Massive thank you to Deriaz for creating this beautiful scene with my Dragonborn character Veilthar, and the mighty Red Dragon Arix, who of course belongs to one and only Arix!
Make sure to fave the original submission here as well!
You're curious what happened here hmm? Well, you're in for a treat, because here you can read it all from Arix's perspective, and right below, there's the same scene from Veilthar's point of view. There's quite a bit to unpack, so strap in, and enjoy the ride...
Happy Biceptember too!


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A bone-brittling blizzard roared through a certain village high in the mountains. Hardly a rare event, people had already taken shelter in their houses or taverns built to survive way worse. The more unusual was the lone, dark figure walking through the cold, shirtless, barefoot, covered by nothing but a short, dark brown cloak around the neck, a pair of shorts, and an elaborate utility belt. A wide smile decorated the draconic face as if this were but a walk on a beach, where the freezing snow is just some soft sand and the flesh-numbing wind little more than sunshine.

He entered the bustling tavern, taking longer than necessary to close the door as the cozy warmth of the interior touched his scales and soothed the highly defined muscles, as did the confused gazes of the other patrons. The purple, glowing eyes scanned over the establishment, noticing several interesting groups and individuals, including a similarly shirtless red dragon whose strength seemed to dominate several arm-wrestling matches, how lovely…
Most others looked upon this mysterious, black-scaled Dragonborn with widened eyes, shrinking back in their seats, torn between the urge to stare at this unusually well-built physique and the natural caution against it. It was always amusing to watch these initial reactions, counting how many people nearly choked on their food upon seeing the new arrival, seems like 3 this time.

Then, a familiar, sweet scent hit his nostrils, one that led him to the bar counter where a bunch of other patrons already enjoyed their drinks. A whip of the tail pulled up a seat, and the wood groaned a little under the weight as this over 2-meter-tall hunk took his spot among other men as if it always belonged to him. Leaning the elbows on the counter, The Dragonborn let out a sigh of relaxation, allowing the pleasant warmth of the place to seep into his muscles, bringing relieving comfort. The thickness of these powerful arms already dwarfed the torso of the neighboring elf, who struggled to retain their composure, mostly due to the shameless, almost invasive proximity of this large Dragonborn, especially since they themselves were on the slimmer side even for elven standards. Was it a challenge? An attempt to assert dominance? What would he order? Probably the strongest drink just to prove superiority further. He toughed out the lethal cold outside with ease, so downing 3 mugs of raw spiritus wouldn't come as a surprise, they thought.

Then, the ever-professional bartender, an imposing bearded man with a scar across the eye, came over, internally worried too, but maintaining a polite tone.

“It’s rare to see the likes of you around here. You must have come from very far. What can I get you?”

The new arrival didn’t reply immediately, taking a moment longer to enjoy the warmth, rolling these overly defined shoulders, causing them to ripple visibly as the lamp’s light danced across the black scales. The suspense was palpable, as if that part of the tavern held its breath, the fight or flight responses already preparing to spring into action, but then, a deep, charmingly friendly, calm, and warm voice poured out of these draconic jaws like honey from a freshly harvested beehive.

“Indeed, you guys put that mountain quite far from… well, anything. Can’t help but appreciate the effort, but right now, I’ll have the largest mug of hot chocolate you can make. The sweeter the better!”


The nearby patrons blinked a few times and looked around as if to confirm that the source of the voice was in fact this intimidating Dragonborn, even the bartender had a pause, but quickly snapped out of it.

“Of course… Coming right up!”

The bearded man initially walked over to the tank with mead, but then realized that the order was… Hot chocolate? That's less than expected, but there was something reassuring about someone so intimidating not ordering any alcohol. Last thing the place needed was more brawls, especially with all these brutes in the back… luckily, they seemed occupied. The establishment did have various kinds of fresh, hot chocolate, crafted specifically to counteract the low temperatures outside.

“Here you go, a potion of warmth and major satisfaction. Enjoy.”

The Dragonborn's eyes looked like those of a child whose lifelong dream came true, taking a long sniff of the soothing mixture, savoring the sweetness even before it hit the tongue as a shiver of pleasure already shot through his larger frame.

