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
IP: 208.123.4.239



As Onias felt watched by the mountains, Drogon had felt watched by his family all his life. The weight of their gazes and expectations had worn heavily upon his shoulders. Always his brothers had been there for him, to draw him back from the darkness that threatened to engulf him at every turn. When Daenerys had been defeated in battle, they had not followed her to Diveen to wait out the failed reign of the usurper - they had gone into the free lands to occupy their time. When Semele had vanished, the brothers had focused on their training. Sometimes Drogon wondered if her brief return had only been a dream, a vision, a figment a mind tormented by the ache in his heart. And finally when Daenerys had come within an inch of her life, once more they careened off into the free lands. It was no longer enough. Now the distracted ones were his brothers, and the behemoth of a male had escaped their watchful gazes - at least for a time.

Drogon's eyes narrowed as Onias seemed almost to study him. He was unaccustomed to feeling...dissected by someone's mere stare. Unconsciously, his hackles bristled ever so slightly. His ears flicked backwards, then forwards again. Rather than shy away from the searching nature of this male, Drogon's nostrils flared and he returned the gesture in kind. Despite his narrow build, there was something that spoke to a certain power about him. Though he was a creature of raw strength himself, Drogon knew that there were more ways than one to show strength. Whatever it was that this male possessed, it drew Drogon in. Even though his body gave him signals that something wasn't quite right here - the bristled hackles, the flared nostrils, even the gooseflesh that rippled unseen beneath his pelt - he took a single step closer as Onias echoed his name.

Garnet eyes remained narrowed, fixated upon this male that he had stumbled upon in his aimless wandering. The notion that this could be more than mere coincidence did not cross his mind. Onias lowered down onto his hindquarters, and in that moment something like a melding of each member of his family's voices told him to turn away and leave.

He ignored it.

Toes flexed against the hard surface beneath his paws, and then Drogon reclined into a sitting position across from Onias. For one who had never had a solid paternal figure in his life, it would make some sort of sense that he would be drawn to the assured and open nature of this male. His ears pricked forward as Onias spoke once more, posing drawn out questions to him again. His nature drew the simplest answers to the forefront of his mind - No, or I don't know - but he paused in thought for a moment. What purpose could there be to bring a light like Semele into his life, only for her to disappear without a word? What purpose was there to constantly throw his family into strife, a family who had only ever been peaceful and looked out for the best of the wolves who called the mountains home? "Why does everything need a purpose? Time turns on and on with or without a purpose." He was sick of the constant redirection of his 'purpose,' the distractions and the attempts to focus him elsewhere. For once he just wanted to be, perhaps without purpose.

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