The god of rage returned to his island after his gift to his fellow brother. There was some satisfaction and pride within him that he had aided another one of his sibling's quest of vengeance to sate their anger towards a demon. However now was not the time to relax, there was work to be done. The bubbling remnants of the imprisoned avatar began to spawn hatchlings of the first batch of 'mortal' dragons. Infantile wyverns, drakes, wyrms, and hellkites slithered to the surface, gnawing at the air voraciously. They were hungry.
Some of these creatures, by primeval instinct, swam further into the sea to find food, while the rest were drawn to their homeland. The desolate island had no food to give, but they were drawn by the safe rocky shores that belonged to their creator. Grimloq, having taking some fragments of trees from the island turtle, crushed the samples in his hand and breathed his divine breathe upon the grinded powder of bark. They morphed into a new strain, a new species of trees. One that was far more heat tolerant then typical plants, and can survive and prosper in harsh, malnourished soil and rock. The fire deity hovered above his island, and released an innumerable amount of small seeds that scattered the island and surrounding shore.
Bahamut rose up behind Grimloq, his illuminate body blocking out the island's view of the sun, casting it in shadow, just before the divine beast casted down a thick veil of divine light, soaking the seeds and dragons with Grimloq's energy. By this miracle, the first generation of Grimloq's specialized trees sprouted from the earth. Roots tore through stone and some even along rivers of molten lava, leftover scars of the duel of avatars. The bark tolerated the heat of such harsh terrain. However, Dragons were not built to consume trees. Predators by design, the swarm of dragons that crowded the shoreline began to cannibalize each other in a mad frenzy, outliers of the crowd fled to further reaches of the still growing jungle while others ripped each other a part. Many sparred with primitive measures of biting and tackling. Some even tried to exhale flames, which had no effect on their fellow monsters. In this crazed madness of hunger, Grimloq began designing the beasts to sastisfy the population of dragons, or at least, whatever would be left of the population.
Mirodons, the first non-dragon beast of Grimloq. They shared no direct relation with dragons, nor did they have an affinity to flame, yet they were still cold blooded and were built to be a somewhat of a challenge. Their skin was like tough leather, and their backs were armored with thick plated scales that arced into an impressive row of spines. Their tail were clubbed with similar plated scales. They were short, but stocky in build. Adults averaging at 30 feet in length, they can weigh well over 3 tons, and their short faces armed with rough sturdy teeth were designed to chew through the tough leaves and vegetation of the jungle. They travel in somewhat large packs.
The new creation of Grimloq were hastened by his power to spread and grow quickly. Several herds were already formed across different regions of the still forming jungle at the island's east side. To an infant dragon, such a beast would be nearly impossible to take down, so several of these primitive beasts were slain by their own creator, and their massive carcasses were dropped and scattered at the shores. The surviving dragons, still numerous, but were dwarfed by the corpses of their kin, swarmed to the new source of meat over the remains of their cannibalized victims. This would be their only free me.
Post sum: Dragons hatch, most of em swim to shore but some fuck off into the ocean to either become eaten by sea monsters or eat fish and evolve into sea serpent/dragons. (Have fun with that.)
Grimloq makes specialized trees thrive on his island before making a species of basically a dinosaur to eat them, which will then be hunted by the surviving dragons after that whole mass cannibalizing incident.
Level 3 starting might: 6
Spent: -1 miracle, creating a new species of tree(jungle 'fire' trees) -1 miracle to spread and grow trees at a very quick rate -1 miracle to create a new species of animal (mirodon) -1 miracle to increase and grow that species's population total: 1 might. remaining 5 might. Acts of creation 2/6
Now that’s school done and I got no more exams to take I’ll make an effort to keep it up with this posting speed, I’ll make grimloqs next post either tonight or tommorrow.
Joseph Peter Kane is an old but imposingly large human. Standing at 6'5" and weighing over 200 lbs, the status of his body is owed to both his stubbornness to not retire his blade and rigorous exercise. His white hair speaks enough of his age, and each scar over his flesh tells a story, the most noticeable being the scar over what was once his left eye, where he now only keeps an eyepatch over. Joseph often sports his uniform armor, branded with fur to keep warm in the harsher elements, even in situations where such equipment isn't necessary.
