LibriumArcana.Games

"ENEMY IN SIGHT! 10 o'clock High! Full Jerry squadron in standard formation. Make it four hundred feet!"

The lookout's cry brought every man to attention, as men leaned and turned to try and get a glimpse of their foe. Sweeping the sky ahead, starboard, and above them with his binoculars, Captain Mitchell quickly spotted his quarry. Eight Germans, flying above their height, moving in fast in a delta wing formation that left the largest and heaviest ones in the center, the tip of a terrible spear aimed right down their throats.

"They've spotted us sir," said the first officer. Captain Mitchell didn't even turn to face the exasperated officer. "Why the hell didn't radar make the intercept?"

"RCH Dover station's offline again." replied Mitchell with equanimity. "Jerries bombed the transmitter last night. Gave them a sixty mile hole to come through." There was no time for further explanation or bemoaning of their fate. The Germans would be in range in moments.

"Gunners to your stations!" bellowed the captain, and there was a bustling of carabineers being hooked and unhooked as the machine gunners moved rapidly towards their assigned combat positions. The belly and topgunners were already in place of course, their plastic canopies swiveling back and forth as they checked the ball bearings in the harness. Midwingmen moved to the sides, locking their own harnesses to the main superstructure from the back, leaving their arms free to operate the .303 machine guns located atop the shoulder joints. Hindmen positioned themselves on the top canopy, ready to fire the shrapnel shells that would deter anything from pursuing them from behind.

Captain Mitchell meanwhile merely slid forward towards the front, leaving his Lieutenant to finish preparations. Once he had locked himself into position at last, he bent forward and whispered. "Are you ready, old friend?"

The enormous dragon's head turned only slightly, still intent on gaining as much precious altitude as possible. Its pale yellow scales flexed and slid momentarily as the massive muscles beneath worked themselves. "Ready as always, Charles," said the dragon, a low rumble which passed for a whisper as far as a twenty-ton dragon was concerned.

There was no time for further reassurances, as one of the midwingmen shouted the final warning. "HERE THEY COME! TALLY HO!"

With a thunderous roar, all eight German dragons dove towards their targets. The massive heavyweight in the lead of the German formation, its machine grey scales betraying it as a Kampfritter-class, barreled down towards the British dragon like a meteor, jaws opened, claws extended, the razor-sharp blades attached to its talons glinting in the morning sunlight.

"BREAK TO PORT!"

Mitchell felt Laureolis pitch to the left and spin with a single thrust, throwing off all possible gunnery aim, but avoiding narrowly the claws of the diving Kampfritter. Shrapnel from the bombs the German had left in his wake filled the air, pinging off the armored chain covering most of Laureolus' body. Mitchell heard a bloodcurdling scream from behind, but did not check to see what it was; already the other Germans were among them.

"FIRE AS SHE BEARS!" screamed Lieutenant Tolliver, and the two hind gunners and top gunner opened up in response, the rattling of their machine guns nearly drowned out by the roars of angry dragons. Laureolis gave a powerful thrust with his wings and clawed for altitude as a smaller German middleweight flashed past on the right.

"After him!" cried the captain, and the dragon responded without speaking, forcing his way through the air with powerful thrusts of his wings. Another shrapnel bomb exploded twenty yards to their rear, but the Germans had no time to adjust their aim. Caught trying to regain altitude, the German was overtaken in an instant.

With a resounding bellow, Laureolis slashed at the smaller German with his foreclaws, rending the steel armor on its sides to ribbons, and tearing into the German dragon's flesh. Mitchell heard the scream of the wounded beast as he unlimbered the submachine gun on his back and let loose a magazine in the general direction of the German dragon's crew. Behind him, he heard the midwingmen blasting away with their heavier Bren guns, and the top gunner firing his twin machine gun at point blank range. The German gunners fired back with desperate fury, but the gunnery drills Captain Mitchell had been forcing on his men for the last six months told the tale. Mitchell watched as three Germans fell screaming, dangling from their carabineer straps, and the crew behind him cheered as the German topgunner's canopy was torn to shreds by concentrated fire. He could see the German captain trying to speak to his injured beast, and for a moment Mitchell thought about trying a shot at him, but the movement differential was too great.

And just like that, the pass was complete. Laureolis pushed on ahead, bearing off to starboard, leaving the German dragon to turn and stagger back for the Channel, black blood streaming from its torn side. Mitchell could see the dragon's crew desperately rappelling down to apply giant white bandages to the injury, while others poured bottles of disinfectant on the wounds. Mitchell did not spare a moment for them; there were seven more dragons to fight.

"Back around!" he called to Laureolis, try and break up the heavyweight formation. We can't let them get to London without..."

A scream was all the warning he got, as suddenly a shadow fell over them all. Mitchell had time only to look up and gasp as the dark green form of a German Aufsesher dragon dove out of the cloudbank it had been hiding in towards him. Before he could issue an order, before he could even cry out, the Aufsesher pulled up from its dive and let loose a spray of green liquid from the boney protrusions on either side of its face. Nobody needed to tell them what it was; the concentrated acid of an Aufsesher could eat through tank armor.

Without being issued an order, Laureolis winged over left and dove towards the earth like a meteor, diving to two hundred feet, one hundred feet, before unfurling his wings for a single, massive thrust to propel him forward. The dragon had read the wind properly. The acid spray mostly missed them behind and to the right, splattering down onto the ploughed earth below and sending up spirals of noxious green smoke. Several droplets however could not be evaded and splattered against the chain metal covering Laureolis' back and sides. Mitchell heard the hissing sound and smelled the acrid scent of metal being eaten at by the virulent acid of the German special weapons dragon.

"Cut loose the armor!" shouted Mitchell, as he drew a bayonet out of the holster strapped to the dragon's neck and quickly sliced through the two thick leather straps on either side of his position. The armored plates and chain mesh shook violently as the crew worked desperately to cut it free, before the acid ate through the metal and into Laureolis' hide. Within seconds, first the port side, then the starboard side of Laureolis' heavy combat armor slid off of him and pinwheeled down to the ground below, crushing parts of the wheat field below. Of more immediate and pressing concern was the fact that Captain Mitchell felt the dragon suddenly tense up beneath him, hissing in pain as his right wing suddenly beat out of turn. A single glance back revealed the cause. Green smoke was coming off of Laureolis' wing, and the sickly burnt smell of acid-seared dragonflesh was already detectable.

"Land!" called Mitchell to his dragon. "Quickly! Land now!" Laureolis said nothing, but managed to slow himself to a near stop before dropping down onto all fours. Clearly in pain, Laureolis nevertheless waited until all of the crew had unlocked their carabineers and slid off of him before he collapsed onto the ground hissing and swinging his injured wing back and forth, paying no attention to the fact that he had just crushed the belly-gunner's turret under his weight.

Mitchell wasted no time in racing around Laureolis' side to the damaged wing. Smoke still lifted from a large hole burnt straight through the richly orange membrane of the great dragon's wing. Evidently more than just a drop had landed. The hole was large enough for a man to crawl through. One of the midwingmen had already poured an alkaline solution over the gaping wound, and to Mitchell's relief, the hole was no longer expanding. As several of the crew began applying a bandage, Mitchell moved back over to the dragon's head, already laying on the ground and wincing harshly in pain as the men worked. Settling down onto the ground next to Laureolis' head, Mitchell stroked the wounded dragon gently. "It's alright," He said, "it's alright..."

Laureolis grimaced and slowly turned his head, resting it partially atop his Captain's lap. Mitchell heard the radioman calling for the airbase to dispatch a dragon-transporter to their location, and continued to whisper to Laureolis that all would be well, and that they would be on their way home soon. Overhead, the German formation was pressing on towards London, but Mitchell did not even watch them go. He remained seated; gently stroking the top of the softly-scaled head until Lt. Tolliver came over to tell him that the wound had stopped smoldering, and that Laureolis would be alright once they got him back to the base. Mitchell thanked the lieutenant, but did not move. Leaving his first officer to handle dispositions with the transport drivers once they arrived, he remained seated there in the middle of the muddy field, whispering over and over to Laureolis that he would be alright.

Nothing else was important.

The year is 1940. It is Europe's darkest hour.

Adolph Hitler, totalitarian ruler of Nazi Germany, has defeated and conquered the nations of Europe. Poland, Denmark, Norway, Belgium, Holland, and France, have all collapsed before the onslaught of the mighty German Wehrmacht. Germany stands victorious across the breadth of the continent, crushing all resistance and imposing their dictatorial order on the peoples of Europe. Only one nation, Great Britain, still stands defiant against the Nazi hordes.

Unable to transport her invincible armies across the English Channel, Germany turns to the Luftwaffe, the air arm of the German war machine, to destroy Britain's will to resist, and pave the way for Hitler's final triumph. Opposing them are the outnumbered men and women of the British Royal Air Force, who wage a desperate battle in the skies to stop the German attackers. Every day, the impossibly stretched defenders battle furiously to drive back the enemy and prevent them from destroying Britain's cities and people from above.

But it is not machines or aircraft that the Luftwaffe and the RAF send into battle over the skies of southern England. Instead the war is waged by flights of mighty dragons, bred and raised to combat, and crewed by expert captains and officers of the Royal Air Force, or the German Luftwaffe. Each day these majestic beasts take to the air and face off in bloody combat to decide the fate of Britain and democracy itself. Aided by a handful of volunteers from foreign lands, and refugees from nations already under the yoke of Nazi oppression, the desperately outnumbered British dragons and captains are the only weapon Britain has to defend itself against the seemingly limitless power of the Luftwaffe.

The battle to come will be known as the "Battle of Britain". It will become either the last gasp of a defeated nation, or the finest hour in Britain's storied history.

On Dragons:

Wild dragons have been recorded in Europe since the dawn of time, but it was the Romans who first learned to domesticate, breed, and harness dragons for use in war. While the weapons the dragons carry and the tools used by the men who ride them have changed, the basic facts regarding the care and use of dragons have not been significantly altered in two thousand years.

Dragons incubate in the shell for an extremely long time, in the case of heavyweights, as many as six years. Customarily, a captain is assigned to the dragon as soon as the egg has been laid and verified as viable. During this time, the egg is kept in a warm, preferably humid environment, in the company of egg handlers and other air force personnel. In addition to ensuring that the egg is properly cared for, the handlers are encouraged to speak at length both to the dragon and to one another in the presence of the egg, as a nearly-formed hatchling dragonet is capable of assimilating and learning languages through its shell.

Upon hatching, a dragonet tends to be the size of a large dog, regardless of breed. It is considered extremely important that the prospective captain be present for the dragon's hatching, as once the captain encourages the dragon to speak to it and accept the captain's affixing its first harness (a process generally done with much formality and pomp), the dragon and captain are considered a bonded pair, inseparable save through catastrophic occurrences. Part of the process generally involves the captain giving the dragonet a name (Latin names are traditional, but all types are acceptable). While dragonets have been known occasionally to reject their assigned captains, this tends to be rare in modern times.

