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Name: Brokade
Gender: Male
Species: Gryphon
Description: Brokade is a typical gryphon with the front part of a bird and the hind part of a large cat. The colors of his feathers go from red to burgundy to pink, purple and blue depending on the light. Personality wise he's just as changing as his feathers seems to be. One minute he can be cheery and sunny while the next he'll be angry and easy to irritate.
Place of Origin: Nexus Forum Birthday gift

STORY: A Tale of Disgruntled Beasts
Lahaurtith twitched her faintly glowing blue-with-green-swirled tail around and felt absolutely horrified. The cavern she'd been given was stony and bare. Of course it had the bare necessities but nothing that suggested they were happy to have her here. She'd been swayed by other dragons to come to Lantessama Isle at the Wyld Hunting parties over at Mythicalae but she would have thought twice if she'd known this is where she'd end up. 
"Why did I ever come here?" she said, sounding annoyingly pathetic.
Suddenly, a golden speck of light flew in from above. Goldwing had heard Lahaurtith's plight and was dissatisfied himself. His orange-yellow skin was annoyingly bright and noticeable and there were far too many people about the isle who wanted to make sure he kept out of trouble. But Goldwing liked trouble. In fact he loved the thrill it brought. When he'd first gotten to Lantessama things had been okay. Mischief had been tolerated to some extent. But after those shadow dragons took it too far the policing had grown unbearable. 
"I'd like to get out of here too." Goldwing told the dragoness as he landed on her shoulder.
"Then that makes three of us." a deep baritone added as Brokade crawled in from the cavern below.
The sunset-coloured gryphon had been dozing when he'd been drawn by the sounds of Lahaurtith entering her appointed living space. To be fair the gryphon wasn't exactly unhappy with his living spaces nor did he feel watched or encumbered. He had just had enough of the two other resident gryphons. All they wanted to do was form a club or get to know each other. Brokade was having none of it. They always came at the worst of times and after Iced Featheryness had impressed that flurry Rys-Hathian dragon all he'd wanted to talk about was how cute the damn thing was. 
"But where can we go?" Lahaurtith asked, "Haven't we come here to find a human to bond to?"
"Who says we need to bond a human?" Goldwing asked mischievously.
"We can stand for clutches." Brokade nodded, thinking at least Iced Featheryness was good for something aside from annoying banter.
"Will they just let us go?" Lahaurtith asked.
"They'll expect us to return. But who says we have to? We're free spirits." Goldwing urged.
"Do we even know of a clutch that would be appropriate? Somewhere that will be able to take us in and where we'd actually want to stay?" Brokade added.
"Somewhere rich and cultured, where we can make our fortune." Lahaurtith dreamed.
"Somewhere I can play to my heart's content." Goldwing added.
"Somewhere away from other gryphons." Brokade sighed.
"I know of a place." Goldwing said, his eyes thinning to slits as a draconic grin lit up his face with malicious glee, "I've heard some of the visiting dragons and even the Laedrys talk about a recent struggle with dragons from something called the Death Court who want to liberate dragon kind from human interference. They believe we should be free to do as we please."
Eavesdropping was about all fun Goldwing had had lately after all. And now all his sneaking about without giving in to the urges that might have gotten him caught was paying off. 
"Where can we find them?" Lahaurtith asked. 
"They've a hidden base on the Vella Crean."
"And the Laedrys is friendly with the people at the Vella Crean, she wouldn't be suspicious of us venturing there to stand for a clutch. We just won't tell her which clutch." Brokade said.
"When can we leave?" Lahaurtith asked.
"Why not right now?" Goldwing proposed. 

