Blood Dragon (Necropolis)

Necromancers always wanted to strengthen vampires so that it was possible to drain the blood and life force from all creatures in the land. However it is not so simple to create a very strong vampire because despite their undead powers, their bodies are merely augmented human flesh.

And so it was reasoned that it would be much easier to impart the vampire’s abilities to a more powerful essence - to a ghost dragon. A ghost dragon and some vampires were sent to the spectral vault where the long process of creating a new and terrible mutant, the blood dragon, began.

Darkness Dragon (Dungeon)

Sadly, it is often the case that childish mischief brings about tragedy. Perhaps it is adults who are to blame for this, but what difference does it make when all is said and done? The damage is done and it is often hard to tell who was wrong and who was right. So it was that once a young Black Dragon pushed another off a cliff during a playful fight and the second dragon, too young for its wings to support it, was killed in the fall.

Law and order in the dungeon are severe by outside standards, and according to the law, even the young must be answerable for their deeds. The mighty Dragon ancestors made up their minds and the decision was final: three hundred years in jail. Cruel? Perhaps. But the law is the law.

At first the dragon sulked and pouted. Then he raged against those who imprisoned him. But years passed, then decades and even centuries. The young black dragon grew, and his isolation provided perspective. He also gained in strength and developed into a powerful dragon during his long, dark imprisonment. Bereft of light, and limited in his companionship to his guards, he had nothing to do but train himself within the dark confines of his cavernous prison.

Three hundred long years passed. The sentence was complete, and the dragon was finally released. As he slowly flew from his prison, all were awed by his striking appearance. His scales, which had not seen a ray of light since his imprisonment, were so dark that they actually seemed to absorb and transform light into shadows. All those close to him were cloaked in darkness, and none could see any farther than their own hand. The dragon's eyes, in contrast, were able to see everything with no difficulty at all.

Soon, another byproduct of the dragon's sentence became evident, for when he attacked an enemy, the target was lost in the darkness, while the dragon could freely return to his original position without having to suffer retaliation. His reputation and power grew within warlock society, and soon he was the most revered dragon within the realm. In time, the dragon fathered others like him, though his offspring, blessed with the same traits as he and known as darkness dragons, were always far less common than the traditional red and black dragon varieties.

Ghost Behemoth (Stronghold)

 In the early days of the barbarian world, death was but another journey to the halls of the afterworld where all who have gone before gather to feast and pay tribute to the first fathers; second only to reverence for those who have gone before is the acquisition and use of Power. So it is no surprise that the first ancient behemoth, a being of tremendous strength, enjoyed absolute authority. Barbarians from all across the barbarian empire would travel on pilgrimages to gaze upon its magnificence. The glory of the behemoth was known throughout the barbarian lands, and it was famed for its valor.

The behemoth's rule lasted for centuries and not a single war march, not a single military solution, was possible without its approval. For long years, life was good for the Barbarian people, and they offered up prayers of thanks to their forefathers for sending them such a mighty protector. They became wealthy and gathered tribute from nearby kingdoms. The art of war prospered.

But nothing is eternal even in the barbarian world. The time came for the behemoth to leave its mortal existence and go into the halls of the forefathers. The ceremony proceeded according to ancient laws and everyone honored the Great Barbarian Hero who no longer walked among them.

With its passing, the barbarians tried to carry on as before, but with the behemoth gone, there was soon trouble. War marches failed. Vassals started murmuring. And strife grew among the clans. Brothers turned on each other, and sons challenged their fathers in defiance of law and tradition. All seemed to be going wrong...

So what to do now? Should the Barbarian people vanish after all? Never! The Council of Elders gathered and called out to their forefathers for help: "Return us our Great Defender! Return us our Hero to lead us once more to glory!" Would their plea be heeded? No one knew, either the forefathers would heed their entreaty or not--nobody could guess, only pray.

