Rhuav Skull Splitter let out a grunt as she swung her axe, massive muscles flexing beneath her sweat-glistening green skin as she did. The axe was heavy and its blade sharp, allowing it to chop through many things, even without the raw strength of an orc barbarian behind it. As such, it sliced through the dense foliage with ease, allowing her to make her way through the jungle. A fact which had helped her work through it for however many hours it had been.
Then she reached it. In front of Rhuav was a clearing, but not a natural one. The trees had been uprooted or broken, with the rest of the plants in the area withered and blackened. Multiple patches of soft dirt had been crushed down, leaving large prints behind.
Dragon prints.
One large green hand ran through bright purple hair. Nearly black lips pulled back in a wide, predatory grin. Rhuav had done it. She had found the dragon's lair. More importantly, she had done it on her own.
The grin shifted into a scowl as she thought back to the rest of her party. As soon they had heard that there was an evil dragon in the jungle, the five of them had all agreed that they should hunt down and slay the creature. Then all the others had turned cowardly, the same way they always did. It was never enough to simply decide to do something and then do it. No. Instead, they had to sit around and spend hours talking about how they were going to do it. They called it "planning," or something.
She called it a waste of time. What was the point of talking about what needed to be done? It was better to just go out and do it.
So, she did. Before the sun had risen, Rhuav had left the party sleeping at the inn, and made her way into the jungle. It was simple: she alone would find the dragon, kill it, and bring back the head as a trophy. That would show the others that doing was more important than talking. She would still let them have some of the treasure, she was not greedy, but she would take a larger portion since she did all the work.
With those thoughts in mind, the orc woman made her way across the clearing and toward the entrance.
Axe drawn and ready, she made her inside. The soft soles of her boots muffled her footsteps against the stone, not as much as a rogue, but enough that it was hard to hear without trying. As she walked further, the tunnel quickly grew dark. Not that it was a problem for her. She could see just fine in the dark, although it was a world nowhere near as colorful.
After walking for however long (she did not bother to keep count, even if she had known how), Rhuav reached a small chamber. The floor of it was littered with bones of humanoids, and other creatures, chunks of armor and shields, and weapons, new, old, whole, and broken.
One particular weapon caught her attention. It was an orcish double-axe: a weapon where each end had its own double-sided axe head attached to it. They were supposed to be an incredible weapon, letting the warrior wielding it kill a lot of enemies quickly and easily.
That was... the ones that did not accidently kill themselves with it. More than one orc had made the mistake of driving the other axe blade into their own bodies.
Rhuav may not have been the smartest, or the most careful, but she knew how to use a weapon. Plus, she was about to go up against a dragon, and anything that let her do more damage would be helpful. The quicker she could take it down, the better chance she had at surviving. Although, even if that were not the case, she would still want it. It was still quite an impressive weapon, and while the others in her party would not much care, there would be other adventurers who could appreciate such a find.
As her fingers wrapped around the handle, a tingle shot up her arm and through her body. Rhuav could feel it running across her skin and sinking into her muscles.
Magic. Of course it was magical. It was a hard to find weapon, in a dragon's cave, that was still in great condition. It should have been obvious, but it never even crossed her mind. Still, the shock had not hurt, and she did not feel any dumber or weaker. So, either there was no curse, or there had been one, and Rhuav was able to overcome it.
With the new weapon in hand and an excitement of using it in her heart, she made her way out of the chamber and down another tunnel. As she went deeper, the air grew cooler, damper. It began to stink of blood and rotting meat. Several times, she walked through something sticky and wet. It was one of the few times she regretted not wearing shoes, as she could feel it against the bare calloused skin of her feet.
Rhuav found her way to the main chamber.
There before her laid the dragon. Unmoving. Not even the rise and fall of its breathing could be seen.
Slowly, quietly, she made her way toward the figure, axe at the ready. She watched the form intently, ready to freeze where she was or rush forward and strike if the creature awoke. With each step, the floor grew wetter, stickier. The air grew thicker with its horrid stench. So much so, that the others probably would have gotten sick from it.
As Rhuav moved closer, she could make out more and more details of the creature. One such thing was a massive wound on the dragon's side. Reaching out, Rhuav touched it. The wound was wide and deep enough that she could sink her four fingers in to the knuckle.
For the second time, magical energy shocked her. A tingle of pain shot through her hand and up to her shoulder. Her entire arm went numb and limp, falling for her side.
Rhuav swore as she shook her arm, regaining feeling. She tensed the muscles and flexed her fingers to double check.
Everything seemed fine.
With a word and a wave of her hand, torches ignited throughout the cavern. No longer was the world dark shades of gray. Now Rhuav could see the colors of the room and everything in it: the green of the dragon's scales, the red of its blood on the floor, and the glittering of metal from its treasure.