#wildclaw lore

[pearlcatcher-problems]

a few finished projects that I've been vibing with a lot! and their bonus lore rambles under the cut to keep things a little more trim ; w;

» the wives [ Padparadscha | Bunanuhnanuh ]

antique jaguar ᛜ ginger breakup ᛜ terracotta koi bronze piebald ᛜ white basic ᛜ terracotta koi

» the twins [ Naberius | custard ]

stone piebald ᛜ white basic ᛜ spruce koi tarnish pharaoh ᛜ white basic ᛜ brown basic

» acolyte goblin ambassador [ moss ]

white basic ᛜ obsidian paint ᛜ hickory koi

I swear I'm normal about naming dragons-- I'll have serious names alongside dumb meme ones and treat them equally as seriously as characters. I swear, it makes sense in my lair. I promise.

» the wives [ Padparadscha | Bunanuhnanuh ]

Pad and Bun are wives, with Bun being the elegant airhead and Pad being the gruff behemoth. Pad is near twice Bun's size and tends to be more protective/defensive than the wildclaw is. Her pearl tends to stay with Bun when not in her pearl pouch, who keeps it in one of her silk scarves padded with dry moss and lavender sprigs.

The two of them are residing in the Bazaar, currently travelling between there and the Oasis to finalise some trade agreements before the encampments decide to make proper paths between them. While Bun is more than happy to keep the conversation for the two of them, Pad is just.... always listening. The pearlcatcher beast somehow always seems to know what is going on and can quickly get the answer to the most obscure questions if given enough time to think. This includes knowledge from any of their other outposts, somehow able to just.... know. ( Behind the scenes, she's actually a fraction of a hydra, and despite them being split, they are still able to communicate telepathically with each other, resulting in easy relay of information between allied outposts nearly instantly but the only one who controls/knows of this is Quail. )

Bun used to be part of the Roost outpost, which is why her namesake is so strange compared to the desert-dwellers. She's kept her name, although able to change it any time given how Roost customs are, and finds some joy in how hers and Pad's mirror each other in length. Those close to her may call her Bun or Bana, although Pad tends to call her Sprig, Sweetbean, and other soft little nicknames. When relaxing, Pad often gnaws on Bun's horns when cuddling to keep her tusks in check, something Bun doesn't mind as her horns constantly grow regardless.

» the twins [ Naberius | custard ]

The youngest of the Acolytes ( a subterranean clan that only emerges for three weeks a year and spends the rest of the year worshiping the Solstice trio I / II / III and tunnelling. More Info on them is heeeeeere! ) They have the same affliction post-hatchling that ogi and his younger sibling do, where they just haven't progressed further physically or mentally. They have a lot of inherent volatile magics because of what they are, but they can't always act on it in the way they want due to whatever is stunting them. This leaves the two a little hard to predict, scrapping as often as they'd play, all while leaving arcs of fulgurite along the tunnels from their warring elements.

They are often underfoot, eager to help tunnelling efforts and harvesting lichen, but are easy to tire out and will just nap wherever they run out of energy. It's not uncommon to find both of them blocking a tunnel because they need a quick powernap. Good luck moving them.

Naberius and custard's energy came from an old elemental, also named Naberius, who decayed on the Acolyte border after leaving the bounds of the Oasis. The two spawned from his fall and have many of his powers, but with the stunt and divide between them, it is just a grain of what it used to be. Sezha knew what they grew from, and decided to keep Naberius' name for one as a way to honour his fall, while casket was allowed to name the other, resulting in the mock-roost name: custard.

» acolyte goblin ambassador [ moss ]

Moss is the 'ambassador' for the Acolytes when they're out of the ground, or when dealing with people who come to 'trade' ( drop gifts and supplies, they don't actually want anything from the Acolytes in exchange and are just encouraged to do so by Quail and repaid for it in other ways ) at the outposts' entrance during their submerged seasons. She loves the idea of bartering and making a trade, only really knowing how trade works from her few visits to the Oasis grounds and seeing the elementals make pacts.

When trading, she wears The Hat. The hat is a combination of a few hats she's traded for over the years, worn around the edges and lovingly cared for. She often puts feathers, gemstones, or dried flowers tucked into the brim for flair, and will outright refuse to accept offers from other outposts if she can't get her claws on her hat at that time. All business MUST be done with the hat.

When not being Very Important, she spends most of her time tunnelling and setting up the lighting system in the deeper section of the lair. The Acolytes currently use a lighting method that leeches off the ley lines beneath them, giving them an easy method to track the health of the flow of magic and know when their worship is required. These free-floating orbs can be placed at any area of the lair as long as they're still connected to the earth, and so often will be rooted to the walls with vining plants from handsome's farm.

