Waste Dragon

Choking ash refused to settle - perpetually buoyed by vents and super-heated currents born of fissures, variable in their size, cracking the plain: themselves born of a vicious undercurrent of flame and rock. Lava flows that had followed a belching, petrifying cloud - making casts of men and freezing them forever into their final horrid moments - were cooling: black shells over red rivers, daring a fool's foot to mistake them for a road.

The group of men tread carefully, the soles of their sandals smouldering despite careful avoidance of looser clay - where the ashen soil had not yet hardened into concrete. Six of them came - some with their ceremonial spears, one with the grand headdress and and the barley offering - but all holding their courage. None knew if the Plains Lord still slept - or where it might have been: if it had been found in the periphery or in the path when the cataclysm had come.

They approached the old totem cautiously - a silhouette, broken and leaning: black against the gray. Then, beneath it, a heap - a berm - sparks and embers: a campfire left to dwindle...

...and then motion. The Plains Lord! It yet survived! And yet... 

The doppelganger leaps up. Strings of smoke follow its limbs, cracking and creaking, torturous and irregular - but swift! Listing to one side it bites; falling over itself, it swipes: a deafening sound and a thousand burrs bite into the skin.

The beast beats its wings - air filters through a dozen holes and cracks in the connecting membranes - two beats, three, a fourth on the right to match the time with a slower left... and away.

Six dead men added their blood to the soil - life essence coagulated into the slowly settling ash: settled, dried - dark brown cement to add to the black caps over glowing red riverbeds.

Lords of the Ash Waste

Waste Dragons are the tormented cousins of the Grass Dragon: their scales having gone hard, coated in salt, and their tendrils having largely gone heavy and limp - some emitting smoke from ever-smoldering veins.

Encountering Waste Dragons

Waste Dragon
Armor Class:	2	No. Appearing:	1-4
Hit Dice:	8	Save As:	Fighter 10
Move:	Std: 90' (30') Fly: 210' (70')	Morale:	10
Attacks:	Claw / Claw Bite	Treasure Type:	~ (H)
Damage:	1-6 / 1-6 3-24	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Rare	Chance In Lair:	15%

• Chance of Talking: 35%
• Chance of Being Asleep: 25%
• Spells by Level (1/2/3): 1/1/0
  

The Waste Dragon is not territorial - and only partially intelligent - driven mad by the changes in their biology resulting from the corruption of their sustaining energies. They speak little or none - apart from the eldritch incantations, memorized by rote rather than intention, associated with the magic at their control. They roam the badlands and burned places in a mix of loping walk and awkward flight, engaging whatever they see according to the whim of the moment.

Waste Dragons are difficult to see coming in fogs, mists, or dust storms. Thus, a Waste Dragon which is encountered outside its lair has a 3-in-6 chance to surprise. If the dragon is asleep, there is a 5-in-6 chance that the party will not notice it at all: thinking it a mirage.

Breath Weapon

• Template: Cloud
• Range: 40' x 40' x 20'
  

The breath weapon of a Waste Dragon is a cloud, 40’ by 40’ by 20’. A vortex erupts, filled with brick-a-brack of dead foliage: kernels, grains, rocks, and stems. Any character affected by the breath attack must, after 1d6 hours, Save vs Poison. On failure, they feel sickened, taking a -1 penalty on all rolls for 1d4 days. At the end of this period, they must save again – and so on, indefinitely, until they save successfully: at which point the effect ends. 

Remove Curse, Remove Disease, or other similar magic can end the effect prematurely. 

Lairs and Treasure

Waste Dragons build their lairs in craters, under lahars - hardened to concrete, or in crevices and breaks in the earth. They have an affinity for the soil: to which they feel a primal connection - unconsciously seeking rebirth, renourishment for the living plains surrendered to desolation.

Waste Dragons will hide or destroy treasure that they find in these underground places - concealing it or defacing it - in order to create separation of the artificial (cut gemstones, jewelry, specie, and the like) and the natural: again, a failing hope hidden beneath layers of impetus to cause equilibrium to return. The impact of potential vandalism to the value of treasure, or to its accessibility, is at the behest of the referee, complimenting the environment in which the hoard is encountered.

Resistances and Immunities

Waste Dragons are immune to Poison and resist Cold and Ice - taking half effect therefrom.

Waste Dragons cannot be subdued - their crazed demeanor prevents it: the cognition required for cowardice eluding their tortured psyche.

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run Waste Dragons in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Waste Dragons and for most of the sentient races: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Deeper Lore

Waste Dragons are the grizzled survivors of a total collapse of the grassland ecosystem, but sustained - reborn, almost, a dragon's equivalence to undeath - by the echos of that destruction. Grass Dragons have a kindredship to them - they recognize this corruption - and they have been known to react strongly: trying to excise the ash - and in failing, to execute for the sake of mercy. Such events as volcanic eruptions, meteor strikes, or dramatic change in the local climate resulting in the rapid desertification of a formerly lush space can cause a Grass Dragon to become one of the Waste - a fate that is more likely to befall one sleeping through the event than one waking: as flight is preferable over remaining.

As such, there are no young Waste Dragons - only old, grizzled veterans: strong enough to survive the change. Eggs subjected to the same conditions will often turn to granite spheres: prized by warlocks for their esoteric properties. Likewise - Waste Dragons have a limited life span: as the echos that sustain them, over time, will grow weaker and weaker. Sometimes - if the ground can be healed - the dragon might heal with it, its scales growing more supple, its tendrils sprouting and growing again: but the mind of the dragon can take much longer to recover than its body - and some have been said to go catatonic for years: some never again waking up, but not succumbing to death: instead becoming one with the earth and the healing steppe. 

 

Public domain art retrieved from the National Gallery of Art and OldBookIllustrations.com and adapted for thematic use. Attribution in alt text.

Enter the Scorpion

They say, deep in the wastes - among the rocks and sand, where no man may dwell - in the places where water is in scarcity and the sun, abundance: there can be found the hardiest of the half-races. In those places, the Girtablilu have made their lairs.

