Dragons Cove Competitions and media, {poetry} {short stories} {series} {articles} {images} PRIZES

Desert chasers are cool


“Put him there, where we can see him.”
A gruff voice filtered through Syntribos’ blurred thoughts. The dragon wondered briefly where he was (and why everything smelt like musty potatoes), but before he could stretch and question the matter further, he felt himself sliding off something as whatever he was on tipped up on its side. There was a shredding noise as he dug his claws in, then something whacked him on the back and he slid onto the floor with a thump and a yowl of protest. This wasn’t right! He was supposed to be curled up in a nice ball at the bottom of a sand dune, not stuffed in a potato sack and unmercifully dumped in some place he hadn’t signed up to be. With an angry snarl he unsheathed his claws and ripped at the bag he was stuffed in, setting to with his teeth until the sack lay in shreds and he sat in an annoyed and slightly ruffled state on its remains. He looked around the bright room he sat on, glancing behind him to see he had been brought in on a cart. A faint pleasure came over him when he saw he had left long scratchmarks in the wood.
“Ah, we were going to let you out ourselves.”
Syn’s eyes settled on a man sitting rather awkwardly on a richly furnished chair a few feet away, looking put out at the carnage the dragon had just made of the bag. The desert chaser’s eyes glittered as he stared the man down, rising to his feet and pacing towards him.
“Where the hell am I?” he growled, the end of his tail twitching angrily. Nobody, least of all a human, would tie him up in an old bag and get away with it. A movement to his right caught his eye and he stopped, staring at his reflection in the big mirror that hung on the wall. Oh you handsome devil.
“Caspan. We have some questions we’d like to ask you.”
“Caspan? You’ve gotta be joking! That’s like, three days from the tip of the desert!” Syn exclaimed, appalled he had arrived in the little village without even knowing it. Either the desert had grown, or they had used some seriously powerful drug on him. He narrowed his eyes. Someone was going to get eaten for this.
“Only if you’re going slowly. We’ll get you back to the desert quickly; that’s why we need you.” said the man, leaning forwards. Syn flicked an angry glance at him then went back to admiring his reflection in the mirror, listening to what the man had to say with a casual interest.
“A few days ago my son went wandering in the direction of the desert. He’s only eleven, I’m concerned about him. Have you seen him at all?” He sounded worried, and with good reason. The desert was a dangerous place to be if you didn’t know your way around, and that was before you had to contend with man-eating monsters like Syntribos.
“Oh, the poor morsel.” Syn stood and padded up to the man, trying to put on a worried expression. It probably still looked pretty predatory, but hopefully he wouldn’t notice. “I haven’t seen him, but of course I’ll be sure to try and find him now. What does he look like?”
The man gave a short description of his son, Syn listening carefully and ticking off all the features that he hadn’t recognised in his latest meal. No, he was sure he hadn’t eaten the boy- which meant there was another tasty morsel running round his territory. Yum yum! He had to stop himself from licking his lips in anticipation when the man had finished.
“Of course, if you find him, there’ll be a reward.”
Syn’s ears perked up at that, his eyes glowing. “What sort of reward?”
“Anything! I just want to know where my son is.”
The desert chaser gave a sly smile. “I want dinner. And that shiny thing.” He flicked his thick tail towards the mirror where he had been admiring himself.
“Done. Any dinner requests?”
“Meat. Make sure your servants are fast on their feet.”

==X==

At a steady long-distance run, it only took Syn a day and a half to get back to the edge of the desert, and he was glad it only took that long. Grass and dirt under his paws felt wrong, and he had spent ages pulling burrs out of his coat on the few occasions that he stopped. It was dark when he hit sand but he kept running, his eyes scouring the low dunes around him for any sight of the little figure he was trying to track down. Some other dragon better not have gotten to him first and eaten him, or worse, rescued him.
A few hours into his search he called it quits for the night, curling up on his side with his big brush-like tail folded over his face to keep out the sand that occasionally blew past. He would get in a few hours kip, then pick up the search early morning while it was still cool. And then… and then he would get the most divine lunch he could ever hope to ask for.
With such a delicious prospect in front of him, he fell quickly asleep, his dreams pervaded by the thought of human prey in his claws.

