I.
In the depths of a tremendous mountain range, the trolls kept their most dangerous and hated prisoners. In their own hideous tongue, they called their dungeon the Mines of Torment. At the moment, only three were held captive in there; however, the Unfortunates, as they were called, would soon gain a new inmate. The trolls here were not only disgusting, vain, and hateful like their brethren, but bloodthirsty and violent…as a result, their most wanted consisted of only the most noble and heroic of beings in the magical world. Of course, this should come as no surprise: the very definition of evil is to reject all goodness, just as goodness is to accept love.
Created to hold those with great power, skill, and cunning, the Mines of Torment were laced with power-dampening enchantments which could render even the warlock Emrys no more magical than a simple magician. The trolls considered themselves very clever for this, considering the recent annulment of Uther Pendragon's ban on magic. More and more creatures of magic and wonder have exited from hiding, and nearly all of them had sworn devotion to their "liberator", Queen Guinevere. The problem for the trolls lay in these creatures' attempts to protect helpless mortals from evils which had also risen. As a rule, these particular trolls actively despised happiness—after all, they gained strength from pain. That is why these practitioners of dark magic set out to capture, torture, and kill any who wished to play heroes. Finally, after trying so fervently, they captured their primary target: The Great Dragon.
Though many credited Emrys with saving the future of Albien, the wizard could never have done so much without the assistance of the most ancient voice of wisdom to walk this Earth. Or so the trolls said, in order to mask the true fear in their stone hearts.
The large, limp figure of Kilgharrah was dragged into the caverns, clearly unconscious, by ten trolls. Previously rumored to be on the brink of death, The Great Dragon apparently recovered from whatever ailed him. Emrys would have been shocked: the last time his path crossed the dragon's, the latter's appearance was lackluster at best. Now, as he faced incarceration yet again, Kilgharrah once again looked like himself. His scales shone golden, the spikes covering his spine and brows were ivory-colored, his face was lean and young, and his claws were long, curved, and sharp. His scales were harder than ever before, forming a virtually impenetrable armor around him. The three inmates—a phoenix, a hippogriff, and a unicorn—could only watch gloomily as the awe-inspiring specimen was carelessly heaved into a dank pit with a moist floor. To hear the resounding thud and see the heavy chains latched onto the cell's upper rim was to endure hopelessness itself.
"So much for the 'Great Golden Dragon'!" sneered one of the loathsome trolls as he and his comrades left the honorable reptile. They all laughed at the thought of how easily the legend was defeated: clearly, they thought, no one could match their mighty squadrons.
The dragon opened one eye to look in the trolls' direction as their echoing footsteps faded into nothingness. It was neither glazed nor pitiful, as it ought to have been; instead, it was clear, bright, and focused. Noting his position and verifying the trolls' absence, Kilgharrah opened his other eye and smiled smugly. He felt almost like chuckling.
So, he thought as he brought his golden gaze about him, these are the infamous Mines of Torment. Kilgharrah noted the dampness, the darkness, the sheer filth of it all. Mold was everywhere, and the sky was but a memory in this underground prison. The Great Dragon scratched at the floor beneath him experimentally, and he instantly regretted doing so. It was coated with a thick layer of who-knows-what and wouldn't-care-to-find-out. He suppressed the urge to squirm in disgust. Luckily, their hubris blinds them. Kilgharrah distracted himself from his surroundings by focusing on his mission. The trolls could have decided not to take any chances with me...if they were wise. His proud smirk returned. Now I have the upper hand.