The large city of Dalvax is situated perfectly at an important mountain valley crossroads. The narrow passes that converge at Dalvax bring trade through from the far corners of the world. The citizens of Dalvax have benefited from their city's status as a nexus of trade, and the wealth brought from tolling merchant caravans that had to pass through. For centuries, empires vied for control of this trade hub, until an ancient red dragon from the nearby mountains named Molvanar appeared. The dragon struck a deal with the local league of nobles and tradesmen that controlled Dalvax, liberating and protecting the bustling city from outside control, in return for an exalted, almost deific status among the local population. Molvanar demands the respects of the city's inhabitants, as well as a steady supply of food. The great red dragon has developed a particular taste for beautiful nubile maidens from across the diverse and fantastical lands that surround them. The great scaly predatory beast enjoys swallowing his female prey whole and alive. Molvanar enjoys the sensation of their desperate wriggling as they inexorably slide down his long, draconic throat, towards his merciless stomach. The mighty dragon has ruled over the mountain city for hundreds of years now, with an entire caste of female priests and acolytes charged with offering themselves as sacrificial live foodstuffs for the great dragon, Molvanar often bloating himself feeding on his faithful supplicants. Many nations vie for the favor of Molvanar, who can grant them special trade privileges and toll reprieves ac cross the lucrative trade path the city controls, offering the dragons shipments of female slaves for consumption, as well as riches in bribery. Many kingdoms, empires, and barbarian hordes have tried to conquer Dalvax throughout the centuries, but the fire-breathing dragon has been able to maintain complete control of the narrow mountain passages leading to the city, with the help of the Dalvax army. Many would-be conquerors have been incinerated, crushed, clawed apart, or otherwise destroyed by the ferocious Molvanar. Rumors have spread though, that the dragon has grown corpulent and lazy from his steady diet of prime women. Hearing these rumors, a local warlord has lead a large army through the southern passes to lay claim to the hoarded riches in the city. The troops are lined up in narrow rows, carefully marching up the pass as they laboriously port heavy siege equipment. The scouts of the warband, lead by a authoritative chieftan from distant lands, named Alberax, report that troops from Dalvax have been seen on the high, treacherous peaks of the mountain, as if waiting in ambush. In response, Alberax is approaching with great caution, expecting an ambush, his stores bloated from the many trade caravans he has robbed on the warpath to Dalvax city. With a cry, a distant scout shouts "Dragon!", Alberax and his generals quickly commanding their troops to unlimber the ballistae and catapults to bring down the flying, fire-breathing terror. Cross-bowmen as well train their bows in the air, expectantly for the fearsome Molvanar. Suddenly though, several of the troops are distracted by a steady rain of rolling rocks pelting down at them from above, an increasing slide of gravel and rocks coming down from the narrow peaks above. Alberax is confused, until he realizes too late that the steady deluge of rocks and debris is growing in size, as large boulders come rapidly tumbling down from the high, sloping peaks above, as an avalanche of stone begins to fall on his confined troops. Suddenly, Alberax sights a great red blur rapidly approaching from high above, obscured by the light of the sun, as he orders his remaining men to fire what they can, as Molvanar rapidly descends on them, unleashing several powerful gouts of fire on the troops not crushed under rock. A cloud of crossbow bolts and ballista arrows fly through the air, as Molvanar makes several more passes, Alberax's remaining forces in full retreat now, as Dalvaxian troops begin firing arrows down from the mountain tops at his disorganized, routing forces. Realizing his danger, Alberax himself rides off with generals, vowing to return one day. Molvanar relents from his assault, his body now depleted of the combustible chemicals he expels to breathe fire, his membranous wings injured in several places by the heavy siege shot the invaders had successfully managed to fire, as he unsteadily made his way back to Dalvax city, large scaly body pained and tired from the incredible exertion of flying and breathing fire, his stomach grumbling as the exhaustion set in after post-battle adrenaline. His wings injured, Molvanar carefully descended down into an opening in the ceiling of a huge, domed building. It was his royal chamber where he resided and took audience with the locals. The chancellor of trade, Abernathy Yordum, was waiting for him inside with a delegation of nobles to praise his triumphant battle performance. As the dragon nestled down, a crew of scantily clad female attendants approached, cleaning, dressing, and applying balms to the wounds on his large, scaly body, as he regarded the chancellor.
"My lord Molvanar," said Yordum, bowing his head before the great red beast, "We have received word from our scouts that the warlord's mighty army has been shattered and sent running by your brave eminence, I on behalf of the trade league, would like to graciously thank you, o mighty defender of our prestigious city." The dragon looked up, gazing down at the old man, then turned to look over the assembled nobility, nodding his approval of their formalized graciousness. Yordum continued "It may please your magnificence to learn, the lords of the Zarvash jungle have sent us a large tribute of rare spices, as well as many slaves. They specifically ear-marked a group of the jungle's famous amazon women for you, they were selected for their beauty and relentlessly broken and trained to be submissive. I thought you might want to enjoy the company of several of them." the chancellor finished, as he ushered in twenty or so exotic beauties from the Zarvash jungle. Molvanar excitedly looked them over, noticing their distinctive features,