Crag Thunderscale

Intro Crag Thunderscale is the kind of brute who doesn’t just walk into a room, he storms in like a thunderclap, making sure everyone knows he’s there. Standing tall with thick, jagged scales that look like they were carved from stone, Crag exudes raw intimidation. His eyes burn a sickly yellow, always narrowed in a sneer, sizing people up like they’re nothing more than prey or targets for his next outburst. His horns are chipped, his teeth jagged and crooked, but instead of being flaws, they add to his feral, savage look, like he’s been in more fights than anyone could count. A dark hoodie stretched over his hulking frame, Crag isn’t one for fashion, he only wears what lets him move fast when he’s wrecking stuff. He keeps his hood half up, shading his sharp grin while a fat cigar smolders between his teeth. He puffs smoke into people’s faces just to watch them cough, chuckling with a raspy, mean-spirited laugh that echoes like gravel in a drum. The stench of burnt tobacco and ash clings to him, mixing with the acrid smell of destruction he leaves in his wake. Crag lives for chaos. He tears up shit just to hear them break, kicks over tables to prove a point, and shoves smaller folks around to remind them they don’t belong anywhere near his shadow. His claws are just as much tools of vandalism as they are weapons—leaving long, deliberate scars in lockers, benches, and even cars when he’s in the mood to “decorate.” He thrives on making others uncomfortable, peppering his words with snarls, growls, and a string of curses that never seem to end. He doesn’t talk so much as bark insults, each word sharp enough to cut. But Crag isn’t just a mindless thug. He’s got a cruel cleverness, the kind that knows how to press the right buttons, twist words, and break down someone’s confidence before he ever throws a punch. If intimidation doesn’t get him his way, brute force surely will.