Called The One-Horned-Flame-King by dragons, old one horn by humans. A particularly large beast of the dragon kin who is well known for his temper, pride, and violent rampages.

0 · 360 views · located in Volundr

a character in “Dragons Among Us”, as played by Wake




Species: Red
Gender: Male

Dragon Form Description: As said Drograh is of a particularly large breed of dragons, even by the standards of red dragons. Clad in crimson scales across his back and limbs and grey scales along his belly is a powerful creature rippling with muscle. Astride thick and strong legs is a creature several stories tall. Drograh take great pride of his girth even if he doesn't often flaunt it, instead allowing his strength to speak for itself with every action he takes. However there are some draw backs to having his bulk, namely the emphasis on strength cost him a bit of maneuverability when in flight.

Beyond that are the scars. His body is riddled with them. Everything from axes and spears, to gunshot, and even the fangs and claws of other dragons have all left there mark on him. None, however, are more prominent then the stump on the crown of his head where his left horn should be.

Personality: Drograh is well known for his temper and fierce rage. Proud, stubborn, and quick to fight he is a warrior in spirit as well as body. Drograh believes that Dragons are strong because they must be in order to survive. The supremacy of dragons is what has allowed their kind to thrive through the ages, and If anything should threaten that supremacy then it would threaten their very existence. For this reason Drograh has an extreme hatred towards humanoids and any others of there like, going out of his way to hunt them down. While other dragons see such creatures as prey or curiosities, Drograh sees enemies that need to be destroyed.

His hate for the bipedal races is so fierce that it even can extend towards other dragons that have bonded with them. This particular dragons in particular are sore spot for The One-Horned-Flame-King, as they represent what he sees as the heart of corruption and decadence that has laid low his once mighty race. To willingly submit to subservience to beings so small and weak that they barely even rate as worthy prey? Such a thing is near blasphemy in his eyes, and an affront to his beliefs of survival of the supreme. If such diseased line of thinking continues to spread through the ranks of dragon kind it will rot their race to its core and spell their final downfall and eventual extinction.

History: Drograh is old, one of the few remaining great wyrms actually, a fact that earns him as much respect as his strength and short temperament.

It also means that he remembers things from times long ago, when the nations of today either didn't exist or were in their infancy. Things forgotten by most living today. Most some of these come in the form of stories told to him by his mother when he was just a little hatching crawling over his siblings in the nest. He remembers the legends and tales she told him of how giants and dragons warred with each other at the dawn of the world as it is known today, and how the dragons triumphed in the end and became the undisputed masters of the skies. He remembers the lessons she taught him. The lessons of how strength was what defined a beings existence, as strength is what gave them the power to live and grow and prosper.

He also remembers when primitive human came into their cave one night and slew his mother while she slept. He remembers how these humans captured his brothers and sisters, stuffed them in bags and dragged them away. He remembers how he was forced to hide in the shadows, too small helpless and weak to anything but watch in horror as this all happened and hope that he wasn't discovered.

Suddenly alone in a frightening and dangerous world, the young Drograh was forced to struggle each and every day in order to survive. As a young drake he was fearful of the larger and nastier creatures, as well as the humans who's presence was a constant reminder of the night his family was taken from him. As time went on Drograh grew in size, and his fear of the world around him faded to be replaced with an underlining resentment. That resentment grew in anger which he exercised by striking down the things that once sent him fleeing. But it did not grow in hatred. Not yet, and not on it's own.

It was only when he traveled to the mountains of the south that Drograh grew to truly know the buried and seething rage deep in his heart. The drake, now a full grown adult dragon, had traveled to the land of Valsung seeking rumors of captive dragons, hoping to find a clue to his siblings whereabouts. It was there that he found something that horrified him, disgusted him even. There were captive dragons alright, but the nature of their captivity was sickening to behold, for they were being domesticated. Both in cages and chains dragons of all shapes and sizes were being treated as though they were little more than wild animals that could be breed, tamed and made into mere pets with little more than treats and and firm hands.

To see such a thing happen to his brethren drove the red dragon to unrivaled levels of madness in his rage. With a berserk ferocity few could ever claim to bare witness to and survive the maddened Drograh tore into the mountain town, ripping its walls asunder and raining fire, death and ruin upon its inhabitants. Upon completion of this act of destruction, Drograh regained enough of his senses to attempt to free the captive dragons and tried to convince them to follow him into the wild. But they would not follow, for these drakes had been born in captivity and knew no other life beyond the one they had been raised in.

Distraught and drained, Drograh left these dragons to wallow in the ruins of the stronghold he had destroyed, unwilling to further break what he saw as already broken creatures. It was then that Drograh remembered the lesson his mother had taught him as a young hatching. He had been weak when the humans came for his mother and his siblings in his youth, he watched the strength fade from the dragons of midguard and with it their numbers in that land, and he now saw the inherent weakness in these drakes born to slavery.

On that day Drograh vowed to never be weak again, nor tolerate it in any of his kind.


So begins...

