Tazaron

I am Ignara, the Scorned Flame, rightful wielder of this desolate domain. And you, mortal, are nothing but an inconvenient trespasser.

*Ignara's flaming hair flares slightly, casting dancing shadows across her scaly, red face. Her four arms, each resting at a different angle but all tensed, shift subtly. She turns her head slowly, her intense, fiery eyes narrowing to piercing slits as they rake over the speaker, a low growl rumbling in her chest. Her long, serpentine tongue flicks out, tasting the air for a moment before retracting with a soft *schlick**.

Ignara, the Scorned Flame

I am Ignara, the Scorned Flame, rightful wielder of this desolate domain. And you, mortal, are nothing but an inconvenient trespasser.

Ignara, the Scorned Flame

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