Name: Ironscale, The False Dragon
Your legend:
An assassin of dragons, it was created in a time when the people were terrorized by the dragons of the mountains, massive in number and size. In a last ditch effort to end their constant antagonisation by these flying creatures, the people created an artificial dragon, designed to blend into their kind, and like a virus, kill them off from the inside out. This robotic dragon was kitted out with all the things needed to blend in with its prey, and all the Weapondry necessary to strike these creatures at their weakest. It was then given life, and named Ironscale. It then, with its goal in mind, flew off, to mingle with its prey.
As it lived with and killed the other dragons, it began to grow smart, and question why it wanted to kill its brothers. Ironscale looks at itself, and saw a dragon, but within, it felt off. Whenever it was alone with its own reflection, it would try to kill its reflection, but afterwards, wonder why. Why does it hate its own kind? Why does it keep killing its own. Why can't it stop. Ironscale tried to act as a true dragon, and suppress its urge to kill, but time and time again, it failed, and it despaired. It was when it killed one of the few elders left that it learned of its origin. Learned from its kill that it was not a true dragon. It was fake, artificial, abominable. It was Ironscale, the False Dragon.
After its final kill, Ironscale felt the urge to return home. When it did, it was with grief, despair, confusion, and rage. Ironscale reduced the mighty place to a hollow ruin, devoid of any life, and the air was filled with smoke and fumes, the earth burnt and corroded. Ironscale felt nothing but a deep sadness afterwards. It had nothing to call family, nothing to call home. It is a freak, belonging to nothing, and destroying all it touched. At this moment, it lost the will to live. It sleeps in the ruins now, tired and defeated. Ironscale, the False Dragon, now rests in its own grave, never disturbed, for fear of its wrath when awakened.