Disloyal, cowardly bunch, now I have to think of some reason to disturb Aodhan, Bartold thought angrily.

  He didn't know what was going on, but he was sure that a tired and very angry dragon would be waiting for him in the great hall, demanding an explanation as to how an unarmed, simple wanderer had managed to get past them.

  Which was actually a very good question. How had one man managed to take out dozens of armed robbers?

  All he remembered was that a huge wind started to blow through the locked cave just as they were about to search the stranger.

  It whirled us and everything else in the room around like a damn storm, he remembered.

  Bartold was no expert in magic and the changing ways, but he was pretty sure that no ordinary Mage would be able to do something like that.

  Could someone who was capable of stuff like that perhaps even kill a dragon... nonsense , he scolded himself for the ridiculous idea.

  It was one thing to defeat a group of armed Humans, but quite another to defeat a dragon on your own and then transform it.

  With a slight jolt, the elevator finally stopped, and Bartold stepped out into the corridor, making a mental note to send someone to the elevator crew later to inform them of what had happened.

  The whole thing could be some kind of trick by this scholar, if he was one. He went upstairs, got into a fight with Aodhan, got a slap in the face and has now transformed and thought of some desperate escape plan to get out of this situation. What is that robe he's wearing anyway? Why would a transformed dragon have something like that, the guy must be really desperate, but I probably would be too if I were him, he tried to make some sense of the events.

  Finally, he entered the large central hall that the dragon had chosen for his hoard and approached the large pile of treasure in the middle.

  He had expected to see a few signs of battle, but what he found were the remains of a battlefield.

  The floor around the pile of gold had splintered in dozens of places. Small craters had even formed in some parts of the hall and deep furrows covered parts of the floor in front of the hoard.

  It was clear that Aodhan had tried to smash something with his claws and that he must have tried many times.

  We were so out of it that we didn't even notice Aodhan demolishing the hall up here, he thought uncomfortably.

  As he approached the pile of gold, he noticed that the floor was getting warmer and warmer, until even through his leather shoes his feet hurt from the heat when he stood still.

  Of course he could already guess why that was the case, but he didn't really want to believe it.

  After all those years of working for Aodhan, he had only seen him breathe fire three times.

  When he arrived at the hoard, he saw that some parts of the treasure had partially melted and were still bubbling.

  What he didn't see, however, was Aodhan himself.

  He looked around in disbelief. The hall was large, but not large enough to completely overlook a Dragon inside of it.

  "Uh, Lord Aodhan," he called out loudly into the hall and when his own words echoed back to him without an answer, he knew he had to face reality.

  What the hell? Did the guy really tell the truth and is he really Aodhan or is it just a trick from this wanderer? Did he perhaps just drive Aodhan away? He looked at the pile of gold and discarded the last thought.

  With a pale face, he turned around and went back towards the elevator, finding it difficult to put one foot in front of the other.

  It was as if all his strength had left him together with the Dragon.

  As he staggered to the elevator, he frantically considered what to do next.

  None of this is proof that he is telling the truth, all I know for sure is that Aodhan is gone. But even if he is telling the truth, it amounts to the same thing. Aodhan is gone, he realized the harsh truth.

  Either way, there was no dragon left for the Dragon's Men to call upon, and he knew that would be the end of the gang.

  After coming to this realization, he stopped as the magnitude of what he was about to lose hit him.

  For the last fifteen years, he had lived like a king. He did not have to wait in a dirty forest hole for unwary travelers to fall into his trap, as he had in his youth.

  With Aodhan behind him, he could just walk up to people and demand their gold, and they would just give it to him. Of course, he had to give a lot of it to the dragon, but otherwise it had been a safe and exceedingly easy income.

  He and his men did not have to fight with any homemade clubs and spears, no, they had been able to order real steel and real armor from professional weaponsmiths.

  In the surrounding villages he could basically do whatever he wanted, since nobody messed with the dragon's men, but that required a dragon.

  They can never learn of Aodhans disappearance, but how do I keep something like that a secret? he thought desperately.

  Now and then, everyone saw Aodhan flying around, even if it was just to hunt. He feverishly considered how he should proceed and finally a plan took shape in his head that could make him the winner in this situation even without Aodhan.