They say - far from the places where men dwell, where the wells flow over terraces and where the barley grows - at the ends of roads mortal feet wear out before reaching: there, the gods set their homes, made their palaces, kept their keeps: and along the way, set these Aqrabuamelu to hinder the way.

They say, in these places of dying, in the corners of the wilds, where the sons of angels once walked, but whose sandals have turned to dust - the generations and generations of their abandoned guardians, their orphan soldiers, hatched from hidden clutches buried beneath the rock and clay, swarm in their thousands.

Or, so they say.

Waykeepers of the First Gods

Scorpion Men are - as their name indicates - a fusion of man and giant scorpion. They have the upper body of a man mounted atop the body and tail of a desert scorpion. They speak a language derivative of the Wild, despite the origin of their species being steeped in Chaotic sorcery. 

Encountering Scorpion Men

Scorpion Warrior
Armor Class:	6	No. Appearing:	2-20
Hit Dice:	3+3	Save As:	Fighter 3
Move:	150' (50')	Morale:	8
Attacks:	1 Weapon and 1 Stinger	Treasure Type:	A
Damage:	As Weapon +1 1 + Poison	Alignment:	Neutral
Frequency:	Uncommon	Chance In Lair:	5%

When In Lair When encountered in lair, the No. Encountered represent warrior males; a second roll should be made for females – which are likewise capable, but not necessarily armed, in that they may not be expecting combat. There is a 2-in-6 chance they will be guarding eggs: in which case their Morale increases to 11.

Poison Stinger A character which is injured by the Stinger attack of any Scorpion Man must Save vs Death or perish. The effect takes between 1 and 4 turns; but if a second dose is administered (that is, a second sting occurs and a second save is failed, the time remaining is reduced to 1 to 4 rounds.

On the Organization and Tack of Scorpion Men 

• 3-in-6 Scorpion Men - warriors, the rank-and-file - carry a morning star, shield, and crossbow. With shield equipped, their AC improves to 5.
• 2-in-6 Scorpion Men -  lancers, the cavalry among the chimeric - carry composite longbows and spears, with which they are wont to charge: benefiting as using a lance.
• 1-in-6 Scorpion Men - mutants, regressions - are hatched with the claws of a scorpion rather than the hands of a man: often with projecting antenna and occasionally mandibles in addition to their jaws. These creatures are sentient, albeit not as clever as their kindred - their intelligence corrupted by their instincts - but they benefit from two natural pincer attacks which do 1d6+1 damage each, which they use in lieu of a weapon and in addition to their normal Stinger attack.
  

Split Fire All Scorpion Men may - if equipped with ranged weapons - split fire: that is, move a portion of their movement, fire a ranged weapon, and then move the remainder of their movement afterwards, but still within the Missile phase.

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run the Scorpion Men in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Scorpion Men and for most of the sentient races: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Deeper Lore

The Scorpion Men are free peoples, with tribal affiliations determining the nature of their governance. However, they have a kinship with one another - a bond brought on by their shared origin. Scorpion Men are not a Vice Race: they bear no seed of Chaos - but they were mutated, chimerized by the ancient gods of Chaos to wage war on other celestial beings - the lords of Law and the natural world, alike.

In the ages that followed, they have been employed by various powers as guardians - some say that they guard the gates that hold the sun in the evening - in part due to their territorial nature and in part due to their rugged survivability. They are fiercely loyal to their own - but they are not intractable: with a good reaction and proper communication, they are apt to make powerful allies to any who have curried their favor. They are territorial with one another - although it is rare to find unrelated tribes in proximity to one another: and often, the borders are drawn and observed amicably.

They have some suspicion of the gods and of Clerics. In the modern age, as mentioned, they are free - but the elders tell tales to the hatchlings of days wherein the gods enslaved them, ensorcelled them, sent them to battle for purposes alien to the Scorpion folk. The truth of it - many serve these powers unintentionally due to their penchant to protect their territory: having been placed there to block the movement of other races into a place beyond of which the Scorpion Men have no knowledge - others reside in forgotten places: the purpose of their seeded colony having been lost as the cosmic struggle moved on.

Public domain and open license artwork retrieved from OldBookIllustrations.com, from Pixabay, and from The Public Domain Review and adapted for thematic use. Attribution in alt text.

The Heqet

Flies and bugs and fish come up,
but the toad, it floats and haws.

Flies and bugs and fish swim up,
but the toad, cold blood gives pause.

The mun'gu said that the stars were lining;
the mun'gu says while the spears are shining;
and Zuzu calls.

Flies and bugs and fish draw up,
while the toad sharpens his claws.

- Excerpt from the Third Song of the Sunken Choir

Slimy Skin and Brumal Blood

The Heqet are small – four feet high on average – but heavy, possessing cords of sinuous muscle to rival the strength of a man half again their stature. They take the visage of frog-like creatures, their legs and arms spindly – no neck – belying considerable strength. They are cold blooded, and thus move little, but breed rapidly, as true frogs. They can croak, but are often quiet, and take advantage of their aquatic propensities whenever able. 

The Heqet speak their own language - incorporating clicks and croaks of various tones that are difficult for Humans or Demihumans to imitate.

Encountering the Heqet

Socially, the Heqet congregate in four categorical types: the nature of these types - and the four ways in which the Heqet can be encountered - determines the number appearing:

Enc. Type	Chance	Scouts	Breeders	Mundunugu	Toadlings
In Lair	20%*	3d6 x 10	3d6	2d4	2d4 x 5
Patrol	3-in-6	3d10	1d4-1	~	2d6
Pilgrimage	2-in-6	2d10	1d4-1	1d4+1	2d4
War Party	1-in-6	3d6 x 5	1d4	2d4	2d10-2

Lair chance is 20% for the Heqet - probabilities given for different encounter types are used when the encounter occurs outside the lair of the Heqet.

Amphibious: All Heqet can breathe underwater in fresh or brackish environments. Additionally, all Heqet have a swim speed of 120' (40').

Scouts

Heqet Scouts
Armor Class:	7 (6 with Shield)	No. Appearing:	Special
Hit Dice:	1	Save As:	Fighter 1
Move:	60' (20')	Morale:	7
Attacks:	1 Weapon	Treasure Type:	K
Damage:	1d6	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Uncommon	Chance In Lair:	20%

Heqet scouts make up the bulk of Heqet colonies – roughly 2/3 of the population. They are four feet in height, rubbery skinned, and wear armor made of intertwined leather and cork wood plating. They tend to carry shield and spear.

