[center][h2]Glittering Caverns and Halls Somewhere Beneath The Earth…[/h2][/center]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/pe28HYr.jpg[/img][/center][center][h3][i]The Dragon of Plethwi[/i][/h3][/center]


Thirteen rubies, perfectly gleaming even in the near total darkness, illuminated only by the faintest of torchlight. Veles had been staring at them now for some hours, transfixed even in a state of half-sleep. They shone while encrusted on an ancient chalice, a massive goblet clearly crafted for the use of primordial beings far greater than any mortal man… [i]or perhaps a very egotistical king[/i] Veles thought. Surrounded by the gold, jewels and treasures that over the centuries he had taken as tribute from the mortal kings - he hoped still that this immense cup was in fact an object of the gods, and not the petty need of the mortals to compensate for their lack in grandeur.

This inspection was one of thousands, bejewelled trances he has performed over the centuries, ever since Plethwi cursed him with his form… and the insidious compulsions that grew from it. Once in the distant past, he tried to ignore it, the need to look into the gold and gems, but he could not hold back any longer and succumbed.  

[i]The chalice is missing a ruby[/i] he thought. It was an absent observation he has made countless times over while staring into the gleaming red. The remnants of the travelling sorcerer’s analytical mind occasionally even pondered the possibilities that by recovering the lost gem, the old powers of the chalice may yet be restored… rather than acting as a glorified tankard he, a dragon, drank from. 

Distant memories played forth as a haze over his eyes. A humoured curiosity over whether a dragon could, in fact, become drunk. The dragon actually snorted in brief mirth, remembering the distant experiment.

From far off, sounds of ruffling and anxious footsteps, too far for human ears sounded back following his rather loud snort. [i]Intruders.[/i] Veles’ eyes opened, and heat sprang forth across his scales, throat and chest, emanating a dull red glow across the chamber he slumbered in. The chamber now more clearly visible was half cavern and tunnel, earthly volcanic shafts dotted with treasure and ruins, and half ancient temple, long forgotten before Veles and Plethwi discovered it. Veles stood guard at the inbetwixt the temple and volcanic tunnel so that no intruder may pass into the deeper chambers of his lair… or so that one of the more particularly annoying princesses could not attempt yet another escape.

Veles sniffed the air cautiously, now fully alert as a feeling of enraged territorial defensiveness edged forth from wherever these animalistic forces within him derived… a beast-like urge that he had to constantly control else he would slaughter even his own minions, as had regrettably occurred numerous times in the past.

[i]They, two - no, three of them.[/i] They were small, human-sized yet smelt foreign, and ghastly, noxious even. Perhaps this was another attempt by Aoibheann, the ever-annoying tribal princess of some Sinn Dein tribe he once demanded tribute from. It would not be the first time she attempted an escape with the help of others… or poison. The latter subject brought a particularly bitter taste in the dragon’s mouth. 

He smelt again, in an attempt to further determine who these three were. The rational, humanlike part of his mind reminded himself that there was no conceivable way the tribal princess could reach that far away into the tunnel without passing him… particularly as his enormous form in essence blocked the entire passage. They were not the eunuch guards he used as some of his minions either, for he ensured they all consumed herbal concoctions that gave them certain… scents…

‘Ah. Yesssss…’ Veles verbally spoke, as he came to his realisation. These were outsiders, possibly emissaries or dignitaries that had coated themselves in poisons and toxins to dissuade him from… consuming them. A reminder of sorts of what he was and how the world saw him. In over a century, the people of the world have forgotten that he was even once a man, and so fear that he would eat them.

Another urge… hunger, drew itself into his mind. All-consuming hunger. 

Perhaps they were correct to fear. 

Veles stood as high as he could within the confining tunnel, coiling form unwrapping and dislodging itself from piles of gold, rugs and carpets. He walked, or perhaps lumbered through the tunnel on all fours. He had long ago learned how to move as such, and had even taught himself how to use his front limbs in arm-like ways, but he was a sedentary creature and so, despite tales of serpents and worms, agility was not one of his strengths.