  It was clear that he could not hide the Dragons absence for any prolonged period of time, but he didn't have to.

  Involuntarily he turned his head again in the direction of the now dragon less dragon's hoard.

  Yes, Aodhan is no longer there, he thought again as he saw the pile of gold gleaming in the light of the torches, a beacon for his dreams.

  If I play my cards right, people have to believe in the Big Bad Dragon just a little longer, he thought still with a sinking feeling in his stomach, but now with firmer steps on his way.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Whistling, Ivar walked through the streets towards the happy dwarf. Normally he wouldn't stop by until the afternoon, but he was curious and wanted to talk to the strange Wanderer again, especially about what he was planning to do now that he'd heard that a dragon was living in the old dwarf city.

  I'm seriously setting out to explain to someone why you should stay away from dragons. After all, most people naturally have a bad feeling about lizards and snakes, and we're talking about a giant flying lizard that can breathe fire. The logical conclusion about how to behave shouldn't be too difficult to come by, and it certainly isn't to Just have a relaxed chat with them, Ivar thought as he walked, snorting in disbelief.

  Although, Aodhan's reaction if the guy showed up in front of him to negotiate would definitely be funny, just before he roasted him, he thought, grinning slightly.

  As he thought about it more, he became more and more certain that the stranger was only joking, no matter what part of the world you came from, nobody was that crazy.

  However, he would not have survived in his job for so long if he had not played it safe whenever possible, and besides, it was an excellent excuse to visit the bar at lunchtime.

  Finally, he reached the village square, where most of the stalls had been set up and people were already haggling, both with money and with goods and services.

  As he walked across the square, he noticed a slightly dirty boy scurrying from stall to stall, dipping his fingers into the pockets of those who were too busy advertising their wares or inspecting said goods.

  Work, work, he thought with a sigh, but an idea quickly came to him.

  He caught up with the boy and when he was concentrating too much on the trouser pocket of his next victim, Ivar managed to surprise him from behind and pull him away from the stall by his arm.

  The boy, who he now recognized as Tim, the son of their roofer Gustav, looked around in panic and quickly became even more panicked when he noticed who was holding his arm.

  "I'm sorry, kid, but I'm afraid it's my day's work to disturb yours", Ivar explained to him with a smile, although he increased the pressure on his arm slightly.

  "Oh, damn it, please Ivar, don't lock me up, I only wanted enough for an apple," Tim begged him frantically.

  With his other hand, Ivar pulled a small bag from the boy's belt and weighed it in his hand.

  "Damm, it's really barbaric what they ask for an apple these days," Ivar thought out loud and increased the pressure on the boy's arm a little bit again.

  "Ouch, yes, really unfair, please let go of my arm and uh, please don't tell my parents," Tim continued to beg.

  Sighing, he loosened his grip slightly and acted as if he was seriously considering the boy's fate for a while.

  “Okay, I'm having a good day and I don't want to go to the trouble of dragging you into my cell, so I'll just give the money back to the Merchants you probably just borrowed it from when I get the chance, yes, I've been watching you for a while”, he explained to Tim, who had a look of both relief and surprise on his face.

  “But as for your mother, hmm”, he let go of his arm and looked thoughtful, suppressing a grin when he noticed the slight shaking in Tims knees.

  Finally, he took a few coins out of the bag and put them in Tims now very confused hands.

  “Well, last time I checked, that was even enough for two apples, you just have to promise me one thing, then you can have the money and I won't tell your Parents, do we have an agreement?” he asked conspiratorially.

  Tim nodded vigorously and said: “Yes, yes, thank you, what should I do”.

  “When you've finished with the first apple, promise me that you'll go to the north gate with the other one. If you find a sleeping guard there, you'll throw the apple with full force into his face or crotch and don't worry, by the time the guy has pulled himself together, you'll easily be on the other side of town,” Ivar explained to him with a wink.

  Tim closed his hand around the money and only answered with a mischievous grin, “Yes, sir,” and ran off.

