Agor Longtail
“Why do you fawn over these hideous creatures?” the magi asked as he rolled his eyes and smiled.
“The Dragonborn are my disciples.” Agor tilted her head, the scales of her neck clicking. “I feel a great power running beneath your mortal flesh. Tell me, magi, who is your master?”
The magi descended into a fit of maniacal laughter. The dragonsguard on either side of him yanked on the chains that bound him.
He said, “My master will be revealed. All in good time. In fact, he may have a use for you. Power and loyalty are highly rewarded in the halls of chaos.”
Agor lowered her head and sniffed at the deranged human. He stank of eldritch magic.
The man jerked, his face twitched, and his eyes bulged. Drool ran down his chin from his slack mouth. A distant voice echoed through his body. “You are Agor Longtail,” it said. “I feel your presence, long ago, at the birth of this realm.”
A strange sensation grew in Agor's mind, a trespass of will tugging at her subconscious.
“Come to me, Agor. Join the ranks of chaos and fulfill your potential.”
A preternatural warmth tingled in Agor's belly.
The voice continued. “When I am done with this realm, it could be yours. When its mana has been sucked dry—”
Agor struck with a hiss, her jaws ripping the magi in half and silencing the voice.
She sat back on her haunches and frowned. It had been long indeed since she had felt this strange, nagging emotion, and it was a struggle to remember. Was it curiosity or fear? The mountains of Dragon's Roost reach high into the sky, their peaks tearing at the bellies of passing clouds. Many species of dragon have made their homes here among the crags and ledges. They live in relative harmony, away from the nuisance of the two-legged creatures that populate most of Draykh-Nahka. There is one that is different, though. She makes her home deep within the subterranean halls of the mountain range. Other dragons avoid her, and few will speak her name. The dragonborn know her well, though, and have worshiped her for as long as they can remember.
She is Agor Longtail, one of the largest red dragons ever to have lived.
Twice each year, on the equinox, a host of dragonborn visit the lair of Agor to pay homage to her. They bring tributes, and Agor offers wisdom—a small fraction of her eternal knowledge. On the summer solstice, she leaves the comfort of her mountainous lair and takes to the skies, raining death upon any who have dared to wrong her disciples. On the winter solstice, she visits the Suam, leader of the naga and the Gloridax, to offer counsel regarding governance, economics, the military, and other matters of state. There is no mistaking, however, that Agor could destroy the Grand Consul of the Gloridax with one flaming breath if she so chose.
After the Chaos Legion's invasion, most dragonborn gave up their pilgrimage to Agor, and those who attempted it were killed. At first, Agor thought they had forsaken her, and the great dragon fell into a dark brooding. She became angry with herself for letting these simple mortals affect her. She was a dragon, and they were insects—insignificant snippets of life that meant nothing.
But every living thing needs adoration, and Agor was no different. Eventually, curiosity got the better of her. She ventured out to discover what had become of her disciples. It was then she saw the devastation wrought by the legions of chaos. Her fury sparked a rage so great that the roar of Agor Longtail nearly split the heavens asunder.