Shole

[*Artifice]

Basic Information

Name: Shole
Gender: Female
Race: Red Dragon
Languages: Draconic, Ignan, Infernal and Trade
Accent: Hive cant

Physical Information

Standing Height: 12'4"
Weight: 22,100lbs
Body build: Muscular
Scale type: Red, black striped
Eyes: Fiery

Mental Information

Alignment: Chaotic evil
Philosophy: "To bring things back to the circle, you gotta burn down those on-top."
Deity/Beliefs: Sign of One, Namer

Personality:

• Guarded: Shole will do anything to avoid seeming weak or vulnerable.
• Idealistic: Shole wishes to enlist people in a pet cause.
• Spiteful: Shole nurses a grudge against a Faction and will say anything that undermines them.

Additional Information

Gear: tbd
Jewellery: Shole wears silver chains around her neck and rings around her claws.
Habits/hobbies: Shole practices speech writing, follows the game closely in her local scene and has started making herself seen in the Hive.
General Health: Robust
Favorite Drink: Molten gold

Weaknesses:

• Bigmouth: Shole is a loud-mouthed dragon.
• Fierce: Shole is marked by extreme intensity of emotions and convictions, making her inclined to react violently.
• Overambitious: Shole has a strong, excessive desire for success and achievement.

[*Artifice]

Some Dark

Some cutters from the Hive might know a slaad-story - a young adult red dragon has emerged. Not unheard of by itself, but they say this one's from the Cage.

Some of the locals know about it. It's been there for as long as they remember, on the outskirts of the Slags, hanging onto Undersigil, feeding on discarded masonry and metals (as dragons do) as well as scraps of meat that some berks offered it, all to keep it content as a child. After all, even a baby red is as big as a man, with wicked talons. Would you want a hungry dragon in your block?

But it isn't just a squawking pup anymore. It's seen the squalor that the people in the Hive are made to live in. Like them, it's spent all its life looking up to the grand palaces of the Golden Lords and their hordes of infinite wealth.

It knows threats. Every body and every dreamer from the Anthill does - they live gang warfare and Hardhead brutality. People plied it as a wyrmling with stories of dragon hunters, angry people who would come for its skin if it miss-behaved. They wanted to keep it docile and out of the way - but over time they've galvanised a sense of kinship in the dragon, kinship and anger.

So chant is one cycle this dragon steps out of the Hive, worms its way through the streets and strides up to the centre of governance in Sigil, the Hall of Speakers itself.

It tells them it will be a representative of the one union that unites Sigil - it tells them it's going to change the way things work around here. Even got itself a badge, somehow, someway. Cue the angry political revolutionary, barking speeches and riling crowds, trying to build something all around the Slags and the Hive. It's only gotten small crowds so far, people as broken down and as disenfranchised with how things are as it is. Yet because of what it is, it's always carrying that unsaid threat around with it - threats against others, threats against itself. Few trust it.

Yet, never-the-less, they say there's a fiery tempered new face in the game, demanding the old system be broken down, replaced by something fairer, that those who have benefited on the backs and the blood of those past to pay their dues.

But that's all a bit far fetched, innit blood?