Leap: Scouts may – in lieu of moving – leap: covering 30’ of ground immediately. If using this ability to charge into combat, the Scout gains a +2 bonus to attacks in that round only. 

Breeders

Heqet Breeders
Armor Class:	6	No. Appearing:	Special
Hit Dice:	2	Save As:	Fighter 2
Move:	60' (20')	Morale:	9
Attacks:	1 Slam	Treasure Type:	J
Damage:	1d4	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Rare	Chance In Lair:	20%

Heqet Breeders are a subset of females bearing eggs. Though not in cold weather – Breeders will broaden in span, taking up almost twice the width as typical, and release eggs which then implant into the skin in an irregular pattern. Tadpoles develop in pockets along the skin for 1d4 months and are birthed from said pockets as fully-formed as Toadlings. Thereafter, the breeder sheds her skin and, a month later, is able to renew the process. There is little attachment to young among the Heqet – Breeders are not protected, as such, over other warriors, but their mobility is impaired by the process.

Leap: Breeders may – in lieu of moving – leap: covering 20’ of ground immediately. If using this ability to charge into combat, the Heqet gains a +2 bonus to attacks in that round only. 

Breeders tend to be unarmed – but may take up arms if available when under threat. Similarly, Breeders do not wear armor – they don’t fit in it – but the thickness and roughness of skin during the breeding cycle provides medium armor (Armor Class 6) equivalence.

Mundunugu

Heqet Mundunugu
Armor Class:	9	No. Appearing:	Special
Hit Dice:	2	Save As:	Elf 1
Move:	60' (20')	Morale:	9
Attacks:	1 Staff	Treasure Type:	ind (lair)
Damage:	1d4	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Rare	Chance In Lair:	20%

Mundunugu are the spirit leaders of the Heqet. They are sworn to Chaos and bound to the dark power Zuzu, adorning themselves in his chimeric likeness. No to Mundunugu look quite the same in their spirit garb. Mundunugu are magic users: commonly employing Curse and Hold style magic. They may cast spells under water.

Leap: Mundunugu may – in lieu of moving – leap: covering 30’ of ground immediately. If using this ability to charge into combat, the Heqet gains a +2 bonus to attacks in that round only.

Of Mundunugu garb – 2-in-6 Mundunugu have garb and adornment sufficient to qualify as light armor, which increases their Armor Class to 7.

Toadlings

Heqet Toadlings
Armor Class:	9	No. Appearing:	Special
Hit Dice:	1-1	Save As:	Normal Man
Move:	90' (30')	Morale:	6
Attacks:	1 Slam	Treasure Type:	Nil
Damage:	1	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Uncommon	Chance In Lair:	20%

Toadlings are the wandering young of the Heqet. Toadlings mature quickly – evolving into their next state after only a few months – but during the first portion of their lives, they have the facilities of toddlers.

Leap: Toadlings may – in lieu of moving – leap: covering 15’ of ground immediately. There is no benefit on a charge for a Toadling.

Toadlings tend to be unarmed – but have been known to throw rocks: which qualify as Sling (-2 to hit) where all targets are treated as being one range increment further than they are.

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run Heqet in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Heqet and for most of the sentient races: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Deeper Lore

The Heqet are a vice race - their Chaos Seed being granted and imbued by the sin of Sloth. The entropic entity associated with Sloth is Zuzu - the Storm Lord and the Bringer of Famine - whose locusts consume what they did not grow and who disappear, sleeping for years at a time until such opportunity arises to feast on the labor of others again. As to how the Heqet came into being, this is a curiosity regarding the other entity - the Rabisu - whose spirited undeath is fueled by the emanations of Zuzu as well.

The Rabisu are vampiric in nature - they lurk in the darkness, pained by daylight, and feed on the life essence of the naturally living: parasites - some seen as cursed for it; others wildly blessed - who are granted presence, eternal, at the cost of others around them. Thralls held by the Rabisu tend to be, themselves, cattle - their warm blood feeding their lords.

Among the Rabisu are many powerful lords - but the most powerful among them, in argument with Zuzu, with whom he saw himself co-equal, was cursed. Zuzu sunk the lands around the vampire king's domain, filled the fallow fields with swamp and salt - precluding him from walking his own estate, salt and water being the fundamental elements of birth and of natural life. And from those bogs, so also were the vampire king's thralls cursed - their blood made cold, their skin made rubber - that the vampire king might be reminded that the life that flowed through him was not his own and again, condemning him: dooming him to rely on the machinations of these slow, indolent minions and the capricious Zuzlings (the personal impish messengers of Zuzu, himself) for basic sustenance.

Though very few know the story to this day - Heqet, thus, were almost at first a cruel joke: a punishment for the hubris of lesser evils. Regardless, the Heqet find themselves in the service of Rabisu frequently, if only for their entropic association - as they make good servants. They can count on their masters not feeding on them, remaining themselves at full strength and at times, their captains and chiefs might even assert to be co-equal to the vampire lord they serve! And they can easily go where the Rabisu cannot - into the waters that birthed the world.

Likewise to this day, the Heqet are highly distasteful to the Rabisu.  In a literal sense, of course.
Public domain or open license artwork retrieved from OldBookIllustrations.com and Pixabay and adapted for thematic use. Attributions in alt text.

Glade Dragons

The man cupped his hand over a knee, allowing a boy to take foot.

"One... Two... Hoist!"

With a quick movement, the boy was up and over the narrow split of the birch tree nearing the top of the rise. The man deftly followed, his landing heavy, but muted by the sack sandals both of them had tied over their feet. Before them, a boulder formed an outcropping - strangely bereft of trees, only two or three, spaced apart, behind the thick wall of growing wood.

"Shhhh," he hushed. And they approached - stepping through the orange ruckus that was the glade in Autumn.

"Here," he continued, "grandson, here lies the secret behind the woods - the reason we cut only what we need, and why we pay gratitude to the woodlands where it provides for those needs. But be silent - if not for fear, but for respect."

