Firescale

Firescale was named by his father for when he hatched, his egg had been cracked too-early, leaving him with a layer of soot atop his scales the moment he was born. Basalt had encountered firescale in countless pieces of jewellery, and it reminded him of his newest son.

Something that could have been ruined would instead become better than it ever could have been.

He easily grew into his name, learning the skills of forging from his father as he mastered the skills of metalworking. Though he could make armour for Guardians or weapons for Imperials, jewellery was by far his favourite. Something so delicate only a Fae could do so well, and it was what kept him up late at night.

Though he was born into a travelling family, he quickly ached for the Ashfall Waste, yearned for the place he knew as his home. Firescale wanted to spend a time in a land of magma and blacksmithing, to understand where he came from.

Heading straight past the Emberglow Hearth, he settled in the Molten Scar where he built a house of stone and metal next to various lava flows. To leave his home and feel the blazing heat on his scales, to fall asleep to the sound of bubbling, popping lava, he had never been happier.