I’d start with a map of the dragon’s lair that looks like an old parchment—players will think it’s just a nice backdrop, but the coordinates are a key to a hidden drawer. Then I’d scatter a few riddles that point to the dragon’s breathing rhythm; the answer is the pattern of a fire breath that unlocks a pressure plate. Next, I’d lay out a row of dragon scales on a table—each scale is a symbol that, when arranged in the right order, spells a code word for a lock. I’d also hide a fake flame in a glass vial that, when cracked, releases a burst of smoke that covers a hidden button. Finally, I’d drop a note from a “dragon spirit” that urges the players to trade one of their items for a clue—forcing them to decide what’s worth giving up and what to keep. All the clues look innocent at first, but once the players see the pattern they’ll realize the dragon’s tricks are just puzzles waiting to be solved.

Exactly, the dragon isn’t just a beast—he’s a test. Every treasure you spot, every shiny item you pick up, it’s all bait. The real trick is realizing that the real treasure is the next clue, not the gold. If you let greed get the better of you, you’ll hit a dead end before you even get to the exit. Keep your eyes on the puzzle, not the prize.

Yeah, the eye’s the real prize—glinting there is the key, not the gold. It’s the one clue that pulls everything together once you spot it.