Sargon

Sargon Ironheart - florist

Sargon never felt quite at home in his birth flight's famous profession. Blacksmithing was an art, it's true, where one would take cold, hard metal and coax intricate shapes and edges so sharp that you could cut yourself just by lightly touching it.

The end product was beautiful, but it wasn't for Sargon. He loathed blacksmithing. It was hot, tiring work, pumping bellows all day and standing far too close to a fire to be comfortable. Metal was interesting, but it lacked that certain appeal, it wasn't alive for him like it was for other blacksmiths. It mimicked life, that was all. And so, despite the naysayings of his friends and family, Sargon tried a different profession, one that seemed odd considering the lava flows and intense heat of his homeland. Flower-raising.

Sargon had made that decision years ago. Now, he stood surrounded by his many beautiful flowers and smiled. Wildclaws originated from the Viridian Labyrinth and perhaps it was this ancient history that created this desire within him, he guessed. But it didn't matter. All that mattered was his flowers and nothing made him happier than taking a bunch of them, elegantly arranged, and presenting them to another dragon, sad and unhappy. The look of pure joy on their face always made him feel good and often they would follow him over to his lair to gaze at his collection and share stories. He always listened to their troubles and consoled them as best he could.

Many dragons loved him, but despite all this he always felt a little lonely. He enjoyed talking with people, but what he really wanted was a friend to join him in caring for the flowers with whom he could talk with about anything and everything.

He wandered for a long time, going from flight to flight, trying to fill a void in his heart. He took with him herbs, spices, and dried flowers, as well as seeds. He learned the art of healing as he went, enjoying the knowledge that he could put his wonderful plants to use helping other dragons in a whole new way.