The Terror of Yorn's Town
It is almost sundown, and the sky is a deep ruddy hue, the color of spilled blood. A sound splits the chill air, heavy wings beating a path overhead.
A powerfully-muscled form drops into view, hovering above the clearing, black scales seeming to glow red in the light of the dying sun, Cruel black eyes look out from a skull-like face framed by twisting, ridged horns.
The dragon is bigger than two huge oxen, with a wingspan longer than three tall men. A throaty, rumbling sound wet with bile escapes the fanged maw, and after a moment you realize it is laughter…a bitter, phlegmy sound.
A young black dragon slain by the Heroes of Hathwick (as the people of Yorn’s Town nicknamed them) after extorting Yorn’s Town for several years.