Many view Halone as hard, unyielding, cold, and in many ways they are right. To truly BE war, of all things, one must be a rock amongst the flurry of emotion and turmoil the word itself invokes. Even those that stand as pillars desire love, though, and so Halone took a lover and his name was Ishgauren.
She gifted him with a spear of great strength. It was a wild thing in spirit, the body of the spear curving in waves, over and around itself in roiling indigo with a spine of red, wings of spattered fire, horns of ebony and then tipped at the lancehead with burning frost. She thought it a very fine gift, all at once alive and full of a secret passion, like her love for the man she'd taken to bed. We know this spear now as the Gáe Bulg.
The people of Halone's lover were so impressed with him, with the very idea that he could capture the heart of The Fury, that they made him their leader. From then, they called their home after Halone's lover: Ishgard.
Unfortunately for the Ishgardians, one who catches the eye of Halone is sure to have a heart full of War itself, and though he was a just ruler, Ishgauren was blind to simple diplomacy.
The Prince of Dragons had come to call at Ishgard's gates, humble and kind, despite the monstrous visage he presented to the Ishgardians. He'd come, not from the sky, but slithering on his belly, taking every respectful detail into account in his shrewdness, to ask for help.
In truth, the tale is so old now, so shrouded in blood that no one quite remembers what the dragons wanted in the first place.
Before the Prince had even finished his request, King Ishgauren spat at his feet.
"Cannot the dragons support themselves? Look at you, a great beast and you coming crawling to my people for support? You'll have none of it. My spear will not lead your charge."
He turned from the gate, but paused, turning back to the Prince of Dragons. He considered the beastly monarch for a moment, then hurled the Gáe Bulg, catching the Prince's wings afire. A great roar of loss and torment echoed across still-green Coerthas, bringing a chill to the air, despite the great burning wings at its heart.
"This is only what you deserve for your frivolous demands! So you have come, so you shall go, on your belly, Monster!" Ishgauren cried as the Prince took to the sky, flapping and fluttering for all he was worth for the West.
It was too late of course. Once he had landed and had his wings tended to, they were mere shadows of the great eclipses they had once been. His people wept great, giant tears for their Prince, so many, so much that they created the lakes in the West past Riversmeet which we now call Ashpool and Banepool. At the center of Ashpool, the Prince came to rest.
Once the Draconian people had collected their mutual sorrows and tucked them bravely away, the Prince told them of Ishgauren's spear. They had heard rumors of its source and the set out straight away to find the Goddess of War.
It was easy to locate the Goddess. She stood atop a knoll, blissfully watching a pair of brothers bicker over a girl. Sometimes you just had to get back to the basics.
The Prince was upon her in a moment, pinning her form to the ground with his mass. He curled his neck, bringing his steaming nostrils close to her stoic features and he growled deep in the cavity of his chest.
And Halone wept. Not from fear, but but in joy.
The creature before her was perfect, armor clad and full of a fury so intense, she shook at the feeling of it. Then she wrapped her arms around his horn'd head and kissed his furious snout. The prince was stunned into submission.
"Beautiful creature," Halone spoke then, "tell me your name, give me your love. I must have you for my own."
Stumbling for only a moment, the Prince replied, "My name is my secret, my soul and it is not for you Goddess... unless..."
Halone, like a child, sprang his trap, answering immediately, "Unless?"
"Restore my wings, Goddess, and give my the power to save my people. Give me the power to take vengeance on he who has ravage me so." And he lifted his wait from her and permitted her to stand.
She gasped at the sight of what surely must have been grand wings and tucked her chin in one resolute nod. "You shall have both in one."
Again, out of nothing, Halone wound two wild spiralling spears of passion. These two were red and yellow and all of fire and wing. These were the Gáe Buide and Gáe Derg and she entrusted them to the Prince's secret soul. All at once his wings were ablaze, but with his own fire and with Halone's.
Without waiting for another word from the Goddess, the Prince shot into the sky and toward the city that had shamed him.
The war went on for years, is still going on now, in fact, as most of you probably know. King Ishgauren fell early in the battle, his pride not allowing him to leave the frontlines. His people took his spear and his secret soul and bound them up in holy spells and they still wander the land now in one form of another. Some people call them the Azure Dragoon.
And Halone forever watches the war between her two loves, something of a blushing bride at the whirl of passion and hate between their two peoples. In fact, she was so inspired by their war, their first battle with the gifts she had bestowed, she took their likeness for her sigil: three helixing spears aloft.