Verdigris

Verdigris wakes just before dawn every day, but never gets to see the pearly beauty of the sunrise on the snowpack. Her vision, which was never strong, has faded to the point where she can only discern soft patches of light and dark. Still, she uses the grey smudge of sun to orient herself facing south, because that is where the Icewarden dwells.

Devotees of the Lord of the Fortress of Ends don't pray, exactly. Instead, Verdigris lets the perennial cold suffuse her, ecstatic with how clean and sharp it feels to freeze. A thin shell of ice may crystallize over her scales, but this is the perfect focus for purging all conscious thought. Sometimes, a veil of fallen snow will cover her within minutes, but still, she stands motionless until the sun is well over the horizon. She never lets herself shiver.

Of course the ritual is painful, but frigid agony is the whetstone she must hone herself on if she wants to become as holy as Ice itself.

Naturally, Verdigris takes on the religious instruction of the clan's hatchlings, even personally training and preening those selected for exaltation. She tells them that the highest honor, given to only the most pristine dragons, is to be frozen in one of Lord Icewarden's spires, so that you may decorate His realm and bring pleasure to His eyes for all eternity.

Occasionally a curious hatchling might ask why she herself does not opt for exaltation, to which she protests that she will never be worthy... and besides, Lord Icewarden needs servants everywhere, not just in His Immortal Fortress. Only the luckiest may attend him personally.

Otherwise, Verdigris doesn't interact much with the rest of the clan. A strong psychic, she prefers to communicate telepathically, a very unnerving experience for the dragon on the receiving end. For this reason she has chosen the psywurm Mustela as her familiar.