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Welcome

The wind tears through your hair and whips the sand like a thousand tiny knives. The dunes roll along the coast in front of you. To your left lays an ancient forest. Just beyond the trees lays a dark magic. You can almost see the flow of the lay lines. To your right is a great lake, Kiko Lake. You can not see across the dark waters. The wind blows to the East, buffeting your face. You wander North in attempt to find shelter from the harsh border between forest and water. The sand falls away from your feet, the wind then picks it up to beat rocks into sand. The whipping winds, the beating sun, and the falling sand all work against your body. You go to drink some of the great and dark water. You scoop the liquid into your hand, it is clear and clean. You dig more and more and shove it into your dry mouth. The water burns your teeth with its chill.

You move on, you can not stay there. You walk to the North still, or maybe to the South, you can't seem to tell. Everything is hazy and spinning. You stumble over a large rock and vomit. You've lost your lunch and all your water. In desperation, you begin to cry. How long had you been walking? You should have gone into the forest and avoided the glare of the sun. You shudder violently but refuse to give in. You pull yourself to your feet, you need to wash off. You wade into the freezing water. You go no further than knee deep and collapse. Everything is dark but the water's top. Smiling with relief, you go numb. You were drowning in such shallow water, and yet it was so peaceful. Darkness takes you.

Feeling seeps back into your limbs as you slowly regain conciseness. You look around, you aren't back on the coast nor are you in the forest. The floor beneath you is soft like moss. Your throat burns for lack of water, you want the peace of drowning back. It is funny, you would have thought that you would fight drowning and yet… The sky is brown, no, not sky, you're clearly in some building or another, a hut really. Woven bark makes up the walls, the roof is thatched with bush-like plants. Groaning, you roll to your side for a better view. Your bed is made of dried algae, not moss. A leather bowl is by your face and full of water. Forgetting your experience with the lake water, you reach for the bowl and tip it into you mouth. Only half of the tasteless liquid makes it close enough to you face to drink, and even then only half of that makes it into your mouth.

You turn on your back and close your pained eyes. All too soon you are awakened by a low growl. Above you is a dull grey hissi. His eyes are glass and clear as are his long fangs and wild mane. His mane hangs like a normal mane, each hair is loose and individual, but each hair is also glass-like. He leans on his wings, terrible posture. He's snarling at you, and you're not quite sure as to why.

You is a fool. You don't never drink the lake water. Tha's askin' fer trouble.

His voice rings like chimes in the wind, quite a clash from his drawling accent. In the candle light, his scales shimmered. He was quite beautiful in full light. He hooks a bag with one of his clear horns and drags it close to you. Adjusting it with his tail, he pours more of the clean water into your bowl. You can feel his breath on your face, it smells of Kiko blood and various herbs. You pull away from him but can't move very easily. You start to squirm with fear of the dark and bitter hissi. He chuckles at your attempts. His intentions don't seem to be harmful, but you just can't seem to trust this hissi. You hear is stomach growl and cower with fear.

Why should I help you, huh? Why are you so special that you ought to be helped. Why ain't I eat chu?

This had to be a sick game. Yet his face was so close and his eyes so surreal. His actions bring you back to your time with a hunger demon. You doubted that Orffeh would eat you, he was pure of heart yet this one… The grey hissi chuckled, he seemed to know your thoughts. His eyes clouded to resemble smoky quartz and they gave him an incredibly surreal look. Fear clouds your mind rather than reason. You struggle to you feet and stumble towards the door. He raises a webbed wing in your direct path. His wing, when spread out, blocks your way entirely. You consider biting him, kicking, anything to escape here.

You is a fool! You don' know nothin'. You don' use yer mind either. If I was gonna eat 'chu, why would I bother givin' you water and nursin' you back? Huh? You ain't very smart.

His dark eyes burned into you. You tremble with fear at his powerful voice. You can't stop watching his whirling eyes. Slowly, ever slowly, you walk back and sit on the algae bed. He tears a piece of fresh kiko and holds it out to you. You shudder at the thought of eating a pet. He cocks his eye ridge. He sticks the kiko meat into his mouth and swallows it whole. You vomit a bit into your mouth. Through a bloody mouth, he begins to speak.

Kikos is good eatin'. I doan' know why you ain't eatin'.

He turns away from you and mutters something. A sleepy feeling comes over you. You fight it, this hissi was not safe. This hissi was barbaric. You struggle against this sudden urge to close your eyes. Slowly, the peaceful darkness takes you again. This time, however, you worry about waking up again.

You awaken to his murky eyes. Your throat is parched. He holds out a cup made of, well, you can't be sure as to what it's comprised of. You take the cup and down the water. Your head aches as does every bone in your body. A pain shoots through your back and you cringe.

I ain't much fer talkin' but you probably want ta know what I'm doing 'ere.

Statistics

Given Name Melloyellofelloz

Alias Deneb

Tribe Clearfang

Age appears old, but is a young adult

brush Rainbow

Coloration Dull grey base color with iridescent scales. Eyes, fangs, horns, and mane are clear like glass. Webbing between wingbones is a dark grey.