==X==

He was rudely awakened by a scream, then a whimpering, wailing noise that came from a way away over a dune. It was probably nothing, just the remnants of a nice dream he had been having…
Wait a minute, he wasn’t dreaming! Syn suddenly sat bolt upright, sand trickling out of his fur from where it had blown over him in the night as he swivelled his ears towards the sound. Maybe it was the kid! He leapt to his feet and started out in the direction of the shouts that he had heard, trotting quickly over the dunes with his long, characteristic stride, shaking his paws free of sand every now and then.
As he had hoped, a few dunes over he saw the telltale signs of a human having passed by not long before. He followed the prints with a growing excitement, his pace unconsciously speeding up as he anticipated finding the person at the end of it.
“Aww, the hell?” he suddenly came to a halt at the top of the next dune, the tip of his tail flicking angrily. The boy was at the bottom of it alright, but he had managed to go and walk right into a patch of quicksand, and was struggling helplessly as he sunk further and further into the slippery stuff. He flapped uselessly as he saw the dragon, yelling and trying to swim over to the edge of the patch of quicksand, but only managed to make himself sink further.
“Help, please help! I can’t get out, I’m stuck!” shouted the boy, his words laced with terror. Syn sighed and padded slowly down the dune, lingering over his pawsteps as he inspected the boy. You certainly couldn’t miss him; flaming red hair and pale skin, paler than the burnished sand all around them. He looked like he was quite tall for his age too, with long lanky arms- good, more than just a starter course. He padded down to the edge of the quicksand, sitting down on his haunches and curling his tail over to preen the thick dust-brush that lined its sides.
“In a bit of a pickle there.” He said conversationally, running his teeth along his tail.
“Can you get me out, I’m stuck!” whimpered the boy, reaching out his hands to try and grab hold of the dragon. The desert chaser gave him a disgusted stare, drawing his paws back out of his reach. “Every time I try to get out, I just sink more.”
Syn looked at him coldly. “You shouldn’t have got yourself into such a mess if you can’t get out of it.” He sighed and rolled his eyes as the boy looked at him in horror. “Wiggle your legs and move towards me. The sand’ll let ya go.” And then there’ll be a proper meal, not just a snack.
The boy did as Syn said, and with a little more help from the dragon he eventually managed to make it to the edge of the patch of quicksand, dragging himself up onto the hand ground. His clothes were stained with sand and he was worn out, but in one piece. Syn eyed him up and down as he struggled to his feet, then tried to scramble out of the way as the boy launched himself at the dragon, throwing his sandy arms around his neck.
“Thank you! Thank you!” he cried, squeezing Syn round the middle. The dragon recoiled, sticking his tongue out in distaste as the boy covered him with sand- ick, it would make his fur itch for days! The boy took little notice of his distaste, still thanking the dragon until Syn suddenly swiped his legs from under him and pinned him to the ground, his ears back and his lips pulled into a feral grin.
“Ah good, you’re in one piece.” He said, keeping his paws firmly pressed against the boy’s chest. The boy gave a weak smile.
“Can I get up?”
“No.”
“Pleeeease?”
“I think your father’s going to be pleased he doesn’t have to put up with you any more.” Syn said, annoyed by the boy’s whining already. He didn’t have much tolerance for other people. The boy’s eyes widened as it suddenly clicked that he was in a lot more danger than he had been before, and he tried to scrabble free from the dragon’s grasp. Syn only pinned him more firmly, digging in his claws. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll be escaping from me.”

