A healthy sheen shines across Wergild's scales, far healthier than the dusty composure of an average DeathWing. His shade is a rich and enveloping black, like perfectly polished obsidian. His bones and mask greatly contrast the stark blackness with an equally saturated white, routinely bleached in a solution of RainWing venom and other chemicals, and frequently painted with a wide array of gaudy colors depicting ritual runes, or just fun patterns. His eyes are a light honey yellow, balancing his appearance nicely.
Besides his beautifully kept and vibrant show, there are many characteristics that keep Wergild from being DeathWing Island's Next Top Model. When his scales shine in the light, one might discover that many of Wergild's scales are chipped, cracked, or even split into several pieces. Reminiscent of rough times spent in an unhygienic isolation, many of his scales are tattered and improperly set. His talons, likewise, are sharp and jagged, even missing chunks of sharp bone in some places. Long gashes run along his underbelly; scars from the night that his parents died. He cherishes them, because they were proof to him that he tried to fight back. Since that night he also wears a necklace made from his parents talons. As his most prized possession, it is perfectly polished and well kept.
All of his flaws are subtle, though, and unless one looks closely, what they can expect to notice is his lean and slightly muscular frame, his respectfully wary poise, and a warm smile.
Toys and fun and games, these were the defining characteristics of Wergild's early childhood. Raised under wealthy parents, Wergild never had a wish or desire that went unmet. If he wanted a plush RainWing toy, or a new set of bone-paint, his parents would seek the finest craftsmen and pay hefty sums of gold for the new whim. One could say that he was spoiled, but he knew what was important, and cherished his connections to his family and friends above all else.
His parents' mass of wealth did not go unnoticed, however, and one night after the sun had fallen off the horizon, a few greedy dragons broke into their den to rob them. More afraid for their child than their gold, his parents came charging at the burglars. Wergild saw the whole scene unfurl and watched as his parents did not make it. A primal rage took over him, and he fought with a vigor and ferocity that his sheltered and untrained mind couldn't comprehend. When he was done, he performed a proper funeral for his parents, saying their rites and stringing their talons on a bit of animal hide as a necklace. He also kept the attackers' skulls and cast their bodies into the sea.
In their earlier history, DeathWings lived on an island on the far East of Pyrhhia's reaches. This island was home to them until a tribe of renegade dragons, under the name of 'DiamondWings' declared war against them, kick-starting many years of death and destruction. Though there is no surviving proof of what the "DiamondWings" were, they are rumored to be a band of cruel-hearted RainWings or GeodeWings. Some texts even suggest that they were hybrids of the two, although that adaptation was likely propaganda designed to make them more loathable.
As the war took on a less favorable turn and the 'DiamondWings' led a clear advantage, the DeathWings realized that they would be led to extinction if they did not evacuate and take refuge far away. The tribe totally evacuated in the dead of night, a massive exodus that managed to go unnoticed by the 'DiamondWing' scouts. They fled west and didn't stop flying until they went as far west as they could manage. They made camp in the Ice Kingdom, losing most of their group along the way, from exhaustion, natural causes, a rapid climate change, and at one point, disease.
The IceWing Queen at the time, Queen Arctic, was more than hospitable, and had her healers mend the suffering group of DeathWings on their shore. Without her help and support, the DeathWings would have likely gone extinct, but the IceWing climate wasn't easy on the DeathWings either. Used to a tropic climate, the chill weakened their nerves and their esteem. Arctic led the pack to an island off the coast of the Ice Kingdom, a region that was still chilly, but a bit more inhabitable for the weary travelers.
Over time, the DeathWings adapted to their new home, and very few kept record of their history and all that they had lost. Most DeathWings forgot about their old home, and new generations brought new customs and cultures, leaving the older ones forgotten by all but a few.
DeathWing Rites and Rituals (Heliosanctus's interpretation; NOT official)
Bones are a key component to the Ancient DeathWing rituals. The DeathWings never understood why their skull masks grew or mended themselves, and it gave them a fascination with the macabre. One key theory for the older society is that the bone masks contained the DeathWing's second soul, the first being stored in the heart. These two souls allowed the DeathWings to be in a state of balance, although the DeathWings did not understand the function of either or how they worked together. Other DeathWings suggested that the second soul was evidence of a third soul, and that these souls allowed them to be in harmony with the whole universe, the three moons having the same effect for Pyrrhia.
Because of this theory, a DeathWing believed that they must never separate themselves from their masks. Without this soul, a DeathWing's other soul(s) could not be at peace. When a DeathWing would die, they would be buried into the earth and their skull mask would be removed from the head and placed directly over the heart. Doing so would ensure that their afterlife would be peaceful and successful. If, however, the mask were removed from the dragon and cast aside, the souls could never be at peace. It is the greatest of insults to damn a DeathWing by claiming their skull mask after battle.
