Safin

Safin - or rather, Saf - is a weaver.

More technically, he's an apprentice weaver. Without really being an apprentice - because weaving masters are forever in short supply when demand for their work remains so high. A learner weaver might be the better term for it.

Master weavers know the secrets of weaving. Saf is only just beginning to discover them. And weaving is hardly an easy task for a Plague dragon; the art itself requires a deep understanding and excellence in the magic of plenty, hardly something found in abundance in the wastelands. Even history conspired against Plague weavers; the art originated in the Viridian Labyrinth, where fine diaphanous strands were spun into garments lighter than air. Hardly a place a Plague dragon would visit.

But those few Plague weavers that were out there were easily the best of their craft, and if there is anything Saf is not lacking in, it is ambition. Saf is anything but lacking in ambition. And he has motivation in spades. He will make it to weaving mastery, even if he does it through pure stubbornness.

There's something about weaving that's incredibly beautiful to Saf. The way silk strands flutter, the way bolts of twilight and diaphanous spun into something light and wonderful, the way finely meshed koi armour blend into elegance on woven cloth underneath. He's enthralled by it, far too much to be healthy; Saf might fly the world to see more. He would fly the world to see more. The art itself is something that he loves, too much to let go, even if general consensus agrees on the difficulties for a Plague dragon.

And Saf is simply too determined to let something as minor - or major - as elemental allegiance to stand in his way.