I was sifting through some of my old notes for the RP earlier and came across an old entry for the Deo'iel Guide to Survival that I never actually shared because I wasn't entirely satisfied with it. I decided to just touch it up a little bit and let you see it.

[HIDER=Dreadmaw][B]Dreadmaw[/B]
Too few facts about the phenomenon known most commonly as “dreadmaw” to write a full entry into the Guide to Survival on the subject, but dreadmaw is still important and dangerous enough that the deo’iel deem it necessary present a mention of it. Reports of dreadmaw have occurred infrequently throughout recorded history, for as long as the civilized races have braved the sea, and it has reached mythological status among seafarers, representing the ultimate danger of the ocean. Whether dreadmaw is a single creature living for millennia or simply a species so rare that two of them have never been observed in the same place is unknown.
Though there exist many stories of ships encountering dreadmaw, the most credible account available to us is that of Vilhej'deo'calahuneth, documenting her encounter with the monster:

[I]It was the eleventh day of our voyage abound for the lands of Rodoria, and sea was quite calm, with the storm of the previous day having passed during the night. It was well past sunrise when word reached us from the crow’s nest that a ship had appeared, and that it was moving to intercept us. We soon discovered this ship to be of Melenian origin, and we were beset by buccaneers, forcing us to defend ourselves. We retaliated with blade and magic, targeting their ship with fireballs and bolts of lightning, hoping to set it ablaze.
We know not whether it was the noise, the heat or something else entirely that lured the beast. All we know was that the sea suddenly grew dark, and a growl rose as if from the pit of Hell itself as inky blackness coalesced beneath the Melenian ship. The beast emerged from the water directly beneath the pirates, so big that the hull of their brig fit easily between its jaws and was carried into the air, held aloft like a hound would hold its prey. It snapped its jaws shut, and the Melenian craft was crushed to splinters by its fearsome might.
“Dreadmaw”, the sailors called with primal fear in their eyes, and for truth we have never seen a beast more fitting of such a title. It was a serpent of sorts, only with wings; I counted two pairs in sight, maybe forty feet apart, but no other limbs were visible. It towered at least a hundred and fifty feet into the air, with no way of knowing how grand a body hid beneath the waves. The sheer size of it had veteran sailors cower in fear, placing their fates in the hands of the gods, and even I must confess a sense of horror.
The mages pelted the beast with lightning and fire, but it barely seemed to notice. Lightning seemed to do nothing at all, and even our most powerful flames merely singed its scales. Quilsin had more luck striking it with frost, but whether this truly hurt Dreadmaw or simply enraged it is guesswork. Arrows and missiles bounced off its hide, and even liquid fire seemed victim to imperviousness.
I cursed the beast for attacking from the water, out of my reach. Something shot out of the creature’s mouth and stuck to Quilsin, like the tongue of a toad to a fly. The penin seemed paralyzed, but we did not realize that Dreadmaw’s tongue conducted electricity until Varnfol seized Quilsin’s arm and fell victim as well. The beast retracted its tongue and Quilsin disappeared into its maw, though Varnfol mercifully lost his grip rather than share his partner’s fate.
Dreadmaws tongue shot out swiftly and repeatedly, snatching my companions and the crew of the ship one by one and drawing them into oblivion, until Varnfol managed to get the beast to attach its tongue to a barrel of Quilsin’s finest. The explosion appeared to cause Dreadmaw pain, likely due to it losing or injuring the tip of its tongue, but pain only seemed to intensify its rage. It launched at us directly, opting to aim for the people on deck rather than the ship itself, and scooped up at least several men in one move, dooming them to a fate in its gullet. I saw my chance now that it was finally within range, however, and rushed Dreadmaw’s lowered head with my sword, reaching between its teeth - each the size of a man - and plunging the blade into the floor of its mouth with all of my strength. The blood that spilled forth was as hot as it was pungent, and Dreadmaw retreated violently enough to wrest the weapon from my grasp and sent me tumbling across the deck, nearly consigning me to the waters below.
The sea stirred and threw about the ship as Dreadmaw thrashed before us, seemingly frenzied and in the throes of agony from the wound I inflicted. A wing swept by and broke two masts, but otherwise we were mercifully spared the consequences of its rage. I realized after that I must have hit something vulnerable or sensitive with my sword, for even though it was enchanted, the beast must have had wounds and splinters in its mouth already from crushing the other ship. I have long pondered why it chose to attack us the way it did, too, rather than simply wipe us out as it had with the others; with its size and power we would have had no means of defending ourselves.
I never found out, however, for Dreadmaw retreated back into the inky darkness of the ocean, and I never saw it again. Beware, my deo’iel, for there is no doubt in my heart that Dreadmaw is the most dangerous beast I have ever faced.[/I][/HIDER]