the message in the bottle is the booze

Imagine that you're this guy:



This is your life:

"This potion master has been trying to teach shadow magic for five years... but the congregation keeps passing him over for less-experienced Serthis."

You're tired and frustrated. You just want someone to recognize your skills - but no matter what you do, no one wants you. When they passed you up for Bob, that asshole who wouldn't know shadow magic from his own shadow, you decided it was time to take some time for yourself. A small vacation, maybe.

So you slithered off to the Sandswept Delta. A couple of your buddies came along; you know your complaining annoys them after a while, but they're good friends and listen anyway. While you're relaxing with your tail in the water, telling them about how awful Bob is, some dragons show up. Goddammit.



You don't really have the choice of whether or not to fight them. Fighting is what you do. It's always been this way and no one knows why. This time, you're defeated, and one of the dragons takes you home as a prize. You're "wary" - but over time the dragon bonds with you. You even begin to lend the dragon your expertise. It's kind of nice to finally be appreciated.



But then one day your dragon goes out and comes back with another Serthis Potionmaster. A dragon can't have more than one familiar, and a dragon clan can't have more than one familiar of the same type. And what's more, the dragon finds it more rewarding to bond with you than to be bonded. She's in love with falling in love, not so much with maintaining that love. She no longer needs you.

She could sell you. Dragons love gold and gems and there is a thriving trade in sentient creatures. You tried not to think about it too much - but now the threat is very real.

But yours will be an even worse fate. She's an alchemist - she knows how to transmute matter into other forms. Sure, sometimes you cringed when she threw live fawns into her bubbling cauldron, but your friend Craig was also an alchemist, and you're kind of used to the panicked squeals. You never thought it would be you. But now it's you.

She picks you up. You see the cauldron. It pulses with malevolent green energy.



You scream.

You become muck.