Leon

Leon Stormfall, former Imperial, has since resided in the Morning Rose Tribe in order to start over.
Leon is a gentleman at heart, always making sure to be polite at all times and show kindness to others, and enjoys drawing quite a bit and is quite good at it as well, but he is full of deep seated anxieties and fears over the instincts he has as a newly transformed Gaoler, and full of guilt for the hurt he's brought others because of it.
Ever since his metamorphosis, a strange, small, furry creature has been following him around, gaze intently fixed on him at all times, as if testing him.

Selected Virtue: Courtesy
Hindering Vice: Compulsion
Order: Seeker

• The dragon who cries the most on the inside.

Birthplace:

Once upon a time, Leon was an Imperial, selected to be in a party of fellow Lightning dragons to harness the magical energies that were detected in the Southern Icefield for the progression and glory of dragonkind, at least that's what the president of his sector said. He had been chosen alongside his brother Sirrus as they had proven themselves at a young age to be very capable workers, and only adept workers could undertake this mission.
Upon their arrival, the party had dealt with quite a few rioting Ice clans trying to prevent the harvesting of the magic energy of their home, not taking "for the sake of progressing dragonkind" as an answer. Leon, however, would soon grow to regret being among those fighting to absorb energy when he was told by the commander of the squadron to evict an elderly dragon from her home in a large burrow. He guessed she was a Tundra, but she was the ugliest Tundra he had ever seen, though he said nothing about it as that would be rather rude, nor would he make any remarks on how disturbing her decor was, shrieking monsters encased in ice. When he stated his business, she seemed to continue with harsher versions of what his purpose was. That he was here to kick her out of her home, and then sap the land dry of it's life essence and destroy the Icefields as dragonkind knew them all for the sake of inflating their own egos.
When Leon tried to stand firm in his position, apologizing that he was just doing his job but insisted that she leave for her own safety, she suddenly roared at him, that only when he saw for himself as to how shadetouched his kind was would he truly understand what he was doing.
It was then that Leon realized this was no Tundra, as she flared her almost nonexistent wings and bared her razorlike teeth and an overwhelming, stinging flare of magic enveloped him.
All went to black after that.

When he awoke, he found himself feeling much heavier yet much smaller than usual, and nary a comrade to be seen in the howling wasteland, and the burrow, somehow easier to enter, save the monsters imprisoned in frost, now empty. He felt odd when a thought in the form of a growl surfaced in his head at the sight of the frozen beasts. "Good."
And it was then that he noticed that, on the floor, his clothing was in tatters. And his paw...different.
And he gazed closer at the ice, his reflection gave him a most ghastly revelation.
Whatever he was, he was most certainly not an Imperial, anymore. He was a thick furred, long antlered beast with stubs for wings. Just like the old dragon he tried to evict.
"What am I!?" He shrieked.

When he reunited with his party, they bared their fangs at him, not knowing who he was and mistaking him for a rioting Ice dragon, and drove him away. Leon wandered the Icefields alone and readjusting to his new body, when these new sensations overcame him.
Hunt. Confine. The evils of this world must be contained.
He was utterly baffled by this new growling voice in his subconscious. Terrified by it, quite frankly. He was no hunter, he was a tinkerer.
Leon took temporary residence in an Ice clan that showed some resent of him, seeing his cyan eyes. He tried to explain his situation but no one ever really replied to him about it. Nevertheless, Leon appreciated their hospitality.
It was when a lone rogue dragon came and stole precious food from the clan when the urge to chase down and subdue the thief grew to be too much to hold back. At a blinding speed he pursued the dragon and clawed him to an inch of his life, dragging him back by the tail to the clan's leaders where they detained him in a separate den from the other dragons, freezing him in his place. It was then that Leon came out of his trancelike state and realized two things: first, that he, to his horror, had brutally beaten another dragon, and secondly, he finally knew what his new purpose was, and he didn't know how to feel about it at all.
It wasn't long after that his party came to the clan he had stayed at and told them that it would be in their best interest to vacate the premises, for their territory was showing signs of being rich in magic energies and as such they would start collecting it. The operation would need a lot of space and as such the clan had to leave as soon as they could. When the Ice clan protested, insisting that this was their home and these strangers had no right to suck it dry of it's life force, the Lightning party claimed that, for the progress and glory of dragonkind, they would use force if necessary, and retaliated, and a battle quickly ensued.
Leon had never been so disgusted with dragons he once called his family before or since, and yet, as he fought tooth and claw against his brethren, he couldn't help but feel broken hearted.
The Ice clan was small and was driven back, losing their own home and had no choice but to search for a new one. Leon spent this time of wandering in deep thought, he grew resentful of the Lightning flight for forcing this clan with hatchlings and elders to abandon their lair, and for what? Magic advancement? Surely there was a line to be drawn when it came to progress, right?
He shook his head, he wasn't thinking like a Lightning dragon. ...Just what was he thinking like, anymore? His want to build had been replaced with impulses to hunt and detain those who did wrong. He had always considered himself more on the softspoken and docile side, he didn't know why he was acting the way he was, anymore.
He wasn't sure exactly who he was, anymore, for that matter.
With that, he bode his temporary clan farewell, thanking them deeply for their hospitality, and he was so sorry that his flight did what they did to them, but he had to go, he had to find a place to start over and truly find himself. They nodded solemnly in understanding as he walked away, going wherever he felt like he needed.
He eventually paid a ferry service for dragons unable to fly to go across the sea, where he came to port at the Sunbeam Ruins.
He was astonished when, as he came to port, he was halted by two Pearlcatchers clad in pure gold armor, the male telling him simply "Come."
And in awe, they brought him to the patron of Light herself. Lowering her head to get a better look at him and tossing some of her bulbs over her shoulder, she spoke but one word.
"Gaoler."
Leon gulped, he had never seen one of the elemental leaders face to face before. Not even the Stormcatcher. "Yes, I suppose I am, madame."
"Your kind has not seen the outside world for a thousand years. What brings you here?" She asked gently, genuinely curious.
"I..." he began, nervous to the core. "I don't know who I am, anymore." He admitted. "I came here to find out, or to at least...get a clean start."
The leader of Light leaned back, eyes lowering laxly. "I believe you have come to the right place...ancient child of the Icewarden."

And ever since, Leon has lived in the Sunbeam Ruins, hoping this clean slate of his will yield good things.