Kendrick growled as he leveled the royal scepter at a cluster of rocks, willing the ancient artifact from the last great age to life. A bolt of electricity arced between the hard edges on its head before firing, blasting the obstacle out of his path. He'd been tracking the little beast for what seemed like ages, but his research, his spies, his tutors had finally led him to the beast's lair. And when he'd arrived? He found the entrance to the inner chambers, though it was little more than a collapsed pile of rubble in an archway. There was a hole in it, small enough for him to crawl through, as though he'd soil his royal garments on his hands and knees like a peasant. The young monarch-to-be figured the dragon inside has cloistered itself off to sleep through this decade and the next, but that just wasn't going to work with his timetable...

He gave the carved stone a moment to settle, finding the dragon would do no good if he got himself splattered by loose stones from his excavations, before stepping into the dark, the points of the royal scepter humming as they charged enough to glow soft blue in the stifling darkness. The first thing he noticed was the smell. Book and scholars warned him that the stench of a mighty red would be overpowering. Ash and smoke, fresh and old, from the refuse of the dragon's meals should be filling the air. But this cave was mostly breathable. There was but a hint of smoke, little more than a campsite's fire would have put off if left for the night. He furrowed his brow curiously, but pressed on into the inner chambers, letting his scepter lead the way.

The [i]drip drop[/i] of water from some unseen source echoed in the hollow, which also struck him as odd. The body of an old red should have turned any nearby trickles of water to steam ages ago, and yet here was evidence to the contrary. Had he entered the wrong lair? Was this some other beast? His knuckles turned white as he gripped the scepter more firmly, trying to sharpen his senses and figure out what he was really up against. Something smaller. Something colder. He saw the scratches of claws along the uneven floors of the place; [b]something[/b] made its home here.

He hadn't thought to enter stealthily, the sound of his hard-soled leather boots [i]click-clacking[/i] with each step, announcing his presence to the lair's inhabitant, if the scepter's glow hadn't given away his position well enough.