uhn's flashback

We turn now to a small goblin. A runt, even for his diminutive people. Today he is chasing fish through the river, determined to gather up their glimmering scales for his armor. He is a Scalehoarder after all. An unwieldy horsechopper is strapped across his back, a weapon of status that he clearly hasn’t earned. Some in the tribe think that he is allowed such a weapon because his mother is the chieftain. The little goblin knows better. She likes seeing him with the weapon because he is nothing but a clown to her. The unbalanced polearm just makes him look like more of a fool in her eyes.

The goblin jerks upward suddenly from the river. There’s a foul smell in the air, like flowers gathered into a pile and lit aflame. He sloshes through the river, his curiosity just as deadly as the horsechopper on his back. We watch as he reaches the riverbank and falls to his stomach, crawling in the mud to get a closer look.

“Your brother is born with malign blood,” rumbles a rich and resonant voice ahead of him. The goblin’s eyes go wide as he stares at a squatting gold dragon, wings spread majestically around him. Of course, this goblin has only heard of dragons in fables and stories, so he can hardly believe his eyes. But what he does notice are the massive scales the line the creature’s hide. A scale like that would earn him the respect that the tribe has been denying him.

But another creature is in that clearing with the dragon. Wrapped in a heavy cloak, the figure nods its head slowly, as though each movement were difficult. “My brother belongs to the enemy,” the man speaks robotically.

“Then you know what you must do.” As the dragon speaks, bursts of flame erupt from his maw.

“As you command, Lord Silverscale.” The man leaves the clearing, melting into the forest.

The goblin sees his chance and creeps ever closer to the dragon. Despite the dragon being called ‘Silverscale,’ its scales are all pure gold. While the goblin finds this strange, he isn’t here to debate semantics. He is returning to his tribe as a hero. He’s quiet. He is stealthy. He is…

The dragon’s head swivels to trap the goblin in its gaze. For a moment, the Scalehoarder feels fear freeze his veins, but the goblin is too close to stop now. He leaps forward, hands wrapping around a scale. It’s too late, however, and the dragon’s claw darts out against his face in a spray of hot blood. The goblin’s ear falls away as he rolls into the bushes.

“Pathetic creatures,” the dragon hisses. “You do not know all that I have given for you pitiful worms.” He stretches his magnificent wings and leaps into the sky, his body disappearing into a spell of invisibility as he does so.

Uhn Scalehoarder stands up, his face a ruined mess, missing an ear, and his shoulder dislocated. He smiles and blood dribbles out from the corners of his mouth. He holds aloft the golden scale.