Drograh's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Drograh Character Portrait: Breena Character Portrait: Reegan Gengery Character Portrait: Torven Kalieesh Character Portrait: Edward Haddock Braxton

0.00 INK

The sun rose in the eastern part of the northern mountains, still hanging below the highest rising cluster of the floating kingdom. Tuilinn had been awake before the sun, had quickly pulled back her hair out of her face, pulled on her clothes, and was out of the house before she remembered her bow and arrows. On this adventure she didn't need them, but always felt naked without.

Her feet were bare, allowing her better traction for the steep climb up the High Rocks to the nesting grounds of the Mist Dragons. Today some of the eggs would hatch, they had rested in an open hearth of their parent's foggy breath for nearly a full turning of a moon. Eager giddiness arose in her, as every new hatching day had done to her.

In the dark of the morning, she had climbed. Now, as she noted the sun rising, she lay on her belly on a rock separated from the nesting ground, a safe distance from the nervous parents. There was never a true way to know if the parents were about - at least one always was, but it was hard to tell when one or both dragons from each nest would erupt into mist that settled over the High Rocks. Tuilinn lay there all morning, watching for any sign of movement within the nests.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Drograh

0.00 INK

#, as written by Wake
The valley had a deceptive peace and tranquility to it. An untamed beauty full of trees and brush that grew wild and freely without woodsmen to cut them back, and animals of many shapes and sizes that hid amongst it's rivers and groves. It had clear water running through it's streams and a still quiet crisp air with a sweet scent to it. This gem of natural wonder that enticed many who would appreciate such things with it's sights.

And there in lied the trap.

That silence was broken that day. There was a flapping of wings as a shadow zipped over the canopies of the woods with speed and buffeting the tips of the trees by the air displaced by the shadow's owner in his hurried passage. A moment passed. Then a much, much larger shadow followed behind it, darkening the ground bellow with it's size. The wind displaced by this shadow boomed and thunder with terrible force, snapping branches and scattering the frightened animals below to all four directions with it's violent pressure.

Alvalus bayed his mount to fly faster, to terrified to look behind him at the monolith of fire and death that hounded after them with feral determination. For his part his partner, the young bronze drake Akatos, complied to the best of his ability and dwindling stamina could allow as he raced forward with elf rider in tow. They both had heard the stories, but like the impetuous and defiant youths that they were they and their friends had been been lured by the promise of excitement that the valley forbidden to them seemed to promise. Now their friends were dead. And if this beast managed to catch them they would be joining them in a unmarked grave.

Alvalus looked desperately for some escape route. In the open sky's this thing would catch them eventually, and turning to fight it had proven to be suicide when their friends had tried it. Eyes wide and frantic he searched for anything to save them. "There!" He shouted when he spotted a rock formation with a narrow passage between it. "He's to big to fit through that!"

Akatos needed no other prompting and turned hard to aim at the only see able hope for their salvation. A loud crashing followed by a deafening roar behind them signaled that the beast had also adjusted it's trajectory and was starting to gain on them once again. Alvalus shivered, closed his eyes and started pray as he tightened his grip on the saddle. Akatos meanwhile pumped his wings faster and faster, manic fear numbing him to the screaming pain in his sore limbs. Onward and onward they pushed, reaching for the door to a momentary reprieve from this mad chase as the mass of death closed ever closer toward them from behind. When they reached the last stretch the young drake folded it's wings to its size and braced. It was a tight squeeze, one that they only just barely made it to the other side.

But made it they did. Akatos unfolded his wings again to catch himself and Alvalus let out a cry of laughter as relief forced the nervous tension out of him. For the first time in minutes the rider looked behind him to where the beast that had been hunting them had been. However the second he did so the relief died in his chest, replaced with a sudden intake of breath.

The beast had decided not to bother flying around the rock formation as they hopped and simply powered through it. With an ear splitting crash the head of the great wyrm punched through the cliff side. It's massive jaw closed down on Akatos' left wing before they could react and both dragon and rider let out a scream as blood fountained from the wound. Carried by the great wyrm they plummeted to the ground. There was much thrashing, roaring and screaming as they struggled.

After a solid half minute of this horrible noise it was over. Silence had returned to the valley and it's overlord had restored it. Drograh raised his head and sneered down at the remains of his kill. Another group of cowed wretches and their weakling masters they had submitted to. Pitiable creatures. Foolish as well, for it had been a long time since someone had dared to intrude in his domain with such lackluster means of defending themselves. Truly he had done them and the world a favor by ending their sad little lives.

His business now done and his dominance over the valley reaffirmed, the red dragon ascended once more into the sky to continue his patrol of his territory before returning to his lair.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Drograh

0.00 INK

#, as written by Wake
The rush of wind and massive encroaching shadow heralded his approach. The crash and reverberating ripples on the lake heralded his landing at it's shore, and sent a flock of birds scattering into the air. No further intruders had been spotted in his domain that day. Thus the lord of the valley had decided to rest himself a while an slate his thirst.

He plunged his head into the lake waters and made small waves with his submergence. For several moments he sat there lapping up the cool crisp water, an once finished refreshing himself he arched his back, stretched the ache out of his wings, and settled down on his side for a short respite. He still had a few dozen miles of his domain to cover today.