Before the Garigill Clan
Esmalur was a wanderer, a vagabond, ever since he hatched from his flight
in the plague. He and his sister were shunned for being the wrong color,
and they both were was cast off and learned to hunt and fight on their own.
He had no destination in mind, nor any plans beyond simple survival. As he
was rejected time and time again from clans he passed, his heart grew hard,
and his mouth foul. This, of course, did not help with his homeless dilemma.
His sister, Panorin, was lucky, and gentle, and found a place among an ice0
clan to the south. And he was not. And so, his travels began.

He traveled through the shadow territory, The Tangled Woods, on his way
to nowhere. Though he found the wispwillow grove indeed a beautiful thing,
he found the other dragon's attitudes towards him either offensive or
terribly annoying (either frightened of the plagues he brought with him or
acting as if they were the better) and worked his slow way out of the territory.

The next territory he found was the Sunbeam Ruins. It was always so bloody
bright. Compared to the Tangled Woods, Esmalur just felt blinded at every turn.
No, this territory did not suit him much either. Though a few of the smarter
dragons did confirm he had brought nothing deadly with him other than his
mouth (both his jaws and tongue were quite sharp), none accepted him into
his clan. And he was fine with that. Though he would never admit it, he felt
like in idiot in comparison to all the scholars and archaeologists and seers who
roamed the area, as he'd never been taught much other than fighting and
hunting. He opted for a place where those skills would be useful. Somewhere
where, as he described it, "prey was plentiful as (censored) and dragons were
(censored) pathetic as their bloody hatchlings". He was not the most eloquent
of dragons. One of the dragons, another imperial who was all too eager to get
his fellow species out of the territory, suggested he go North, to the Viridian
Labyrinth.
This imperial warned him, of course, that the Gladekeeper did not take kindly
to plague dragons. That they were sworn enemies.
Esmalur did not care. It seemed like the perfect place for him.
And so, his travels led him to Garigill.


Meeting the Garigill Clan

He relished in the looks the 'gladespawn' gave him. The fear. The fury.
He kept his papers stating that he was not dangerous, at least in terms of
disease, but he still wasn't exactly considered welcome. He wandered the
glade for many a year, catching the prey in the Woodland Path and
earning marks in the coliseum. He was secretly growing lonely though, with no
mate or clan to accept him and call him their own.
The other imperial had been right about his shunned status.
Everything changed when the fire nation, or at least a beastclan with fire-
centered magic, attacked a fledgeling clan.
Poor Tarquin's clan was in fire-- excuse me, dire-- straits from the
attacks.
The young Fae's clan was cornered on all sides by fire magic-wielding
Centaurs, who'd used their dunhoof cousin's alliance with the Gladekeeper's
dragons to lure the clan into complacency, then struck with cruelty. Oh no, they
didn't strike outright, that would be too easy. They wanted these dragons to suffer
as they had suffered when the original dragons had forced them and other beastclans
out of their territory. So, they chose a siege to lay waste to this tiny clan. No word
could get in or out. Tarquin could not ask for help from other clans, even contact
with the mother herself could not be done. The Centaurs would attack- not kill, only
wound- any dragon who tried to run or fly to get help. Archers shot any member who
tried.
The clan dwindled in strength, unable to gather insects or meat for food, having
exhausted their resources for plant life in effort not to starve, did not get the nutrients
they needed. And so, the clan's young began to die off. Hades, the young daughter of
Tarquin and her mate Pluto, was the first to die, and Hallow, her sister, was not far off.
The newborn children of Elderon and his mate Entei were not named, as neither
parent could provide for their tiny hatchlings. All seemed lost. Hope died within the
tiny clan, and they all silently prepared to join the GladeKeeper.
And then Esmalur showed up.
He didn't know, at first. He was just annoyed at the centaurs in his way, and killed
the thing, and moved on. He came across the clan, thought the Fae was cute, asked
her why everyone looked on the brink of death. Why they were too lazy to hunt for food
on their own. One thing he didn't learn on his travels, sadly, was tact.
She explained to him that the centaurs wouldn't let them, and they were too weak to fight
back. That she'd lost her youngest daughter to starvation.
And Esmalur, tired of being alone, decided this was the perfect opportunity to find a place,
and a mate, of his own. He told Tarquin that he would kill the centaurs.
Tarquin, her hopes low, told him to prove it.
He brought back the centaur's body, fed the starving clan with it. He bought Hallow a few
more days. Thankfully, she had not been too far gone, though she had been hours from
the same fate as her sister.
In exchange, he demanded that Tarquin allow him, a plague dragon, to join her nature clan.
Tarquin, knowing it was this or death, agreed.
They fought together, Tarquin sustained on meat though it was not the prey her body
needed. He would act as her sword, slaying enemies from the front in close range, while she healed and shot with magic from afar.
And through this teamwork, he began to fall for the Fae.
While most dragons found the monotone and flapping confusing, Esmalur found
her voice calming, as odd as her thick southern was mixed with the toneless, soft voice
typical of the Fae. The flapping was charming, though he struggled to replicate it with
no flaps of his own. His utter honesty with what he was feeling or thinking allowed
Tarquin to understand him, and over time, she began to fall for him more than her own
mate, whom she was never all that close to anyways. Once the Centaurs had fled, they
decided to become mates.


His role in the Garigill Clan

Esmalur feels as if it were the ultimate middle finger to his old family to worship the
Dragon the PlagueBringer felt such loathing towards, and worshipped the GladeKeeper
with abandon. He probably would even have exalted himself if that didn't mean never
seeing his beloved little Fae again.
Oh, does he ever adore her.
He's still course and blade-tongued towards everyone, including her, in public. He doesn't
want the Centaurs to figure out who was throwing magic everywhere at them, doesn't want
her to become a target that he most certainly is after wiping out most of their clan.
So far his fears have been unfounded, and his mate has been perfectly safe as she gathers
food and supplies for her clan.
But behind closed doors is another story.
Oh, he becomes her toy in the den they share. He'll do just about anything, humiliate himself
willingly, lay down on the ground and beg for her attention. He'll groom every scale on her tiny
skin. Treat her the gentlest of ways. Bring her flowers and pretty things he finds on his patrols.
He's where she got those pretty things. The green sash, the golden necklace and legbands.
He spoils his mate rotten, especially to make up for his rather hostile attitude towards
everything and everyone else. He is hers, and hers alone, and he is incredibly,
undeniably jealous for her. No, she is not Pluto's anymore she is his, all his. Also the Glade-
Keeper's but mostly his. And he will definitely fight over it, defend his precious mate to the
death.
After the Centaurs left, he became the guard of the clan, constantly patrolling for trouble
if he's not cajoling Tarquin for attention or actively annoying the other members of the
clan. He takes this job very seriously. Young Hallow is trying to follow in his footsteps,
but her father, Pluto? Pluto has made a different guard, no he was not happy at all
when Esmalur, a plague dragon of all things, came to rescue them. He wants to make the
clans purely nature dragons again, believing it to be the Gladekeeper's will.
As a result, Esmalur and Pluto do not get along. No, no, not at all.
In fact, they've accidentally started a bit of an awkward rift in the clan due to the different
guard duties they control.
Only time will tell if things get out of claw before Tarquin can stop this mess her mates
created.