Zodrem

Zodrem is old, older than most dragons in the lair. His slender body moves with less grace than in his younger years and his mane is laced with silver and grey. He speaks quietly, his voice rattled with the strain of age. Many don't recall exactly what he does, but Zodrem does many things. By performing odd jobs around the Clan - keeping care of the grounds, returning lost items, telling stories to inquisitive souls - Zodrem earns his nest among the many other dragons inhabiting the lair without having to pick up a sword or craft goods.

Though he was conceived in Earth territory, he has called the Ice clan his home for many years, despite it's harsh winds and bitter frost. Most dragons, especially those of age, would be turned off by living in such a cold climate- a place where your toes turn purple in the night is not a peaceful place by any means. But Zodrem holds nothing but gratitude for this place.

Many a hardship has come his way, hardships he does his best to forget about. He does not speak of his past, responding with "you really don't want to hear about and old geezer, do you?" when others have inquired. Only the clan leader knows some of what has transpired in the male's life, but they don't pry further. Zodrem has knowledge and experience that would be helpful to the warriors of the clan, but the leader keeps quiet, allowing the old imperial to dwell in the lair without making him relive his painful memories.

Since living in the lair, Zodrem's life has improved greatly, but it cannot patch the wounds of this history. Sometimes, he gets night terrors about his past. Dragons of the lair will find themselves awakened by screams of blood and sorrow bellowing from the sleeping Imperial's jaws. When he awakens in the morning after his throat being rubbed raw by the nightmares, he picks himself up and goes out into the ice. Sun, snow, or blizzard, Zodrem will go out, allowing the frigid wind to wash over his aging body. The cold wind numbs his memories and makes him feel safe. Though the frost may cling to his beard and burn into his skin like cold fire, Zodrem has never felt more at peace.
-By FableHeart