BIOGRAPHY
Joseph was born in the outskirts of a free city-state, named Magnoshia. This small village wasn't much different then any other of the multicultural city states that nestled in the plains, only that it was a bit more remote, especially for it's small population. At the age of 10 he began hunting with his father, at the age of 12 he practiced swordplay with his older brother, and at the age of 15 he was enlisted in the village's garrison of guards. At 32 he was married to a Wrelsman woman, Eve Westari, and had a halfbreed son named Julian. Like his father, his father before him, and so on, Joseph carried his humble career with pride and honor. While one would one imagine that the life of a guard in a small remote village would be a relatively peaceful career, Joseph's scars tell another story. Every now and then there were of course, petty thieves and social discourses to keep him busy. One time he even had to kill an angry mother bear that got too close to home(And he still has that deep claw-marked scar on his chest). However, the most problems the village had were the orcs. Due to Magnoshia's remote borders they were often attacked by small bands of orcs, and due to their distance it was difficult to receive aid from other city states.
The local garrison had to deal with with such threats with lackluster equipment and defenses. The orcs were relentless, for every orc they felled, at least three soldiers went with it. Extensive labor to put out the occasional fire from raids and rebuilding damages became more and more taxing on the small city. The population kept declining as the raids wore down both the ranks of soldiers and the unlucky families that were smashed by the savages. Joseph watched his hometown slowly crumble and wither away. After decades of small raids, a larger orc tribe had their turn in burning the streets of Magnoshia. The already dwindling city had no chance to prepare for the storm of orcs bursting through the gates and trampling over defensive lines as their mad lust for destruction turned Magnolia to ash. In the final battle, many of the town's soldiers fought with bravery, all but Joseph.
Joseph was afraid. Afraid of losing battle, afraid of the orcs, afraid of death. He had fought bravely in past battles. Survived many encounters. He even risked his life once to save a family out of a burning building. But a life of that hell had finally broke him. He had never felt such hopeless fear before. All the fears he felt before had accumulated to that hellish parade of death. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to join the fate of his town as it crumbled to dust. He watched his brother charged into battle with a valiant war cry.
He didn't even stay to see what became of his sibling's fate. Joseph, just ran. He escaped in the chaos, and he didn't look back. Not for his comrades, not for any innocent lives, his brother, not his family, wife, son. No one. His will to survive in that moment betrayed his cares for the very town he grew up in.
He couldn't remember how far he had ran, how long did he sprint across the open night fields. He eventually ended up on a dirt road common for caravans, and passed out there. Found by merchants he awoke in a new city. The local authorities were filled with dread at the news of Magnoshia's destruction, and offered their sympathies. One even offered for him to start a new life there, with a position in their local garrison. Joseph refused. His sense of guilt had refused him of such a luxury.
He had abandoned his pride, his family, and his honor that night. A sin he can never forgive himself for. He didn't trust himself, nor give himself the pleasure, of such a life. Instead, on that day he vowed to himself never to display such cowardice again, and that before he died, he'd kill as many orcs as many of those damned orcs his will would let him. It was that, vengeful, hatred that motivated him to continue beyond instinctual self preservation. That rage that desired him to restore his fallen honor and self pride. He began traveled with merchants from city to city in exchange to protect them on their journeys. Sure enough, a small band of orcs attacked the last caravan he traveled on.
This was his chance to redeem his vengeance, yet the unnatural strength and ferocity of the orcs proved too much for him. He managed to slay only a single orc before the rest of the band subdued his efforts. As a cruel joke, fate would not let him die there. The orcs left him to bleed out with a broken, old body alongside a burning, ransacked caravan. The bodies of other fallen mercenaries and merchants were the last thing he remembered that night.
Another band of merchants eventually found the old man when inspecting the wreckage, and treated his wounds. For most, suffering such a crushing defeat would be where they would quit. However, Joseph refused to flee from his path of vengeance, to give into his weakness and continue to sully his pride. The bitterness he felt that he wasn't finished off there only increased his burning hatred for orcs.
SKILLS
-- Swordsmanship
Having a lifetime of experience as a guard wielding the same blade, Joseph is well honed to wield his two-handed sword into battle.
