I'm Imathil the faerie dragon. I'm green, with lovely sparkly wings and I suddenly popped out of the woods one day when a gang of adventuring elves and a sulking dwarf left their homes to save the Forgotten Realms from the vile dark elven mistress Larynda Glannath (long story).

My pet mage's name is Mirwen Aldahîni, and she always defends me. That's good, because I get into trouble all the time. She thinks of course that I'm her familiar, but I'm not really. I just felt like showing up when she cast a ``Find Familiar'' spell. Really, as if I am a psuedo-dragon who is willing to be the slave of some wisened old mage!

I like elves, but other people can be a problem.Take this dwarf for instance. He insisted that he needed a ``blunderbus'' to defend himself. The first time he used it I was scared silly by the terrible thunder noise it makes. So, next time I changed the sound of the blunderbus into birdsong. And the dwarf went completely bananas, with ugly comments like "that animal should be caged" and the like! Tsk, tsk. No wonder his next beer tasted of a more developed sense of humour.

I don't know about that apple pie thing, to me it's blueberries instead. And I've got a cousin who likes cherries. Practically all my spells are related to blueberries too -- when I ``Enlarge'' the elven fighter he gets a neat bluish color for the duration of the spell. I can ``Create Blueberries'', and my ``Grease'' spell is all yummy blueberry jam!

The only time I've regretted being an incorrigible prankster was when we met a very young relative of mine, who created blueberries in Mirwens backpack....and completely ruined her spellbook! Ouch, ouch, ouch, I wasn't very popular on that particular adventure, but I got her a bag of holding to compensate for the loss. When did you last hear about a familiar who purchases magical items for her pet mage?

My day of fame came when we were trying to destroy a darkness device operated by the malevolent dark elves. The machine had a "power scale", mindflayer I snatched a dagger and inserted it into the mechanism AND made an illusion to make it look like the machine was losing power.The dark elves eagerly turned on more power- and the whole thing blew itself to bits. My wings ended up charcoal, but I survived to be healed again.

I have a breath weapon and it is of mighty use for the odd emergency rescue. But it seems I am allergic to strong perfumes (I sneeze euphoria gas uncontrollably), and in company that tends to be rather annoying-for everybody else. But it's alright, a troll does look rather stupid when he stands smiling blissfully and not remembering the bad, bad elves that tried to hit him just now.

My favorite hobby right now is to divebomb undead critters with holy water vials, but adventurous life can be too much sometimes, and the campaign fell asleep anyway. If you want to visit, I live in the forest near Neverwinter. And now I suppose my player would want to say something too, so I'll go find me some blueberries!