Literature
Quill and Compass, Entry 16: White Dragons
There are places deep within Gaiaxia where light has never touched. Where the air is heavy with moisture and the silence is broken only by the flow of underground rivers pushing through the dark. These caverns feel ancient in a way the surface rarely achieves; eons may pass, yet this limbo can remain largely unchanged. It is in this lightless realm that the White Dragons make their home, and the dark welcomes them where little else wishes to remain.
Calling them Dragons is technically accurate, though most of their kin would scoff at the notion. White Dragons are all but scaleless and ghostly pale, their skin has lost nearly all pigmentation and is smooth and leathery like that of a cave salamander. They have no eyes, only shallow indentations where sight once blessed their kind; though calling them blind would be a dangerous misunderstanding. They do not see as we do, but they perceive everything: the faintest tremor in the water, the shift in a cavern’s air, the sound of a boot