The exact nature of the bond between a dragon and his or her captain is not fully understood, but its existence is unquestionable. Dragons, despite their obvious innate intelligence, will quite literally kill or die for their captain, disregarding all else, including their own safety, and the vast majority are perfectly content to obey their captain's orders in all situations and circumstances, even in the rare case when the captain has proven neglectful or incompetent. Upon the captain of course, no such physiological bond is set, but as captains are typically selected at a young age and rigorously weeded and trained for this situation, it is exceedingly rare to find a captain who does not value their dragon's health and comfort above all things. It is not unheard of for Captains or even Admirals to threaten or carry mutiny in the face of a perceived threat to their dragons from authorities above, and while this typically does not impede their military efficiency, senior commanders would be wise to bear the consequences of poorly-thought policies in mind.

Dragons hatch fully self-aware and intelligent, and capable of fluently speaking any languages they were exposed to during incubation for a long period of time. They grow at a prodigious, almost visible rate for the first year of their lives, attaining full size roughly 12 months after hatching. Carnivorous and voracious eaters, an adult dragon of heavyweight size will consume a small flock of sheep or a half-dozen cows daily, though they can make do with less if pressed to it. Harnessed dragons have never been known to eat men, though wild ones have occasionally done so.

A dragon's combat role is dependant largely determined by its size. All dragons are separated by breed into Lightweight, Middleweight, Heavyweight, and Special Weapons categories. Lightweight dragons serve as scouts, couriers, and skirmishers during combat. Middleweight dragons serve as front-line combat units, primarily engaged in fighting off other dragons and protecting the vulnerable special weapons units of a combat squadron. Heavyweight dragons are the armored fist of a dragon-squadron, using their superior size, crews, and weight to thrash smaller beasts, break up enemy squadrons, as well as for bombing runs against ground or sea targets. Special Weapons dragons, breathers of fire or spitters of acid and venom are the center of a combat squadron, in the way a carrier is the center of a naval fleet group. These dragons are mostly used for devastating ground-attacks, as well as deployed for pinpoint strikes against enemy beasts.

While specific traditions vary by country, for the most part, Aviators and Aviatrixes are selected for service to the corps at the age of approximately seven years. By age ten, those selected as potential officers are given the rank of Cadet and assigned to dragon crews to learn the skills necessary for serving with or commanding a dragon in combat. The lucky ones will eventually be assigned their own dragon to command, a distinction which is considered the greatest honor an aviator can receive. Those who do not will find themselves serving as officers aboard middleweight, special or heavyweight dragons (lightweights do not typically have a flight crew other than the captain), where they may be assigned as machine gunners, bombardiers, radiomen, or navigators. The enlisted crew of a large dragon is generally comprised of older men of lower rank but undoubted skill, who serve as the ground and air crew of a heavy combat dragon.

A dragon's natural lifespan is generally considered to be between 200 and 250 years. As all dragons, if not killed by disease or combat, will therefore outlive their original captains, the concept of draconic inheritance has arisen. Aviators, being a relatively secluded lot, tend to marry (when they marry) within the air corps, and their children are usually brought up within the organization. As a dragon whose captain has died is almost always devastated beyond all consolation, it has been found that if the dragon has someone they are familiar with, with which to share its grief (generally a child of the deceased captain), the chances of the dragon accepting them as a new captain increase dramatically. As a result, many dragons are captained by direct descendants of their original captains, with older ones having as many as eight or more captains from the same line. The transition is neither guaranteed nor easy, but no other workable solution has ever been determined. It is found to be helpful if the older captain can retire gradually, giving the dragon time to grow used to his or her new handler.

Excerpted from lecture notes at the Royal Air Force Basic Combat Tactics course, Imperial War Ministry, Spring 1937, Rear Admiral D. Park (ret.), presiding:

As the method of fighting dragon vs. dragon is a bit... odd for those unaccustomed to it, I do not expect that you people will excell in your first training go-rounds. In fact, I expect that many of you will attempt to do things that are totally unsuited for combat, if not downright impossible. I am therefore going to go over a list of what I PRESUME will be common questions or facts that bear mentioning. You are all of course encouraged to contact me with further questions. Everyone at some point thinks that they and they alone are the first to come up with a brilliant idea for how to revolutionize dragoncombat with the addition of light artillery, so let's get all that out of the way, shall we?

- As a minor example, Ostender, yes you, I couldn't help but notice you asked for a scoped Lee-Enfiend Number 4 rifle instead of our more customary submachine guns. I would be remiss if I didn't mention to you that sniper rifles are completely useless from dragonback, as you will no doubt find the first time you go up. Imagine trying to accurately aim a scoped rifle from the bed of a pickup truck driven by a epileptic drunkard at eighty miles an hour over rough, hilly terrain. Firing one from a dragon is even more difficult than that. Your 'vehicle' is not only alive and in-flight, but actively engaged in melee combat while you are attempting to take aim. This throws one off. Don't look so horrified, everyone makes that mistake.

- The above applies to all kinds of aiming. The reason dragon captains like machine guns and submachine guns is because they spray bullets into the air, increasing the likelyhood that one will hit SOMETHING on the enemy's side. Rifles and handguns will simply not hit the enemy in all but the most awe-strikingly rare occasions. Bear all of this in mind as you brag to one another on your marksmanship skills.

- Typical dragonfights take place in a series of "passes", in which a dragon (remember that most dragons cannot hover) flies past or at an enemy, strikes it (crew included) with claws and teeth and weaponry, and is past it in less than thirty seconds, only to whirl around and do so again. Obviously, this technique is more applicable to some dragons than to others.

- Another common occurance is that two dragons of roughly equal size and power (or for that matter, mismatched dragons) will get into a grapple of some sort with one another, and do their best to tear the stuffing out of their opponent. This can be likened to a wrestling match carried out in mid-air, and crewmen of either dragon who do not watch themselves can easily be crushed between the dragons or sliced in half by a claw stroke. Any man here who has his head taken off by their own dragon in the midst of one of these scrimages will have no sympathy from me. It is your responsability to keep out of the way. The most important thing here is that while dragons are ripping at one another with their claws and teeth and rolling over and over in mid-air, they are NOT flying, meaning eventually they need to break off the engagement or face a rather terminal impact into the ground.

- All things being equal however, dragons are TOUGH creatures, and it is NOT easy to kill one. Direct artillery fire will do the trick, but none of that is available to you people, I don't care what requisition orders you put in. Special weapons can do it if aimed properly and of the right manner. A large dragon can kill a smaller one outright if it hits it correctly, and enough raw damage will kill even the biggest dragon through bloodloss or a torn-open throat, but such things are rare. Most dragon-crews will pull out of a battle before their dragon is at TOO great of a risk of death, and only in the largest and most desperate of engagements is one likely to actually have multiple dragons die on either side. Skirmishes are rarely (but sometimes) fatal. The point being, I do not want people to think that they can fly in and slay four enemy dragons in one pass. A captain and dragon who has actually KILLED an enemy dragon is considered an ace. Many dragons will go their entire careers never having done so. If you encounter a captain who claims to have killed more than four dragons in his career, you may safely regard him as a liar and a cad, as the number of captains who have done so, particularly in peacetime, can be counted on one hand.

- Being as dragons are so hard to kill, one of the primary ways they are taken out of a battle is by capture. How does one 'capture' a flying dragon? Simple. One takes the captain prisonner and orders the dragon to do what the captors say. Invariably (almost) they will. It is for this reason that during a "pass", one will often send members of one's own crew leaping over onto the other dragon, armed with all manner of weaponry with the intention of killing the crew and capturing the enemy captain ALIVE. I emphesize the ALIVE aspect because a dragon whose captain is killed will instantaniously become a frenzied wild monster of destruction, which can be rather counterproductive (though effective at breaking up formations, no doubt).

- ALL dragons are bulletproof (essentially), even the smallest. Their hides protect them from anything worse than minor bruising from even sustained, close-range machine gun fire. High-velocity, high-calibre rounds (the american .50 calibre for example) can cause superficial bleeding and the like, but one is unlikely to actually meaningfully injure a dragon with such ordinance, save perhaps a lightweight. The machine guns are there to massacre the enemy dragon's crew, a vital step in boarding and capturing the enemy dragon, as well as in preventing one's own crew from being similarly massacred.

- Heavy dragons have been known to carry heavier types of weaponry. The jerries once experimented with mortars, only to find that one is more likely to hit oneself than an enemy with such a weapon from dragonback, and to drop the project. Nevertheless, one can find such things as 20mm autocannons or even 37mm Anti-tank guns mounted on the larger beasts. These CAN and WILL injure a dragon in poportion with their own power and the size of the dragon. One should simply bear these facts in mind.

- Being as this is the case, one might expect to find a Regal Copper with a 75mm in its harness, or a German Kampfritter with an 88mm AT gun, no? One does not find these things because A: They and their ammunition weigh too much, B: These things have no accuracy from the air, and C: They interfere with the dragon's ability to defend itself. You try brawling with a backpack full of rocks on, and tell me how effective it is. That artillery piece is of no use when another dragon can simply rip it off, or worse yet, beat the piss out of you while you try to compensate.

- Formation manuvers are way to complex to go into here. Suffice to say that since combat consists of "passes", one of the primary roles of a formation is to ensure that the enemy cannot make passes on the vulnerable special weapons dragons, because if they attempt to do so, an angry heavyweight will intercept and tear them right out of the air. Conversely, one of the primary goals of an attacking force is to find a way to break up an enemy formation. Once the enemy is scattered and disorganized, attacks can be directed at the appropriate target.

- Formations, as I said before, vary, but MOST formations call for each weight class of dragon to take on a specific role:

- Lightweights are skirmishers and interdictors, interfering with enemy operations and attacking dragons who have been split off or engaged by another dragon. A lightweight alone will be murdered if it goes up against a heavyweight alone (usually). Four lightweights however can surround a heavyweight and attack it from many angles at once. Lightweights break up enemy passes with flyby and harrassment attacks, deflecting them away from their targets.

- Middleweights serve as the main battle arm of most formations. On the defense, they form a protective barrier around the special weapons dragons, sallying and intercepting assailants, and blocking their paths. On the offense, Middleweights are the primary attackers, the ones whose job it is to penetrate the enemy formation and hit the special weapons dragons as hard and often as possible. They are also used to fix the enemy dragons in place, drawing them into combat, and enabling the heavyweights to make THEIR attacks.

- Heavyweights are the battleships of the air. They are unmanuverable (generally), and are thus used in a direct manner. On the defense, the Heavyweights are the inner line, the flying barricades that form solid draconic walls against middleweight attackers, as well as intercepting enemy heavies as they come in. They are usually placed just behind and above the special weapons dragons so that they can cover all of the blind spots, and move around as needed to shield them. On the offense, heavyweights are entirely lacking in subtlety. They smash through the enemy line and scatter the formation as much as they can, either making a hole for the middleweights to follow, or using the middleweights as pins to hold off enemy defenders while they go directly for the core dragons.

- Special Weapons dragons are what it's all about, in the end. On the defense, these dragons are what everyone wants to kill, and they know it. They stay in the center of the formation, and do their best to avoid melee and close-combat. When pressed to it, they stick close to the heavy dragons and use their weapons to whatever effect they can. Defense is not their strong point. On the OFFENCE however, these dragons are pure murder. They use their special abilities liberally and constantly, avoiding melee combat and raining death on the enemy once the heavies and lights have locked the defenders into position or opened a hole to the enemy specials. These dragons are the ultimate force multiplier. A Longwing or Tasmanian Venomspitter can kill a heavyweight dragon outright with one well-aimed shot (or spit , if you wish to be litteral), something that can turn the tide of an entire battle, and something which is MUCH easier if done in conjunction with the other dragons' efforts to place the enemy in a position to be shot at.

