The group crept down the passageway into the dragon’s lair, retracing their steps from the previous evening. Mirrik had stayed on the exterior of the cave guarding the horses. Each young man carried a burlap sack.
“It is unbelievable how stupid that dragon was,” Jarik’s voice echoed off the cavern walls. “You hear all these legends of how dragons are smart and powerful creatures, but yet when you finally run into one you can just wait it out as it goes about its day. It is just as stupid as a house cat.”
“We still should hurry,” Prince Arlin of Catheldor said. “That beast could be back at any moment and I do not want to be caught with no way to escape.”
The group made their way through the cave. Remains of the stag, which was the dragon’s dinner, were pooled in a bloody mess next to the pile of bones. The pile of skulls watched the group as the entered the rear cavern.
“It makes one feel bad for taking from the creature,” Firae said as he picked up a gold crown. “The dragon possess these things just as you or I possess any of our belongings.”
“Spoken like a true elf,” Thothen grunted. “You forget how the beast had acquired this treasure. He stole and murdered like a common thief.”
“Maybe this dragon has done no such thing,” Firae said. “Maybe his parents were the ones that acquired all of this wealth. Maybe he doesn’t know where it came from or how to return it.”
Gaston laughed. “And maybe you should wait here to ask him.”