Brisk

Brisk never really knew her parents growing up, and neither did her clanmates. She searched for any evidence she could of them. Those who knew her father told her she was the spitting image of him. The same went for her mother. She was told that they both later had gone by the name "Opal." Both of them. And from what she could gather, they both looked nearly exactly the same. She hunted for any siblings she could, and lo and behold -- they all looked the same as her too. She couldn't stop finding them - there had to be at least 30, (and possibly more,) all varying ages, in her splitting likeness. They too confirmed they never knew their parents, and those in their clan who did only knew of the entity by their shared name - Opal. Something in Brisk's gut dropped. Something was wrong. Two dragons, exactly the same in appearance and name, having an endless gargantuan brood over the course of many years, and not a single one knows of them. Brisk wasn't sure if her parents had been enslaved in some sort of fertility cult, or if they had simply abandoned her. And she wasn't sure if she wanted to know, or even cared. Either way, over 50 hatchlings had had their childhoods stolen from them, and it would not happen again.

Whatever her parents were, Brisk had a bone to pick with them. She traveled for any word of where they had been last, and eventually went back to the homeland of both her and her parents. There, she had thought she had finally found them, only to find out that they, (and some of her baby siblings, only youths at the time,) had been offered up to the Icewarden. Either that, or perhaps they were just dead. Her journey had come to a dead end. It was too late. But it was not too late for them. For all of them. For her siblings that had been given into war before they had even learned to play or to walk, and for any child that suffered from unjust hands. For whoever Opal was -- or whatever force had turned Opal into what they were -- she would ensure it would not be a mistake made ever again.

Rook found Brisk stealing Kaisuda's old troupe outfits, and became curious. She found her trying to scare clans, spending most of the time evading defenses, or clumsily dropping toys or food onto lairs from above. It was pretty embarassing, actually -- for Rook. Brisk's secret had been found out, and she had no choice but to let Rook blackmail her. And her request was simple, really. Rook would be allowed to join her in her fun, and in return, she would turn the other head when Kaisuda's old junk went missing -- and maybe help add to the pile. And so they formed a partnership of sorts; Brisk would scout out clans deserving of her wrath or mercy, she would take on the role of vengeful spirit, and Rook would help doll out the spooky ire in the background as her enforcer. Neglectful clans would find their food turned into rocks, and their clothes and keepsakes hidden in infuriating locations. Hatchlings would wake up with treats or dolls nestled beneath their heads. And for the really negligent, they would get treated to everything in their territory replaced with rocks, squeeky toys, or less ... elegant droppings -- as well as their hatchlings missing (transported to hopefully a better and safer home far away, with a basic explanation of what had happened.) As for the clans Brisk had no trouble with, they would often find their belongings misplaced too (but safe, perched on a high tree or the like,) - simply because Rook found the confusion on their faces funny. Every punishment is left with a single bloody feather, a sign of the "spirit's" passing. (The blood, of course, isn't real.) There is also a cloth scrap engraved with whatever sin Brisk thinks they have commited, ("Violence," "Starved," etc,) just in case they didn't get the memo the first time Brisk did her scary spoopy "ooOoooo, you have been judged and found wanting" spirit act. Every gift however is left with nothing but the smile on the hatchlings' faces. Because of this, very few dragons associate the two phenomenons with the same source.

The more superstitious clans see "it" as a demon. Some have began casting spell barriers on their doors, or offering tributes in hopes the angry spirit will leave them alone. Others tell their hatchlings that when there is a chill in the air, that is when the demon comes to take unsupervised hatchlings away. The more skeptical of dragons keep on guard, waiting to capture and even kill the masked interloper. Unbeknownst to them, Rook is always hidden in the background protecting her, but even then it is a very dangerous and unpredictable job. Brisk is very much mortal, and even a spirit can be hit with a little luck and quick aim. But the anger and righteous fury in her is far too strong a motivator, and she sees the work she does -- morally grey or not -- as too important to quit over risks.