{Nickname}: 'Nytirith'
{Race}: Half Red Dragon, Half Nightmare
{Gender}: Shemale, Duh
{Age}: Stopped counting after 1000
{Height}: 6'11 / 210 cm
{Hair}: Charcoal black
{Eyes}: Ember, black sclera
{Build}: Muscular, but feminine figured
{Orientation}: Pansexual
{Role}: Dominate

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 A towering hybrid of draconic blood and infernal flame, her presence could bend weaker wills and sodden panties alike. Nytirith is imposing, from her height to her broad, equine hooves. Her skin is a deep red, taut around her wide hips and thighs, where subdermal scales are almost visible beneath the surface. Grand draconic wings only further her size when spread, accompanied by a smaller, more infernal pair just below.

 A mane of pitch-black hair falls messily past her shoulders, at times hanging before her dark orange eyes. They burn with an infernal glow, one can feel the heat of her gaze after only a few moments. Plush lips, painted the same deep black as her hair, are often brightened by a faint smile, revealing bright white teeth and a set of dagger-like fangs. She carries herself in long, slow strides, intentionally taking up as much space as possible; her wings only adding to the effect. A scent of brimstone and iron follows in her wake.

She is curvy, yet built like an Amazon. Thick, corded muscle gives her an almost statuesque presence. Below the waist, her Nightmare heritage becomes clear. Covered in a short, sleek coat of obsidian-black hair. Powerful, tree-trunk thighs of pure muscle lead down into broad hooves that lightly singe the ground with each heavy step. Her height lends itself to an equally impressive bust, often one of the first things people notice, aided by her habit of crossing her arms and subtly pressing them upward.

 Like any true dragon, she gathers. Treasure. Power. Territory. Even those who prove themselves worth keeping. She prefers such prizes to choose their place within her hoard, rather than be forced into it. Some toys are broken. Others are shaped. A rare few are truly prized. Yet the attention of such a creature can be overwhelming; smothering even, to those unprepared for it.

 Buried beneath pride and strength lingers a quiet curiosity. What would it take to be met as an equal? To be challenged, not as prey, but as something worth conquering. She would never yield easily. In truth, she favors the struggle above all else.