Flipperflap

Featuring Serroya and Doristay (NPC)

Spring, Year 757 of the New Age

Silver Vale, Silverthorne

    Sunlight shone down onto her flaming hide, warming the swirling oranges and reds of her coat.  Wide eyed she stared up at him…blinking…waiting.   Doristay sighed.

    This fawn of his, Serroya, loved to see him summon fire.  Joyously, she would leap and play and cuddle with the dancing flames.  Endlessly gathering sticks and leaves and old beetle shells, she’d bring a number of forest trinkets to him, wanting to watch them burn.  In any case, it was good for him to practice his magic, but now he was tired, and needing rest.

    As he stared down at the little filly, hopefully presenting leafy green bough, he pondered how to tell her no.  Maybe…if he ignored her?  Maybe then she’d take the hint.

    The great stag turned his head from her, gazing out over the sunlit meadow.  His does grazed peacefully, fawns bounding about in reckless cavorting.  A butterfly floated on the breeze, flitting from flower to flower elegantly.  It was all so peaceful…

    He was abruptly startled from his thought by a jarring impact in his shoulder, and Doristay turned to see Serroya withdrawing, preparing to head butt him again.  Again, she rammed into him, eliciting a grunt from the stag.  She looked up at him hopefully, raising the stick to give it to him.  Serroya was persistent, he could give her that.

    “Serroya, no.  Daddy’s tired, his inner flame needs to rest.”

    Blankly, the little filly blinked at him, uncomprehending, before smiling and offering him the leafy twig.  She didn’t understand his words…or their meaning…or…something.  Tiredly, he let out a long, drawn out sigh.  Keeping watch these past nights had been taxing, he thought, closing his eyes.  Predators seemed extra keen on his fawns this year, frequently he would find their scent trails circling their safe little haven.  Even now, he couldn’t rest.  Glancing to the sky, his eyes scanned restlessly for vultures that might swoop down and steal a fawn.  The sky held more than the gods.

    Serroya bleated, nudging him for some recognition.  Groaning in exasperation, he rolled over onto his back, lifting his legs into the air.  He had given up for any peace and quiet, but perhaps he could get in some relaxation while he performed his task, “One more flame, Serroya.  One more, and then daddy’s taking a nap.  Got it?”

    Serroya excitedly bounded close, dropping the twig on his furry, barreled chest and stood, staring in eager anticipation.  Quietly exhaling, Doristay closed his eyes and turned within himself to his inner flame.  He could feel it flickering and warm in his chest, and carefully, he began to coax it to life. 

    However, Serroya gasped in delight, and before he could process its meaning, the stag felt something alight on his nose.  Startled, he snorted in surprise and snapped open is eyelids.  There, poised delicately on his muzzle, was a bright blue butterfly, flapping its wings.  Open, shut, open, shut, open…SNAP!

    He jerked back his head in surprise at Serroya’s movement, staring blankly at the crushed wings sticking out from her lips.  The child beamed at him proudly, slowly opening her mouth to drop the destroyed butterfly on his chest.  Okay then, that was…

    Suddenly, Doristay pricked his ears, an idea beginning to form in his mind. 

    Smiling down at his daughter radiantly, he practically purred with pleasure, “Why, Serroya!  What a good warrior you are!  You just saved daddy from a horrible fate!”

    The little filly widened her eyes in disbelief, and he nodded emphatically. 

    “Oh yes, you did.  See Serroya, that creature is a…a flipper-flap,” the stag decided, smiling at the ridiculous word, “And they are evil.  One hundred and ten percent pure darkness!”

    His audience captive, he began to get into it, embellishing, “True bringers of doom and destruction, they seek to take over Silverthorne and rip King Baratheon from his throne!  Oh, many ignore them, these evil servants, but you!  You have seen through their ruse!  You’ve seen the true nature of the flipper-flaps, the bringers of agony and despair!”

    “And it is you,” he stated gravely, staring at his daughter, “That must bring an end to their reign of terror!  Alas, my strength has been drained by this foul, blue-winged demon!  I am unable to continue on, and must rest to recover my strength.  But as you go forth against the darkness and its flighty minions, remember that you’re serving the King my dear…the King and all of Silverthorne…”

    Her wide eyed stare and gaping mouth was all the evidence he needed to know that his words had struck true, and he chuckled gently at the thought, “Perhaps if you prove your strength, they might even come to make you King!”

    Doristay didn’t think it possible, but Serroya’s eyes went even wider at that statement.  Leaping to her hooves, she gave a determined bleat and stomped a hoof, looking around the meadow for any threats.  Immediately, she spotted a butterfly flitting through the air across the great expanse, and with a scowl, she charged towards her flying foe. 

    The stag watched in wonder at the fiery gusto she attacked with, snapping at the air as the creature flew and stomping her hooves menacingly.  She chased after it…this way…that way…racing higgledy piggledy all over the meadow in pursuit of her quarry. 

    At one point, Serroya froze, squeezing shut her eyes in concentration, and he wondered what she was doing.  Then it hit him.  Magic.  She was trying to summon flames, like he did.  He chuckled, the deep rumble echoing through his barrel chest. 

    It would be many years yet until she was ready to talk to the flames in her soul…many years until she was a warrior of Silverthorne.  Still, he thought, watching as she attempted to stalk stealthily after her beautiful winged prey.  He’d let  his daughter dream…let her fight the flipper-flaps…let her be a child before the harsh land made her into an adult.

    He glanced around, seeing the does nod at him affirmingly.  They would keep an eye on her as she went about her antics.  Sighing, he happily lay down his head and closed his eyes, settling in to a well-deserved sleep.  As he drifted into a dream world, he was brought to a time when he was young…when he too chased after butterflies…when he dreamed of being a soldier...a warrior…a king. 

    How much everything had changed…


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1058 words and 1 art
+3 magic 


Aaaand here's the beginning of the flipperflap business!  I needed to post this first, as soon I'll be posting a roleplay referencing this knowledge.  I'll be posting in a more current time period soon as well, so less "background building" roleplays and more "what's happening today" roleplays!  Yay!   


For the roleplay group