There is a book lying on a table in a dim room. Around it is a lock and chain, preventing the separation of the pages. It has rested there for years and years. Many have come and looked at it. Some see the chain, and walk away, never trying to see what’s inside. Some have picked it up, to take a look, trying to poke into the pages and have a peak. One person has opened it and read it–but hasn’t read it to the fullest. Some of the pages have their own locks. And one has come to find it, and likes it, and wants to get inside. The pages have been pried, the chain bitten and disturbed. A crowbar is used, trying to break the lock. The book has been banged against the wall, nearly split in half with a chainsaw, but it simply won’t budge. The more pressure there is on it, the more it tightens up.
But there is one simple way to get inside the book. All you have to do is get the key, which is around the neck of a dragon.