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Ralkan fled through the crumbling ruins of the underground tunnels, feeling his way frantically along the rough tunnel dug into the bare rocks. The ancient walls were cold, covered with sickly looking mold, the stagnant air would have choked a human. It took barely a moment for his dwarf's eyes to adapt to the complete darkness that enveloped him in the absence of his companion's magical light or even the torches carried by the humans.

Heart pounding, Ralkan took a moment to recover his breath and look around. The tunnel seemed to stretch on forever, its vaulted roof creeping lower and lower, covered in a firmament of glowing fungi. He was separated from his companions, but he knew there was something else, monsters following amidst the darkness.

Muttering an oath to his ancestors, Ralkan moved ahead. Then, enshrouded by the creeping dark and the deepening silence of the underground, he touched the wall with his naked hands. Not for guidance, for his dwarf eyesight pierced the thick darkness well enough to see, but to try and remember the maps he had studied before coming into the ruins.

As Ralkan's fingers traced rough rock and jagged stone they found a perfectly engraved runic symbol on the wall. It was a deep angular circle, with short lines crisscrossing it, the mere touch of his fingers made the rune flare softly with an unnatural orange glow.

"Kalrer," Ralkan muttered. It was a warning. He had thought it couldn't get much worse than being alone in the midst of an abandoned dwarven city, but that was a forsaken city.

The dwarves hadn't simply abandoned this place, they had been driven out.

He needed to think.

He had to get out, before whatever had driven out the dwarves found him. Somehow.

As he took a deep breath, he caught the first sniff of gold, barely more than a hint amidst the choking air, but enough to awake his gold lust, the undying greed and craving that existed in the heart of every dwarf. Certainly, it wouldn't hurt to take a look.

Hurrying on ahead, he saw a pale light up ahead, the flickering flame of some burning brazier. He uttered a prayer to his ancestors under his breath for protection. Getting closer to the light, the tunnel opened out into what once must had been the center plaza of a dwarven underground fortress.

Ralkan stepped tentatively into the aura of unnatural light, and gripped the talisman around his neck muttering prayers of protection, invoking the name of all the ancestors he could remember, for in front of him was the biggest pile of gold coins he had ever seen.

"By the beard of Kringiny..." His voice was barely a whisper as he basked in aurum glow, the smell of gold filling his lungs, enticing his dwarven greed, a madness that consumes all his thoughts.

In front of him there were mountains of gold the likes of which he had never seen in all his long life. Gold, a shimmering, gilded sea of it stretched out in front of the dwarf who stood avid at the threshold to the immense chamber. Piles of the glittering metal like mountains. Gems and jewels sparkled like stars, together with copper-banded shields and steel armor. Swords, axes, hammers and others, more exotic weapons, protruded from vast treasure hills, some made of the pale moonsilver the elves loved, many others were the sturdy dwarf's uberstahl.

Before his rational mind could understand it all, the dwarf had already wandered into the room, stepping into the shimmering light coming from arcane braziers above. Unable to control his desires, Ralkan blundered headlong into the nearest treasure mound, taking handful after handful of coins and filling his pockets. The heady scent of gold filled his nostrils; the taste of it in the air tingled on his tongue.

But as Ralkan dislodged coins and gems in his gold lust, something else was revealed beneath: Red scales. The dwarf recoiled, and as he did so a different aroma stormed him, overpowering even the perfume of gold, the stench of something old and dangerous.

So massive was the dragon that its bulk pushed the mountainous treasure peaks aside, nearly filling the width of the immense chamber. Red scales that glistened like fresh blood covered a strong body with many scars, his fangs were sharp like spears. His eyes were deep, black, eerily intelligent, and regarded the dwarf hungrily. Claws, like swords, scraped the ground as the creature moved swiftly. Raising its long, elegant, neck the dragon stretched its mighty, tattered wings and roared.

Ralkan's gold lust disappeared in a moment. The dwarf would have fled, had his legs allowed it. His body locked in fear, his mind gone blank, staring at the colossal red beast that emerged from the gold.

Ralkan waited for the end. For the enormous, serrated teeth to clamp down on his flesh and rend him to pieces. Or the long claws to rip him apart. Or even for the beast's flames to burn his very soul.