-- Muscle
He is exceptionally strong for his age with a body that has clashed with the likes of orcish foes. While he couldn't beat an orc at arm wrestling, he certainly has an advantage of strength over other humans of his trade.
-- Devoted(Stubborn) Will
Though he has had his moments of weakness, his worn experiences of battle and his rage for both orcs and his sin has forced him to grow a rather, absurdly strong sense of will. Having witnessed hell on earth, he actively refuses to let fear or doubts take hold of him again. Tolerant to both pain and fear, this trait however is somewhat responsible for making reckless decisions and judgement, along with a foolish sense of pride and honor.
WEAPONS
-- Orc-Slayer (As seen in above ref) A 'cute' little name for a standard steel-issue two-handed sword, the Orc-Slayer is a sword almost as old as the once proud guard himself, and has shared the same hellish history(As well as numerous blacksmith maintenance trips). Carved into one side of the blade near the sword's hilt marks a roman numeral tally of how many orcs he has slayed with it. The current tally is three.
Alistar the Wyrmcaller
{{ Male }}
TOTEM
A necklace made up of various small animal bones from likely small rats and lizards, as well as what appears to be the talon of a crow, and a few aged feathers. Joseph also added a few orc teeth to it's collection.
PERSONALITY
Mad, Ruthless, Vengeful. There is a clear conflict of ideology between Alistar and Joseph, Joseph being an honorable warrior and Alistar having been a cruel and insane bringer of destruction. Yet underneath this conflict they are kindred spirits. Though Joseph denies it, both are prone to maddening vengeance and are driven by power, and both are stubborn with their prideful egos. Alistar's magic had turned him into a monster, both literally and overtime, metaphorically. He had forgotten his humanity as he seeked power, and that lead into a fearsome reputation of destruction. He believed he was unbeatable, and had pictured himself as a god among the mortal realm. A foolish sin that lead to his inevitable downfall. Each time he shed his form into a monster, his sanity left with him.
SKILLS
-- Drakeform
When Alistar was alive, his powers allowed him to transform himself into a mighty winged reptile of intense fire and impenetrable scales. He was feared by many as a flying, Burning representation of death. He remembers little of the origins of his magic prowess, Not even(perhaps due to his madness) he fully recalls the nature of his powers, whether it is based on a real creature in this world or another, a demon from the fires of hell, or merely came to be out of his magic alone. As skill over magic grew, his transformation evolved, as if it were it's own living creature, growing and going under rapid changes. Joseph's inheritance of this power is currently limited, as Alistar refers to it as a 'human imitation' of his perfection. He can only achieve this form for 2 minutes, and limited to once a day due to it's exhaustive toll. During so however he has the ability to breathe flames and possess marginally inhuman strength and speed, with a tough hide of scales as hard as stone, and can leap great distances(but not fly) with the aid of malformed wings. Like Alistar, the transformation preys at one's sanity, and for Joseph it difficult to utilize this power without being rendered into a feral, bloodlusted animal.
instead of a great and mighty beast, Joseph is limited to achieving a sort of humanoid abomination with twisted horns, malformed wings, stone-like scales, an absurdly long spiny tail, and a firey maw. However, just as Alistar's form slowly evolved with him, there may be a time when Joseph too can attain a much more impressive form, and a less limited restraint on how long it can be used.
-- Wyrmblood
Due to the corruptible influence of Alistar's transformation magic, He had attained a passive, possibly indefinite heat resistance as not even molten rock appears to burn his flesh. This affinity to flames also allowed him to generate fire off of his body. Alistar also seemed to have benefited a more extensive longevity and a somewhat resilient and inhumanly strong mortal body due to this accursed magic.
@Sierra Yo! This RP has interested me so I made a sheet! I hope everything is in order, I'm not entirely sure if he fits the power scale here so let me know if it's a bit much. Thanks!
Joseph P. Kane
{{ Male || 63 }}
APPEARANCE
Joseph Peter Kane is an old but imposingly large human. Standing at 6'5" and weighing over 200 lbs, the status of his body is owed to both his stubbornness to not retire his blade and rigorous exercise. His white hair speaks enough of his age, and each scar over his flesh tells a story, the most noticeable being the scar over what was once his left eye, where he now only keeps an eyepatch over. Joseph often sports his uniform armor, branded with fur to keep warm in the harsher elements, even in situations where such equipment isn't necessary.
