Dziendobry

Once upon a time there was a colorful and talented Bogsneak. She lived in a sturdy crossroads town on the banks of the Mire. Each morning, hours before the sun rose, she and her helpers would heat up the ovens and prepare the day's bread. At sunrise they would open the shop doors and sing out into the street, "Pies and Pastries, Dumplings and Turnovers! So little to pay, let this bread start your day!" Rather silly, but not bad for a sales jingle. With her cheerful demeanor and delicious smelling pastries, she greeted passers by with, "Good morning, my dears" to all the local merchants and caravan workers as they came and went through the town.

Until one fateful night there was a spectacular storm. Lightning made bright trails in the sky and the wind lifted the shingles on the buildings in the town, making the roofs look as though they were Ridgebacks. Sparks crackled though the air and the dragons of the town hunkered behind their shutters and walls. Early the next morning Dzeindobry and her helpers trudged through the puddles to prepare their wares ... but the shop was gone. All that remained was the outline of the huge brick ovens in the dust, and some hungry podids scrounging in the debris for stale crusts from the day before.

In her grief Dzeindobry forgot all about the storm. She saw the group of podids and imagined they were the ones who had taken away her shop. She gave a wild howl of fury and then, remembering that she was also a sales-dragon, suddenly imagined that those podid were also somehow her customers. Roaring "Good morning, my dears" she chased the podids deep into the Mire. She hoped to find her missing bakery and bring it back to town.

Her helpers ran close behind. Among the reeds and muck they had to defend themselves against kamaitachi weasels, toridaes and even the rare giant wartoads. By nightfall, although they had seen her many times, the helpers were never quite able to catch up to her. When they returned to the town everyone was amazed by how much stronger the helpers had become.

Ever after in the Mire, early in the mornings, the townspeople would hear Dzeindobry's bellow of "Good morning, my dears!" and know she was on the hunt for those long-ago podids. Time and again new helpers would venture out into the Mire to try to find her, some go out to gain experience in battles beside her and some in hopes of learning her famous recipes.