Unconscious, Dirtclaw's body gave in to raw instinct. His hellhound true form had become a vortex, furiously drawing in the life energy being channeled by the Dragon Crucible. In the process, he absorbed an immense number of draconic runes. They etched themselves into his hide, covering his demonic form in a lattice of shimmering gold, creating a bizarre fusion of hellish power and barely contained majesty.
The baptism of the Dragon Crucible was meant to empower, not endanger. But Dirtclaw was an exception. His unique hellhound bloodline, now saturated with draconic power, had pushed him to a dangerous precipice. His consciousness was beginning to fracture. Lost in the surge of new strength, he no longer knew if he was a hound or a dragon.
Fire… the fire of Hell… it burns with my pain… it is despair… it is…
ROAR… I am Dragon… I am a searing light in the darkness… I soar across the heavens… and look down upon all creation…
