Lightning struck a ground where there was once a frozen dragon egg. It's glow attracted a wandering couple, scared but so curious. They took the egg knowing that dragons are adaptive creatures. So whatever happens to the egg, will determine the kind of nature the creature.

They hoped for a good dragon, a new guardian for their people. They would take care of it, tell it stories of St.Nick., sing many song and at night they would feed it fire hoping to comfort the young heart within the cold crystal shell. In the eve of the winter a small but rapidly growing creature was born. They gave him a name, the old word for carols and joy.

He was indeed a good dragon, small, without horns and wingless, inferior in the eye of his kind. But then there is his breath, a magical combination of ice and thunder. It glows through his eyes and veins. It was a rare and dangerous weapon. Though he lacked the signature qualities of a true dragon, he had the mobility and finesse of a snake, able to stand and walk on his hind legs easily. Even in this pose he could run at unnatural speeds!

He owns a unique cloak and wears his family bell. He's sometimes seen carrying a wooden cane, he usually burns them accidentally. Awfully fond of alcohol and creamy deserts.