BIOGRAPHY
Joseph was born in the outskirts of a free city-state, named Magnoshia. This small village wasn't much different then any other of the multicultural city states that nestled in the plains, only that it was a bit more remote, especially for it's small population. At the age of 10 he began hunting with his father, at the age of 12 he practiced swordplay with his older brother, and at the age of 15 he was enlisted in the village's garrison of guards. At 32 he was married to a Wrelsman woman, Eve Westari, and had a halfbreed son named Julian. Like his father, his father before him, and so on, Joseph carried his humble career with pride and honor. While one would one imagine that the life of a guard in a small remote village would be a relatively peaceful career, Joseph's scars tell another story. Every now and then there were of course, petty thieves and social discourses to keep him busy. One time he even had to kill an angry mother bear that got too close to home(And he still has that deep claw-marked scar on his chest). However, the most problems the village had were the orcs. Due to Magnoshia's remote borders they were often attacked by small bands of orcs, and due to their distance it was difficult to receive aid from other city states.
The local garrison had to deal with with such threats with lackluster equipment and defenses. The orcs were relentless, for every orc they felled, at least three soldiers went with it. Extensive labor to put out the occasional fire from raids and rebuilding damages became more and more taxing on the small city. The population kept declining as the raids wore down both the ranks of soldiers and the unlucky families that were smashed by the savages. Joseph watched his hometown slowly crumble and wither away. After decades of small raids, a larger orc tribe had their turn in burning the streets of Magnoshia. The already dwindling city had no chance to prepare for the storm of orcs bursting through the gates and trampling over defensive lines as their mad lust for destruction turned Magnolia to ash. In the final battle, many of the town's soldiers fought with bravery, all but Joseph.
Joseph was afraid. Afraid of losing battle, afraid of the orcs, afraid of death. He had fought bravely in past battles. Survived many encounters. He even risked his life once to save a family out of a burning building. But a life of that hell had finally broke him. He had never felt such hopeless fear before. All the fears he felt before had accumulated to that hellish parade of death. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to join the fate of his town as it crumbled to dust. He watched his brother charged into battle with a valiant war cry.
He didn't even stay to see what became of his sibling's fate. Joseph, just ran. He escaped in the chaos, and he didn't look back. Not for his comrades, not for any innocent lives, his brother, not his family, wife, son. No one. His will to survive in that moment betrayed his cares for the very town he grew up in.
He couldn't remember how far he had ran, how long did he sprint across the open night fields. He eventually ended up on a dirt road common for caravans, and passed out there. Found by merchants he awoke in a new city. The local authorities were filled with dread at the news of Magnoshia's destruction, and offered their sympathies. One even offered for him to start a new life there, with a position in their local garrison. Joseph refused. His sense of guilt had refused him of such a luxury.
He had abandoned his pride, his family, and his honor that night. A sin he can never forgive himself for. He didn't trust himself, nor give himself the pleasure, of such a life. Instead, on that day he vowed to himself never to display such cowardice again, and that before he died, he'd kill as many orcs as many of those damned orcs his will would let him. It was that, vengeful, hatred that motivated him to continue beyond instinctual self preservation. That rage that desired him to restore his fallen honor and self pride. He began traveled with merchants from city to city in exchange to protect them on their journeys. Sure enough, a small band of orcs attacked the last caravan he traveled on.
This was his chance to redeem his vengeance, yet the unnatural strength and ferocity of the orcs proved too much for him. He managed to slay only a single orc before the rest of the band subdued his efforts. As a cruel joke, fate would not let him die there. The orcs left him to bleed out with a broken, old body alongside a burning, ransacked caravan. The bodies of other fallen mercenaries and merchants were the last thing he remembered that night.
Another band of merchants eventually found the old man when inspecting the wreckage, and treated his wounds. For most, suffering such a crushing defeat would be where they would quit. However, Joseph refused to flee from his path of vengeance, to give into his weakness and continue to sully his pride. The bitterness he felt that he wasn't finished off there only increased his burning hatred for orcs.