Talons, however, had no effect on the outcome of the afterlife, and could be removed without mutilating a corpse. It is a sign of respect to remove the talons of a loved one, and to hold them close by, whether by stringing them onto a necklace, or even by attaching them to one's own deathmask by boring holes and using an acid/calcium mixture as a sealant. Some DeathWings leave the three longest talons on the front legs, just in case their loved one might still need them.
The DeathWings also used many runes. They had many symbols that they believed had magical properties, whether to bring prosperity or luck, to curse their enemies, or to bring about some nice weather. The Bone mask was a common canvas for these runes because the scratches could heal. On the original DeathWing island, there was a library of stone steles, covered with runes of all sorts. This island hasn't been visited in centuries, though, and has likely been damaged or destroyed altogether.
DeathWing culture was also big on rituals and celebrations. They had many festivals to celebrate the three moons, and names for each one. They feasted and danced and chanted many incantations, and decorated their masks with brightly colored paints in different patterns. Primary colors were customary, but a combination of purples and yellows was only to be worn by the leader of the celebration.
A theory as to why the surviving DeathWings didn't maintain their old traditions is that they were losing a war, and their healing runes, curses, and celebrations didn't seem to have any effect. At one point, a particularly tenacious DeathWing decorated himself in jagged splashes of the purple and yellow, and created many new cursing rituals and runes, designed to immobilize the 'DiamondWings' and give them long and painful deaths. Most of the citizens felt guilty for the death rituals, and some felt that it was a sense of Karma when their escape to the Ice Kingdom killed off most of their members. Most lost faith in the old culture, and others felt that it had been perverted and was no longer worthy of practice. Whether or not the rituals were effective is unclear. The rumored 'DiamondWings' went extinct shortly after and their remains were never found.
Something closed in Wergild's heart at that moment, and he retreated from his friends. He left his parents' den behind and found refuge in a humbler cave a bit further off the coast. he took no possessions with him, save for the skulls and the necklace, and he set out to live in hermitage, often not even going outside to eat and settling instead for a diet of bats and large rodents.
Wergild's time in isolation did little good for his mental state. His once chubby stature and optimistic, joyful mind became quickly replaced by bouts of wrecking depression and a lean but ragged poise. He often slept in uncomfortable positions and threw all pretenses of hygiene to the wind. His scales grew ragged and chipped and coated in a persistent layer of grime, and his once lustrously white skull mask grew scraped and rough, taking on an unpleasant yellowy hue of tan. Grooves hung beneath the eyes of his mask; erosion left by miles of tears, and he acquired a savage and brutal disposition.
He hated his life as a hermit, but he couldn't stand to be around others, so he continued his dreary days and took his anger out on the skulls of his parents' murderers, smashing all but one of them into a powder, and scraping runes into the remaining one to give him good luck and to curse his enemies. Despite his depression and twisted talons sharpened and shattered against the rock walls of his self-inflicted prison, he never once tried to kill himself. He wanted to, and sometimes would trace the scars left from his parents' attackers a smidge too hard, but he felt like it would be betrayal to his parents, to want a fate that they had, but never would have wished on themselves.
Wergild had every intention of living alone for the rest of his days, but two major events changed his resolve.
The first happened when he was out on a stroll. The usual vermin he ate had long learned to hide in the depths of the cave or to flee, and the years of unminded consumption had quickly decreased the population. He was chasing a particularly large ferret when he ran into a RainWing for the first time. Rafflesia the RainWing was a bit short for a RainWing. His scales bore a near sickeningly-sweet reddish-pink color decorated with flecks of yellow, and a macaroni shade of orange crowning his horns and talons. His mouth opened in a goofy smile. As Wergild lunged for the ferret, Raffe jumped out of the bushes and started pestering Wergild about DeathWings and ferrets and the island. Not comprehending the scene, Wergild attacked the RainWing, with intent to kill. Luckily, Wergild caught himself before any permanent damage could be done, and Raffe's broken glasses and innocent expression brought compassion to the spastic DeathWing.
Rafflesia was a young and adventurous RainWing with red scales, yellow accents, and a big pair of crude glasses resting atop his snout.
He was most known for hs delightful personality and an amount of unconditional loyalty matched by very few. Rafflesia appreciates the simple pleasures and new experiences in life, and believes in the good of every dragon.
He left to go exploring when he was 5 years old and arrived at the DeathWing island when he was 13. During this gap between, he explored many of the kingdoms, including the Mud Kingdom and SpikeWing Kingdom. At one point, he met a close friend by the name of Sepsis, a DeathWing who, although he had a life style Rafflesia didn't enjoy, meant an awful lot to him. They eventually parted ways and Rafflesia was inspired to go to Skull Island.