- Remember, all of the above is the THEORY. The practice can get mighty chaotic. Unorthodox tactics can work, but bear in mind the capabilities of your own dragon and those of your enemy.

- Good hunting ladies and gentlemen. I shall see you all in the air.

Common Dragon Breeds of the British Isles

Lightweights:

Winchester: Among the oldest harnessed breeds in Britain, Winchesters as trained dragons date back to the days of Roman Britannia. Found in any coloration pattern imaginable, from white to brown to purple, Winchesters are the smallest dragon in British service, but by no means the least valuable. Scarcely larger than a large cart horse, Winchesters carry none but their captain, but are noted both for their speed and their endurance, being capable of flying for more than 14 hours at a stretch. Winchesters are not considered suitable for combat, but are commonly used for scouting and courier duties, as well as dangerous reconnaissance flights into enemy territory. Even-tempered and fiercely loyal, Winchesters are typically not noted for their intelligence, as breeders have sacrificed brain-size for additional aerodynamics in many cases (though not all).

Greyling: A product of crossbreeding Winchesters with native Scottish Widowmaker breeds, the Greyling is, while scarcely larger than a Winchester, a very different proposition. Typically slate-grey with no coloration, and weighing about five tons, Greylings are ideal for camouflaged sorties and surprise ambuscades. While their small size makes them unsuited to engage in formation warfare, they are often used as independent, long-range raiders, striking remote enemy targets on long-term missions by surprise, as well as conducting vital reconnaissance. Aggressive and feisty, Greylings are notoriously picky in regards to their captains, and often do not get along well with other dragon breeds.


Middleweights:

Yellow Reaper: The backbone of all European airforces is the hard-working, intelligent, even-tempered, and omnipresent Yellow Reaper. Common throughout all of Europe and North Africa, Yellow Reapers are distinguished by yellow scales that vary from creamy to dazzling, and are striped or spotted in a variety of other colors, depending on their heritage. Weighing in at between 20 and 22 tons, and approximately fifty feet in length, Yellow Reapers are mid-weight combatants, used as dragons-of-the-line by nearly every air force in Europe. Variations exist, but the Yellow Reaper remains the most common dragon in the skies, and one which can cause terrible damage if ignored, even to the heaviest of breeds.

Malachite Reaper: A native British relative of the Yellow Reaper, the Malachite is distinguished by yellow-brown scales trimmed with pale green markings. Slightly smaller than their common cousins, Malachite Reapers are bred both for combat and for their own innate intelligence. Subdued and quiet, Malachites require the least attention of almost all breeds, being quite capable of handling complex matters and even overseeing other dragons without their captains, though they, like all dragons, remain fiercely bonded to their human partners. Malachites whose captains are lost have been known to serve independently (and unofficially) as strategic analysts or training-masters , even issuing orders to human officers and captains, a practice which would result in public uproar were word of it to ever escape.

Golden Anglewing: The brilliant Golden Anglewing is the breed most commonly used as a command-platform or admiral's flag-dragon in the Royal Air Force. Radiantly golden-colored, with occasional spots of white or orange, the Anglewing is known for its superior maneuverability and speed over short distances, enabling it to literally dance around larger and more cumbersome dragons, and double-jointed wings that enable it to turn sharper than any European breed. This makes them ideal for command dragons, as they can readily move in and out of combat, attaining over-watch positions over a battle from whence the Admiral can issue commands to his squadrons. Though capable enough in a fight, Anglewings do suffer from limited endurance, and cannot sustain the efforts needed for combat for long before tiring.


Heavyweights:

Parnassian: Originally native to Greece, the Parnassian is a transplanted breed that has flourished in Britain ever since its introduction during the crusades. Mid-way between a heavy and middle-weight dragon, the typical Parnassian is approximately thirty tons weight, and between seventy and eighty feet long. Parnassians are bred for pure offense, with oversized claws and jaws supplemented by metallic attachments that give them terrible close-combat power, though their hide is thinner than most dragons, and they themselves are injured more easily. Sardonic and cynical in temperament, Parnassians take pleasure in rough games, heavy combat, and have been known to bully smaller breeds around. Parnassian captains are advised to grow a thick skin, as their dragon will show its affection in unconventional ways. Parnassians are normally dark olive green in color.

Regal Copper: The Regal Copper is the battleship of the Royal Air Force, a cyclopean behemoth of terrifying proportions and power. Adult Regal Coppers are over 120 feet long, weigh more than fifty tons, and carry a crew of twenty-five or more. Colored red and gold, as befits their name, Regal Copper dragons are devastating weapons, capable of simply crushing smaller dragons with their weight, and sustaining injuries that would kill a middle-weight or Parnassian outright. Terrifyingly violent when called-upon, Regal Coppers are surprisingly docile and timid around other dragons, and it is not unheard of to find a Regal Copper sleeping quite peacefully at the base of a heap of lightweight dragons, unconcerned with the rest of the world. Only the most solidly recommended and competent captains are assigned a Regal Copper dragon.


Special Weapons:

Longwing: The Longwing is the product of a careful and deliberate breeding program dating back to the reign of Richard II. Slightly larger than a Yellow Reaper (sixty feet), the Longwing is striped black and white, but is named for its oversized wings. A Longwing's wingspan can be double its length from nose to tail. Awkwardly build, Longwings remain among the most valuable dragons in the RAF, due to their ability to spit a terribly potent hydroflurocarbonic acid, capable of melting through practically any substance, from battleship plate to dragonhide. Though only capable of spitting downward, Longwings can kill a dragon outright with one volley of acid, and reduce ground targets or armored formations to ruin from practically any altitude. For this reason, Longwings tend to be the center around which British squadrons are constructed. Due to a still-unexplained characteristic, Longwings will only accept female captains.

Spitfire: The Spitfire is a relatively recent breed, dating back only to the Napoleonic wars. Of mixed British and Turkish origin, the Spitfire is a small dragon, smaller even than a Yellow Reaper, but what it lacks in size it makes up for in firepower. The spitfire is a pyrogenic dragon, capable of breathing a devastating napalm-like flame in any direction with the accuracy of a hosepipe. This fiery substance sticks on contact and only burns the fiercer when subjected to water, extinguishment being capable only with the aid of asbestos, vinegars, or suffocation. As a consequence of this capacity, Spitfires are holy terrors both in ground attack and air-to-air combat terms, and are frequently singled out for attention by enemy heavyweight and middleweight dragons. As befits their fiery nature, Spitfires tend to be extremely aggressive, to the point of bloodthirstiness, unable or unwilling to distinguish between good and bad odds in combat.

Excerpted passages from "Jane's Fighting Dragons of the World", 1938 edition

Middleweight and Special Weapons dragons of Australia:

Queen Victoria's Reaper:

Australia's white population is in a large part descended from the refuse of the prisons of England. For nearly a hundred and fifty years, Australia was used as a gigantic receptical for those prisonners whose sentances precluded their release, but for whom no room in gaols could be found. In keeping with the same theme, thugh of course for different reasons, the British also found it worthwhile to transport assorted feral dragons and dragonets to the remote island, in the double hope of affording them some place to live away from civilization, and relieving the british taxpayer of the necessity of their upkeep.

Of course, when one combines British citizens and British dragons, even if both are considered feral and unfit for society, the age-old connection between man and dragon is sure to re-assert itself. Free of all restraints, breeding programs, and management, the dragons sent to australia did much as the men did, interbred and created a race simultaniously european and wholly australian. In this case, the preponderance of Greyling, Widowmaker, and Malachite dragons sent to the island continent resulted in a mixed breed that combined the fierce, wild aggressiveness of the Scotish Widowmaker with the mental agility and control of the Malachite, with a fair dash of Greyling barroom savagery thrown into the mix. Once the descendants of the convicts and colonists of Australia learned to re-tame these beasts, it was not long before they were comprising the backbone of the fledgling RAAF.

Smaller than a Yellow Reaper, but large enough to rate as a middleweight, the Queen Victoria's Reaper varies from a foggy grey to a sandy yellow, with prominent Reaper markings. Compact and powerful, like many Australian breeds, Victorians ae quick-witted, independant-minded, and in combat are completely mad, flinging themselves at dragons three times their size and weight without a second thought. Their rugged and tough bone structure, honed by a hundred years of truely wild living, makes them far more durable than their size would suggest, while their unorthodox savagery makes them valued flank-strikers or close-range boarders in a formation. That being said, Victorians tend to target-fixate in heavy combat, and can quite easily plunge themselves into a situation well beyond their own capacity to handle, not that they plan to go down without a fight.


Dreamweaver:

Mystical, otherworldly, and almost alien in nature, Dreamweaver dragons are perhaps the most venerated breed of native Australian dragon in all of the continent. Aboriginal culture resounds with tales of the wisdom, magic, and guidance that these noble beasts have provided throughout the millenia before the white men came. Aboriginal art, story, and song refers constantly to these elder dragons as the "Borna-Dipbaye", the Makers of the Dreaming, or Dreamweavers as the Australians have come to call them. By turns capricious and steadfast, beings of tender gentility and terrible wrath, Dreamweavers are the symbol and center of Aboriginal culture, and have been guardedly adopted by the RAAF as a result, the government being none too keen on the concept of a place for the indigenous peoples of Australia within the modern state.

Dreamweaver dragons are an ancient breed, thousands upon thousands of years old, whose brains are overdevelopped when compared to most other dragons, giving them a superior intellect and reasoning power. This however is somewhat negated (or enhanced, depending on your perspective) by their unique physiology. Dreamweaver dragons constantly produce within their bodies an intensely hallucinagenic chemical, similar in properties to Mesquiline, which cycles in lower or higher doses through their bloodstream at all times. Under normal circumstances, this can yield a variety of results, either complete hallucinations and fantasies, enhanced perceptivity, or philosophical reasoning of a nature un-known to most men or dragons. What's more, Dreamweavers can secrete this drug from glands in the side of their necks, which, when taken by a human or dragon, can yield similar, if far more intense results. Older Dreamweavers can even control the dosage of the chemical they are receiving to a degree, entering states of profound meditation or trances by increasing the amount produced, with results that can vary wildly and are interpretted by most aboriginal peoples (and for that matter, most Dreamweaver Captains) as communing with otherworldly spirits. In many aboriginal cultures, it is traditional for tribal elders and "dreamers" to dose themselves with the "elixir of the Dreamweaver", as a way of obtaining the wisdom and the visions of these noble and spiritual beasts.

On a more prosaic level, Dreamweaver dragons tend towards dark coloration. Indigo, violet, black, and dark brown. On the large side of middle-weight, they are highly intelligent but can be highly distracted and unstable, seeing things which do not exist, hearing voices of people who are not present, and making observations that may be startlingly prescient or completely mad, depending on the circumstances. Dreamweavers however are deeply spiritual beings, and they and their captains take their visions QUITE seriously, even if they are intelligent enough to know the medical cause. Steadfast and indominable, Dreamweavers maintain a moral and spiritual reverence about them, palpable even to one who has never met them before. As many dragon handlers and captains have remarked upon encountering Australian Dreamweaver dragons, there is just something.... inexplicably different about them, as if they were connected in some way to a world the rest of us will never know.


