Shalmyllyn

-Typical Plague impulsiveness and attitude tempered by time spent in Lightning, despite her persistent denial. She's surprisingly organized and rational, and this is probably what helped keep everything running smoothly after her coup.
-Versed in entropy magic, stealing the vitality of the living to weaken her opponents. Can cast auras in an area that sap strength and disorient any unwary beings that stumble upon the spell. She's used this to do things from inducing paralysis in enemies all the way to using the drained energy to heal herself and allies. This ability also extends to the recent dead, upon which she can draw to herself any residual life force. In the Scarred Wasteland, this is abundant.
-Luxurious black and red hide has faded into a sickly coloration from her deeper studies into Plague magic; wings green and black with necrosis; skin faded to near translucency with slick, red flesh and veins visible beneath. Jagged bone spurs sprout up through her skin as extensions of her vertebrae, bleached white by constant exposure to the sun.
-Every now and then, she randomly dons an exquisite set of celadon wing silks, a gift from her eldest son. Despite how out of place it is with the rest of her attire, wise clanmates know to bite their tongue. She is a proud mother, albeit a stinky and rancid one.
-It's speculated the skull she wears once belonged to an Imperial, that of a juvenile that perished not days after hatching. It dates back to her old clan, and a taint of dark magic clings to it. She's never told the full story, but there are words about the death of an entire clutch and its parent, about her wariness around the clan's Imperials, and her unusually high level of regulation over Aytzen's experiments.
-Mask is tainted with Plague magic, but it's much better than the stench of Shade.