Some more painting practice!

HUGE THANKS to  verebat for coming up with a story for this! Go check him out if you haven't already! He's got some wonderful writing.

The soupy fog outside clings to the dungeon's exterior, the murk swallowing the remnants of daylight. You feel the liquid in the air with each breath. Each labored step down the ramp of slick, obsidian stone sends a jolt through you, nearly tripping you more than once as your boots struggle to find their footing. Reaching the bottom, you gasp for air, only to be met by the cavernous maw of the dungeon, gaping wide as if ready to devour you whole. The pattering of water about you confirms you are deep in the bowels of a swampy place.

Panic threatens to drown your thoughts, already muddled by the exertion of the descent. You are alone. Legends of this place echo in your mind, chilling whispers of adventurers who vanished, never to be seen again, forever altered by the depths and whatever inhabits them. Mere fables, you convince yourself, just another layer of mythologizing a little-known place. Though, it may just be so unpopular for that very reason. Perhaps coming alone wasn’t a good idea. Though fast with friends, none agreed to come with you.

An unsettling presence engulfs you as you step into the receptive maw of the cavernous depth. It isn’t long that you encounter someone as you traverse the dimly lit passages. Leaning against a bench of rock stands a creature of reptilian magnificence, its draconic form shimmering with an unearthly violet against the dull, oppressive backdrop. The stench of rubber assaults your senses, stark against the damp earth and mossy stone. Its eyes, mesmerizing pools of swirling orange, lock onto you, demanding your undivided attention. So effective that you don’t question their magnetic grips. A grin, unsettlingly wide, splits its face.

"A long journey, weary traveler," its voice rumbles with a quality unlike any human’s you’ve encountered. "But I urge you. Spare yourself. These very boots and blade you see me play with belonged to the last adventurer who dared enter. Now, they adorn me from within me, a treasured armor I doubt they now desire to relinquish."

The violet Dragon’s body produces strangely lewd creaks as he steadies himself on his powerful legs, somehow shimmering even as his form’s surface drips upon itself like liquid over something, or in this case, someone.