==X==

It took Syn nearly twice as long to get back to Caspan again, but he always ran slower after eating a big meal. He wasn’t in a particular rush to get back to the dreary town anyway, and in his opinion, he had had the best of the little deal he had struck already. The only thing that drew him back was the thought of claiming his second prize- that shiny mirror. Yes, it would definitely look good propped up on a sand dune (but of course, he would look better).
Luckily, his sense of direction was pretty much perfect, so finding the house that he had been taken to a few days earlier was hardly a problem for the desert chaser. He got some funny looks as he padded up to the door, his ears flicking back at the sight of so many humans. No, he told himself, if you want another meal, the middle of the day is a bad time to try and catch it.
As he padded into the hall which he had met the owner of the house in before, a servant dashed off at high speed to fetch his master, making the dragon wait quietly by himself until the man appeared. Syn didn’t really mind being left on his own; more time to admire his reflection, and less temptation in the form of humans.
He turned to look at the man who entered in a rush, his eyes eager and searching for the form of his son. He drooped as he saw Syn was alone.
The desert chaser shrugged, trying to look morose. “Sorry, he got eaten by quicksand. That’s got to be a first… Can I have my mirror now?”

Her jaws snapped together with a crunch and a displeased hiss, yellow eyes narrowing on the carnage spread out around her. Was this it? The slayer, built to monolithic proportions in her own mind, had died after only a brief battle, the man’s pulverized body hanging limply from her jaws. Vythiweiah let her jaws snap all the way shut, two arms and a leg falling to the ground with a sickening thud. She paid no attention to the bits of corpse, swallowing the rest of the body as an afterthought and digging her long yellow claws into the ground.

She thought she would get more satisfaction out of killing the damned man, the pain of his sword slicing through the thick scales of her neck as a young fledgling still a twinging ache when she thought back to that horrible day. She bore the scar still, a white patch on her green scales where the color would never return and were rough and jagged. She had been lucky to survive, but her mother and fellow nestmates hadn’t been as lucky. Only one remained now, Anækileya, the two sisters tighter than blood for the hardships they’d seen together. The other clubtail was picking over the remains of the village they had destroyed, the small fishing town comprising of about twenty or so humans had been little challenge for the two when they descended on the pathetic little thing with murder in mind.

Perhaps the slayer had felt that he was safe in this remote corner of Dragons Cove. Perhaps he had been too foolish or to arrogant to consider that perhaps one of the dragons that he failed to kill would find him seeking revenge. With an indignant snort, Vythiweiah decided that it was probably the second. What did these pitiful two-legged creatures know? They thought themselves so supreme, masters of all on land and in the air…

Rage built up explosively, and her tail smashed into what had been a mostly-whole fishing shack. It exploded with a rain of splinters and hay, scattering as the heavy plate-covered tail tore through it easily.

This was not enough. The life of the slayer, the life of the others that sheltered him… Simply killing them was not enough to sate her deep-seated thirst for vengeance. This problem needed to be fixed, the disease that slayers were. The infection of their disgusting kind that split families and murdered innocents. That’s when it came to her. A plan that would oust the wretched curse and spare other dragons from the suffering and indignity that she and her sister had suffered at the hands of these weak fleshy creatures.

Stepping without heed over the broken smashed and burning refuse left of the tiny village, Vythiweiah paced over to her sister’s side, taking her attention away from turning over bits of wall in the hopes of finding a live human crouching underneath like a bug under a rock. “Come sister, we’ve work to do.” She grumbled, her voice thick and low when she butted her head affectionately against her sister’s shoulder.

Skeptical, Anækileya raised her head and pinned Vythiweiah with a curious look. “What are you talking about?”

“This is not the end of our hunt.” Anækileya grinned at the declaration, her bloodstained teeth showing in the feral smirk. “We have a mission, sister. This slayer isn’t the last, nor will he be the last. Not as long as these humans and elves and whatever filthy creature continue to roam and defile our land.” Taking a few steps away, Vythiweiah spread her wings, stretching them out fully with her gaze tracing the rays of the falling sun. “We will see each of them dead, you and I. And there will be no one that will stand in our way to cleanse this country of their rot.”

Chuckling with a laugh that was tinged with all sorts of ill-intent, Anækileya spread her wings as well, her feral grin still very much in place. “Sounds like a fun plan. Where do we start?”

