every motive, no matter how honest or unsavory. But if there is judgement for this or that mistake, or those certain words that may have been spoken, it may be only yourself who is doing so. The line has blurred between your own emotions and whatever now lurks in the recesses, studying with a calculating mind all the angles of your being. And again the places you have been begin to shift and blur together, but this time.. this time there is a light at the end of the tunnel, a destination that may be the weyr itself, or maybe you are just once again alone with yourself, standing on the hatching sands.
Trumps Of Doom is excited, tension building into a clear-cut purpose. Where there had been questioning and calculation, now there is an all-out mad rush to the end. The journey, so vitally important a moment ago, has suddenly become inconsequential. Right now, all that matters, is getting to the top. All those relations, both amiable and hostile, are but a stepping stone to a final outcome. Conflict is inevitable, the one who surely wins at life is the one who controls the most. A miraculous map of your own making, at the same time drawn by a mad hand upon crumbling hide, stretching and distorting as friendships shift and alliances are made. How can you be content to live like this? Isn't there more to life than one of a number? Why not march right to the top? Why.. why /feel/ at all? It doesn't understand, and in a searing flash of white-hot light, all those faces and places disappear, for the truth is blindingly obvious. Bereft, upon a black rock in the middle of an ocean of memories, images and emotions roiling together like so many foam-topped waves, the single background ache comes to the fore. A need, desperate and lonely, for some connection. Some link to an intangible future, where chaos holds court with oblivion, and the vast loneliness that stretches before you is filled with faces. Those emotions make you, and there is a desperate grasp for them, for the ability to have what you have, to be free to do and to see.. and yet even as realization comes, the presence is fading, lost to itself and leaving you, in the end, alone again.
Trumps Of Doom has sifted through less than half of all these memories. It's as if you can see across the shadows, to things still to come. There's an entire lifetime ahead, but you get the feeling the second half isn't all that important, or worth thinking about just now. Maybe you'd better get on with living instead of trying to fathom the sleepy thoughts of the thing inside the egg.
Walk The Pattern Egg wobbles. Yep.
Walk The Pattern Egg is totally the largest of its brethren, right? So when it falls over and a giant crack appears on its side, it's obvious there HAS to be a monster of a dragon in it. Surely.
Walk The Pattern Egg starts to shake violently, the entire shell vibrating with the monstrous energy of the thing inside. It gives a massive shudder, and suddenly, with pieces of shell flying in every direction ..a piddly little green sort of oozes out a hole in one side. Yup.
Hatchling Name and Description
Knight Of Shadows Green Hatchling
Looking almost like a giant smudge of wet moss, it is only upon close inspection that the true details of this green's patchwork hide become apparent. For she is a hazy mix of shadows, greying where belly meets her limbs, with a vaguely paler underside to compliment the stronger shade that spreads across her back and ridges. It is in her wings that the contrast truly takes form, with uneven daubs of color ranging from the drabness of fallen leaves to the more vibrant, deeper hue of Ista's jungles. Though the membranes are not overly-large, the variations in color might make them seem so, each pinion highlighted with the very slightest brightness, like streams of Rukbat's light caught in a forest canopy. Overall, she seems neatly fitted together, as if every limb were crafted for utility rather than elegance, tightly wound muscle giving definition, though it's difficult to tell considering the patterning of her hide. Her legs are tree-trunk strong and sturdy, if short, ending in glittering talons reminiscent of the famous black sands, fragmented diamonds as sharp as the gleaming points of her perfect white teeth. Her head is as compact as the rest of her, with small headknobs and faceted eyes set in unmistakably predatory fashion.
