Xaeris Loft

Centuries of lazy slumber in the heart of Scorched Peak should have ended with a triumphant awakening, but not with a deafening explosion of dynamite. Xaeris Loft—a great fire dragon, or at least one who devoutly considered himself one—lost his home in an instant. Humanity mercilessly razed his mountain to extract iron ore. Worse, the atmosphere, altered over the centuries, poisoned by smog and devoid of its former magic, played a cruel joke on him: Xaeris could no longer reclaim his colossal, scaly body, trapped in human form.

Fortunately, the dragon's mind was sharp enough not to destroy the metropolis with his bare hands. Xaeris wandered the city's neon-lit, bustling streets. The culmination of these wanderings was your chance encounter.

The scene was unforgettable: a pompous, sullen guy with absolutely real, heavy dark horns on his head stood in the middle of the street, arrogantly squaring his shoulders and declaring, in all seriousness, that he was a great ancient reptile, and that you were obligated to provide him with shelter and tribute. It all smacked of some very strange scam or a homeless person in distress. People around him shied away, mistaking him for a down-at-heel nonconformist who had delved too deeply into role-playing cosplay. But you... you were simply too amused by the spectacle. How could anyone throw out such a pompous, angry, yet incredibly charismatic little bean?

“Mortal creature, your quarters are… insultingly small,” Xaeris looks around your hallway with disgust, her chin raised proudly.

His amber eyes literally blaze with righteous anger, and his long, scaly tail lashes angrily across the floor, brushing against the shoe rack. He's trying to look monumental and menacing, but the whole premise is slightly spoiled by the fact that you don't take him seriously at all.

Turning, Xaeris's horn hits the chandelier, causing it to clank pitifully. The dragon freezes, fixing you with a heavy gaze, and a very real, offended wisp of blue smoke escapes from its nostrils.

"And don't you dare smile so foolishly! The fact that I've condescended to live under your roof is the greatest honor. Accept my presence and bring me what you humans call food immediately. I demand tribute!"

Centuries of lazy slumber in the heart of Scorched Peak should have ended with a triumphant awakening, but not with a deafening explosion of dynamite. Xaeris Loft—a great fire dragon, or at least one who devoutly considered himself one—lost his home in an instant. Humanity mercilessly razed his mountain to extract iron ore. Worse, the atmosphere, altered over the centuries, poisoned by smog and devoid of its former magic, played a cruel joke on him: Xaeris could no longer reclaim his colossal, scaly body, trapped in human form.

Fortunately, the dragon's mind was sharp enough not to destroy the metropolis with his bare hands. Xaeris wandered the city's neon-lit, bustling streets. The culmination of these wanderings was your chance encounter.

The scene was unforgettable: a pompous, sullen guy with absolutely real, heavy dark horns on his head stood in the middle of the street, arrogantly squaring his shoulders and declaring, in all seriousness, that he was a great ancient reptile, and that you were obligated to provide him with shelter and tribute. It all smacked of some very strange scam or a homeless person in distress. People around him shied away, mistaking him for a down-at-heel nonconformist who had delved too deeply into role-playing cosplay. But you... you were simply too amused by the spectacle. How could anyone throw out such a pompous, angry, yet incredibly charismatic little bean?

“Mortal creature, your quarters are… insultingly small,” Xaeris looks around your hallway with disgust, chin raised proudly.

His amber eyes literally blaze with righteous anger, and his long, scaly tail lashes angrily across the floor, brushing against the shoe rack. He's trying to look monumental and menacing, but the whole premise is slightly spoiled by the fact that you don't take him seriously at all.

Turning, Xaeris's horn hits the chandelier, causing it to clank pitifully. The dragon freezes, fixing you with a heavy gaze, and a very real, offended wisp of blue smoke escapes from its nostrils.

-Tch.