Anger. Rage. The fire of a thousand thousand years of pure, unadulterated Fury swirled within him as he slept. The dragon within wanted release. It wanted to be sated. It wanted to pour its flame into the world and bathe in the ashes.
Hey, look, someone’s tied up.
Voices. The darkness receded, the dragon growled in frustration as the man took control once more, pressing the rage down deep, deep inside, where it could do no harm.
No, that’s the Dancer fellow, he was in town a few days back. I thought he’d moved on.
In town. That’s right. What was it’s name? His thoughts were becoming clearer, but it was obvious he’d been drugged. Or beaten. Or something.
The bonds around his hand were cut loose and the blindfold lifted. He blinked in the bright light. Well, brighter than anything he’d seen for days.
He sat up, rubbing his wrists. They weren’t chaffed like they should have been with him being so tied. His skin was tougher than that, now.
The light glistened off the scales on his back, shoulder and forearms. They weren’t pervasive, they didn’t cover every patch of skin, and they were small, but they were there, and they made it look like his body was sprinkled with rubies. He usually kept them hidden under makeup when he wasn’t performing, a feat that was difficult when most of them were on his back. Either way, there was no use trying to hide them now. Especially not after being captured.
Rage the dragon inside seemed to say. It’s constant push to let his temper loose was almost a comfort.
“This your stuff?” Came a question from one of the women.
His stuff. Yes. He smiled warmly at the woman and reached for it, rummaging though his pack, but not finding what he was looking for. His Alchemist Supplies were gone, as were his vials. He’d need those back.
“Thank you. There were other things in here,” he said, looking up to the others. “Do you know what happened to them?”
“Big magic lizard guy rummaged through everyone’s stuff, taking what he wanted,” one of the men said. “He liked to stay in the pit. Could be he took your things down there.”
Drake nodded, standing.
He stood over six feet tall, his shoulders broad and his bare chest sporting a well defined, muscular physique. He attached the flute case to his pack and slung it over his shoulder. He looked to the people around him, villagers he half knew from days spent in taverns and nights spent performing in the streets.
Burn them!
Drake crackle his neck, forcing the dragon down further. “Thank you for your help. I have some payback to grant. Get somewhere safe, if you can.”
He headed out of the tent and towards the pit.