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Saskya, a Scorchio Whose Story We Tell Now
By _Razcalz_

If you were to step
your cloud-damp feet down a
certain alley in the heart of Neopia's
hovering pale jewel, you would glimpse
a Scorchio of the quiet sort --
contentedly leafing yellowed parchment
ancient as Kauvara's first brew,
the hour of the Draiks' arrival,
and many things
of which the calligraphy whispers.

Her wings have never borne her
beyond the slivers of sky
where Faerieland's mists furl out
and gently claim --
yet her ever-growing, never-lost
mind of invaluable knowledge,
of names long forgotten by others,
has her soaring
as far as the scales of time.

But who is she really? A pirate
just beginning to return
to the sea-life that had been hers,
or a noble whose home
has always been among
the scrolls and serene clouds?

The story is not hers to tell
but ours to pen, and when our vision
is satisfied, her name will forever
be etched in our blazing
campfire of tales.

Ode to a Lady
By Togepi_forever

I come to tell you
Of a Scorchio fair --
When she enters a room,
The world turns to stare.

Her scales, oh they shimmer!
Radiant and bright --
And even in the darkness,
She radiates light.

Oh, that fair lady!
How I wish to know
What makes her scales shimmer,
Where she gets that bright glow!

Yet alas! I am naught but a
Poor blue Gelert lad --
Yet for one smile from her,
I'd give all I had.

If only I could be a
Great Gelert King!
If I could meet her,
I'd give everything!

I'd give her fine jewellery,
of diamonds and pearls
Brought from Maraqua and
Other great worlds.

Then perhaps that Scorchio
would stand by my side.
The Lady Rhiannon --
my heart would burst with pride!

For now, though, I simply must
dream while I can.
And beg for a few coins
To go in my can.

I'll buy her a present
for Scorchio Day,
And as she opens it, she'll
Gasp and then say,

"My dear sir, you shouldn't
have spent all this on me."
I'd look up, and then she would
smile down at me.

She'd look down, and I'd
know truly that we
Would be for forever,
And live happily.

By Larkspurlane

Under the moon the place
Becomes as drained of hues as he is,
He who dares not be colour
But this -- stark, withdrawn,
Deficient somehow,
Oscillating in this non-colour
Between black and white.

And the rain comes,
A good straight rain that drips
Dutifully upon leaf, twig, and thirsty root,
Monochromatic prisms in its wake,
Twinkles of light, dark,
And everything in between,
And leaves behind it only wet grass
Strewn with colourless flowers.

And under the moon the place
Becomes an enchanted one,
Mountains, black outlines in the dark,
Press against pearl-white clouds,
The flowers cleaned to white,
Their colours existing only as fragrance
And he existing only as lack.

Kelp's Maitre D'
By Dragonstorm_75

Kelp is booked with peckish guests,
Awaiting their delicious fare.
To be sure, 'tis worth a pirate's chest,
Really a wealthy man's affair.

You crane your head above the crowd,
There is the shine of mail!
Here comes Kelp's Maitre D', so proud,
In his golden coat of scale.

The Scorchio flips through his book,
Eyeing you all the while.
"Do you have a reservation?" was his look,
"Why yes, I am there in the file."

Suddenly his countenance alters,
A smile graces a stern, searching face.
The Maitre D' flicks his pale flippers,
And turns round with effortless grace.

You follow the bubbles left in his wake,
As the Scorchio leads you to your table.
It's a beautiful thing, a crystal opaque,
With a menu the colour of sable.

You turn round to thank your host,
A Scorchio lacking flamboyance or flair.
As the cloying scents of steaming and roast,
Your attention prepare to ensnare.

But as you speak, behold! He vanished,
A golden tail now there, now absent.
The unyielding assistance you just relished,
Now in the service of another.

Princess Rhiannon
By Concertogreat_8

In those days, the waiting days,
When the rain falls slowly,
The leaves drop from the trees;
Moon waxes and wanes,
So many hours pass,
Shades of time, wraiths of days.

Rhiannon, O Rhiannon

This tower of weathered stone,
Old and crumbling bricks,
Surely someday it will tumble down;
Every hour is closer,
For she who believes her prince will come,
Princess of the tower, faith so tried.

Rhiannon, O Rhiannon

Delusions in the wind that sings,
And the whispers of the sleet,
Battering against these tall walls;
Tragic tale unfolded in this forest,
Writ on boughs of wavering trees,
Spread through the realm.

