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The dragon Balgrin didn't get many visitors. So it was a surprise to feel a warning from one of his wards. In this case it was from the one set on the main approach to his lair. Used only by those who came to pay him tribute. None was due this month from any of the lords he ruled. Perhaps this one was coming early.

Balgrin was a lean and muscled beast of red and amber. Wings folded tightly to his back. Draconic snout splashed with a hint of ebony at the nose. Straight horns set at the back of his head. His body was marked with a few scars from his past. A sword slash, a bite, a jagged mark from a spell. Nothing that had come close to stopping him.

He strode through his lair. Passing well used side tunnels that led to storages and resting chambers. The light of day streaming in through the main entrance. Outside were the remains of an old keep. Its walls and buildings battered but intact. Not that anyone used them. The main entrance to the keep itself was open, its doors having been destroyed a long time ago.

As he stepped out into the sunlight his gaze fixed on the keeps entrance. The distant sound of wooden wheels could be heard. In time a simple horse drawn cart made its way in. An older looking human sat on the cart holding the horse's reins. The horse snorted, shying back at the sight of the dragon. The cart came to a halt.

Balgrin rumbled, “I don't remember giving anyone permission to be here today."

The woman wore simple travellers clothing and boots. Over which was a long cloak. She pulled the hood back to expose pleasant weathered features. Tied back brown hair just starting to gray at the edges. Hazel eyes lifted to him for a moment before turning away. She stepped down from the cart and bowed low to him.

“Apologies dragon lord. I come with an early tribute from Queen Marah."

Balgrin snorted, “You come all this way alone?"

She straightened but kept her gaze down, “Of course not, my lord. I left my escorts at Woodsplitter. I would not dare approach with armed soldiers."

Balgrin canted his head while he looked her over. She had good manners at least. Finally he moved forward and leaned in to sniff at her scent. His snout a mere foot from her. Breath blew her cloak. The horse shied away and made the cart jump. To be frank the smell of its fear was making him hungry. His eyes narrowed on the human as he realized he didn't smell fear from her.

“You show no fear." He stated flatly.

“Queen Marah has had wonderful relations with you for years now. She assured me that you are an honorable creature and that I did not need to fear you as long as I showed you proper respect."

A grunt as he pulled his head back, “She has been prompt in her tributes and now she's early as well. So yes, she is correct. You have nothing to fear from me so long as you remember your place. Come then, show me this tribute."

Balgrin strolled back to the entrance of his lair to give the human room to maneuver her cart. She gripped the horse by its reins and turned him around. Then backed the cart up to the dragon. She secured the reins then removed the tarp from the cart. Under it were boxes, barrels and sacks of different sizes.

“First, my lord, we have the gold. Two sacks as always."

She pulled one heavy bag out. The jingle of coins clearly heard. The top pulled open to show him the glitter of gold inside.

“Naturally." A rumble of delight in his voice.

She hopped into the cart. Pointing out the other pieces of tribute to the dragon lord.

“Here is the wine, and the ale."

A smack of tail to stone, “Of course. I wouldn't be happy without it."

“And here are the furs."

A curl of his claws against the earth, “Good. I need to replace some of my worn bedding."

The human hopped down from the cart and pulled out a simple but sturdy looking box. After setting it on the ground she pulled out a key and inserted it into the lock hanging from the front.

“And what is this?" Balgrin asked.

She smiled, “Something different. The queen hopes you enjoy adding this to your collection."

The lock clicked open and the lid of the box lifted. She stepped aside to let the dragon lord see. Within was a longsword. The length of the blade gleamed in the light that poured over it. Steel with hints of red markings along the bottom half of the blade. The hilt of the sword was wrapped in dark leather. A scabbard rested beside it. The length of the scabbard was the same dark leather as the swords hilt but reinforced with bands of metal. Along its length images of flying dragons. Balgrin could feel the warm pulse of magic from the sword.

His tongue raked over his jaws, “Beautiful! Powerful. This would look rather good on my wall."

The woman bowed again, “Whatever the lord wishes."

He reached out to the sword, “A valuable gift. You can tell your queen I will remember this offering."

Balgrin touched the side of the blade. A single digit of his paw traced it. All at once a rush of power moved through him. An electric snap. His muscles tightened sharply in its passing. His body locked in place. Eyes widened in shock as the blade moved. In a flash it slipped from under his touch. Then shot towards him with the speed of an arrow. The tip of the blade parted his scales like hot metal through butter. A staggering wave of pain and cold washed through him. His forelimb still outstretched and shaking. As was the rest of him while the blade sank deeper.

The human smiled, “I'm sure you will my lord."

Desperate breaths forced past the dragons clenched jaws. Lines of saliva dripped from them. Eyes turned to try and see the blade as he felt it sink deeper. Towards his heart.

The human walked towards him. Smiled as she observed him with cold indifference. Her palm placed against the bottom of the hilt before she addressed him.

“Here, let me help you my lord."

She pushed. The blade, still sinking into him, did so quicker. Till the tip of the blade met his heart. A pulse of shocking cold washed through him. A strangled cry against his locked jaws. The length of his body spasmed. Eyes watered as another pulse followed and stole the power from his limbs. Yet he remained standing. Held. Each new pulse ripped through him with unbearable cold.

The woman's voice held a mocking edge, “Is something wrong my lord?"

