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He makes the rounds as usual. Wandering through the dark catacombs with a wet satchel at his side, reaching inside once every few paces to yank out a slab of oozing meat. He holds the uncooked steak in his hands, checking it for imperfections before tossing it ahead, into the blackness. A set of massive jaws catches the flesh with a roar. Seconds later, more scaly heads rush up from the darkness to meet it, snapping wildly at the one lucky enough to grab the food.
“Hush,” he speaks, searching for another piece in his sack, “hush now… you know I always bring enough for everyone…”
A hiss, angry and demanding, answers him. The sound of metal dragging along stone echoes through the cavern as one of the beasts, small compared to the others, crawls forwards, sniffing at the visitor. Drool splatters quietly on the filthy ground as it noses its way into the bag, and the man hums in disappointment as he knocks lightly on the top of the beast’s head.
“Madina, I thought I had raised you with better manners than this…” He mumbles, tugging on the dragon’s horns in an attempt to separate it from the rest of the food. “Your stomach will be upset if you eat it all, and then I will be the one who has to deal with the aftermath.”
The beast clicks back in response, its animalistic tones muffled by burlap. He finally manages to separate himself from the creature, but it skitters away with far too much food in its mouth. He calls after it as it disappears into the blackness with a plea of “share with the others!”, but no response is heard outside of ambient hissing and the dragging of heavy chains.
It’s a foul place, he thinks as he begins to walk back to the staircase leading to the surface. The prison beneath the Dragon’s Table; known to so few, yet containing so much suffering. How many years has he been guarding this place? A thousand? More? He has grown old, that much is for sure, and in truth, he’s not sure how much more of this he can take. The man’s joints creak as he begins his trek upwards, and the sound attracts the gaze of the imprisoned; their glowing red eyes swiveling towards him in the darkness. A fearsome sight for anyone else to witness.
But for Medeus, it is as familiar as coming home.