The interior of the Crimson Flame Spirit Wyrm's lair was a place of primal heat and breathtaking, terrible beauty. The air, thick with the scent of ozone and ancient stone, was surprisingly breathable, circulated by unseen geothermal vents.
The cave was vast, a volcanic cathedral. Its walls weren't just rock; they were embedded with veins of raw, unprocessed fire gems and obsidian, which pulsed with a soft, internal crimson light, bathing the entire chamber in a hellish, yet mesmerizing, glow.
At the very back of the cavern lay the Wyrm's hoard. Not just gold and jewels, though there were mountains of those, glinting greedily in the pulsating light, but also rare, heat-resistant ores, petrified dragon eggs from forgotten epochs, and several ancient, powerful-looking artifacts half-buried in the treasure.
