Duskfang

((Clan Role: Eater of Flesh))

This dude is a literal zombie. Duskfang is a ghoulish, bony-looking scavenger with a constant hunger for meat. He's not so much a demon as he is a creature of gluttony. He'll eat any sort of meat, even if it's wrapped up in cloth, festering with disease, or covered in hot sauce. In a way, he is useful for disposing of the leftovers the other helldragons leave behind, as he also tends to crunch up bones, chew on fur and consume them too. If Duskfang has a spirit animal, it is definitely a vulture.

Aside from his ravenous appetite and his interest in food, Duskfang is a surprisingly sweet personality, thinking much of others before himself. He is not the best, most comfortable sort of dragon you want hanging around you, but he seems to mean well. I mean, gifting someone three ribs and a giant eyeball might be sweet to some dragons I guess...

Duskfang has a loyal guard-dog, a hellhound which follows him about and watches his back as he eats. Her name is Ravioli and she is a good girl, so don't be afraid of her glowing eyes and her skull-for-a-face. She eats coal and soul-essence, which luckily Duskfang doesn't find appetizing.

His name, Duskfang, came from the demons of the domain who associate him with sinking his teeth into things like the sun sinks into the horizon at dusk. Despite being a thin and hungering guy, he takes his time eating, savoring his meal if it is particularly flavorful, and insisting that eating too fast will give you hiccups and give you indigestion. Still, if he is starved for a meal, he simply won't be able to help himself, and feasts greedily and quickly to satiate his hunger. It's not unusual to encounter Duskfang drooling over bones and staring at tails as if they were worms. He also speaks in the third person. Most think it's because he's a zombified monster stuck in a hungry body, with little nutrients going to his brain. But really, Duskfang enjoys talking in the third person, because he feels he is beloved as such, and he is not used to appearing intimidating, as in his previous life, he was a humble little baker.

But he no longer cares for the taste of fruit and bread, or honey and cheese. All he wants is a small sliver of meat...before he asks if there is any more...and before he asks if he can take a little nibble of your wing or leg...and before he decides that maybe you have some delicious tasting flesh.