Parting her jaws in a grin of her own, Vythiweiah lifted her nose to the air and took a deep breath. “There’s another settlement a few miles north along the coast. Let us see what their mettle is worth.”

Where to start on the perfect castle for Dragons Cove?

Guess it'd be best to start with how it'd look:

Grey stone exterior
Towers
Plush carpeting in bedrooms and tile in bathrooms and kitchens
Lavish tapestries and original DC art on the walls
Lots of secret passages just for the fun of it
Massive walk in fridge for maximum muse-food capacity
A front-lawn-covering flower garden for an extra pocket of natural beauty
Billiard room with non-alcoholic beverage bar for those nights when loud boisterous singing is needed for muse sessions (and gaming)
An indoor pool
A muse chamber that includes an art room, a posting room, and a room stocked with various sweets and other sugary things
Dragon statues all over the place of various breeds
Crystal chandeliers of all colors in major dining rooms and sitting areas
Three flagpoles outside the front door with each faction's standard waving in the breeze

Personal Quarters:

Red walls with gold accents
Paper lanterns en masse variety of size and color hanging from the ceiling
A simple mattress on the floor with soft dark purple cotton sheets
Incense burners all over the room and zen music playing all day long
Dark cherry dressers for clothes and a matching desk for musings/important papers
A ton of colorful bird/nature photographs on the walls
Rich sandy colored carpeting


Now on to the vacation/to-do list (so much to do and so little time, in no specific order):

Make sure Hydra doesn't melt
Keep Rintho out from under the bed
Feed Mirage regularly (Heaven forbid she find a DCer to snack on!)
Avoid being crushed by Clubtails and/or getting stomped by Andyr
Celebrate birthdays as they happen
Instigate arguements between Atoro and Andyr
Eat cake with Hone and act crazy-hyper afterward
Bug the daylights out of Baldasarre by asking far too many questions
Attempt a conversation with Zartear
Catch Zack and cuddle him
Convince Geronimo to be social
Avoid letting Kvinna near shoes

That concludes most of the major things on the list I do believe. Hope this was interesting to read!

Out of fear of Rogue eating me, here is an entry XD

Well, everybody knows that the only way to get into Dragons Cove is from the sky, so as expected the summer begins with a scenic flight on dragon-back. Of course, the trip wouldn’t have been complete without seeing the landscape, so there is a quick sightseeing-flight around the island before reaching the castle. Well actually, ‘castle’ is too ordinary a term really – epic-house-of-super-awesome-fun fits much better. From the sky, the castle appears as everybody’s favourite purple eyebrow smiley (), but it’s actually made up of 42 individual towers (not only is that the /answer/, but it’s also the number of epic people that have been invited this summer!). There’s a landing paddock for the dragons just outside, with a big courtyard on the ground floor for them to shelter in, but never mind about that – it’s the inside we’re interested in!

The ground floor is all open-plan, and has all the shared rooms in. There’s a nice big cooking area (with a pantry full of chocolate digestives, bread (for toast, as I believe some of the dragons are very partial to it) and marshmallow fluff, among other more normal foodstuffs), and a huge dining room, with one of those long, narrow tables that really fancy houses have. Then there is a ‘chatbox’ section. It’s wallpapered with that comforting dark-blue we all know and trust, and is the perfect place to meet other members, as well as some of the charming characters of Dragons Cove (just keep an eye on the guy wearing a full face-mask, and the village idiot pretending to be a knight). There’s also a big chalkboard for queries in there – we’ve named it ‘Steve’ since it serves as a mini-chatbox for anyone you can’t find. Next there’s the muse rooms, where you’ll find a dragon-sized thesaurus, a dictionary and then stacks and stacks of unusual objects to trigger that muse. However, the best bit of the ground floor has to be (drum roll please) the procrastination station!

