Okay. Writers suddenly get a serious idea.
You're a knight on a quest to free the maiden and to kill the dragon. You're not one of those fighty knights, though, you're actually one of those diggy knights with picks and beards. Under the cover of night you sneak up to the tower, strum a couple of chords on your lute and sing the name of your lady softly but audibly. Scarcely a couple of minutes passes and the face of an angel peeks at you from the window at the top of the tower.
"My lord, have you come to rescue me?" she cries.
"Yes, my lady," you say, but before necessary courtesies, boasts, and oaths take final form in your mind, there is a hideous roar somewhere in the sky.
"My lord, I pray for your success and for the beast's downfall in this battle," your lady says, and you cannot help noticing a certain bloodthirsty glee on her distant face.
As a huge shadow clouds the moon, you turn to face it. You can't suppress an expression of utter horror and a whimper. You cover your head as the monster makes a showy swoop, its claws passing just a few feet from your face and the wind from its wings almost driving you off your feet. Almost... You quickly recover your wits and, without another glance at the tower, dart away in a zigzagging line.
You come to your senses only at the camp where your companions intercept and hold you in place for a good minute while you keep stomping your feet trying to run away. Your embarrassment is limitless, but your party doesn't press the matter, except for a few derisive snorts. They bring you a bucket of water and you quench your thirst, trying to gather your thoughts.
"So, what's the plan?" inquires your right hand, Oster, uneasily.
Taking a deep breath after the effort of drinking, you blurt out, "We're going under!"
***
Or something like that. The idea is to dig your way to the tower of the princess because the dragon rages above the ground. Off the top of my head, so I'm going to explore other directions.