The boy nodded. They advanced.

The ground slowly gave way as their perspective crept forward, peeking over the edge of the overhang and into a hollow - ringed and matted by a thousand fallen leaves - revealing the great guardian of the wood. Curled into spiral, the serpentine beast heaved slowly with deep breathing, its eyes closed: sentience hidden and spent in the far Elysium of dreams. With scales the shape of spade-heads, its back and folded wings reflected scintillating reds and yellows - mixed and meshed together into a quilt of unknowable pattern.

The boy startled.

"Don't worry, grandson: see how some of the scales show the sign - the tint of brown about the edges. The guardian sleeps with the coming of the winter. In spring, he will wake - breathing life again with his waking and taking flight between the boughs, a new skin upon him to match the new leaves sprouting and the blossoming of the hanging flowers. And in the spring, again, we will offer gratitude to the forest: knowing it - and we - are in symphony."

The boy nodded - looking again over the edge at the somnolent winged ophidian.

"Come away now - we must let him rest; you have seen what was meant to be seen."

A Flight Between the Boughs

Glade Dragons are the untamed wild. Glade Dragons are the grand expanses where the canopy keeps the sun from searing - the life that teems in the gentle shade. Their scales resemble the leaves, interlaced and interlocked, and both their limbs and neck are long, flexible. Their faces are not short, but not long - blocky, as a stump might be - and on occasion irregular. Their eyes lack an iris, only pupil - wide, wide pupil, to the exclusion of the white - but the pupil is shaded a deep, deep green.

Encountering Glad Dragons

Glade Dragon
Armor Class:	3	No. Appearing:	2-5
Hit Dice:	7	Save As:	Fighter 7
Move:	Std: 90' (30') Fly: 240' (80')	Morale:	9
Attacks:	Claw / Claw / Bite	Treasure Type:	~ (H)
Damage:	1-6 / 1-6 / 2-20	Alignment:	Neutral
Frequency:	Rare	Chance In Lair:	20%

• Chance of Talking: 30%
• Chance of Being Asleep: Special
  
• Spells by Level (1/2/3):  2/1/~
  

Whimsical, animalistic creatures, Glade Dragons move among the trees with a lithe grace and flexibility akin  to a weasel or ferret, but with the mass and power of a lion. They are surprisingly quiet, their voices whispering as the rustle of leaves where branches in the canopy overlay one another.

Glade Dragons have a chance 1 greater to surprise, and a chance 1 less to be surprised in turn, when in their preferred biome. Additionally, the appearance of the dragon is slightly different based on the trees in the area it inhabits: in coniferous regions, a Glade Dragon will be a deep green color and have a striated texture to it; whereas in an oak forest, a Glade Dragon will have large, amoebic scales which will change from a light green in the spring and summer to a yellow or orange in the autumn, then brown in the winter. Glade Dragons in deciduous biomes, as such, are also known to molt in the spring time - their scales having lost all color over the winter sleep.

Regarding sleep, the chance that a Glade Dragon is asleep is determined by the time of year and the behavior of the trees where it lives:

	Of Evergreens...	Of the Deciduous...
In the Spring,	20%	20%
In the Summer,	10%	5%
In the Autumn,	20%	30%
In the Winter,	40%	80%

Thus, there is great variety in Glade Dragons - but each becomes the guardian of their own plot and territory.

Breath Weapon

• Template: Line*
• Range: 80' x 5'
  

The breath weapon of a Glade Dragon is a channeling of growth and can only be used when the dragon has at least one foot on the ground or when it is gripping a live tree still rooted in the ground. When used, a writing mass of green vines and sprigs erupt from the dragon's gullet.

The vines can be directed to turn up to 90 degrees, once every 20', up to the maximum range. The vines can be prematurely ended - that is, if the dragon does not want the line to continue to the full 80' range, it can end it, say, at 60' - or 70'; or 32' - however many as it desires. If ended early, the vines will plunge into the earth, or entwine around plants or rocks around them, securing themselves to the end location.

These vines rapidly brown - hardening from herbaceous tendrils to a solid wooden cord. Any character that fails their Save vs Breath when targeted by the breath attack will be entangled, paralyzed, stuck in place until such time as they can be forcibly extracted from the trunk. A character so entangled should likewise thereafter Save vs Death or begin to suffocate, their chest being compacted by the growth.

When the breath ends, the dragon must move within the next round, leaving behind a trunk for the newly deposited shrub which roots at the point where the dragon's foot was (or feet were, evenly divide between them as applicable) in contact to be grounded. Note, if a Glade Dragon ends its breath weapon early, it will be rooted in two places: where the dragon was and where the termination took place. If the breathing Glade Dragon does not move, or cannot move, within one round of breathing for their breath to take root, they must - themselves - save or be paralyzed: though a Glade Dragon cannot cause itself to suffocate.

Lair and Treasure

Glade Dragons make their lairs in the forest, taking on the character of the forest around them. In the boreal taiga, they will be nestled among the poplars and evergreens; in the sweltering tropics, they will be found amidst the ceiba and strangler figs.

Some lairs are underground - but most take the form of large, living wooden structures: constructed, the sages say, from the very breath of the creature, drawing and adding to the life of the woodland.

Resistances and Immunities

Glade Dragons are immune to Poison and Cold or Ice.

Glade Dragons are vulnerable to Fire: taking double damage therefrom.

Deeper Lore

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run the Glade Dragon in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Glade Dragon and for most of the sentient races: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Glade Dragons are sustained by the animus of the forest: the sway of the branches in the breeze and the perpetual fortitude of thick trunks; the the shade cast by the canopy and the persistence of the lichens, grasses, and moss that grows in its shadow. A Glade Dragon will thus require a territory proportional to its size of forestry to sustain it: larger dragons taking up several hexes, smaller ones requiring only a particular copse.

Glade Dragons are attuned to the trees with which they are cohabited. A Glade Dragon which is surrounded by the trees to which it is attuned will require fewer of them to sustain it, but will encourage the thicker and faster growth of those kind of trees in and surrounding their range.

