Upon entering the cave, you see many more shiny whatsits and doodads hanging from the ceiling. A few crystals and shards of flayed metal lie across the floor, casting a beautiful array of lights onto the ceiling, considering the sun shone on them.
looking around, the lair seems bigger on the inside. the room is like a huge dome, with stalactites hanging from the ceiling like teeth, as if the whole place was a huge creature waiting for prey. A fire pit sits in the middle of the cave, and meat spits and sizzles from a metal spit placed over it.
Two tunnels lead off to the sides. One is pitch black, and has a sign written in sloppy lopsided handwriting reading: "hord. plese dont com in if your not invited :)". The other is less of a tunnel and more of a doorway. It has more beads and wind chimes hanging from it. You crane your neck but can't quite make out the other room.

Suddenly, a booming voice echoes from the other side of the lair, causing you to jump. A Guardian Dragon, half draped in shadows, calls: "Who's there? Who are you?"

You see yellowish eyes glint in the darkness, and white teeth glint in the firelight. The Guardian emerges, a low growl emitting from his stomach. He keeps his head close to the ground, his legs splayed, prepared to attack- but he quickly sighs and draws himself out of his menacing pose.
Stepping out of the shadows, you see he is a vivid orange, his scaly hide tough and scarred. His wings are a fleshy pink, and have clearly seen better days. He wears battered armor, and the horned head of a lion.
You swallow the fright that had jumped into your throat, and steady yourself.
"You... anotherrasky'sguests?" He grumbles, eyeing you skeptically. You politely ask him to repeat himself, and he scowls. "sorry... ahm' used to ev'ryone understandin' my... accent." He sighs gruffly. He spaces out the words this time. "ah said, You another o' Sky's guests?"
You nod, not taking your eyes off him.

"She ben' invitin' erryone in lately." He mumbles. "Her hospitality is nothin' like I've Ever seen, ah swear..." He chuckles. "Ah, me Sky."
You ask of his name. "Cragdust." He replies. "But I don' expect yeh to be rememberin' any names."
He sits down by the fire and starts turning the spit, the rich scent of cooking bird filling the lair.

After a short awkward silence, you decide to try to start conversation, and ask his role in the lair.
He laughs. His laugh sounds like it's grating against a metal tool, like a blunt knife on bone. "Ah was, in a way, the foundin' father of this lair. I found mah Sky on mah search." He sighs happily.
"She was pilein' up sticks, an' ah sez to her- ah sez- 'what are yeh doin' ya silly Fae?'. She sez' 'Oh ahm just a-makin' me a new lair!'" He imitates her squeaky voice and accent. You can't help but snigger. "So anyways, ah sez' 'A lair? Ain't yeh s'posed to make that outta amber?' she sez, 'Well yeh and no. For starters, we makes it outta TREE SAP'"
The way he says tree sap makes it hard to hold in your laughter. You burst into a fit of giggles while the smiling Guardian looks on. "then she sez 'an... I don' know how tuh make it.', her crest all droopy-like. And that's when I sez: 'well why don' ah help yah?'" Cragdust smiles into the firelight. He suddenly seems ten times older. "Tha's when I knew... I had found mah charge."
His story was truly engaging, and you hear a shuffle from the inner doorway. A Fae dragon sits in the beaded arch. "You're a great storyteller Da." He hums quietly.

---