SKILLS
-- Swordsmanship
Having a lifetime of experience as a guard wielding the same blade, Joseph is well honed to wield his two-handed sword into battle.
-- Muscle
He is exceptionally strong for his age with a body that has clashed with the likes of orcish foes. While he couldn't beat an orc at arm wrestling, he certainly has an advantage of strength over other humans of his trade.
-- Devoted(Stubborn) Will
Though he has had his moments of weakness, his worn experiences of battle and his rage for both orcs and his sin has forced him to grow a rather, absurdly strong sense of will. Having witnessed hell on earth, he actively refuses to let fear or doubts take hold of him again. Tolerant to both pain and fear, this trait however is somewhat responsible for making reckless decisions and judgement, along with a foolish sense of pride and honor.
WEAPONS
-- Orc-Slayer (As seen in above ref) A 'cute' little name for a standard steel-issue two-handed sword, the Orc-Slayer is a sword almost as old as the once proud guard himself, and has shared the same hellish history(As well as numerous blacksmith maintenance trips). Carved into one side of the blade near the sword's hilt marks a roman numeral tally of how many orcs he has slayed with it. The current tally is three.
Alistar the Wyrmcaller
{{ Male }}
TOTEM
A necklace made up of various small animal bones from likely small rats and lizards, as well as what appears to be the talon of a crow, and a few aged feathers. Joseph also added a few orc teeth to it's collection.
PERSONALITY
Mad, Ruthless, Vengeful. There is a clear conflict of ideology between Alistar and Joseph, Joseph being an honorable warrior and Alistar having been a cruel and insane bringer of destruction. Yet underneath this conflict they are kindred spirits. Though Joseph denies it, both are prone to maddening vengeance and are driven by power, and both are stubborn with their prideful egos. Alistar's magic had turned him into a monster, both literally and overtime, metaphorically. He had forgotten his humanity as he seeked power, and that lead into a fearsome reputation of destruction. He believed he was unbeatable, and had pictured himself as a god among the mortal realm. A foolish sin that lead to his inevitable downfall. Each time he shed his form into a monster, his sanity left with him.
SKILLS
-- Drakeform
When Alistar was alive, his powers allowed him to transform himself into a mighty winged reptile of intense fire and impenetrable scales. He was feared by many as a flying, Burning representation of death. He remembers little of the origins of his magic prowess, Not even(perhaps due to his madness) he fully recalls the nature of his powers, whether it is based on a real creature in this world or another, a demon from the fires of hell, or merely came to be out of his magic alone. As skill over magic grew, his transformation evolved, as if it were it's own living creature, growing and going under rapid changes. Joseph's inheritance of this power is currently limited, as Alistar refers to it as a 'human imitation' of his perfection. He can only achieve this form for 2 minutes, and limited to once a day due to it's exhaustive toll. During so however he has the ability to breathe flames and possess marginally inhuman strength and speed, with a tough hide of scales as hard as stone, and can leap great distances(but not fly) with the aid of malformed wings. Like Alistar, the transformation preys at one's sanity, and for Joseph it difficult to utilize this power without being rendered into a feral, bloodlusted animal.
instead of a great and mighty beast, Joseph is limited to achieving a sort of humanoid abomination with twisted horns, malformed wings, stone-like scales, an absurdly long spiny tail, and a firey maw. However, just as Alistar's form slowly evolved with him, there may be a time when Joseph too can attain a much more impressive form, and a less limited restraint on how long it can be used.
-- Wyrmblood
Due to the corruptible influence of Alistar's transformation magic, He had attained a passive, possibly indefinite heat resistance as not even molten rock appears to burn his flesh. This affinity to flames also allowed him to generate fire off of his body. Alistar also seemed to have benefited a more extensive longevity and a somewhat resilient and inhumanly strong mortal body due to this accursed magic.
Fire in its broadest terms is vastly important to the world. It is the heat of the star that gives life to the rocky planets it showers. It is the molten pools within a core that can shape a continent, forges to craft metal, to give heat to those that are cold. Fire is just as much a creator as it is a destroyer. Grimloq emobies this duality with his desire to create creatures in his likeness, as well upholding a passionate, wrathful desire for violence and destruction. One would assume that such a duality of destruction and creation would breed something of an entirely chaotic nature, but Grimloq upholds a sense of honor and pride that structures himself more with a code to follow. His actions are seldom without reason, though often he may find excuses just to fight, he ensures that at the very least there be some reason to engage in violence.
