Dame Mara dismounted her horse some distance from the crag ahead. Fierce roars and sounds of battle issued from the crag, smoke billowing from the heart of the cavern. The knight strode forward, at just over six feet tall her shining silver armor reflected the bright sun, and her armor held over a build bulky enough to support it. She crouched down to fix a piton over the edge of the cliff, tied a rope, and slipped down into the caverns below.
The Maneater of Old Bastia lay below, a fierce dragon who had devoured many rival knights who sought to slay it. As she slid down the rope she felt heat from the beast's belly warming her armor, its fierce roars echoing through the crag.
Her boots touched down and she drew her sword and shield. Each cautious step led her closer to her quarry, her fight, and with each step the roars grew louder. Hearing the beast just on the other side she steeled herself, and wheeled around the corner with a battle cry.
She came face to face with a fierce red dragon, its head a few feet short of being as long as her entire body. Two claws could easily lift up a horse. The dragon stumbled awkwardly, snarling at her.
"Maneater of Old Bastia! I have come to do what other men couldn't and finish you off!"
The dragon roared back shaking stone loose around the cavern, a yellow glow deep in her throat that shimmered with heat.
Then she paused, sitting back up. "Wait... you're no man."
"Maneater of Old Bastia! I've come to finish you!" She charged and struck at her scales, blade bouncing off her thick hide, the dragon doing... nothing. She loafed, a touch breathless, and scooted the knight back as her sword clattered off her scales again.
"Fight me!"
"Honey, no." Came her deep voice as she pushed the charging knight back a few paces again.
"Fight me!!"
"Little knight, what did you just call me?"
The knight stepped back, ready to take another swing. "You're the Bastard of Blackstone! The Maneater of Old Bastia!"
"Well, we can do without that bastard bit." Her reply comes collected, a measure of confidence and power in the situation. "Man-eater. You don't look like a man to me, now do you?"
Still panting a confused look struck her face. The dragon laughed, very much so in control as she lowered his head to her. "No, you don't. You may address me as Velyth. What should I address you as?"
With each word the dragon spoke she could feel the bass of it in the plates of her armor. "Dame Mara, or Mara. I've come to-"
"I expect you to. You've caught me during a very private moment. Now that you've thrust yourself into that moment-" her thick tail sweeps around the cavern, walling Mara off and bringing her closer to the dragon's warmth. "I expect you to be a knight of your word."