Ganache

Ganache; a harsh gasp followed by the sickening soft hiss and crackle of rippling steam. Ganache, for the most part, is full of hot air. From head to toe, he is a roiling, fuming, bubbling pot of rich, hot anger. He doesn't care who you are or who you think you are- every dragon is the same to him.

Adopted and raised by the clan, Ganache is a fire dragon through and through. Caustria took him on as his own, and through the eyes of a Guardian, taught the young impling what it means to have a charge- a ward- a reason for being. His mother, Aerouant, instilled in him the desire to be free- weightless- twisted and knotted with the excitement of existing. And his birthright imperialism gave to him a chaotic hunger for power, but not at the expense of other dragons.

His charge? The bloody deed of choosing and culling young dragons for exaltation to the Flamecaller. It's a thankless job, but someone has to do it. The fire seems to rage beneath him, and Ganache always works tirelessly at his job, frothing with grim enthusiasm.