Typera

~Lore written by Toyoll

Typera is, foremost, a mother before all. A brave and deeply devoted dragon who cares for all her clanmates, kin and denmates alike.

She weilds the iron authority of a clan matron and she takes her duties seriously. As such, many of the younger dragons under her think of older wyrm as a dour or aloof character. Typera, however, does not see herself that way, in fact, she thinks of herself a quiet, but fun-loving female. Though she is prone to keeping a stiff upper lip, she can occasionally be found playing gently with the Clan's hatchlings or visiting with the familiars in their menagerie.

The to and fro of daily life is a hefty responsibility to begin with, but Typera finds herself saddled with the added weight of keeping her Clan safe from the constant threat of raids and incursions from the Beastfolk that prowl the outskirts of her cliffside home. Her mate, Zike, has been instrumental in keeping her territories secure and in keeping Typera's horns from sinking under stress of her situation.

Years of battle can be read in the scars that cover her hide, hundreds of pallid streaks slash her warm, sandy scales. The clan Leader abhors resorting to violence, but this was not always so.

In her younger years, as she sought out her Charge, the entrepid Typera had joined a small mercenary group. A band of loyal friends that she remains in contact with to this day. They fought in hundreds of battles and skirmishes, winning some, losing others, but it was one particular engagement that changed everything for the young Guardian.

Despite travelling far and wide across Sornieth, the Ecclesia Mercenary Corps were called back to her homeland of the Windswept Plateau.

The battle was one of the bloodiest in living memory. Hired to bolster the forces of a small Clan defending their territory from a larger and wealthier group, Typera and her comerades were vastly outnumbered. Despite this, the two sides matched up almost evenly and they very nearly obliterated eachother.

Finally the fighting came to a standstill. The larger clan had agreed to back down, but it was clear their clients, the smaller clan, were, for all purposes, extinguished.

Save for one, badly injured Guardian male.

As she cared for the bed-ridden Zike, Typera looked out across the battlefield and felt something well up inside her. She saw the golden cliffsides, the delicate blooms of small, alabaster flowers clinging to their sunsoaked faces, jutting out against the azure sky dotted with the silken whisps of clouds. She heard the wind singing through the sweet-smelling grasses that tufted the crowns of these plateaus and her heart soared up with the tall stalks of bamboo that clattered softly in the breeze.

Despite the carnage of the battle, the blood that stained this beautiful place, it captured her soul and it called out to her. Typera would fight ardently, with tooth and claw, to protect this valley. This was her Charge.

She eventually bid farewell to her mercenary friends as they travelled to another engagement, having chosen to stay with the recovering Zike in his breath-taking home. It would not be long before the pair developed a deep bond and, today, with their ever-growing Clan, they protect the legacy of those that lived here before them.