Ceionius

A dragon wanders toward your lair, appearing curious and friendly.

Looking you over, they seem to approve. Quietly, either due to their nature or in an effort to seem polite, they initiate conversation.

“Hello.”

They look over to what they assume to be your lair. It’s obvious that they have sparsely—if ever—left their clan up to this point, and they still have much to learn about the world.

“I like your home.”

It is clear that the dragon is not fully familiar with proper conversation, perhaps from a sheltered life. Still, they seem kind.

“Do you have room for one more?”

As if to excuse themselves of their previous statement, they add:

“I don’t have to stay here; but whether I stay or go, to commemorate my travels, I would like a name—from you. You can even send me to serve your god. Or I will happily live with you, or move on. It is your choice.”

They wait, eager to behold your decision.

The Matriarch of the clan cranes forward from her perch to look upon this newcomer, crest rippling in consideration. "We're a diverse lot here," she says, "And unafraid of adventures. In this lair... yes, I think we can find a place for you." She leans back, resettling. "As for a name: we call you Ceionius."

Journal Entry: I've been put to work in the clan's hatchery. It's a riot of color here, but the hatchlings are a delight. At first I was nervous, but they like to hear stories about Octavious Colossusbane, which makes it easy to keep them all entertained. Many of these hatchlings will go on to serve the gods, but some--like me--will find themselves in new clans. Either way, they'll be a credit to their upbringing here.

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