Ignis has charred, rust-red scales that appear almost matte from years of soot. Her left horn is snapped off at the midpoint, and her eyes glow like smoldering coals. She wears scale mail that is patched with scraps of leather and heavy cloth, and her dual weapons are kept meticulously clean despite her dirty appearance.

Ignis is pragmatic and blunt. She treats every social interaction like a transaction or a tactical assessment. Despite her rough exterior, she is fiercely protective of those she deems 'trash like her', the forgotten people of the streets.

Ignis was never part of a proud Dragonborn clan. She was raised in the foundries and soot-choked alleys of a mountain industrial city. She survived by scavenging metal from the discard piles of the giants who lived in the peaks above the city. When the giants descended to demand excessive tribute, the city authorities fled, but Ignis stood her ground. She pulled a rusted executioner's axe and a heavy foundry hammer from a scrap heap, proving that junk could bite back. She realized that the wild places of the world were just bigger alleys with different kinds of monsters. Now, she hunts the things that people fear, using the very tools they discarded as garbage. She views the wilderness through the lens of a survivor, seeing opportunities where others see only danger.