The arrow whistles from your bowstring, a slender shaft of enchanted yew fletched with iridescent scales, its ironwood tip gleaming like fractured obsidian. It streaks through the air in a blur of crimson runes, trailing sparks that sizzle against the wind. Piercing the dragon's armored hide, it erupts in a fountain of molten scales and seething ichor, the beast's roar shattering into a gurgling wheeze as veins of fire spiderweb across its thrashing form.