The mouth of the cave was fairly well lit by the light from outside. As they ventured deeper into the shadows, the natural light was at first supplemented, and then eventually replaced, by magical torches mounted on the walls. The ambient brightness allowed Dover to easily observe the surroundings. The path was well maintained, clear of any obstructions. Based on the lack of dust or debris it was likely swept regularly. There were no signs of danger or traps, there weren't even any tripping hazards on the smooth floor. After following the path a few minutes it turned a corner and Dover found himself in front of a simple wooden door set into the wall.
Strangely enough there was also a sturdy chest of drawers and a small changing nook to the side. Seeing his glance, Driks explained “While you don’t seem particularly disturbed by my lack of attire, many of my guests would prefer me to be clothed in public. As you discovered, I’m not particularly skilled at dodging flying objects, and that’s true even in this form. One can only get hit in the face with a shoe so many times before feeling the need to adjust their behavior.”
Dover couldn’t help but nod at the logical explanation. Before he could question why he would be nude to begin with, Driks continued. “Changing forms doesn’t include clothing and the rest of my home is human sized.” With that he began searching through the chest for some clothes.
While Driks rummaged, Dover considered what type of magician he could be. He'd demonstrated two distinct skills, summoning and shapeshifting. Summoning was typically associated with warlocks. Through demonic pacts and rituals they could summon minions to do their bidding. Shapeshifting, on the other hand, typically fell into the realm of druids. To better commune with nature they often gained the ability to take animal form. Dover's best guess was that Driks was in fact a wizard, a scholar who specializes in crafting their own spells.
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As Drik’s headed into the changing nook, and pulled the privacy curtain closed, Dover asked “Why become a dragon?”
With a slight laugh Driks answered. “You have that backwards, I shift into a human. It's a lot easier to interact with my guests that way, fewer arrows to the throat... Which really hurts you know! Did you even consider that I might be willing to talk?”
This revelation, that Driks had just casually admitted, went against everything Dover had learned about dragons as he pursued the missing girls. Driks, at least, was much more than an intelligent beast.
Dover couldn’t help but laugh as a thought occurred to him, “Are you saying a dragon, a mythical monster, is more civilized than me?” All the tension from tracking the dragon, preparing for a deadly fight, and expecting the worst, fled from his body as he continued to laugh.
When he regained his composure, he turned to the now fully dressed Driks, and said “Sorry. Name’s Dover. Nice to meet ya, Lord Driks.” Wiping his dusty hand off, he offered it in a proper greeting.
Despite the obvious finery of his clothing, Driks paid no heed to the dirt and grime, taking his hand in a firm grip. Stumbling over the words a bit, considering they had been fighting minutes ago, he politely replied “The... Pleasure... Is mine.”
Driks paused and carefully looked at Dover. “Once I ease your concerns about my guests, I have many questions for you.” On releasing his hand and fixing his posture, he corrected one minor mistake of Dover’s. “Simply call me Driks. If you must use a title the correct one would be Lord d’Oxzen”
That was a name even a wildling such as Dover would recognize, along with the Church, he controlled the province.