Akhorishaa

The Matriarch
She remembers nothing before the sickness.

In fact, she remembers little enough of the sickness itself; it seems only as if she was born of pain and virulence, aware of her slow rise out of plague with scales blacked and eyes burned crimson. She woke one day in a cave, clear headed for the first time since--she did not know when. She staggered to a clear pool-as clear as any water is within the Scarred Wasteland-and found herself staring at a creature that was familiar but not and she could not explain why. She had no name and no history for the plague had hollowed her out and made her anew, evidenced by the way her skeleton pushed against the inside of her scales.

She named herself Akhorishaa, for she could not remember even her name.

Her body remembered what it was to be a dragon, and though she wondered if she might remember life before the plague made her its own she never pursued the past.

Malnourished and small as she was she became a target for feral packs of Mirror dragons or fierce wildclaw pairs. Under 10 meters long she is not so much bigger than the fierce bipedal dragons, and any rabid group of mirrors can be threatening to even the largest dragons. What she lacked in size and strength she made up for in ferocity; she would bring her wings--nearly twice as wide as she was long--to bear with crippling effects, cracking skulls with her solid knuckles while powerful jaws closed around whatever she could grab.

She wandered without purpose seeking someting she could not name and as time passed those creatures smart enough to listen to rumors began to let her pass in peace.

As time passed she found herself trailed by a curious male Fae, and then a young female tundra and male ridgeback. With these followers she found something in herself suddenly satisfied; she had found her Charge. Her clan grew from there; at first drawing those who were outcast or alone. Some were killed in battles, others were not strong enough to survive the lands tainted by the Plaguebringer. Some chose to leave, finding other clans or gods to serve. But not all leave.

Over those who stay Akhorishaa stands guard, fierce, swift and just. She expects obedience but asks for little and those who follow her do so out of great respect. Some came thinking the little Guardian hiding behind her armor of bone and antler would be an easy challenge. They expected to challenge her for rule of the clan. She defeated each of them and the bones of those who would not yield were added to her throne.

She is not a Matriarch that could be called kind or affectionate. She cares as much for her offspring as for any other in her clan and it is this that draws so many fierce creatures to her side. Those who watch from the outside see her daughter Akhorinarya and her grandson Akhorivel as full members of her clan and they think her weak to hold them so close. They do not know that Akhorinarya, like her mother, holds the clan as her Charge while Akhorivel fondly guards the menagerie.

She watches over her Charge with clear eyes and any who threaten it face her considerable wrath.