There was a tale of great wealth hidden deep within the caverns of the mountains and tucked away from the light that the day offered. There lay a great beast of jeweled scales and patched fur who breathed fire and reigned down upon any who dared enter its domain.
Eyes of ruby it had when angered and cool as amethyst when at peace. An obsidian sickle as its pupil told of its reptilian heritage. It guarded the sacred treasures handed down by an ancient King of old who vowed only those truly worthy would amass the greatness this creature now held beneath its leathery wings. With Spears for teeth and macabre hooks for claws there were few who would dare meet the noble’s challenge.
Still through the decades that led to centuries many tried to slay the guardian in hope of being crowned the next to rule by monetary value alone. And each time their efforts were thwarted. Every now and then some returned with a trinket of gold here or a silver of silver there; all claiming to have stolen