Tales of Kaerlis and Grim - Vreskalinor, the Cobalt Dragon

A large sandstone door slowly grinds to a halt as two men wearing desert traveling gear groan in exasperation. "Do you think they'll mind Zahir? That caravan seemed to be headed this direction as well." A tall slender man with a tuft of silver-gray hair on his chin and sharp looking eyes responds with a low tempered tone, "Even if they were headed here, this is not theirs to claim. This place belongs to the Shatter King, Vreskalinor. So watch your step young Majiid." Majiid, a young man with short jet black hair and no cracks in his skin, looks around cautiously while stepping back from the doorway. He whispers, "Zahir, do you hear that?" Zahir's eyes focus quickly on the darkness beyond the large carved sandstone archway. From inside, a dull paced thud echoes through a hallway that appears to be made of similar hardened sandstone. Deep within, faint sounds of breathing can be heard. The creature, whatever it is, sounds massive. The low paced breath shaking sand free from the archway. Cobalt blue light slowly appears from behind the veil of shadows, as a voice echoes out shaking the stone floor they stand upon. "SROK VRAKORA DRE PROS SHEERA MA FAER." Zahir, with all of his experience and knowledge of ruins and the lore of the desert, quickly falters and shouts to the young man. "Majiid, RUN!"
Both of the men quickly sprint from the doorway, back out into the large entry chambers of this open ruin. Majiid jumps over a collapsed pillar and looks to Zahir waiting for an explanation. Just then another flash of cobalt blue light erupts from behind them. Rich blue lightning skitters along the ground and impacts the fallen pillar. The sand and rock explode into a spray of glass and stone. This sends both Zahir and Majiid into a far wall. Majiid slumps to the ground, groaning and barely moving. Zahir lays on the ground, motionless.

thud... thud.... thud...

The two brilliant cobalt blue eyes slowly move closer to the boundary of the shadowy veil of the archway. That same low bellowing voice echoes out into the entry chamber. "I SEE YOU RUN, BUT YOU ARE FRAIL. COME, BOY, OFFER YOURSELF TO ME. I WILL MAKE THIS QUICK." Light falls on the bridge of its deep blue snout. A long broad face peers out from the open archway revealing the beautifully scaled face of Vreskalinor. Its tone lowers as it slowly approaches Majiid. "I have lived for thousands of years. I see those like you come to take what is mine. They never leave me, young one. Let me show you." Those same cobalt blue eyes peer straight into Majiid's frightened eyes. Vreskalinor mutters something softly, barely opening its mouth. Slowly, starting at his feet, Majiid starts to feel his limbs. He screams out, saying that he cannot feel them. He tears off his boots, pulling his pant legs up, revealing a glassy amber foot. This magic creeps up his legs, slowly transforming the young man's body into a translucent amber glass statue.
The massive cobalt blue dragon, Vreskalinor, lets a deep reverberant laugh out as it snatches up the statue. "This will go nicely with the rest. I do enjoy visitors." Laughs the ancient blue behemoth.
"That is all I saw. I swear it." Zahir says as he takes the last drink from a now empty cup of spirits. "The boy should have known. I told him where we were." A tear rolls down his cheek as he stares at the bottom of the cup.
A tall rugged-looking half-elf flips a knife in his hand across the table. "Well, if that's the case, it looks like we're going to have to either bring more firepower, or we'll have to avoid knocking on the front door. Whaddaya think Grim?" A stout, scarred, mountain of a goliath man drops a large pouch on the table. Gold and platinum come spilling out of the bag. "How much to take us there?"