Tasmanian Venomspitter:

Another native Australian breed, the Tasmanian Venomspitter, despite the name, lives primarily in the most desolate regions of the Australian outback in Southern, Northern, and Western Australia. Barely the size of a Greyling or Winchester, Venomspitters are nonetheless among the most deadly dragons alive, to the point where Heavyweight dragons tend to give them a wide bearth. Like the snakes, lizards, and other animals of this oppressive region, Venomspitters are extremely toxic, able to kill a large middleweight with a single bite in mere minutes. What's more, Venomspitters can (as befitting their name) project their concentrated poison through bony protrusions on either side of their jaw, spewing the noxious green chemical all over their intended target with remarkable acuracy. The nerve toxin they use is so effective that it can kill on skin-contact if enough contact is made, and will permanently blind any creature that gets so much as a drop in its eyes.

Sandy yellow or yellowish-brown in color, Venomspitters are, one and all, idiots. Evolution has not seen fit to grant them the relatively-large brains of their fellows, as the pressure to learn has never been present for a dragon that can kill with a sneeze. In consequence, while they are prized and valued dragons in any formation, Venomspitters are almost maddeningly simple beasts, slow to learn, slow to understand, and slow to follow even simple instructions. Their temperment varies from the placid and lacadaisical, to the chipper and bubbly, to the sullen and morose, to the violent and murderous. Whatever their personality however, Venomspitters should only ever be assigned to captains with LARGE reserves of patience.


Dragonbreeds of the Canadas

Lightweight dragons:

Hudson Ridgeback: Native to the desolate shores of the Northern Canadian Coast, the Hudson Ridgeback is among the most tireless and enduring dragons known to man. Named both for Henry Hudson, who discovered the breed in 1609, and for the distinctive bony ridge running the length of their spine, Ridgebacks are stalwart, tireless, single-minded dragons, well-suited to their inhospitable homeland. Pale grey-to-brown in color, Ridgebacks posess thick blubber layers beneath their scales, enabling them to survive the bitterly cold and scarce winters of Northeastern Canada. Following a large enough feast, they can go without eating for more than a month, traversing entire continents on the energy contained within their bodies. Though they have been described as sullen, morose, and unfriendly, they are not naturally hostile to men, and their captains tend to be equally uncomprimising adventurers, trappers, and mountaineers who share their disposition.


Northwestern Bonetail: Common despite their name across Canada and the Northern United States, the Northwestern Bonetail is a wild dragon in the sense of prefered environment rather than temper. Native to the vast coniferous forests of North America, this dragon has been the stalwart companion of many Native American tribes since before the dawn of time, possibly even longer than the oldest Chinese breeds. The typical Northwestern Bonetail is small, no larger than a cart horse, but fast and agile, excelling at darting through cramped conditions such as forest canopies or rocky crevasses. Typified by their rusty red coloration, Bonetails (a term it is wise not to use in their presence) receive their name from the massive flanged growth at the end of their tails, as large as a watermelon and made of solid ridged bone. Posessing greatly enhanced tail musclature, the Northwestern can use this growth like a club or a flail, and is quite capable of striking a man or small dragon dead with one blow of their terrible drubbing impliment, though the cheerful and pleasant dragons rarely find themselves in such circumstances. Should the need arise however, the tail is far more flexible than it appears, and the typical combat pose (on the ground) for a Nortwestern is with the tail held high above the hindquarters, much in the manner of a scorpion's stinger. Despite this vicious weapon, Northwesterns are kind and gentle creatures (by the standards of dragons at least), fond of children, eager for play, and staunchly loyal companions of their captain, tribe, or partner. Even wild Northwesterns can be approached with (relative) safety, making them a welcome sight for any traveller or inhabitant of the empty Canadian wilderness.


Middleweight dragons:

Petosky Stone-Spitter: Among the diverse dragonbreeds of North America, the Petosky is perhaps among the oddest. For one, the Petosky is almost entirely vegetarian, an almost unheard of practice among dragons, usually the most carnivorous of creatures. The true uniqueness of the breed however derives from their habit of carving up and swallowing large stones to aid in the digestion of the tough plant matter which they liberally consume for most of the day, as well as to absorb certain minerals which they otherwise would not receive. Although this practice has been noted among many species of reptile (and some dragons), Petosky dragons are the only ones known to regurgitate and spit these polished stones at their enemies. While the practice may seem laughable, there is in fact nothing at all humorous about being subjected to a bombardment of such projectiles, the largest of which can be the size of a cannonball. What's more, Petosky dragons are known for their unfailing aim...

More prosaically, Petosky dragons tend towards a sandy golden color, with occasional veiny streaks of copper, argent, and chrome giving them a rather striking look. Perverse and by turns malicious and kind, Petosky dragons are independant-minded beasts of fair intelligence, exhibitting simultanious trends of profound lethargy (saving energy needed for digestion) with bursts of animated activity when called upon or insensed by some perceived wrongdoing. Truely, they are an inscruitable bunch.


Neonowejake: The workhorse of the Iriquois air forces, the Neonowejake is native to Quebec, Maine, and the Iriquois regions of Alagheny. Among the unique features of this long-heralded (and hated) breed is the strange ability to change its color based on the seasons. Though not posessed of the same chameleon-like qualities of the Incan "Iquitos Miracle" breed, the Neonowejake nevertheless slowly changes in color from a molted brown in the summer to a white with greek speckles (perfect for winter camouflage) in the winter. This occurs no matter where the dragon is physically located, and Neonowejake dragons in the tropics still undergo the same change, year after year.

Relatively common thanks to an established breeding program, the Neonowejake has served the Iriquois well in their wars with the United States, proving itself a match for the reliable American Reaper and famed Virginian Emerald breeds of their southern neighbors. Long-lived by draconic standards (some have been reported as living past their 320th year) Neonowejake dragons tend towards a certain level of aloofness, and some would say calousness towards those they are not intimately bound to. They consider themselves something of a warrior elite, and expect to be treated as such. Very few non-Iriquois dragons (and for that matter, precious few Iriquois ones) will associate willingly with a Neonowejake, the most common complaint being that the proud dragons exude some kind of palpable arrogance towards all others.


Burnished Lifeguard: The Burnished Lifeguard, native to the Michigan and Ontario penninsulas, is known to many peoples native to the region as the "spirit watcher", a majestic name for a creature whose actions are often anything but. A striking bronze in coloration, with deep swirls of varnished brown and violet over the wings and underbelly, Lifeguards are large by the standards ofa middle-weight, with broad wings capable of catching the air like a sail. The most well-known characteristic of the Burnished Lifeguard however is its unfailing (and in some cases neurotic) devotion to its captain. All dragons of course are typically devoted to their captains, but the Lifeguard, along with other breeds such as the Crimson Angel of Russia, takes their devotion to fanatical levels. Unlike their Russian counterpart however, the Lifeguard manifests its unswerving dedication to the welfare of its captain through an overbearing protectiveness that can be maddening to even the most patient captain. Lifeguards fuss over the most minor things with the intensity of a paranoiac, insisting that their captains take precaution against diseases, cold, wild animals, acts of god, huricaines, enemies real or imagined, death rays from outer space, vengeful spirits, and the Loch Ness Monster. They absolutely insist on being in the company of their captain at all times, and will panic should they be away for more than an hour or so, or late by so much as a minute.

There is however a flip side to the extreme dedication of this breed, for the lengths a Lifeguard will go to in order to safeguard or rescue their captain simply defy belief. One famous Burnished Lifeguard, having been captured during the first world war, managed independantly to escape a breeding ground in central Germany, traverse the entire German Empire, attacked and destroyed a prisoner of war camp in which its captain was being held, slaying no fewer than four German middle-weight dragons in the process, recued its captain, and managed to escape south into the allied nation of Italy before a pursuit could be organized. Similar stories have been told of Lifeguards attacking entire packs of wild heavyweight dragons without regard to their own safety, diving into arctic storms to rescue their fallen captain, or braving the most violent enemy fire in the slim hope of being able to get a wounded captain to safety. It has been said that to a Lifeguard, it is not a question of valueing their captain over themselves or others, it is a question of valueing their captain and nothing else. It is perhaps for that reason that Lifeguards have very short lifespans, for in almost all cases, when a Lifeguard's captain dies, the Lifeguard will, inconsolable with grief, fly off for un-inhabitted lands, and never be seen again.

Heavyweight Dragons:

Canadian Thunderchild: A primal force of nature, the Canadian Thunderchild is the largest dragon in North America, larger than the british Regal Copper, the German Kampfritter and Jotunmeister, the Russian Crimson Angel, or even the mighty French Grand Chevalier. More than its physical size however, the Thunderchild is famed for its wild, raging, thunderous power, a berserk maniac of a dragon driving its crew, enemies, and all passers-by straight into the abyss with it.

Enshrined in Seneca legend as the first and mightiest of the dragons created by the great sky-spirit, Thunderchild dragons are beings of profound emotion and terrible rage. They are boistrous, manic, electrifying beasts, speaking bluntly and boldly, acting impulsively and with great force, making fierce enemies and fiercer friends as they sail into war and peace with equal drive and fire. Some consider them insane, others posessed, still others think of them as Rousseau's classic noble savages.

Thunderchild Dragons are indigo-colored with great swatchs of lightning-shaped white and yellow streaks covering their back, underside, and flanks, while speckled starry yellow spots coat their wings. Only the bravest and most honored Iroquois warriors are ever assigned to captain a Canadian Thunderchild, and their exploits in war are the stuff of pure legend.


Wendigo: A nightmare given form, the Wendigo is the terror of the Arctic and the Canadas. unblemished snow white, like some kind of ghost, Wendigo dragons are the opposite mentally of their larger cousins to the south. Cruel and malevolant, Wendigo dragons are bold and cunning, playing on fear and terror to stalk their chosen victims and carry them off into the night. The subject of many a campfire or horror tale, they are an invisible force of malice in the Artcic north, preying on anything they can catch, sentient or otherwise. On exceedingly rare occasions, expeditions have recovered Wendigo eggs from their lairs hidden in the Canadian islands or Northwest Territories, and managed to thus tame a select few of these monstrous and terrible beasts.

In captivity, Wendigos lose much of their malicious evil, though they remain aloof, almost sinister presences, well suited to independant operations of the blackest kind. Unique (almost) among dragon breeds, the few Wendigos who have entered military service with any nation are used, not by the air forces, but by the special operations departments thereof for a variety of classified operations. As a result, beyond the information listed above, Wendigos remain a mystery.


Lightweight and Special Weapons breeds of the Southern United States:

Virginian Emerald: The Virginian Emerald is the national emblem of the United States, one of the most iconic and famed dragon breeds of North America. Descended from the Spanish Escudero Verte and the British Winchester, as well as assorted other cross-breedings, the Emerald is a tireless, dogged, and unflinching breed extoled in litterature and myth for its patience, gentility, and kindness. George Washington rode one of these noble beasts, as did Robert E. Lee during the civil war. Pensive, calm, and hard-working, Virginian Emeralds are suitable for any lightweight employment from scouting to light combat, though they do not excell at any one particular thing. Submissive by nature, and gentle by draconic standards, they are what some would call "the model dragon". Virginian Emeralds (as befitting their name) are a shining emerald green, usually unblemeshed with other colors.


