"How fortunate for you and the world."

"Indeed. I'm not certain why it's different."

"The Burning Legion is lead by a rogue Titan, one of the creators of Azeroth and many other worlds. In the absence of such a force to unify the lesser beings, it is not surprising that their efforts would work at cross-purposes."

"This world tried unity once. I think we're still technically in the war that started when it failed, or at least the aftershocks."

"War is something of an inevitability of life. If there is no external enemy, then that energy will be directed to internal struggles."

"Perhaps. I suspect it might also be that humans don't much like each other. They were less quarrelsome when they were farther apart."

"Separation of population groups can help, but does not suffice as a long-term solution."

She nods, resting her head on her paws. "I'm not much concerned with ruling them, though. But if you want to manage the humans, I won't stop you."

"Only insofar as management is required to stop them from disturbing me unduly."

"They'll get used to you eventually, I suspect." She stands, stretches. "If you have no other questions of me, I should perhaps go speak to Isobu, or else return to my mountain."

"A pleasure to have met you, then."

She sketches a bow. "Much the same." And she's off, darting into the woods so fast she blurs.

Everyone in this world moves so quickly. Annoying. Ah well, not everyone lives in dragonhide.

She's left alone for the most part for the next few days, until there's another minor disturbance at the edge of her territory.

...Mmph. This one she's going to leave alone unless the whelplings start a ruckus.

The disturbance creeps closer, until the whelplings do start alarming. There's a thunderous crash, signaling the start of the battle.

The whelplings are more dangerous for their numbers than size, but they are persistent and extremely difficult to shake off. The intruders should be distracted enough for her to get a look before making a move.

There's a group of four, dressed all in black with their faces covered, fighting rather skillfully. They seem to mostly favor martial arts and weapons, with only limited use of fancier techniques - one is able to line her sword with lightning, though, and occasionally send it in arcs, producing the thundering noise. They're trying to retreat, apparently either giving up on their task or deciding to approach differently.

You don't get to attack a dragon's lair while she's home and come out of it with only scratches.

She takes a deep breath and exhales, a stream of fire bathing the entire melee. Her whelplings, of course, will be unaffected by the fire and continue their harassment.

One flinches, blue flaring around him and a light scalding flaring on his exposed skin - no worse than a mild sunburn. The others weather the flames. One, a different woman than the lightning user, raises her hand sharply, gestures, and the attackers fold into a new, more defensive formation.

"Trespassers!" She lauches herself forward to overfly them, breathing flame below her, this time tinged with a flickering blackness at the core.

They scatter, the hotter flames burning the less experienced members, and start putting significantly more effort into retreating. The lightning woman sends an arc of electricity snapping at Ellisaria.

She tucks her wing in and does a half roll to avoid it before landing in the shinobi's line of retreat and scoring a gash across the ground with her claws. Molten earth begins seeping through immediately, and she pulls, sending geysers spattering across the battlefield.

The worse burned of the four is clipped again. The lightning woman jumps high, sticking to the ceiling, and the others similarly get off the ground.

Unfortunately for them, Ellisaria is absolutely willing to collapse part of her lair to punish intruders. Large chunks of the roof start to flake and crash down.