---

The tundra bustles about his office with a scattering of loose fur and feathers, his extra eyes blinking and roving about, missing nothing around him as he works. Abariel pauses after examining a letter, seemingly for the third or fourth time, and scribbles something down on a loose scrap of parchment which he then pins to the board above his desk.

“And that’s another hundred thousand and some…” he murmurs, “We’ll have to see if the treasury approves it.”

They will, eventually, when Plague holds dominance. Remaking yourself in the image of how you desire isn’t cheap, after all!

---

Abariel is the keeper and executor of the plans of other dragons of Haven who wish to change their forms. Is he an angel of sorts? Perhaps. What allegiance does he hold in that regard? Unclear, and unimportant to his role in Haven beyond the fact that he’s quite literally a miracle worker. He collaborates closely with Haven’s financial administration to make sure the individual burden on a dragon seeking change isn’t too high, and then procures the necessary items in order to fulfill their wishes through whatever means are necessary—visiting far-off marketplaces, requesting coliseum fighters search for certain materials, bringing items to Baldwin the Bogsneak, sending dragons to Arlo’s digsites in search of artifacts, you name it, he’s had a hand in it.

Some question if the power he holds to give dragons a change of form is truly real or an illusion. In some cases, merely illusory. In all others, however, it is quite real. (But, some are keen to point out—would it really matter if they were or weren’t?)