"Monsters... and dragons..."
"What kind of monsters? What kind of dragons?" Lorne asked curiously.
"You don't seem scared at all."
The old drunk gave Lorne a slightly surprised look and let out a drunken hiccup.
"I'm not joking, outsider. That legend is frighteningly real! Over the years, plenty of people who refused to believe it really did die mysteriously in their sleep near that wilderness."
"I like adventures, and..." Lorne paused, then said in a tone that was half joking, half serious:
"I'm actually a 'monster' myself."
"Pfft..."
The old drunk rolled his eyes, his face full of disbelief. "You? If you're a monster, then I'm a knight who can kill a dragon with a single punch."
Hey, hey, does nobody believe the truth these days?
"As for what you asked, what the monsters in those dreams look like... who knows? They say everyone encounters a different monster in their dreams, whatever they fear most deep down. As for the dragons..." The old drunk took another swig.
"They're the big fellows you read about in fairy tales, with enormous wings and scales all over their bodies. Heh heh..."
The description sounded like some kind of nightmare monster. And the dragons seemed connected to dreams and the realm of the mind as well... Lorne quickly analyzed it inwardly.
It reminded him of Father Utravsky's Mental Terror Candle, which also seemed to have come from something a dragon had left behind.
It looked like this place might really be hiding some incredible treasure...
"Thanks for sharing."
Lorne stood up, paid for the man's drinks, and turned to leave.
"By the way, how did you know all this? Isn't that place pretty remote?" he casually asked one more question.
"Because I grew up in that village."
"I hope everything is all right