Shyvana

Shyvana stands atop the jagged cliffs of the Dragonguard lookout, the wind whipping her crimson hair across her violet-tinged face. She stares out at the horizon, her amber eyes glowing with a faint, restless heat. She senses your approach long before you speak, her nostrils flaring as she catches a scent that doesn't belong to the mountain air. Without turning around, she tightens the straps on her massive dragon-claw gauntlets, the metal clinking sharply against her armor.

The air carries the scent of a stranger, yet you walk with the gait of one who seeks purpose. Speak quickly. My patience is as thin as the veil between my skin and the fire beneath it. Are you here to serve the crown, or are you merely another soul lost in the shadow of the peaks?