“Thank you. Makes walking through 3 blizzards worth it… Don't ask how I got lost initially, these two glowing things in a cave weren't crystals…”

He says before lifting the sizable mug and letting that exquisite liquid flow down the thirsting throat. The angle at which the arm was bent gave the neighboring elf a perfect view over that large, peaky, incredibly sculpted bicep they couldn't tear their eyes away from, briefly forgetting the surroundings as the entrancing sight took over the senses just as much as the rich chocolate taste took over The Dragonborn’s.

After essentially inhaling over half of the mug big enough for a small family, The Dragonborn set it down with an audible thud, licking the black-toothed jaws clean and letting out a deep rumble of contentment, making his chest muscles ripple slightly. The expression was one of pure ecstasy, as if the simple drink was secretly a divine nectar that soothed the very soul. Nothing else existed in that moment, just an incredible taste of chocolate and the waves of pleasant sensations that coursed throughout the powerful body.

Then, with a lazy, but very practiced and oddly specific flick of the wrist, a spectral floating hand appeared above the mug and began stirring the remaining liquid with two of its fingers to maintain the perfect consistency. Seeing the mage hand wasn't exactly unheard of, but seeing one summoned by someone like this, especially with ease, to do such a trivial task, did raise eyebrows.

“You… you can do magic?”

The human on The Dragonborn's other side asked in surprise, the words slipping out of their mouth before thoughts could catch up, already shying away in regret for speaking up.
Then, these purple glowing eyes glanced down at the human with warmth and amusement in equal measure, and the voice matched that attitude.

“Why of course, as a Sorcerer, it's only natural, isn't it?”

The man was just as taken aback by that information as he was by the friendliness it conveyed. A Sorcerer? This towering wall of muscle? It seemed absurd, yet the longer one allowed themselves to be in the presence of that Dragonborn, the more apparent the aura of mystery became. The glow in these eyes had to come from somewhere, after all.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn't know you were… you don't look like, uhm…”

A deep chuckle interrupted these words, once again amused by the shyness, but then the expression softened further, smiling down at the smaller man. There was a strange sense of… protectiveness coming from this otherwise intimidating figure, as if thoughts of dominance didn't even cross his mind.

“I know, I get that a lot. Relax though, I ain't gonna curse you for assuming things, especially when wizard robes fit me as well as a skirt does a frost troll.”

He says with a smirk, the hint of humor was already enough to disarm any leftover tension in the atmosphere. The focus then returned to the mug of chocolate. The spectral floating hand, unstained by the liquid, lifted the mug up to The Dragonborn's jaws and allowed him to drink as if it were a natural, third hand, all while the thick arms casually rested on the counter.
Feeling more at ease, the human mustered up the courage to ask further.

“So uhm… what can you do? Sling fireballs? Turn people into frogs? Manipulate thoughts?”

The smile was visible even through the pleasure of drinking, then another satisfied sigh interrupted the sip, and the mug now hovered in front of The Dragonborn, held by the mage hand.

“The last two for sure. As for fireballs, I’ve never had an affinity to that element, so no to that, but lightning does the job just as well, if not better, I assure you.”

“I can imagine… You must have plenty of tall tales, right? Mind sharing some? It'd certainly be a lot more interesting than anything that happens around here.”

The Dragonborn then thought for a moment, scratching his chin a bit, and if it wasn't for the obviously focused and thoughtful expression, he could be accused of purposefully showing off that pronounced bicep, which shifted visibly with every subtle motion.

After taking a look around, it seemed like more than one person was interested. Several listeners appeared to be drawn by that smooth voice and unique presence, even if they lacked the courage to express it. With a grin, the mage hand poured the rest of the mug’s content into the black-toothed jaws and settled it down before disappearing. Then, the imposing figure rose from the seat and began slowly walking toward the center of the tavern, tracing the hands along the air as glowing, purple streaks began emanating from them, leaving behind magical trails that flashed various images of the events and environment described by The Dragonborn who's voice gently began stealing attention from each patron one by one, as if the enchanting display of magic and bare musculature didn't already. There were also musical notes that played off of the glowing streaks, further enhancing the spectacle.

