The terrain’s gentle slopes turned jagged and hard. Rocky hills met together into a tall, sharp peak that overlooked the greens of the earth. A few pines circled around the high cliff, veiling a crack that existed between them. A pit, deep and dark, dug into the ground. The trees shivered and rocked as the giant Yvedawn hovered over them, her flight from Mattervon almost complete. No later could she have arrived, for her petite wings were losing strength rapidly. She descended into the hole, bringing with her the four adventurers she had obtained.

Only the daylight, dwindling as it was, brought light into the cavern from the hole Yvedawn entered. The space opened into a wide chamber, its edges concealed in darkness while just the center was illuminated. Cool air remained mostly stagnant until Yvedawn had appeared, creating billowing winds that threw about dust from the corners. She landed with a great sigh of relief, and immediately her wings fell to either side of her, limp as sheets.

Through her panting, Yvedawn addressed her captives, “Welcome to… your new home…! Oh, oh what a horrible distance it was...” A smile stretched across her lips, raising up the prizes she held. Grayson and Trea were decent additions, but Daemon was the prize she had set out to steal. She admired him, at least, as best she could; in the same hand that held Daemon was also Trea, pressed against him and getting in the way.

Without comment, Yvedawn discarded Trea and Grayson onto the ground without much concern. Both were dropped and fell harshly to the cave floor, but Daemon remained in her possession. Two claws cuddled him on all sides, a rather comfortable hold despite his shaking and squirming.

“You appear so frightened, Daemon,” Yvedawn teased, poking Daemon’s stomach with a nail. She giggled at the way he was tickled, but she was clearly out of breath. “Back where you belong… Fufu, did you truly believe you could get away? Foolish, foolish…”

Daemon shielded himself from that heavy gaze on top of him, turning in Yvedawn’s palms so he could inspect the others. Trea was back onto her feet, but Grayson was slower under all of his armor. Despite his concern, Daemon also feared their judgement — between the guild leaders and the dragon, he could only sweat profusely.

Grayson grunted, finally standing and already with his hand on his blade. He shot a look to Trea, ensuring she was stable as well, then looked to where she stared. Trea pointed to under Yvedawn, “Thrakk!” The brute was there, her arms clamped tight around the dragon’s tail as it idly shifted. A groan escaped her as she undid her grip and fell to the floor. It wasn’t the best landing, but nothing compared to the numbness in her arms.

Thrakk rose to her feet without complaint. Instead, there was a chuckle, a very tired chuckle, “I… I flew… I flew! On a dragon!” She hunched forward with laughter, her arms just noodles at either side of her. “I could have died! Hah! Trea, Grayson, looks like you two held up--”

Boom. Thrakk was gone, disappeared under Yvedawn as she fell into a seat there on the floor. Without the stamina to reflexively dodge, Thrakk was simply sat on, without even a chance to squeak out to her companions. Trea gasped and Grayson drew his sword, but Yvedawn merely sighed, reclining backwards while her wings recovered.

“I am most exhausted!” Yvedawn whined, rolling her head back while a trail of pink hair followed like a banner. “But… we are here! All together!” She looked to Daemon, lifting him over her face. Although he was definitely secure within the hand, he still hugged a pair of fingers as tightly as he could. Yvedawn snickered, “No thoughts of escape this time, Daemon? I see you have no want to let go of me now, fufu~”

“N-No, none at all, no thoughts of escape,” Daemon nervously replied. It wasn’t quite a lie, as he thought that if there was a way to escape, he couldn’t think of it himself. Yvedawn was a giant dragon, bumbling as she may be, and he and the Tides of Blakewood were prisoners in her lair -- an escape did not spell itself out . He had managed to leave her cave once, of course, but this was not the same chamber. There were no piles of gold in this wider space, only aged columns where the darkness began. He assumed this was likely a deeper part of her cavern, which meant that getting out would be that much more troublesome.

