Kennigan

The distinct crack of bone, buzzing insects in a mad fervor, the reek of rotting meat, the festering stink of old blood, and the faint smell of oil..., these things precede the Plague-Father, Kennigan. His mad, empty eyes darting and glinting under his darkened hood, as a sickly foul smelling black ichor drips steadily from his disease riddled maw.

The Plague-Father is a devout creature, serving his beloved Plaguebringer with a religious sensibility bordering on the fanatical. His clan gives him a wide berth, lest they become subject to his... loving ministrations. Left to his own devices, Kennigan is content to reap sinew and muscle, skin and organ, to rot them in deep pits in his chambers and harvest the results. It is a task he takes to with great relish.

Kennigan adores wading into combat, intent on spreading his beautiful little gifts to all who are susceptible, one stinking claw and horrendous puss filled bite at a time.