Pelodey

Pelodey is a field scholar with a keen interest in nature and conservation. While his peers carried out their never-ending research into the ruins of Light's domain, Pelodey studied the growth of the grasses that surrounded it, the adaptations of the local fauna that enabled them to create shelter within the pillars.

Pelodey had been a client of Varley since its time as a mere mercenary band. He found over time that his research was too narrowly focused on his own home. A larger sample size was necessary, but no other dragon would accompany him. With Varley providing safe escort, Pelodey was able to make trips to areas that were ecologically fascinating but historically uninteresting.

It was a long while until he found his place. Pelodey, having grown a minor reputation for his work in tracking Wavehopper populations, was contacted for a more long-term project. A Nature clan just across the border river sought his insight in restoring the populations of endangered amphibian species. Pelodey sought out the Varley Company once more, only to find that it had grown into a full-fledged clan - based, as luck would have it, a short walking distance from that very river.

After some discussion with the clan's leader, Pelodey took up a residency within Varley. The arrangement was better than planned. Pelodey could track populations on the south side of the river while his friends to the north sent their own observations. The close proximity of his destination and mercenaries let him take more trips to the other side whenever he saw the need (and at discounted rates, too!).

Most surprising, especially considering who the clan's founder was, was the clan's need had for an ecologist like himself - most of his income was found in gathering plants and herbs for Varley.

---

"What, what, wait - what is this?"

"Plants," replied the Banescale - Amadeus? Samothes? What was his name?

His partner for the day, Whisk, merely nodded. Not that Pelodey had expected him to do anything but uphold his characteristic silence.

"Please tell me these aren't for eating," Pelodey said.

"Of course they are. Aphos asked herself. Too busy with the ledgers to gather today."

"She couldn't have asked someone who ate plants? This is a weed, this one's mildly poisonous, and - Lights, is that a vine? That's practically wood - completely inedible."

Pelodey went through their haul meticulously, picking out useless roughage, honest-to-Gods sticks, and bare stems, detailing exactly why each piece was wrong. The Banescale watched, or pretended to; Whisk was moving the scant few "approved" plants into an empty sack, making it only slightly less empty by the time he was done. He took it and promptly left, presumably towards the larder.

"-and please, don't ever pick one of these. Your hide may provide protection against its sap, but a Tundra's fur will not."

His unwilling pupil nods absently, eyes glazed. He gives a small shake when he realizes Pelodey is done. "Ah, right. I'll...put these somewhere outside?"

"Be sure you do," Pelodey says, and continues on his way.

---

"Pelodey."

It's the tone that makes most dragons snap to attention, though Pelodey has never understood the haste at which they do. Is it due to some mercenary training all mercenaries must go through? "Yes?"

Aphos is the most imposing Tundra - perhaps the most imposing dragon, period - that Pelodey has ever met. Not that Pelodey is intimidated. Aphos has been nothing but reliable and upstanding since the researcher hired her for his first trip away from home. It's just - well. You don't see someone eviscerate a Silverbeast and not feel some sense of cautious awe.

"I noticed something unusual about dinner and was told you were the cause."

Oh, no, no. Did he mistakenly approve something Tundra couldn't consume? Her face was always as solid as stone; he would find no answers there. "Ah. Well, er - perhaps you could enlighten me on what you found strange?"

"I didn't get any mouth sores at the end."

"Pardon?"

"It was good. There's too much for me to deal with to go digging in the dirt, but whenever I send someone else, I end up with some kindling and a new allergy." Aphos looks him up and down with an evaluating expression. "Tell you this - you be in charge of foraging, and board's free. Good?"

"I - yes, of course-"

"Then it's settled."

As she leaves, Pelodey can barely catch her parting words.

"Who knew frog boy was the only one of these carnivore meatheads with sense?"