Eshlyn

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Eshlyn doesn't know where she came from, exactly, and she didn't know where exactly she belonged...until she found SkyeLande. Eshlyn hasn't found her complete charge yet, but what she does know is that she loves the excitement of battle.
She doesn't usually get to enjoy this, she is more occupied with daily chores and non-excitement tasks. But when she has the spare time, off she goes into whatever she wants - always coming back with little or no scars.

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After a few days of discovering SkyeLande and endless wandering, she found a cave. The cave that at first looked like it was small and empty, but as you walked along deeper inside, it was in fact big enough to house nearly a 100 dragons! This cave was filled with only a select few, all with darkened eyes and gruesome scars. They appeared to love sharpening objects and twisting plants, weeds, and tree bark into a pot.

As Eshlyn walked in, all looked her way. Some chattered to themselves as in wonder to whom was the newcomer. Eshyln walked in to an elderly dragon and asked where she was.

"Roundser Hideaway."

Roundser Hideaway? She had never heard of such place. Cutting into her thoughts, the elderly dragon spoke again, "You never been?"

"Uhm, no." She said quickly. "Is there someone who can point me in the right direction of a training camp...or something for dragons who like to battle?"

The elderly dragon raised one scaly 'eyebrow' and chuckled. "The best pointing ya've gotten is one from your feet! Welcome to SkyeLande's training camp thingy!" He chuckled again, a little louder than the first.

After a bit of talking, he said she was very welcome to stay. After telling him about her wishes to battle, he mentioned his leader said a couple of his warriors could teach her a bit of tricks if she helped them gather some herbs first. So, she left the cave in search.

Looking around, Eshlyn thought the little forest scenery around the cave was quite beautiful. When she was staring into the sky, a small fae came up to her and handed her a tiny key.

"Do not lose. This. House key. Yours."

A little confused at first, but understood the fae as soon as he left. He was giving her a key to her new home. She tried a bunch of doors - none opening until she hit the last door. Of course. Hers just had to be the last door, but she wasn't complaining. At least she had a place to stay.

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Her first join in a battle was when they heard lots of commotion outside. According to the locals, up until recently this area has been hidden by mists and swirling wind storms but when Eshlyn took one step out her door, something changed and the tornadoes finally stopped.

She thought it was a coincidence, but later realizing she had the power to calm anything. Blessed with her gift, she decided to use it well around her new home, occasionally bringing it with her out onto the battle field for a strategy. And it never failed her.

Lore by LunaLane #407346

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One day however, Eshlyn was called by her elder, who told her to prepare for her greatest battle of all. When she asked what they meant, she was told that she would go serve a higher cause under the direct command of the Lightweaver. She was exhilarated by this news, yet also anxious as to how the Lightweaver would see a Plague-born dragon coming to serve under her cause. Regardless, she knew she would do well, and would prove herself a worthy warrior under her command.

As Eshlyn travelled towards the Beacon of the Radiant Eye however, she was stopped by a death seeker carrying an envelope in it's beak. Upon opening the envelope, she discovered a letter that invited her to reside with an older clan residing within the Rotrock Rim. The death seeker gave out a raspy cry, and began to hover in place before flying away. It perched on a nearby branch, looked back at her, then cried out again. It seemed that the death seeker was beckoning her to follow.

Despite the setting sun, curiosity consumed her, and she followed the death seeker. Eshlyn followed them through the night, flying over the the Sunbeam Ruins which she used to call home; over the Tangled Wood where she felt millions of eyes were looking up at her from the darkness below, and eventually into the Scarred Wasteland. When she arrived at the Rotrock Rim, dawn had broken, and the twisted and grotesque landscape was illuminated around her. Standing at the entrance of a large opening carved within the mountain of flesh, was a dark-colored, intimidating Banescale.

"State your business here stranger," the Banescale demanded.

"My name is Eshlyn," Eshlyn stated, "I received a letter to come live with this clan." She held up the letter in her claws.

"Very well then, you may enter." The banescale stood aside, and allowed Eshlyn passage into the Rotrock Rim. The opening was small, just wide enough for a larger imperial to squeeze in, but as she travelled down the corridor, it gradually widened until three imperials could comfortably walk side by side within. She passed by a few other dragons within the corridor, which she assumed to be guards patrolling the area. At the end of the corridor, it opened up to a wide main area, with an enormous chimney made within a pile of bones standing grandly in the very center. Many dragons were gathered here in groups of various sizes. Some were laughing and chatting merrily, while others wore sober expressions, speaking in whispers. Every dragon within the area were each eagerly consuming a hearty brunch that was set out before them. The smell made her stomach growl. She wondered where she could get some food for herself.

An old, dark colored Pearlcatcher wearing an unamused expression noticed her entry, and approached her.

"Who are you?" The Pearlcatcher asked.

"I am Eshlyn, I received a letter to join this clan-"

"Let me see that letter!" Before Eshlyn could speak, the Pearlcatcher ripped the letter out of her grasp with one of their claws, while the other clutched their pearl closely to their chest.

"I did not write this letter," the Pearlcatcher growled, "you must have arrived at the wrong clan."

"Is there another clan also called, 'The Darktouched Dragons' within the Rotrock Rim?" Eshlyn asked.

"Our clan's official name is, 'The Darktouched Beauties,' not , 'The Darktouched Dragons.' You have arrived at the wrong clan. Leave now, or I will summon the guards to forcefully escort you out."

"What is going on?" An older, kinder-looking Mirror interrupted.

"This dragon is lost," the Pearlcatcher casually explained, "they're looking to join a clan called, 'The Darktouched Dragons.'"

"We are 'The Darktouched Dragons,'" the mirror sighed, "let me see the letter." The Pearlcatcher reluctantly handed the letter over to the Mirror.

"That's....strange," the Mirror observed, "the letter describes our clan, yet I did not write this."

"I did not write it either."

"Then who did?" The Mirror pondered.

"I did," a voice boomed from behind. The dragons turned to see an old, male Imperial looming behind them. Although the Imperial was quite a bit smaller than Eshlyn, he was very intimidating, almost frighteningly so. The death seeker that had delivered the letter to Eshlyn and led her here was now perched atop their shoulder.

"YOU wrote this?" the Pearlcatcher snarled.

"Yes," the Imperial stated bluntly, "I have hired her as my apprentice."

"But where will she stay?" the Mirror inquired, "we are already short on space as is, I'm not sure we will have a den for her."

"There is room enough in my den for us both," the Imperial reassured, "come now Eshlyn, I already have two meals prepared for us in my den. We have much to discuss."

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe I caught your name."

"My apologies, it's rude of me as a master to not introduce themselves to their apprentice. I am Alberic, a sorcerer within this clan."

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[WIP]