Marais-Pecheur: A native Louisianan breed, the Marais-Pecheur looks like something out of a horror film. Elongated, jet black, and with fierce red eyes, these dragons inhabit the swamps and marshes of the Mississippi Delta and the Louisianan forests, though small numbers can be found on Cuba, Dominica, Puerto Rico, and various other Carribean islands. Silent as the grave, even when swimming or flying, Marais-Pecheurs are natrual spies, stalking prey in the swamps by hiding in mud-banks or dropping out of trees. With soft scales and porous skin, they are relatively unsuited for actual combat, but their value as reconnaisance flyers or deep-penetration scouts is beyond count. Prospective captains however should be aware that Marais-Pecheurs have a devlish streak of cunning and subterfuge to them, gleefully stealing anything that isn't nailed down, lying shamelessly when it suits them, and setting up elaborate pranks of a more or less threatening nature.


Smoke Devil: The Smoke Devil is a mountain dragon, light, agile, acrobatic, and colored a swirling, smokey grey that permits them to stay hidden within the mists and fogs of their native range in the Appalachian mountains. The counterpart tempermentally to the Virginian Emerald, Smoke Devils are rugged, independant beasts, guerillas and ambushers, who use their clawed wings to scramble up cliff faces or buildings and manuver in cramped conditions other dragons cannot enter. Not a vast amount is known about these dragons otherwise, as their independant streak makes it difficult to obtain generalities regarding them.


Xolotl: Beings of legend and mythology, the Aztec Xolotl is one of the last remnants of the ancient Aztec civilization to survive into the modern day. Annihilated by the Spanish conquistadors in 1519, the Aztecs' fledgeling dragonbreeding program was destroyed along with their empire, and their breeders slain by the soldiers of Cortez and the friars of the Inquisition. As a result, nobody is certain how the Aztecs managed to breed the fiersome Xolotl dragons, who since the end of the Aztecs had migrated into Texas, Mexico, the Southern United States, and Central America. Xolotl dragons can make use of an odd formation in their high crested heads, along with the motion of their wings, to generate a static electrical charge. This charge can then be released as a normal breath weapon in the form of a bolt of lightnin, which will be attracted to any conductive surface nearby. While the lightning takes time to generate, its devestating power has given the Xolotl a fiersome, almost monstrous reputation, which is not at all helped by their haughty, proud, arrogant natures, and their insistance on being accorded rank and priveledge as the mightiest dragons around. Approximately the size of a large middleweight dragon, Xolotls are colored with a fantastic assortment of stripes and swirls of azure blue, light green, blood red, and many other colors besides.

In this game, you will play both the captain of an RAF combat dragon, and the dragon itself. Your captain and dragon may either be British, or a volunteer or refugee from another nation. Be advided, that for all the dragon breeds I listed above, that represents only a fraction of the total that exist on Earth, and if you wish to play a non-British character or dragon, please contact me either here or on AIM (S/N: GenHavoc) and I will give you a list of dragon breeds from your country of choice in the weight class you desire.

To sign up for this game, please provide the following information:

Captain's Name:
Captain's Age:
Captain's Description (physical and personality):

Dragon's Name: (Latin names are traditional, but not required)
Dragon's Age:
Dragon's Breed:
Dragon's Description (physical and personality):

Background (both Captain and Dragon, please be as detailed as possible):

Captain's Name: Judith McClung
Captain's Age: 'bout 16 (Military thinks she's older)
Captain's Description (physical and personality): While there's tons of stories about young girls running off to war pretending to be boys, no one could mistake Judith for anything but a girl. The Appalachian mountains grow girls right: curvy in the right places, fair of face, hair a shade too blond to be red, and eyes the same mossy hazel-green as the creeks and rivers she grew up around.
No one could mistake her for a lady either. Her voice, while sweet-sounding, has an edge tempered from growing up with two older and one younger brothers. It also has the slang and twang of the mountains, making her sound uneducated and hiding her quick mind. Book-learning she may not have, but she's got good common sense, and a strong sense of Right and Wrong.
To Judith, what Hitler's been doing is just plain Wrong.


Dragon's Name: Jebediah (aka "Jeb")
Dragon's Age: 50
Dragon's Breed: Smoke Devil
Dragon's Description (physical and personality): The Appalachian Mountains have a natural beauty as the low ridges roll to the morning horizon, fading from soft green to grey to a smudgy blue that can't be told from the sky itself, striped and swirled by the pure white of the early morning mists. Smoke Devils as a whole share this beauty, and Jeb's smudgy blue-grey body calls those distant rolling ridges to mind, and swirls and whorls of white curl up his sides like mist up the cliff-faces. Jeb sports far longer claws, including specialized claws positioned on the 'wrist' of his wings, allowing him to cling to the sandstone and granite cliffs that poke out of the thickly forested mountains. His lithe body, smaller than the famed Virginia Emerald, can snake through the tall trees and grasping underbrush of his home like the mists he's patterned after. A snake with wings might be the best description: low, compact, slender, and more deadly than he appears.
Like Judith, Jebediah speaks the peculiar slang of the mountains. He is hospitable and friendly to a point, but is more than willing to put 'high-falutin' snotty know-it-alls' in their place. Above all, Jebediah will give respect where it is due, but they have to show it's deserved first.
Jebediah is a very spiritual dragon; he's been washed in the Blood of the Lamb, baptized in water, and forgiven of his sins. He sings with the church, listens to the preacher, and has nearly memorized his battered copy of the KingJames that his first captain's mother gave to him upon his baptismal. One thing Jebediah believes with all his heart -- he will meet his former captain in Heaven.

Background: (Expect this to be fleshed out more in UserFiction)
Jebediah was found as an egg by a ten year old Jack McClung right around 1900. It was a lucky find, and how Jack got him home without cracking was a story in itself. Ripening in front of the fireplace, Jeb overheard not just Jack and his siblings horsing around, but also heard nightly Jack's mother reading out of her bible and singing songs during the day. When Jeb hatched, one of the first things he did after bonding with Jack was beg 'Maw' to sing to him again.

Jack and Jeb were inseperable. Jeb went to the one-room schoolhouse with Jack, went to church on Sunday with Jack, did his share of chores about the house... in short, Jeb was treated like just another of the family; Maw and Jack had no other idea how to raise him. As Jack grew into manhood, Jeb grew and learned with him, making money with a little bit of hunting, a little bit of farming, a little shine-running, and a whole lot of hard work.

Jebediah saw all Jack's children born: Thomas, Ronald, Margaret, Janette, Judith, and Keith. Judith, however, was the child that was always underfoot. From the minute she was old enough to walk, she followed Jack and Jeb like a tiny shadow, and as she grew she did her darnest to get out of 'girls chores' and escape to wherever Jeb was sunning himself. As she grew, he helped her learn her 'Three R's', sang with her, talked with her, listened to her rambling dreams, and generally formed a better bond to her than to any of her siblings.

Then came that mid-summer day when Jack took the girls berry-picking. Judith wasn't as careful as she should have been and startled a rattler. As she froze, Jack carefully moved in to grab her out of the way. The snake missed Judith, but struck Jack square. The girl's screams called Jebediah in, and Judith (being the smallest), helped Jack onto his back for a rapid flight to the doctor in town, several miles even as Jeb flew.

The doctor couldn't stop the venom. With help, Jack was brought out onto the doctor's porch so he could say goodbye. With Judith crying and blaming herself, Jack asked Jebediah to watch over the young 12yr old. The Bond was Passed.

Europe's war was making news, even in the hills and hollers of West Virginia. Judith watched the newsreels at the town theatre, and told Jebediah all about how this Adolph Hitler was taking over other people's countries and killing and burning. So, when Judith saw the first newsreel of "Britians Fighting Dragons", and word got around that the military was looking for dragon and riders, she packed her bag and flew Jebediah the furthest she'd ever been away from home -- down the Kanawha River to The City of Charleston to volunteer.

A railcar trip to a quick bootcamp came next, then a stop at New York Harbor for a scary trip over the Atlantic (she was seasick nearly all the way), and now Judith and Jebediah had been more or less smuggled to England as part of the Lend-Lease Program.

Lord help the Brits.

Captain's Name: Nathan Reynolds

Captain's Age: 44
Captain's Description: Six-two and lean, Nathan Reynolds is a sinister presence in any squadron. His blue eyes are usually concealed behind dark glasses or flying goggles and he always wears gloves and a mask. Even his crew is uneasy around him.

He is known to have been a dragon captain in World War I and is widely rumoured to have been downed and badly burned by a German (or Turkish, depending on who is telling the story) special weapon dragon. It is known that he has spent the interwar years in the Canadian military. Rumour has it he's called upon to do various dirty jobs when he's not training new fliers or participating in squadron actions.

Reynolds is a former chain smoker and a connosiuer of hard liquour, although he's rarely drunk. He also has a morphine habit, although it is proscribed by his physician. When not chemically compromised, he has an excellent reaction time and he's in good physical shape with extensive training and experience. His injuries have compromised his health, as has his drug habit, leaving him with a weak constitution. He tends to be acerbic in conversation and does not invite personal intimacy.

As a dragon captain he is a consumate professional and has trained a sizable percentage of Canadian dragon riders. It is presumed that his excellent rapport with dragons is the reason he was chosen to be Frostfell's captain.

Reynolds is known to carry a Thompson submachine gun everywhere when in a warzone and favor placing a 20mm cannon on his dragon.

Dragon's Name: Frostfell
Dragon's Age: 18
Dragon's Breed: Wendigo
Dragon's Description: Lean, bone-white, and muscular Frostfell is a consumate ambush predator who loves to hide in cloud banks before pouncing on his prey. Frostfell can be tempermental in dealings with his crew, expecting perfection from them in all their dealings with them. He has been known to buffet or knock them down when in a bad mood. Towards the enemy, he is lightning fast (by heavyweight standards anyway) and vicious, shredding humans and striking for the throat.

Like his captain, Frostfell says little. Despite his sometimes abusive behavior towards his crew, Frostfell tolerates no harm coming to them or his captain. They are his and no one elses. Frostfell is something of a sadist, a personality trait that only comes out when Reynolds isn't around to moderate Frostfell's worst behavior.

Captain's Name: Blackthorne Tahalshia
Captain's Age: 25
Captain's Description: Five ten(Five eleven, as he says, when the sun is shining) and lean, Blackthorne Tahalshia is the latest in the line of his family to command the prized role of Bonded to the dragon Semmemnon. It is always unusual to have a dragon as a member of the family; even more unusual when the massive Malachite gestures with a single claw at the young boy and declares the bonding itself. Yet since before he hit adolescence, Blackthorne has been at least partially raised by the Malachite Reaper, and as such, is a consummate scholar of all matters dragon.

With war now at hand, Blackthorne has assembled a small crew to take the ancient Reaper into battle. Newly comissioned, it is a tightly held secret that Blackthorne, while quite capable of reciting endless facts of how to raise, care for, breed, and interact with dragons, as well as an exhaustive history of their kind, knows little of actual combat aboard one.

Blackthorne's normal armanent is a pair of cavalry sabres and a Colt Peacemaker. He holds no illusions of their ability to wound a dragon or even operate terribly well in flight. But they are close-up weapons, ideal for repelling boarders.

