Consciousness swims back to you, bringing with it the smell of sweat and smoke and a dull throbbing through your head. Blinking into the dim light, you find yourself in a large tent made from tanned hides and wide timber beams. The packed earth floor is bare except for a small cookfire opposite you.
Your back and rear and arms ache as well, and there’s a biting sensation at the corners of your mouth. You try to move to relieve the tension, but find your hands tightly lashed to a post behind you. You taste metal and your mouth is dry, and you realize a crude cloth gag occupies your mouth. Rawhide straps hang vacant from the other tent-poles, and though your head is thick and muzzy, you figure you’re in a prison. You become painfully aware that you’ve been stripped, though it’s warm enough to not be overly uncomfortable.
Panic thrills through your body as you try to remember how you got here. Vague, fleeting memories of the road, and a heavy impact are all that return to you. But you haven’t the time to sit with your dread, as the tent flap opens and a hulking reptilian strides in.
Bare from its scaly head to its taloned toes, the lizard is heavily muscled and well over seven feet in height. A toothy grin splits its face as it sees you, a low growl rolling out of its throat. A powerful tail lashes behind it as it pads through the yurt towards you.
“I lucked out,” he growls, a wicked chuckle rumbling out of him.
How will things turn out?