In it's simplest form, the fight for survival has always appealed to Grimloq. Like the burning passion of a fire, rage both fuels and inspires him. No need for justice or retribution when all one needs is an obstacle to conquer to ensure one's self-preservation. That isn't to say he is against a lawful sense of justice, rather that is another quality he attempts to 'enforce', but it is also convenient to allow more primitive desires to follow reason as well. Predator and prey relations and a system of survival of the fittest are what he primarily desires to see simulated in his creations alongside affiliations to his flame. It is this primordial rage that Grimloq commands in his portfolio. The savage nature of an enraged monster or berserking warrior are what he inspires. Whether that rage is fueled by emotion, or survival, does not matter to him as much as it's effect.
Grimloq is a god of few words(Which is perhaps a good thing given his monstrous voice.) and little wants. He upholds himself with great pride as a warrior first and a creator second. He looks down upon the other gods, yet his distinct preference for isolation rarely lets that animosity show. This animosity is defaulted by his prideful nature, viewing himself superior to others of his kin, yet in secret he does seek their respect and acknowledgement.
Often will Grimloq take sport in manifesting himself for battle against his own creations, or rewarding those that prove their strength either through challenging him or through spectating of a battle presented to his honor. There are times when Grimloq himself will manifest simply to experience the life of his creations. To hunt, to eat, to rule. He occasionally engages in the way of life his living creations make for themselves, be it wild beast or peaceful tribe, like a father desperate to connect with a son. He is often inspired by mortals, particularly fond of brave and powerful individuals whether or not they are a part of his creation or from another God.
In dealing with others he most often shows few emotions, but he is certainly quick to anger, and once he has made his mind on something; such as viewing another god as an enemy, or seeing through a strategy, he will rarely ever deviate from that path. His passion for battle and blood lust certainly shows in a heated battle, for he takes honor in his berserk-like tendencies, and appreciates foes that do the same. To him.
Gᴏᴀʟs
Beyond his simple desires of warrior, his pride also comes from his creations, which he strives to 'create in his likeness', creatures that will bear a reptilian with his heritage of his own cold-blood and fire, or ancient weapons that would be created by his forge. In short, to simply observe his own creations evolve and perhaps, impress his other kin, with the power his creations will possess or the 'beauty' they will have is more rewarding to him then winning a spar or smiting a foe.
Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ
Grimloq bears the tall and imposing body of a lizard-like humanoid. He is clad in heavy, plated blue scales as a form of natural armor. Crocodilian eyes pierce from his saurian head like dim candle flames. The crest atop his head is adorned with sharp spines. Bearing a muscular build he is armed with sharp claws and a barbed tail. He is often found wearing few clothing aside from pieces of golden armaments and other small equipment to suit a warrior's appeal. This form represents the lawful and honorable warrior of his duality, dubbed the creator.
When indulging in the other perspective of the duality in his domain, dubbed 'the destroyer', Grimloq manifests as a great dragon to represent the destructive power of fire.
Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ
(Work in progress.)
To Grimloq, the Dragons are his most divine and powerful creations, and represent the full might of his power. Powerful reptiles, Dragons are clad in tough scales with bodies that tolerates even the most extremes of heat without melting or even recieving minor burns. Representing fire itself; Dragon's have an indefinite heat resistance, but few can tolerate low, freezing temperatures. Dragons have an indefinite lifespan, virtually immortal unless killed in battle. The older the dragon, the larger and stronger it is. Though they have slow growth rates that decrease as they age, they never truly have a growth limit. The oldest of dragons may grow to titanic porportions. Likewise, they're armored scales, be it plated or keeled, become harder with age. The average dragon's natural armor can be comparable with stone, but as they grow, that durability increases; From copper, to iron, steel, the eldest even surpassing the hardest of metals. Typically they're underbellies are less durable by comparison, and thus are essential weak points. Most dragons breath fire as attributed to that which they represent, but some may have unique breath weapons or other elemental affinities with fire. Though such cases are incredibly rare.