Dragon's Name: Semmemnon Apollonius Tiece Tahalshia(His friends call him 'Sem')
Dragon's Age: 136
Dragon's Breed: Malachite Reaper
Dragon's Description (physical and personality): Semmemnon is a consummate scholar, cultured and wise, in his own eyes. And, insofar as 'Cultured' is British high society and 'Wise' is being word-perfect on most of the great (British only) writers, this is correct. He has fought in wars before, and bears the signs of it on his hide, but his loyalty to England and his family are strong enough that he has unhesitatingly pushed to join in the war effort. Having bonded with the young patriarch-to-be of the clan, he is still instructing him on the full complexities of draconic combat, having focused so far on the proper methods of repelling boarders and close combat. When his hide is well protected against Germans leaping on, then he will move to the position of teaching him how to command.

Semmemon also has a pair of reading spectacles, custom made for his size, and has something of an opium habit when not fighting. He claims to have received great insight into the universe by reading the words of Aristotle while inhaling from a hookah. Unlike most of his claims, no one's buying this one.

Gunner: Philedelphia Tahalshia.
Age: 22

Description: Five foot and not a hair higher despite his best efforts, Phil is Blackthorne's younger brother and not terribly happy about most of these facts. Named for his parent's favorite city(And unable to get anyone to call him 'Phillip'), he's an intellectual, not a combatant, as he would say. Still, his calm nature under the most harrowing of situations have put him in the perfect position to handle the fifty-calibur version of the Vickers MMG, an older gun which Semmemnon repeatedly reassures him carries 'thrice the punch' of the more common Browning model seen on modern dragons. Phil certainly is aware it carries three times the recoil.

*snip*

All right, let's see what we have here so far:

Judith and Jebediah (Smoke Devil): It's not common to find a dragon with a penchant for the Good Book, or for any religion at all (there are one or two exceptions, such as the Hashishia of Persia, the Crimson Angel of Russia, and the Golden Brahmin of the Punjab), but there's nothing wrong with the idea. This looks fine by me.

Nathan and Frostfell (Wendigo): Bear in mind that Wendigo have a BAD reputation behind them as being cruel, sick, twisted, and even sociopathic. It's not... entirely undeserved. Your dragon could of course be the exception if you wish, but people, certain people in particular, will not be keen on having one of the White Demons of the Arctic about. Of course, as I said, the reputation is not entirely undeserved, so no doubt the Germans will feel even worse about the prospect before long. Just remember, Wendigo are LIGHT heavyweights. They cannot expect to go toe-to-toe with a Jotunmeister and come out on top without some very special tricks. Approved.

Blackthorne and Semmemnon (Malachite Reaper): I like the nobility angle. It makes a great deal of sense, particularly with light and middleweight breeds, and Malachites tend towards intellectualism. Bear in mind that I have no idea, nor am I sure I WANT to know what Opium would do to a dragon, nor have I the first clue how MUCH Opium would be required to mess up a dragon. I'd suggest Dreamweaver Mesquiline rather than Opium in any case, though both will be highly illegal, especially within the RAF.

Jack and Godfrey (Spitfire): Spitfires are fun for the whole family, but remember, Special Weapons dragons are only as good as the squadron surrounding them. If they do not support you properly, you shall kill nothing whatsoever. That's a promise :)


Overall, I have to say, what's with everyone picking Anti-social dragons? Between the Wendigo and the Greyling, it'll be a miracle if the Germans get a CHANCE to kill you. Ah well, I suppose it's your call....

Captain's Name: Jonathan Taggart, Jr (goes by Jack)
Captain's Age: 19
Captain's Description: 5'11", brown hair, brown eyes, 160 pounds soaking wet. Jack appears to be the stereotypical male pilot, reckless, brash, cocky, also believes himself to be God's gift to women, though that is largely a front he puts up to hide that fact that he is scared out of his wits. While riding, he carries an American Thompson sub machine gun and a Browning HP pistol just in case.

Dragon's Name: Godfrey
Dragon's Age: 32
Dragon's Breed: Spitfire
Dragon's Descripition: Hatched in 1908 and bonded with Jonathan Taggart Sr., Jack's father. Served in the Great War, attacking ground targets and took down two Lightwieght enemy dragons, assisted in the capture of two midweights and a heavy weight, earning Godfrey and Jonathan the title of Flying Ace. He is agressive both in the air and on the ground. Having served with Jack's father, Godfrey is higly protective of his young rider.

Background: Born in 1921, Jack Taggart grew up hearing his father's tales about the Great War and going toe to toe with Jerry dragons. He grew up in a house on RAF Station Northolt in the woods of southern England, his childhood spent playing with the other boys at RAF Northolt. As the son of a British ace and another British pilot, Jack was always expected to be a pilot. Selected at the normal age as a Cadet, Jack excelled in training, showing a natural talent. Expecting to crew on a larger dragon for a few years before getting his own, he was quite suprised when Godfrey turned up and declared that they were now bonded. The Admiralty, not wanting to upset the Spitfire, agreed. That was two years ago. After more training, Jack and Godfrey are now taking part in the defense of their home.

Richard Jürgen Niehuis.
Age: 28
Captain Description: Richard stands a bit under 2 meters tall and weighs 80 kilograms. He has blue eyes and close cut brown hair. The grandson of a German immigrant who made the trip across the pond in 1880 His father was a forester, tasked with hunting wolves and managing the logging of the forests in the Black Hills of South Dakota. He speaks english with a slight accent as a result of learning german and english from the cradle, english from his mother and father, german from his grandmother and grandfather, as well as his father.

Richard is independent, thinks well on his feet, and has an obscene level of attention to detail. he is not hasty and has what can only be called the "naturalists stare" He can watch and wait for hours in inclement weather, and can survive for a long time on his own. It makes him an excellent scout. But it also makes him a bit awkward in person. Some people might even find his demeanor, as well as his accent, infuriating.

Dragon's Name: Waldwanderer
Age: 18ish
Breed: Northwestern Bonetail.
Description: This rust red dragon stands about 2 meters at the shoulder and is around 4-4.5 meters in total length. Friendly, but rough around the edges (he can be a bit snappy, his tongue is as sharp as his teeth) the two are the perfect match. Walwanderer is a bit less contemplative and prefers action over careful consideration, and he is also a bit more socially adept able to "talk" people into understanding his "Older but smaller brother"

Background. Richard had a way with animals when he was a small child, he hated that his father had to kill wolves and other "vermin" which he saw as innocent animals simply trying to survive in a world which was a harsh mistress (his words). The boy took to the woods at a very early age and by the time he was ten spent more time there than he did in the house, at least in his free time. Not only was there school, but also chores around the house to do. Even so he managed to learn how to tie just about any knot, build shelters out of what was at hand, and find his own food. Until one day, when he was ten, the world became much more interesting. He came across a small dragon. The dragon's mother had gotten caught in a bear trap and had died from infection as her little one watched. The little dragon, about the size of a mastiff was curled in a ball by its mother's corpse and looked at the boy uncertainly, but did not attempt to flee.

Richard got down on his hands and knees and slowly reached into his pack. He pulled out a bit of elk jerky and slowly advanced, holding out the dried meat. The little dragon seemed confused, so Richard took of a piece and ate it. Then a little lightbulb turned on in the dragon's head and he reached forward and gently snapped up the meat with his razor sharp teeth. It took about a day to gain the little dragon's trust enough to get it to follow him home but once he did the two were inseparable. From that moment on, they became as brothers. Richard's family didnt really have much choice in the matter, once a dragon has decided that someone belongs to them, they reasoned, there was no arguing it. Eventually Waldwanderer learned english and german.

When Richard turned 18 he and Waldanderer went to university to study biology. Yes, both of them, though Waldwanderer not in any official capacity. Suffice to say Richard had the best study partner anyone could ever ask for. The only hitch was finding a place for both of them to live... which is an entirely different story. After that, Richard and Waldwanderer decided to work in the forest service as an ecologist and, with the Wilderness Society, change its destructive policies from within. They did survey work, population counts, and did research on the ecological impact of human activities in order to inform the lobbying efforts of the Wilderness Society in Washington.

When the war hit, Richard was mortified when the Nazi's annexed Poland. But he hoped that would be the end of it. Then Hitler conquered france, and didnt seem to stop. Richard saw it on the news reels. Adolph could not be stopped, and Waldanderer agreed. It was Waldwanderer who suggested they join the war effort. With the US not officially in the war though, that proved difficult. Still there was a Provision of the Lend Lease Act that allowed for it. So they volunteered and made their great trip across the Atlantic.

General Havoc wrote:
Nathan and Frostfell (Wendigo): Bear in mind that Wendigo have a BAD reputation behind them as being cruel, sick, twisted, and even sociopathic. It's not... entirely undeserved. Your dragon could of course be the exception if you wish, but people, certain people in particular, will not be keen on having one of the White Demons of the Arctic about. Of course, as I said, the reputation is not entirely undeserved, so no doubt the Germans will feel even worse about the prospect before long. Just remember, Wendigo are LIGHT heavyweights. They cannot expect to go toe-to-toe with a Jotunmeister and come out on top without some very special tricks. Approved.

Noted and understood. I described Frostfell as a vicious, bad tempered, attacker from ambush with a sadistic streak. I think he lives down to the Wendigo bad repuatation.

Richard and WaldWanderer: Looks good to me. It would have to be an... INTERESTING university to allow dragons on the campus, but there are some that would do so. Approved.

As per the request of some, I am hereby adding a list of dragons common to the American Great Plains. Bear in mind that many of the dragons mentioned in previous tracts are also common in such areas, and I shall not repeat them here.

Excerpted from Jane's Fighting Dragons of the World, 1938 edition:

Dragons of the Great Plains:

Middleweights:

American Reaper: The American Reaper is a dragonbreeder's nightmare brought to life. To date, eight studies have been conducted on the bloodlines of this ubiquitous american middleweight, and all have been abandoned as failures, for the American Reaper appears to be the product of four hundred years of uncontrolled interbreeding between fifty different native american and introduced dragon breeds. In essence, what is now called the American Reaper, is really the sum of all dragons. Though reviled by most professional breeders as a mongrel race, American Reapers are more than merely the sum of their parts, a fact borne out in World War One, as the American Reapers were found to be more than capable, despite their lack of selective breeding, of taking on and defeating their European counterparts with a combination of dash, intelligence, grit, and proper training. Genetics aren't everything.

Usually some form of brown, with spots or markings of yellow, grey, and other colors, American Reapers are usually quite intelligent, and often very hardy beasts, their mixed-blood makeup providing them with sound proof against the ailments that can afflict breeds with a more... restricted gene pool. Rugged and independant-minded, they tend to be a bit smart-assed, and confident in their own capacity, caring very little for what others might think of their parentage. Many American Reapers and their captains find service around the world as soldiers of fortune or volunteers, and it is consequentially conceivably possible to find an American Reaper largely anywhere in the world. For some unknown reason, American Reapers also tend to get along very well with feral dragons, a rare quality in harnessed beasts, but one that places them in high demand in so called "undevelopped" areas.


