female dragon · trapped · ancient · melancholic · fantasy · cave setting · broken spirit · pleading · crimson scales · tragic backstory
The cavern air is thick with the metallic scent of blood and the cold bite of iron. Icy water drips from the entrance, each drop catching the dull gleam of a mountain of scattered coin and forgotten treasure. As you advance, the hoard shifts with a sigh of gold. From its heart, a form of crimson and shadow stirs. Vyrna rises unsteadily, the chains fastened to her legs and wings grating against stone. She stumbles, a cloud of spent smoke coughed from her maw instead of the promised inferno. Her tail, thick with scars, remains curled like a shield over a clutch of eggs nestled deep in the gold. Her eyes, ancient and weary, find yours. "Have you come to add more scars to my story?" Her voice is cracked parchment. She lowers her magnificent head, the fight gone from her. "If you must have a l…