[mawsmauls]

Fate brushes against certainty and settles in your gut like stone, heavy cold and painful.

[dinodogs]

Still not used to posting FR stuff but I just wanted to show off this very pretty boyo

[allstohel]

*vibrating*

[keryth-fr]

🔥🔥🔥 Wildclaw Wednesday 🔥🔥🔥

[naphiatra]

Before her self-imposed exile with her best friend Val, Entine had the fiercest rivalry with an outspoken Wildclaw called Genesis. He had always been jealous of her best friend's popularity so he took advantage of the situation once the Nocturne fell under the curse.

Entine devoted all of her time to trying to help break the curse and contain the spirits. Genesis, however saw Val as a lost cause and a burden on the clan. He spread dissension among their clanmates, and it resulted in a heated argument between the Coatl and Wildclaw, which quickly escalated into a physical altercation. Genesis's bright, fiery temper clashed with Entine's cool, collected demeanour, and neither was willing to back down. In the end, Entine emerged victorious, but left alongside Val not long after.

First | Prev

[xaz-fr]

A Leap In Magic 1/?

The City of Mu had settled into its Silence decades ago and still it hung in Silence. Its great engines quieted, its protectors asleep in their homes, its civilians carefully taken from the streets. The maren that had once joined in the delight of its existence had long gone away, save for some stragglers who couldn’t let go. The only two dragons who walked the streets and hallways of the once thriving city and plan were the one’s who’d started it in the first place.

Ars walked with his sister down the empty road, the wind ahead of them clearing any loose debris. Before she’d come back to him Ars had long since removed everyone from the streets so their Silence wasn’t quite so much suffering. That they may sleep unending in their homes. Despite being great and powerful Progenitors the magic here, within them, and all around them, was faded as if washed out in the rain.

“It’s a nice day out,” he said, always trying to find the good. As usual Nadalin didn’t speak to him. She hadn’t spoken to him since her return some years ago. He’d tried everything from magic to his own physical abilities but nothing could coax a single word from her. He knew the Silence still gripped her deep within. It would probably be years before she shook it loose. But she did raise her crest at him, to indicate she heard him. That was better than nothing he supposed.

They walked the empty streets and up into the great Central Library of Mu. The largest building in the city, towering over it with it’s great domed top, its grounds scattered with minarets for passing dragons to perch. Mosaics and frescoes detailing the history of the clan covered the walls of the library and inside it was said was a copy of every story ever told.

Or it had been.

With the rising and erratic changes of the Elements, the oldest of dragons crawling out of holes in the history of Sorienth, the library was out of date. No new books had been added since the clan had been Silenced. But Ars still liked to come here. It was something to do amid the Silence. The loneliness. He guided Nadalin in and set her up with a book on a subject he knew she liked. He found his own book and settled nearby. The sound of their breathing and the turning of pages were the only sounds in the library.

“Ars.” His head jerked up at the sound of his name and he looked at his sister. He hadn’t heard his name spoken by another living thing in decades. He jumped to his feet and went over to her.

“What is it, Nadalin?” he asked, crouching by her, his gentle claw on her arm.

She ran her claw across the open page. “Do you remember? When our city flew?” she asked him, her voice like ashes.

“Yes,” he said softly. “I remember,” and he pressed his head against hers. “We went all across the southern part of the world, learning new stories, finding new friends. Do you remember that?” he asked her. She nodded slowly.

For a moment her claws tugged at the paper before relaxing. “I know they’ve all gone Silent. Is our engine dead?”

Ars blinked at her. He hadn’t been down there in any years. The last time he’d been down to the engine and seen Hezen was- was— was when he thought he was alone and he’d told him to take an egg with all the hopes of the city and find somewhere safe for it. He hadn’t wanted to think of it since. He thought that had been his sacrifice. To send the broken spirit and husk of his sister away. But even though he was old there was so much he couldn’t know. Or that the gods themselves wouldn’t just let a Progenitor leave their sacred duty to protect and preserve their clan. It had been a selfish thing to do. He’d wanted to suffer this alone, as he always had suffered alone. The Windsinger didn’t allow it. She’d come back to him.

Hezen had never returned after Ars had sent him away. Or Ars had never seen him. He’d never gone back down into the engine room too check. Too afraid of what he would or wouldn’t find.

“I don’t know,” Ars admitted softly.

“I think I… would like to see,” Nadalin said in her whisper soft voice, her claws starting to crumple and rip the paper on the book, her green eyes wide and staring like Ars was a ghost. Or maybe that she was a ghost.

“Okay,” he said gently. “We’ll go,” and he helped her up and they left the empty Central Library of Mu.