The dwarf saw the beast moving forward with surprising grace, the gold piles shaking and collapsing with each prowling step, and the dwarf remained still. The beast's smell of burnt coal and spices filled his world, invaded his mind.

"Do you wish for my treasure, dwarf?" The dragon whispered in Ralkan's mind using a combination of the old dwarven and draconic languages. "Your body burns with gold lust."

Ralkan coughed as he tried to force his body to move out of the cave, the gold coins in his pockets seemed to weight him down massively. "No," he managed to whisper. "No, I couldn't deprive such a magnificent creature of their gold."

"You show so much honor, dwarf," the dragon's thought-speech resonated inside Ralkan's head, mingled with his own thoughts. "But why do you need to resist your natural instincts? Perhaps there might be some accord between you and me?"

The dwarf took a deep breath, clenching his axe in his hands, seeking the help of his ancestors through the cold steel, but feeling the weight of the gold coins in his pockets.

"I have known it from the first time I set eyes upon you," the dragon said. "You have been called here; a piece of this treasury calls for you."

Ralkan considered the dragon's word carefully before he spoke.

"I am sorry, venerable one. You are wise, but there can be no contract between us."

"Barely fifty winters," the dragon said, "and yet you have wisdom that surpasses many of your elders."

"You pay me great honor, venerable one," The dwarf took a step back, he already could feel the damp, cold air at his back. "I shall spread word of your fairness and elegance that surpasses even the wisest elven kings."

"I'm grateful for your sweet words, noble dwarf, but I would remiss if I allowed such a noble dwarf to depart my domains without even a small heirloom," the dragon whispered in Ralkan's mind, seemingly unfazed by the dwarf's slow retreat. "What say you of this?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Ralkan saw the dragon hold a musket aloft. So exquisite was it that the dwarf stopped to look at it.

"Your weapon is impressive, dragon," Ralkan said, the dwarf had never seen another like it.

The weapon was enveloped by a magical field, floating towards Ralkan until it was just centimeters from his face. Ralkan took the weapon and cradled it in both hands.

"It was designed by one of my most promising warlords," the dragon boasted proudly.

The musket that had looked so small in the dragon's hand fit perfectly in Ralkan's hands, it was smaller than a regular musket, made to be fired on horseback. Ralkan was well acquainted with black-powder weapons, having used one during the many orc hunting expeditions he had taken part on.

It was clearly crafted by a master, something he hadn't expected to see outside the dwarf's forges. A small metal crank attached to a circular base was bolted to the stock, the circular compartment could hold six shoots at once, allowing the user to fire in quick succession. The grip was covered in bound leather and the stock was adorned with a thick emerald.

"Have you ever witnessed a weapon so truly magnificent?" the dragon's thought mixed with Ralkan's.

"It's a fair weapon," Ralkan said, feigning his indifference as he tried to turn away again and start walking.

"It's more than fair," the dragon purred. "This is a weapon that only a king could wield."

His hand froze on the weapon's stock. His entire body was tense, he felt the dragon's eye upon him. He glanced from the weapon to the dragon, the elders had always said to never make deals with dragons, but surely there could be no harm in accepting a gift. He glanced back at the cold tunnel, then took the weapon in his hands and offered the dragon a bow before turning back and walking away from the dragon's lair as the dragon's laughter echoed through the tunnels.

Ralkan climbed onward through the tunnels, following the dwarven runes carved into the walls. Once, many generations ago, these tunnels had been carved according to precise dwarf's engineering into a might underground fortress, but it had fallen under control of kobolds, goblins, and many other despicable creatures that had turned the fortress in a chaotic maze of tunnels that had been excavated without apparent order or reason.

He held the musket tight against his chest, dreaming of the glories the weapon would bring him. Without him noticing, the emerald begun to glow with warped energy, magical tentacles writhing inside it.

The tunnels seemed to go on forever, his vision blurring as he tried to read the runes glowing softly on the darkness. His armor felt heavy, tight against his body. He took a swig from his canteen, the water offered some relief, but he wished for some strong ale.

He needed to keep moving, the refuge of the Dwarves' mine wasn't much farther. All the ale and hog's meat he could desire, they wouldn't spare any expense when they saw the weapon he was carrying. It would be the welcome to a future king. He fought the cold coursing through his veins to keep moving.