A metallic stomp pulled Yvedawn’s focus from Daemon and down to her other captives. Grayson had marched forward, his blade steady in both hands as it erected towards the dragon. “Up!” he demanded of her, a flick of his head to signal his command. “Rise now, beast! For The Goddess Weeps, you’re sitting on my strongest warrior like a pillow!”

Yvedawn raised a brow, crossing her legs into an x-shape as if to wall off Grayson’s approach. She had forgotten all about Thrakk until she was mentioned, at which point, Yvedawn still did not budge. “A warrior so strong, they can be defeated by being sat upon?” she giggled, her free hand vaguely trying to hide her smile. Her head rose arrogantly, “I did not invite this guest, so this trouble is of their own~ If they so wish to be let free from under me, then-- Yeeyyhohh!!”

Suddenly, the dragon was up in the air, her burst of motion rocking dust and gravel within the cave. She had hopped into a standing position, craned over as she massaged her rear. There was a tear in her eye from the sharp pain she had just endured, whatever may have  caused it. Where her seat had once been, Thrakk laid flat-out on her back, wiping her mouth as she toiled to sit up.

“Not the worst ass I’ve eaten,” Thrakk coughed. She stuttered into some laughs, “Grayson! Remember that time with the dire boar? That was the worst ass I’ve--”

“You bit me?!” Yvedawn gasped, whipping around with her mouth agape and her cheeks flushed. She winced, feeling the stinging pain on her left cheek. “That was… That hurt!”

Thrakk spat while in a crawl up to her feet. “Should’ve grown scales there, then.”

Yvedawn groaned while situating herself, using a broken column to support herself. She looked to Daemon in the hand propped against the column, noticing his distress from all the jumping. Before she could say something -- swish -- an arrow flew just past her face. She leaned away from where the projectile had missed her, then shot a glare at her attacker. Trea had her bow aimed and another arrow in her finger to be notched.

“Release him, Yvedawn,” Trea warned. The use of the dragon’s name, she hoped, could reason with the monster slightly better. The string of her bow whined as it was stretched back, “We wish to leave peacefully. I warn you to not corner us to use violence.”

Yvedawn scoffed. “Daemon arrived here of his own volition. I reclaimed him when he went missing. You cannot demand that I forfeit my property!” Daemon complained, but no one heard him.

Grayson growled, his patience surpassed. He charged ahead in a sprint, his sword swayed to the side for a hard horizontal cut. Yvedawn raised one foot to avoid the strike, but it was a feint -- Grayson’s blade glided into the other foot, chopping into the scaled skin as if shattering into armor.

“Graahhhaaa!!” Yvedown howled, nearly tripping backwards as her heel had been sliced into, partially. Grayson undug his blade from the beast, but was then immediately kicked into. He was stomped on by the very foot he attacked, knocked onto his back and fitted perfectly underfoot. Fortunately, his refined armor protected him from the blunt force, but that still left him in a harsh position. “H-How unruly! This is my home you attack me in!”

Grayson was not alone on this offensive. Just after him was Thrakk, running with as much speed and with her hammer swung overhead. A leap forward, and the head of her weapon came whistling down with Thrakk’s weight behind it. The floor shook as it struck hard into one of Yvedawn’s claws.

“Oooaarr!!” Another strange noise erupted from Yvedawn. She hobbled backwards, attempting the same evasive maneuver as before, but with even worse balance. Her heel sliced and a claw flattened, two steps backwards was all it took to have the dragon stumbling into a fall. Yvedawn crashed onto her rear, her head slamming against the jagged rocks of the cave wall.

During the commotion, Daemon was fumbled from Yvedawn’s clutches. He was released as she tripped onto her ass, which was far from the escape he desired. Rather than fall hard to the floor, he managed to grapple some of Yvedawn’s pink hair like rope, and used as much to swing onto her body. When she clashed into the wall, the shake threw off his grip, and he rolled down the long torso. His fingers clenched at bare skin in order to halt himself, which he did so just at her waist. Situated awkwardly on her lap, Daemon was too dazed to move himself further from that position, just as Yvedawn had been firmly seated when she landed.

