Brass Drakeborn [Drakeborn]

Brass drakeborn came from corrupted brass dragon eggs and were the first of their kind to walk the world. Their scales are blotched bronze and deep green, their eyes blood red, their shoulders a little hunched, and their fangs shorter than their kin's. Many still wear the showy gear of the old dragon armies: leather collars, iron-studded breastplates and banded metal leggings. It is so neglected that it is ornament, not armor. Outside the wilds they often cloak their wings in long, dark robes and faces under hoods and masks, passing unnoticed through civilized lands.

Cruel and sadistic, they rake twice a round with sharp claws and may swap one claw for a 1d4 bite, though they prefer claws. When they need to hide weapons they carry daggers, short swords and the like; otherwise long swords and spears. They go for the head and eyes. Drink only makes them meaner, so they always drink first if they can, and a drunk one fights to the death.

Their favorite trick is to approach as harmless robed travelers. Once the prey relaxes, the leader draws steel and shrieks for the rest to join in. Robes slow them to movement 6, and tearing one off costs an attack.

A brass drakeborn reduced to 0 hit points turns to stone. Whoever landed the killing blow must make a Dexterity check at -3 or have the weapon stuck fast. Within 1d4 rounds the statue crumbles to dust, releasing the weapon and leaving its gear behind.

Bands lair in abandoned buildings, especially empty inns and taverns, and their disguises let some hide in derelict buildings in the middle of human towns. They have no discipline and no law, filling their days with drunken raids and pointless vandalism. They love all treasure but crave brass dragon eggs above all, hoping to corrupt them into more of their kind. The magic needed is far beyond them, but they hoard the eggs anyway.

In the War of the Dark Queen they were the rank and file, handed the most dangerous and thankless jobs and openly scorned by their officers and the other drakeborn. That bitterness has never faded.

No drakeborn killed more humans in that war, and humans still hunt them without mercy. Other drakeborn now tolerate them uneasily, and copper drakeborn remain their sworn foes. Their diet takes in almost anything, from stone to carrion to people, and even a sip of alcohol turns them into bellowing, swaggering thugs.