I peered into the abyss, and the abyss peered back.
He scoured me for weakness, and found none within me.
He looked for a crack in my armor, but he could not pierce me.

I fell to the darkness, not due to his strength, but due to his sinister tongue. He meddled my mind, and struck me down with not blows, but words. When I wavered, he tore into me.

The Clan of the Blue Maiden was my charge, my newfound home. Lightweaver blessed me with a Charge in the strangest of lands, the Plagued Wastelands, and a home that was full of wonderful, lively dragons. They made the Plaguelands into a haven for the occasional, wandering dragon.. they took me in without question, gave me food and water and made sure I was comfortable. And I, in return, guarded these sacred halls.

There was one Spiral that put me at unease, but I passed it off as traveler's fatigue and fried nerves. I thought I was overreacting; how could evil dwell in such a blissful place? I should have trusted my instincts... because not long after my arrival, the walls of my blessed home were soon painted in red.

He ended the happiness, the belonging, and awakened my calling, what Guardians were known for. I would fight to the death to defend this place, and those who inhabit it. I stood my ground, between him and the remaining dragons of the clan, and said no more. I will protect my clan mates with my life! Such is my birthright!!


I lost. Battered and bloody, the great Wyrm Tulvir dragged me to an allied clan.. her old home. She wrapped my wounds in gauze and salve from the nearby flora.. this new clan has welcomed me in open paws, but I feel.. wrong.

I failed them; I could not defend my Charge. I deserve a fate worse than death; will I become finless, due to the fact that I had abandoned my Charge? No, no, it wasn't my doing.. perhaps I can go back, and defend it evermore. Perhaps there's still hope, so long as some of the other clan members survive.

I must regain my strength, bide my time, before I attempt once more to save my Charge; my friends.