WIP Story Preview - The Fall of Deimos (Patreon)

Been a bit since I've been writing but I'm getting back into it! And so, I wanted to share a small part of a bigger piece I'm working on to test out this world I'm writing. I hope you enjoy!

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"SO, MORTAL," the Dread Dragon rumbled, "YOU FIND YOURSELF IN THE CHAMBERS OF ONE OF THE MOST FEARED ENTITIES IN ALL YOUR PUNY HISTORIES. I AM THE UNDERSEER-" ("Not a word, but okay.") "-OF THE BROILING DEPTHS THAT GAVE FORM TO THE VERY GROUND YOU STOOD UPON. AND SO I ASK YOU - DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU OFFER TO ONE SUCH AS I?"

Petro had been half-listening as Deimos was monologuing, putting his backpack on a dresser that reached up to his collar-bond and was as wide as a queen-sized bed against the obsidian walls. Upon closer inspection, the "obsidian" was peeling at the doorframe behind the furniture suggested a different pattern underneath. Petros hardly had time to look before the Underseer of the Roiling Depths stomped over a little too quickly and placed himself in between the summoner and the dresser.

Petro would try to peek around Deimos, and the fell fellow would move to block hid gaze. He craned his neck upward to look at Deimos and raised an eyebrow. The skull-headed dragon looked down with the ember-red eyes burning through the darkness as tiny rivulets of magma gathered and cascaded down his brow. Petro didn't think it possible for a demon to sweat, but he relented to keeping the prior room decoration a secret. For now.

"Well, I can offer you some tips for your presentation," Petro began, "First - don't show your hand too early, or people can see what your priorities are - and what to focus on."

Deimos was attempting to look subtly at one or both of his hands, before putting both behind his back when Petro was looking at him. Petros stared for a moment and Deimos blinked back at him. 

He cleared his throat and poked the dragon's belly. It was hot, but never to the point of burning. Deimos jumped in his skin and attempted to back away from the prodding point of Petro's finger - first bumping into the dresser behind him before turning and retreating again. Petro continued to push, "Second - know when to hold your ground and when to make a tactical retreat. And third..."

A final poke had the Dread Dragon gloriously fall backwards onto his king-sized bed with a very dignified and regal "meep". The regal robe swathed from Deimos' shoulder and around his waist had shifted in the fall. Petro had nearly lost count when he saw the dragon's mammoth member exposed and twitching. Hid face grew into a smirk as he placed a hand upon the titanic man's inner knee.

"Always know what you want out of an alliance."

The top half of Deimos' skull lit up much like a lampshade as he hesitated with showing his hands too early and poorly attempted to conceal his growing excitement. He was breathing through his nostrils in short huffs, coming out in puffs of smoke.

"AND...WHAT - PRAY TELL - DO YOU SEEK IN AN ALLIANCE WITH THE DREAD DRAGON, MORTAL?" Deimos inquired.

"It's quite simple, really: I've always wanted to ride a dragon..."

"HMPH! AS IF I WOULD SUBMIT MYSELF TO A TINY HUMAN"

"Am I correct in assuming your servants are lacking the ability to...accommodate your kingly needs?"

"I LACK FOR NOTHING IN MY NEEDS OR WANTS."

"When was the last time someone took you?"

The Dread Dragon - Underseer of the Primordial Depths - said nothing. He did not meet Petro's gaze.

"I can fit it, you know..." the summoner offered, "Dimensional magic and all that. I give you a good ride, I lead you through your broken seal and then I advise you on making a place for yourself in the mortal plane."

There was a palpable pause. Deimos grumbled and adjusted himself. "A THRICE-BOUND BARGAIN IS...AGREEABLE. YOU SHALL HAVE YOUR CONTRACT, MORTAL."

"You can call me Petros, you know."

"VERY WELL. YOU MAY HAVE THE PRIVILEGE OF KNOWING MY TITLE; DEIMOS."

"Charmed. Now to uphold my first part of the bargain..."