The group cautiously proceeded down the stairs, Cynder lighting the path with a couple magic orbs. With the exception of Dover's magically burning sword, they were otherwise surrounded in darkness. Driks led the way, followed fairly closely by Dover and Cynder, while Sophia brought up the rear. The other two guards remained upstairs in the unlikely case that the culprit returned or another threat approached.

  Each step was about five hands in length, making them awkward for human feet. Fortunately there were only about thirty before the stairway opened into a large stone room. Its size was such that Driks could have moved comfortably through it in his natural form. There were several paths branching off, and everything was dragon sized. Before the village was founded this was likely d’Ryepre's lair.

  Near the base of the stairs there were ancient shelves, which Driks quickly identified. “Looks like we found d’Ryepre’s changing room.”

  "Yeah... You’d know.” Dover muttered. “Where to next? Or do we just keep blindly turning right?"

  “That way!” Driks confidently declared, pointing to the right most passage.

  Dover sighed and shook his head at their supposed leader. “It’s going to be a long day isn’t it?”

  The first passage gradually slanted downwards before ending at a large pool of water. Judging by the direction they traveled, this was likely below the village well. Seeing that the water looked and smelled clean, Dover used it to fill an empty waterskin. He then offered it to Driks saying, "Here. Check if it's poison."

  "So cruel!" Driks exclaimed in mock dismay, mostly sure Dover had said it in jest. Dover was well aware of his ability to magically check, so even if it was toxic there wasn’t any actual risk. Regardless of the motivation, it was enjoyable to play along and it helped lighten an otherwise bleak task. After verifying it was safe, he took a deep drink and made a dramatic show of dying before hopping back to his feet with a dopey grin.

  Sophia and Cynder watched, shocked by his behavior. Dover just ignored it and turned around. It was clear that Driks had randomly chosen the tunnel as it was a dead end without any clues on where to go. Grumbling all the way, Dover led them back to the initial chamber and took the next path. This path had the feel of a home long abandoned. There were signs that someone had once lived here, but anything usable was long gone. They began down the final path and it quickly felt different than the others.

  The final path started with the same stone walls, but they were soon replaced by dirt. The passage had obviously not been used for years, but had signs of use sometime in the past. The group walked cautiously down before Dover called for them to halt as the earthy scent was replaced by a familiar, less pleasant, odor. It was a scent Dover knew quite well as he encountered it at the end of every hunt, blood.

  A short distance further the walls spread out and they saw a small ledge before a large pit. On the ledge was a stone altar surrounded by the remains of a ritual. As Cynder raised her light orbs higher into the air they were able to see there had been candles placed in key points throughout the entire room. Dover motioned for the party to stay by the entrance as he cautiously walked the path between the candles looking for clues. At the base of each candle was a long dried, and often cracked, bowl. With the dust of years, and the strong scent of blood in the air, there was no way to tell what they once held. Dover cautiously nudged one with his foot only to have it disintegrate from the lightest tap.

  Finishing his path around the room and briefly returning to the entrance he quietly asked, "Know of any rituals involving a pair of overlapping stars?"

  Driks quickly shook his head. Cynder considered a bit longer but soon shook her head as well.

  Dover shrugged at their response. "I’ll sketch it later for ya... Not here though... This ritual was hungry and whatever was in those bowls wasn't enough..."

  Taking a deep breath of relatively fresher air Dover then turned his attention to the pit. As he approached the scent of death grew stronger, almost making him choke. Expecting the worst he paused before looking down. Using the magical flame of his sword to provide additional light the first thing he saw were giant bones. He silently gave his respect to the village’s founder before looking deeper into the pit. Then he saw what he expected, the mangled remains of the villagers after they had fallen to their deaths.

  “Cynder, see what you can figure out about the ritual, but don’t touch anything.” With a grimace, he continued, “I’m taking a closer look in the pit.”

  Returning to the room's entrance he placed his pack on the floor and began searching through it before taking out a carefully coiled rope. Unrolling it he tightly tied one end around his waist and handed the other to Driks. "Take the rope and follow me. Don't you dare let go." With that the two of them headed to the ledge and Dover started climbing down.