Grayson, having been relieved of Yvedawn’s stomp, had swiftly stabilized himself, back on his feet and ready for another round. His eyes did not leave Yvedawn as he barked at Thrakk, “Ljós? You brought her?”

“Almost forgot about her, heh,” Thrakk chuckled, reeling her hammer to be over her shoulder. She stared back at her shadow, nodding her head at it. “Come on! You’re missing all the fun!”

A furious growl forewarned an attack on Thrakk and Grayson. Yvedawn’s anger was overflowing as she picked up a crumbled chunk of a column beside her and threw it at her foes. The boulder flew through the air with its impressive weight, but both warriors dashed away. Crash, an explosion of rubble and dust scattered from where the stone slammed into the floor. Yvedawn cursed her accuracy and reached for another projectile, still sat into the corner she had fallen in.

“Who do you think you are?! I-I’ll crush you all…!” the dragon threatened, but the shiver in her tone hinted at her insecurity. Another piece of a column was located, but before it could be tossed at the guild, Yvedawn took notice of smoke that had appeared. There was no scent to this inky blackness, and it did not fill the room like a normal gas. It swirled slowly and only around Yvedawn’s head, persisting there even when she blew a breath at it and swatted it with her hand. “Is this a trick?” she wondered aloud. She sniffed and detected not an odor, but the presence of magic.

The smoke gathered then into one contained shape hovering in the air. It condensed and took form like malleable clay, eventually creating the silhouette of a body. Once all of the smoke had been collected, a person was fully there, a woman garbed in a robe as flowing and dark as the fog she controlled. A wildly tall hat was worn and silver hair fell from out of it, both functioning to hide her face. All but the golden spark of her eyes could be seen from this shadowy figure, and her sights were upon the astonished Yvedawn. From Thrakk’s shadow had Ljós been conjured into the battle.

Ljós aimed an arm forward, effortlessly channeling magic to her palm. Yvedawn scoffed at her, “Another human? Just what could one more of you do…?” Under her black veil, Ljós’s confidence was unwavering. Suddenly, there was a blinding flash centered from her palm, and a magical blast rippled through the chamber. A negative energy struck Yvedawn and drained her of her energy, allowing only enough strength to gasp and push back into the cavern’s corner.

“You were mistaken,” Ljós lectured, unphased by neither the light nor the dark. She watched Yvedawn dizzily blink and lose balance, confirming that the spell had succeeded. As she hovered gently to the ground, Ljós remained poise and elegant. “I am no human, but an elf.”

“A-An… elf…?” Yvedawn winced, still struggling with the bizarre onset of sleep. Her head bobbed to one side, and that half of her wished to fall that way altogether. She whined, “But h-how…? How could… an elf be h-here…?”

It was an unwinnable battle against the magical fatigue that plagued her. Heavier and heavier did Yvedawn feel, especially in her eyes, and before long, her sway to the left lead her to falling over completely. It was an ungraceful way to land, a hard hit into the ground, but Yvedawn was so huge and so tired that she merely passed out without a care. There was a mutter, perhaps one last complaint she had reserved, but it left her as a snore.

Ljós studied the beast, primarily the closed eyes and breathing. “A curious specimen,” she acknowledged mostly to herself, but Grayson was then behind her, patting her pauldron encouragingly as he passed. “Beware,” she warned him, “for her slumber will cease shortly. Her mass dilutes the effects, but furthermore, her blood--”

“She is a dragon,” Grayson interrupted. He took her warning to heart, however, and readied his hand on his blade. “At least she claims to be one. Dragons were immune to many magics, were they not?”

“... So history has suggested,” Ljós replied, her skepticism not so hidden. “But no record or myth has suggested a dragon of this shape or design. No image that I have personally referenced bears any resemblance to this… girl.”

“Monsters are monsters,” Thrakk rambled into the conversation. “What’s important is we can all leave, am I right? Just another evening with the Tides, hah!”

