Parisa

Not for sale or breeding. Parisa Undead | Summoner of Corpses Plague Runestone Dragonmade An ancient stone bearing the ancestral rune of the Plaguebringer. Such a find should be kept as a prized possession. 110

Things are not always what they seem to be. That being said, many dragons don't realize that Parisa is not a living, breathing dragon, but rather an undead shadow of what she could have been, what she used to be.

Many dragons never think twice about a Plague-aligned dragon being obsessed with death. But that's a common misconception – Plague dragons actually support survival over death.

Unlike most undead dragons, Parisa actually enjoys spending time around living dragons, and although Parisa can be a bit insane at times she's always more than happy to help her clanmates learn and explore the idea of death.

Plaguebringer Bone Scrimshaw Trinkets A menacing engraving of the Plaguebringer. It is scrawled on the side of a large bonespike and reeks of decay. 105

A Deadly Ritual

It was almost completely dark in the cavern; the only dim light came from the flickering candles that hovered in the air. Parisa turned to look at her Contaminated Ambassador, who nodded. They were ready.

She flapped her wings at the candles levitating in front of her. "Let the smoke rise, let the sirens sing. They shall see it, they shall come." The small, flickering flames danced in the darkness, smoke floating up into the darkness.

The Spiral began jumping and flipping around the levitating candles, repeating the same line over and over. "Let the smoke rise, let the sirens sing. They shall see it, they shall come."

Her Familiar handed her a vial, and she circled around the candles one last time, dumping the contents of the vial on the ground as she flew around the candles. "Let the smoke rise, let the sirens sing! They shall see it, they shall come!" The foul-smelling green liquid from the vial fell on the ground, sizzling and carving a near-perfect circle into the ground like acid. Laughter began to echo around the cave as Parisa landed by her familiar's side once again.

The laughter slowly grew louder. Shadows danced on the cavern walls beyond the dim candlelight, revealing the monsters in the darkness. The walls themselves seemed to pulse and quiver in fear, but that was only to be expected of a cavern hidden in the Rotrock Rim, far from Parisa's home in the Starfall Isles.

A scent of death filled the air as the creatures came forward. Each was so thin it looked to be nothing more than a skeleton; some even had bones poking through their skin. Rotting flesh and old scales were falling off of others.

One of the creatures, a large Imperial, stepped forward slowly. He - if the creature could even be called a he - bent down, looking deep into Parisa's near-black eyes. The Imperial blinked his eyeless sockets, and a few maggots fell out, landing and squirming onto his rotting face.

A wide smile spread across Parisa's face, seemingly wider than normal due to her Ghost gene. She had done it. She looked up at the Imperial, who bowed in front of her, and together they repeated the summoning spell of the dead.

"Let the smoke rise, let the sirens sing. They shall see it, they shall come. Restore the world to which they belong, for corpses have no need of fear."