WP: You're a powerful dragon...

[WP] You're a powerful dragon that lived next to a small kingdom. For centuries you ignored humanity and lived alone in a cave, and the humans also avoided you. As the kingdom fell to invaders, a dying soldier approaches you with the infant princess, begging you to take care of her.

What did I know about raising a baby?
 
Fuck all, that’s what.  I hadn’t even laid a clutch of my own yet.  Not in this neighborhood.
 
I couldn’t blame Geoff.  Not really.  The town guardsman had stumbled to the mouth of my cave, riddled with centaur arrows, explained the situation, and promptly died on my doorstep.  I paused, mid-stride, the implication of that thought hanging in the forefront of my brain.  Son of a cerberus, I’d have to get rid of the body before it started to smell.  First the sewage infrastructure, even though he knew full-well that I lived in this swamp, and now this?  Inconsiderate to the end, that Geoff.
 
I shook it off.  One thing at a time.  Refocusing on my task and tucking my wings a little tighter against my back, I stepped down the cavernous corridor and came to the chamber I had been searching for: my hoard.
 
I picked through the mountain of silver, gold, platinum knickknacks until I found my prize somewhere towards the back.  Gingerly gripping the tiny golden rod between two claws, I blearily shambled back towards the entrance where Geoff had ruined my early-spring hibernation.  The little golden scepter was practically falling apart, but that suited my purposes just fine.  The symbol of ultimate kingly power, encrusted with blood-red rubies, made a tinny rattling noise every time I so much as jostled it.  Perfect.
 
“Here,” I rumbled in draconic, tossing the rod at the feet of this fleshy, wide-eyed monkey.  “Entertain yourself while I figure this out.”
 
It didn’t even look at the golden treasure on the ground in front of it.  It just started to scream.
 
I winced, internally weighing the merits of melting the little creature and being done with its incessant shrieking and constant appetite and other stupid mammalian needs.  Black dragons such as myself weren’t blessed with the ability to belch fire like our crimson and gold comrades, but we could spit a mean gout of acid.  I’d have to make sure the deed was done far enough away from the tapestries so that I wouldn’t...
 
Any thoughts of squashing the little bug came to a screeching halt when I noticed a glint around its neck.  A pendant.  Bearing a crest.  The same crest as that on the scepter.
 
It was in that instant the plan... THE plan... first started to form.