  That's what happens when you skip training and sleep on work, Ben, apples get thrown at you. Enough children scared for one day, time for a drink, thought Ivar, satisfied with himself, and continued on his way towards the happy dwarf.

  “Hello Boris, and how is our guest?” asked Ivar, who had just entered the tavern and sat down on one of the bar stools at the counter.

  "Hello, Ivar, I'm afraid you missed Mr. Sturm by a few hours. He left right after breakfast," Boris replied, pushing a mug of beer across to him.

  "Don't tell me that this madman has seriously set off for the mountain," he asked incredulously, putting a few coins on the table.

  "Well, I tried to warn him again, but he wouldn't listen. He said he knows a bit about dragons because of his time with the djinns, but I doubt that knowledge will help him here. Aodhan has something against the glowing eyes, God knows why, I just hope he doesn't bite poor Stephan's head off as soon as he mentions them," Boris said, slightly worried.

  "Oh, don't worry, the dragon's men are probably too afraid of their dragon to bother him with something like that. They'll probably just send a ransom demand to Auros," he reassured his friend.

  "Well, at least he can tell his colleagues a pretty good story when he gets back," Boris agreed with a slight grin.

  "It certainly wouldn't be the first time that some wannabe explorer blindly stumbles into a mess like this. I hope he learns something from it," he said, shrugging his shoulders and taking a sip.

  Suddenly Boris's face brightened as he seemed to have a sudden idea.

  "Hey, the Djinns are filthy rich aren’t they. I'm sure that if they send their people to pick up Sturm, they'll stay in the city for a day or two and need somewhere to stay," said Boris with a grin that reminded him of the little thief from before.

  He only laughed at his friend's eager business sense and replied: "Yes, it could well be that..." He was abruptly interrupted when Ben Strolcher, the guard from the north gate, opened the door and looked at him with a panicked expression on his face.

  "What, bad dream, Ben? Maybe about flying apples?" he asked, slightly mocking, and took another drink.

  Ben completely ignored his comment and instead started talking in a breathless voice.

  "Oh, man, thank Rüdiger that I found you, Ivar. The mountain... the clouds... the dragon... oh man, it's really bad," Ben said, gasping for air.

  "Okay, now calm down, boy, and tell me exactly what's going on," Ivar asked, now alarmed.

  "Just come out and look, you can see it directly from the fountain square, it's so bad, I tell you," Ben explained pale and breathlessly.

  He quickly drank the rest. his beer and followed Ben outside with Boris in tow. Shortly after they had taken a few steps onto the village square and looked towards the mountain, he quickly realized what had made the young man so panicked.

  "It's so bad," he heard Ben mutter next to him.

  "Shit," was all he could say as he looked towards the mountain.

  On a sunny, cloudless midday, a single black cloud hovered threateningly over the old Dwarf fortress. The black plumes of smoke that seemed to be rising from the mountain also made it clear that this was not a simple storm cloud.

  Ivar's mouth fell slightly open. He knew that there was a passage on the back of the mountain that Aodhan had probably created when he dug into the mountain. That meant that the smoke from the depths of the old dwarven halls rose through Aodhan's tunnel to the sky.

  It was clear that there was only one thing that could generate so much heat. It wouldn't even surprise him if the forest around the tunnel had caught fire.

  Together with the others gathered in the square, he stared in horror at the ever-growing cloud of smoke.

  It was not the first time that clouds of smoke, caused by the dragon’s fire had been seen from Schlucht, but never had the clouds been so large or risen from the mountain itself.

  What reason could a dragon have to breathe fire in its own lair? he asked himself in thought

  "I think your guest made Aodhan very angry," he finally murmured into the horrified silence.

  "Yes... or he scared him," Boris answered slowly, suddenly seeming to ponder something.

  Before he could wonder about his friend's strange answer, something happened that surprised him even more than the sudden appearance of the huge cloud of smoke, namely the abrupt disappearance of it.

  From one moment to the next, the cloud of smoke evaporated in all directions, as if a sudden gust of wind had blown it all away.

  Not believing his own eyes, Ivar continued to stare at the now bright blue sky, which until a few moments ago had been obscured by a large cloud of darkness. What kind of magic is at work here?, was all that went through his mind.