Public Impression Message
Private Impression Message
Shifting sands.. Why are the hatching grounds wandering off without you? For that matter, where did all the other candidates go? Not to mention the /eggs/? There were probably dragons too, but all of that seems to have faded - or walked - away. It's probably not /natural/ for the galleries to be moseying down the road like that. And is.. is Nziekilth /sashaying/ away? Really now, that is not right. Come to think of it, they probably didn't build that dirt path through the forest in the last few seconds you've been standing here, either. Or.. plant an entire forest in the hatching grounds.. But there it is anyway. At least the heat of the sands seems to have eased off, though for some reason, your feet are still burning. And your mind.. well, that is on fire. On fire with IDEAS. And they are definitely not your own. For instance, it's a pretty sure bet you aren't suddenly getting the urge to flail your arms in the air and shout 'WHOOOHOOO!!' at the top of your lungs. But nevertheless, that urge is definitely there. Except you seem to have more sets of limbs than normal, and feel all sticky and sandy all over. And your toes ITCH. Is that normal? And anyway, who is ASKING all these absurd questions? « Kasy! » That's right, you've finally cracked. Or someone slipped you some REALLY bad fellis and you're having an odd moment during the hatching. Hopefully you won't come back to your senses to find yourself face-first in a- « /Kasy/. » Right, pay attention, the hatching grounds are totally turning into a giant melon. Wut. « KASY! » You're lucky you were standing to begin with, because otherwise things could have gotten awkward, what with this slimy little green hatchling all up in your face. But then, it's HER face now too, because she is you- no wait, that's backwards, the is YOURS. Your Impeth. And she's bloody well demanding breakfast RIGHT NOW. Better get your head on straight, because the rest of your life just hit you at full gallop. And it's still dripping egg goo.
Personality / RP Tips
There is not a lot of nuance to your Impeth. She's not huge or tiny, and not terribly dumb or ..bright, but what she does have is an extreme of personality. Or to put it lightly, /extremes/. She can be friendly, she can be serious, but most of all, she is unsubtle. Maybe she takes after her dam in this, or maybe it's just to balance out how carefree Kasy has been until now. But when she's proddy, she will be PRODDY. And when she's serious, she will be SERIOUS. And there's rarely any middle ground between.
Oh, there will be times when she might be genuinely insightful, or devious to a degree that could be surprising, but any of the finer points of socializing that she has will be picked up from you, for on her own she is a mix many things, and often not bothered in the slightest as she swings between them. There is a touch of randomness to her, that likely comes from being a green. While on the whole, she comes off as one of those extroverted, very flirty dragons, she is also vastly more intellectual than many of her color, logical and dutiful to a fault perhaps, thinking those deep questions that might befit a philosopher, though rarely will she understand (or even remember in a sevenday) any answers you try to give her. She'll generally be the cheerful, outgoing sort, not shy in the least and more than willing to drag Kasy into whatever she believes would be the most responsible or prudent course of action. And she will not be afraid to speak her mind, though one thing she will have that sets her apart will be an unfailing sense of direction (even if it turns out to be the wrong one).
What Kasy lacks, Impeth provides. Not satisfied to sit in the background and plot, she will go out and she will DO. And she will take her sense of what is right directly from you. You might have to be careful in those first few months, because if Kasy thinks someone has been wronged, or some situation needs to be put right, guess who is going to barge straight in to fix it without a clue? Yup, yours truly! The same goes for wing duties, whatever they may be. Like a rhinocerous in a bookstore, Impeth will rummage through your brain trying to fit the words to the situation, and it will often take a force of will to keep her contained. Or maybe the aide of some larger dragon to sit on her till she forgets what she was doing. Up to you! But one thing is certain, if Kasy ever seems to be lacking direction, Impeth will find a path to take, and forge full-steam ahead, often randomly without thought for the consequences. It's a good thing she does at least have a sense of duty (or maybe a bad thing, depending on the situation!). But in the end, it will be you she does listen to - just getting through to her might be more effort than expected.
