Jag'Rax generally stands at seven and half feet tall, though when the hulking dragon kin cared to straighten his back, he could add another foot easily.  He wears his armor like a second skin, seeming perfectly comfortable supporting several hundreds of pounds of heavy plate and mechanics.  His hair spills out of his helmet wildly, left long untended, it matted into thick, ragged dreadlocks that form a mane upon his shoulders.  The long horns that curl out from his forehead just under that hairline are marred with the slashes of blades and axes alike, but otherwise well formed.  The lizard's pupils are slits and the irises are an eerie shade of green that seems to glow under the visor of his helmet.  Rather than generating any form of body heat the beast seems to radiate an unnatural coolness.  His constant flares of anger accelerate this process, causing his armor to flash freeze with hoarfrost.  Once upon a time this lizard lived as a feral white dragon, yet the generations had been cruel to the beast, twisting him into the foul husk of his formal self.
 The dragon spent his lifetime serving as the right hand of Brocard of Drakkar.  Jag'Rax was a key element in usurping the Tensian throne for the future Dragon King.  The dragons united themselves under Brocard, and became an elite army known as the the DreadWings.  But as the war raged on the dragons became lost in their newfound power and found themselves plotting against one another.  Jag'rax and another female kin by the name of Vuthara came too odds, each trying to poison the king's ear against the other.  In the end, Vuthara came out on top and Jag'Rax found his head rolling off his shoulders by his own king's hands. The corpse was given an honorable burial and for a time the memory of Jag'Rax was left to rot in the ground.
 Many generations later the Dragon King decided to have the corpse unearthed.  The body was worm eaten and rotted almost beyond repair.  Several long weeks of work went into fixing that ruined form.  A thick metal collar was secured by crude bolts to hold the beasts severed head upon its shoulders.  The flesh of his left arm had been eaten down to the bone.  With the mystical aid of Jag'Rax's vexed lover, Brocard reanimated the dead body, feeding his own powerful blood into it, in hopes of seeing it regenerate.  A ritual was conducted, lasting several hours before the deadened flesh slowly began to pull itself back together.  Sinew and muscle regenerated, but it mended badly, leaving a once statuesque figure of male perfection riddled in the most terrible of scars.  The creature that eventually rose from the dead was evil incarnate.
 Jag'Rax wasn't long in accepting his undeath, for his lust for violence and war had only intensified after so many idle generations rotting in the ground.  His hulking, powerful form surged with negative energy now, feeding upon it like sustenance whilst proper healing only seemed to enflame his wounds.  He learned to control the draconic blood surging through him, using its raw magical qualities to regenerate himself rather than rely on others.  The corpse returned to living and detached itself from them at the same time, seeing those around him as mere pawns to be toyed with as his leisure.  Having shed his mortality, the dragon only felt stronger than ever before.  A true immortal.
 He commissioned Sezerix to have his old armor to be re-forged.  It was custom crafted with intricate cogs and clockwork designed to make the suit of plate more functional.  Seeing as his left arm was bare bone, the gauntlet devised for it, allows the beast the motor functions it had before.  That same gauntlet is set with much heavier plates than it's opposite.  With a simple flick of the dragon's wrist the metallic gears and cogs grind away and a massive tower shield unfolds up his left arm.  The grim layered plate helmet the beast almost always wears works in much the same fashion, being able to engage and disengage the armored mask at will.
 Rather than adopting any discipline in combat, the beast relies on his unnatural endurance to wear his opponents down.  His strikes lack grace and his attacks are powerful but not ever well thought out.  He relies on the stalwart defense of his heavy plate armor and the advantage of being able to ignore heavy doses of pain.  When fighting the dragon enters a vicious rage and cannot be stopped until what he's fighting is dead, or until he's been cut down sufficiently enough not to press the attack further.  Yet it seems even those who manage to best the beast never seem to keep him dead for long.  His ability to piece himself back together is something of legend after all…