His eyes snapped open.
Glowing redder than the coals of the under-world, Draco's eyes focused on the skies above him. He was silent for a moment as his mind wandered, figuring out where and who he was. He slowly sat up, his human form stiff from laying on the stone ground for who knows how long. He blinked. Raising his hands he stared at them, he narrowed his eyes again - Human hands? That wasn't right, he was a Dragon. A Shadow Dragon, the Shadow Dragon. Why was he human?
He reached out with his magic, and briefly around him, a beam of black energy shot into the sky about fifty feet. His memories came flooding back to him and he rose to his feet, the heavy boots crunching in the small rocks beneath them as he gathered his magic back into his body. He'd been cursed to this form. A Mage or Dark Mage of some sort, with enough power to curse a Dragon as old and powerful as he was. He let out a snarl, feral and reptilian as the power in the air dissipated visibly, but otherwise was felt heavy in the air. His clothing took its place on his body, a slimy, black sludge covering him and molding to the correct shape, hardening into dark-blessed fabrics of Obsidian and Crimson, the military uniform that was used by him for generations was back on his body, and under it, his Draconian Battle Armor, just in case. He reached up and slicked back his midnight black hair, and then opened his eyes again. He could smell a town not too far away, for him, anyway. A days journey at most.
That would be where he would start both his search for his power, and ultimately, his conquest of this land.
