The Arid Dragon
Long ago, when elvenkind was just finding its way in the world, there were far fewer sorts than there are now. There were no deep elves, no snow elves, and there were no desert elves. In those days, as well, there was no desert for those future elves to settle. Rather, the south of the desert was covered with a lush and green forest, and in that forest, some of the wood elves had settled, living in harmony with the land. Now, in those days, the leader of the tribe was a stern and fierce sort, but despite his great reverence for the creatures of the forest, he had a deep hatred for those he saw as corrupted-the beasts and monsters of the realm, in his eyes, were worthy of nothing but the worst he could manage.
The day came when the tribe received word of a great dragon, slumbering underneath the forest. It was but a legend, but the idea of his people being told such ridiculousness about this dragon infuriated the leader. They would not pay the creature, if it existed, any such respects. And so he took a number of his men and made his way to where the creature was said to lie; he torched the area, creating a clearing, and brought them home again, declaring victory against a children's story.
That night was long and cold, longer and colder than the nights in the forest had ever been. Briefly, the elves feared that their leader's actions had incurred the dragon's wrath, but in time the sun did rise, and for a moment they breathed a sigh of relief. Moments following the sun, the ground began to shake around them, and from the center of the forest burst a great creature, easily visible even from under the trees. The size of the house, said some; no, a castle; a city. The great dragon coasted under the sun's light and soared over the forest. With a single breath, the beast spread a strange dust across the forest and settled in the crater its entrance had created, waiting.
It did not have to wait long, and the wood elves quickly learned what the dragon had done. Within two septs, everything in the forest was wilted and dying, from the crops of the elves to the ancient trees; within another two, it had all crumbled to dust and sand around them. Only a few places remained lush and fertile as they once were, oases in the desert, and the elves found themselves driven to the area around the small remaining lake, desperately trying to continue their lifestyle despite the lack of food.
The leader was adamant. They would not let this change them. They were being punished, but they would show that they were stronger than the creature that had come to torment them. Others in the tribe disagreed They needed to instead find a new way to carry on, a new lifestyle to take in the desert they found themselves in. And so the two groups went their separate ways, the leader and his followers staying in the oasis, and the dissenters setting off across the desert to search for other displaced tribes, sources of food and water, and methods of hunting.
Many died on both sides in the first year, as the dragon watched over all from his canyon, but those that survived became hardy. They battled the creatures of the desert that attacked them on their journeys or tried to make use of the oasis and remove its current inhabitants; they learned how to survive in the harsh wastes that the dragon had left. In fact, years passed, and in time they nearly forgot it was still there; lying in wait.
The dragon did not wait forever; soon it took to the skies again, searching out the two packs of elves. It landed near the oasis and frightened the elves terribly, but all it did was wait; in time, the second tribe came back around, only to find their former companions terrorized and fearful.
The leaders of each tribe--the old leader and the new--stood before the dragon and demanded what it wanted, but the dragon would not answer. Instead, it reached out with a great claw and in one swipe killed many of the elves standing near to the leaders. The elves cried out in fury and fought against it, but even working together they could not defeat the dragon; it struck them down easily, their corpses dissolving into the sand at the touch of its breath. Three days of terror passed as such, fighting a futile battle against a force of nature, before the leaders of each tribe conferred. The old leader had a plan; it was, after all, his fault that the dragon had been awoken, and despite being one of the last of the original fey-turned-elves among their number, he would be the one to right the wrong he'd done to his people. The other protested, but was silenced.
The next day, the two rejoined the fray, without their weapons. As the new leader took command of the army, the old fey made his way to the dragon and called upon his knowledge of their time as fey, ancient magic that is long forgotten today. He pulled straight from the leyline, and sand rose from the ground around the beast, dragging it back to its canyon. The former fey followed it all the way, standing on the edge, and as the beast was pulled into the ground, he felt his strength sapped. His blood spilled from every orifice onto the sand, dripping down into the canyon, until he fell, lifeless, at the top of the canyon.
The dragon was invisible under the sand. The fey's blood dripped steadily below.
The elves rallied under new leaders and took their separate ways again that day at the canyon. It became known as hallowed and haunted ground, even as the blood of the sacrifices grew twisted, dead-looking thorns from the sand. Yet a few returned over the years when the moon was dark, on the longest night--as far as they could get from the fiery sun--and sacrificed more of their own blood to grow the thorns and keep the dragon pacified, locked and slumbering below the sands.
The years went on. Stories came and went, and the legend of the dragon passed into one told by mothers to children as the wood elves adapted; they became their own breed, the desert elves, and they told themselves it was a story and a legend. There was no dragon below the desert thorns; the yearly sacrifice was led by the superstitious and wary, and could safely be ignored, if they wished.
But they did not go near the canyon.
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