Even from the swamp outside, the smell of acrid chlorine - the calling card of a black dragon - can lightly be sensed in the wind. The lair of Slothus... a place even the stoutest of heart would normally ever wish to go. The entrance to the cave decorated with a macabre display: the bones of various victims, stuck to the walls and ceiling... covering the walls for miles down... a testament to Slothus' power. The half-melted skeletons of humanoids, animals, and even rival dragons hang... skulls twisted in faces of agony. Deeper, the cave evens out... the floor becomes flat, the walls become straight - and the natural cave setting gives way to a dragon-sized mansion. An obscene show of wealth, power, and pride - it is every thieves' dream and nightmare... the riches of centuries... yet, guardians who will last longer. Deeper in the mansion, upon a bed of fluffy, embroidered pillows... lay Slothus. Overweight from years of inaction and overeating - a terrifying prospect for a dragon to have such power as to allow him this luxury. Servants of a variety of races scramble to give him what he wants, and the kitchens constantly smelled of whatever they were cooking at the time - and they were cooking all the time. Elsewhere in the mansion, in a section designed for 'medium'-sized creatures... were the quarters of Slothus' favored project... an actual adventuring team... allied to the forces of evil. It was a delightfully wonderful thing... the grand black dragon took care to make this part of his mansion very comfortable... even ridding it of the chlorine smell, and a private kitchen. Their tutors had worked them hard, and their powers were growing as far as they'd be able to without actual fighting experience... soon... soon, it would be time. He already had the plans ready... in fact... the time shall be... Today.