Itisahuman's Clan

FRISTAD

The Arcanist sat back from his scrolls, his many arms releasing the quills they had held to scatter stray ink droplets across his notes. They were finally finished, which meant he could take some time to look out over the Isles he had formed so long ago. Moving past his Eye of Many Lenses, he instead chose to peer at his Focal Glass, which looked around rather than up. Within there, a lone island caught his eye.

What had happened her- Oh. Now he remembered. That had been his dumping grounds for energy that came from failed magical experiments. Apparently it wasn’t quite as harmless as he thought…? At least, the frightening amalgamations that prowled among the trees on it seemed to encourage that conclusion. And a closer look revealed that it was right in the flight path leading to the Focal Point from other regions of the Isles, presenting itself as a good place for a rest stop. A newly-formed, migrating clan wouldn’t stand a chance against those magically charged monsters.

Whoops.

Well, that wouldn’t do. Not at all. Nosiree. The youngest deity reached out, curling his claws to destroy the aberrations- and he stopped. The monsters were not ideal, sure, but… there was potential there. He could feel it. Down in that little valley, on the southern side, there was raw power, ready to be channeled. Perhaps it would be better to give the traveling clans a place to stop safely? Then, he wouldn’t have to give up his dumping grounds either…

Yes, that would be the thing to do. He reached out again, but this time, it was to form a protective barrier around the divot in the earth, purifying the area within it before focusing it to form his favorite kind of creature: dragons. No clan was complete without its progenitors, of course!

And thus, Fristad was born. It wasn’t without its challenges, certainly- it was only a few dragons, and Arcanist wouldn’t be getting any awards for Most Attentive Deity. At least the protective barrier stayed in place. Mostly. Fristad generally took the break-ins as a challenge to test their collective merits and growth since their strange beginnings.

As the clan grew, the range of the protective barrier expanded as well, allowing them plenty of room to build more residence areas and public spaces. Fristad took to their ideal location as a rest stop for travelers with vigor, and as such always make sure to have extra room and food for weary migrators. They’ve even built a few beacons to draw in those who may be lost. Much of their population has come from dragons that have simply decided that it would be easier to stay.

With such a steady flow of visitors, much effort has been put into the buildings to make it a friendly, welcoming place. There are fountains, and wide plazas, and public gardens, and a bustling marketplace. At night, charmed lanterns light up the streets, hovering in uniform rows overhead, leading dragons to their chosen destination, and sometimes clustering around places of particular interest. Every once in a while, you’ll see one of their creators coming out of their home with a broom to bat away the friendly lights that are ignoring their duties to come “say hello”.