Dalamar

Advisor Rank
This clan has changed much since I first joined it's ranks. I was the first Imperial to grace this clan, and played a large part in it's construction. But the god's have not been kind to us. Many of the powerful fell or took grievous damage during an attack on our leader, Falcera. It changed her. Where once she would show kindness to all, she has become wary, allowing only those she has rigorously tested to follow her.

I once locked myself away, offering my council only when Falcera or Manstren asked it of me, and following a few younglings that I saw potential in. I would have little contact with any of the other whelps that followed us, spending time only with Celia, the fair scaled one. I admired her spirit, but she was not long for this world.

The attack on our clan all but decimated our ranks. My daughter, Flame, last born to my life mate was lost in the initial onslaught, along with all but a handful of her own offspring, the survivors escaping to who knows where. My girl, who I had done everything for, going so far as to change her scales to how she wanted them with incantations that so many moons to prepare, snuffed out in a moment. The blow was a painful one, but worse was yet to come.

The sickness that was left behind took my Celia. I worked rigorously to heal her. Endless potions were created and discarded. We turned to blood magic. It was always my last resort and had never failed me. It saved body, but warped her mind. For the first time in my life I was stuck at a moral quandary. I asked Falcera for her advice, but her words had left her, motioning only to her adviser, Death. I knew the final choice was mine, but she was right.

My roll has changed. Where before I would focus on my own research, I have now taken a more active roll in the running of our "family." Those not of our clan fear me for I take my pick of their eggs, ending them if they protest, molding the dragon that will hatch into a magic wielder of substantial power, but at great cost. Most of these dragons are turned to the ranks of the lifeless, and those who don't never know the touch of a mate or the care of their parents. They don't need it, they have a new family. Not many of these dragons exist at one time, for we here all know that what what we do is wrong.

We have lost so many, and we have all changed. We are fierce now, we have ended many who do not deserve their breath. But I believe we are all afraid, for we who are left still cannot sleep at night through the screams of our friends who have fallen.
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It was a dim evening, as it often was, when Dalamar came across a familiar dragon. The towering Ridgeback stood taller than many he had seen, and despite her shadowy eyes had a great aura of earth about her. She had changed much, but the old mage could not mistake her, this was Ravasaadi, one of Flame's young to go missing in the attack.

The usually highly reserved Imperial ran to embrace her, but the now-mighty warrior was suspicious, and did not remember her Grandfather, being so young and traumatised when she disappeared. Dalamar felt a tinge in his heart for his lost child, and swears to restore the lost memories in his Grandaughter, even if to only preserve a part of her mother.