Post by Lone Dancer on Dec 2, 2021 21:14:20 GMT
[Rule 1]
Rain roared in heavy downpour, lighting cracking, thunder like the snap of a heavenly whip. Raindrops slammed into his scales; countless tiny hammers as he searched for shelter. Darkness was swallowing the storming night, making it far more difficult to navigate between the trees, which only offered sparse protection against the rain.
A light flickered in the distance, and he let a swell of hope glow within him. Following the light of a flame, a beacon in the chilling darkness, he found himself on the porch of a log cabin, the roof's overhang shielding him. Two candle lights on either side of the door lit the porch, but no further as the light was consumed by the storm.
The door was heavy; thick. But it was unlocked, he learned as he pushed it inwards, hinges creaking. Closing it behind him with a solid thump, he took note of the curious detail of a wooden bar that could be latched to secure the door shut, along with an array of locks and chains that ensure the door wouldn't open.
The inside of the cabin was quaint, containing three sections. A kitchen/dining area, a living room with a cheerfully crackling fire that warmed his scales, and a simple bedroll for sleep. However, around the plush bedroll, was a thick circle of salt and symbols carved into the wooden floor itself.
Above the mantle over the fireplace, a fresh note was nailed into the wall. The script was rushed, barely legible, but he managed to translate most of it.
"Hi, welcome to my cabin. I'm likely not here If you are reading this note, you're in danger. Thankfully, I have set some protections in place, but they will only work if you follow a few rules regarding them. Otherwise, the creatures that roam this accursed forest will slip through the cracks, and drag you to unfortunate demise..."
A few crude drawing of things with far too many limbs and sharp teeth interspersed this part, but he continued reading.
"Once you enter the cabin, you only have five minutes to bar the door, and set all the locks. I heavily suggest doing this Now, before you continue to read this."
He would say he's only been here 2-3 minutes, but he rushed towards the door in a somewhat mad scramble, sliding the very heavy wooden bar into the latch, and then turning, chaining, and pushing all the other metal locks into place.
Once the last one was in place, something suddenly slammed against the door, startling him back. Edging back cautiously, he returned to the note.
"If you successfully got all the locks in place on time, something should thump the door. It will probably slam a few more times, but ignore it, it can't get through. Now, it will begin to use the voices of people close to you, or strangers, to get You to open the door. DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR NO MATTER WHAT YOU HEAR."
That last part was written in large, jagged lettering, only serving as emphasis. Like the note said, something slammed repeatedly into the door, before falling silent for a worrying minute.
Then he heard frantic knocking, and the voice of his sister, begging to let her in, that they were after her. He grimaced, but he trusted the note. There was no way his sister was in the forest at this time.
"Whatever happens, never let the fire in the fireplace die. It stops them from entering through the chimney. There are spare logs next to it. Do Not let them know you are afraid, it only encourages them. And finally, do not break the salt circle, or cover the runes. Those stop them from entering through your dreams. This is the end of my instructions, and if you follow them, you should survive. Also, last important bit.
I never arrive in the-"
Despite his best attempts, he couldn't decipher the final words. Taking a deep breath, he fed the fire a fresh log, as his best friend pleaded to open the door...
Rain roared in heavy downpour, lighting cracking, thunder like the snap of a heavenly whip. Raindrops slammed into his scales; countless tiny hammers as he searched for shelter. Darkness was swallowing the storming night, making it far more difficult to navigate between the trees, which only offered sparse protection against the rain.
A light flickered in the distance, and he let a swell of hope glow within him. Following the light of a flame, a beacon in the chilling darkness, he found himself on the porch of a log cabin, the roof's overhang shielding him. Two candle lights on either side of the door lit the porch, but no further as the light was consumed by the storm.
The door was heavy; thick. But it was unlocked, he learned as he pushed it inwards, hinges creaking. Closing it behind him with a solid thump, he took note of the curious detail of a wooden bar that could be latched to secure the door shut, along with an array of locks and chains that ensure the door wouldn't open.
The inside of the cabin was quaint, containing three sections. A kitchen/dining area, a living room with a cheerfully crackling fire that warmed his scales, and a simple bedroll for sleep. However, around the plush bedroll, was a thick circle of salt and symbols carved into the wooden floor itself.