[xxdemonicheartxx]

Meet Vico! (They/Them Xey/Xem)

They’re Ivory Eye's newest scout and field guide, noting wether or not plants, animals, paths and local vistas are safe or not, their keen eye and swift feet make xem very efficient at the job at hand, pouches for samples and notebooks adorn their apparel to bring back reports and specimens to the clan scholars for more in depth study.

Xey are an understudy of Conundrum and Lavitra

Conundrum is The Drifter's main scout and Lavitra is one of the clan's couriers these two have shown Vico safe paths and helped them start most of their notes for the best comprehension and safest paths back home no matter where xey find themself

[pestilentbrood]

”mirrors originate from plague” “tundras originate from ice” “fae are from arcane” <- yep that all adds up that makes sense to me

“ridgebacks originate from lightning” “coatls are fire” “skydancers are wind” <- you’re lying you made this up. I can almost buy the last one but the others? Wrong.

[fr-thecollectors]

Kaiju [he/him] is the clan's primary healer. He was an outcast of his former clan due to his gentle nature, so he left one night a in search of the Collectors who he'd heard stories of. His wandering lasted for long weeks that seemed to stretch on, and on, until he finally came across the clan he sought.

[shoresofalibaba]

I love them both!

Lore below cut

"My eyes may be common but my wears are not!" -Hemlock

Hemlock is a sleezy, smooth talking, snake oil salesman. Pierre is an incubus and a follower of Azel, how did the two end up togeather???

Well Pierre and Hemlock were once locked in a battle of wits after Hemlock summoned Pierre during a ritual, upon realizing he was dealing with an incubus he put on his hat and began working his way around words eventually catching Pierre off guard and winning not only a favour but Pierres eternal service for whatever Hemlock desired...

And what did Hemlock most desire?

A lawyer of course! And who better than an incubus accustomed to living with copious amounts of contracts and deals to help bail him out. So Pierre was piled on with every single law suit filed against Hemlock with the instructions of...

"make sure I don't go to jail" -Hemlock

It took some getting used to, but eventually Pierre warmed up to Hemlock and found himself quite endeared to the raggedy trash goblin of a dragon. Hemlock was indeed a disaster. Clearly, only still selling faulty items for the adrenaline rush of deceiving others, and getting away with it. He didn't even really use the treasure until he met Pierre and Julius. Wich he then used to buy them basically anything they wanted whenever they wanted, as well as using it for bail treasure.

One mans trash is another mans treasure! and Hemlock will sell you total garbage at best, at worst? Just ask Astrophel.

(Astrophel belongs to @discountprophet-clan )

[pumpkin-bread]

Waking up felt different, that morning.

Hmm, no. That night. The sky - framed by gnarled, leafless trees - was dark, and the air was heavy. Rain was coming.

He propped himself up and attempted to clear his throat, only to be hit by just how raw his lungs felt. The air felt as if it was cutting deeper into him with every inhalation, and soon he was doubled over in a coughing fit.

It was only then that he realized just how awful he felt. Dizzy, heavy. What little he could see spun around him as he tried to take a full breath. A strange thought crossed his mind - that it felt like it had been a long time since he'd had to at all.

"Nonsense," he wheezed, shutting his eyes as he pressed his head against the frozen earth. It was probably just a hangover. It fit fine. He was fine.

What did he do last night? What did he do... before that?

Run his carnival, of course. His and Jack's.

It felt so long ago, but he couldn't recall a thing beyond that.

It couldn't be far. It literally couldn't - he was bound to it, after all. But where was Jack?

The sky rumbled, and the stinging on his shoulders let him know it was not rain, but hail beginning to pelt down.

He swore and felt around on the ground. Where the hell was his hat? Was he wearing anything? No wonder he was so bloody cold.

Cyval, the head of the illustrious Traveling Carnival, stumbled to his feet and hobbled through the dark wood.

It was time to get everyone together.

Time to get the show back on the road.

[pinkertons-transmasc-swag]

I finally finished a drawing of my dragon, Radio! It’s my first time drawing flaunt and it didn’t make me wanna rip my hair out as much as I thought it would. The hat is a simplified version of the one from the skin, Apiarist’s Dream.

Lore ramblings under the cut

Despite growing up surrounded by a particularly brutal group of wildclaws, Radio is a timid pacifist. He prefers flowers and gardening to other dragons and didn’t have many friends growing up. His best friend was his older sister, Vex, until she mysteriously disappeared one stormy night. Even though she was a high achiever and naturally good at combat, she was never arrogant and defended Radio at every turn. Everyone was sure she was fine, but he didn’t think she would leave without a word under normal circumstances. So he departed on a quest to find her and along the way he was joined by a gaoler searching for a similarly disappeared dragon, a strangely docile shade fragment and a skydancer with unclear motivations.

