Steel and iron, drussian and shanathá—every metal, a thousand metals, all twisted together in sharp swordlike tangles to form the dragon’s body. It resembled a porcupine warped into nightmare, formed by an insane and malevolent god. Morios’s wings seemed less like tools for flying than weapons to scour and excoriate, lash and annihilate. Nothing about the dragon spoke to any purpose other than slaughter and mayhem.
