Andromeda

ANDROMEDA

Metalworker, Priestess

Determined, stubborn, and reckless, Andromeda did what she set out to accomplish: Make a name for herself. She's a dragon who knows what she wants and will do anything to make it happen. She is dedicated to whatever she does and is a natural born leader, though she does not mind not leading. She's hardworking and enjoys it, though she prefers to work alone. She does get a bit irate when Perseus tries to help her, though she does know he has good intentions. She does not make friends easily due to her stubborn and all-out nature, but when she does, she loves them fiercely and would give her right leg for them if they needed it. She is never content and is constantly thinking forward to the future to better herself or the clan.



Although she was originally from the frigid Southern Icefield, Andromeda crossed the sea and found herself in Ashfall Waste, where she wandered into the Emberglow Hearth for a long time, the volcano to the West and then to the Southwest always a point of direction for her, leading her to wherever she was supposed to go, each step on the hot ground stinging and burning the bottom of her feet. Then she entered The Molten Scar, where she had trouble finding her footing, the burns from the molten rock searing up her legs as she trod on in agony, praying to The Icewarden, and then to the Flamecaller, as this was her domain.

She was horrified to find her legs were charred and dark, marring her once pure beauty. She wished she had never left her home and prayed again to the Flamecaller, pleading with her to quell the fires that tormented her so. With no answer, Andromeda kept walking, hoping to find some sanctuary somewhere so she could rest.

As she climbed up to The Blacksand Annex, her legs sunk into the soft terrain and scalded her belly, leaving burns up the bottom of her tail and neck. She mourned the loss of herself as she once was and prayed again, asking for something, anything to make her beautiful again. She heard no response, and struggled to keep going, her wings drooping and singeing in the lava around her. The ground shifted and she fell to her side with a pained screech, scrambling to get up out of the hot silt that was quickly burning her. She stopped to survey the damage. Her entire left side and her wing was burned black. She shuddered in pain as she moved, but she had a strong drive to get to The Great Furnace; something was pulling her there.

It was weeks before she got out of the Annex. Her whole body was shivering and blackened with ash from the many times she fell or the ground spit out molten rock at her. She was no longer beautiful like ice, like home. She was scarred by this horrid place. But she would get to the top of this volcano if it killed her.

With the last bit of energy she had left, one last heave, she dragged herself to the very top and laid down to pant and rest. She hadn't been able to find food on the volcano, but she refused to stop, the only thing keeping her going was pure will power. She let out a feeble prayer to the Flamecaller and closed her eyes, thinking that she would die now.

A gentle touch made her open her eyes again. Her breath left her. She'd only seen idols of her, carvings. But here she was standing before her, The diety Andromeda had been pleading to this entire time. She looked down at her lovingly and Andromeda thought she was saved, but the Flamecaller picked her up in her claws and dropped her into the Furnace. In her horror, she tried to fly, but her wing was still battered and she fell anyways. She closed her eyes and accepted that this was her fate, to melt into the volcano by the Flamecaller's own claws...

But she was not burning. She opened her eyes and looked around, feeling a bit panicked, as she was slowly sinking into Molten lava, but she wasn't burning. It didn't hurt. In fact, it felt as if her past wounds were being healed. She felt her scales meld together, but it felt like putting on armor and less like she was being burned alive. Her lungs took in air much easier now and She lifted her wings, driving them down to lift her up and out of the Furnace much faster than she could ever fly before. She landed on the rim of the Volcano and looked around, but the Flamecaller was gone. Andromeda looked at herself next and found she was sleek and shiny, her scales as hard as metal. The ground no longer burned her feet. She felt rejuvenated; reborn. The greatest metalworker had worked her into a piece of art.





On the way down the Volcano, Andromeda met a young male Bogsneak who looked almost as sleek as she. She became fond of him and took him as her mate. She found a clan in the Blacksand Annex that gladly took her in and she took on metalworking with the two mated Wildclaws that were currently the clan's blacksmiths'.

She decided that she wanted to be as talented a metalworker as the diety that saved her and devoted her life to metal and to the Flamecaller. Her mate was not as keen on serving the Flamecaller as she was, but she convinced him over time. She became significantly less concerned with her beauty and more concerned with her skills and was overall, happier.

Andromeda heard from across the seas that other dragons had the same coat of armor as she, but it did not quell any respect she had for her diety. She had been given a gift and she loved the Flamecaller for it.



Andromeda had had a goal as soon as she'd stepped off the mountain with Perseus, but she found it hard to find time to try to achieve it before she'd finished learning metalworking from Flint and Ore. She took several weeks off from clan-work to start on her goal and she was relentless as she worked to find a way to make Perseus as shiny as she was. She wanted to give him what the Flamecaller had given her.

She refused to leave the workshop she'd been provided until her stomach felt like there were little dragons clawing at the inside of it and she could barely lift the bellows. She knew Perseus would be worried, but she ignored him for the most part, knowing that if she let him distract her with his comfort, she would want to stop.

At first, she wasn't really sure in what shape a magical item should be to change a gene, but she'd heard of scrolls that did that, even in her sheltered life. It took her several tries, but she eventually found a nice long piece of parchment while she went out to scavenge and dig for things. She got the help of the clan Seer, Ithrakusor, with weaving magic into the parchment and the metal that would hold the ends and make it a scroll. Andromeda was an eager learner of magic, and she only let Ithrakusor teach her how so that she could do it herself.

It was a complex magic and it took a long time for it to seep into the materials, and even longer for Andromeda to fold it into the metal so that it would take effect when the scroll was opened. It was at this time that her mate decided he'd bring her food whether she agreed or not. She allowed it, so long as he was silent and did not touch anything, just in case some magic wasn't contained and it could hurt him.

When she was finally done, she dragged herself out of her workshop, scroll in her claws, and collapsed. She was exhausted. She hadn't slept that much during this whole process and ate little. She let herself doze for a while, only to be woken up by Perseus trying to thank her, a shiny coat of armor donning his hide. She was tired and growled at him, but she was glad that he appreciated it so much.



Andromeda was disappointed when Ithrakusor and others left the clan, but welcomed the newcomers with the warmth that she herself had felt drawn to when she first came to this place. But still, she felt disappointed that she did not get to say goodbye to the Seer, even after her help with the scroll.

Andromeda had been working on something new, as always. She wanted her wings to have the same sheen as the rest of her, and she'd have it if she was able. The new seer, Ithrakusor's Protege, Serendipity, had been helping her with this one and was not really much help, pretty thing that she was. Andromeda didn't really mind, she was learning to be more patient and she no longer chased Perseus out of their shared workspace in a rage.