PrettyWicked's Clan

Once a booming clan of over 60 headed up by an insatiable leader, the Wicked are now a husk of their former glory at 12 survivors. It was through no fault of their own- the Plague Dragons are ruled by their burning need for pilgrimage to their Goddess Plaguebringer's spawning grounds. It was a dangerous journey, but one all Plagueborn must take. Achalasia had rallied her troops in a push from the Wandering Contagion into the Abiding Boneyard many years ago. The time was right, and her followers were many. Though some were expected to fall along the way, the Wicked had every right to believe that the odds were in their favour. Progeria, the clan Seer, voiced some concern that their time was not yet at hand, but the temptation to meet the Plaguebringer was too strong. The clan gathered, organized, and set course for the heartland of Scarred Wastelands.

The Abiding Boneyard met them with an endless expanse of spares no-man's-land, as told by the legends. Scorched earth and bleached bones stretched beyond the horizons of Rosacia's vision as she scouted ahead for her clan. When night fell on the fifth night, so did the majority of the family. Aberrant mutants rose up from the earth and attacked the travelers, tearing through the ranks and spreading vile contaminants among the survivors. The monsters smashed nests, dragged denmothers from their lairs, and crushed the warriors on the front lines with animal ferocity. These were the infected victims of other clans, non-plague dragons who had wandered too close to the Plaguebringer and had been turned to exact her revenge. They had no mercy.

The clan as a whole has been forged in fire. The attack wiped out almost everyone, but those who are left are bound by unbreakable bonds of mutual determination Now, the Wicked are lead forward by Abrasion. He's an emaciated wraith of an imperial, eternally bleeding from the battle with the Great Death. Bereft by the loss of his children and haunted by his inability to fight off the onslaught of the Boneyard, he is softspoken at most. Despite this, he is universally feared and respected as the unquestioned leader of the clan- no survivor will forget the nightmarish scenes of carnage of gore with him, snarling in the center that night. His mate, Guacoma, is equally as quiet. Her duties as Spiritualist include the rites of the dead, as well as helping the suffering pass into the afterlife. She's often seen just outside of Abrasion's lair, acting as his proxy to the clan on days where his past catches up to him. Progeria, the ancient Seer, still casts her weary eyes to the future for signs and portents of the next opportunities to move deeper into the lands of their Goddess. She's attended to constantly by a the medicine woman Toxicity and her apprentice/daughter Scarlatina, in additional to Abriasion's daughter Kuru. The wraith's child showed signs of a Seer shortly after her trauma from the Great Death, and has since seen Progeria as her mentor. When the Kuru isn't attending to her teacher, she's dreamily undulating around the camp, or blowing off steam flying around with Scarlatina and Delirium, the Gatherer. Spending the day scouring the earth for food can get tiring, especially when escorted by a few businesslike warriors in case of attack. Jaundace, both her father and a warrior, was plenty of fun to hang out with when the focus wasn't on survival. The topic would make anyone a bit on-edge. He and the other warriors, Lesion and Chalazion, regularly patrol their camp both day and night. Whoever if off-duty either escorts Delirium or helps her look after Myaisis, the orphan. The other eggs in her clutch had been stomped to bits during the Great Death, and her parents had fallen of disease shortly before she'd hatched. As the only hatchling left, the clan as a whole had moved in to fill the role of partents in her life. She's a feisty little thing with the makings of a warrior, pouncing on anything that moves and viciously gumming it to death in the harsh desert sun.