Leopold

Once, long ago, in a land far from here, I was a Warden.

Yes, me. Don't laugh. I was young and served the Icewarden in defeating the Shade.
Of course I could fight. How else is one to defeat and capture the enemy?
Was I good at it? Ah, you now see my age and the girth of this body that has grown over the years, but do not be deceived. If the danger came, I can still protect those in need. Have no doubts, young ones; this old one can still make mincebones out of the Shade.
But hush now. If you keep asking questions, my story will never be told.



Yes, I was a Warden Gaoler, one of the Protectors from the South. My job was that of Lore Keeper. My brethren and I would keep records of all that was known about the Shade. Not as exciting as Warrior, I admit, but valuable none the less. It was also our job to research the records and provide needed information to the Wardens whose job it was to capture the enemy.

Yet after many years of listening to Wardens return with their tales of grim glory, I realized that my life felt empty in comparison. Grey. Dismal. Unimportant. The feeling continued to grow as I aged . It was not that my job was meaningless, yet any dragon able to read and write could replace me. And I felt that there was so much more, so many more tales to find and record out in the world.

There were Lore Wardens that accompanied Troops on their expeditions. Those who helped write the stories they recorded. But what about the Shade in other lands, the Lore of other dragons, the stories that remained unheard? The idea of traveling and collecting what others held sacred and true began to seep into my very soul. The more I tried to lock it away, the stronger it became. But the Icewarden let few Lore Keepers out of his reach, and never to far off lands. I could not let him realize the force that plagued my nights, calling me away to the unknown. Instead, I had to be wise, and devise a way to provide valuable knowledge to the Icewarden.

When I finally ventured forth to propose my plan to him, I knew I must be strong, and exude confidence in my suggestion. The Shade was everywhere, had been everywhere. Surely, hidden deep in the Lore of other cultures, there were stories that would aid my fellow Wardens in their fight against the enemy. I was prepared to pursue such an undertaking.

Did he believe me? I do not know. Maybe he could read my heart and see the yearning within it. Perhaps he merely saw the merit in my suggestion. Either way, he sent me forth, tasked with searching other lands to find more information on our enemy to report. This I have done, and will continue to do.

Unbeknownst to me, however, was what I would find upon my travels. Stories, oh yes, a myriad of histories and wisdom gleamed from the elders and gatherings of a thousand dragons. But also the beings who inspired those stories, whose lives formed the tales and whose personality shone stronger than any inspiration I had ever known before. Everyone has their tale; they are the hero of it whether they know it or not. And each one is unique to itself, inspiration, and filled with far more details of sorrow, beauty and triumph them ever dreamed.

Those are what compelled me to continue along my path. And the lands through which I traveled were magnificent. Dangerous? Often. Difficult? Certainly. But also filled with wonders, with beauty, with the unknown. My favorite were the desert lands. Though they are hot and dry and brown, the dragons who live there are colorful and exuberant. They take pure delight in their time on earth, perhaps because the deserts are deadly.

It was there that I was introduced to music.

No, I never heard music before, you silly young hatchling. Wardens are far to busy to have anything to do with such a frivolous undertaking.

Yet, I learned that music is not frivolous. It is a necessary part of Life. It fills us with hope, with passion, with Joy. It gives us the means with which to mourn, to woo, to share what is in our hearts when mere words cannot. That is where I learned to play the drums in tempo with the heartbeat of the earth, and the flute with the whispering of the wind. It was there, were two Gypsee Gaolers found me. Indeed, when I met our own LaBella and Etoiles Morthaunt, it was as if a piece of who I was had been missing all those years, and I hadn't even realized it until that moment. When our Maevern sings and dances, my soul wants to join in, to share with others this incredible treasure we have discovered. When Etoiles discovered that guittaras sing the music of his beloved stars, we found that the wind of my flutes bring more depth to the songs we share. We became Family.

This is my tale. I find and tell stories that the heroes in them may be remembered. I make music to celebrate my own story.

There now. Off you go. Make your own stories, fill the air with your music, and dance with wild abandon. That, my younglings, is why we are hatched on this earth."