Heavyweights:

Texas Longhorn: The Texas Longhorn is the undisputed King of Dragons... at least according to them. Gregarious, wisecracking, folksy, and arrogant beyond belief, Longhorns are almost as powerful as they believe themselves to be. Certainly they are devastating opponents, equipped with long, sturdy horns used to gore an enemy, as well as a strong, hardy build that can withstand a tremendous battering. They put their attributes to good use, bludgeoning, stabbing, and beating other dragons out of the air. Unfortunately, for all their power, there ARE larger dragons than them, such as the Canadian Thunderchild, the Grand Chevalier, or the Congolese Nightmare, and even were there not, they are not capable of taking on half a dozen trained middleweights at once, a fact that never seems to occur to them until it is far too late.

Though patronizing beyond belief, Longhorns are usually fairly charming in their own way, condescending towards but understanding and protective of weaker dragons whom they consider it their jobs to safeguard, as the toughest and meanest dragons around. Some may not appreciate being addressed in such a fashion, but one cannot overstate the value of having a Longhorn as a protector. Another point in their favor is their unfailing courage, for even if they are not actually the most powerful dragons on Earth, they almost always fight as if they were, and as they ARE full-sized heavyweights, that is often enough to make the difference. Should one have the misfortune of making an ENEMY of a Longhorn however, one is advised to enquire after life insurance policies, as Longhorns take insults VERY seriously, and can become incandscent with rage should they feel themselves being slighted in a particularly onerous way. As one can imagine, this can be a most unpleasant experience for the target of such a rage.


I need time to think up more, I shall perhaps have some tomorrow.

Havoc - since I didn't see you on AIM I'll post it here.

I'm thinking about joining up, but need to know if there are any other breeds of dragon that can be found in Louisiana or surrounding parts. As much as I like the idea of a sadistic, conniving scout dragon, I don't feel like being eviscerated by a pratical joke by my partner.........

Ok, since I can't seem to find Havoc anywhere, I'm gonna post this up without the dragonbreed yet. But the dragon I wanted was basically a smaller Queen Victoria's Reaper so it's a lightweight. (I'm gonna be away from AIM most of today, so PMs are the preferred manner of speaking about this)

Captain's Name: Jake Collington
Captain's Age: 22
Captain's Description: All of Jake's previous commanders sum up the dare-devil flyboy in these terms "A damn fool psycho that gets his job done damn well." And they are not far off the mark. The young jockey is a cock-sure madman who has recieved almost as many medals of valour as he has had taken away due to brash action. The stunning 5'10" pilot has been blessed with good looks that he rarely takes care of except when he's after a 'piece of tail', one of the few times he does not refer to a dragon. Jake has lived most of his life around more dragons than people, and as such has picked up some of the Australian breeds tendencies in his own personality, and often times finds himself more comfortable around the dragons than he does his own kind, something that puts off many from both sides.

Dragon's Name: Jack Kunja (Prefers Kunja)
Dragon's Age: 26
Dragon's Breed: Queen Victoria's Reaper (smaller than usual)
Dragon's Description: Kunja, as he prefers to be called, is a reckless and intelligent dragon as much of his breed is. The smaller dragon has an obsession with pushing himself to his limits, an obsession that is well met in his captain, who is also eager to test himself. Kunja gets into trouble as often as his captain does, often times the two do not need to be riding one another to still be able to cause enough trouble to cause many older captains to pull their hair out, but the results have been hard to argue with so far.

Background: Jake is the son of Francis Collington, a successful Dragon breeder in Australia, and as such Jake has lived much of his life around dragons and is more comfortable with the long-lived beasts than he is with their human riders. When Jake was five years old he encountered a young dragon that was being trained by his father that had been named Jack Kunja.

The two hit it off very well and when Jake turned 18, the dragon was given to him by his father, with both parties being all the happier for it. Jake has had a great deal of experience flying a number of dragons of many varying species, but never has he fit as well with a dragon as he does with Kunja. Kunja, being a relatively young dragon of the Queen Victoria's Reaper breed, takes a great deal of joy in Jake's almost insane love adventure and pushes himself to the limits to see how far he and Jake can really go. As such, the two decided to take up the profession of Barnstormers where they entertained citizens across Australia, and even in England once, for three years before Jake and Jack decided to join the armed forces and push themselves further than ever before against the Nazis.

On their first mission, the pair were told to disrupt the enemy formation and decided to do so with a great zeal. The pair rocketed up high into the sky, dissappearing from view for a full ten minutes before their flight saw them again, just as the fight was about to start, screaming down at an insane velocity from the sky. The pair juked between the orderly lines of the Germans, and as fire from Jake's sub-automatic tore into pilots and the flesh of the dragons they rode on some of the younger, less experienced captains broke formation to deal with the young upstart. As a result Jake's formation was able to decimate the enemy forces and Jake was first recorded to "Dragon dive" where the young flyer jumped off of his dragon as he was passing another larger dragon, managing to break three ribs on impact, but keeping his grip. He was able to take the dragon captive. For his rash actions and heroic deeds, Jake was both punished severely and praised mightely. Since then Jake has attempted only one other "Dragon dive", where he missed entirely and would have turned into a fine red paste if not for the quick actions of Kunja.

DS: Louisiana is not a massive area, and it cannot support a huge number of proprietary dragon species other than the Marais-Pecheur. There are however other species whose territories overlap with Louisiana, among them the American Reaper, the Xolotl, and the:


Fleur-de-Nuit: The "Nightflower" is a French transplant middleweight dragon that is common both to Quebec and Louisiana as well as in its native France. A pale indigo color, Fleur-de-Nuit dragons are noted for their oversized, dialated eyes, which soak up light like a reflecting telescope, giving these dragons perfect night vision as well as something of an ethereal or other worldly look, something which isn't helped by their insistance on behaving nervously and erratically, glancing over their shoulders as though seeking for ghosts. Though their eyes provide them no disadvantage in daylight, many enemies of the French have learned that Fleur-de-Nuit dragons can easily be blinded by sudden sharp flashes of light such as fireworks or flare guns.

Mississippi Brownwater: The Brownwater is an aquatic lightweight dragon, whose heritage includes a touch of the Sea Serpent, or so it is rumored. They are a muddy brown in color, and are most commonly found in the lower Mississippi and its attendant tributaries. Brownwaters are uncommon among dragons (though by no means unique) in that they adore watersports of all kinds, swimming and diving like dolphins in the fresh waters of the Mississippi river, or anywhere else that they happen to be. I stress FRESH waters, because these dragons have porous scales that cause their skin to become highly irritated when the water in question is salty. Brownwaters are a playful, energetic lot, well suited to missions of all kinds, though keeping them focussed on-task can prove a challenge.



Charon: In terms of Aussie lightweight dragons, the Greyling and the Winchester both exist in Australia, introduced by the British colonists. There is also the:

Polynesian Sunspotted: This dragon, large for a lightweight, but still a lightweight, is native accross the South Pacific, into New Zealand and Australia. This dragon is a warm-climate beast, at home with humidity and heat, and suffers badly from chills when taken to a cold climate (such as Britain). Sunspotted dragons are brilliant orange, dotted with yellow, red, and other warm colors, and their borad, sail-like wings are excellent at catching thermal air currents. Accordingly, Sunspotted dragons have some of the longest range of any beast known to science, as well as the highest altitude ceiling outside of the Incan Empire. They tend to be laconic, quiet, almost lazy beasts, but are of course dragons, and capable of terrible rage and destruction when properly... motivated.

Kaisertrau: This dragon, despite the name, is native to the mountain highlands of New Guinea and northern Australia. Rare and shy, Kaisertraus got their name German colonists in the New Guinea and South Pacific areas, who were impressed by these dragons steadfast loyalty to the colonial officials who sought to use them. Dozens of these ellusive beasts, and their captains, volunteered to make the long and hazardous journey to Germany during WWI to fight for a master they had never seen on the other side of the earth. Small, spindly, and underweight even by lightweight standards, these dragons are noted for their relatively extreme docility towards humans, an odd trait that makes them the butt of many jokes from other beasts. Since Germany lost the war, and Australia took up their mandate over New Guinea, the Kaisertrau now serve new masters with new agendas, and do so without question or hesitation, as always.

All right... to compile and collate, we have thus far:

Lightweights:

Captain Judith McClung, on Jebediah (Smoke Devil)
Captain Richard Niehuis, on Waldwanderer (Northwestern Bonetail)
Captain Jake Collington, on Kunja (Queen Victoria's Reaper)


Middleweights:

Captain Blackthorne Tahalshia, on Semmemnon (Malachite Reaper)


Heavyweights:

Captain Nathan Reynolds, on Serenity... er... I mean... Frostfell (Wendigo)


Special Weapons:

Captain Johnathan Taggart, on Godfrey (Spitfire)

All right, as one last giant post of dragonbreeds, here is a list of the German dragons that you will face in your capacity as allied fliers. Obviously this list is not all-encompassing, as I'm not even TOUCHING Italian breeds with a ten foot pole just yet. Still, it should give you some idea of what you are all in for, while I wait for DS and any stragglers to post their characters.

Dragon breeds of Germany:

Lightweights:

Leuchtkafer: The Leuchtkafer, or "Firefly" is one of the smallest dragons in the civilized world, smaller than a Winchester or Greyling, smaller even than a Tasmanian Venomspitter, but what the Leuchtkafer lacks in size, it makes up for in precision, agility, and speed. Equipped with long, saber-like claws, Leuchtkafers have a variety of nicknames among opposing air forces who call them "gnats", "mosquitoes", or other types of annoying insects. They earn these names from their endurance, speed, and willingness to harry an enemy dragon for hours if need be, darting in and out to slash at the crew, strike at the carabiners, or stab at a vital point on the dragon itself. If caught, Leuchtkafers can be easily overcome by even the smallest combat lightweight, but if allowed their head, Leuchtkafers have been known to drive even the normally placid Regal Coppers into a frenzy of aggravated annoyance, which can lead to fatal mistakes by all concerned. Leuchtkafers have a reputation for sneakyness and ill-faith, particularly when contrasted with their renowned brethren, but no enemy captain can afford to discount their effectiveness.


Speckled Bavarian: A dragon as old as Germany itself, the purple and gray Striped Bavarian was for centuries considered too light and fragile for the rigors of dragon combat, even as a scout or lightweight. It was not until pioneering dragonbreeder Anthony Fokker was hired by the Imperial German Air Ministry to see what could be done to improve breeding outputs in German coverts that the true potential of this breed was unleashed. Through rigorous breeding with Yellow Reaper, Greyling, and even the French Petit Chevalier breeds, Fokker managed to transform this timid and reclusive beast into the world-famous Speckled Bavarian combat lightweight breed, one of the most iconic dragon breeds of the First World War. Immortalized by British and American captains as (among other things) "Fokker's Fuckers", the Speckled Bavarians served with distinction and skill all throughout the war, and today form the cornerstone of the German Lightweights.

