All Rights Reserved: Warcraft belongs to Blizzard Entertainment.

Ragna Crimson belongs to Daiki Kobayashi.


Date: ??/??/????

Location: ????/??????

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Flame and blood was all he felt. All he saw. Aches clouded his mind, what little wasn't still trying to coordinate what they had been dealing with. The sound of fire, guns, and weapons striking flesh filled their mind as they smelt raw sewage and the scent of blood. Freshly spilt. Though whether it belonged to himself or others, left him confused even more then he already was. Then a moment of clarity as the sound of wind drifted down. He had faced the Scion of the fallen Earth Warden and failed.

Failed to account for their former friend's maddened strength. His eyes creaked open, gazing upon a large room surrounded by others. The dead. Or perhaps not the dead. He was by far the largest, easily dwarfing houses back in Azeroth. He saw Drakonid and Dragonspawn. Of many different flights. The black flight ones would have, if he wasn't so wounded, he'd have put them down. Yet the sickly stench of blood filled his nostrils yet still. That of mortal blood. Eyes linger on the strewn about dragonkin before shifting with a snarl. The sound of the wind roaring high above sounded strange. Like it was being forcefully altered in its direction. A memory, that of the Blue Flight. The smell of magic. That's what it was.

Had he been saved by a Blue Dragon? Yet why take even the cursed black flight? Or the abomination that was- no.

He breathed out. Looking upon the distinct color pallet of the Chromatic Flight. He was of the Red. He was of the Life Giver. With an inhale, even as his lungs, tortured as they were, protested. Then a bathing of his healing flames erupted over the collective. There was so many within the room. Now that he'd realized it. So so many. Of all the flights. His breath bathing each and everyone. Nearly five minutes of unleashing his breath led to his lungs exhausting themselves. Yet the chamber had redirected the flame back towards him in some capacity. His own wounds on his legs and chest having healed.

The sound of the swirling vortex echoed above still, yet it seemed to lessen. Though that he had the distinct impression it had started to move away. As though it was chasing something. Sadly, exhaustion had begun to already take him. The whispers of slumber ticked away at his ears and mind as he slumped once more into the stony ground. Eyes dropping as he saw the numberless whelps surrounding him begin to twitch. While there were the corrupted scattered amongst their number- he couldn't help but find a smile on his face. As though some instinctive pressure on his mind told him that all was well.


Location: Tortiere

Date: March 4, 498

Crimson

Even as the Dragon Hunters celebrated their victory, something tugged at the former Monarch's nose. The scent of dragons. Yet not dragons. There was all manner of other scents mixed in with the rest. They smelt like his kin and yet something vastly different. Ragna was still resting after the ordeal and so he was going to investigate. The scent leading him to the entrance into the cities sewage system. Humans really did like to build things in a robust way at least. His eyes narrowing before turning.

"Slime."

The amorphous humanoid would salute with that same cheeky grin.

"Yush?"

Turning, his eyes never left the darkness of the tunnel ahead of them. Instinct telling him that there was something down there that would peak his own curiosity.

"You can smell that yes?"

The hyperactive, if brainless, blob of highly acidic material nodded their head rapidly.

"Yeah I do! Ish shmells delicious."

So he wasn't imagining things. Dragons were down there. In great quantities. Yet from his own intel, Disas Trois had come alone to this city or what dragons he initially brought were sent elsewhere. So why was he detecting the blood of dragons. Better question. Why wasn't his blood erupting in rage at the scent. It frustrated and intrigued him at the same exact time.

"Then go and investigate. Don't take long however."

The slime would quickly run off. For hours they'd be gone. They couldn't have been lost given their keen sense of smell. When they returned however, they looked, flummoxed. Looking up at him, fist shoved into his own mouth as their eyes conveyed that almost child like confusion.

"So. What did you find?"

There was a bit of drool running along their face before they rushed out and flattened. Their typical manner of presenting gathered information. The form of the area that Slime had surveyed began to take shape out of its very body. The corridors of the sewage system were quite extensive. Though Crimson knew that already. He'd hidden within them and others on some occasions. This forming took place over fifty seconds and in that time the most peculiar thing struck them as the shapes formed.

"Are those..eggs?"

Dragons don't lay eggs. That was a fundamental fact of their "species". The lessers and their subsequent elder fiend are directly created from the blood of superior and higher dragons. Unless one of them had decided to try something truly barbarous. Then came more chambers. And more. Hundreds. Perhaps closer to a thousand. Eggs alone. Then came what could only be small dragons. Whelps. Children. Dragons don't have children. What likely were some kind of next stage of these strange dragons. Four legged and winged. While the largest in the midst of them all was easily the size of a Superior's true form. Though given each is different, that wasn't an apt comparison.

