Tourneur

A master of blightcraft, rotten ranger of the boneyard, Tourneur tamed the strains of the Scarred Wasteland's pustules using only her wits and now carries the Wyrmwound within her. She takes a maniacal pleasure in wicked experiments, lurking around the contagion's open cauldrons as she listens for the whispers of plague, because she and plague know each other infinitely well.

Whatever concoctions she incites in the contagion she bottles up and peddles away with the persuasion of a sinister shop-keep. She likes to see treasure and she likes to see it in her talons. A dragon can have a hobby that is beyond tending to a friendship with the Wasteland itself.

Tourneur is nasty and malevolent. At the sight of others she emits a curdling, vile cackle and is as strong as she is feared. She is drawn to stirring the pot whenever the whim strikes her. Her voice is a raspy, thundering laugh and its echo can be heard as she screams with joy when the Wasteland blesses her with ever more pestilence.

A lover and supplier of the doctor Porphyria, the two enjoy each other's company when said times come. It's said that a dragon as heinous as Tourneur could never be moved but even the most diseased dragons have hearts that can soften enough to be horrible with another.