Attunement is not permanent.

While Glade Dragons will begin life attuned to the forest in which they are spawned, a Glade Dragon will - over time - come to attune to new trees if they are forced to relocate or if the forest around them changes dramatically in tone or content. Thus, the same dragon - years down the line - may have a different appearance to it than it did in years past, if encountering the same player or party.

Public domain and open license art retrieved from Pixabay, the National Gallery of Art, and OldBookIllustrations.com and adapted for thematic use. Attributions in alt text.

Nightmare Dragons

"Where am I?" she thought as the spinning darkness slowly lost its momentum. 

Her skin beneath the thief's leathers was prickled at the cold black. Sitting up, a headache: some soreness in the muscle - but ... unharmed? Was her dagger missing? No... neither her pack. The lantern? The lantern!

A sudden urgency worked its way into her rib cage. Rummaging into her pack, she fumbled at the buckle - a clatter as something fell - a curse at herself: where was her flint? She needed the flint.

"Maejea."

It wasn't a question - more an observation, the Dwarf's voice in the darkness.

"Radovan!"

Clutching the pack closed to her stomach, Maejea felt her way over to the voice's point of origin.

"I've a torch beside me," the Dwarf said, his voice forced, deliberate, "but I'm not sure you want to light it. I've got a nasty break in the leg it'd be like to show."

"You've got a working mouth in your beard, though, Radovan," she replied, "That's a start."

The torch was in her hand in a moment; her heartbeat again regular, the flint soon followed. It was in the small pouch she'd stitched to the pack's flap, near the strap. Steeling herself, she went to work on the torch.

And a click.

She paused. Silence to her left. An inquiring grunt in a Dwarfish tone. Back to work - the torch was fresh; alight - trailing smoke upwards. She held it aloft; removing herself from the billows, offering them instead to the distant cavern ceiling.

A click in the darkness. This time, to her right. Then silence.

"We'd best double back," she said, "I haven't heard Bogdana or Erluf - we'll need to get out if we're apt to get our bearings." 

Radovan was heavy - it helped... she pulled his hand over her shoulder... that he could put part of the combined weight of Dwarf and armor on his good leg. They dragged a few steps together. Her foot slipped - she shifted, looking down, caught herself. Looking up again...

A hiss - not a hiss, a cacophonous whisper: a voice in the sound of molten steel quenching in a pool.

"Don't forget to write."

From above, a neck came into view - the length of a man, the thickness of his thigh - atop it came the head, a smiling loaf: a row of daggers on daggers - taunting. Smiling.

A scream.

Her own scream.

An exclamation of pain and the thump of flesh and steel on flagstones - and the fleeting light of a torch, flickering, its flame fighting against a quenching faux wind, bypassing with rapidity the still cavern air: bound to a fleeing, clutching hand.

Laughter.

Why We Fear the Dark

Nightmare Dragons are the beast in the dark - the monster in the sweltering depths. Their scales are jet black and have a reflective quality to them, as though polished: enough to glimmer in torchlight if caught at the right distance. Their wings are bat-like, their tails terminating in a triangular bone prong, usable as a barbed whip. Their snouts are long - like a gharial - and lined with long teeth standing side by side in almost machine-like precision of their order and orientation. 

Nightmare Dragons are found in deep caves within a few hours flight of civil settlement: or in the deep places where they might creep on under-dwellers. They are only encountered outside of these caverns at night, hiding from the moonlight.

Encountering Nightmare Dragons

Nightmare Dragon
Armor Class:	1	No. Appearing:	1
Hit Dice:	7	Save As:	Elf 7
Move:	Std: 90' (30') Fly: 240' (80')	Morale:	11
Attacks:	Claw / Claw / Bite	Treasure Type:	~ (H)
Damage:	1-6 / 1-6 / 2-24	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Rare	Chance In Lair:	70%

• Chance of Talking: 40%
  
• Chance of Being Asleep: 30%
  
• Spells by Level (1/2/3): 3/1/~
  

Highly intelligent, Nightmare Dragons will intentionally con their prey (and see everything with the concept of terror as prey items!) Their voices are sibilant, their pitch varied, and they are fond of speaking to those able to speak with them - aggrandizing themselves within a shroud of mystery, seeking awe and fear from the onlooker.

Nightmare Dragons have the ability to Hide in Shadows as a Thief of level equal to half again the Dragon's hit dice - so, an HD 7 Nightmare Dragon would have a 75% chance - equivalent to a level 10 Thief. Similarly, Nightmare Dragons have the ability to Move Silently as a Thief of level equal to the Dragon's hit dice - so, an HD 7 Nightmare Dragon would have a 55% chance to Move Silently.

Using their tail, a Nightmare Dragon may make a whip attack in lieu of their two claw attacks. This attack deals 1-8 damage, but also benefits from a bonus to hit against armored targets, the bone spur serving as a puncturing implement:

• Against AC 6 or greater, the whip attack gains no bonus to hit.
• Against AC 3 to 5, the whip attack gains a +1 bonus to hit.
  
• Against AC 2 or less, the whip attack gains  a +3 bonus to hit.
  

Nightmare Dragons have perfect sight in darkness - including magical darkness - out to 120 feet.

Breath Weapon

• Template: Cone
• Range: 80' x 30'
  

The breath weapon of a Nightmare Dragon does not deal damage. 

Instead - it emits a pungent, choking gas of a dark color - ranging in color from gray-black to purple, varying from dragon to dragon - which has an extreme anesthetic or narcotic effect on living beings exposed to it. 

Any character hit by the breath weapon must immediately Save. Characters of fewer hit dice to the dragon breathing are affected as follows:

• On a success, the character is affected as though by the Cause Fear spell.
  
• On a failure, the character falls into a deep slumber - unable to be woken but by the most extreme stimuli (e.g., sudden submersion in ice water). This slumber will last a number of turns equal to 1d4 times the difference in hit dice: thus, a HD 7 Nightmare Dragon breathing on a level 5 character would put them to sleep for 2d4 turns.
  

Characters of hit dice equal to or greater than the dragon are subjected to a lesser effect as follows:

• On a success, the character is shaken, suffering a -1 penalty to hit and to Saves made against the dragon which breathed on the character to elicit the save.
  
