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thinking. since hybrids between gorge crushers and mountain gliders are so common they're usually called cliff trekkers (for simplicity sake)

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Tension

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Thinwing sounds like kludd from the gahoole movie

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kill yourself

SHUT THE HELL UP

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changing the carp god's name to Merguise lol

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(x)

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I love nautical and seaside town horror stories. Tell me more about the fog and water that eats people

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Golden and brightly colored scales are a symbol of good luck and abundance in the coast, given their rarity and association with the deity of food and bountiful plentitude, Merluta (name subject to change). They're depicted as a golden dragon with shimmering scales and long, flowing fins, and simplified as a golden carp in art. As such, dragons with chimerism or shiny, warm toned scales are chosen the most for the dinemaster rank, mostly due to superstition and them being seen as blessed by Merluta.

Coast strikers keep calendars on slabs of slate with registers of major events during the year, and a small drawing of a carp atop the slate serves the purpose of judging the year: if it's drawn fat and plump, it was a good year, but a withered and skinny fish denotes a bad year.

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fog season is something all moor runners dread. When the thick haze from the Misty Spires extends its reach down to the moors, it's as if the whole place was suddenly a ghost town. Everyone hurries to hide in their homes. Cattlers are on high alert, completely exposed outside. Not a soul is seen, the birds and insects are dead quiet. There's too many tales of strange happenings and missing people in the fog, to the point that it has become a "person" in itself. This mist that drowns out sounds and slows down your steps as if it was a thick sludge. Are those shapes darting around inside it, or is it just a trick of the shadows? It is a sort of ghost of the plains, a malicious trickster and mysterious spirit.

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Geological horror. You find a geode and crack it open and the crystal lining its walls is human blood that can't be genetically matched to anyone. You find a human skeleton but every one of the bones is made from rock, a rock that you know can't be whittled into those shapes. You find layers of clay and loam that sport ancient fossils at the top and the still-rotting corpses of modern animals at the bottom.

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you know i 've been thinking a lot about coast striker culture and their worldview... they're known for their pride as warriors and sea serpent hunters (an incredibly risky feat to achieve) so they're ofter misinterpreted as arrogant by outsiders, when in reality they know they're simply another creature in the food chain. Sure, they may be higher up than most, but they're still not at the top. There is this sort of humility when it comes to the ocean: they know they can't conquer it, they merely live in it. Leviathans would be the true masters of the sea, but even then, who's to say they aren't at the mercy of the waves too? They revere the sea as much as they fear it, and most of their praise towards it is focused on "gaining its favor" and staying on its good side, as if trying to apease a volatile and powerful god.

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Dragons be like “I know a place” and then take you here

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some of you may remember that Misty Spires place on the map i drew a while ago, so here's a little excerpt about it from the lore doc wip

"On the tip of the wing lies a dreaded place, spoken of in hushed whispers and only visited by those foolish enough to do so, its whole being shrouded in mystery. The Misty Spires are a tangle of rock arches and formations, where an ever present fog has settled, making it extremely easy for daring adventurers to get lost. Many who have entered this maze and made it back out claim the rocks move by themselves, forming new pathways and dead ends out of nowhere, with voices of "damned souls" and shadowy figures following them wherever they go. The most outlandish rumors speak of the dead coming back to life if buried in those wretched grounds. Some don’t believe these traveler’s tales; after all, the spires are known to be infested by Haze reapers, an elusive species of wyvern that breathes out toxic fog capable of causing confusion and hallucinations. Still, some happenings would seem too bizarre to be simply accredited to only these creatures. The place is deemed cursed by the inhabitants of the moors, making it a subject of legend and myth. When the fog comes down into the plains, it is advised to avoid going outside at all costs."

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Alexey Chudin

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among fire breathing clades, breathing out smoke at someone can be used as a greeting or a threat, depending on color and thickness.

a light wisp of pale smoke is a friendly hello, especially if both dragons make the streams intertwine.

regular smoke let out and angled down from the other's face is a more formal/neutral acknowledgement.

thicker smoke flowing from nostrils, ears and mouth denotes impatience and irritation, though this is usually something done involuntarily

shooting out really dark smoke, especially if accompained with sparks is seen as a warning and even a threat

this has something to do with temperature basically, the hotter the fire the darker the smoke (based on the thing below)

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what if deepwater strikers sometimes had like frills and tendrils with stingers like jellyfish