When this dragon was young, she went by the name Iso. She lived in a family lair that had, as her social ancestors happily accepted in more and more dragons who were not blood related, become something of a small town. It was an unusually relaxed place, the dragons living there peaceful and gentle above all else.

Then the Trickster appeared. A creature created by excess magical energy, one of a kind, exceptionally dangerous. It had destroyed many peaceful clans, but it had not yet come close enough to bother Iso's. She wasn't going to wait until it did. Iso went straight to her father and asked him for his strongest battlestone, one he had saved for years in case of emergency.

Her father insisted she was not ready to go face some monstrosity, that she could not go from her sheltered home to a battle for her life so quickly. When Iso argued, her father propose a simple game. If she could win it, it would prove she was ready.

"I'm thinking of a number between one and ten," her father told her. "All you have to do is guess it. If you get it wrong, you will have to wait a full day before trying again, and the number will have changed."

Simple! Iso agreed to the test, and guessed immediately. Nine. Her guess was wrong, but she was a practical dragon. She guessed this would delay her a little over a week at most, and was worth it for such a powerful battlestone.

The next day she guessed one, and was wrong again. The next, five. The next, eight. She guessed again and again and again, day after day, while the Trickster decimated more land and the clans that lived there. Weeks passed. Months. No matter what she guessed, she was never right.

Allowing herself to delay no longer, Iso made a plan to steal the battlestone. It broke her heart to steal from her father, but it was even more painful knowing what the Trickster was doing while she wasted day after day on guessing games. She took the stone under cover of darkness and was about to slip away into the night when she saw her father standing there, having seen it all.

"Yesterday's number was twelve," he told her. "And the day before that, eighty. The day before, fifty-two. The Trickster is called that for a reason. When you face it, it will not play fair." And with that, he left her to be alone with her thoughts.

It took almost three years for Iso to reach the Trickster. The thing moved constantly, and by then had enlisted a small army of beastclan to protect it. As a lone traveler, Iso often had to retreat and wait. But she was far too determined to give up.

The day came that she finally faced the creature. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, scales and fur and feathers mixed together on its incomprehensible body seemingly at random. It was huge, even when compared to a dragon. Before she could attack it, it bent down its long, swan-like neck to bring its misshapen head eye to eye with her. It spoke.

"I'm thinking of a number... between one and ten," it said. "Why don't we make a deal? If you guess right... I'll do anything you say, without resistance. Anything at all, anything you want. If you guess wrong, you must leave for the day. You may come back tomorrow... and you may try again..."

Without hesitation, Iso went for the creature's neck and beheaded it in one blow.

The Trickster's head, writhing on the ground, gasped. "That's... exactly right," it said, and died.

Iso was celebrated as a hero after news of her victory spread, but it all felt somehow hollow.

She never returned to her home. She has even since changed her name, to distance herself further from the events that took place. No one recognizes her now, which is exactly the way she prefers it.

---

Before she could travel far enough to shake all notice, she would tell those who recognized her that her familiar is made from the head of the Trickster itself. This is verifiably untrue, the creature was burned head and all as a precaution. But it no doubt reminds her of it.