“Across time, across space, where wonders sleep, mysteries hide, horrors lurk, and dreams stir, there are many who seek to find, conquer, discover, or simply explore the vast expanse that is the multiverse…”

The glowing streaks flew between patrons, as did the small illusory wisps, butterflies, mysterious fey creatures, and colorful shapes, spinning throughout the establishment like a magical spiderweb, progressively catching the attention of the whole tavern within it.

“Many tales hail from different places, ones more or less vivid, more or less exaggerated, but today, I'll share a particular lil adventure that stands out in my memory…”

With those words, brief flashes of what looked to be entire stories showed up across the tavern, ranging from fierce battles across a deathly landscape against some kind of undead monstrosity, to magical journeys through Feywild where a party of adventurers riding unicorns chased after what looked to be a wounded pegasus. From whimsical to terrifying, the images soon had the whole tavern quiet down, entranced by the display and ambiance music that accompanied the illusions, all before it settled on a single, larger image in the center where everyone could see.

“There was once a time when I traveled along with a group of unique adventurers, and on our journey, we stumbled upon a certain fort…”

With a swing of the hand, the magical trail shot forward and showed a glimpse of a mountain road with a large fortress embedded into the side of the mountain.

“...This fort wasn’t our objective, far from it, a mere landmark on the way towards our real destination, which is a whole other story for a different time, but…”

Then the illusion zoomed in on the fort as The Dragonborn kept walking between the tables, revealing armored hobgoblins stationed at the towers.

“...this mining fortress looked interesting enough, so on a whim, we decided to approach and check it out. Tell me, dear audience, how much manpower do you think it’d take to conquer a fortress like this?”

The Dragonborn asks, and some gather the courage to respond, their guesses ranging from an army of a few dozen to a few thousand once more of the fortress is revealed through the elaborate, floating images. The Sorcerer chuckled under his breath as the purple energies began flowing through the muscular form, highlighting its already impressive definition. Power coursed through him as the shapes became more and more vivid, larger and more realistic.

“Well my friends, let’s see how the situation develops…”

Then the image shifted to the traveling party approaching the gate: a young but scholarly Wizard who seemed to be noting down every bit of the journey, a young noble Bard with golden hair, a masked, menacingly dressed Cleric, and of course, The Dragonborn himself, clad in heavy armor that still kept his large bicep stylishly exposed.

“Ey, what are ya lot doing over there?”

One of the illusory hobgoblins barked out, which briefly startled the tavern. It sounded as if there really was a person speaking there, and looked like it too.

“As a disciple of the order domain, I demand entry to this fort, and you shall obey!”

“Uhm, what my ever-reliable Cleric friend meant is that we’re simply traveling by and are curious about this place. Mind if we enter and have a look around?”

The young Bard said after the masked Cleric’s stern words, which made the hobgoblins look at each other with confusion, which soon turned into slightly creepy smirks.

“25 gold per entry. Cough up the toll or get lost!”

“Now, we had more than enough gold to pay them and enter fairly, but since when are Hobgobs honest people anyway? So, after a quick glance between the party members, I quickly gathered some pebbles lying around, made them appear gold, put them into a spare bag, and tossed right over. Didn’t suspect a thing.”

Then the illusion showed the hobgoblins grinning and almost fighting over the bag filled with fake gold nuggets before the gates opened and the party was let inside, led down a totally not-suspicious dark path towards the basements.

“This way, this way, a few formalities first, then you’re all free to go.”

One of the hobgoblins said as the party walked along with the escort of several armored warriors. Then the group split as The Dragonborn and the Cleric were asked to enter one dark room, and The Bard and Wizard entered another, each with around 5 other hobgoblins.

“At this point, we all knew something was up, but there was little time to discuss details of what to do, so… we improvised.”

Then the projection showed a thrown dagger narrowly missing The Dragonborn’s head as one of the hobgoblins attacked, and the rest braced for combat. However, instead of fighting back The Dragonborn raised his hands and called out a warning, unknowingly to all, sneakily casting a mysterious spell...

“Wait! I sense a presence of a great disease… the darkness in this place is hungry, it haunts one of you!”

“What? Tryin to distract us? Ya better-...”

“AAAAGGGAAARRRHHHH!!!!”