He offered his cave to the injured RainWing and they quickly bonded as the wounds were tended to. Raffe helped Wergild clean up a bit. Raffe's kind RainWing personality and dog-like loyalty amazed Wergild, who had no faith in dragon-kind and had no qualms seeing one dead. With a mix of Raffe's venom and a few DeathWing chemicals, Wergild bleached his mask and bones back to the brilliant white that they used to be. He cleaned between his scales and set the chipped ones, allowing Raffe to apply salves and ointments to make them heal properly.
It was a routine of Wergild hunting and both of them healing each other that brought back a sense of peace into the lonely DeathWing's life. Despite Raffe's urging to interact with other dragons, however, Wergild refused to venture into occupied territory, preferring the isolated stretch of land that was his own. When Rafflesia was fully healed, however, Wergild reconsidered. He was no longer mangled and unsanitary, but a very slick and polished DeathWing. The RainWing remedies and companionship had made him more physically and mentally healthy, and he was no longer afraid of other dragons.
His encounters with his old tribe were far from eventful, and patterns started to form. The others were suspicious of who he was and he refused to identify himself, he discovered that Raffe was idealistic and thought too highly of other dragons, but what stuck out the most was that many dragons had a similar story. Gangs would form, of robbers, thugs, and assassins for hire, and many dragonets would find themselves on the streets- orphans, like himself, whose parents were victims of criminal circumstances. It struck his emotions, but although he could relate to them, he came to the conclusion that it wasn't his problem and that he needn't concern himself with others' affairs. These homeless dragons would eventually turn into the heinous criminals that put them in their situations, and any pity would be a waste of emotion. Werglid saved his feelings and kept his distance.
The other big change in Wergild's life took place when things got a little more personal. He kept going into town as a sort of addiction. Devoid of other life for so long, it filled him with a sort of rush to see the social system at its work. He kept his eyes and ears open and gradually started to listen in on gang members at their meetings. Eventually, he heard rumor that a band of thieves were going to do a raid on his childhood home. It had already been thoroughly looted, but Wergild set to put an end to that. He arrived at the den with a painted mask and ambushed the robbers. The scuffle only involved one casualty, and after it was over, Wergild took a long look at the place he had once lived.
Wergild decided then and there that it was his purpose in life to make it easier for those who share his story. He converted his childhood den into an orphanage and spent what little gold had survived the looters on toys and decorations. He invited all of the dragonets he had seen on the streets with a philosophy that if the dragonets got off the streets, then they would not get into the gangs. This was a chance to end the cycle of killing and crime and to give good dragons a chance that he didn't have.
He hired no additional dragons to manage his new orphanage, and allowed no adults who were not interested to adopt into the home at any time, save for himself and Rafflesia. He mounted the surviving skull of those attackers long ago as a reminder of what he stood for, still engraved with runes for good luck and cursing his enemies, still applicable in the more modern times. There was no resistance from other DeathWings as he maintained and operated his facility, but there was no support either. All the mind paid to his operation was that the citizens were glad to see those filthy dragonets off theirs streets. He never complained or corrected them either; he knew that dragons could be evil creatures, but the dragonets brought a sense of love back to his heart. He began to believe for the first time that a cruel attitude was a choice, rather than nature, and he had faith that his dragonets could overcome the shallow life that most of the DeathWings were trapped in.
An initial analysis of Wergild might call him a mystery wrapped inside an enigma, and that's probably not too innacurate. Any dragon who took the time to pay attention to Wergild would easily observe that he dabbled in paradoxes. One might have wondered why he seemed to carry a disdain for other dragons, yet converted his luxurious den into a home for orphans. One might have also puzzled why he smiled at seemingly random parts of speech, but remaining stone-faced when he heard a joke. It's also curious that he showed off his necklace at every chance he got, yet stubbornly refused to talk about it. The biggest question of all, though, is why, after many years of housing his orphans, and once the other DeathWings finally warmed up to him, that he got up and vanished, leaving the orphans, the mansion, and his best friend behind him.
To piece together the truth, we need to gather some facts.
Wergild was an altruist. He had firsthand experience with the dangers in the world and lived many unstable years hating his life and the other dragons around him. This hatred, though diluted, had never fully left Wergild, and had a nasty habit of showing up when he was surprised or uncomfortable. He used to loath adult dragons with a firey passion, and was ready to kill any who came into contact with him, as he demonstrated when he met Rafflesia and scraped him up pretty bad. In spite of the resurfacing disdain for other dragons, Wergild's sufferings gave him a soft spot for dragons who were hurting, lonely, or bullied. He started his orphanage with the intention of making a corner of the DeathWing island where the hatred and the pain didn't have to be felt. It was to be a sanctuary, and Wergild fancied himself in the sort of dragon role of Peter Pan, whisking his Lost Boys off to Neverland, where they never had to feel pain and suffering or become the heinous, murderous adults like the rest of society.