"They look to be still. Are they dead?

Then stranger creatures. Centaur like creatures based on the image Crimson was seeing. Next were large humanoid like creatures. Both, based on the images he was seeing, were covered in armor and sported weapons. Soldiers more than likely. Most Superior or Matriarchs could choose to cloth and arm their minions but most don't bother.

"Lots with smoke. But no thunk dead."

So wounded but not dead. Yet the smoke sounded like Draconic regeneration. He wanted to investigate. He really did. Yet he knew better. Yet his wants-

He stood there, mind running in circles, Slime just making that same dumb face. Then with an exhale, he started in.

"Go find the Boy. I'll be back. If these are dragons. Then I'll have him deal with them. I'm much to curious now."

So into the darkness did Crimson descend. Into the rank tunnels beneath the destroyed city. Curiosity and interest much to peaked. Right turn. Then a left. He'd already memories the passage that led him to the first chamber. It would only take ten minutes of walking after all. The strange scene and flicker of something long thought dead beginning to creep up on him in mind and nose. Then he had emerged into a large chamber. Water running between the raised platforms. Yet it wasn't the branching waterways or the scent of sewage that drew his attention. The eggs. Each of them, a vibrant mixture of colors, scattered around the stone placements. Reds, Blacks, Blues, Bronze, Greens, even Greys and Light Pink. Bodies covered in spines which, given they were eggs, likely wouldn't have been delivered painlessly.

"These really are eggs."

It was so peculiar. His hand running across the outer scaled exterior of one of the green eggs. That flame within his chest, long dead, after the death of his own clan. It was a foul feeling. Something incredibly foreign to himself. He stood up. Sending something. Power. Even sealed as his powers were, he felt it.

Starting down a near by tunnel to their right, they came upon a similar chamber with ten eggs. Then another. The humans had likely used these places as means to direct the flow of waste from their cities towards some underground chamber or a lake flowing out. Ten more. Perhaps more. Chambers were found to be filled with eggs. Yet it was the next that he found someone living. Or well, beyond the eggs.

"Ho~ and what's this now?"


??????

The scent has hit his nostrils. The scent of another dragon. Yet even with the others sleeping, he could tell that this one was not of any flight he recognized. There was power there. Muted though. Whatever it was, it almost reminded him of the Aspects. Slowly, using what little magic still remained, he cloaked himself in it. Casting Polymorph upon himself. He was no Blue Flight, but he was still adept enough to disguise himself. Given that this place was built with the intention for mortal use, the dragon would have to shrink.

Slumped against the wall, walking past dozing drakes, whelps, dragon spawn, and drakonids. Of all the flights. A concept he still had trouble with after the last ten thousand years of war with the black dragon. Flight. Not including how there appeared to be Nelfarion's own chromatic and he thought he smelt undead as well. His head shakes itself as he begins trudging towards the distant scene of another dragon. Entering into the darkness of the tunnel.

There is little light down here, likely left over from the mortals efforts to otherwise build this and maintain it. Yet in the distance, he sees it. Another chamber. With what looks to be separated into four parts. Sewage water running between the different sections. Yet his eyes find only the disguised dragon. For he finds a red haired mortal dressed skin to a mage, with tattoos in their throat.

"Ho~ and what's this now?"

Theodore voice is hard to pin down. It sounds feminine but with an underlying masculine tone. As quickly as that thought entered his mind, he disregards it. For he sees eggs. Ten in the room. All colors. His heart swells with joy. Yet the disguised dragon doesn't remove his eyes from his own. Studying.

"I would call you mortal. But we both know that isn't the case. Is it, kin?"

The face they make however is that of disgust but also curiosity.

"Normally I'd be angry that a dragon just called me kin. But I'm more surprised you sniffed me out. Not even superior dragons had that capability."

He was confused at that phrasing. Superior? What did he quite mean by that.

"I haven't met a dragon on Azeroth I haven't been able to tell from their human form. Tell me, what continent am I on? The air feels, strange. Are we near the Dalaran Ruins?"

The look given to him by the other dragon was one of abject confusion. Head tilted to the side while they frowned.

"Azeroth? Dalaran? Are those locations under Solarian holding?"

And that was all the confirmation he needed to tell him about his own situation. A smile creasing across his face before a shake of his head. Laughter bubbling from his strained and tired throat. Of course, of course! His luck would be on that overall level.

"Haaaa. So this isn't the world if Azeroth. And you are not apart of any of the Dragonflights. I suppose this would be a proper first contact with a dragon from another world."


