She came from the west, somewhere beyond the wild steppe. She wore her hair open, was covered in leather scraps and not much more. Long, slender legs and a behind to stare at, she was a sight to behold when she rode by. Not much was known about her but that she was obviously unfamiliar with the customs of the realm. She did not have a master, nor did she seem to be some kind of priestess. Yet strangely every free man of the realm that tried to take her, as was his right at the time, was repelled by a hail of, tiny yet deadly, lead bolts coming from the magic apparatus she carried, most of the want to be owners of this proud specimen of a woman riding through the lands only found death at her hands, those that survived the initial onslaught were captured, taken away to the lair she had taken hold of after slaying it’s resident dragon.
The eggs the dragon’s burning body left behind were kept by her, she cared for them, even kept them warm at her campfire during the cold nights. When these dragons hatched she trained them, fed them, became their mother. She would cut away their wings right after hatching as she was afraid of flying things like many westerners. Some were trained as mounts or guard dragons, some she taught tricks to amuse herself.
Her unfortunate captives were usually fed to the dragon hatchlings who required the lot of them, but those who looked strong enough to still stand were either taken to her chambers deep inside the lair never to be seen again or given to her horde of little dragons, as sport, and training. One of her dragons showed more talent than his brethren, more cunning and skill in playing catch with his prey, so she decided to reward him and gave him a hat, and together they set out for many adventures. And so the saga of Ultrababe began.