With all of his hatred for DeathWing society, a rage that might possibly be warranted, one might wonder why Wergild didn't just leave the island before. The answer to that is that he never had a good time or plan. When his parents died, he was too afraid of the world around him, and uneducated of the outside world. He then grew up in solitary confinement, wishing to encounter as few dragons as possible. When he met up with Rafflesia, Raffe talked about the things he had seen and the world outside their remote island, and when Rafflesia was particularly ill and feverish, Wergild actually flew off of the island. He travelled almost all the way past the Ice Kingdom, and then something pulled him back. He was running into unknown territory without a plan. Wergild likes to think he came back for Raffe, and perhaps that was part of it, but he went back because he was afraid.
It took Wergild a long time to warm up to the other DeathWings. In his mind, they were the worst of all tribes, a resolution that was probably fair. In his younger days, Wergild grew very introspective, and found some old scrolls about ancient DeathWing history. They filled a void in his life for part of his childhood, and he divulged in the fantasy rituals, the weather chants, and numerous curses. He learned to channel some of his bent up rage through them, and if the rituals would have worked, the DeathWing island would have been ravaged and desecrated. Part of his mental-training was to disassociate the DeathWings of the island with the DeathWings of ancient days. He loved the ancient dragons, and taught himself to pretend that dragons he talked to shared the same noble ambitions of his heroes. His social cues became a little off, but he managed to break past the hate barrier.
Wergild had always been scroll-smart, but he always found himself too introspective to be in touch with what he was really feeling. When he founded his orphanage, he thought that playing his role would fix all of the problems of DeathWing society. He thought that what he wanted was to make the whole world a better place and that the sheer satisfaction of doing so would feed him, and that then the other dragons would be friendlier and embrace the ancient mentality. Wergild could be idealistic to a fault and hated that part of himself. He would have rather appeared unsettling or menacing than to feel like he was made a fool of. When years passed by and he saw little effort from the rest of the tribe, he came to the hard conclusion that life would never change for the better. That he was a lost soul swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, and that the whole world was lost and stagnant.
Wergild had a shaky mentality. It was never hard for him to take a sharp dark turn or to become disheartened, but it would not do Wergild justice to look at Wergild's weaknesses and not acknowledge his light. Wergild felt a brotherly affection for anyone who was weak or hurting, regardless of the situation. He could motivate himself to fight the battle of anyone who was ill-fitted to fight for themselves, and he could strive on, even when he saw no reason to. Even when he gave up hope and let himself go completely, he was still able to fight on. When he finally met society again, he was able to learn to interact with them and learn social interactions that he was never taught as a dragonet. He was quick-witted and bold, and never let any other dragon tell him how to live his life. He was often the only one that he had to stand up for himself, and even when he hated himself, he wouldn't let anyone beat up on him or knock him down.
We will always remember him for his strength and endurance. He rolled through much heat and made a difference to the lives of others. Wergild wanted to end things the night that he realized that he couldn't change DeathWing society. He had a rather nasty plan concocted, but he couldn't bring himself to it. This time it wasn't fear that hindered his plan; he was just unsure that it was the best choice. He decided instead that he would go back to the original DeathWing island and research as much of their ancient past as he could. He would gather first-hand sources, fill the gaps in his history scrolls, and then try a new approach of changing DeathWing society. He believed that he could do it.
I guess when we look at it, Wergild died believing in a future; a concept that he could never grasp before. He believed wholeheartedly, even if only for a short bit, that things could be better.
Wergild's body was found a decade later frozen in a shallow lake in a rather unfrequented part of the Ice Kingdom. It was unclear whether he was returning from the ancient island or if he died before he could set off.
Rafflesia wasn't around to bury him, but some of his orphans had grown older and gave him a proper ancient burial. He was laid on his back on a wooden mat, with his head angled down over his neck. His mask was removed and placed directly over his heart, and his talons were removed, save for the longest three from each paw, and divided among the orphans. His parents' talons were pierced through his tail, which they curled up and rested gently against his mask. He was buried beneath the orphanage, in strict disobedience to his earlier request that he be buried in the cave which he spent his isolation in. Runes were carved along his scales and along his grave site, to allow for him to return in an etherial form and protect the orphans, though it has yet to happen.
To Be Continued...
(I sincerely apologize for misleading you... Wergild's "Personality" section is really a "Eulogy"... I think it's better this way, and I think it needed to happen. There are still a ton of points to roleplay from, and some openings to send Rafflesia on a quest for Wergild's work or to meet up with Sobriquet, an accomplished medium at this time. If you have any ideas, please let me know...)
"Ideas like networking and "the friend of my friend is my friend" hold little weight with INFPs. Friendships are earned on their own merit, by dint of the intuitive respect INFPs have for those with similar principles and values, rather than more practical alignments like those of coworkers. INFPs' tendency to protect their sensitive inner cores and values from criticism, especially if they are on the more turbulent side of the spectrum, means that acquaintances will likely get nowhere near them without sustained and tactful effort.