Above the mantle over the fireplace, a fresh note was nailed into the wall. The script was rushed, barely legible, but he managed to translate most of it.
"Hi, welcome to my cabin. I'm likely not here If you are reading this note, you're in danger. Thankfully, I have set some protections in place, but they will only work if you follow a few rules regarding them. Otherwise, the creatures that roam this accursed forest will slip through the cracks, and drag you to unfortunate demise..."
A few crude drawing of things with far too many limbs and sharp teeth interspersed this part, but he continued reading.
"Once you enter the cabin, you only have five minutes to bar the door, and set all the locks. I heavily suggest doing this Now, before you continue to read this."
He would say he's only been here 2-3 minutes, but he rushed towards the door in a somewhat mad scramble, sliding the very heavy wooden bar into the latch, and then turning, chaining, and pushing all the other metal locks into place.
Once the last one was in place, something suddenly slammed against the door, startling him back. Edging back cautiously, he returned to the note.
"If you successfully got all the locks in place on time, something should thump the door. It will probably slam a few more times, but ignore it, it can't get through. Now, it will begin to use the voices of people close to you, or strangers, to get You to open the door. DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR NO MATTER WHAT YOU HEAR."
That last part was written in large, jagged lettering, only serving as emphasis. Like the note said, something slammed repeatedly into the door, before falling silent for a worrying minute.
Then he heard frantic knocking, and the voice of his sister, begging to let her in, that they were after her. He grimaced, but he trusted the note. There was no way his sister was in the forest at this time.
"Whatever happens, never let the fire in the fireplace die. It stops them from entering through the chimney. There are spare logs next to it. Do Not let them know you are afraid, it only encourages them. And finally, do not break the salt circle, or cover the runes. Those stop them from entering through your dreams. This is the end of my instructions, and if you follow them, you should survive. Also, last important bit.
I never arrive in the-"
Despite his best attempts, he couldn't decipher the final words. Taking a deep breath, he fed the fire a fresh log, as his best friend pleaded to open the door...
[Tribe Transferal]
I fiddled with my claws, fidgeting in place, trying to ignore my slight anxiety. I was likely doing a very dumb thing, but I had to at least try. My ears were strained as I tried to listen in to the clanking and stirring of unknown equipment as fluids fizzled; bubbling. Whoever I was dealing with, was certainly not a dragon, with a spider like body with eight legs, six leathery wings, and six arms like that of a scavenger. This was all covered in a dull, soft beige skin-like covering, instead of scale or chitin.
Perhaps the greatest source of my minor discomfort was the lack of any face. Only four compound eyes, in a diamond shape and pattern. They way they seemed to pierce right through me, weighing me, measuring me.
And finding me wanting.
"So you wish to change from an icewing to a seawing, correct?"
Their mental voice prodded at me, androgynous in nature. I tried to not be unnerved by the casual telepathy. Or the peircing stare. I nodded, unable to find the words to just say yes.
"That is within my power, yes. Any particular reason you wish to make this switch, if I may inquire?"
I thought about it, considering her question.
"I- hmm. There is someone that I love, but their family won't accept me. I'm not like them. I'm hoping that becoming like them will solve that issue."
"Ah, so for breeding purposes."
"What, no, no!" I could already feel my face becoming hot at the insinuations. They seemed amused by that, much to my embarrassment.
"I jest, I jest. So for love, then? I will take the time to state that this is unlikely to solve your dilemma." Despite stating that they were joking, their voice kept to the clinical monotone.
Still flustered after their previous comment, (Three moons, I am such a wreck of a dragon), I merely nodded in response once more. I willfully ignored the 'Unlikely to solve my problems' part.
"Well, I will begin the procedure shortly. Fortunately for you, I have better refined the process. It won't be as painful as the starting iterations."
"Wait, what do you mean, painful?"
"Re-configuring of one's biological structure is rarely a pleasant experience. And most numbing agents interfere with the process."
I gulped, but prepped myself. I felt clammy, cold. I could feel the smoothed out stone beneath my claws even more acutely.
"I suggest relaxing. Clenched muscles will not assist you."
Taking their words to heart, I did my best to loosen myself up, to relax.
