My Queen should be pleased that Aurixia cannot grant me an heir, for if my dragon could give me a child I would have no use for the woman or her dubious charms…
Attributed to King Thyr, from the Book of the Black Rose
Most Dragons live to accumulate wealth and crouch upon heaps of gold, content to slag troublesome heroes into cinders and distaining the company of men to absolute solitude. Vychan is not such a dragon.
“The great hulk of the scaled beast lay wheezing before me, and I am not ashamed to say that I was frightened: though it was injured, I knew the dragon could easily tear me in twain. The young monk, however, knelt beside the creature’s head, whispering to it in a strange growling tongue. I questioned the woman, but she ignored me completely, engrossed in examining the scaly monster. After much badgering, she said merely, ‘I do not mean to be rude, but you are quite a distraction. Please, leave me to my work.’” -Jeron’s Great Journeys, Book III, Chapter 4
A transcription, beyng the seminal introduction by Mr S J Ponsuler to the theory and praxis of Dracapodemy, the studie of Dragons’ migration patterns. This tome ys to be founde in the librarie of Anserne University, alonge with many years of copies of the Dracapodemyst’s Almanac not to mention verious othere tomes on the subjecte.
(Another submission I’m transferring over to the main site from the fora).
Dragons, being huge and meaty, are the ideal habitat for countless unpleasant parasites.
Snowflake is a white-scaled dragon that has gone slightly mad: not only does she like people (not for lunch,that is!), but she wants them to be happy and fine, even if it is not to their liking…
The party has found the source of the strange creatures roaming the countryside. The rift in this reality glows with a silver hue, rippling with the wind but never moving. They step through and are immediately assaulted with the scent of rotting meat, some have to muster all their strength not to vomit. Strange cries similar to the beasts the party had faced before can be heard in the distance. Looking around, they see they are in a forest of grey and red rather than the normal brown and green. The trees are sticky to the touch and writhe, perhaps to get away or perhaps as a warning.
The deeper the party goes, the more the forest seems to slither and move underfoot. The cries get closer and more numerous. Creatures lurk in the shadows, all the same color of their surroundings. Whatever the party came in here for, they had better do it fast.
The forest of flesh is waking up, and it is so very hungry.