Flammis the Dragon

Flammis is a rather eccentric dragon to say the least. He inhabits the mountains to the east of Alexander. He is almost a thousand years old, one of the most ancient in Jera. He remembers well the great war and the unfortunate impact that it had on his tomato crop that year. As humans in the autumn year of their life tend to "settle down," such has been the case with Flammis. Others belonging to dragonkind even imply that he is a bit daft. This couldn't be closer to the truth. For the most part though, Flammis is just a tired dragon that just wants to be left in peace.

Upon realizing that the world was closing in on him with the advance of the humans centuries before, Flammis came to the conclusion that he would have to be able to live a low profile life or become, like most others of his kind, extinct. The mannish races see dragons as the ultimate conquest and proof positive of a hero's worth. Slaying a dragon drew praise, titles, and honor, where the raising of fine tomatoes yielded none such renown. As part of his scheme to keep a low profile, Flammis found that burning villiages and stealing their cattle for food was the less than desireble route. Tact came hard to this dragon, but necessity can cause one to act completely against thier nature.

So it was that Flammis took to raiding farms in secret to steal their cattle rather than in full fiery arial assault, which was a real pity, for that was what Flammis was truly gifted at. Well, retooling happens to us all. In any case, Flammis learned to raise cattle. One thing that he was incredibly gifted with were eyes like a hawk. He would spy on the ranchers for hours, watching their day to day chores. After rather discouraging results mounting a horse, Flammis decided that he would just have to accomplish the herding of animals on foot or in the air. The latter worked out very well it turned out, and before long, Flammis was one of the more successful ranchers in all of Asterland. Unfortunately being a dragon comes with some natural disadvantages, one of which was a metabolism that required food in large quantities. According to Flammis' calculations, he would have to have a herd sufficiently large to yield two full-grown cows per week, just to keep him fed in any sort of acceptable manner. This he accomplished, and then some.

The dragon-turned-rancher drew the attention of the trolls and ogres of the region, who had lived in fear of the ancient wurm for years. It was with little coaxing that the Broken Arm League agreed to a coexistence treaty shortly thereafter. It was on the whole simple, with verbage somthing to the effect,"You not kill me, I not eat you." This seemed perfetly equittable to all involved, and some goodwill was formed to the extent that the orcs would work odd jobs for the dragon in exchange for the quality meat that Flammis produced. It seemed like there was always a fence to mend or cattle to tend to, and thus many of the orcs and trolls found gainful employment in a world where safety was hard to come by with the encroaching humans and elvenkind and their land rush. In time there would be no place for a monster to live without the constant threat of the do-gooding warriors from the west. Flammis spent much time lamenting his fate and reliving "the good old days" of times past.