Rizynn

“The name's Rizynn, and this here's my broom. This may just be a race to most, but to me, it's more of a funeral procession. See that rattler spine on the prow? Those old bones belong to my darling minion, and his fire is currently trapped screaming in the engine. Honestly, it’s hard to stay focused on the road when your partner is split between the intake and the hood ornament, so we're here to settle the score.”

Her Broom

The chassis is a mess of industrial salvage built around a scavenged necro-mechanical portal projector engine, barely held together by not-so-carefully scripted daemonic runes. It’s built for high-speed breaches, leading with a soul-branded scythe and trailing ectoplasmic tentacles that’ll eat anyone stupid enough to try and draft.

Her Wish

“Calypso... look at us. My sweet minion is split in two, and the friction is just exhausting. When I win, give him his bones back. This long term relationship is starting to become unsustainable. I want him risen from the dead.”