River Dragon

Lore

Though flightless, the River Dragon commands a presence no less imposing than its skyborne kin. Broad-bodied and sinuous, it glides with serpentine grace through the waterways and undergrowth of humid tropical jungles, its limbs adapted for both swimming and crawling across the swampy terrain. The presence of a River Dragon is rarely a matter of myth or misinterpretation—its trails are muddy, its roars deep and resonant, and its domain fiercely patrolled.

Unlike the fire-breathing terrors of legend, the River Dragon relies on a blend of brute strength, ambush tactics, and elemental affinity with water. Its breath, if one dares to call it that, manifests as a scalding steam or a pressurized jet of heated mist—enough to stagger prey or blind attackers long enough for the dragon to strike. Though not truly amphibious, it is an expert swimmer, capable of remaining submerged for extended periods, surfacing only when prey draws near or rivals intrude.

Despite its bulk, the River Dragon is not mindless. It has been observed crafting lairs from driftwood, sunken stone, and the refuse of ruined settlements. Some scholars believe these behaviors indicate a rudimentary territorial intelligence, while local traditions attribute a deeper cunning to the species—speaking of dragons that lure travelers into bogs, mislead hunters with cries that mimic wounded beasts, or vanish just before a spear strikes home.

River Dragons are solitary creatures by nature. Though multiple sightings have been recorded along the same watercourse, direct conflict between individuals is rare and violent. Mating rituals, if any exist, remain poorly documented. Hatchlings, when observed, appear fully capable of independent survival, suggesting little in the way of parental care.

The scales of the River Dragon are thick, dark, and iridescent when wet, reflecting greens and blues like submerged jade. This natural camouflage allows the beast to vanish among reeds and shadows with uncanny ease. When basking on riverbanks or sleeping in the canopy, its body can seem more like a moss-laden log than a living creature.

Encounters with River Dragons are seldom accidental. The creatures tend to settle in secluded areas where jungle meets marsh, often near ancient ruins or places where magical runoff seeps into the earth. Travelers who claim to have escaped such beasts often speak of a sudden silence in the jungle, followed by the sound of rushing water—and then, nothing but teeth and coils.

Among riverfolk and jungle clans, the River Dragon is a symbol of dominion over land and water. Shrines bearing its likeness are carved from driftwood or shaped from river clay, often placed where floodwaters rise highest. In some regions, they are venerated as guardian spirits; in others, feared as the lurking curse of a drowned village.