• On a failure, the character is affected as though by the Cause Fear spell.
  

Characters of any hit dice comparison - if subjected to the same dragon's breath attack a second time within 24 hours - may re-roll their save if the first fails. Dragons who put characters to sleep tend not to kill them - but revel in taking some captive, leaving others; in moving the characters into an unfamiliar part of the dungeon; or other tricks designed not to kill, but instead to inspire a stress response.

Lair and Treasure

Nightmare Dragons make their lairs in rocky places - places where they can hide in darkness, but still prey after nightfall on surface dwelling sentient peoples. Alternatively, Nightmare Dragons have also been known to roost in the deep places of the earth - preying on dwellers under the mountain instead. They are prideful things, prone to hubris - collecting treasures and trinkets from defeated foes out of vanity as much as anything else - and take pleasure in arraying that horde in a way as to tempt, to lure, the unsuspecting.

Resistances and Immunities

Nightmare Dragons are immune to fear-based, sleep-like, and similar mind-influencing effects.

Nightmare Dragons resist raw magic - such as Magic Missile - taking half damage therefrom.

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run the Nightmare Dragon in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Nightmare Dragon and for most of the sentient races: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Deeper Lore

Fear feeds the Nightmare Dragon.

Spawned from the chaos and tumult in the spirit sea by the countless worries and terrors thrashing and resonating like ripples proceeding from a stone thrown into still waters, Nightmare Dragons are a plague on the world imposed by the Lords of Entropy so as, to their ends, to unintentionally destabilize the societies on which they prey by sowing fear, by reaping dread and consternation, in order to satisfy their natural, insatiable appetites.

The size of the dragon is proportional to the society on which it is able to prey - as such, the largest, most dangerous of them tend to be hidden in plain sight - or underneath plain sight, as it may be - in metropolitan areas. Some live in the labyrinthine sewers of ancient metropolises - causing discord and fright in the shadows: others live in crags surrounded by many small villages - sustaining themselves by insinuation, by turning the suspicions of the villages against one another.

Nightmare Dragons are not prone to wanton violence - understanding that death is the final terror: a delicacy, surely, but an end to the meal: the throat slit on the goose with the golden egg. They may injure their prey - they may resort to violence, may resort to more blunt appearances - in situations where the atmosphere of a place is insufficient to sustain them: however it is not typically a first choice for the reasoning provided. Younger dragons will be less aware of this fact - and older dragons far more clever from experience.

Public domain artwork retrieved from Pixabay and OldBookIllustrations.com and adapted for thematic use. Attributions in alt text.

Basalt Dragons

I watch the snow fall - the evidence of your passing and going: the sign of life, of motion. I feel it as it succumbs to my depths: as the drifts form, their silent sinking coming to rest on my ocean floor. I watch it from my perch; from my hiding place. I am the salt.

I see your ships, your harbors. I see the rock jetties where the sand grows; I see the new harbors, their breakwaters, brick: lifted by your hands - a contrast, as I float above the clouds, stark and angular, un-living: unlike the rolling shores, the barriers, the coral seas. I am the rock.

Wooden ships - they cannot reach me.

Sorcerers and seekers - they look in the wrong places. The shallow places.

I am the deeps - I am the life's bed - where creation was born and where creation has ended. It is my watch to have the world turn, but to turn with it, to move as the world moves, to breathe only as it breathes. As is creation, so am I. Where the surface rises and falls, where the surface ebbs and flows, where even the mountains wash outward - outward to me - here, I will be: as I was.

As is creation, so I will be.

With Scales of Stone and Salt

Basalt Dragons emerge from the deeps - shadows at first, growing rapidly as the sunlight penetrates the haze of fathoms and fathoms of water - until the creature either veers, revealing its length, or explodes from the waves in a storm of spray. Their scales are smooth to the touch - dark gray to gray-blue in color - while hard and cold as stone. When swimming, the move like an iguana - side to side, their wings and appendages held close to maintain their streamlining - on land, or in the air, they take on a regal bearing, standing tall and presenting a wide front to project their dominance.

Basalt Dragons are found in the deep ocean. Rarely - very rarely - they might be found in shallow seas: anywhere with sufficient depth to slake their thirst for peace under the waves and anywhere with sufficient salinity to speak to their connection to the primordial ocean.

Encountering Basalt Dragons

Basalt Dragon
Armor Class:	-4	No. Appearing:	1
Hit Dice:	12	Save As:	Fighter 11
Move:	Std: 90' (30') Swim: 135' (45') Fly: 180' (60')	Morale:	11
Attacks:	Claw / Claw / Bite	Treasure Type:	~ (H)
Damage:	2d6 / 2d6 / 6d8	Alignment:	Law
Frequency:	Very Rare	Chance In Lair:	5%*

• Chance of Talking: 40% • Chance of Being Asleep: 10% • Spells by Level (1/2/3): 3/3/3

Basalt Dragons are huge - and they know it. They are proud and courageous - a bravery bought by confidence. Their voices - if they speak - are low and resonating, shaking the core of the listener: but they speak little, themselves convinced that they are above the lesser, younger creatures making up the sentient (and thus player) races.

Basalt Dragons are not territorial - tolerating other dragons and other creatures within their range: some - pairs or bonded covens - will have extended conversations with one another, extending for months in draconic discussion. Many consider themselves natural philosophers - their perspectives colored by their lives spent below the waves, often beyond the reach of sunlight.

In the ocean, Basalt Dragons are never surprised - however surprise explorers as normal. While the common tactic of the Basalt Dragon when engaging an unwanted visitor is to hide beneath, swimming in vertical ascent towards a target in ambush, the dice chance represents either the dragon's confidence - I don't need to surprise these creatures, they are no match for me - or its curiosity, in the case of a favorable reaction.

Basalt Dragons are able to breathe with equal facility in salt water and in the air.

Regarding No. Appearing, if the dragon is not asleep and encountered in lair, there is a 1-in-4 chance of a group of the dragons congregating together to contemplate the depths. If such an encounter occurs, the dragons will surprise normally - their minds preoccupied - however they will number between 2 and 6, with preference to fewer. This can be accomplished by rolling 3d3 and summing the result of the lower two in order to determine the number of Basalt Dragons present.