Rhiannon, O Rhiannon

Reflections of hope in her eyes,
And in her voice sweetly singing,
Never faltering in belief;
O Scorchio maiden so fair,
Of all the land 'twas you the most,
And here are you now.

Rhiannon, O Rhiannon

Doirn's Lament
By Anjie

One, two, three, and four,
The days here never end.
Have a moment? I've got time,
So sit and listen, friend.
Doirn was my name, I think,
My memory, it grows dim.
By day fourteen it seemed to me
My luck was running slim.

My crime, you ask? As here I sit,
Locked deep in Skarl's own cell.
I told a joke, a bad one, see,
It didn't go too well.
The King must lack a funny bone,
He went into a rage!
His guards grabbed me and brought me here,
To languish in this cage.

Twenty, thirty, on I wait,
The days seem ever long.
I only told one little joke,
It wasn't SUCH a wrong.
Fifty, sixty marks I make,
Upon the chilled grey stone.
Each numbers day I've spent locked here,
Afraid and cold, alone.

For ninety days and ninety nights,
I've rotted in this place.
Forgot the sun, the moon, the trees,
The sight of my own face.
Oh sure, I'll laugh, or else I'll cry!
So weird doth seem my plight.
The humour keeps my mind so sharp,
No harm in joking... right?

The Green Scorchio
By Autotune

The green Scorchio's a friendly chap;
He flies across all the land
On fine wings that flutter and flap,
With a broad smile to all who pass.

He's got a twinkle in his eye,
As he greets everyone around.
And every time he flies you by,
He turns your frown upside down!

He's carefree, yet so caring;
Such a fine Scorchio is he!
Adventuresome and daring,
Intelligent and playful.

The green Scorchio's known by all
In every land under the sun
For his famous, heartwarming call
Of "Hope you're having fun!"

Maraquan Scorchio
By Ktkdk

She is a Scorchio from Maraqua.
Calmly moving each webbed paw,
Onward, the Scorchio swims with great ease.
Rarely do I see such beauty in these seas.
Cavorting and frolicking with great finesse,
Her demeanour is one of unbridled happiness.
In a moment, she stops her play.
Obviously my energetic adoration scared her away.

She causes my imagination to soar.
Chiefly, I wonder what she left me for.
Opalescent light will reflect from her scales.
Rapidly, she will flutter her muscular tail.
Cheerfully, she will go back to her den.
Her look will be absolutely radiant then.
In a second, her Petpet will meet her at the door.
Overjoyed, she will let out a cheerful roar.

Soon, Scorchios invade my dreams at night.
Can anything be a more welcome sight?
Obviously, Scorchios are my favourite pet.
Rarest and prettiest creatures I've ever met.
Call me crazy if you must;
However, if you give me your trust,
I will show you why they make me impressed.
Once you hear me, you'll think they are the best!

Scorchio Fire Marble
By Tealnova_dragon

Marble, marble, revolving slowly,
Innocently, calmly, riding a puff of air --

But inside the heart, with fires so deep,
And core so bright --
A single flame, flickering.

Marble, marble, spinning bright,
Tumbling, tumbling, wings alight.
May you fly, battle ready, soaring high.
Brightly, like that twinkling star, in the sky.

You obey no one, save just one --
The ones with wings as crimson as your own.
The Scorchio --
As you rest snugly in his palm,
Fires ignite, powers unite --

No longer are you for fun and games,
Or flying fantasies upon gusts and gales --

But the fierce fighter, weapon of fire --
Fit for but one,
You're a brilliantly shining
Scorchio Fire Marble,
A marble, shining bright, always shedding light.

Sir Runell
By Mamasimios

Sir Runell stood in steady pose
With bowstring taut and set to fly
To launch a stream of straight arrows
Directly to the target's eye.

He took a moment to look around,
Acknowledged the crowds who came to see
This Scorchio once again be crowned
Meridell's champion of archery.

For every year there has been held
A Grand Archery Competition
Hosted by the kingdom of Meridell
With the hosts winning by long tradition.

Sir Runell stole a look toward
Sir Korinesta, Brightvale's best,
And quickly dismissed this competitor
As no threat at all to his own success.

A dauntless grin spread on Runell's face
As hubris swelled his Scorchio heart.
The arrows flew, but to his disgrace,
The missiles missed, by far, their mark.