His slow part-crawl, part-stomping down the tunnel generated deep shudders and booms, something he could hear was causing distress and forcing the possible-emissaries to backstep towards the tunnel entrance. While he liked to consider himself as not being as so terrible as the monster some people sing and tell stories of, there was a degree of glee he felt upon the demonstration of raw power. It was… one of the boons of Plethwi’s curse.

As a testament to the strength of his senses, it took quite some time for him to actually reach where the intruders now motionlessly stood, at the mouth of the tunnel that overlooked the cliff and rocky coast of some northern sea. He blew a burst of smoke and flame from his nostrils as he crawled out from the tunnel into the light of the midday sun. Wings flared, raised neck - it was the triumphant fanfare that he went by. 

‘Who dares speak with the great Veles?’ he rumbled. Veles looked over the three trembling men, indeed emissaries clad in bright coloured clothes and jewelry, the regalia of men of the easternmost reaches of the lands he ‘watched over’. Two bowed immediately, and the third, carrying a large plate filled with various offerings of small trinkets and food knelt low, with the plate raised.

'Most majestic and terrible overlord… guardian of all the lands from the Inner Sea to uppermost Pyrna’ The emissary started, speaking with practice even while bowing and looking down at the sand of the rocky beach. ‘I, a mere humble servant to your magnificence and your loyal vassal King Makhawon II ha-s, has come to beseech upon you… aid.’

‘Aid?’ Veles replied with absent curiosity. It was not entirely unknown for his vassals to occasionally ask of him some favour in return for the tributes they provide him - sometimes they are new foolhardy mortal kings who do not understand the nature of their relationship, other times opportunists or desperate men seeking an out. Usually he deemed these desires unworthy of him without suitable payment… but sometimes he provides his aid in whimsy if for nothing else.

‘Y-yes most gracious one. The ever-loyal King Makhawon seeks aid in battle against the Schayan barbarians. We.. we know you have previously refused this request to another king, but King Makhawon believes in your eternal and infinite wisdom and will reconsider…’ The lead emissary continued.

‘And pray tell…. Why would the most loyal King Makhawon believe I would reconsider? This small offering of trinkets and food? Or perhaps that strange bird flying above us carrying... flowers?’ Veles spoke, humouring them as he stared at the strange bird circling above them with flowers of all things. It was a strange gift of a mortal king, and he sensed something deeply odd about the bird.

The emissary, silent for some and even glanced to the bird for some reason, finally responded. ‘No, no, of course not my lord. We would not dare to presume that these lowly offerings would even barely sate you. No, rather, King Makhawon would rather, with great care and certainty, wish to inform you that the fallen city and Schayan barbarians are being aided and led by a terrible foe, a merciless beast in the form of a man… they call him Dyeus, or Dyauphater. A reckoning of thunder and death. He was the one that ordered his barbarian kin to attack’.

‘Dyeussssss…’ Veles hissed, initially in contemplation, and then recognition arose from him and his eyes sharpened in contempt. It was that ingrate barbarian fool, the one who had dared challenge him in his lair some time ago... the one that Plethwi now favoured with her accursed 'trials'. The Emissaries shudded, partly in fear that the dragon would turn on them in its rage, but also partly in triumph, for they knew that the King’s gambit had worked.

More hazy memories. A man, long ago. A young barbarian enamoured with a witch - a witch who was once his mentor, guardian, and perhaps other things. [i]Plethwi, plethwi, plethwi.[/i] It had been all too long.

‘Rejoice mortalssss, for your King’s humble request will be granted…’ Veles sneered, more at the elusive and vague image of that barbarian hero long ago than the men he was talking with.


[hider=Notes]
-Dragon likes gold and thinks about how he has over time lost his humanity to bestial instincts and urges.
-Dragon senses intruders, turns out to be emissaries who request his aid against foreign invasion by the Schayans.
-Dragon was going to refuse, but they bring out their trump card by revealing the Schayans are bringing Dyeus. Dragon is Triggered and decides to agree.
-Dragon mistakes weird bird as a gift from the emissaries rather than a magically compelled bird from a wizard he has no knowledge of, this  is likely not the end of this.
-Dragon prepares to leave

*Edits made due to Grijs' altering of his characters' backstory*
[/hider]