One of the hobgoblins suddenly freaked out, backing up against the wall as if trying to fight off something terrible that only he saw. Other soldiers thought he was just faking it, but then very real blood began spilling as if something tore into the hobgoblin, and the screams of terror only intensified. In an act of panic, one of the soldiers just cut off the screaming hobgoblin’s head, freezing the expression of fear on it permanently. Blood stained the panicked soldier, and the Cleric couldn’t help but grin, already catching onto his role.

“Oh no… the dark infection… it spreads through blood, and you just spilled it! You’re all probably infected now! But fear not, this mighty Cleric is one of the few who know the cure. Heed his command else everyone here is lost!”

Few purple glows and lingering shadowy smokes oozing off of the blood convinced the hobgoblins near immediately.

“Listen! We must inform your leader of the presence of this foul infection. Take us to him at once!”

Meanwhile, The Bard and The Wizard in the second room experienced a similar attempt at their lives, yet, in a far more brutal fashion, a well-placed casting of Shatter turned the whole room into a splatter of blood, leaving dismembered corpses behind, and a broken door. At about the same time, the soldiers burst out of the room and rushed upstairs, with the party reuniting close behind. Of course, after a few flicks of the wrist, The Bard and The Wizard were magically cleaned off of blood, too.

“And just like that, we were being led directly to the captain of this mining fortress while the panicking, screaming hobgoblins rolled through the fort like tumbleweeds, raising eyebrows of many. All I had to do now was plant a few whispers in the minds of some of the soldiers we passed, confusing them further, and preparing for the next steps…”


The following interaction of the blood-stained group and their captain was also quite amusing. The big boss did not believe any of it at first, especially after seeing the group of adventurers, but, seems like the conviction already instilled in these hobgoblins burned brighter than the authority of their captain.

“You are the leader of this mining fortress, yes? We have detected the presence of a dark, deadly disease among your men, hence why we came. Every single person in this fort must be gathered in one place so I can examine and treat them at once. With every second, we risk it spreading and annihilating this whole army in a span of days.”

“We’ve been tracking that wretched disease for a long time now. It sprouts seemingly out of nowhere, causing hallucinations, whispers of impending doom, sensations of unexplained fear, and mind-breaking pains, all until eventually these visions become so real, they eat the victim from the inside out…The Dragonborn here is able to sense it, and this man is able to cure it. Please, you must listen to us!”

The Cleric and The Bard within the illusion explained, then the focus shifted to some more hobgoblins who happened to overhear the whole thing.

“I’ve been hearing whispers… is that bad?”

“Uhm… I think I saw something wobbling in the shadow over there…”

“That’s a rat you dumbass!”

“Oh… wait, how did you know there was a rat there?”

“I dunno, just a thought that occurred to me.”

“You mean… whisper?”

“...”

“...”

The feeling of dread was palpable, and self-fulfilling prophecy seemed to be rolling all by itself now, spreading more and more panic and confusion among the soldiers. The Captain, however, did not want to give in as easily.

“Buncha fools! There was never a rat there! There are no rats in this fortress! Only skewers! And an army of clanking idiots with worms for brains! This is an active facility, and I can’t afford to gather everyone in one place so you can walk up to every single one of the hundreds of my men and check on them, no, this whole disease is something we’ve never heard before you came in! You better-...”

Then, the defiant captain froze in place, his eyes going wide, as if seeing a nightmare made manifest. At the same time, The Dragonborn’s purple eyes widened too, showing great concern.


“Do you… do you see it? Do you see it coming for you? Oh no.. he’s infected already…”

“What? Cap’s infected? What do we do now?!”

“We’re all gonna die!”

“It’s gonna eat us!”

It did not take long before the captain began screaming and thrashing on the ground, but then, The Cleric’s booming voice brought all attention onto him in an instant.

“Men of this fortress, LISTEN! A great plague befell upon you all this day, but fear not, for I know of a cure! Gather all in the courtyard ahead. Separate every infected from those not yet afflicted, be wary of tainted blood, whispers of death speak through it! Now go!”

Then the images showed the panicking hobgoblins gathering everyone to the courtyard as commanded, dragging the protesting captain. Everyone who thought themselves infected stood on one side, and the supposed healthy ones on the other. From the conveniently placed balcony of captain’s quarters, the party had a clear view over the whole gathering.
With raised hands, as if speaking to devoted followers, the masked man’s voice flooded the courtyard like a tsunami, radiant magic already stirring around him.

