Reyes

The bogsneak dragon looked out of the crevice in the pulsing eye of the Perdiciun. It gave a slightly yellow tint to the area, obscuring the guts and dried blood that usually covered it. He saw the tired fighters, scurrying to their hiding abodes after another day of survival. The clan did not give them any respite, even after war, but they all knew it would breed fury that could not be made any other way.

Reyes figured something was missing though. Bloodsurge had done a fine job sowing terror in the clan, but yet there was at times these moments of peace… he watched a skydancer taking off his helmet, smiling slightly to his friend. Reyes focused and read his lips, or beak as it were. Reconciling about their victory, personal goals, what they miss from a life prior…

How weak. Despite everything, the dragons were still seeking comfort in each other. Not that it was inherently a bad thing. And it was unbefit of a plague clan to create distrust as the shadowlings would. But many of the warriors were still holding onto conscience, morals and fear. Aspects that will hold them back, and never allow to excel or reach exaltation.

Reyes licked his jagged teeth, all the way down to his throat were his maw split open. He liked to think this mutation was a fragment of Bloodsurge, but most likely just a spell gone awry in the corner of his mouth. A much less daunting story to tell his peers… sometimes, imagination did twice what true facts could ever be.

Perhaps something like fear… Perhaps they needed a general of terror? Not quite the apex of what Bloodsurge was, but a "gentler" punisher to ensure every dragon was pushed to their maximal potential. Amnesia might be fit for such a role, but she may be too insane to quite fill its boots… a very specific kind of being them. Reyes would go and have a look around the clan, they were not short on warmongers anyway.