The sun lurking over the far-off horizon had begun to set as Keligastrimask returned to his mountainous lair. The red dragon, chiefest subspecies of the chromatic dragons, was an adult specimen of a healthy and physically fit, but still somewhat youthful quality. As his massive wings beat rapidly to carry his gigantic, scaly body through the blue sky, wind and air were pushed back by the muscular appendages, practically creating a draft of their own. The mountain he headed to itself was a large formation of nature standing alone above a forest full of colorful autumn trees, and overlooked a large, clear lake where he occasionally visited to quench his thirst.
His mind kept thinking with glee of how good of a day it was for him today. As he spent most of it surveying his far-reaching territory, he happened upon a traveling horse-drawn wagon and its rider, and reacted as he usually did with this kind of intrusion. After unleashing a torrent of flame that burned the wagon to a crisp, he filled his belly with the perfectly-cooked horse and merchant and stole away what material possessions that survived his searing flames. More gold to add to his already-impressive fortune, if he did say so himself. As with all red dragons, he had a particularly strong and stubborn greed for absolutely anything worth a monetary value, and gold, among other things, was one of his favorites.
Shiny, treasured gold.
A wide and mirthful grin, showing off his white, sharp fangs, emerged on his long, reptilian snout as he gracefully (for a dragon, anyhow) landed upon the rocky surface of his cave's entrance, scattering pebbles and stray bits of rock with a final sweep of his wings. With one foreclaw still held close to his side, the freshly-pilfered goods resting inside of his palm, Keligastrimask folded his wings neatly behind his back. Flicking his long, powerful tail once, he slunk inside where his patiently-awaiting stash of treasure rested.
After a scant few seconds of motion he finally reached his favorite spot in this entire world. The glittering bed of gold, jewels, and the occasional gem-studded weapon or armor sat like a pool of water, waiting for him to bask in its wondrous sheen. All of it was taken from the neighboring town sitting within his territory, trading caravans, and the few fools who dared to try and get too close to his domain. All of it was his. He had encountered but two other dragons that encroached upon his land looking for a place of their own; neither of them more than idiot wyrmlings that didn't last against his superior might, barely standing a chance.
Dropping the newest addition to his collection into it with a small clatter of the coins, he practically jumped into the hoard and shamelessly began to utterly wallow in it, murmuring a booming chuckle that reverberated from within the deepest recesses of his flame-spewing throat. He completely buried himself within the pile of precious metals and gemstones, only to pop his ruby-red, black-horned head out of it and lazily close his glimmering yellow eyes. Hot smoke exited his nostrils in a small cloud as he exhaled a sigh of faux-contentment that surely wouldn't last more than a day before his hunger to expand his wealth would surely get the better of him.
As he got comfy in his pile, his eyes opened slightly and looked around his spacious lair for something else that might pique his interest. They looked to the beautiful treasure that covered most of it, they glanced to the rock walls, and they stared up at the stalactite-riddled ceiling, before inevitably drifting back down to the gold. Keligastrimask felt nothing but pride for himself and what he had accomplished so far in his lifetime. He had hatched from an egg so many years ago as a naive infant, and grown into a strong and clever adult with the greatest material company any of his kind longed for, yet few really gained.
For what better treasure in this plane of existence was there than this?
Syvanarosk, currently veiled in the form of a female human bearing a yellowish-brown, hooded cape over her thin body, walked slowly through the town of Idiskand. Her green eyes, still bearing a small glow that left a subtle hint as to what being she truly was, looked everywhere as she scanned her surroundings.
The wood covering several intact houses was scorched and black like charcoal, and that was without speaking of the houses left in burned ruin. The stench of sulfur, though greatly aged, still hung heavy in the air, clinging to it like a wretched parasite. The disguised bronze dragon sighed dejectedly, truly saddened by the carnage that remained from the last assault endured by this place and only feeling it increasing as she saw the poor and pitiable citizens pass her by; each one looking at her with frightful and anxious eyes at having a stranger in their midst. Syvanarosk knew another dragon had done this, and it was a chromatic one. From the smell alone, she knew that of all the chromatic dragons to stain this particular country, it was a red one.
