To any dragonborn, the clan is more important than life itself. These dragonborn often boast scales that more closely match those of their dragon ancestor-bright red, green, blue, or white, lustrous black, or gleaming metallic gold, silver, brass, copper, or bronze. The blood of a particular type of dragon runs very strong through some dragonborn clans. Their hands and feet are strong, talonlike claws with three fingers and a thumb on each hand. They are tall and strongly built, often standing close to 6½ feet tall and weighing 300 pounds or more. Their small, fine scales are usually brass or bronze in color, sometimes ranging to scarlet, rust, gold, or copper-green. The first dragonborn had scales of vibrant hues matching the colors of their dragon kin, but generations of interbreeding have created a more uniform appearance. Proud Dragon Kinĭragonborn look very much like dragons standing erect in humanoid form, though they lack wings or a tail. Some dragonborn are faithful servants to true dragons, others form the ranks of soldiers in great wars, and still others find themselves adrift, with no clear calling in life. Shaped by draconic gods or the dragons themselves, dragonborn originally hatched from dragon eggs as a unique race, combining the best attributes of dragons and humanoids. But the shift of scales, the arch of a ridge, the set of his eyes, the gape of his teeth-her father’s face spoke volumes.īut every scale of it, this time, seemed completely still-the indifference of a dragon, even to Farideh.īorn of dragons, as their name proclaims, the dragonborn walk proudly through a world that greets them with fearful incomprehension. A human who couldn’t spot the shift of her eyes or Havilar’s would certainly see only the indifference of a dragon in Clanless Mehen’s face. The sword at his back was the same, though, the one he had carried since even before he had found the twins left in swaddling at the gates of Arush Vayem.įor all her life, Farideh had known that reading her father’s face was a skill she’d been fortunate to learn. There was a blazon on his arm as well, the mark of some foreign house. His familiar well-worn armor was gone, replaced by violet-tinted scale armor with bright silvery tracings. The scales of his face had grown paler around the edges, but Clanless Mehen still looked as if he could wrestle down a dire bear himself. Her father stood on the first of the three stairs that led down from the portal, unmoving.

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