Mire

Mate – Murkwood
Breed – Spiral
Gender – Female
Element – Earth
Talent – Exhales poisonous, acidic gasses.
Faction - Remnants
Role - Constant threat lurking in the depths of the refuse pond.
Dark Secret – Isn’t done growing, not by a long shot – Mire’s size increases proportionally to the refuse that it consumes, and does not appear to have an upper limit.
Traits - Speech is muddy and slurred, surprisingly fast reaction times, cunning predator, well aware of the clan's activities, animalistic behavior, seemingly insatiable hunger, smells revolting.
Appearance - It is possible to distinguish the matter that comprises its body - individual skeletons, broken glassware, and lengths of shredded canvas or splintered wood often break the surface of its grimy hide as it twists and writhes.
Sins – Greed, manslaughter, crimes against nature (unnatural creation).
Likes – Eating (particularly overeating), companionship, the taste (and screams) of living dragons, moonless nights.
Dislikes – Pure/clear water, the undead (inferior abominations), fearful creatures, cold weather (becomes sluggish).
Theme Music - Goin' Down (Three Days Grace)

This one is Murkwood's fault.

How so? The false shaman made the foolhardy decision to repurpose a small pond, previously used for refuse disposal. The new purpose? A vat in which he could distill the foulest of his rotted fluids. What the Bogsneak failed to consider was how these purposes would conflict.

Over the centuries, unfathomable quantities of waste had accumulated in the depths of the pond. Quake disposed of Wither's rotted, cast-off scales. Sulphur guiltily hid the remains of failed alchemical experiments. Alexandra sank the corpses of those that Donovan had murdered. And nearly every magic user in the clan used it to dispose of unused spell reagents.

When Murkwood introduced his foul brew to the pond, something awakened. Something that called itself Mire. A sentient amalgamation of refuse and rot, it took a long, sinuous form similar to that of a Spiral dragon.

Mire fed undiscovered for decades in the depths of the pond, consuming every foul scrap that had been discarded therein. All the while, it drew strength from the false shaman's brew. It grew massively in size, forced to curl in on itself merely to fit within the pond.

It gleaned scraps of draconic language and culture from those dragons who came near to the surface of the pond, steadily transitioning from a merely sentient creature into a truly intelligent one.

Then, the refuse ran out. Mire had consumed every last foul tidbit, and had begun to grow hungry.

The creature made itself known to Murkwood - by attempting to devour him whole. The Bogsneak managed to escape relatively intact, though his wounds would permanently scar. Realizing that the creature could be communicated and reasoned with, he made a coward's agreement.

He would feed Mire, providing it with massive amounts of refuse and dead flesh. He would also mate with Mire, sating its other appetites. In exchange, the creature must continue to keep its existence secret from the rest of the clan.

Perhaps not the fairest of terms, but the Bogsneak was rather desperate. He was only a probationary member of the Clan of Second Chances, actively failing to win respect or even to prove his usefulness. If Mire were to be discovered, his probation would undoubtedly end - in his execution.

Displaying his typical laziness, Murkwood has decided that the most efficient way to keep Mire satisfied is to reopen the pool as a waste disposal site. The Unrepentant dragons were wasteful, he reasoned, and would ensure that it remained well fed.

What he didn't account for was Mire's developing taste for draconic flesh, and Mire's determination to secure said flesh. Dragons who frequent the refuse pond have begun to go missing, one by one. Each has been devoured whole by the creature that dwells beneath the surface.

Thus far, no dragons of repute have met their untimely end - as such, these disappearances have gone largely unnoticed and completely unquestioned.

Sooner or later, it's inevitable Mire will take a significant victim. Sooner or later, Murkwood's dark secret will be discovered. Sooner or later, both creation and creator will meet their end at the claws of the vengeful Unrepentant dragons.

Or so the false shaman believes.

Another dragon is already well aware of his secret - innately drawn to rot and ruin, Wither discovered the creature decades ago, and has made a habit of visiting it. She sees Mire as a being similar to herself - a foul, twisted creature who will never be regarded with anything less than revulsion.

The Bogsneak may believe that his agreement is all that keeps the creature complacent, but this is far from the truth. It is the Nocturne's company - be it in rare spates conversation or in long periods of shared contemplation - that satisfies Mire's desire for draconic contact.

Through their unknowingly combined efforts, Murkwood and Wither have successfully kept Mire a secret from the Clan of Second Chances - not even the spymaster Dusk is aware of the creature's existence.

With any luck, they'll be able to keep it that way. If their luck should fail... well, this one is Murkwood's fault.