Guardian of the Dragon's Hoard (IrishWolf & Salander)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: IrishWolf on 20-08-2016, 17:13:20</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Guardian of the Dragon's Hoard (IrishWolf &amp; Salander)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>IrishWolf</strong> on <strong>20-08-2016, 17:13:20</strong>
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				Kyloth stumbled or at least, he pretended to, as he slowly made his way back into the commonroom of the Dancing Bear. After all, even a blond barbarian from the north, which he currently looked like, would have gotten drunk from the number of pints and jugs of beer he had been drinking. While it was true, that it would in fact take several Dwarven breweries worth of ale to get him truly drunk, no mere human could have consumed what he had and not been drunk. Nor would they have the ability to drink all night and not need to relieve themselves, which explained why the hulking human shape he wore, had stumbled outside in the first place. So he had to put on an act, to keep the locals from guessing that he was anything but a simple barbarian, down for a drink at the border city of Scorchkeep, so named for the rebuilt fortress, which had been burned down by dragon fire. It's said, when it rains, you can still smell the brimstone. <br><br>In the greatest sense of irony, he had been the very dragon, who had burned down the keep, all those centuries ago and now this was one of his favorite towns of the lesser races. Of course, this could be because the city was located on a major trade route, which trafficked in Elven wines, Dwarven ales and Human spirits. All of which, the dragon had come to enjoy and thus why he let it appear as if he slept up in the mountains and left the rich caravans alone. Of course, it wasn’t the same on the other sides of the mountains but they didn’t have the ability to appease him with drink, like this side could, not that they knew that was the reason for the relative calm of the fire drake in the mountains. <br><br>Leaving his lair for so long however, did cause Kyloth some mental anguish. Like all of his kin, he was always worried about thieves, when he left his lair. So he would seal the caves up with with layers of enchantments, which would last until he returned to slumber upon the piles of riches. Unfortunately, this kind of protection magic didn’t work when he was at home but then again, he was there to deal with heroes and burglars. Not that his being there, always meant that his treasures were safe, Nearly a decade before, someone, human or elven or some other creature, had slipped into his caves and stolen a mighty sword, the enchanted blade forged by the elves, at the dawning of the world. <br><br>When he had discovered the theft, the mountains had burned with his wrath, as he scoured the slopes with his fire. The peoples of the villages and towns in the valleys and forests about his range, had cowered in their cellars or fled, fearing the wyrm of lore, who had made such a terrible name for himself in the youth of the world, had awoken once again, to destroy them all. He nearly had, but they were spared when he finally controlled his anger. He wanted the thief and sword and whoever had sent the thief. Burning insignificant villages would gain him what he wanted. No, that would only draw in heroes and priests or worse of all, crusading paladins, convinced their faith would slay him. Just annoyances were not worth his time but he would forever remember the smell of the thief. <br><br>Kyloth or rather Kag, as his human barbarian form was called, was just getting back to the large jug of dwarven ale, when the tavern door opened. He wasn’t paying attention to whoever walked in but the slight stirring of the night breeze, brought a scent to his nose. A scent he would never forget, for it was the very one he had smell in his hoard, when the sword went missing. Had the thief returned? Bright blue eyes glanced over the lip of the jug, as his nose worked, trying to match who it was, with their smell. 
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