"The Old One will be pleased," their leader said. His voice was raspy, that of an old man. He had a dagger sheathed on his belt; his eyes were an unnatural shade of green. "Tie her up there." He motioned to a table carved from a single, massive black rock. Thick rings of iron with rope were at each corner of the table... and on its surface was dried blood. The temple was carved into the mountainside, leading to a cave, perhaps thirty feet tall and just as wide.

Elisa was tied to the stone table, and the crowd grew silent. The robed figures began chanting in low, rhythmic voices, but the sound echoed and grew louder as it went down the tunnel. Deep in the heart of the mountain, the Old One awakened. There had bern more sacrifices as of late, a fact he was quite happy with. He let out a low roar, and the hooded figures ceased chanting, moved aside.

The Old One took some time to reach the cave entrance, but when he did, Elisa's captors bowed deeply, the more devout with their foreheads on the ground. He was a massive dragon, his head almost touching the ceiling of the cave. His scales, once a brilliant crimson, were dark maroon. His body had a fair share of scars, namely one that had blinded his left eye; but the other glowed a malevolent orange, and hed a look of... amusement? Pleasure?

"Such a pretty young thing," he crooned. "You have pleased me once again, holy man." The head priest murmured a quiet thanks, never daring to look up at the Old One. "Now, girl..." He brought his head closer, examining her with his good eye. "How much longer you live now is determined by how you answer this question: looking death in the face, do you accept it bravely and silently, or kicking and screaming? I need some entertainment from my prey."