Hoard fit for a dragon

 You are an adventurer.

Toda you have found THE DRAGONS HOARD Unfortunately you can not leave because there's so much treasure and gold in this hoard so you're stuck guarding the gold, by yourself. for who knows how long until your adventuring party returns with carts

So you're here guarding a pile of gold while your adventuring party (whats left of it) go back down to the village at the bottom of the mountain to buy carts to haul all this loot back down.

And you've been here...a day...two? Your bedroll got fucked up by a goblin attack a day prior so you just decide to lay in the gold because it's there and it's better than the ground.

The gold is...warm..and surprisingly not as hard on the back as you'd expect a huge pile of metal to be. You sleep, easy.

you dream..you dream of luxury. people paying tribute to you, not out of any heroism, or desire for you to do anything for you, but to keep -you- happy. to keep -you- pleased.

Your armor doesn't fit so well when you wake up. it's little tighter in places, looser around the groin, itches in some places. you rip your gloves off. Were your nails that sharp last week? you pull out a mirror, your teeth...you should brush more.

another two days pass. the dreams keep happening, the village below you lavishing you in gifts, tribute, sacrifices. the last part feels like the subject of nightmare and yet when you wake you feel oddly disappointed.

you pulled off your armor yesterday...to tight, you haven't seen anything here to indicate the need for it anyway...your undersuit bulges with...no..

you pull the undersuit up along your forearm. SCales...Scales. shiny silvery grey scles reaching from your elbow in both directions. your mind races as you fall back into the gold

You wake up and find you've cut your tongue a couple times last while sleeping, your mouth is full of knives. You sword is shorter...you're worried if you've grown a little. You're "sword" is shorter...you're worried about what that could mean.

Three days. The scales keep spreading. You sit nude in the pile of gold. Where is your party?! You split time between nervously hoping they get here soon and detachedly watching your body for more alterrations

The dreams feel less detached. They feel like an escape, the humans are praising you, they send their weakest to you as meals. You don't question that you're treating them as though you are not also one of them.

This morning you woke...you're "sword" was gone. Somewhere the brave knight you were days ago is terrified. but your body has since been consumed with scales from head to toe...your back aches as a stub of tail extends out above your rear.

You don't know how to describe the sensation thats washed over you mentally as you watch all this happen to -you-

You are not scared. Not afraid. Curious. Interested. You have became twice your original height. The back aches continue as your shoulder blades seem to press out from your scaly back over the course of days. bony fingers with webbing between them grow bigger by the day

You've stopped counting the days. You are hungry...there is no food. You desire tribute

Your most recent sleep was long. When you wake your hands, your feet have changes. Big sharp claws, and pads designed to grip. Your wings expands as you stretch. The cave..your cave. is becoming...cozy...just the right size for you.

You hear voices. Human voices. they're familiar. The ones that left you here. You lay quietly in the horde of treasure in your lair. When they are too deep to turn back you position yourselves between them and the exit.

From instinct you open wide, and breath. Ice. Icey cold expands out from your throat. The mortals who entered your lair are covered, skin frosting over as they become little more than statues. more treasure for your horde

The sun and moon dance across the horizon outside the lair a multitude of time, your disconnect to the humans grows further. the knight that was guarding this gold is all that more harder to recall, like a distant dream

The statues melt, somehow your human prisoners survived. bodies covered in smoothened scales. You're going to keep them.

More time passes. your human captives change, just as you changed. Shrinking becoming more draconic though less so. They worship you. You enjoy this feeling of praise they lavish you in

There are no humans here anymore.

--

This was a gift for a very good friend of mine and I had posted it to twitter and have now compiled it to be here