Clicks echo through the den of Nightmare’s humble castle, one of which had been abandoned by humans all those centuries ago. The black goopy dragon’s hoard of jewels and old books ever growing.

There he sat, a dragon of old, bored, surrounded by all his treasures. His one remaining eye lazily locked on a book in his claws. Though he sensed someone nearby, unlike his subordinate or brother. But another who finds refuge in his domain.