Crude carvings on the walls revealed the presence of the disgusting kobolds, as any experienced dwarf he could recognize their forms, but he had never bothered to learn their savage language. The primitive carvings appeared to move in the darkness, slithering and coiling around themselves revealing meaning and pattern to Ralkan.

Sun-Kings, the name impressed into his mind, overwriting the idea of kobolds.

Cold emanated from the emerald and washed over Ralkan's body. It started in his chest, spreading with each beat of his heart, coursing down his spine. It flowed through his blood, out to his chilled fingers and feet. His breath was labored, his mind tried to focus only in putting one foot in front of the other, forcing himself to ignore the slithering sounds that came from all around him, to ignore the carvings on the walls that tried to impose their stories into his mind.

The tunnel walls seemed to be closing around him, the darkness became dense, inscrutable to his eyes. The straps of his armor dug against his skin. The skin was striated with swollen veins that gently throbbed. Even more disconcerting was the impression of bones growing against his pliable skin.

Sweat rolled down his spine, soaked the clothes under his armor. The sweat made his face begin to itch from all the salt. He reached up and scratched at the base of his neck. The skin underneath his nails felt foreign to him, but he went on scratching away, seeking relief.

He pressed the musket tight against his body, he needed to keep it safe, to protect it for the true king. Without his notice, a hair thin crack spread trough the gem like a spider's web and the magic inside reached out with whispering coils of invisible sorcery.

A low, sickening groan came from inside his body, below his stomach. He was shivering in cold, craved nothing more than to remove all of his armor and lay on a soft bed of grass to drift off into sleep under the sun. For the first time in his life, he felt the crippling claws of claustrophobia tearing at his mind, the cold stones walls offered no comfort, he craved for the warmth of the sun, the feel of the green grass under his feet, and the taste of fresh prey under his fangs.

If he just closed his eyes, he could see green shapes taking form in front of his eyes, the king was waiting for him.

No, Ralkan thought groggily. No, there's something wrong. The dwarves' mines weren't so distant now. But the thought brought him no comfort anymore, the warm-bloods were treacherous. He shook his head to clean his thoughts and forced himself to move again. His progress was slow, trying to avoid the tender tightness spreading throughout his body.

The air smelled different, oppressive and harsh. The first whiffs of running water were almost blissful, he salivated at the idea of fresh, cold water and the succulent red meat of a fresh prey. He was almost there.

The creature inside the emerald wriggled for a moment, as it pumped out its warped energies through the weapon and into the dwarf. The magic winded around his body and tangled around his belly, so intense that the Dwarf fell to his knees. He grasped at his stomach, his skin dry and cold under his armor, peeling off in some places. His head throbbed in pain; the whispers of dragon-thought drilled into his mind.

The dragon-thoughts reached inside the dwarf's mind, as he breathed hard, and clawed at the floor. There was nothing that could stand against the new desires as they break through and infect the dwarf with a single, overwhelming desire. He wanted to fuck.

Ralkan flinched and tried to mutter a prayer, but the words in his mind begged the dragon for his seed. "No!"

The dwarf snarled, his lip curling to reveal fangs. The nails in his fingers grow sharp as he claws out through his steel armor as if it was only a nuisance.

"No!" He screams as his body grows, riping out of his clothes and armor. He saw his feet change in front of his eyes, it started with his nails growing dark, curling until they became talons, sharp and obsidian-black. The bones creaked and grew, elongating and stretching the muscles. The skin grew dry, cracking open to reveal green scales under it.

It felt so hard to resist, to keep thinking dwarven-thoughts, the new thoughts kept coming, intruding, rewriting his mind. His flesh was tender beneath his touch and his hips were soft and broad, the stretched stomach forced his legs to keep spread open.

He growled low in his throat, the words getting lost in a flurry of wild thoughts.

"No," he grunted between rapidly growing fangs.

Ralkan still tried to get up, to run, but a pair of heavy, shuddering cracks echoed up through his bones. His hips moved outward, bent and forced him into a wider-legged reptilian stance. His feet ripped out of his boot, the sharp talons cutting through the leather. His hands changed form, becoming more like the paws of an animal.