The procrastination station is the heart of the castle really. It has all sorts of things to catch your eye and put you off whatever you’re supposed to be doing. For example, there are exactly seventeen glass figures hidden around the place to find when you’re bored, and the wallpaper on the side-wall is made up of over 3000 memes. The library is attached to the procrastination station, and contains precisely 7,463 books too – heaven for those of us with limited books at home! You’ll also find crafty bits-and-bobs in this section, as well as a huge supply of sewing stuff (including a ribbon-room especially for Rogue) and enough wool to knit a scarf for the whole castle (hey, there’s an idea!).

From the open ground floor, there are staircases leading to each of the towers – labelled of course with the name of the person who will be staying there. These have been decorated to their owner’s requests, so naturally every tower is different. My tower has a spiral staircase, with each step painted with a different colour and pattern, which leads up to one big, open room at the top. There is a huge window, with a view that reaches all the way out to the everbridge, which has an extra-wide window ledge especially for perching on. The wallpaper has pale blue lines, with a little red ‘margin’ line from floor to ceiling by the door, so the whole room can serve as a notepad, and I’ll keep a selection of multicoloured paints out in case I want to add pictures/doodle for some reason. There’ll be a big, circular desk right in the middle of the room, with drawers and cupboards underneath for my stuff, and a roll-out mattress to sleep on (with a mountain of cushions and blankets for nest-building). The carpet will be patchwork, and I’ll have loads of different coloured beanbags for slouching/guests. There’ll be a little cubby-hole in the wall for keeping my bonsai collection in, and (of course) a deluxe rat-run around the edge of the room for all the rats I’ll keep (just a little bit deluded ).

And there you have it: the best summer ever. ‘Nough said

1.

He stood in a room full of strangers toasting to his health and, he imagined, secretly plotting to dethrone him once the war was won. He couldn’t name more than one face in ten, and pretended to enjoy all the conversations he found himself a part of. The longer he remained in the room, the more he wanted to leave, but the festivities were in his honor, and he supposed it would be rude if he left in the middle of another recount of how Captain Whatshisface defeated the corsairs upon the ship WhoKnows. He searched the sea of faces for a familiar one, hoping to be rescued. He spotted the Tactician, but the man was engrossed in a conversation and waving to him would be too obvious.

2.

He stood in a room full of colleagues and underlings toasting to the King’s health and, he imagined, trying to work their way up in His good graces. He knew everyone by name, and initiated most of the conversations he’d been a part of. He spied the King staring blankly into the crowd as Captain Hadanna spoke of his victory over corsairs on the Ship Svedmila, one of the many belonging to the fleet that sailed away from Old Surahnia. Poor man, he was much more at home leading an army, or slaying monstrous beasts. He watched as the guards changed positions and smirked at the fact that the Swordsmaster had bothered listening to him after all. He would have rescued the King, but his curiosity had been piqued as the topic moved away from the war and settled on the need for a decent mapmaker.

3.

He stood in a room full of his betters, watching as they celebrated the King’s birthday. He was one of a squadron of twenty designated to guard the Feasting Hall, and relished the overtime he’d earn for working on a holiday. The guards rotated positions, and he followed suit, moving to a spot where he could see both the King and the Tactician, both engaged in conversation. He scanned the room, spotting a grinning bowman amongst the wealth and rank. He could have been among them, one of the fighting class elevated like a noble, but it was far too much work, and far too difficult to maintain. Besides, he’d lose what little time he had with his daughter and that was inconceivable.

4.

He stood in a room full of liars and soldiers, watching as they celebrated the King’s birthday. He was a bowman, but he wore both the yellow and white armband which marked him as both an Elite and a Hero. That meant he got to attend the function as a guest and not a guard, not that he’d have taken guard duty on a holiday. Despite the overtime, it wasn’t worth watching others loaf off while he had to remain vigilant. He drifted from conversation to conversation, working his way nearer to his friend. The man was surrounded by intellectuals, which was really typical of him. He couldn’t be bothered with anyone who couldn’t hold up their end of the conversation. He was a few feet away from his friend, captured by a conversation about nothing in particular because it was rude not to stop when one’s name was called. He had a smile on, dimples showing, and laughed at the right times, but his eyes were on his friend’s back. Wide and strong, a Tactician, but once a fighting man and would always be at his very core. His smile faltered as he realized his friend was deeply engrossed in a conversation with a Lady. He looked away from his friend and back to the faces of people he hardly knew. He excused himself as politely as he could and decided he didn’t want to be there, in the hall, celebrating the King’s birthday.

