Deep within the Iron-Spine Mountains, dense forest blotted out the sky and sun.
Layer upon layer of canopy shredded the already dim daylight into fragments. Only a few sparse, ghastly white shafts of light pierced the gaps and fell slantwise upon the ground.
The air was humid and stifling, suffused with a faint scent of sulfur.
The trees here also carried a degree of draconic bloodline, making their appearance utterly different from forests on other planes.
The surfaces of their thick trunks were covered in dense, scale-like bark, like the cast-off shells of some gigantic creature. Serrated keratinous protrusions lined the edges of their leaves. Whenever the wind passed through, they gave off a faint scraping sound, like countless tiny scales grinding against one another.
Two tall figures were making their way through the dense forest with difficulty.
They moved extremely slowly, each step taken with utmost caution.
Their broad dragon wings were pressed tightly against their backs to avoid brushing against branches and making noise.
Their dark-red scales gave off a faint sheen in the dim surroundings, occasionally flashing like red-hot iron when touched by daylight. Both stood over three meters tall, broad-shouldered and thick-backed, their arms nearly reaching their knees when hanging at their sides.
Each had a pair of backward-curving dragon horns growing from his forehead, the patterns on them dense and distinct.
The patterns on a dragon-kin's horns symbolized the purity of their bloodline. The denser the patterns, the closer their bloodline was to that of true dragons.
The dragon-kin walking in front was somewhat taller, and his scales were darker as well, like congealed dark-red magma.
As he pushed aside branches of Scale-Leaf Trees blocking the way, he muttered in a low voice, "This damned place makes me uncomfortable every time I come here."
He