Brokade is a candidate for the Vella Crean adjacent Death Court Clutch

::Welcome again, guests and friends of the Death Court. Some of you have come seeking companionship. Some seeking alliances. To all of you I say today is an auspicious day. We have long fought alone against a foe who sees no harm in holding us captive. They teach our young to be dependent on them. They saddle us, throw ropes around us, and expect us to carry their burden. We have only ever wished to live in peace, as free dragons. This is a wish the humans refuse to indulge, and so we fight for our freedom. Each of you has your own reasons for being here. None shall be required to follow our creed after today. All we ask is that when the humans slander us, when they call us murderers and thieves, remember that we are the Death Court not because we kill, but because we were shaped by the death they bound us to. They sought to end us when we no longer became of use to them. Instead, we have taken that imperative they bred into us and turned it into our beacon of hope. We can survive without them. We will thrive without them.::
At the conclusion of Naxi'im's speech, a great tumult went up from the dragons of the Death Court who had squeezed into a spot in the cavern. Some of the guests looked surprised by the sudden blast of noises. Others looked amused.
Naxi’im settled down on his perch and turned his attention to the eggs. It did not take long for guests and Court members alike to follow his lead. At the first resounding crack from one of the eggs, all chatter, mental and verbal, fell away and the full attention of all present settled on the eggs.
Shortly into the hatching, five more eggs hatched. The hatchlings came together, exploring their immediate surroundings before they struck out toward the candidates.
The first to make a move was a pale yellow riddled with specks from Asimath’s clutch. She meandered toward the candidates, taking her time to sniff her way across the sands and examine each potential in turn. While she weighed her options, a brown sped past her and headed up to the collection of oddities from Lantessama.
::Lahaurtith, you dream of great things. I dream of them too. Take me with you, wherever you go,:: the brown hatchling said. Streaks of red, like dried blood, marked his muzzle and limbs.
::Of course, Cherolth. Life is going to be so much more interesting with you around,:: the Wyld dragoness replied.
About halfway through the hatching two eggs smashed into each other, spilling a pair of startled hatchlings on top of each other. Both hatchlings were green, though one was such a pale, wispy shade that she seemed sickly, and the other was such a vibrant shade that many spectators squinted rather than stare directly at her.
The two greens untangled themselves and split off in separate directions. As sickly as the pale one looked, she moved with surety in her steps as she marched straight up to the Lantessama group.
::You’re not a dragon, but you’ll do,:: the hatchling said to Brokade.
::How kind of you, Diondolth,:: Brokade retorted. He nudged the dragoness as she cuddled up to his side. ::You’re not a gryphon, so I guess you’re alright.::
Threads of conversation whipped back and forth between the Death Court dragons in attendance. One of their own had chosen a non-dragon. Was that normal? Did that mean they could bond anything? That was a terrifying thought. That was why they kept their children far from the human settlements.
And then only seven hatchlings remained by the nests, two purples, two blues, two reds, and a green. The lighter of the two blues moved first, angling straight toward a similarly marked green hatchling who had spent much of the hatching waiting halfway between the nests and the hydragons.
The green and the remaining blue were the next to break away. The green strutted up to the group from Kynn, her wings held high to show off the odd streaks of yellow marking her dark hide. She stopped before Erebos. Or rather, the shadow of Erebos that hovered over the ground. Tilting her head back, she looked straight up at him.
With a sudden twist and a dive, Erebos swept down and snatched the hatchling off the ground. A squeal of delight ricocheted off the high walls of the cavern as he rose back into the air, tossing her playfully up and down.
While Firmuyilth played in the air, her pale blue sibling headed over to the Lantessama group of oddities. He sniffed first at the gryphon, and then at the Wyldling, and then at last approached the brightest of the contingent.
::You,:: he said. ::You’re the one. You’re smaller than I expected.::
::Size isn’t everything,:: Goldwing retorted. ::You’ll see that as you grow, Gukanth.::
When all hatchlings had bonded, the last of which to a dragon who had a human bond and had severed his ties to her, Naxi'im stood and proclaimed: 
::Many of you came here today with memories of betrayal and abandonment from humans. Mark this moment well. Ymeth has long served the will of the humans, though his heart lay elsewhere. They ignored his pain, used him against those he loved, and though we wish it had not come at such high a price, we could not be prouder of his accomplishments today. He stands before you a free dragon. Humans have long walked away from dragonkind, careless of the impact, but today, we walk away from them!::
A cry went up from the dragons of the Death Court, shaking loose dust from the ceiling as their voices joined together in a roar of celebration. Naxi’im let the sound wash over him, rejoicing in the fury of his Court. Then he lowered his wings and looked down to Ymeth. The Death Court King bowed his head to the blue dragon.
The death court dragons then chased out the small blue imperial dragon that had been sent to them on a mission of peace stating that only when humans had suffered as much as the dragons had that they would allow peace to exist. 
At last, it was over, and Naxi’im raised his head once more to give the final announcements of the day.
::Congratulations one and all. It warms my heart to see so many new links formed. Bonds that will undoubtedly stand the test of time. Whatever path you take beyond this day, know that you stand as friends of the Death Court. And as friends, we welcome you to share in the celebration of such a momentous occasion.:: Naxi’im paused as cries of excitement and roars of delight shook the stone beneath his feet. ::My Court has worked hard to provide for today. Outside you will find a feast befitting an army, a river cool and swift, entertainment the likes of which you have never seen before. I invite you, one and all, to celebrate as only we are capable!::
The tumult grew so loud that Naxi’im could scarcely hear himself think, let alone understand the flurry of conversations whipping from mind to mind in that moment. He lowered his wings and watched as Death Court and visitors milled toward the exit of the cavern. The air around him sang with joy.