"I am going to count down from seven. Seven, six, five, four, three-"
On three, I felt something sting the back of my neck. The reaction was instant. I felt myself rippling scales shifted, bones creaking and grinding as they moved into new shape, organs rearranging. My neck burned as the beginning of gills began to form. The pain had the minor benefit of making time seem to fly as it all washed together. When I finally opened my eyes from the searing whiteness, the first thing I noticed was I was short.
A strange detail to latch on at first, but it was the most obvious. While as a icewing, I was taller than the entity. Now, as an assumed seawing, I was just a head shorter.
"There appears to be no hitches or tumors."
"Tumors?"
"Something you don't need to concern yourself with. The procedure was a success. Was a rather smooth three hours."
"Three hours? I went through that for three hours?"
"Correct."
I didn't know how to feel about that, but I just accepted it as par of course. I thanked the entity, and began to exit, excited to show my SO my new body. Finally, what seemed to be the final obstactle to a happy life together was overcome.
###
"Who are you?"
"I'm me!"
"No you're not. The dragon I fell in love was an Icewing, not a Seawing. What did you do to them? Did you hurt them?"
"No, really it's me!"
"I don't believe you. I'm sorry, but now get out of my house before I call the city watch."
"But- I-. Yes. Okay."
###
When I arrived back at the cave, it was utterly empty, no trace of the entity or their lab, much to my panic.
Oh no.
What have I done.
Perhaps the greatest source of my minor discomfort was the lack of any face. Only four compound eyes, in a diamond shape and pattern. They way they seemed to pierce right through me, weighing me, measuring me.
And finding me wanting.
"So you wish to change from an icewing to a seawing, correct?"
Their mental voice prodded at me, androgynous in nature. I tried to not be unnerved by the casual telepathy. Or the peircing stare. I nodded, unable to find the words to just say yes.
"That is within my power, yes. Any particular reason you wish to make this switch, if I may inquire?"
I thought about it, considering her question.
"I- hmm. There is someone that I love, but their family won't accept me. I'm not like them. I'm hoping that becoming like them will solve that issue."
"Ah, so for breeding purposes."
"What, no, no!" I could already feel my face becoming hot at the insinuations. They seemed amused by that, much to my embarrassment.
"I jest, I jest. So for love, then? I will take the time to state that this is unlikely to solve your dilemma." Despite stating that they were joking, their voice kept to the clinical monotone.
Still flustered after their previous comment, (Three moons, I am such a wreck of a dragon), I merely nodded in response once more. I willfully ignored the 'Unlikely to solve my problems' part.
"Well, I will begin the procedure shortly. Fortunately for you, I have better refined the process. It won't be as painful as the starting iterations."
"Wait, what do you mean, painful?"
"Re-configuring of one's biological structure is rarely a pleasant experience. And most numbing agents interfere with the process."
I gulped, but prepped myself. I felt clammy, cold. I could feel the smoothed out stone beneath my claws even more acutely.
"I suggest relaxing. Clenched muscles will not assist you."
Taking their words to heart, I did my best to loosen myself up, to relax.
"I am going to count down from seven. Seven, six, five, four, three-"
On three, I felt something sting the back of my neck. The reaction was instant. I felt myself rippling scales shifted, bones creaking and grinding as they moved into new shape, organs rearranging. My neck burned as the beginning of gills began to form. The pain had the minor benefit of making time seem to fly as it all washed together. When I finally opened my eyes from the searing whiteness, the first thing I noticed was I was short.
A strange detail to latch on at first, but it was the most obvious. While as a icewing, I was taller than the entity. Now, as an assumed seawing, I was just a head shorter.
"There appears to be no hitches or tumors."
"Tumors?"
"Something you don't need to concern yourself with. The procedure was a success. Was a rather smooth three hours."
"Three hours? I went through that for three hours?"
"Correct."
I didn't know how to feel about that, but I just accepted it as par of course. I thanked the entity, and began to exit, excited to show my SO my new body. Finally, what seemed to be the final obstactle to a happy life together was overcome.
###
"Who are you?"
"I'm me!"
"No you're not. The dragon I fell in love was an Icewing, not a Seawing. What did you do to them? Did you hurt them?"
"No, really it's me!"
"I don't believe you. I'm sorry, but now get out of my house before I call the city watch."
"But- I-. Yes. Okay."
###
When I arrived back at the cave, it was utterly empty, no trace of the entity or their lab, much to my panic.
