Obsidian

Obsidian was molded and strengthened by the harshness and insistence of the Scarred Wasteland. But behind the gruffness that most dragons recognize at first sight is a kind and caring heart, and a pair of talons that never failed to craft anything.

The armory of the clan was not something of significance. For those who don't know, it merely seems like a shack thrown together by metal and streaked with a casual obsidian. But simplicity lead to usefulness. (As I Believe). Inside of the shop was stacks of heated metals, swords, axes, and molds of a variety of tools. The finished pieces were hung on on the wooden walls, and a dirty, ruffled rug sat on the floor. But the shop was strangely neat, laid out in an orderly fashion. A Squall Rasa was using its horns to carve out intricate molds in metal. A dragon was sitting on a stool in front of the square fireplace (Shown on the Background), carefully putting iron from a wooden barrel into the jumping flames. He wore tough armorthat glistened and shone through the slivers and cracks carefully designed, and smoke engulfed the dragon, making his silhouette hard to recognize. Only when you saw the pearl curled in the crook of his tail did you know that it was a Pearlcatcher.