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  On reaching the bottom Dover stepped carefully to avoid the mangled remains as he began looking around. Feeling his skin crawl as he looked around, he instinctively knew something was very wrong. At the center of the room was the skeleton of a dragon. The body seemed peaceful, as if it had laid down and simply died in its sleep. It had likely chosen this as its final resting place, a grave dug deep inside its lair. The bones were pristine and you could clearly see the shape of the body.

  The mangled remains of the villagers were another matter. They should have been skeletonized after so many years, but instead they were desiccated and dry, practically mummified. This made the horror of their deaths even worse as Dover recognized familiar faces from the village. He could also see how badly they'd been injured by the fall. His only consolation was that there were no signs of them being physically forced into the pit. The blank expressions permanently etched into their faces suggested most of them died instantly, completely oblivious to what was happening. Unfortunately those who survived the initial fall had been painfully aware of their horrible fate, their bodies frozen in their final desperate struggle to survive.

  Shouting up to the others Dover asked, “Hey Driks, what happens when a dragon dies?”

  “Depends!” Driks shouted back.

  “On what?”

  "Multiple things, though their element and final thoughts are most important. When a dragon dies all their power is suddenly released in a huge explosion of magic."

  “If I killed you what would happen?”

  Though Sophia and Cynder were startled by the question it was clear there was no malice in it. Driks answered it normally, "Depending on my mood, my death cry would either kill everything in the sound of my voice or create a lush forest."

  Dover considered that for a moment before asking, “what about other dragons?”

  “d’Teryx would probably turn to stone, d’Shxlash would create a lake or at least a massive amount of rain, the other two would likely obliterate everything in sight.”

  “So basic their element would manifest?”

  Driks was briefly surprised by the question. "Have we really never talked about this? Yeah. We're the Elemental Lords after all!"

  “What about this guy, what’s his element?”

  “Supposedly the same as me, life or nature.”

  After hearing his words Dover paused for long enough that Driks feared something happened. “You ever see a dead dragon?” he finally asked.

  “Some. Never watched any die, but I’ve paid my respects after the fact.”

  “I’m pretty sure this isn’t normal... Tell me I’m wrong.”

  While he had been avoiding looking into the pit, Driks finally approached the edge. Looking down he considered the carefully preserved skeleton, the empty dirt surrounding it, and the mangled human remains.

  Several minutes of silence passed before Dover uttered a simple “Damn.”

  “Yeah...”

  Both of their voices were devoid of emotion and none of their normal banter was present.

  Dover's next shouted words were directed towards Cynder. "It's some sort of power drain spell, right?"

  Studying the remnants of the ritual, and hearing Dover’s question, brought everything into focus. Everything used by the ritual, and even some things which were unrelated, had been fully consumed. Based on the pit's location, it was most likely the primary source of magical power for the ritual. All it would require were the proper markings.

  She whispered her reply before realizing there was no way for Dover to hear her at that volume. She then answered more strongly so they all could hear. “Yes.”

  The three of them all realized what that meant. Someone, or something, had killed a dragon and used its power for a ritual. That would have been dangerous enough, but the ritual required more than the power of a dragon, so much so that it drained the life from the entire village as well. This was bad, very bad.

  Dover climbed out of the pit and they regrouped. “What now, Driks?”

  “We track the bastard down and kill him, what else?”

  Looking at him blankly Dover questioned, “How? It's been years. Any trail is long gone.”

  “Haven’t you ever wondered how I always find you?”

  Dover looked at him quizzically.

  Driks tapped his nose, “I can smell your armor. Everywhere you go you carry a bit of my scent.”

  Dover glared at him, “Yuck. I didn’t realize you were a dog marking his territory.”

  Ignoring the insult he explained, “whatever did this will be drenched in the scent of d’Ryepre, we can find it anywhere.”

  “Good. Let's get outta here. You start tracking. I start prepping.”

  The group began the trek to the surface in silence.