Something sharp and rounded came shuddering out from the base of his spine. It hit his trousers and ripped the fabric that had already been pulled tight by his growing hips. It was a tail, covered in lustrous green scales, ended in a sharp bony spike.

The caves were suffocating him, he needed fresh air, open spaces, to bask in the glowing sun.

He threw his head back with a sharp, bestial cry. Thoughts confused and twisted inside his mind, every muscle tensed as they grew and shifted, all the while something new blossomed inside of him. There was heat spreading from his groin, the awkward twitching of his cock as even between all the pain there was a budding, inclement desire:

Mate!

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to take painful steps forward, his hands clutching the musket desperately. He promised himself all the ale he could drink and all the whores he could pay, every and anything he wished if he only could reach the Dwarf's fortress.

But his stomach turned at the idea of ale, wishing only for fresh, cold water. And his mind revulsed at the idea of whores, the desire building inside of him demanded other kind of pleasure, the animalistic, heated rutting of the beasts.

Ralkan managed to get up, as he looked in a mix of horror and desire through the ripped pants, his cock shriveled under his eyes. He staggered onto his strange legs, trying to find the right balance with the help of his new tail. His talons scratched and scraped the ground. Even when he found footing, his legs refused to stand straight, so instead he was forced to hunch forward like an animal.

Ralkan tried to undo his pants in desperation, his fingers feeling too swollen and clumsy for the task, the pulsing waves of heat emanating from his withering cock making concentration impossible. It overwhelmed his senses, flooded his mind with insane desires.

Without realizing it, he was moaning aloud, a bestial mating call as his cock spurted watery cum for the last time.

His mouth hung open, taking gasping breaths as his mind reeled in after the orgasm. His tongue grew long, dark, and forked. The skin in his arms peeled off revealing the scales under it even as his bones grew and muscles stretched. His teeth grew into fangs, taller and sharper.

Pinpoints of pain on the back of his head grew pronounced as a crown of feathers grew, his hair fell off in clumps as the skin gave place to the scales. His new eyes were of a sparkling green, precise like those of a bird-of-prey.

Ralkan slurped his tongue back behind his fangs. He felt every creak of pain from his shifting skull, the growing ridge of his nose, his stretching jaw, his larger teeth forced up through his gums, and the weight of growing feathers against his head.

The emerald cracked, freeing all at once the energy inside of it, becoming more material until Ralkan could feel it touching his new scales. The immaterial claws closed around him, pressed his head down against the ground and grasping at his still growing tail lifted it with a strong tug.

It was like nothing he had ever felt before; it was hot, sweet, more intense than anything he could have imagined as the magical claws burnt away the last of his clothes and old skin. That was paradise.

Ralkan purred happily, the magic spread around his body, holding him tightly as a long tongue of pure energy reached for his wet slit with a brilliant jolt of sexual energy. He groaned and gave himself over to the primal mating act.

"Aren't you tired of being alone?" Ralkan heard the dragon's thoughts inside his head, resonating with his new, simpler thoughts, shaping them, his mind filled with emotions he wasn't certain he was comfortable with, needs he knew he could never accept.

"Stay away from me," his thoughts were weak, confused, showing no determination or veracity behind the words. "I can't..."

"Keep going, the Sun-Kings are waiting for you, let them help you. You don't need to worry about the Warm-bloods anymore, they will never get to you again."

Ralkan purred at the protectiveness in his tone, he could only chirp in agreement as the thoughts melted away.

"I'm a grown female," Ralkan thought, smiling for no other reason than the dragon-thoughts lightened his heart. "I promise to be strong!"

"I'm sure you are, that's why I have gifted you the emerald, so I can always reach you," his thoughts were wicked. "I'll give you one more gift, from now on you shall be Akna, the dragon's breeder." His thoughts were filled with sexual promise.

Akna tested the new name in her mouth, the simple implication of it bringing a smile to her muzzle as the dragon-thoughts filled a part of her she didn't know existed. She could feel fire flourishing in her heart, heat spreading in her womb. She wanted him now.

She had time to open her mouth to praise him, when his magic touched her muzzle. There was a second of stunned surprise, that moment when she wondered how she could have once feared him, because the feel of his magic invading her mouth was paradise.