"But, if INFPs' shields are properly navigated and they decide to open up and trust another person, a strong, stable friendship will ensue, marked by passionate support and idealism, subtle poetic wit, and a level of emotional insight that is hard to match. INFPs' friends will be rewarded with calm, sensitivity and depth, and an ever-present desire to help, learn, and grow. But even the most confident and assertive INFPs will only be able to keep up this relaxed and present exterior for so long.
"INFPs will always need to disappear for a while, removing themselves from others so they can re-center on their own minds and feelings. Often enough people with the INFP personality type will emerge from this time alone having come to some momentous decision that even their closest friends didn't know was weighing on them, evading even the option of receiving the sort of support and advice they so readily give. Such is INFPs' way, for better or for worse."
Rafflesia: Rafflesia is Wergild's best friend and has an extraordinary amount of respect for him. He sees Wergild as interesting, generous, and seriously misunderstood by the other DeathWings. Wergild has known Rafflesia for most of his life and neither of them can think of a life without the other as a best friend, although they will end up parting ways. Although their personalities used to conflict, Rafflesia is glad that they met the way that they did, and describes Wergild unhesitatingly as "The Best".
Orphans: Although they would unanimously agree that Wergild can make them a bit uncomfortable and can be a bit grumpy, the orphans in his orphanage know that he would do anything for them, and they respect that. They feel safe and loved knowing that he cares about them, but they like Rafflesia more.
DeathWing Society: Wergild doesn't get close to other dragons, and most of the people in the society find that disturbing. Few of them know who Wergild is, and none of them care, so a mutual apathy for each other was formed.
A deep fruity reddish-pink color claims this RainWing's scales, with generous flecks of yellow pleasantly accenting them. Raffe may change his colors occasionally, but can always be found dressed in vibrant, gaudy colors. His horns and spikes are generally a mango-yellow, fading into orange at the tips. He has long ears, and bright green eyes shielded behind a large, dorky pair of glasses. His teeth are a blanched white and his tongue is blue. His scales are perfectly polished and perfectly set, bearing absolutely no chips or scratches.
His poise is slightly hunched and a bit clumsy, stumbling a bit when he walks around. His large wings are crisply folded back, and his tail curves down on the ground at an angle, giving him a nervous or wary appearance. Despite this, though, there is always joy in his eyes and a smile on his face.
Loyal and optimistic are two traits that define Rafflesia, and many of his friends are left wondering what they did to deserve the undying kindness and support of this true friend.
He has a personal philosophy that not only is there good in every dragon, but that every dragon has good intentions, even if they don't realize it. He believes that evil exists in the world because dragons think that it does, and if dragons believe that others are good, then all the world's problems will be solved. These personal philosophies are unwavering, and are part of what make dragons so comfortable around him.
Rafflesia isn't an impenetrable wall of optimism, though, nor is he completely naive. There are a few ways to shatter his idealistic nature;
Hurt his friends: Rafflesia would never hurt a fly. If his friends are being harmed, he will get in the middle of the skirmish and return a terrifyingly hateful glare.
Out-casting him: Rafflesia loves meeting new dragons and embraces new situations. He has no problem sticking out in a crowd, and has the patience of a saint. He can only take so much, though, and if he feels hated or unwanted, it can add up and take a shocking blow to his mental stability.
No sun time: Sun-time is important to any RainWing, and an unrested Rafflesia can prove to be a stark and unexpected contrast to his usual pleasant demeanor. He can become sharp, bitter, and even engage in sarcasm, a concept uncomprehended by his usual self. He doesn't usually remember these situations, but he knows he can get moody, and doesn't let himself get this bad.
As with the others of his tribe, Rafflesia was hatched in an unmarked batch of eggs in the Rainforest. Life without parents caused the hatchling very little distress, as there was no concept of independant parents or the branch of conditional loyalty that comes with it. There was instead a huge focus on community and the duty one dragon had to another. RainWings loved one other because they were other dragons, not because they had any possession over them, or at least that's how Rafflesia saw it.
The idealistic philosophies of the RainWings didn't work so well for Rafflesia, though, and he quickly proved to be very bad at virtually everything. He learned to fly a year later than the other dragonets, or at least to fly without crashing; his herb studies produced many near-fatal mixtures that led him to be kicked out of botany class; he tripped over objects that should have been easy to spot and even over nothing, and it grew abundantly obvious to the others that he would make a great target for their teasing.
Young Rafflesia went through a state of depression. The others would pressure him into dangerous races, trip him, spike his food, and call him a variety of names, and as bullying was a foreign concept to the RainWings, he had absolutely nobody to turn to.
