Durendal

Born from carved dragon bone, donated blood, and the magic of her parents, a group of secretive mages deep underground brought Durendal into the world. From the moment she hatched out of her artificial egg, they taught her how to fight. Her first memories were of a training dummy and the feeling of its blood soaked wood under her teeth.

Instead of taking up a sword or weapon, she preferred to attack with teeth and claws. After all, how else would she absorb all the delicious blood she needed to survive? Getting up close and personal, letting the blood of her enemies soak into her body, that was how she liked doing things.

While she did enjoy the thrill of battle and the feeling of flesh under her claws, she didn't seek it out unless she needed to feed. Indiscriminate killing wasn't appealing to her, she wanted a fair fight. So what if she lost? All it took was some blood and bone and she was back good as new.

Her cockiness was soon beaten out of her when she found herself half dead and alone out in the Abiding Boneyard after trying to feed on the wrong familiar. She thought herself invincible, so who cared if the Snapper and Mirror duo was still around, she could easily defeat them both. She was wrong.

Without anyone to help her, she was forced to crawl back to her clan, bones broken and missing, blood smearing the ground behind her. She could have easily died if the duo had wanted her to, and the experience made her much more cautious about throwing herself into battle recklessly.

While she loved her birth clan dearly, she soon felt that she had learned everything they could teach her. She set out on her own to see the world and learn what she could, staring in the Tangled Wood. The trip through the Foxfire Bramble was easy. Thorns couldn't truly pierce blood after all.

She found herself right at home in the wood. Most dragons wouldn't look at her twice in the perpetual gloom, assuming the viscous blood that made up her body was simply shimmering scales. It was there she learned how to bargain, how to cheat, and how to manipulate. Though she despised dirty tricks in battle, she found she enjoyed them when it came to games and trade. Still, she would not swindle or cheat against anyone who did not deserve it. Unless it was funny.

She easily amassed a small fortune by swindling crooked merchants. Not having any use for the coin, she would turn around and give it away to clans that were struggling. Though sometimes she would give a ton to a hatchling that caught her eye just to cause some mischief.

Once she had perfected her art, she moved on north to Dragonhome. She wasn't in the lands long before a clan of dragons found her. Without the cover of darkness, her bloody body was on full display, and that's what caught the clan's attention. They recognized her as a construct of some sort and wanted desperately to study her and take her secrets for themselves.

Durendal wouldn't allow it. She knew the secrets of her birth should not be handed out to any random clan. She needn't have worried though, the clan were poor fighters and she chased them off easily enough.

They wouldn't give up though, dogging her every step across the Shattered Plain. She believed she had lost them when she hadn't seen them in a while, but unbeknownst to her they had hired a mercenary to hunt her down.

When the Imperial showed up asking for a fight, she thought nothing of it. She knew she looked monstrous, and dragons were scared of what they didn't understand. He didn't seem to be that kind of dragon, but she had long since learned to not judge a book by its cover. She accepted his request and attacked.

The battle was hard fought. He was good, much better than most dragons she fought against, and she found herself falling to his blade. Something was different this time. Instead of being able to reform near immediately, she melted into his sword.

When she next awoke, the clan that had hunted her before surrounded her. Reading herself for a fight, the Imperial that had slain her surprised her by jumping to her aid. Together they easily ran the clan off. After the excitement, she realized she felt… hollow. At the same time she felt a deep power radiating from the Imperial's sword. Without a second thought, she invited the Imperial to join her on her way to her birth clan.

They didn't say much on their journey, neither of them being much of a talker in the first place. They did find they enjoyed each other's company, and Durendal liked the Imperial's dry humor. She wasn't surprised to find he didn't have a name, it suited him somehow. A wander traveling the world alone with nothing but his sword, why would he need a name?

It felt good to return home, and she happily introduced the Imperial to everyone. They welcomed him into the clan, gave him rank, and even a name. Roland the wanderer was no wanderer any more. He wouldn't be single any longer either, if she had her way.

- Written by Hearthdragons