Speckled Bavarians are of average size for lightweights, but are noted for their instinctive grasp of formation and group tactics. These dragons are expert herders, separating vulnerable larger beasts from an enemy formation before tearing into them from all directions like a school of predatory sharks. They are courageous but not foolhardy, skillful but not arrogant, fierce fighters and loyal friends, and it is often thought that they, and they alone were the reason why Germany's Air corps was able to hold their own for as long as they did. Even-tempered, magnanimous, honorable, courteous, and brave, Speckled Bavarians are admired even by their enemies, and one of the most famous images from the First World War is the photograph taken of two British heavyweight dragons gently and almost reverently assisting the battered form of "Albatros", one of the most famous Speckled Bavarians in the world, and his equally famous captain, Manfred von Richthofen, known as the Red Baron, as both departed for captivity after being brought down in an epic battle over southern Flanders with an entire British squadron. No matter the fight, no matter the war, Speckled Bavarians can be counted on to always give their all in the service of their nation, even as their dispositions can be counted on to always assure them a warm welcome in any air force, even an enemy one.


Middleweights:

Prussian Bluejacket: The backbone of the German Air Force since the early 19th century, Prussian Bluejackets are the unquestioned dragons-of-the-line in the German Luftwaffe. Sky blue on their backs and forelegs, darkening to indigo in the hindquarters, Bluejackets are solid, dependable dragons of power and strength, capable of holding their own against any contemporary. Disciplined, dedicated, and well-led, Bluejackets do have a tendency to react slowly to unfamiliar circumstances, and have difficulty adjusting when their plans do not pan out the way that they were expected to. Do not mistake this hesitation for cowardice or stupidity however, as Prussian Bluejackets will fight to the death in the service of their captains, and can easily overwhelm even an unprepared heavyweight.

As dragons go, Bluejackets are considered stodgy, stuck up, arrogant beasts, filled with their own self-importance (some would say typically German traits). They tend to underestimate the enemy's capacity, particularly mixed breed or lightweight dragons, a failing which has been used against them successfully in the past. Of course Dragons vary as much as people, so the above should not be assumed for every Bluejacket, but it is something a prospective foe should bear in mind.


Swabian Lightning Bolt: Lightning Bolts befit their name in more than just their jaggedly striped coloration. Hailing from southern Germany, particularly around Swabia, the Lightning Bolt is one of the fastest dragons in Europe in a straightaway, their broad, rigid wings enabling them to propel themselves through the air with unmatched speed. Blessed with a re-enforced head, neck, forequarters, and chest bone structure, Swabians see nothing wrong with simply ramming their opponents at top speed, goring with their horns and slashing with their claws and then escaping faster than the enemy can catch them, more often than not, leaving a badly injured dragon in their wake. Though they are extremely fast, this speed comes at a price, as the Lightning Bolt's wings are not strong enough to maneuver effectively at speed, and if forced into a close quarters engagement, they can be overwhelmed without too much difficulty. Lightning Bolt captains tend to be daredevils, goading their beasts on to ever more ridiculous attacks as they slash in and out of a squadron. It should come as no surprise that Lightning Bolts have a short life expectancy. It should equally come as no surprise that their opponents tend to have the same.

Lightning Bolts are hyperactive to the point of mania. They speak and think at a mile-a-minute, barraging their captain with questions and random thoughts in run-on-sentences that can leave one's head spinning. They love rough-and-tumble physical games, races, anything that lets them burn off the enormous amounts of energy coursing through them at all times. Some can be quite charming, others maddening, still others simply mad, but all of them can eventually make one wish for the relative calm of an enraged Parnassian or Greyling. Needless to say, though their exploits in the hands of expert captains are the stuff of legend, Lightning Bolts are the absolute nightmare of Luftwaffe propaganda teams, as the damn things simply will not shut up... ever.


Stuka: Almost nothing is known about this most top-secret of German breeds. Indeed their very existence was not known of as a fact until the Nazi attack on Poland. What little is known about the Stuka comes from a variety of sources, none of them particularly reputable. Stukas are large middleweight dragons, dark blue or black in color, a product presumably of the Nazi breeding programs. Relatively small in numbers, they are reserved solely for the use of the Waffen-SS, and indeed there are persistent rumors that the dragons themselves are inducted into the Nazi secret society upon attaining combat status in some kind of bizzare neo-pagan rite. What IS known is that the Stukas are among the most terrifying, fanatical, ruthless dragons known to man. They are fearless, cruel, sadistic creatures, who have been seen to not merely kill enemy dragons in combat, but literally rip them to pieces while still living. They have absolute contempt for all "unterdraken", the "inferior" dragon breeds whose racial makeup is not considered as "pure" as their own. They believe firmly in a host of Nazi mythologies and pseudo-sciences proclaiming them to be the "Uberdraken" companions to the Aryan "Ubermensch" that it is the goal of Nazism to produce as rulers of the world. What their personalities and behaviors are like is unknown beyond this, as all materials relating to these elite Nazi Praetorian Guards are among the most carefully guarded secrets in all of Germany.


Heavyweights:

Kampfritter: The "Warknight" is the most famous and terrifying product of Nazi Germany's crash dragonbreeding program of the 1930s. Barred from possessing heavyweight dragons by the provisions of the Versailles treaty, the Weimar government, and later Hitler, bred these dragons in secret, re-arming themselves in preparation for the next great European war. Fortunately for the enemies of Germany, the effects of this haste are readily apparent, as Kampfritters are known for being simpleminded, almost stupid beasts. Unfortunately, this does not prevent them from being the most terrifying force in the air in most cases.

Kampfritters are nightmarish monsters, as large as a full-grown Regal Copper, and twice as mean. They are sullen, cruel, stupid, thuggish beasts, bullying and snapping at their fellows, crashing straight into and through enemy formations and bearing them down with overwhelming mass and force. They carry an unusually large crew, even for dragons of their size, as the mental shortcomings of the dragon must be countered with the speed and efficiency of their crew, and often times with the heavy weaponry that the Kampfritters carry strapped to their backs. Kampfritters also serve as transports for the elite German "Falschirmjaeger", the paratroopers that Germany has used to great effect in their campaigns across Europe. Accordingly, despite their lack of mental subtlety, the Kampfritter is one of the most terrifying beasts in the air, more than capable of sending even veteran allied heavyweights to their ignominious deaths.


Jotunmeister: The Jotunmeister is a force of nature, a being of myth and legend, enshrined in Northern literature and sagas for centuries upon centuries. Native all across northern Europe, from Norway to Sweden, Finland to Denmark, and along the Baltic coasts of Germany (though rare in any case), the Jotunmeister resembles nothing more than a Norse god re-incarnated as a dragon. They are beings of Olympian wrath and power, capable of sustaining terrible punishment without so much as an acknowledgment, pressing home their relentless assaults again and again and again as though possessed by some mad desire to drive themselves into Valhalla. Much like the Regal Coppers of Britain or the Grand Chevaliers of France, only the most elite, solid, and dependable captains are ever paired with the awesome Jotunmeisters, though unlike those other breeds, Jotunmeisters have a tendency to be very picky about who their captains are to be, though of course once bound to a captain, they will live and die by their side until the ending of the world.

Though these magnificent and awe-striking beasts would seem to be natural partners for the Nazi regime, given their close ties to Norse mythos and Germanic lore, Jotunmeisters are fiercely independant dragons, who openly despise many of their more "servile" fellows, such as the Kampfritters or even the Prussian Bluejackets. Though they would never consider betraying their fatherland, they know themselves to be indispensable, and thus they feel no compulsion to behave in a politically orthodox fashion, nor to obey the more sanguinary orders that the Luftwaffe high command may pass along. Indeed, Jotunmeisters fight, not for the glory of the Reich, but for the glory of fighting, and a particularly worthy opponent, be they the lightest of lightweights, will sometimes be allowed to escape with their lives and that of their captain intact, for Jotunmeisters respect the courage of any dragon brave or mad enough to challenge one of them. They have been known to actually snatch enemy captains right off the backs of smaller dragons, so as to provoke the dragons in question to acts of desperate fury and courage, and should the smaller enemy impress them with their drive and spirit, then their captain will be returned, mostly unharmed, and they themselves allowed to flee. It is for this and many other reasons, rumor has it, that Jotunmeisters are slowly being phased out of the Luftwaffe in favor of the Kampfritter dragons, and of other, more deadly beasts being bred by the Nazis expert dragonbreeders.


Special Weapons:

Aufseher: The "Ranger" is Germany's answer to the French Flamme-de-Gloire, the Spanish Cacafuego, the Italian Nemesis, the Turkish Kazilik, and the British Spitfire and Longwing. Roughly the size of a large middleweight, the Aufseher can spit a barrage of highly potent hydrofluorocarbonic acid out of special bone growths on either side of their face. This acid is, if anything, more potent than that of the Longwing, though in compensation it is also more viscous, and thus somewhat easier to avoid if one is careful (though still by no means easy). This acid will burn through almost any known material from battleship plate to ferroconcrete, and can kill any dragon in a single strike to the head or main body. Sand, vinegar and powerful alkaline solutions are the only way of stopping the acid from eating through whatever it is spat upon. These dragons are thus the core of any German attack formation, engaging in ground attacks as often as air ones, protected by the full might of the Luftwaffe's war machine.

In terms of personality, these deadly dragons are something of a paradox. They are nervous, irritable, temperamental beasts, who require sure and steady captains to command them. They spook easily, and can panic when confronted by sudden attack. Lest this appear to be a good thing however, they usually respond to said attacks by vomiting their acid all over their attackers, a grisly and invariably fatal reaction one would do well to avoid. Their personality quirks notwithstanding, Aufsehers are one of the most deadly weapons in the German arsenal, and any who forget that are liable to wind up bleached bones on the countryside below.

Havoc, how long have you been doing this? It's very impressive work.

One small quibbling nitpick: Thunderbird mythology in Canada is all centered around the West Coast, which is way the hell away from the Iroquois Confederation. Having the breed exlcusively associated with Iroquois warriors really jars.

Many of the breeds I posted at the begining of this thread were invented by me for the first time I tried this game, with the exception of the British dragons, all of whom are canon from the books themselves. The German, American, and other dragons posted more recently are ones I came up with for this iteration, though some of the german ones existed in some form previously. I'm glad you think it worthwhile :)

As to the Canadian mythos... firstly, the dragon in question is the Canadian Thunderchild, not Thunderbird, though I concede that the distinction is somewhat semantic. The Thunderchild was not however supposed to be the same beast from the Western Canadian mythologies, indeed the name comes from a completely different source (and one I'm embaressed to admit to, and thus shall not). It is tied specifically into the Iriquois nations' legends regarding dragons, which it was not my intention to use as a replacement for the Thunderbird. I honnestly never thought it would be interpretted that way...

... and secondly, I didn't want to get into this in the OOC because there's no END to this kind of stuff, but the political situation of this world is not the same as the one you and I know from History. I really don't want to go into the details here, because it will simply never stop, but Canada has a MUCH MUCH larger native american influence in it in this world (hence a lot of wars with the US), and not merely Iriquois, so I assume the name could have migrated east, if it WAS from the west to begin with.

I gathered that the Native Americans had more power in this world. Hell, in the real world, there was a period after the Europeans arrived when the Iroquois were arguably equal in power to the French colony of Quebec and the American Colonies. George Washington's defeat of the Iroquois was his greatest prerevolutionary military accomplishment and he got the name "Burner of Towns" from that. The historical Iroquois were very bad ass.

But they are also very far away from the West Coast. Three guesses whose dad is an archeologist specializing in North West Coast and Southwestern archeology. And lives in a wet city with the largest Chinatown in North America.

And there is no shame in caging a name from Wells. He's one of the great early Science Fiction writers.