It was five years later that a GeodeWing inventor had designed glasses. They were originally a failed experiment. The GeodeWing noticed that shiny surfaces could reflect light and tried to make a device that you could wear that would allow for easier sight in the darker, deeper cave systems. The experiment was cast aside upon its failure and eventually wound up at the home of a blind dragon. The crystal lenses were bulky, foggy and non-prescriptioned, but the dragon swore that there was some improvement and after much trial and error, the concept of glasses came into place.
One of the queens heard about this new invention from a sales-dragon passing through town. He rambled on about many animus-touched items and many new technological discoveries, and when Rafflesia crashed into the sales-dragon's cart, it was obvious that Rafflesia's problem was that he had problems with eyesight. The queen paid the asking price on the glasses with no negotiation, and Rafflesia finally had a chance to succeed in the world.
Other dragons may not have reacted the way Rafflesia did, but he didn't hold his pain over on the other dragons and he didn't hate them. They were reacting to something they didn't understand, and Rafflesia had the grace to give them another chance. His years with limited eyesight made Raffe very coordinated once he got used to the transition, and he was quickly beating the others at races and the teasing quickly stopped.
Although he didn't hate the other RainWings, he found it very hard to let himself get close to them. He still felt a bit of unease when they were nearby, and Rafflesia discovered his ambition to explore the super-continent of Pyrrhia.
It started gradually. He would visit the borders every couple days and cross on the other side, play around in the grass a little bit, and then return home. Eventually, though, he got comfortable with just camping out wherever he just happened to be when it grew dark, and he became little more than a wanderer who wandered close to home. He spent many days in the Mud Kingdom after meeting a friend, but eventually decided that he needed to explore further territory and see new places.
He found himself shortly thereafter in the Kingdom of the LeafWings. He loved how they looked and wanted to aquaint himself with their culture, but they didn't fully embrace him, and he found himself staying with a dragon named Sepsis, a DeathWing who just happened to be in the area on "work". Something strange started happening in the LeafWing Kingdom, and dragons started turning up dead. The LeafWings eventually realized that it had been poison, and eventually traced it back to a particular fruit that the victims had enjoyed. Rafflesia was filled with terror because he was a fruit conoscier, but Sepsis assured him that she was a DeathWing, and that they had special powers that could guarantee his protection.
It took most of a year for the LeafWings to figure out that it was not fruit that was killing their tribe members, but their friendly resident DeathWing. At first, Rafflesia found it incredibly hard to believe, but when he asked her about it, she told him straight out that she was an assassin and a hunter, and that she was paid large sums of gold in exchange for the LeafWing pelts. Rafflesia was greatly disturbed by this, but Sepsis agreed to stop killing the LeafWings. She did this because her cover had been blown and she needed to hide, but the sentiment was enough for Rafflesia and he left with her.
Sepsis had not told her supervisers of her problems and her hiding, and the dragons they had sent to collect the pelts died in LeafWing territory looking for her. She had now become a burden to her former employer, and she needed to get out immediately. Raffe insisted on accompanying her away, but she refused and dissapeared without a trace.
Rafflesia was welcomed back among the LeafWings, but felt sad for the ones they lost and didn't have the heart to stick around. He wandered to many Kingdoms over the next few years, and it was when he visited the Ice Kingdom that he heard rumor that the DeathWings' home, Skull Island was nearby. He went to the island in search of some answers about Sepsis, hoping that she was still okay, and never intended to stay as long as he did.
His encounter with Wergild nearly killed him, and left him bedridden for weeks. He had a strangely positive opinion of Wergild, who welcomed him in with hospitality and tended his wounds. When Rafflesia was finally well enough to leave the cave, however, he felt a sort of comaradity for Wergild and decided that he would stick around longer and help him out. He helped Wergild get his life back together, something that Wergild would never feel that he thanked him enough for, and he nurtured the idea of an orphanage. He knew what it was like to have a rough childhood and nobody to turn to, even if he didn't weigh his childhood troubles as important.
He and Wergild were best friends for as long as Wergild lived, but Rafflesia still tried to dig up information on Sepsis. After years, he finally located her family, and he spent many idle hours with them when he had no responsibilities to the orphanage.
The maddest Rafflesia had ever been was when Wergild announced that he would be shutting down the orphanage. Rafflesia was an idealistic dragon, but abandoning his loyalty to these dragons after claiming to understand what their life on the streets would mean really hurt Rafflesia, and he felt like he couldn't look at Wergild the same way.
Wergild explained that the orphanage was supposed to be a tool that they could use to change DeathWing society, but over the years they had it open, he realized that there was no lasting impact. He planned to head back to the DeathWings' roots; an island they had before they migrated to Skull Island. He wanted to bring back the ancient customs and cultures and felt that they could be a role model for future generations to live by. The plot was perfect in Wergild's head, although Rafflesia had his doubts. He didn't voice them, but he left when it had been 6 months and he hadn't heard back from Wergild. He decided that he wouldn't give up as easily finding Wergild as he had with Sepsis, and he wanted to track Wergild down and make sure everything was okay before it grew too late for Rafflesia to come up with anything conclusive.
