A chamber was prepared for him at the sanctuary, and he lay that night on the large cushions of the bed with his mate Kharendaen at his side. He found it difficult to sleep, however. He felt huge and awkward in his new body, although his greatest discomfort was more subtle. He felt as if all the life he had ever known had been stripped away—his home and friends, his pride in his duty as the Dragonlord, even his familiar body had been lost. He knew his destiny was not complete but only just beginning, yet he hardly felt prepared for whatever lay before him.
It seemed to him now that everything that had happened before had been easy compared to this. He had always been secure in his invincible armor, commanding the most powerful enchantments of ancient Blackmoor. Everyone had to respect him, since he could neither be fought nor ignored. Being the Dragonking would be far more challenging. He couldn't count upon being the largest, fastest, or most powerful dragon. His strength would have to come from within himself, and the respect he commanded from others would have to be earned by his wisdom and authority. By spring, he would have to learn not only how to walk and to fly and to fight like a dragon, but also he had to learn how to be a king.
His last thought, before he finally slept, was to reflect with wry amusement about how the first Dragonlord would have felt if he had known the true identity of the heir to his title.
D& D - Mystara 02 Dragonking of Mystara Page 42
