Charole

Charole
• Weaponsmith and knight

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From a young age, Charole was aware of the flames of war, that seemed to dance in front of his eyes, under his skin and in his veins. The young Obelisk was aware of conflict- of strategies and skills that would either lead one to victory or to one's demise.

He was aware of it, and in his more military homeclan, it was appreciate how quickly the dragon seemed to learn and get stronger.

They called him the young prodigy, and the more Charole learned, the stronger he became. The stronger he became the more the leaders pushed him to be on the frontlines, and with every battle, Charole learned something new.

The dragon became known as the armored guardian, never seen without at least a few layers of steel to protect him, a sword and shield by his side always. He was hailed as the poster boy for all knights for his seemingly infinite loyalty to the clan he was in.

It was not infinite.

Charole cared for his home- cared DEEPLY for it- but not because of his loyalty to it.

He was loyal to the dragons he shared his home with, who he would protect until his very last breath, but he thought very little of those in charge, who did not know what lied beyond the walls of their luxurious manors and slept safely and comfortably every single night.

How little they knew of their own home, and the challenges and turmoil it faced.

Unfortunately, time waits for no-one, and Charole grew older- grew to see younger dragons surpass him, and he was at peace with it, quietly taking part in less and less fights, but providing invaluable support, even learning how to forge weapons from the very best his home had to offer.

...Still in armor, which got him a few odd looks.

News spread of Charole's decline- he was past his prime, washed-up to put it lightly- and so, nobles decided to reward him in the only way they could understand: by making him one of them.

...Which greatly offended the Obelisk.

Instead of listening to him, these crusty old fools had sat back and let so many tragedies happen- so many lives could've been spared if they had just opened their eyes and set foot outside; even just ONCE.

And they thought he'd be happy living the same life as them?! Disgusting!

Charole simply turned and left the room once it was announced, grabbing anything that held sentimental value to him and finally leaving his home, but not before urging others to do the same.

Many did, even more did not.

For a while, Charole and his followers were nomadic, but more and more broke off from the main group to settle down in diffrent clans they had met, until it was just the former knight left.

The somewhat older dragon wasn't really planning to settle down anywhere, but eventually he found a place to live in the dragonhome- far away from the roaring flames of war, far enough that even the fire in his veins fell somewhat more quiet.

The dragonhome was nothing like the fiery lands he once called home, but stories began to spread of a legendary weaponsmith, which drew in a crowd. Charole... wasn't sure why he had gotten the title of 'legendary' weaponsmith, but APPARENTLY no-one had ever seen a dragon forge weapons here.

Or maybe it was just that a few dragons had underestimated how weak he was- their form had been laughably bad, and did they really think they could intimidate him with a knife that was so dull it couldn't even be used to cut butter??? ...Seems like this was not going to be a relaxing 'retirement', especially when a strange deer-like creature began to follow him, occasionally singing songs. Charole has no idea why... but somehow the songs have an effect on the weapons he forges....

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Scarpride .

a An old friend who sadly fell during battle. While he was alive, Scarpride and Charole were like siblings, bickering and bantering and generally speaking getting along really well. The guardian's death greatly affected Charole, mostly because it could've been prevented so easily if certain dragons had just listened to him...