Rafflesia wasn't in the DeathWing Kingdom when Wergild's body was found, and it took months before he heard the news that his best friend was dead.
"If anyone is to be found spontaneously breaking into song and dance, it is the ESFP personality type. ESFPs get caught up in the excitement of the moment, and want everyone else to feel that way, too. No other personality type is as generous with their time and energy as ESFPs when it comes to encouraging others, and no other personality type does it with such irresistible style.
"Born entertainers, ESFPs love the spotlight, but all the world's a stage. Many famous people with the ESFP personality type are indeed actors, but they love putting on a show for their friends too, chatting with a unique and earthy wit, soaking up attention and making every outing feel a bit like a party. Utterly social, ESFPs enjoy the simplest things, and there's no greater joy for them than just having fun with a good group of friends.
"Though it may not always seem like it, ESFPs know that it's not all about them - they are observant, and very sensitive to others' emotions. People with this personality type are often the first to help someone talk out a challenging problem, happily providing emotional support and practical advice. However, if the problem is about them, ESFPs are more likely to avoid a conflict altogether than to address it head-on. ESFPs usually love a little drama and passion, but not so much when they are the focus of the criticisms it can bring.
"ESFPs are incredibly likeable people who enjoy life's small pleasures, and hardly want for diversity in their partners. Enthusiastic and affectionate, with a pure and down-to-earth love that just takes things at face value, ESFPs are fortunate that they take the time to find someone they truly enjoy being with every day, rather than settling too soon for stability over happiness, only to lose both."
London: London is charming, stunning, and full of life and energy, qualities that Rafflesia highly respects in another dragon. Some may think he's full of himself, but Rafflesia sees that he's full of life instead and always willing to be supportive. He's a good friend, and Rafflesia regrets that he barely knows him. His strong charm and his pleasant positive demeanor reel Rafflesia in, and he's not fully aware that he has feelings for the umbrella wielding dragon. They have an RP here.
Sepsis: Sepsis was the first DeathWing Rafflesia had ever met. Rafflesia lived with her for some time and did not realize until after most of a year that Sepsis was an assassin, and that that meant that she killed other dragons for a living. Rafflesia still cared for her and lived with her longer after that, until Sepsis faced some complications with work, and Rafflesia no longer felt safe. He didn't want to leave, but Sepsis made the choice easy for him, and disappeared without a trace. Rafflesia went to the DeathWing kingdom a couple years later hoping for some sign that his friend was okay, but his inquiries led him nowhere, and he crashed with Wergild.
Wergild: Wergild is down to earth, and can be depressed and insensitive many times. His first meeting with Wergild resulted in Wergild clawing him to a crippled state, and nearly killing him, so other dragons may not take to Wergild as well as Rafflesia had. Rafflesia looks at Wergild and sees a generous heart to a dragon who is beyond incredible. Raffe sees qualities in him that Wergild doesn't know he has himself, and Wergild finds himself genuinely surprised whenever he discovers that Rafflesia's faith in him is warranted. There is a tight bond between Wergild and Rafflesia, and Wergild feels that he owes everything to him.
Orphans: The orphans love Rafflesia and he loves spending time with them. He tells them stories and plays games with them, and he's always the first to step in and comfort these dragons. Hatched in the RainWing kingdom, he knows what it's like not to have parents, and a part of him empathizes with them. As with Wergild, the orphans know that he would do anything for them (save for hurt another individual) and they respect him for that.
Other dragons: Every dragon who meets Rafflesia likes him, without fail. This may be because he makes an effort to interact with every single dragon he meets, and to invest time in them, or because his upbeat and nonthreatening personality puts them to ease. Either way, Rafflesia believes that everyone is good, and dragons usually live up to his expectations.
Note: The black-outlined regions were part of Wergild's original house. The blue-outlined regions were built on and carved. Most of the add-ons were built down into the ground and took extensive effort and dedication on Wergild's part.
The first room you see when you step into the manor gives an odd sort of feel to it. A large rectangular rug lays diagonally across the floor, and mismatched furniture lines the walls; an odd compilation of talon-crafted wooden chairs and plump cushions of an assortment of earth-toned colors, and small tables with no common design theme. A support column stands near the middle of the room, but doesn't actually touch the cieling. Wergild intended it to keep the cieling from collapsing all the way in case of an emergency or another eruption. Most of the orphans just find it rather inconvenient, though. A counter crops out from the back wall, built right between the stairs. In theory, one might use it as a place to sit at while welcoming guests to the orphanage or managing a log book, but although there is a check-in book and a bell, there are no guests and it's more of a decoration or a formality.
