Dleddov had come to Darkling Dawn one day, wandering out of the forests as so many others had before him. The forested region he had found himself in was so vastly different from the rocky, mountainous fortress of Arx Atra Mons, and the generally warmer temperatures and brighter, sunnier days sat very well with him.
The human residents had recognised him immediately. His kind had a reputation throughout the Nexus. His kind were dangerous, quick to anger, were devoid of morals or any sort of emotion that was not negative. His kind were trouble, and they were not welcome.
Dleddov couldn't have cared less for their opinions, anyway, and couldn't even muster the emotion to feel angered at their hostility. He just would not leave his new home, which had lead to trouble with some of the Dragonry's more suspicious residents, even though there was no official rules against beings like him entering the dragonry; in fact, he was far from the first. But there was the reputation they had again, earned time and time again and proving to the others that their opinons about his kind were correct.
Dleddov didn't have anything to do with those dragons. Then the new Weyrwoman came, with her companion Ean and his massive thirteen-headed Cusith; at Rahel's behest, he took over the hydras and xenos and various unsavory dragons (as well as their riders, those who had them) and now they had to answer to him for their crimes, him and the ferocious hydra by his side. The rate of incidents involving hydras dropped signifigantly at Darkling Dawn after that.
Dleddov wasn't one to cause trouble in the first place. He preferred the forgotten corners of the Dragonry, the dark, abandoned tunnels and halls that nobody used anymore, that everybody else had forgotten about. He never met anyone else exploring, and he was satisfied with that. Until she appeared.
She looked lost and vulnerable, standing in the dark, with only the glow of her eyes and the faint sheen of her newly hatched golden hide and fiery-colored wings to let her see by. Dleddov laughed silently to himself, not wondering what the hatchling was doing in his tunnels, only what brief entertainment she could offer him. She strained to see him as he approached, the faint light not enough to let her see details, and she jumped backwards hasitly as a flame immerged from Dleddov's mouth, even though it was not aimed at her, but rather one of the torches lining the walls, lighting up the narrow tunnel.
Dleddov studied the hatchling; of plain Darkling Dawn-born stock, and clearly not more than hours old. Her rough skin was gleening gold with leftover liquids form her egg, and her wingsails looked as though a red-orange fire was encased within the thin membrane.
Eyeing her speculatively, he asked, Who are you? What are you doing here?
I-I don't know, I was just walking around. She stuttered nervously.
Dleddov lowered his head to sniff at her; she had a strange smell, as of something quite dead, but not really alive either... You smell young. Freshly hatched. It was a statement of fact, neither questioning nor accusing.
The hatchling bristled, a fiery light coming into her young eyes as she glared up at the much larger hydra. So? The reply was surprisingly sharp and brusque.
Suddenly amused, Dleddov snorted. He was pleased at the hatchling's unexpected fiery personality. Perhaps she'd be fun after all. I am Dleddov. What about you?
She blinked. What?
Your name. Dleddov prompted-had the hatchling not even decided? What is your name?
I-I don't have a name... Obviously, not.
Then choose one.
The hatchling stood silently for a moment, giving serious thought to it. Finally, she spoke up. It's...Asayichae.
Dleddov's twin jaws gaped in a draconic grin. Asayichae. He liked the sound of it. Oh yes, he thought he would definitely like this dragon...
The background was made by me, do not take without my permission.