Sir Runell watched, head hung in shame,
As his opponent made his shots,
Knowing it was not his skills that were to blame
But to overconfidence was he lost.

Over Yonder Hill
By Sadinei

My prince will come some day,
I just know he will.
He will come from far away,
Over yonder hill.

I watch from my tower day and night,
Forgotten and alone.
Some day someone will hear my plight,
No longer on my own.

Rhiannon, fairest maiden in the land...
Once, but no longer.
What I need is a prince's offered hand,
To make my heart stronger.

That evil knight tossed me in here,
He left me to rot.
The tallest tower of his frontier,
My home 'til I'm forgot.

The Scorchio maiden, once famed,
Hair soft as cotton.
Rhiannon, that I was once named,
All but forgotten.

Some day my prince will come,
I just know he will.
And I know that he will be from
Over yonder hill.

Famous Scorchios of Neopia
By Shermaine124

It's that time of year again,
That special day when Neopia cheers,
When tens of thousands Neopets and owners
Come to celebrate a tradition of many years.

But, alas, what day could I speak of,
What might I be trying to convey?
Here's a hint: Two wings, a tail, and dragon scales,
A Neopet that's spun many great tales,
That's right, you've guessed it (I knew you would)
It's Scorchio Day, hip hip hooray!

So what could Scorchios have done,
To cause this celebration to have begun?
Is it their adorable big eyes that draw others in,
Or their fiery breath that definitely had them win?

Well, let me take you back in history,
Don't frown, don't yawn, I promise it won't bore,
These stories are steeped in darkness and mystery,
But also with fun and much of folklore.

Let's start with Magnus the Tyrannian Torch,
Who lives as an outcast in the land of volcanoes.
This Scorchio ain't one to mess with, my friend,
Some say his fire is as hot as lava (youch!).

Eye of Scamander, toe of Mortog,
Wool of Babaa, and tongue of Bearog,
Sound familiar? If not, read MacScorch;
Petpets Rights Groups have gone up against him,
But the Scorchio Alchemist does not cease.
What with his pursuits of turning lead into gold,
You've gotta admit, this pet's pretty bold.

Scorchios are not without their flaws,
Their great accomplishments do come to pause,
You've seen him on a popular game,
Stealing Neopoints was how he got his fame,
Step right up, Scorchio Thief,
Your cue's right on, now make your speech brief.

Hey, let's not miss out on one of many,
What about Simon, the richest tycoon?
Though he may not be the nicest guy on the block,
His ability for plushie-selling will give you a shock.

That's all the time I have for today,
I can't take up too much space, y'know,
And as much as I'd like to stay,
Goodbye, my friends, and Happy Scorchio Day!

A Scorchio, Wild
By Dadylman

The Poogle really did not like it,
The way that crazed Scorchio smiled,
The way his eyes swirled with disorder,
Why was that Scorchio so beguiled?

His hair was a nest of white fluff,
Bedraggled, dishevelled, and scummy,
The Scorchio's lab coat, no better,
His appearance was certainly crummy.

The Poogle was ushered closer,
Just what was he going to attempt?
Even though that devious Scorchio smiled,
The Poogle knew of his contempt.

"Welcome to my Lab Ray," the Scorchio said,
"It will give you super powers and great strengths.
Of course, it's not completely finished yet...
It might damage you at great lengths."

The Poogle frantically looked up
To the Lab Ray that loomed just above.
Being hit with that? There's nothing worse,
At least, nothing the Poogle could think of.

"Will you have a go?" the Mad Scientist asked,
"Come on, it will fulfill all your desires.
Does it hurt? Ha, how absurdly silly!
Those who say that are just liars."

The Poogle gave a slight nod,
A nod that he was soon to regret,
The Mad Scientist jumped about erratically,
"You've made the right choice, Neopet!"

A beam flashed from the giant machine,
The Poogle's skin! It was twisting into snot!
Oh, such great pain, it seared his skin!
After the ordeal, he just stood there, distraught.

"How could this have happened?!" Poogle cried,
"You tricked me!" he said with a roar.
"That's snot my problem," the Scorchio laughed,
And with that, he showed the Poogle the door.

Oh yes, the Poogle really did not like it,
The way that crazed Scorchio smiled,
The way his eyes swirled with disorder,
The Mad Scientist, a Scorchio, wild.

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