Once entering the foyer, you may head up either set of stairs aside the check-in desk to get to the playroom. Originally, this room was Wergild's parents' master bedchamber, but Wergild could never bring himself to sleep in their bedchamber, and eventually turned it into a playroom for the orphans. The architecture of this room betrays its original function, with cielings sloped and curved around a space for a bed, and two smaller carvings to serve as closets. Shelves near the cieling sweep down towards the would-be-bed space, and are lined with many stubby candles, and it is the only part of the orphanage that gets naturally lighting, being at the highest point of the house. Now there are toys scattered about the floor and in large woven baskets. Wergild never goes into this room, and it usually remains in a state of complete chaos until Rafflesia takes charge of the mess.
The Kitchen was the most awkward room for Wergild to set up. Wergild's parents had no need for a kitchen, since they, like most other dragons, ate their food shortly after catching it. This room was originally a storage room in an odly shaped side-cave before Wergild squared it off. When he adopted his orphans, Wergild had to create an entirely new method for feeding his dragonets. It would be impractical for him to dump a bunch of dragonets outside for each feeding-time; he wouldn't be able to assure their safety and the game would be scared away. He developed, instead, a method by which he hunted, Rafflesia gathered (and gardened, unbeknonst to Wergild), and they bought extra food from a market in town. Most of the time the food came alive, but luckily for Wergild, DeathWings are one of the few tribes who don't particularly mind eating dead meat.
This room is noted by tables made of cut stone and large knives to divide the larger meats into smaller portions. Stone slabs line one side of the room as a sort of make-shift "plates" for the dead meat, and bindings woven from tough plants lie in a basket at the end of a shelf to bind the live meat.
This room is small and dimly lit. It is filled with broken plates, and dead and live meat on slabs of salt. It is also home to broken furniture and other trinkets. Not much can be said for the room other than that it smells musty and is deceptively large.
This pair of rooms is marked by high-vaulted cielings and a polished Onyx table accented with Amethyst and other colorful stones. Cushions line the floor and candles line the cieling, and a crude chandelier hangs from the cieling, made by a particularly crafty orphan. The smaller room is for the orphans who feel crowded by the others and need a place to rest and eat more peacefully, although Wergild eventually closes it down when he discovers that it lies very close to a cave system leading into the volcano.
This used to be Wergild's bedroom, back when his parents were still breathing. Deep scars line the walls, a token of depressed rage from when Wergild revisited his old home for the first time. Now this room has an inconspicuous rug and some crude art hanging from the walls. To the right is Wergild's new room, and on the north side is a flight of stairs heading down, deeper into the Orphanage.
This room is Wergild's private quarters, and only he and Rafflesia ever go in. Unlike the rest of the rooms in the orphanage, Wergild's room is fully carpetted, made of intricately woven black furs. His bed is rugged and made of polished onyx. Accustomed to sleeping on hard ground for years, Wergild could never feel comfortable sleeping in a leafy nest or on the cushions he had made for his orphans. The rest of his room reflects his taste, and runes are painted on every surface of his wall in large sweeps of purple paint and finer streaks of blue. He has a stack of bones in a corner and a crude altar centered against the wall. Apart from that, there is no other furniture in his room or wasted decor.
This large section of the orphanage is full of equally sized caves carved in rows across from each other. Each of these caves has a cushiony bed, a rug, and a woven basket for personal possessions. A few orphans have added their own personal touches- mostly trinkets found off the streets- and a few even have bones or mini-altars like Wergild's. Each room has a rune of protection carved into it, and some of the younger dragonets have crude dreamcatchers hung above their beds. The story is that they were inscribed with runes that take away nightmares, but in all honesty, Wergild made up that particular pattern.
This room belongs to Rafflesia and the RainWing theme is present. There is a round bed in the middle, covered with large leaves and plants, and hammocks lining the top of the room. The counters are covered with herbs and exotic fruits, and there is one solitary "rune" on the wall, a poorly-sketched caricature of a dragon that appears to be holding an umbrella, which Rafflesia claims to bring sunny weather. Since its carving, two of the worst storms in Skull Island history have hit the DeathWing territory, and after spending weeks draining the water from his sun-room, Rafflesia had to build some drainage tunnels.
Hidden behind some large plants and a narrow tunnel, the sun-room is a sanctuary made solely for Rafflesia. It is open at the top with several yards of rock cut out in a perfect circle and lined with hammocks and woven platforms at all levels of it. Vines and leafy plants grow from many unkempt crevices and Rafflesia started a garden. At one point in time the orphans didn't know about Rafflesia's sanctuary, but it naturally didn't take too long for some to find out. A couple of the particularly rowdy orphans barged in and tore it up once, and the look in Wergild's eyes was gut-burning. He cast them out of the orphanage and made it clear to the other orphans that they needed to respect their RainWing caretaker, and now the only dragonets who enter it are gentler ones that Rafflesia invites. The same child that designed the chandelier found some reflective stones which he and Raffe set up on the various levels to make sure that the sunlight could reach every part of the room.