Dam: Gold Chauth
Sire: Bronze Ysgieuth
Number of Eggs: 10
Winter 2019

What Lies Beneath Egg
This ovid is a clash of vibrant reds and golds against black, a reflective shimmer that curls, and arcs, and reaches like licks of flame against an endless backdrop of ebony. White breaks the pattern of this shell, a creamy hue that leaves even more patterns against its shell: one that appears to be a rose in so much blood-red… and a mask.

A Shiny New Era Egg
Melding with the darker shadows of the sands, this large egg is wrapped in an aurora of deep amethyst and blue obsidian with hints of garnet. An avid explorer will find there appears to be a raised ridge that appears discolored on one side, enough that the garnet has brightened to a pale morganite pink crescent as though a talon has embossed itself there near the apex of the ovoid. The vivid colors are lighter near the top, and deepen towards the base until whorls of black can be seen engulfing the garnet and melting into the dark amethyst spire that rises towards the morganite crescent. Blue obsidian makes up the majority of the rest of the egg’s color, rich in hue and easy to miss.

Embers of Revolution Egg
Is that truly an egg on the sands? It seems quite questionable to be honest. There’s nothing round about this object. In fact, it looks more like a jumble of furniture than anything. Various shades of brown wrap around jagged ends and lumpy sides, as if pieces of furniture had been broken apart and thrown into a large heap. There’s a bit that looks like the leg of a chair and then something square-ish like a table. Perhaps even a cabinet? Strewn amongst the wooden appearance are several rectangles of color, as if hung like banners, on this large ovoid. Each of the rectangles is divided into three separate colors: red, followed by white, followed by blue. Some of these vibrant pennants look as if they’re mounted on poles. Ripples course through some, providing the illusion of movement that does not actually seem to exist. Upon closer inspection what looked merely like shades of brown from afar seem somewhat different up front. Interspersed between the neutrality are deep rivulets of red. It floods down some pieces of the egg, pooling in areas like a sanguine ichor. Did a candidate cut themselves on the egg somehow? No…but it truly gives off that appearance.

Everything Lime is Evil Egg
There is not a subtle thing about this egg - not its elongated narrow shape, nor its above average size. Most certainly not the color. It all but glows under the lights on the hatching grounds, like a froggy ferny cabbage this egg is unnaturally green. Lime green to be precise. The colors seem to shift and swirl like smoke, creating whirls and eddies that start to resemble distorted faces or shadowy masks if you look too closely or too long.

Far Beyond the Tip of the Aurora Egg
In shades of the purest white, pristine and gleaming, this egg rests mostly buried in the sands. Its size seems impossible to determine from the small portion that rests above ground. Yet, if one dares tread just a little bit closer, the subtle washes of the palest and purest colors become apparent. They shift and swirl, dancing across the glassy smooth surface of the egg in a phantom aurora of color. The reflective sparks thrown by the shimmering sands enhance this effect. In any other weyr it might stand out as an oddity, but the iridescence blends almost too well with the colorful sands of the hatching grounds.

Forgotten in Nowhere Egg
This egg is pretty unspectacular. It's oval, wider than the bottom than at the top, and its pattern isn't anything outside of ordinary. Cream-white is struck through in bands of light blue, some stripes thicker than others, with every other one marked by four thin strikes around it. It's innocuous and unremarkable, and rather plain — like a striped polo, except this, my friends, is an egg.

Mists and Ashes Egg
Standing out from its peers, Smoke and Ashes Egg has the singular distinction of being surprisingly tall and narrow despite being obviously ovoid. At first glimpse, one might consider it awfully dark and gloomy, but when looked at closely, a doorway to a place of phantasmal enchantment can be found. One where there is hardly no day, nor hardly no night, where there's things half in shadow, and halfway in light. At the base, hues of the deepest black stretch into lissome tendrils reaching into the star-flecked blues of its midnight center. Upon those towering peaks of darkness, shadows cavort, leaping from darkness to light quicker then the eye can follow. Crowning the egg’s starry expanse, wisps of pearl and smoke twist and curl as they billow outward to catch the light.

Illuminated Dreams Egg
While diminutive in size, this egg sure makes up for what it lacks in stature with pure pizzazz. A blossom of burnished gold comprises the base, subtle shading giving the false impression of dings and dents in the pristine surface. Over the broad belly, fanciful whorls of smokey silver embrace the shell, and within those swirling clouds, flecks of sandy gold glitter like small jewels - winking in and out of existence - as one tries to focus on them. And yet, amongst the metallic hues there is a splash of bright, as erupting out of the smoke, shades of azure and turquoise cling to the apex of the egg, drawing the eye up, up, up into a world of brilliant possibility.

Hatred for the Harper Egg
Poised and perfect, there is nary a flaw to be found upon this egg - its ovoid shape neither too long nor too squat, its shell carefully smooth, and the colors upon its surface clearly applied with great care. Darkest ebony sweeps in, cloaking the lower portion of the egg in the hues of the night, somehow unmarred by the glittery sands, while a ‘ruffle’ of white settles like a great collar upon the upper portion of the egg, settled effortlessly upon the curves, even and perfect. The only hint of color is a delicate, round spot of richest red, like a boutineer - a rose by other name that hardly smells as sweet.

The Egg Where It Happens
This egg is a study in contrasts, a shimmering, gilded shell interrupted by wild geometric black patterns. Stars are broken up by intermittent stripes, ones that encircle the egg at a jaunty angle that smacks of bravery and bold attitude. Jet black markings are only tempered by the rich gold of the rest of its shell, aureolin tones beaten and worn as a lucky coin passed from pocket to pocket. It's almost as if it were attempting to blend in with the sands around it whilst also trying to stand out as the place to be, the egg to touch and, frustrated by its inability to do both, it therefore accomplishes neither. It sits behind the others, ready prove itself, to show its worth, to take its shot and never waste it, but for now it'll bide its time. It'll be here. It'll wait for it.

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