Location: Tortiere

Date: March 4, 498

Crimson

The dragon before him was insane. He'd concluded that as of now. While he knew about the fact that there were beings outside their own reality, they were speaking of the fact whole other worlds existed and there apparently were other dragons out there. Crimson would have suspected the Dragon God's meddling on other worlds outside their own in their eternal war with the Sun God, but this dragon lacked that taint. That touch. They certainly had a touch. One that spoke of something else, yet it was not the same. That was something he had already concluded. At first he deemed him a potential creation by the Solarians. The adage "Fight Fire with Fire" sprung to Crimson's mind.

"You really belive that…don't you?"

Yet there was no blood lust, or trickery. Even when faced with a former Monarch. They barely reacted when he had tried to subtly influence the dragon before him so that he could kill them. As he had done earlier with several dragons. The dragon before him was likely telling the truth or not apart of the Winged Monarch's clan. They as well likely didn't belong to the rest. The only remaining confusion-

"Strange as it is, yes, then again had I not seen all I had since the Uplifting, I might think myself as well insane."

Uplifting. Disturbing implications. Though his interest was starting to grow peaked.

"If what you claim is accurate then I suppose I should humor you. If you are truly of another world then you are lost yes? In a land you are unfamiliar with and without allies~"

Normally he was able to keep their disposition from rearing its head. Yet here? At this moment? It was safe to assume his face was twitching and trying not to break into some form of broad grinning smile. A tool. A potentially impressive tool, had just emerged before him. Didn't help that the scent was somewhat enticing. He felt a slight heat creep into his cheeks. Then with a shift, he looked back at the chamber he had come from.

"Then I would ask your aid in learning about my surroundings. I am far from alone in the situation. Very much not based on the scents I can detect within the antechambers and adjacent rooms. I certainly can smell whelps. Likely my own children are counted amongst them."

Oh my well wasn't that interesting. A fathering sort and potentially with hostages within reach of him as well. Crimson mentally was salivating at the chance to bind this otherworldly dragon to his command. Yet he also could not be hasty. There was much to be wary of. So he needed to prod some information from the mind of the dragon.

"So if you are of another world, you as a dragon reproduce utilizing eggs yes? I found many on my way here."

Theodore subtle twitch of his body is all Crimson needs to know. Paternal instincts.

"Yes. Dragons are by nature reptiles. So it stands to reason we lay eggs. Why? Are your kin so much different than that. You almost sound surprised by your own words."

That was intended to leak into his question. Though that concluded any lingering worries about connection with the Dragon God. They were bound by the blood. Made whole by the blood. And ultimately undone by the blood of the God.

"No. No in fact we aren't even natural creations. More akin to vampiric nature that feeds like parasites off others."

Crimson watched their reaction, across that chiseled and masculine features of their human form. Face contorting into a picture of rage and agitation. Oh my that certainly struck a nerve.

"Tell me everything-"

Oh my they certainly had that domineering drive of a dragon of his world. Though they seemed to catch themselves. For moments, flames of red and black licked their edges of their mouth. The energy that permeated it however was rank and foul. More so than that connection with the Dragon God. Then they stopped and breathed, holding a hand out.

"I forgot to ask you your name."

A hand gripped his as he hummed. My this dragon either didn't understand human proportions, or the humans he was accustomed to seeing were far exceeding the size of what inhabited here.

"Crimson, and you?"

The dragon slightly smiled. First time since they met. It wasn't an unattractive smile. Only blemished by the blood that clung to the front of his teeth. Dried at least.

"Vaelastrasz of the Red Dragonflight."

———

AN: Yes. This is a Warcraft / Ragna Crimson fanfic. More dragon focused. All dragons will only be from the events of world of Warcraft classic and its subsequent zones and raids.

I'm leaving this open for suggestions of named Dragonkin to appear alongside the main cast.

However they can plot be from Classic era. The story will focus less on the Warcraft dragons derailing things and more about them dealing with their own situations. The biggest camps will be Vael, Black Dragons, Chromatic Dragons, Nightmare Dragons, and Temple of Alt'hakkar Dragons. All dragons we see are mobs from zones in classic wow. As well as the eggs in the various raids in the end game.

I'll have exact numbers for dragons by next upload from each Zone and Flight.

Whelps (by Flight)

Drakes (by Flight)

Dragons (by Flight)

Wyrms (By Flight)

Draconids (By Flight)

Dragon Spawn (By Flight)

So cast your votes on which named Warcraft dragon next chapter should focus on! These are purely classic so no dragon that died after the start of BC.