Quicksilver

In every clan and every lair there is death. The warrior who returns bloodied and beaten, the egg that fails to hatch, the old one who passes peacefully in their sleep and the disease that rends its sickly path through young and old alike. It is the duty of the Embalmer to deal with death, the dying and the living left behind.

No dragon is left to die alone. Friend or foe, good or evil, the Embalmer treats all the same. Sick bed stench is cleansed from the air with a strange incense. No two dragons can ever pin down or agree on it's exact scent, but all describe it as vaguely familiar and somewhat soothing. Whispered incantations ward off evil spirits, and in the lull of the night turn into a gentle, murmuring song that encourages a restful sleep. Every death bed is different, and it is the duty of the Embalmer to judge how to approach each dragon. Some need reverence and hushed tones. Others need bright light and loud laughter. The Embalmer, by her nature, is flexible and becomes whatever is needed to make the passing gentle.

Once the time has come and gone her duties shift. The bodies, their souls now departed, are cleansed and moved to the burial site. The death bed is meticulously cleansed and purified. The Embalmer leads a simple gathering of loved ones to share memories and stories of happy times. Finally, the body is buried with a few prized trinkets, the site marked and the living leave for a raucous celebration of life.

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