Vulcan

Aramis had been the one to spot the egg, lying exposed in the Mire. He realised that the Fire Egg was in danger of getting too cold - the hatchling within would die. Healthy fire eggs glow a deep orange, this one barely had any glow left.

So he and his teammates brought the egg home with them to the Ashfall Wastes. The egg was carefully placed in the hottest molten pool the dragons could find. After that, began the wait.

By the end of a few hours, the egg glowed as brightly as any of the other Fire Eggs in the nesting ground. Hope in the lair rose, perhaps the egg would hatch.

Two days later, a young male hatched from the egg. He was blessed by the Flamecaller herself, his colours honouring his goddess and his clan.

The lair buzzed for the next few days. What should they call a hatchling whom the goddess blessed? Many names were suggested and finally the decision was made. They would call him Vulcan, he of fires, volcanos and blacksmiths. The young dragon chirped contentedly. He was warm and could feel the love of his clan.

As he grew, Vulcan became the official luck charm of the clan. His clan mates would lightly touch or brush against his wings before doing anything important.