Susil Crags

Disaster has struck!
The Crags are a series of rocky formations with small caves and crevices throughout. Many of the lower-lying areas of the Crags have been flooded, however, with water pouring in from the Northern stretches of Moladion. Some paths have been completely submerged, and some are nothing more than a few rocky peaks sticking out of the water. The water is fairly slow moving but begins to pick speed up towards the Grotto, becoming a series of intense rapids and waterfalls as it nears the Grotto's entrance.

The area itself is still traversible. However, it can be risky. Large amounts of debris can enter the waterway, creating bridges at times but also creating dams that break and cause ocassional flash-flooding. Be careful, travelers! One wrong step and you could end up finding out where the water goes.

Note: Susil Crags will return to normal once 25 posts have been completed (or at Staff discretion). During this time, new threads will receive a 'Surprise','Disaster', and prizes.

Return to Lunar Children

dark wings, dark words

What it was that kept Drogon rooted where he was rather than moving to carry on in his aimless wandering, the immense black wolf could not be sure. Boredom, most likely, but perhaps intrigue as well. Something about this wolf seemed...different. And though Drogon was not the investigative type - that was typically left to his brother Viserion - something about this stranger seemed to draw him in. Perhaps it was a life led always in the light, a family known for their honorable nature and regal demeanor, while all his life he had known there was a darkness within him that he'd never acknowledged. Subconsciously something about this male tugged at that part of him that he'd always kept locked away. The part of him handed down through the blood of his father.

For now, however, Drogon did not understand that part of himself, or how this male might affect him. He was simply drawn in by the difference of this male from the rest. A change from the usual. Brows furrowed at the cryptic response given to his rather simple question, and yet laid into it was something he understood. After all, who was he, other than the son of a queen? A man damned by the blood of his father. A man cursed to walk the world alone, perhaps to pay for the sins his sire had made against his mother. Born into the light, but containing a darkness to match his pelt.

Stepping down to even ground with the scarred male, the movement of his fur catching the light and causing the crimson streaked across his ribs to glean. At the moment, who he was seemed unclear. Was he still the strapping son of Daenerys, born to the mountains and forever to belong to them? Or had his home become a prison. Always having had been a man of few words, he answered much more simply than the other had. "Drogon," his deep bass tones rumbled, giving only his name....for now.

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