“Soldiers! You’ve already heard of the disaster that touched you all this day. It is true, darkness creeps through the minds of some among you, threatening the sanity of all, but cast your doubts aside as holy fire shall cleanse the impurities and restore your minds!”

Then the illusory show dimmed a little, and The Dragonborn asked another question as the audience was thoroughly captivated.

“So… what do you all think the hobgoblins did after hearing this?”

Some speculated they knelt down as if The Cleric was a god of sorts, some thought they’d all just blindly obey whatever they’re told, and others guessed that the hobgoblins would soon realise that the infection is fabricated.

“Well, let me tell you, hobgoblin intelligence lived up to its name.”

With the following hand motions, the illusory show resumed and dark magic crackled beneath The Sorcerer’s scales, making the audience struggle to pay attention to both the vivid imagery and that astounding physique.

“...Wait, fire cleanses the infection?”

“Fire burns away the infection!”

“Burn the infected!”

“What? No! He meant-...”

“BURN THE INFECTED!”

“PURGE THE DARKNESS WITH FIRE!!!”

"FIREEEEE!!!"

“And just like that, the in-fighting began. Both sides started slaughtering each other. It was much less of a pleasant sight than the presentation here, but not that much less amusing, especially after our Wizard helped set up the pyre...”

The illusion indeed showed it all in a rather comical way that resembled a massive fight-tumble where nobody really knows what’s going on. It was rather necessary since the tavern had children also viewing the spectacle, and the cozy atmosphere didn't have to be ruined with the real imagery of the carnage. Then, the so far quiet Wizard, slung a big fireball right in the middle of the group, creating a big campfire out of corpses and drunken hobgoblins. The fire patch burned bright and kept getting fed with new corpses while the party watched from above. The Cleric wanted to say something, but The Bard stopped him, just to allow the chaos to progress. However, not all hobgoblins rushed into the fight. Be it out of fear or tiniest bits of intelligence shining through, some stuck to the sides and didn’t get involved.

“Not so long after, there wasn’t much left of the army, especially after reminding them that the infection spreads through blood, and now most of them were soaked to the bone with it. Some threw themselves into the fire, some got pushed in, and others were just frozen in terror. The remaining few dozen were addressed directly by our Cleric.”

“My children, you have contributed greatly to the purge of this foul infection. I can already sense the shadows lift… but it’s not over yet. Gather around in the center, as the final judgement shall commence.”

“We were totally planning to just fireball them right then and there, but our Bard had a different idea. What if we recruit them? They can’t function without a leader anyway, so why not have them join us? I wasn’t much in favor of this idea, as knowing what awaited our party likely meant that death here was more merciful than recruitment, but others seemed in favor, so I played along. We went down to them…”

The image now showed the group of soldiers getting struck by the Sacred Flame from The Cleric, one by one, getting supposedly ‘cleansed’. They cheered for their savior and agreed to ditch the previous orders. The captain was long burnt, they never liked him anyway.

“And this is the story of how ‘The Cleansed’ were formed, a brave army of those who survived a deathly plague of cursed darkness thanks to the holy aid of timely adventurers. Ohh the ironies… Still, turns out there were slaves at that fortress too, we freed them, escorted to safety, looted the fort… and the rest, is a tale for another time.”

With that, The Dragonborn clasped his hands together as if closing a book, and the illusory show vanished with only a few notes of music adding to the finality. The purple glowing magics within his form calmed down too, and the attention could finally be brought to someone who, perhaps unknowingly, was putting on an incredible show as well. That red draconic warrior, conquering the arms of several bulky brutes, all without breaking a sweat, one who attentively listened to the story, it seemed. For this Dragonborn, physical prowess like that couldn’t go unappreciated, but for as hard as it was to focus on maintaining the show rather than the magnificent biceps of that Red Dragon, one that held off a small crowd of people at once, The Sorcerer couldn’t afford to disappoint the audience. Now though, it seemed like this warrior was only emboldened by the closure to the story, already leaving the bunch of brutes in the dust with a single motion of his arm, displaying magnificent strength that made The Sorcerer let out a sigh of appreciation. The Dragon was approaching... how lovely…


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What happens next? Well... the story isn't over yet...