Everything that is known about the Firstborn Zsiera has come from the accounts of those rare few who have witnessed her power and survived to tell the tale. She does not speak or share wisdom with the mortals who pledge themselves to her, nor does she seek to have temples raised in her glory or bards singing of her exploits. Instead, what she desires is an ample supply of food, an isolated place to rest, and for mortals to understand that they are allowed to exist near her solely in case she starts to feel peckish later.

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The White has not always lived this way, however. While the ageless and immortal experience emotion in ways that mere mortals can never even begin to understand, grief can warp even the strongest of wills. Where once Zsiera roamed her territory, delighting in the company of her neighbouring Firstborn and accepting the reverence of the lucky few mortals who witnessed her might, all that changed when Daedalon, The Silver, was slain by Pandora. The death of the Firstborn she loved has eaten at her like a ceaseless ache for centuries, driving her into fits of rage that devastate the area around her and leave trails of corpses in her wake.