It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Vex Vex'ahlia, a half-elf ranger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They agree they will return in two weeks with word or else the Ravenites will go to Vorugal. They visit the lair of the dragon and find one of the spheres akin to those they saw in Brimscythe's lair; they don't mess with it.
DM: You're led past a couple of these stone structures and there is a central, open circular plot between a lot of these. There's a fountain that seems to spring a very clean source of water within the center of this chamber. Beyond that, there is a larger temple-like square structure that has a slight trapezoidal appearance to it. The entranceway is an open arch, and you can see a large fire burning on the inside of it. You are led around the fountain and led to the inside. There, sitting on a large stone seat made of haphazard bits of rock and stone, it looks relatively uncomfortable, a large stone throne, there is a female dragonborn. She wears long, drab, gray robes, tattered at the edges, a hood loosely pulled back and a large scarf or wrap around her neck and shoulders. She just sits there with her hands over the side, draped, and as you walk in and your eyes adjust you can see that she looks very old. As you're brought in, the rest of your crew still pushes you in with the spears. She leans forward. "Are these prisoners of ours?" The dragonborn who brought you in goes, "They are, for the time being. They say they come here because the Frigid Doom and other dragons who came are killing their people, as well. They have come to fight the dragon, or so they claim. They walked in under guise of our enemy. It is your wisdom to make these choices." And the larger dragonborn bows his head and steps away, the spears pull back and they step, blocking the exits that you walked through; the entire archway now is shoulder to shoulder dragonborn with spears at the ready.
Player: Tooma. We apologize for coming in the guise of your enemies. Unfortunately, we don't know much about your culture, and no one ever informed us of what you have suffered, and we apologize.
DM: Make a persuasion check.
Player: 23?
DM: You're saying this in Draconic, I assume? She leans in a bit, and the firelight crackles under her chin, and you can see the teeth on one side pull out beyond the lip, and it gives her this lopsided look. The tongue wipes across the front, and she leans in toward you. "You come here to fight the Frigid Doom, you say?"
Player: Yes.
DM: "I would be lying if I said it did not bring a chance for freedom to all of us Ravenites."
Player: Much deserved.
DM: "But as time progresses, I fear we shake one bond to step into another. The dragon presented itself as our savior, but has since required an ever-growing fealty."
Player: They do that.
DM: "Without the Draconians, without the Sky-walkers, and without the Doom, we would be free. Rebuild our culture."
Player: I want nothing more for you than that. Let us help you.
DM: Now, the rest of you hear this "Do your friends speak Common?"
