A Dragon's Nature

 

The raiding party piled out of the tunnel in a cacophony of heavy breathing, weaponry, and increasingly exasperated hushing noises. I dragged myself from my slumber atop the highest mound in my hoard to sniff out their scent.

Dwarves. Who else.

Sighing, I reached for the bottle of lamp oil, and mentally prepared my pilot light spell. The dwarves had extinguished their torches, probably in a vain attempt to hide their approach, and stumbled around cursing in the pitch darkness. Mumbling the spell, I took a large mouthful of oil.

Then I exhaled over the flame in my palm, and sent a tongue of bright fire twelve yards long towards them.

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