Ashmane

The most ancient native inhabitants of the Cinder Marsh were a clan of Fae who used to live a nomadic and harsh life in the Molten Scar, constantly moving from one zone of peace to another hoping to reach before they starve or are found by more warlike clans. It's how they finally made their way into this valley at the edge the Emberblow Hearth. There, these fast flying faes found a haven where they had more than enough food to live for the rest of their lives and for their descendants to do the same. Beneath the protection of the volcanoes and out of the pryin eyes of mercenaries, slavers and pillagers, the faes turned into spectacular bug hunters and chassers. They even turned it into a sport and are now consumate racers. This allowed them to become quite prosperous and soon the Cinder Marsh attracted the unwanted attention. It's a plea of the Racer Fae that would attract Nideth, the first of the Ash Guard. It's also their traders that attracted Teiru, the first of the Brimstone Alchemist, to travel to this hidden location of the Emberglow Hearth. They are the heart and soul of the Cinder Marsh and provide for many refuges as they are quick to make friends. This has led to some problem as the Exiled Court is eager to abuse of their generosity.

Ashmane was never taken very seriously. He wanted to be seen as a virile, macho action hero. In his mind, his destiny was to become a famous warrior or maybe daring hunter, the kind of dragon little hatchlings like him go “whoa!” when they cross path. He didn’t want to learn magic either as it was too intellectual for his taste and he never could concentrate long enough to properly learn it anyway. No, his way would be the bone and blood way. Alas, a cool name wasn't enough to distract people from his minuscule size. Yet, minor setback like size, breed, talent and lack of foresight aren’t real obstacles for the real, manliest of all heroes, or so he thought.

On a young summer eve, Ashmane's clan was preparing one of their annual military expedition. There, the young dragon could observe his heroes assemble and prepare to go to war. Their leader, a truly massive Ridgeback clad in tarnished steel plates, was reviewing the troops and presenting them with their objectives. Of course, Ashmane asked to join the raiding forces and was laughed off the muster field after a few seconds of incredulous silence. There was no way a tiny, weak, brightly colored child dragon fae incapable of casting a spell, with no equipment or experience would ever join such a dangerous expedition. When he returned from the muster field, the laughter continued when the other hatchelling learned of the event.

However, they had severely underestimated the determination and sheer stupidity of Ashmane. While the troops were about to depart, he used his minuscule size to sneak on the back of the giant Ridgeback leading them and hid in a nook of his armor. Ashmane was finally going to war and would certainly return as a hero. He had even donned the skeleton war paint of his clan in prevision of his triumphant return. For once his small size a blessing, Ashmane discovered the hellish landscape of the Ashfall Waste. The warriors of his clan were very fleet and though the journey wasn’t long, it was certainly perilous. His clan was intent on raiding the Cinder Marsh, a prosperous region of the Molten Scar and knew exactly how to get there. Ashmane's excitement was palpable. Everything was perfect for a glorious war story, powerful foes, a battlefield made of lava, volcanic ashes and billowing smoke and, of course, marvellous treasures at the end of it.

War and battle always look good in stories, but what Ashmane witnessed in the shadow of the volcanoes surrounding the Cinder Marsh would finally hammer some sense into him. The forces of his clan were matched against the Ash Guard, a clan of guardians dedicated to the protection of the Cinder Marsh, in one of few mountain pass that gave access to the marsh behind it. The battle was fierce and brutal. The poor little hatchling quickly found himself alone and out of the protective armor of his clan leader who fell under the fiery breath and claws of his match in the Ash Guard. For the first time in his life, he had no ambition of fighting; only of hiding and surviving. As the battle ended and his clan was retreating, defeated, Ashmane was left stranded behind. Nobody even knew he was there in the first place. He tried to hide, but a particularly keen eyed and vigilant guardian spotted his bright scale on the ashen soil. The Ash Guards were not the kind that would kill a terrorised and traumatised hatchling. They brought it back into the Cinder Marsh and left him in the care of a group of joyful and colorful fae dragons, thinking he would recover well and be accepted amongst them.

Ashmane had set out to become a hero and a great warrior to gain the respect of his clan. Instead, he found himself a family; people who would accept him for who he was instead of who he aspired to be. After a relatively quick recovery thanks to his plague dragon heritage, he was accepted into their clan and became one of their racer and bug-catcher, a high octane job since the fireflies of the Ashfall Waste are known to be the quickest in the world. His small size didn’t prevent him from being very fleet and reach a position of respect within his new clan in little time. Finally, Ashmane had what he always wanted, some validation and some action in his life. No need for brutal combat to achieve that!