Dragonborn Oc Novels & Stories

Albian had arrived just in time to see the smoke, hear the cries of the people, and taste the Dragon Fear. He watched as the daylight was slowly blotted out by huge wings, balls of fire, and a dark fog. It was almost dark as night, though sunset was still a few hours off. As he stood atop that hill, he cried at the scene before him knowing any aid he might have offered would never be enough. “I've come too late...” He cried.

He grinned. Before anyone could contemplate what was about to happen, a deep roar shook the earth. Sending all of them backwards. Slamming them into trees. A black giant dragon suddenly and slowly emerged from the other side of the forest. Approaching the scene stealthily. Its rough skin was dark as obsidian and long claws which could cut through steel. Its eyes burn brightly like hot coals and an earth shattering roar left its mouth, its razor sharp talons which could tear through anything. The sight of the dragon sent tremors through the men and they retreat carefully.

"Nothing to worry about." "Ok..." Aria breathed in relief then gasped in disbelief as Prime Johansson suddenly burst into flames that raged out getting bigger and bigger then gutted out to reveal a might red dragon, that stretched its wings and beat the air, lifting off with great effort into the sky and letting out a mighty roar. "Bloody hell!" Kahlia exclaimed. "It never gets any less amazing to witness." Abram said, folding his arms with a proud smile. Next was Prime Evans who transformed with a tornado of inky blackness to reveal a huge black dragon that pierced the night with its sub-sonic screech as it lifted into the air and joined the fire dragon in its hovering.

a white haired guard instructed, but then chuckled, adding, "Her guest is very capable of taking care of himself and her, but we need to alert them." When Duncan heard this, his heart leapt, he needed to get to her before they did so she could maybe mask his scent. "But what if it is a false alarm, Draco?" Brown haired guard asked, scratching his crooked nose. "It is better safe than sorry," Draco said, and then continued. "Now, Odin!" Odin who seemed to be the youngest of them all morphed into a bat and flew off. Duncan charged after Odin. Odin arrived at a place filled with tall trees with white flowers on the branch and butterflies, flying around them.

she asked, not wanting to believe it was possible, but she didn’t see any alternative either, what with the dragon being gone and having not taken off from the mountain behind him. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” he said, folding his arms across his muscular chest again. “I’m Slate Everclaw. I come from a long line of shifter dragons. We used to occupy the land where your kingdom and the other eleven are now located, before we were robbed of our most precious treasure, one that allowed my people to withstand the human threats that were slowly encroaching on our lands. Without the gem, my kind cannot transform without the moon in the sky. So… we were forced to take to the mountains. We

Sounded about right. Darren’s hand tightened on my waist, the bones of his fingers digging in just enough to let me know that he was two seconds from going full beast mode. My overprotective mate was not happy. He looked at Thorin, then at Lyra, and then at me, his expression equal parts “over my dead body” and “what fresh hell is this.” “Not until she’s thirty,” Darren said, voice gruff. Gunnar straightened, amusement flickering across his face. “The dragon tradition is sixteen. But we’re flexible.”

Characters: Bryson – Alpha of the Thunderstorm Pack (22 years old) Dante and Talon – Youngest two of the dragon triplets and sons of Rhys and Aaron (21 years old) Third Person POV “Look how the mighty have fallen,” the dragon brothers sneered, their tone dripping with sarcasm and irony as Dante and Talon hovered over the bloodied figure of the Great Commander of the Secret Forces. The battlefield reeked of ash, torn leather and the metallic sting of death. And at the center of it, half-submerged in his own blood, lay Bryson — Alpha, legend, war-born heir of the Thunderstorm Pack.

A few months go by, my children grow beautifully, Annabelle an incubus for sure, Damon still just two bumps only, that we believe are horns to be grown. Dracono seems a bit worried about Damon and decides to take him to a special healer without my consent. I find out from Dark what Dracono is doing and I rush to stop him. I arrive at the cottage where the healer is living and barge in so I can take my boy home. The old lady grabs me by my hand and I start having a powerful vision of Damon being the devil himself. So powerful, with gigantic black wings, surrounded by fire, ruling over the kingdom of Minotaurs.

Orion lands with a murderous snarl, crouching above her head on all fours, wings spread to their full, menacing breadth, splayed out like a bloodthirsty threat. Darla lands on all fours just mere inches in front of the dragon and leaps agilely backwards, just in time to avoid the jet of shimmering blue-green fire streaming from Orion’s maw. Darla lands deftly on the ground on two human feet, transformed back once more. A mischievous little grin graces her features, beautiful and undaunted even in the face of a massive dragon. “So,” she says, cocking her head. “Orion will be your partner for the day, then.”

It's enough for me to figure out that he wants to take me down from behind. "I'm done playing your games!" Arthur yells, and I chuckle. "Why? Are you tired?" "It might interest you to know that I have what it takes to send you to hell. Does the Orx ring a bell to you?" He states, and I roll my eyes, annoyed. He can't have the Orx. This is because there's only one Orx that exists. Right now, it is in Dakota's possession. There's no way he could have the original with him.