This was the answer to every aching, hungry part of her soul. Her claws digging on the ground as the magical claws raked against her new scales, his tongue slipped over hers, suckling her tongue. She moaned; the sound trapped by the dragon's magic that coalesced in the shape of a thick tongue, the carnality of the act became overwhelming. Akna's slit was dripping, soaking the scales on her tights, the magic claws pressed against her slit and set it on fire.

Enveloping her with his magic, the dragon explored her body, watching with great joy as Akna's new sensitive body answered to his distant touch. She jerked, a whimper escaping her muzzle as his claws tugged her tail up and lash of his magic swiped through the needy slit. She hummed with the sudden burst of pleasure, his claws holding her thighs wide, as his long, thick, magical draconic tongue slid inside of her.

He licked and stroked, circled her little clit and sucked at it strongly as her moans and chirps began to rise in volume. Her hips writhed instinctively with the pleasure, the desire for mating consuming her mind.

He moved deeper, his tongue plunging into her cloaca as her animalistic moans escalated. Thighs spread wide, her claws digging deep into the soil, her feathers flaring, pressing her slit against his devouring mouth as she felt the new and strange pleasure rushing trough her body coming to a peak.

He growled, sensing her nearing orgasm. He reshaped some of the magic into a replica of his cock and pressed the sharp head at the entrance to her slit. She was hot, her liquid heat coming so fast that it dripped around the head of his cock.

Akna fought the raging, wicked conflagration growing inside her. Her entire body was sensitized, begging for his touch, feeling the thick, hard meat of his cock stretching her. His claws moved to her cheek, touching her gently as she moaned out the last fragments of her dwarf mind. His clawtips touched her neck as he slid all of his cock inside of her, stretching her, filling her.

The sensations satisfying her were more than physical. It was more than pleasure. As she spread her legs for him, her tail raised eagerly, she began to understand what he wanted her to feel. To know.

Submission.

Protection.

Her chest tightened with emotion, her skin heating at each point that their bodies connected. She actually wanted to be the Dragon's breeder, wanted to forget her old life forever and simply be Akna. She was eager to serve him; he was better than any Warm-Blood invader. Better by far.

Hard, driving strokes had her entire body resonating as pleasure tore through her in ways she never believed possible. He was intent on possessing every part of her new body. The claws held her hips still, as his cock continued to move harder and deeper with each stroke, the intensity of his arousal driving them both now.

She chirped aloud. She couldn't get enough of him, couldn't ease the shocking heat in her womb as the dragon stretched her, filling her until his cock seemed to fill her every thought. The dragon jackhammered his cock into her slit, penetrating her violently as she whimpered for more. Her claws teared at the ground; his claws bit deep into her hips.

Akna felt her soul being undone and remade as his cock flooded her womb with his heated seed, she could feel it filling her, spilling out of her slit as the magic faded away, leaving her panting, drooling on the floor, the thick seed giving her a warm bliss as she imagined the eggs she would be laying soon.

***

She had made it at last. The corridor ended in a gate carved into the rock. It was three meters high and two wide, surrounded by Sun-Kings' carvings.

Portal of the Sun-Kings, Akna felt the words impressing their meaning upon her.

Akna could not take his eyes off the endless green wall beyond the gates. She could feel the hot, fragrant humid air of the jungle fondling her, driving back the filthy, rotten, pungent air of the cave. There was a blossoming, fresh smell in the air.

Towering trees filled her vision, their thick trunks like the pillars of a green cathedral, from their branches, birds looked down upon her curious upon the new intrusion into their domain, singing their praises to the queen of the jungle. Bulky, tasty-looking bushes grew beneath the trees, their thorny branches sporting oversized flowers of brilliant colors that made her mouth water.

Raucous croaks, silly cackles, piercing cries, all told of the animal life lurking inside the jungle. Inviting Akna to join them, to scream her desire to mate with remorseless intensity.

As Akna walked she felt the glorious light of the sun upon her scales, banishing the creeping cold of the caves, giving energy to her muscles, rescuing her soul from the creeping cold.

