Gaelan

Healer/herbalist, unlike the various mage medics she doesn't go out to battle, instead staying within the clan's borders and providing care to both clan-bound dragons and returning warriors.


Gaelan has always known that every antidote is made from poison. That healing isn't so easy as the first aid that can be provided by any dragon with adequate powers of focus. The herbs that line the walls of her cave have saved the lives of many of her clanmates, but handled improperly they could wipe out twice that number. And they have. Gaelan is no battle medic, high and mighty, claws glowing with concentrated power, but she can be just as deadly. Where the mages will have their flashy spells, Gaelan... well, your evening tea will taste a little off, one night. And then you won't wake up in the morning. Oh, she could kill spectacularly, produce hallucinations and seizure, but there would be no reason to do so. So instead, dragons die in their sleep. Just a few, and always for the good of the clan.

Most days, though, Gaelan is a healer. Dragons come to her with any ailment, from a sprained wing to an upset stomach, and they walk out with a treatment. It's peaceful work, and she enjoys it.

Gaelan took a deep breath, stepping back from the last row of mint plants. Covering her entire garden with enough mulch to survive the surprisingly biting winter of the seaward side of the Ruins had taken her longer than she had expected, but the plants that were too large to fit into her greenhouses, or too hardy to need it, were tidily prepared for the frost that would soon be covering the clan. The whole garden was well-lit by the soft glow of golden flowers, her own tribute to the Lightweaver in the dark winter, and quite useful as the last rays of the sun vanished below the horizon. She looked around as she walked through the twilight, watching her clanmates hanging lanterns everywhere to honor the Lightweaver through the darkest season, and smiled. The warmth of the teahouse enveloped her as she stopped there to relax with the others filtering in, and the low murmur that rose up as dragons discussed their winter preparations was a comfort that despite the coming darkness the clan would shine through.