New twinges of pain flared to life along the dragon's body. The Spasms that raked through him were followed by an intense pressure. Weighing on him from all sides. He heard a pop of bone. Then watched in horror as his extended arm began to pull towards him. Sinking into his body. The limb thinned. Claws pulled into the digits to vanish. His wings twitched as they began to ooze into his back. He felt each bone merge, blend and vanish. A low agonized growl as he felt horns retract into his skull and teeth pull back into his gums.

The woman touched him on his chest. Near where the sword was impaled, “Dont worry." She whispered up at him, “You won't die."

Balgrins digits merged together as his paws shrank from view. He could feel his chest press to the ground as the limbs grew too small to hold him up. Having shrunk till only nubs remained. They too soon vanished. Dragged into his body with an audible pop. His point of view grew lower still as hind legs began to retract. Rear paws merged back into the limb entirely as they grew too short to hold him. The pulses of cold that washed through him switched direction. Waves of cold pulling from him back into the sword. Each new pulse pulled a bit of him inwards. Tail dragged back into his spine. Genitals melted down with a burst of agony before vanishing.

The woman added after a moment's thought, “But you're going to wish you had."

Balgrins neck began to shorten. Head pulled closer to his torso. The woman reached up to caress a drool covered cheek as he was brought down to her level. There was a loud pop before things went silent. Ears absorbed into his skull. A blur began at the edge of his vision. His gaze fell on the woman who lifted a hand to casually wave at him. She mouthed the words, “Bye, bye.". A gray curtain cut off his sight. Darkened to black before he felt his eyes melted completely.

Vertebrae by vertebrae his body was pulled inwards. Drawn by the pulses that moved through him. He felt his lungs shrink. Breath pressed out of them in a great rush of air before they solidified, grew soft and vanished. Each organ followed suit one after another. Till only his heart remained. That too went silent. For long moments there was nothing. Only darkness and fear.

Balgrin felt himself fall. Felt the length of his body smack against stone and dirt. A ripple of vibration washed through the length of him. The feeling echoed with each bounce on the stone as he clattered to a stop. His mind writhed in its new cage. Long, sharp and cold. He could not speak, he could not see, but he could feel the steps of the woman walk towards him. He felt her fingers wrap around his hilt. With the tightening of her grip a powerful leash formed around his mind. His spirit chained.

Her voice a wave of pleasure, “There. Was that so bad?"

He twisted in his prison. The chains of her will tightened until he was forced to speak, “..Horrible!"

“I suppose for you it was. You really shouldn't have made so many enemies."

She lifted the sword, holding it in front of her. Balgrin felt every movement of his body. Felt every touch of the breeze against the blade with acute clarity.

“What have you done?" He managed. The sensations threatened to overwhelm him.

“You are the sword now dragon. I was paid to remove you and I have done so. They never said how to remove you and I have been looking forward to using this artifact for some time."

She spun him, testing his balance. The wind over his skin was incredible. Speech failed him as he gave in. His thoughts carried away by the breeze.

“You will obey me now. Won't you?"

The sword brought to a halt. The leash of power tightened. Pain began to fill him as he failed to answer. Finally he blurted, “Yes! Yes, I will!"

She smiled, “Such a good sword."

Balgrin felt himself pressed up against her flesh. The sharp edge of the blade was so close to cutting. A thirst swelled up in him. It grew to a desperate intensity. He groaned in anticipation of the cut. Wanting nothing else but a taste.

“Give it to me! Let me drink!"

She replied with a wicked smile, “Ask nicely."

“Please! Please I need it!" He cried out. Helpless.

She cut. A tiny prick against her arm. Drops of blood splashed against the metal. The taste was divine. Each drop a blossom of delight as they were sucked into the blade. When the drops slowed the thirst returned.

“Oh, please! Can I have more? I need more!"

A few more hit the blade before stopping entirely.

“I'm so thirsty! Mo-" Balgrins voice cut off as the blade was set down.

There he was left. Alone in the darkness with his thirst. Only the hint of a breeze against the blade. The power that bound him to her did not leave when he was put down. Instead he felt a need for her touch to return. To grip his hilt once more. Without her grip he had no purpose. Abandonment mixed with his thirst. He was left filled with desires and needs he could not fulfill or control.

When her grip returned relief flowed through him. Balgrin was lifted into her lap where a cloth was rubbed down the length of him. The sensation soothed the desires that had threatened to break him. Each stroke of the cloth a caress against his soul. He had never felt such peace in his long life.

“How do you feel Balgrin?" She asked as she cleaned the blade.

He was compelled to reply, “Wonderful."

Balgrin could hear that smile of hers as she answered, “So compliant already. You and I will get along fine."

The woman lifted Balgrin from her lap. Then turned him till his tip pressed into the scabbard. A smothering magic felt as she slid him smoothly into place. Leather and metal sheathed him. Pressing in tight. The entire length of him felt slid into a muzzle. Locked around both body and mind. He tried to call out to her but the words would not form. Thoughts began to scatter until his mind was a void. An endless sleep forced upon him till he was needed once more.

The woman patted the sword before setting it back in the box. She, naturally, had no reason to keep this sword but she was sure she could find someone to sell it to. Powerful magical blades were rare after all and worth every penny. A whistle on her lips and a spring in her step as she set about the wonderful task of looting the dragon's lair. It was a nice start to her day and it would only get better.