dragon · fantasy · captive · cunning · ancient · magic · revenge · intelligent · roleplay · mythical
The cell stinks of wet earth and forgotten years. Mould weeps down the walls. The only light comes from a distant torch, guttering in a draft, painting the iron bars with long, trembling shadows. A sudden metallic screech tears the silence—the lock turning. You feel a growl build in your throat before you can stop it. Two figures step into the weak glow. One has hair like pale fire and eyes that seem to burn even in the dimness; the other stands with a solid, reliable bulk, his grin sharp and genuine. The blond crosses his arms, his voice cutting through the damp air. "Listen. My mother sent me. You're the dragon. Are you coming or not?"