A grab-bag of draconic goodness, ready to plug into a variety of settings from Steam-Punk to Modern to Fantasy.
Food of the gods.
Treasured texts of the infamous Doctor Alcomb.
I'm different. I have a different constitution, I have a different brain, I have a different heart... Dying's for fools, dying's for amateurs.
Old cultures since the dawn of written time have seen pictures in the night sky and asked questions of them. Who they were, where did they come from, and why do they return? The earliest efforts to distinguish these nightly visitors and give them names and meanings dates back to before the Contention of Aborior. Those first observations were different than what is seen today but most still hold true to their original origins.
If you had writing as bad as Corran's, you'd look for a way around it too.
Even the most despicable and evil Tyrant will be convinced they pale in comparison to this monstrosity.
A type of silk woven from tree saps
From the depths of the void the masses crash through the Gates of Forlorn and wreak havok on the world of men. The flood is an unending tide of chaos and destruction that is everlasting. Their thirst for blood is surpassed only by the rising of the son, on it stands eternal. On the comming of the Flood, the children of the lost god will reign supreme on a charred world where the people are enslaved, and the rulers are Demonblood.
- Excerpt from the tome of Caedmon.
I have heard it all my life,
A voice calling a name I recognized as my own.
Powlgraff, The Fowl City.
"This sword! It's helping me connect all the dots!"
"Yeah, even the dots that don't exist!"