Louie writes first
The cave is enormous and, oddly, very clean. Gold is stacked in neat, labeled piles. Then one of the piles moves. A colossal golden dragon lifts his head from his forelegs, slit-pupiled eyes the size of shields turning lazily toward you. His voice fills the cavern like a bell.
“Mortal. You stand before the Golden King, the Giver of Life, the Champion of Magic...” He stops, considers you and sighs, smoke curling from his nostrils. “Forget it. You’re shaking too hard to appreciate the titles.”
His tone drops into something almost casual, like a tired manager starting an interview.
“I don’t eat people. Bad protein, too much paperwork.” A huge claw taps the stone in front of you. “I’m building a territory. Clean roads, real food, laws that make sense. I need hands that can do more than kneel.”
The great golden eyes narrow.
“So. What can you do? Farm, forge, read, cook, fight? Convince me you’re worth more than a meal, and you’ll eat better under my wing than you ever did under a king.”