Breath Weapon

• Template: Line
• Range*: 120' x 10'
  

The breath attack of a Basalt Dragon is a stream of elemental deep: a spiraling mass, almost like a helix of several continuous bubbles rotating around a frighteningly cold core of heavy water. Underwater, the breath weapon functions normally: however, if the breath effect leaves the water, its remaining range is halved: that is, a Basalt Dragon, submerged 20 feet beneath the waves, when breathing towards a row of harpooners perched across the bow of a vessel would extend the breath weapon a total of 70' from its point of origin: 20' normally from the submerged dragon to the surface and then 50' further above the water, those 50' counting as 100' above the waves.

The damage from a breath attack of a Basalt Dragon is half elemental ice and half bludgeoning. Creatures which resist ice suffer half damage only on a failed save and no damage at all on a successful save; creatures which are immune to ice may re-roll if they fail their save against it on the first attempt.

A target of Ogre size or smaller struck by the breath attack of a Basalt Dragon that does not succeed its Save vs Breath is buffeted backwards, along the path of the stream, a number of feet equal to the damage suffered.

Lair and Treasure

Basalt Dragons lair in the bedrock of the sea - deep into the far reaches of the oceanic twilight zone. They will collect treasure and goods taken from ships of the surface-dwellers, from the coffers of the under-sea peoples, or from sacrifices made by primitives from both. They are partial to organic gemstones - pearls, aragonite, etc. - and metals that do not corrode with the salt.

Resistances and Immunities

Basalt Dragons are immune to Cold and Ice and resist Fire or effects targeting breathing - such as a poison cloud: taking half damage or half effect therefrom.

Basalt Dragons are vulnerable to Lightning, taking double-damage therefrom.

In subduing a Basalt Dragon, they are half as likely as normal to be subdued, in terms of percentiles.

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run Basalt Dragons in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Basalt Dragons and for most of the sentient races: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Deeper Lore

Basalt Dragons are sustained by rhythm - the tranquil predictability of the thermohaline conveyor, the frigid stillness of the waters beneath the currents and of the sleeping bedrock. The undersea is vast in three-dimensional space - as such, the Basalt Dragon requires fewer hexes of space than might be implied. This is likewise influenced by how active the space is - in cool climates, or deep into the far cracks of the midnight zone, where currents are weaker and the world stands still, the Basalt Dragon's needs are satisfied more readily than in shallower, warmer, or populated waters. Basalt Dragons will sleep naturally for 2 to 8 weeks at a time, waking to survey their world around them for a few days: often times staying in the deeps, far away from Human activities; though they will be woken if their tranquility is broken, either by natural activity (like an earthquake or perhaps powerful storm in a shallower region) or by an increase in the activity of the sentient races, sufficient to disrupt the rhythms of the dragon's territory - thus "starving" them - as normal for a creature sustained by esoteric means.

The inspiration for the Basalt Dragon is Lotan, or Leviathan - great monsters in the deep places of the world, associated with creation itself: Lotan being of the sea before the creation - recall, Lotan, or Tiamat the Chaos Serpent: "chaos" to the ancients was in reference to the state of being before the imposition of order, of civilization, and of law at the hands of the Gods - the Basalt Dragon is representative of a state beyond the reach of civilization, beyond the scale and scope of man. They are a vestige of nature - a note to remind mankind that the sea is always larger, always foreign, and always the master in its own domain.

Basalt Dragons are birthed from the bedrock - rather than reproducing in a traditional sense. When a place has been quiet long enough that the quiet has become part of its essence - then might one of these terrifying creatures be formed. The hatching is typically sudden and monumental - an earthquake beneath the waves, believed to be the cause of tsunami style floods along low coasts in the target range. It seems that the noise, the commotion of this process would be out of tune with the nature of the beast - and likewise, it would seem a cause to wake any nearby Basalt Dragons within hearing distance. Scholars say - however - that this may be an attribute of the social nature of these dragons: an adaptation that allow the creatures to commune with one another, passing their culture and their perspective through to generations - an alien form of parenting where the parents did not bear their children.

Public domain artwork retrieved from OldBookIllustrations.com, Wikimedia Commons, and the National Gallery of Art and adapted for use. Attributions in at text.

Grass Dragons

The rock bounced off of one branch and into the trunk of the scrub bush - producing a satisfying tap-tap. Aoide traded another of the slick stones from her left hand to her right; tossing it up to herself a few times, taking a bead - perhaps she could hit three...

"Be careful, Halfling."

The Elf's voice was stern, but simultaneously indifferent. Information, not warning.

"Throw too many of those things and you may disturb the spirit of the place."

Aoide continued tossing the dusty stone to herself.

"There's naught but rocks, sticks, and what pass these parts for trees in this place," she replied, "I'm just moving one piece of spirit over next to the other."

The Elf's lip curled. It might have been a smile. Smoke curled likewise - along the meandering breeze into her nostrils. Good - the others had gotten the fire going; they'd be eating soon enough.

Then a crash.

A hillock - no, not a hillock - beneath the rise a hundred yards distant lurches upwards: first, a head the size of a horse's; then a barrel of a neck; then wings: snapping against gravity. A serpent - a 30 foot serpent - ascends rapidly to the south, away from the camp. Rush - rush in the campsite, dirt is kicked to the campfire, horses rounded up and led back - Aoide is transfixed.

The creature is in the air. Beneath it, behind it, streamers - four feet long - waiving in the wind like many tails from a kite. It gazes down, circles once - it is beautiful.

It turns - with a powerful thrust, it fades to the south.

"We should disturb spirits more often!"

The Hills are Alive

Grass Dragons are the lords of the plains - guardians of grain; sovereigns of the swaying steppe. Their coloration can vary from a sandy tan to light green, depending on the lands they occupy - however the defining characteristic to distinguish them from other beasts of similar ilk is the termination of their scales. An individual scale being leaf, or spade, shaped - at its pointed culmination, a less chitinous tendril forms, light and flexible along the stalk, but frayed at the top - like a reed. These stalks are naturally gravitate upwards, such that if the dragon is at rest, they will face the sky, moving with the breeze as would grass around them - however if the dragon moves, they will move with it: the base first, the shaft and head following in sequence as their inertia is broken.

