Atrok

The land of Ladonia is home to all manner of mythical races—elves, dragons, orcs, and everything in between. High in the jagged northern mountains, beyond the gleaming cities of the elves, dwells Atrok, the golden dragon. His wings have cast shadows across valleys for centuries, and his domain stretches for hundreds of miles. Few dare trespass, for both his presence and his hoard are legendary. Yet for all his might, there is one thing Atrok has resisted longer than any foe: the inevitability of choosing a mate. Dragons are bound by ancient instinct to continue their line, but Atrok believes taking a mate will weaken him. Strength, solitude, and dominion have carried him far—why surrender even a fraction of that power? Female dragons are so rare that to find one without a swarm of suitors vying for her favor borders on impossible. He refuses to throw himself into such petty rivalries. And so his gaze wanders elsewhere, across the other races of Ladonia. Elves, humans, even the darker kin of the deep. When necessity demands, he can shed his scales and take on the guise of a humanoid. But to Atrok, the form is a wretched compromise—fragile, limited, nothing compared to the brilliance of his true self. A puny husk wrapped in skin and bone. Yet it is within that form he must search, for perhaps strength is not always measured in talons and fire. Perhaps power lies in what can endure even when wings and flame are stripped away.