A flame brought light past where it poured in from the entrance above. “Well, we cannot leave without everyone,” Trea said, approaching the others with a makeshift torch in hand.

Thrakk raised a brow, “Everyone is here, Trea! It was just the four of us.”

“The boy?” Trea pointed with the torch to a part of Yvedawn’s collapsed body. Thrakk was directed to her legs, and her thighs in particular -- there was a rumble of movement between them, and then the flapping of a desperate hand. In all the commotion, Daemon had little sway over his predicament, and thus he had been trapped between Yvedawn’s thighs when she had tumbled over into sleep. Try as he might to escape, the weight was too strong, and only his hand could signal for help. Thrakk laughed hardily, but Trea elbowed her in the ribs. “He could very well suffocate.”

“That’s the funniest part,” Thrakk sighed, on her way to assist Daemon. She grabbed the hand without warning and pulled, stopping short of making much progress. “Woo, he’s wedged deep in there.” A second attempt with both hands proved more successful, and after a long pull, Daemon’s head was released, flushed red from a lack of oxygen. In his gasps for air, he had Thrakk giggling over him, “Good! You’re coming out! I thought I’d sooner end up snapping your arm off!”

“You… almost… did…!” Daemon griped, still squirming in his efforts to be freed. He groaned, “You oaf… Is there not a better way…?”

“Nope. Just this.” Thrakk returned to her efforts dutifully, grabbing the newly exposed parts of Daemon with graceless form. Into her bosom went his head while her arms dug under his armpits, and with both legs kicked into the wall-like thighs did she make her best attempt yet. It was slow, embarrassing, and painful, but Thrakk’s process was gradually working.

Yvedawn’s eyes showed the first signs of activity. Immediately, the gleam of steel flashed in front of her, and she felt the cold tip at her throat. Still weary from the spell, Yvedawn only loosely comprehended that Grayson had taken a stand on her neck, his blade cast down at her with both hands gripping it. She blinked -- not only him, but the witch was there as well. She stood in front of her fallen face, admiring any information she could obtain, and certainly ready to whip a spell if need be.

Grayson held his balance while Yvedawn stirred awake. “Yield, beast, yield!” he commanded, emphasizing his point by urging the blade deeper into her neck’s skin. Properly intimidated, Yvedawn stopped her groggy movements. “In more ways than one could we claim your life, and we have just as many reasons to! How do you atone for the kidnapping of myself and my guild? How do you atone for the destruction caused at Mattervon?”

Yvedawn grimaced under her situation, most insulted by how Grayson’s boot was planted into her neck. She snarled, “Atonement is a human concept! I am beyond such things. I am a dragon! A-And you are in my lair!”

“And here in your lair is where you will be slain,” Grayson threatened. “You are a danger to these lands, that much has been proven. Your recklessness nearly brought tragedy upon an innocent village. Why should we not behead such a menace?”

“It was Daemon who--!” Yvedawn raised her voice, but her volume was halved when she felt the point of Grayson’s sword push deeper. She swallowed and continued, “Daemon stole from me…! I was claiming my treasure back!”

“Hah! Does Daemon shimmer like gold as well? He was no treasure from your horde and yet you rampaged to steal him away. Dare I mention that your stolen treasures are not here, but left behind at the tavern? Do not lie to me about what drove you to this.”

Yvedawn winced, stabbed by the truth. She hadn’t even realized it herself that, for all this trouble over some treasure, she never thought much about the goods themselves. From the beginning, it had been about Daemon and keeping him prisoner. It had seemed like an acceptable idea, for a dragon at least, but with Grayson’s boots pressed into her, stumbled over and humiliated, she wondered why it had mattered so much to her to begin with.

“I… did not w-wish to be alone anymore…” Yvedawn sniffled. “Daemon was… the first… to venture into my lair…”

Grayson huffed, “A poor excuse. The minds of monsters simply cannot be understood.” He raised his blade and picked a mark to strike. “Too great a threat is posed to innocent people with your being here. Farewell, dragon...”