((You are a Lord in the kingdom of Britsnarl. A country of humans and dragons. Your lands are right along the segregation line between the two. To the north are the dratcons. Humans that worship and revered dragons so much that they through magic try to be like dragons in every way. To the point where they are covered in scales, with tails, claws, horns, even lay eggs. Their race has completed their transformation.)) You were about to sit down for dinner, when a knock comes on the door. Your servants open the doors to reveal two dratcon women. One short and pregnant, the other tall, and built like a warrior. "Your honor." The tall one says with a deep feminine voice. "We are here to discuss something of dire need. Please, we need your help."