It was then, through dazed eyes, one caked shut with dried blood from where he had split the skin of his crown, that Handy was able to take in where he was. There was treasure everywhere: weapons, gold, gems, fine armours, tapestries, and art and statuary as far as the eye could see. Fine spices and incense and other pleasing smells rose up from over a hundred different points of the cavern, enough to rouse anyone from the deepest sleep. Or it would have been pleasant and awakening if it wasn’t for the absolutely rancid smell that assaulted his nostrils and threatened to choke him. Looking down, he saw he was being restrained, though his insensate body and swimming head barely registered it, the pressure was noticeable when he became aware of it. He was in a claw, a gigantic dragon’s claw. That was bad, but it was taking his shaken brain some time to process exactly why.