The chromatic dragons; descended from the accursed and damnable spawn of the evil draconid goddess Tiamat, were all incomparably vile beings. Their passions were unlike the noble and good nature of the metallic dragons, if not the complete opposite. All they ever felt was selfishness, avarice, violence, and the need to cause as much depression-inducing destruction as their blind and irrational hatred could muster within their pitch-black hearts.
Syvanarosk herself, being a bronze dragon, fit happily into the metallic dragon category. Also due to her precise species, she was inherently a being who sought to use her power to bring other, more foul creatures to justice. She was also quite active for most of her kind, for she scoured the world restlessly in search of any wickedness to defeat and imprison, or - at the most extreme - put down for good. Now, after receiving word from passing caravans of the struggles that went on here at the last city she made her temporary residence in, it was this town that had caught her full attention. And upon being no less than ten minutes into this place, she had seen all the terrible problems it was cursed with.
Shortly after having a look at the place, she was in the town hall, speaking with the mayor of Idiskand. The man was a stout and balding human with a pot belly that was hidden beneath the folds of his green-textured clothing; his attire itself fit for one in such a political position, but not showcasing any form of extreme wealth most humans in leadership positions were known for. Despite sending him a message beforehand foretelling of her arrival, when Syvanarosk arrived and made her presence known to him he began to sweat profusely in worry of what manner of being he was speaking to, even with all the times afterword that she comforted him with words of meaning him or his town no harm. Eventually he did calm down, and he invited her to dinner to discuss things.
"How long has he been terrorizing this place?" Syvanarosk asked over the classically prepared human meal consisting of a mixture of meat-and-bread food that sat in front of her.
The man, having not touched a single thing on his plate since sitting down at the large, round table, held his fingers in a tent when not actively brushing them through his black mustache. "For almost a year-and-a-half now," he soon replied. "The beast is a menace unlike any other that has come to Idiskand. Save for you, I've never seen a live dragon until he showed up out of the blue one day, and I had no idea that they could get to a size such as what I've witnessed first-hand. Neither did I know they were so fiercely... intelligent as well."
Syvanarosk put her chalice down after taking a sip of the wine it held and placed a finger to her chin. "He's been extorting your people for what they have, has he not?"
The mayor nodded glumly. "According to the 'deal' he set forth, he demands to be given a set amount of gold once every month in exchange for our lives. I've been forced to tax the town dry to keep him from burning it down, and I'm thankful to the gods that my people have not rebelled against this action yet. The dragon will occasionally fly over from his home in the way-off Mount Idrasange and spit one or two flames upon some of the buildings in order to let us know that he is still alive and well, but only once before has he ever caused destruction of a significant scale."
"And what caused this?" A hint of curiosity was in her tone as she asked.
"My subordinates have agreed that it was something akin to a frustrated tantrum. We know not what caused it, but when it occurred was last spring. We rebuilt and moved on as best as we could."
Syvanarosk hummed to herself as she mulled things over, allowing silence to come between the and herself. Sighing upon coming to a conclusion she liked most and rubbing a pale-skinned hand through the short brown hair her polymorphed human form possessed, she stood up from her seat with a squeak of its skinny legs over the wooden floor.
"If you will excuse me, kind sir, I must retreat and plan out my strategy. Knowing red dragons, he will have his own well-prepared and thoroughly thought-out strategies for battles of most kinds," she spoke, bowing respectfully to the mayor. "I hope you get yourself a good night's rest and look to the future, for the next time we meet, your conundrum will be quelled. I bid you farewell."
"And... you as well, dragon," said the mayor, nodding back. Keeping her mostly expressionless face, Syvanarosk propped her hood back over her head and made her way to the door, where she exited into the night street with a dreadful creaking of old hinges.