5.

He excused himself as politely as he could and decided he didn’t want to be there, in the hall, celebrating his birthday.

Totes nominating Skeloph for this one.

On the outside, Skeloph is a woman of the people, a person of high moral standings fit to serve in the high council of Dragon's Cove. Her position was obtained through association (to her father, namely), though she preaches it was through her own hard work and determination. Beyond that, she is very self-important, focusing entirely on keeping her lofty position more than anything else. Her appearance in front of the masses is planned and scripted, giving empty promises to keep the people in blissful ignorance. I'm not saying she's the only bad council member (coughcoughinnacecough), however she stands out for how much she tries to hide her flaws. Soooo yeah :L

I nominate Gerris. While Lyvas may have raised him to be a killer, he was born an egotistical narcissist. He's incredibly vain and incredibly proud. He doesn't think like a dragon, desiring a life of ease at the expense of others. Self centered and unabashedly cruel, he's also a coward. He will take the easy way out nine times out of ten unless there is a goal he wishes to achieve. He enjoys killing, however, and the distance others give him for being a fume. Gerris also looks at people and dragons for what use they can be to him, and quickly discards people or dragons who he believes are a burden. Despite Lyvas's careful tending and attentive training Gerris killed him because he doesn't like being bossed around. If he ever caught wind of Lyvas's resurrection, he'd hightail it quickly, or try to get the ME to attack Kaionar in an attempt to be rid of him, uncaring of the losses the group might incur because of the endeavor. It's a good thing the Clubtail Sisters are so protective of their pack.

And just in case you didn't think he was an utter piece of shit -points down-

Quote :

Gerris had joined the Maledictus Eice because he'd had nothing better to do. Seriously. A band of marauding dragons had appealed to his most basic desire of killing. However, it turned out to be some kind of justice movement and he wasn't in for that. Being part of the Maledictus Eice was like being part of a brainwash, no rationality, hormonal youth group and it not only made him feel old, it made him feel alienated. He did not want the death of all non-dragons because that was detrimental to easy living, and Gerris was not a dragon eager to return 'to the wild'. He counted himself as an enlightened individual, and enlightened individuals bathed, groomed, and did not sleep on dirt floors.

Ingredients:
- 3 non-authentic dragon eggs (chicken eggs are fine)
- 50 ml (2 fl oz) milk
- 175 g (6 oz) self-raising flowers (those where the Hedgecats come from are best as they flower all year round)
- 1 rounded teaspoon baking powder
- 100 g (4 oz) softened butter
- 275 g (10 oz) caster sugar (if Artemis is eating, cut out this ingredient. She’s allergic.)

To taste:
- 1 vial of the blood of your enemies
- Adorable and fluffy penis
- 3 packs of Chocolate digestives
- Toast (if Ithelle is around)

Method:
1. Get a clubtail to mash together all the ingredients in a bowl until it’s kinda smooth. Make sure you remove the eggshells at some point.
2. Throw it all into a tin. Make sure Sinyaya doesn’t eat all the batter before it gets cooked.
3. Bake on the back of a lava dragon for 25-30 minutes (if native Dragons’ Cover), or 50-60 minutes (if Surahnian). Make sure you get that nice brittle, blackened texture if you’re cooking for Surahnians. For natives, the cake should be golden and squishy. Tip out onto a wire rack and brush the crumbs onto the floor for hovering butterfly dragons to eat.
4.  Crush digestives and toast; mix with the blood of your enemies and pour over the top.
5. Decorate with lash dragon feathers and tiny replicas of the five Stones. Sorted!
6. Check to make sure there are no hiding Card dragons before cutting and eating.