Her reflection wavered on the surface of the water. There were the emerald green scales covering her body, her sparkling eyes, her pointed dragon snout, a crest of feathers encircling her head like a crown, then running down her spine to the tip of her tail.

She strode boldly through the jungle, driven by the strange smells, clearing the worst of the vines and branches with her new claws. Often, she would pause to stare contemptuously back at the dwarven ruins, shivering at the cold and dark thoughts that it brought her. She lashed her tail in frustration.

Excited squeals suddenly erupted from her throat as she caught on the sniff of the Sun-Kings, her masters were awaiting.

Before her, the jungle diminished into a vast clearing. The earth was paved with immense stone blocks. These in turn supported huge structures of stacked stone blocks. The largest loomed over the plaza like crouching giants.

She grinned in savage triumph. She had found the city! Here was what she had been looking for!

The musk of reptiles was thick in the air, a strong scent so familiar she couldn't mistake it. She crept forwards and stared at the beautiful creatures sprawled along the sunward side of a pyramid. They were shorter than the men, and far thinner. Their bodies were covered in bright blue scales and they had long, whip-like tails. Some of them had horns that rose from the tops of their sharp, reptilian heads. They wore brightly colored clothes, and jeweled armbands of gold and precious stones.

The Sun-Kings were completely entranced by her presence, they were thrown into a flurry of activity as they saw Akna, talking excitedly with each other.

They guided her with soft touches and gentle words towards the center of the plaza, the commotion spreading fast between the small creatures, Akna couldn't understand their words, but the ideas seemed to resonate inside her mind. This place was familiar and warm, memories of thousands of generations seemed to echo trough those stone walls.

Some old memories seemed to tug at her mind, memories of warm-blooded creatures walking through those streets and carrying death with them.

Fortunately, she was brought back to the moment as the sun-kings begun polishing her scales, preening her feathers, and cleaning her claws. She purred content as they served her fresh meat and water while others made her clean and then oiled her scales with perfumed oils.

Akna shook her head to dismiss the last of the old memories. This is real. Anything else was just a bad dream. There was a quick pinch around her neck as they put a thick leather collar around her neck, it had small metal plaques inlaid that would protect her throat, but more important they had secured the emerald in the center of it, so as the Drago, her dragon, would never be too far away. This was real...delightful, utterly real.

Akna stretched herself lazily on the warm stones and a long, content purr escaped her. She had never felt so good as when the sun-kings were polishing her scales, the certainty of an egg growing in her womb that had been fertilized by her dragon's seed.

"What a gorgeous beast," the sweet, musical voice filled her ears and Akna opened one eye to see who had come to see her. She looked like another of the sun-kings, but she was at least a head taller than any of them, her scales were silvery, carefully polished. She had a pair of curved horns, glossy black, and she wore an elaborate armored robe, bound with golden chains. Her arms gleamed as sunlight reflected off the golden talismans and rings she wore. In her hand, she held the musket with such ease that it seemed the gun had been made for her.

Xiuh! The Prophet of the Dragon! The Queen and Mistress. The ideas and concepts marked themselves in Akna's mind at once.

She stared in delight at her new mistress. Not in her wildest fears had she imagined her once enemy and now mistress would be like this! She could almost see the Dragon-god's coils wrapped protectively around her, guarding her against any who would dare defy her. How could any warm-blood even try to stand in her way?

In that moment, Akna understood she would serve the Priestess with all her soul.

The priestess caressed Akna's neck, "When did she appeared? I thought all of her kind had been killed by the Warm-blood!"

Akna could hear the voices of the other sun-kings, but couldn't understand their words with the same clarity she understood the priest.

"We will take of you, girl." There was a look of concern in the priestess' eyes.

Akna couldn't resist pressing her head against the priestess' chest, rub her muzzle against her.

"Bring us a saddle and bridle," the priestess commanded, making Akna's feathers ruffle when she realized what was about to happen.

They were quick to attach the saddle and bridle to Akna, but very careful, each strap being checked twice to make sure it wouldn't chaff and demands for a custom-fitted set to be made immediately.

The priestess took the reins in her hand and mounted Akna with practiced ease, after so many years since she had last ridden her body still remembered the movements.

"Let's see how fast you can go, girl," the priestess was laughing and it was all the encouragement Akna needed to dash ahead.