Others ravage, rage, tear and scratch at anything that will reduce the pain - the itch of False Users. I endure. I stay in control. I pour the fury and pain into my project, my hatred acting as my fuel to keep going on. My hatred of the False Users. Of our curse. Most of all, of Her.
All of my past experiments on living dragonkin were failures - no matter how much I tore my subjects apart, leaving them on the brink of death, examining their entrails, still they felt the itch. I could see it burning in their eyes as they died. The secret to our curse is not hidden deep within our bodies, or I would have found it. I am absolutely certain of that.
Frustration. Poured into rage and slaughter. A solution came as I found an island filled with giant, mindless reptiles - I could not forcibly remove Her curse, but I could work around it. Create a new uncursed form of life. I used magic to force my lifeblood into the eggs of the strongest of these reptiles. Only one survived the process: the egg of a huge water-dwelling lizard. I now watch, and wait. Pain...must focus. Control is everything. My progeny is the key to our freedom. The lesser races already fear us in our manipulated, cursed states. They will be even more helpless when the true dragonkin are unleashed.