[frame-fr]

Fake scene of Justinian and Regulus' first meeting. I love them they are committing evil as I speak.

Written story and dragon versions below the cut!

I use their dragon depictions in lore. Since this is set to have happened a while ago, Regulus (sd) is in his earlier outfit (#2).

At the tavern he stayed in previously, when they heard Regulus was traveling to the Hewn City, they laughed in his face. They said he'd be dead by morning, that within the dense fog lay horrors that no dragon has ever survived. Annoyed at their laughter, Regulus simply dismissed the claims and set off toward the ruins. He had no business being there, but hunting ancient artifacts was the one thing he could do. Even years after the destruction of his family's reign, finding a goal in life when he was previously lacking one still proved hard - once Regulus had seen what dragons were capable of, how could he settle for something as mundane as happiness?

Alas, all of that thinking about the recreation of the world would once again come to rest in an empty, artifactless tomb. However, this day was different. It would appear the tomb was not as empty as Regulus originally thought.

Within the dusty depths, something stirred. A dark shaped moved - it was a dragon. The form of a wildclaw lifted itself from the shadows, it's spotted wings unfurling as it rose to it's full height. Lingering dust in the air filtered out any light from the entrance - the dragon was entirely in shadow except for the glinting gold from his jewelry and the shining light of his yellow eyes. Eyes which were turned directly toward Regulus. The skydancer took a cautious step back.

"And who might you be?" the dark wildclaw asked. His voice was deep, cold. It filled the room. He couldn't have been much larger than Regulus, but the sense of presence this stranger carried with him was so intense that the skydancer couldn't bring himself respond. The wildclaw walked a bit closer and added "You aren't of the sect. Are you perhaps a traveler? There's no need to hold your tongue."

Regulus still couldn't move, but he couldn't tell if his locked muscles were from fear or awe. The wildclaw was closer to the light now, closer to him. In the dust-filtered sunlight, Regulus could barely make out the dragon's appearance. The wildclaw's feathers were dark and he was adorned in jewelry from head to claw. This stranger didn't feel entirely... dragonlike - he was sinister, dangerous. It was as if the one before him wasn't a dragon at all, but some kind of deity whose tomb had been disturbed.

It was exactly what Regulus had been secretly hoping to find. His interest was piqued, and the very idea that he may have found his holy grail gave him the courage to finally speak.

"Regulus Iolanthe is my name. I am a..." he stopped for just a brief second. He hardly knew what he considered himself. "... I hunt for artifacts." The wildclaw raised an eyebrow at this, but Regulus couldn't stop himself from continuing. "May I... ask who you are?"

The wildclaw let out a small chuckle, "You needn't hesitate so much, Regulus. Let's do away with formalities... Simply call me Justinian." He stepped ever closer, and his golden jewelry shimmered in the dim light with every movement. "Your search interests me, Regulus. Just what sort of artifacts are you searching for?"

Hearing his own name uttered by this imposing dragon, by this Justinian, sent a shiver down Regulus' spine. Though he couldn't explain why, he was no longer frightened. In fact, he was emboldened. Although he'd always hid the real reason for his search from others, he felt that this new acquaintance would understand him far better than any other dragon could.

Regulus spoke with confidence. "I wish to bring about the end of the world, but I can't do it myself. There must be some ancient implement that could help me."

After a brief period of thought, Justinian's face twisted into a dark smile that revealed his sharp white teeth. "What an interesting desire," he mused. With one swift movement, Justinian suddenly closed in to where the two dragons' faces weren't even a foot apart. Regulus started to pull away, but he stopped himself when he saw Justinian's expression - there was neither malice nor mockery. Justinian's golden eyes, so close, were alight when he said "Searching in these ruins is a fool's errand. Our stars have aligned - how would you like to usher in my era as a new God?"

With that question, Justinian reached out his hand for Regulus to take it. The hand was darkened with scutes and long claws at the end - it resembled a bird's talons more than the hand of a wildclaw. It truly was Regulus' dream to create a new world, but he'd never considered that he didn't have to do it alone. He slowly, slowly, lifted his hand and put it into Justinian's waiting claws. Together they would achieve what neither could do on his own.

[cast-in-copper]

5 art dragons for sale, all with lore parents, all born on Valentines day! Taking offers on them, DM me on FR if interested!

[ceubic]

can i ask the fr heads in the the chat tonight which outfit looks better, im having trouble deciding who gets the singular (1) wc breed change 😓 i think i like the outfit for the purple+pink one better but i like the dragon underneath the green outfit more lol