Most dragons are feral beasts, save for some exceptions, they cannot speak nor behave much outside of a feral angry animal. Due to their great power and slow growth rate, dragons are mostly rare creatures even on their native island. Most are very territorial, and many often have lengthy periods of dormancy that can last for centuries.
Dragons can be divided into different classes based on their overall form, however individual dragons even among the same species can vary greatly in appearance. Classes typically attribute to their overall design.
In general all forms of dragons mostly resemble some form of lizard or snake, or other reptiles outside from their key body designs. However some may also possess bird-like qualities as well, such as feathers or beaks, or bird-like talons. The blood of dragons is often toxic, and can be mildly corrosive. Most may have a forked tongue that can pinpoint scents, many have great eyes that can gleam through darkness with a firey light, and may even have a pit-viper like vision of being able to detect heat.
Dragons are known to have regenerative properties. Over long periods of time they can even heal from great wounds and even regrow missing limbs with enough time. Though they cannot regenerative or heal instantly, or within a short amount of time.
Dragons may possess multiple heads, and are sometimes dubbed hydras. Some hydra mutations of dragons may have faster regeneration then the typical dragon. The heads of a hydra may operate independently or in unison, depending upon the individual.
Hellkites are the original body plan for dragons. Lizard-like, with long necks, six or eight limbs (Four feet with 1 or 2 pairs of wings), and a robust long tail. They are the most dangerous class of dragons, fast, powerful, and well armored. More importantly, Hellkites have the potential to develop comprehensible sapience and even attain great wisdom if they are very ancient. Such intelligent individuals can communicate through telepathy.
The instincts of a hellkite are often fueled by the sinful anger of Tiamut. They are often, by their nature, inhabit violent rage and greed. Feral dragons have been known to be drawn to gold and other valuables, often storing them. Not all hellkites partake in this instinct, but it isn't uncommon either. Outside from accumulating treasure hoards, they also take pleasure in destruction. Whether it be burning down a village, or ruining a forest, once they awaken they will often seek violence for the sake of pure destruction.
Not all hellkites are feral or possess a malice alignment, but those exceptions are certainly a rarity.
Wyverns are feral dragons that have 4 limbs. Often bipedal with two legs and a pair of wings, they usually have long slender necks and a steamlined body. They are often smaller and not as strong or durable as other dragons, as well as being the more common of the classes relatively speaking. However, they often utilize sharply tipped tails, powerful bird-like talons, or sharp jaws to dangerous effective. Some have been known to breathe fire, but most seem to utilize variations of venomous barbs and fangs, or toxic secretions and saliva. Being the most primitive and simple minded of dragons, despite their feral nature they are not impossible to tame. Wyverns are often less territorial then other dragons, and may often roost and hunt in groups.
Drakes are similar to wyverns, except they lack wings. They often resemble giant lizards or wingless hellkites, but make no mistake in that drakes are often powerful and dangerous. They rely on sheer size and strength to hunt, and despite their size, they can be surprisingly fast on the ground. Like wyverns they are not impossible to tame.
Wyrms are by average both the largest and most destructive of the dragons, and yet they are also the most simple minded by far. Wyrms are limbless dragons, with little or no scales and instead having a tough leathery hide and very thick flesh beneath. Most wyrms live either underground or in the ocean, and only surface when they rampage once a century. Between a lengthy period of a time, usually a few centuries, they will remain dormant and in a sleep-like state, only eating whatever comes their way in a sudden ambush-like reflex. Once that time passes, they will rise from their lair and cause havoc at random. Most wyrms are either nearly or completely blind, with the exception of the smaller variations that dwell above ground. They also have poor smell and hearing, and instead rely on either vibrations in the earth or sonar in the water to sense their surroundings and potential prey. Since Wyrms are so large and hard to kill, and too dumb to be controlled, when they awaken they are often treated more so as natural disasters then mere creatures.
the lizardmen that will come eventually won’t be smart enough to be that tactical for the most part, so it’s unlikely you’ll see anything of that scale unfortunately. But hey, they might evolve past that
Well, I am sure a dragon like Tiamet will be defeated once, right after she is created, and never cause any trouble ever again.