Oh no.
What have I done.
[The Transaction]
The coin pouch was heavy around her serpentine neck, especially with what it symbolized. This was her only chance, she wouldn't get a second. Hesitantly, making sure the coast was clear, she entered the trading hall. Voices and growls washed over her in chaotic din, dragons of all scales and tribes wandering around the Marketplace just like her.
Wares of less than legal kinds were being sold. She did her best to ignore the malnourished dragons among said wares. She couldn't help them; as much as it pained her to admit. But she had another goal she had to to do.
She carefully weaved her way through the crowd, paying special mind to not bump into anyone. She couldn't risk to draw attention. The sheer amount of dragons together meant this place was uncomfortably hot.
The interspersing bonfires didn't help either with the temperature. Finally, she edged her to a ramshackle, run down, tattered, black stall. A silkwing with beady eyes stared her down, barely lucid if the overpowering flowery stench that they rank of was any indication.
"Whaddya want?" The silkwing half barked half burped out, normally sharp eyes dulled by the cloudy gaze.
"Do you have any inyuanti?" The moment the words left her mouth, the merchant immediately become focused, alert. No longer did their eyes appear distracted
"Tha's quite a particular substance. Whaddya need it fo?" The silkwing was incredibly serious now, stretching upwards to the point they were practically looming over her.
"My mother, I need it for my mother."
"By Clearsight, what does ya momma need inyuanti for? She an addict? Ya gettin her fix?" I winced, but I nodded.
"It's the only time she doesn't beat us." The silkwing had the expression of pity that was so foreign to their face. It rankled her. She hated pity, hated the looks.
"Clearsight, just how young are ya. Bah, doesn't matter. Ya momma gonna be dead soon anyway, if she's an addict."
"I know..." She whispered. She quashed the inner part of her that cackled with glee that the horrid person that was her mother was going to die.
"Well, I'm no charity, if ya don't got tha pay, I'm not givin any to ya."
"I have the money."
"Excellent. Pleasure doin business" The silkwing's claws were uncomfortably warm, she took note, when she handed over the worn silver coins. The merchant rubbed them in glee, handing over a sealed pouch in return, which she didn't dare open and expose the dust within.
"If ya need more, ya know where to come!"
She only nodded, briskly walking away. Heading back to the place she hated most.
Home.
[End Collection 2]
Wares of less than legal kinds were being sold. She did her best to ignore the malnourished dragons among said wares. She couldn't help them; as much as it pained her to admit. But she had another goal she had to to do.
She carefully weaved her way through the crowd, paying special mind to not bump into anyone. She couldn't risk to draw attention. The sheer amount of dragons together meant this place was uncomfortably hot.
The interspersing bonfires didn't help either with the temperature. Finally, she edged her to a ramshackle, run down, tattered, black stall. A silkwing with beady eyes stared her down, barely lucid if the overpowering flowery stench that they rank of was any indication.
"Whaddya want?" The silkwing half barked half burped out, normally sharp eyes dulled by the cloudy gaze.
"Do you have any inyuanti?" The moment the words left her mouth, the merchant immediately become focused, alert. No longer did their eyes appear distracted
"Tha's quite a particular substance. Whaddya need it fo?" The silkwing was incredibly serious now, stretching upwards to the point they were practically looming over her.
"My mother, I need it for my mother."
"By Clearsight, what does ya momma need inyuanti for? She an addict? Ya gettin her fix?" I winced, but I nodded.
"It's the only time she doesn't beat us." The silkwing had the expression of pity that was so foreign to their face. It rankled her. She hated pity, hated the looks.
"Clearsight, just how young are ya. Bah, doesn't matter. Ya momma gonna be dead soon anyway, if she's an addict."
"I know..." She whispered. She quashed the inner part of her that cackled with glee that the horrid person that was her mother was going to die.
"Well, I'm no charity, if ya don't got tha pay, I'm not givin any to ya."
"I have the money."
"Excellent. Pleasure doin business" The silkwing's claws were uncomfortably warm, she took note, when she handed over the worn silver coins. The merchant rubbed them in glee, handing over a sealed pouch in return, which she didn't dare open and expose the dust within.
"If ya need more, ya know where to come!"
She only nodded, briskly walking away. Heading back to the place she hated most.
Home.
[End Collection 2]