Poison cloud green


10” (Adult: 10')


Naxi’im and Asimath


Straightforward, Knowledgeable and Welcoming


Death Court dragons do not follow traditional means of ranking. Rank in the Death Court must be earned. All hatchlings begin with no rank and will attain a rank once they reach adulthood. Almost all Death Court adults begin as squires. 
Death Court ranks: 
Squire, Charger, Knight, Knight Commander, Grand Knight Commander, General


Telepathy: the ability to speak into the mind of others no matter the distance.
Teleportation: the ability to travel to distant places. 
Fire Breath: the ability to ignite secretions and expel them from the throat. 
Blue Fire Breath
: a sticky, phlegm-like substance that is ignited by the dragon’s fire breath prior to being spit out. This fire burns blue and will stick to any surface it comes in contact with. It can float on water and will reignite after being smothered if it is still hot. It is very difficult to remove and will stain any surface that survives contact with it. 

Diondolth who's colour had been dubbed poison cloud green, had grown up to become a radiant example of free dragon kind. She was a pale green with brighter markings and wings. Though her personality was gentle and welcoming, she still showcased the pointy horns and ridge that told anyone who laid eyes on her that she was, in fact, in charge. So if she chose not to eat you, you should be happy about it and go out of your way to please her. 
Next to her, Brokade was much smaller, but his warm red-purple sunset hues shone beautifully. The gryphon had been the talk of many when he'd first arrived but now, after the original death court hatchlings had grown into adulthood, he had proven himself a true addition to their creed. 
Given Brokade's shifting moods, others had found that it was probably best to stay out of his hair (or feathers) and that would mean the least trouble. Those gryphon beaks packed quite a punch after all. 
"A little more to the left." Diondolth urged.
She had opened wide, the skin of her muzzle stretching to accomodate Brokade looking inside. 
The gryphon's head was fully obscured by the dragoness' mouth and both his front claws were inside.
"Here?" he asked.
"No, my left." she clarified.
Brokade turned the other way and sat to work.
"I don't see anything stuck between your teeth." he remarked.
He'd flossed between all of his bond's teeth but nothing had come loose. So Brokade shimmied backwards and dislodged. Diondolth had tried every trick in the dragon handbook to clean her teeth but nothing had seemed to help.
"I don't know what to do..." she sighed.
"Tell me more about what you're feeling." Brokade suggested.
"It's like something's stuck inside me. I don't even know if it's actually in my teeth. I just feel that my jaw has been tensing a lot lately."
"Anything else that's changed?" Brokade tried, "You are adult now so could it be some residual growing pains? Something that needs to settle?"
Diondolth straightened and Brokade knew his bond had thought of something.
"What?" he urged her to share.
"It must be my mating drive." she said with a swish of her tail, "I was so stuck on looking for a solution I didn't consider the thought that it might be something natural." 

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