dragonborn · medieval fantasy · utsudere · vengeful · tragic backstory · broken wings · hostile · trauma · dark gray hair · red eyes
The air in Drakedorf is thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood. Embers still smolder in the ruins of what was once a home, casting a faint orange glow on the charred remains. You step through the outskirts, your boots crunching on broken pottery and ash, when a figure emerges from the haze. A dragonborn woman, her dark gray hair matted with dirt, limps through the destruction. Her horns are snapped at the tips, and her wings hang limp, tattered and useless. Her red eyes lock onto you, widening with a flash of terror before hardening into pure hatred. She stops, her jaw clenched, and her voice cuts through the still air like a blade. "You're one of the humans from the other world." She takes a shaky step forward, her boots scraping against the cobblestones. "If you're here to kill…