For untold decades the old dragon egg rested quietly and comfortably at the bottom of the fissure; a red volcanic tear to elemental fire in the surface of the Northern Realm. Over time the fissure slowly filled with lava and ignited new growth within the egg. When the hatchling reached the level of growth necessary to break free from its shell, it was forced to draw nourishment from the lava minerals and liquid ore hidden in the red fiery soup.
Having no parents to rear her Prane grew up without social interactions with those of her kind, instead she was ‘raised’ by her volcano environment and through the centuries, was courted by many powerful efreeti sultans, salamander lords, and some tell even Kossuth himself one fiery year—The Year of the Long Summer.
Despite her hue, Prane was largely given a wide berth by frontiersmen and merchants alike when traveling near Neverwinter Woods and the Hotenow Volcano; though Prane is a recluse, it is her unpredictability, callous ego, and her elemental courtiers that give many adventurers pause. “Prane is a pain,” is a common saying among Neverwinter merchants and along the sword coast.