• He pulls a log from a pile of ancient wood that looked as if it had formerly held the ceiling up. Dwarven support systems aren't usually constructed well, but the runes embedded on them are strong. He drew heat from his body and used it to light the log on fire with a brilliant display of sparks.
     
    Crassus Natel was supposed to be an assassin. Settling affairs between countries for money, taking care of people, that's what you'd think. No, it's not. That's what Crassus thought it would be like. He instead finds himself in a former Dwarf mine leading to an abandoned military strong-hold that was constructed after the mountain had been completely tapped for ore.  When they evacuated they extended a shaft up to the ground, the Dwarves actually include this as a standard design for an easy escape method.  Now a dragon lives here. There's supposedly treasure though, and Crassus gets a percentage once it's found. The only problem is the dragon.
     
    The assassins are also behind the strings of the only banking system in existence. Crassus was a thug against the banks debtors initially, but he was deemed skillful enough to cover other areas of the guilds interests handling tasks. The tasks that had a lower life expectancy rate.
     
    He walked through the tunnel, down into the earth, occasionally ducking and crawling when the inconsistent height of the tunnels made it necessary. Finally he reached a barrier after quite some time. He was unable to make any progress what so ever, and he thought to himself.
     
    "What was that word that would open this?" He debated in his mind and finally concluded and said, "Neshtek" he had to rather grunt it, that is how Dwarves speak. To someone who didn't know, it would barely sound like speech at all, more like someone infected with the plague dying, or someone choking or being strangled to death. He crawled out into the darkness. His pseudo torch lit nothing but the emptiness of the vast chamber. In the distance, he saw nothing and felt eerily alone. "Kavta!" he yelled, and it echoed for an eternity against the hollow chamber. It finally stopped and out of nothing there was light adorning the walls, so bright it was as if they had held stars on them. Crassus shielded his eyes and dropped, it was painful to look out of them until they became adjusted to the light that blinded him. When he recovered he made out an extremely large oak double door, at least twice his size in height, four in width. He tried to push them open to no avail. He thought for a moment and again said, "Neshtek!" It did nothing, "Of course," he muttered under his breath, "That would only be easy." He leaned against the doors central split, and they began to move apart.
     
    He turned around and was greeted with the tremendous face of a dragon. He was prepared to die at that moment, you don't expect to live under those circumstances. He then noticed he wasn't dead. 100 years in darkness had made the dragons' vision adapt to it's surroundings. Not only was the dragon blind for all consents and purposes, the light actually hurt it, much more so than it hurt Crassus, and for longer. If it had not been for the light, the dragon, despite the fact that dragons don't actually need to eat, probably would have eaten Crassus. They don't excrete waste, either. They are only seen eating as defense, and no one has any idea of what happens to the remains of anything it has eaten, they're simply not there. Instead of a stomach, they have an explosive sack filled with strange air. It actually feels lighter with the gas in it that without it. Also, dragons naturally eat a type of sparking rock, it is believed this rock gives them the ability to breathe fire, though no one is sure how or why.
     
    It was a standard cave dragon, four claw talons on its feet for digging, with a short neck and a spiked tail. Crassus knew the neck was as strong as steel, so he went for the tail first.
     
    He ran at the beast, the dragon heard him and let out a swipe. He dodged it and jumped on the dragons back. The dragon swung his tail down to strike him off because Crassus dug the claw attached to his left arm in the beast, and it missed as Crassus swung himself away from it.
     
    He needed perfect timing, and at the sight of the dragons hand he jumped. A swiped claw barely scraped him and he fell back on to the floor. The dragon was alert and Crassus almost met a fiery death but he rolled over and was close enough to not be effected by the conical shape of the dragons' breath.
     
    Crassus got on his feet bu pushing off the ground. The dragon roared and stood on its hind legs. That's when Crassus saw the chest, he then flew against the wall of the chamber as the dragon slammed it's feet to the ground in front of him. His back hit first then his head. He laid there for a moment, wondering what to do, what's in the chest, will he live, can he win, if so how?
     
    He stood up and rushed at the dragon, it looked up, ready to volley a river of flame down upon Crassus, but Crassus knew better. He jumped and dug his right claw into the dragons' neck. The great beast shook his neck to get him off, but Crassus was stuck in tight. It whipped its neck around until the claw broke off and he flew next to the chest.
     