Personality Passive/agressive

Other Proclivity towards steam magic. Wields Second Sight.

Stonefeather

The Clearfangs had a legend that only those of bright colors were worthy, that those who were dull or runty should be cast to the mercy of the swamp. I was born in an unmarked area, a swamp with such reflective waters, you could see your image perfectly. The Clearfangs were an odd and superstitious lot, all the better that they're gone now. I was hatched from a dull egg. The egg was saved thanks to its iridescent properties, think oil on water. My mother and father were the target of many cruel rumors, my mother especially.

My mother was a plain hissi, dark grey scales with a pure white mane. She often wore pearly shells around her neck and in her hair to make up for her coloration. My father was a pale green with a navy mane. His wings were feathered, he was not a native of the swamp. The connection between my mother and father was disputable, none can say they truly loved eachother. It appeared as if they had picked the least ugly choices of mates. They say that a child conceived of love has the best chance of happiness, perhaps that is why I was never happy.

When my egg was presented, I was dubbed a "stonefeather," or a dull egg. I was to be tossed to the krawks. My mother pleaded for my life, and barely succeeded by showing my iridescence. I was to live, but I was to be forever an outcast.

Fire water

When I was hatched, I was rather non-descript. Other hatchlings avoided my cold stare. Our society had taught them to treat me with scorn. When they would follow my mother and me, I would whip around and screech at them. I would often roll up mud and toss t at them, chasing their cruel stares away.

I grew my horns before any my age, I grew faster than any of them. Perhaps it was my determination to prove myself, I cannot say. I can say that at that time, our shaman, Midnight (they all went by Midnight) was in need of an understudy. Many of the parents volunteered their children, but when my mother volunteered me, the tribe went to kill her.

My father couldn't stop the mob and fell quickly. They were out for blood and wouldn't stop until they had spilt some. My mother collected me in her coils and took to the sky. It was at that moment I realiszed she never loved my father. With my added weight, the tribe caught up easily. They nipped her wings, slowly tearing them. Yet, she never stopped.

My mother may not have loved my father, but I knew she loved me and I couldn't bear to have her lynched like that. With tears in my glassy eyes, I summoned fire-water. Fire-water was often consdered to be a weak element as it generally manifested as mist. In this case, however, I summoned extremely hot steam. Wings crinkled in the heat and the mob fell one by one.

Seeing the numbers fall, my mother banked and headed for Midnight's hut.

Midnight

The Clearfang shaman had dark blue scales and a pearly underbelly. She had dark, swirling tatoos along the edge of her underbelly. Her mane was also pearly, as were her eyes, fangs, and horns. Her horns twisted backwards with black chains that matched her tatoos. She spread out her wings when my mother entered. The webbng between her wings were a pearly white with the same tatoos.

Black beads dangled from her fine mane and hung in her face. "Deneb." She muttered the name and I crawled away from my mother. I stopped right infront of her. I was still very young, and therefore very short and came up to about half her height. All the anger had faded from me when I looked into her blank eyes. She nodded, "Yes, Deneb, you will do nicely." She pulled her tail around and encircled me with it.

I glanced back at my mother, she was extremely tired and seemed on the verge of death. "Midnight, take care." Midnight nudged my face towards her and a flash came about behind me. I was terrified for my mother but couldn't move. "Come, let us begin." She led me to a back door and up the levels of a tree.

Shaman's Underling

Midnight liked to laugh at me, she found it humorous when I'd fall or mess up. I'm sure my indignant frown was /adorable/, but I didn't spare her. I lived with her until I became an adult, she taught me how to read the bones of fish and other creatures and how to use a glass ball. When I first saw the ball, I was repulsed. Its stand was made of Clearfang horns and fangs. When I touched it, it would become murky.

I used it often, watching the world. I lost faith in the goodness of people, for I saw so much greed and evil. Altador specifically horrified me. I was shocked how hissi tribes fought each other with seemingly little reason. Whenever I saw something that was corrupt, my face would twist into a snarl. Midnight would brush back my mane and look dead into my clear eyes, and I would growl at her.

She often tried to get me to believe these people were changeable. I often asked her to show me the proof; why were clans murdering each other? Why was I so hated because of my coloration? But she could never answer. Or at least she never did. These questions burned in my heart much like the steam I brought forth.

Midnight gave me things like the black beads she wore on her white mane. "If you're not blue, which you're not, then we have to make you look like a shaman somehow." She would smile at me. She was the only tribe member that accepted me as a hissi, not 'the Grey One.' "If you look in bright light, you shine every color." She would summon a bright orb and let me see. It was true. I was iridescent. She never tried to tatoo me. She knew that the needles were painful and that I was mentally unstable.

I rarely smiled when she taught me how to harness the Second Sight and my steam powers. She was a shadow flame, a psycolocial magic wielder.

Kiata is one of the most amazing people around. I kid you not, who else would draw poor Deneb? And on top of that, she drew him more like I envisioned him than I could have.

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