To their amazement and joy, the spirit of the mighty creature soon appeared in the Stronghold, and free of its living flesh, the power of it was far more terrible than ever before. The incredible news of its return spread rapidly through all barbarian lands and the people took heart with their powerful new leader--the ghost behemoth! Ancient behemoths also returned to the lands--mighty warriors to aid the ghost behemoth as the barbarians sought to once again return their lands to the traditions and paths of their forefathers.

Hell Hydra (Fortress)

It once chanced to happen that in a bog a rust dragon got itself stuck. It creaked and rasped and finally rusted. It stood as a monument in the middle of the bog for many years.

But one day, finally, this piece of rusty iron attracted hydras, and they decided to put it in their pond. Moving the old rusty dragon wasn't easy, and just as the hydras were about to settle it into their pond, the dragon's rusted skeleton began to fall apart. From within the rusty old dragon's ribcage they found its source of acid--the acid had mixed with the gassy swamp water over the years and had changed and become quite unstable. Without warning, it suddenly exploded, covering the hydras from snout to claw! But the hydras were not harmed, for it appeared that this new acid-swamp mixture was not dangerous to them at all. In fact, they liked it so much that they eagerly drank their fill. Oh the hydras had fun for days! They spat each other with acid and frolicked in the pond, unaware of how they were changing, transforming, mutating. Their hides took on a red acid shade and they gained new powers of regeneration. For the hydras this was like the water of life, and now they felt invincible!

Sacred Phoenix (Conflux)

 The Fountain of Youth. A dream that has driven many to the point of obsession--eternal life, eternal youth. A dream--and yet one that persists through time and across cultures. Is it real? Most likely not, yet the legends persists. So, who knows? Anything is possible, right?

Certainly one man believes. Listen and judge for yourself the story of the Astral Wizard, an ardent collector of "sparkly bits" and now a prophet for the existence of the fountain of youth. In Mr. Wizard's own words, he was wandering in a distant, arid land searching for "some really nice red and blue sparkly bits" as a young man when he encountered the following:

"I saw a vision of palm trees ahead of me, an oasis in the glaring desert that surrounded me, and I thought, 'Well, there surely aren't any shiny baubles out here in all this sand. And I'm really thirsty.' I halfway expected it to vanish, a mirage like the transient nature of light refracting off a well-cut sparkly gem, but the palms were real, as was the crystal clear spring bubbling in the middle of the oasis. Trying not to trip over my robes, and hopeful that I'd be able to rinse some of the sand out of my hat, I knelt before the bubbling pool. As I reached out to the very nicely sparkling water, a strange thing happened---a huge bird, larger than a thunderbird or even a phoenix, rose up before me, feathers ringed in flames. The creature spoke in a thunderous voice. 'Mortal, you have found the fabled Fountain of Youth, a sacred spring forbidden to all but the most holy. I, the Sacred Phoenix, guard the waters of this holy place and only by defeating me can you drink of it. Be warned, for I am blessed with the speed of the thunder god's lightning, I burn with fires of the earth god's molten subterranean lakes, and I have drunk from the Fountain myself and am thus blessed with life even in defeat. Do you wish to face me?'

"Slightly taken aback, I quickly recovered my normal aplomb. 'Face you?' I said, 'Not a chance, but what say we swap? Err… uhm… how about this pretty blue rock I found yesterday in exchange for a sip?' The sacred phoenix immediately pounced on the rock, cooing to itself, 'Pretty, pretty, oh so sparkly' and I proceeded to take a deep drink from the water. Quite refreshing, I must say."

Truth? Fiction? Who can say? Certainly that loveable old coot, Astral Wizard, has been around for what seems like forever. Either way, should you ever have to face the sacred phoenix and you DON'T have a pretty blue sparkly bit, you should be prepared for one heck of a tough fight. Sacred phoenixes are rare, but deadly--incredibly fast, they have strong attacks, defend well, and deal a lot of damage. Much tougher than traditional phoenixes, their flames also burn hotter, causing fire damage to hand-to-hand attackers. It is rumored that their association with the Fountain of Youth means that they will always regenerate once after being "killed".