    A hell of a lot lighter than he expected, he picked it up and started to run with it. He looked back, turned around and blocked with the chest. The dragons swipe demolished the chest with one fell swoop. As the chest exploded and Crassus pushed back, he grabbed the only two things in a universe full of splinters expanded exponentially. The dragon lunged and he dove away and remained silent and unmoving. He had to think of a plan, quickly. It didn't take long for the dragon to sniff him out. Crassus got to his knees and lifted the sword when the flame came at him, and it split, barely nicking him.
     
    He stood and looked at the beast, Crassus smirked and ran at it. It lit the room with it's fiery breath, Crassus came out unscathed. It swung it's claw down, cutting Crassus' arm and dislocating it. He fell on his back. As the dragon prepared to attack again, Crassus thrust his right hand at the dragon. The sword cut the dragons' soft underbelly open. Soft isn't exactly the case but it's not covered by scales, and the sword cut through it as if it were butter. The dragon went backwards, and he thrust the sword up again, into it's chest, and it went through. He tried to pull it out again, but couldn't.
     
    The dragon rose upon it's back legs, pulling Crassus with him. He held on to the sword for dear life, and the dragon swung at him. He held firm to the sword with his good hand, and it came with him. He flew. His left arm dangling he landed, still clutching the sword, and slid across the floor to the wall, hitting it with his back and neck.
     
    The great beast of fiery death's stomach poured blood across the giant stone floor. It lifted it's head and whipped forward and let out a poof of fire. It didn't reach Crassus. It tried again to no avail. It sniffed the ground and began to chew on stones. Crasses to the opportunity and ran at the dragon. He jumped, sword facing downward ready for the kill. The dragon snapped it's neck back. Crassus' sword landed perfectly, and pulled down a little as it stabbed under his neck just as the dragon's fire breath erupted from it's mouth. It's neck then exploded, and Crassus was shot across the room again. The dragons eyes slowly faded until they no longer had the glow of life. Crassus rushed over to the beast. He drank the water from his canteen and dumped the rest out. He filled it back with the dragon's blood, it was worth a fortune. He then took a few steps and collapsed.
     
    He woke up surrounded by blood. At first Cr5ato believed it to be his own, but soon realized that was dragons blood, the colour was slightly different, and there's no way he could have let out that much blood and still be awake, let alone alive. He sat up and realized his left arm was completely nonfunctional. He found a piece of the chest, bit down on it and used his right hand to put his left arm in its socket. It took multiple tries and he let out screams of agony during each of them.
     
    Crassus collapsed on his back, reveling in the agonizing pain. He felt weak but knew he couldn't be. If he were to succumb to his injuries, it would mean his death. He reached into his shirt under his armor plate. There he kept three vials, a potion for strength, health, and one for death. The health potion wouldn't help, it takes too long to activate, and costs too much to replace. He took the potion known as bottled adrenaline to his mouth. One gulp and moment later he was cutting scales off the lizard and stuffing them into his backpack. When it was full he used the sword to ply the canines from the dragons gums in its mouth.
     
    He left the chamber and walked toward a large door. "How the ******** do I open this?" He wondered to himself, "Why won't the colour come off the sword? I better not get less because of it." "Cavte!" He yelled, "Descrta!" Nothing worked. He tried random phrases and eventually he yelled, "Open!" and it slid apart. "Really? That worked? Wow."
     
    Daylight shone in and he stumbled out. The potions effects began to wear off. As he continued to walk away he was draining fast. He kept walking down the path following the mountain. Eventually he started falling at trees. He continued this way tree to tree, their foliage forming together and blurring until it became a green background and painful light. Half blind he collapsed at each tree he could barely make out. He kept going, and he saw something moving. A figure, a woman, but she emitted a light. Dazed, he tried to follow. Many trees cushioned his fall while he attempted to follow the being until he stumbled and half drowned on a pool of water. The figure, almost visible made it painfully obvious that it wanted him to drink from the pond as it stood kneeling at the bank of the other end as he lifted his head from the water. She then disappeared laughing. He drank. Who was to question the being? Nymphs generally don't try to kill people, and it was probably a Nymph. He kept drinking and drinking from the pond. He didn't feel any better, but nor did he feel worse, and eventually he passed out.
     
    He awoke, it was evening. He was a bit groggy and thought about dumping the blood in the canteen out for the springs' water. He decided against it, the blood would contaminate the water, and he didn't think he would need it. Still he took a drink before setting off. He needed to go South, and the sun was in the West. He hoped he wouldn't get lost as he tried to head toward the nearest town, though not knowing where he was, it might be problematic. He headed out into the wilderness as the sun began to fade below the Earth.