Aeizith had come across two dead horsemen, their bodies torn to bloody shreds. This place was about as lawless an environment as he's seen... More insane than Eyssrn, less laws than La'maari. As the dragon was picking through the belongings of one of the recently slain men, the dragon came across many wonderful treasures... treasures that would do well to help him fortify his hoard once again... He may have been a meek and humble dragon, a sweet little thing that wouldn't attack unless done unto him, but he still had an innate dragon's erg to build up a stockpile of stuff... He found bags of gold of various amounts, a nice short-sword that glowed a ghastly green... he'd hand it over his fire-place... He found a nice pair of blue leather gloves so elaborate and covered with gems, it made the dragon's sanguine eyes sparkle as the gems did in the mid-morning sun... He let out a soft sigh of contentment as he slipped all three things into his coat pockets, sifting through the dead-man's one last time to make sure he hadn't missed anything... and indeed he had...
There, in his hands, rested a very dirty and long unsuspecting key, but one that practically danced with magical power... In fact, it didn't just feel powerful, but it felt alive... it's as if he could feel a piece of consciousness in between his fingers, writhing and twisting for any chance at escape from it's confinement within the brass. Aeizith stared into it's metal, intrigued, definitely taking an interest in the unusual nature of this item. Perhaps it opened a certain door or locked one up because it had no head he'd ever seen before... It certainly was no pedestrian key, if the infusion of consciousness wasn't evidence enough. Staring at it a moment longer, the dragon stuffed it too into his jacket before leaning down to the dead man's neck and sinking his teeth into his flesh, drinking in his life juices with a hungry relish. He hated doing this.... but he had no choice... he was hungry...
However... not long after he began feeding... a dark presence began to loom behind him as multiple creatures formed from the dark. Slowly, Aeizith rose from the blood-soaked neck he was feeding from, ice suddenly shooting out across the ground the imps-from-the-abyss stood upon, their tentacles whipping about wildly, aggressively, as if the dragon had stolen something of theirs. The dragon didn't care and those beasts couldn't have picked a worse time to interact with him... with this new blood flowing through his veins, the dragon had entered something of a blood-rage, an adrenaline rush of sorts that made him stronger faster, but fuzzed up his mind to the point he embodied the beast he was.... Without even a gesture spikes rose from the ice, impaling the plate-faced demons through the chest, arms head in nearly an instant, black mist radiating out where blood should, but these beasts were far tougher than mortal flesh. Mere impalement wouldn't kill. The monsters clawed at the spikes that impaled them, ripping at the ice in an effort to tear themselves free, but the ice only widened in width, stretched and as such, their bodies stretched as well, ripping apart at the seams until one by one, they fell to the ground in pieces of two, torn in half by the dragon-vampire without him even raising a hand. As the dragon approached one of the beasts to feed of it, their bodies faded into nothingness before him, leaving the feral vampire alone, confused... and very hungry.