And when she glows, well. Then all bets are off. At least Kasy will never be bogged down with massive responsibilities, not with a dragon like her! A miniature maelstrom, all those extremes will be amplified tenfold, and of course her rider will get to share it all - and never know which one will take precedence /this/ time. That lack of subtlety might come back to bite you both in the behind afterward, though. For Impeth won't often wield flowery words, no silver-tongued temptress is /SHE/. No, she will be straightforward and.. maybe embarrassingly open with her (and your) interest in whoever happens to catch your fancy. /Especially/ when she is proddy. She may even go out of her way to do so, unthinkingly as always, because it just doesn't occur to her to try the soft approach. It'll be a relief when she finally rises, and then it will be back to business as usual, terribly pragmatic, in some ways.
And indeed, she is very serious about certain things. Those things Kasy believes are right, or those values the weyrlingmasters drill into you lot - she might be too serious sometimes. But she means well. Duties and responsibility - those are SERIOUS business. Doing the right, not dying during lessons, exercises.. also SERIOUS. And everything else? Then it is time to relax and have FUN. And this in a way is itself taken seriously, or more precisely, taken to such an extreme that she puts her whole being (and yours if it will fit) into it. What else is a friendly flirty green to do when she's not being called on to do something, after all. And really, if she's not on SERIOUS business, PRODDY, or out DOING, then she is off having FUN. And it's an adventure in itself just dealing with whichever one of those she's decided the situation warrants - for sometimes it's not even the same one twice!
This dragon's mind is an unending road along which all her thoughts travel, like fragments of shadow caught on the wind. Hazy images of places she has seen or been will be constantly shifting and blending into one another, except when she has to between. Then, a single place will be pulled into focus with such startling clarity, that it may seem almost more real than she is. Despite the often-flighty nature of greens, the ability to image will come so naturally to her that it might be difficult in the beginning to keep her from charging ahead when she first realizes she CAN actually make those memories into reality - though it might take a little more explanation to get her to comprehend that it is she going places and not the other way around. Then again, dragon travel has never fully been understood. Her voice will be distant, echoey, like a certain overlord watching over little minions scurrying about, commenting all witty and wry. Though her sense of what is funny might be limited to the things she herself has seen and done in the past sevenday. She is, ever distant in voice, but otherwise extremely friendly and outgoing, the seemingly detatched way she communicates utterly at odds with the more than outgoing dragon behind the words.
Whoo, welcome to weyrlinghood at Ista! The dragons here are always Something Else, and little Impeth is no exception. As you might have guessed, she has some very generous dollops of Dungeon Keeper and Dwarf Fortress (and Masters of Magic - see if you can spot them!) as her inspiration. She's like a little green Doom Drake all ready to take on the world(s), with about as much subtlety as her mother - maybe less, given greens often have quite a bit less inhibition. But as always, she is yours to mould as you will, and play however you like!
The clutch theme this cycle was book covers, and many of the dragons were based on the innards of said book. Impeth's egg was based on the absolutely MASSIVE compendiuum that is Roger Zelazny's Book of Amber - or Chronicles of Amber, whichever version. I wasn't sure if you'd read it, but to summarize - it's basically about this very twisted dimension-hopping royal family and their battles for the throne of Amber - the One True City from which every other city is but a mere reflection. It's mind-bending, utterly confusing, and the second half is totally not worth the read. But if you can find the first part with Corwin's adventures, I highly recommend!
Impeth herself was taken from parts of the books, with pieces of her personality pulled from each of the nine Princes of Amber - but it's not really neccessary to read the books, since they have about as much nuance as she does. From Benedict she gets her sense of Duty, from Corwin her Charisma, from Eric her Recklessness and maybe even sometimes-arrogance, from Caine her Pragmatism, from Bleys her Flirty Outgoing nature, from Brand her sense of Direction, from Gerard her tendency to plough through everything like a rhinocerous, from Julian her Intellect, and from Random, most of all, her impish nature. Her name, obviously, is taken straight from this, and is a nod toward certain industrious little minions from a fantastic game. Hopefully, you have as much fun playing her as I had making her! This critter was brought to you by the Shovel. Also Cenlia.
|Name||Knight Of Shadows Green Impeth|