Sluagh - Dragonling
Flying, lizard-like creatures that breathe fire and greedily amass treasure, the creatures known to the people of Tamriel as Dragonlings have understandably been mistaken as a variant of the fearsome Dragons of old. However, no evidence exists which connects the two races. These creatures prefer to nest in the woodlands across the Iliac Bay region, but have been seen as far to the east as northern Black Marsh.
To the public, they are but a menace. They are infamous for attacking those who wonder too far off the patrolled roads, for snatching up pets and small cattle, and starting fires for no apparent reason. But, to those few who have learned to speak their musical language, these beings are known to be fiercely loyal, surprisingly cunning, and capable of powerful emotions.
In ancient Galenic mythology, surviving today among some traditionalist Bretons, the dragonlings are not associated with their namesake at all. The galenic word for these beings means "host" or "army". The slaugh were said to be mischievous spirits of the dead, whose madness kept them from finding rest in the Garden of Ten-Thousand Skies.
It was believed that their swarms portend doom. Indeed, dragonlings are known to congregate in massive vortexes, spinning for hours for no apparent reason, echoing simple, panicked phrases that can only loosely translate to "Danger!". These invariably happen days before earthquakes, forest fires, or other, less natural calamities. Dragonlings in this state can rarely be reasoned with or made to elaborate, and when their flock does settle down, they will do anything to vacate the area.
Because the Druids of Galen recognized their apparent precognition, the real oracle magic practiced by dragonlings have become a closely studied, though still elusive subject among modern mages. The Galenics typically minimized contact with the slaugh out of deference to their temperament but it is now believed that some may have actually spoken their language and held friendships with them. There is a growing movement to use the galenic term for dragonlings over their misconception-causing common name.
The Sluagh
The Charm
The societal structure of Dragonlings is quite alien to the human races. They have no tribes, cultures, or homeland which they recognize. Instead, they form ad-hoc flocks to migrate and to protect themselves from large threats, then break off as individuals to feed and to nest. Because of this, dragonlings associate with others of their kind for only a few days at a time, and are rarely with the same group twice. This has led to a broad gradient of overlapping cultural tendencies across the entire span of their species territory. The stories they tell warn of dangers and new changes in the places they've been, of their hopes and their fears, and their favorite flavor of field mouse. They rarely delve into the realm of folklore or myth, but there are a few interesting motifs which scholars have been able to glean that seem to have propagated throughout the species lexicon. One such motif has been dubbed The Charm by scholars. Its intonations suggest a great change in their kind. It starts with a far-past age where they, the dragonlings, were far larger, and could easily eat even the largest of human-prey unchallenged. But then something came from The Sky, causing devastation. Giants, or serpents, or angels came from the clouds and sang to them, and when they sang, the dragonlings could no longer sing their own song. They were compelled to only sing the song of the strangers. And through this, they grew smaller and weaker, and starved as they were forced to give their food and their treasure to the strangers. This was a long and painful period. But one day, a new song started in the west. A dragonling song. Like the strangers' song, it too was contagious. But as it spread, it freed the dragonlings who sang it, and they happily sang it to others. And when the strangers heard it, it hurt them. Though they were diminished, they sang and they flew together, and they drove them back, not into the sea, but into The Sky where they could not land for food or rest. And so, they all starved and weakened until they fell to the earth, where they were easy prey to the humans and beasts of the ground. Some believe this song suggests a conflict with the legendary Dovah, the true dragons of old. Dragons were said to have first invaded Tamriel when their vassals, the Atmorans began their empire in what is now Skyrim. All Tamrielic cultures are full of legends of dragons, and those stories often overlap with tales of dragonlings, with little to distinguish which is which. However, few true historical dragons have ever been proven to exist, with most archeological and paleontological evidence concentrated in the nordic homeland. If "The Sky," which has unusually formal intonations in this context, is indeed mountainous Skyrim, a conflict with dragonlings could explain why their reach had been so limited. The historical territory of sluagh spans the northern half of the continent, but their numbers have always been lower in Skyrim itself. However, for nords who live in the border territories, an alternative interpretation has become popular. To the nords, dragons had been false gods who controlled and exploited them in the ancient past. Through the intervention of the goddess Kyne, they gained the power to overthrow them, and have hunted them to near extinction in the millennia since. They believe that the serpents from The Sky are in fact the ancient nords, empowered by Kyne to shout their own draconic language back at them. And that the once-immortal dragons learned to shout themselves into smaller pieces, becoming the diminished, forest-dwelling creatures they are today, surviving by reproducing like the lowly beings they once enslaved. And, in a last act of cowardice, they have revised their own history to their descendants, reframing their role as the slaves who overthrew their masters, and as victims of a curse they inflicted upon themselves.Loyalty
Dragonlings have a long contentious history with their ground-dwelling neighbors. Men and mer who have dealt with their kind typically see them as dangerous monsters to slay, or as nuisances at best. They do not give names to their enemies, but never forget their face or smell, and hold lifelong grudges. Someone who has slighted a dragonling can expect to be followed, pestered, tormented, or even outright murdered if they don't kill the creature first. But a very lucky few have befriended dragonlings through history, earning lifelong friendship. It is not recommended to try to befriend a dragonling unless one knows their language. No generation passes without a farmer gaining notoriety for offering treasure or food to try and win the loyalty of a dragonling. Though they are perfectly capable of understanding the intent, a dragonling is more likely to interpret a gift as an offering, and will quickly come to expect such treatment on a regular basis. If not kept at bay, they are likely to take their sadistic revenge. Such cautionary tales are taught throughout the Iliac Bay to children. Many have also tried to keep dragonlings as pets or servants, and found similar fates. Even raised from an egg, the sluagh react violently to attempts at coercion and restraint. Breton legend tells of a king whose entire kingdom fell to ruin when a dragonling he had hatched and trained as a hunting companion escaped. The creature had been named Stormwing. Their wings had been clipped so as not to fly too far, and a collar enchanted to prevent them from breathing fire. They were otherwise well-fed and cared for by the king's beast-keepers. They seemed docile and happy for many years. What the king did not realize at the time was that Stormwing had learned more than the handful of hunting commands in his language. Stormwing had spent their days listening intently to castle gossip, secret meetings, and citizen petitions. Only after learning every secret his kingdom had, they escaped. The creature spent a year seeding locusts onto the fields which swarmed right at the start of harvest. When the king attempted to annex a small and defenseless duchy to feed his people, they intercepted carrier pigeons bearing troop movements and supply lines and delivered those secrets to the duke's conscripts, winning them the war. They delivered gold to all the king's servants, allowing them to move their families and establish new lives elsewhere. They swapped the king's son with a changeling who wreaked havoc in the empty castle. Just when all seemed hopeless, they returned with an army of their kind, driving away everyone left alive in the kingdom. The king spent the rest of his life trapped in his castle, the tormented plaything of a thousand tiny, ruthless dragons.Naming Traditions
Unisex names
Dragonling names do not translate into human language. They speak in chirps and squawks with varying tones and harmonies that can vary even on an individual level. A "name" to a dragonling is more like a leitmotif, a repeating theme which other speakers may echo in their own song to indicate or address them. They may even give leitmotifs to humans they have become close friends with.
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