Carrion

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Carrion The Poisoned

Singed Webbing Organics This miracle of nature can actually be woven to produce flame-resistant clothing for use by dragons that may not have started their lives in the Ashfall Waste. 41 Pulsating Green Embers Organics These markers are a sure way to track fiendcats, even over long distances. They last for weeks, even without fuel. 41 Contaminated Featherback Pelt Organics A pelt this far gone is best burned or buried far away from clan territory. 350

Role: Carrion stands guard over the crumbled throne of Roght, awaiting the day the kingdom's heir will return. To protect herself she brews poisons potent enough to fell even a plague dragon, using venom harvested from the deadly Ashspine widows that inhabit the ruins. Her thick hide and fur protects her from their bite, making her one of the few dragons on Sornieth able to lead a long-term career rearing such dangerous spiders. Personality and Relationships: Carrion can be described as a fearsome, but cautious dragon. Though she has a fierce temper, it rarely manifests as physical rage due to her calculated approach to any task. Rather her anger will simmer beneath her calm demeanour, branding grudges and bitter resentment into her soul over even minor offences. She cares little for friends, choosing to live alone; though she has sworn fealty to the heir of Roght, it is questionable whether it is truly the dragon she cares for, or the ideal.

History Carrion, who Earthshaker named Tyll, was carved from the strong soils of Reedcliff Ascent, deep where the towering cliffs meet the sea. However as the Earthshaker attempted to awaken her and her kin, the cliff they were born in collapsed; most were lost to the sea, but Carrion fell into the Scarred Wasteland, where she was too injured to make the steep climb back to her promised home. Only hours old and already, in her mind, betrayed, Carrion blamed the Earthshaker for the misfortune that had befallen her and turned her back on the path he had intended for her to instead make her own way in the Wandering Contagion.

As Carrion wandered in search of a new purpose, she found work at first fighting other dragons or beastclans for petty coin. Slowly she found her way into professional circuits, and became a gladiator. It was during these days that she learned to create poisons, but her 'liberal' use of them on her opponents resulted in her being driven from the blood-sport and back into the wastes.

From there, Carrion travelled to the Abiding Boneyard, where she found the abandonned ruins of the long-dead Kingdom of Roght. So blighted were the lands that not even the plague-born would live there. She, however, took a fascination with the fallen dynasty and began to research not just its history but also the dragons living there. Over time, this interest turned into a fixation, then into fierce loyalty. Now, she guards the ruins from any other dragon who may try to destroy her beloved home's remnants while she waits for the heir to return.



With little much to do in a rotting kingdom, where her only companions are spiders, Carrion has had to invent her own ways to keep busy. She has created a tight schedule to force her mind to stay sharp as her wait drags longer, and always starts the day early with her work collecting venom. Once the harvest is finished for the morning, Carrion will either practice her fighting against the crumbling walls of the kingdom or seek out roaming Beastclans to fight.

After training, Carrion likes to study the Kingdom of Roght's history through the few surviving texts in its library. She has read all of them several times over, but still remains fascinated by the Kingdom's tumultuous past and often finds herself imagining her own tales to fill in the gaps between the writings.

At the end of the day, Carrion will simply sit and watch the sun set over the distant outline of the Plateaus. If there were anyone there to ask her why, she would tell them that she often wonders if she would have been happy there, when the cold begins to creep through her fur in those final moments of dwindling light.

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SUMMARY OF SKILLSET

SUMMARY CONT.

ELEMENT/CHARACTER SPECIFIC TRAIT E.G. VIROLOGY, STONEFORM, SCRYING

She awoke trapped by stone; a warm, comfortable shell that felt much like a blanket that had been wrapped too tight. The ticklish lag of her gut as she was dragged towards its peak by steady claws was only the most mild sensation against the rushing power that swirled around her, chipping steadily into her cast to sprinkle pieces of foreign memory over her.

She thrashed; giddy as a child kicking out of their bedtime tuck, awoken by a story and the imaginings of distant lands and thrashing seas she could test her stony wings against. She pushed her wings out to touch the sky she was promised and flexed her claws into fantasy grass whose roots she had been carved amongst. She blinked against the light she was yet to see and a growl grew in her chest, ready for her first, most mighty roar.

A sudden lurch stalled her excitement. A shuddering thump as rock gave way, then a consuming weightlessness as she tipped to the side and fell even as the first crack broke through her plummeting prison.

Another crack at the first hard hit into the wind-swept cliff she had been born in. A sudden, blinding wound in the rock around her upon the next. More and more gun-shot ricochets as she tumbled down the endless cliff that He had sworn would be her home. And all she could feel now was fear.

The final hit came after an eternity, and all too sudden. Her clay likeness shattered against the rotting ground, fragments skittering into littering shards of bone like fearful cockroaches. She lay still as she had been carved, wreathed by a jagged halo of broken dirt and ruptured pustules.

“Is she alive?” A voice, for which understanding had barely been blessed upon her before she fell, asked.

“Doubtful.” Answered another, who spoke in the thick, whistling accent affected by coatls. “She’s nothing more than carrion.”

Though she understood little, the words stung deep. Deeper than the fear, and when the needle pulled back, a roiling anger surged after. The shadow of her first growl rang through her chest, pained but strong as she struggled to her paws. She looked upon her staring audience, nothing more than half-gone vagabonds, raised her bloodied snout to the sky, and roared not in the name He had granted her, but as Carrion.