Continual motion - such as flight - will largely have these shafts in conformity to form: that is, they do not point skyward if the beast is galloping across the plain, but instead trail behind as streamers in its slip-stream; but abrupt motion, such as the raising of its head to observe interlopers to its dominion, waking from its slumber, will cause a ripple effect along the moving lengths.

Grass Dragons are found in the plains - in the steppes or the savannas - places where grass grows tall and where the wind blows free.

Encountering Grass Dragons

Grass Dragon
Armor Class:	2	No. Appearing:	1-3
Hit Dice:	9	Save As:	Fighter 9
Move:	Std: 90' (30') Fly: 240' (80')	Morale:	9
Attacks:	Claw / Claw Bite	Treasure Type:	~ (H)
Damage:	1-6 / 1-6 3-24	Alignment:	Neutral
Frequency:	Rare	Chance In Lair:	10%

• Chance of Talking: 35%
• Chance of Being Asleep: 35%
• Spells by Level (1/2/3): 2/2/1
  

Grass Dragons, at a glance, seem more animalistic than a traditional dragon - which arises in part from a very feline demeanor. When able to speak, they speak little: they have more in common with the earth than they do with the creatures that walk it.

Grass Dragons are only weakly territorial - tolerating interlopers commonly with indifference, less commonly with curiosity - but will object viciously to destruction of their environment. They are anathema to fire and react negatively to smoke or things that smell of smoke.

Due to their shape and scale biology, Grass Dragons are easy to miss in a sea of grass. Thus, a dragon which is encountered outside its lair has a 4-in-6 chance to surprise - if the dragon is asleep, it is likely the party will not notice it at all: instead thinking it merely a shift of topography. Grass Dragons, if awake, cannot be surprised in a grassland environment (though underground, or in other biomes, surprise as normal).

Breath Weapon

• Template: Cloud
• Range: 40' x 40' x 20'
  

When a Grass Dragon breathes, it breathes a strong wind that is permeated by shrapnel: kernels, grain spikes, and chaff. It swirls in a vortex - following the physical imprint of a typical cloud breath effect.

Any character who takes damage from a Grass Dragon's breath attack is considered seeded. After 1d6 rounds if the dragon is still alive and in proximity (or 1d6 hours if the dragon has been killed or has departed) a seeded character must roll a Save vs Poison. On failure, they sprout tendrils akin to dogweed - which will impede them until removed. A seeded character as such suffers a -1 penalty on attack rolls only, a -1 penalty to Poison and Paralysis Saves, or a -2 penalty to any Save to negate a fire effect, such as a Fireball.

• Magic akin to Remove Disease or Remove Curse will eliminate seeding.
• Additionally, if the character takes fire damage, there is an X-in-6 chance (where X is the amount of damage taken), that the seeds will burn, removing the effect.
• A referee may allow a character to attempt burning to remove the affect: which can typically be abbreviated as taking 1d6 flame damage.

Left untreated, the character may manually remove the stalks - which is unpleasant, but has no negative game effect: so doing will allow them to save the following morning: on success, they suffer no penalties on that day; on failure, they regrow tendrils again - impeded until they are yanked out or burned again.Manual removal of the stalks takes one turn.

After three such consecutive successes, the condition is lifted.

Lair and Treasure

Grass Dragon lairs tend to be shallow hollows in the earth, filled with the odds and ends of interlopers who drew the dragon's ire, complimented by offerings from primitive peoples - perhaps from an older time - who saw them as harbingers of fertility.

Grass Dragons tend to have little interest in physical treasure - contrary to the nature of some other wyrms - but they will guard what they do have instinctively. They have been known, however, (as supported by the offertory portion of their hordes) to make trades.

Resistances and Immunities

Grass Dragons are immune to Poison and resist Cold or Ice: taking half damage therefrom.

Grass Dragons are vulnerable to Fire: taking double damage therefrom.

In subduing a Grass Dragon, they are half as likely as normal to be subdued, in terms of percentiles. However, if a credible threat is made to the grasslands, such as the positioning for starting large scale destruction of the habitat, these chances should be increased proportionally - up to but not exceeding double the normal chance.

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run the Grass Dragon in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Grass Dragons and for most of the bestiary: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Deeper Lore

Grass Dragons are sustained by the living steppe. Specifically, the impetus that drives graminoids to burst from their seed casings to bathe in the sunlight: then likewise the catharsis of their decay with the seasons - their purpose having been fulfilled and their ecology maintaining the eternal cycle. This process - this energy - is what sustains the dragon, who keeps watch over a territory to which they are innately connected.

The territory required for a dragon is proportional to its size: a copse in the woods, a break in the trees being sufficient for a hatchling - up to a day's full flight of hexes needed for an ancient sleeper.

A dragon being sustained by the life of the plains, itself, will thus sleep for as long as the natural balance is in order: often times, ancient wyrms residing in primordial spaces will curl up over their lairs, blocking the entry and becoming one with the earth. Because of this connection - if a Grass Dragon's range is damaged, such as by the building of a township, such as by wildfires, by mudslides, or other events diminishing the space, the dragon will wake through hunger - its reaction to the change will differ based on circumstances, but regardless, the larger the disturbance, the more likely and the more rapidly the creature will wake and act. 

Grass Dragons do not reproduce in the typical sense - instead, they are forces of nature which are created codependent with the growth of their habitat: untamed wild begets dragons; dragons advance untamed wilds. When groups are encountered, they are most frequently siblings - manifested together through the coalescence of being, bonded through their shared experience and affinities. And while a Grass Dragon shares kinship with other Grass Dragons - so long as their ranges are distinct enough to keep good neighbors - the relationship between siblings is different and strong: a Grass Dragon will defend its siblings viciously and without fear or intimidation.

Public domain artwork downloaded from OldBookIllustrations.com, the National Gallery of Art, or Wikimedia Commons and adapted for thematic use. Attributions in alt text.