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[Goonalan]

Thanks for the feedback, I'll keep writing.

Mahtave, as to the TPK they had a way to go, mainly because Newt and Anya generally don't "do" melee. I think the pair had a few wounds from the Rat Swarms but nothing that would prevent them from legging it should the fight go really badly. As for the others, Cas was on 0, Ala stabilised at something like -5, Bec on 2 or 3, and Jim on about 5. It was getting real close, hence the trips to the fridge, my players can consume twice their body-weight when they're in dire straits, someone ought to do a study on it one day.

Thanks again.

And so on we go...

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters

Turn 34: Like a Dragon.

And ten minutes later, via another dark tunnel, the Goodman Gang emerge into yet another cavern, which appears to be… empty.

The floor is dusty, covered with fine rock debris, the west wall glints, more mineral deposits, slick with water and moisture, crystal formations wink and shine in the half-light.

“There’s nothing here, nice walls.” Newt comments.

They head across to the only other exit.

WHOOF

And are suddenly engulfed in flame.

They scatter, Cas and Anya run for the exit, Ala dodges back, Jim and Bec swish and slice… at what? Newt pats the flames on him out. And then a voice, as clear as a bell stops them in there tracks.

“Little dwarves cower before me or again feel my flamey breath, damn that doesn’t work... I mean, feel my flamey breath… again, whatever, you get the gist of it.”

They adventurers look about- who’s talking.

Then they figure it, except for Bec who continues looking, the voice is in their heads.

They’re all burnt a little.

“Where are you?” Cas enquires, aloud.
“What are you?” Ala worries.
“What do you want?” Anya cuts to the chase.

The voice comes again; Bec continues to look confused, searching high and low for the speaker.

“Leave tribute and I will allow you to pass on, one item from each of you. That’s better, that sounded good… fierce… Ohh, forgot to stop talking there, ignore that last bit- hand over the goodies, or else.”

The adventurers grow spikes.

“Missile weapons everyone.” Cas says.

Nothing happens for a while.

Then a while more.

“Leave tribute…”, the voice begins again.

“Run.” Cas suggests, it catches on, the adventurers scarper for the far tunnel.

WHOOOOSH

Another gout of flame, but too late, the Goodman Gang are on there way, and to the far tunnel.

“Now turn and fire.” Cas orders.

Ala spins, bow in hand, arrow notched, ready to fly. Scans the area, her incredible Elven vision spots something, a small something.

“There.” And to make her point she fires, alas her arrow sails wide of the mark, not that any of the others can see the mark.

“What was it?” Jim shouts.
“Like a tiny Dragon.” Ala calls back.

Newt creeps forward, back into the chamber.

WHOOOOSH

He and Ala are once again caught in the flame, although only a little charred this time, the pair dodge back in time to avoid the spells affect.

A tiny Dragon-like creature hovers before them for a second, it has rainbow patterned wings, it’s beautiful, and then it blinks back out of existence.

“Run.” Cas is even more definite, they scarper.

“What do you mean LIKE a Dragon?” Jim wonders as he pelts forward.

There’s a fluttering noise coming from behind them, and it’s moving much faster than they are, the noise of fluttering wings is getting louder, catching them.

WHOOSH

The tunnel is yet again engulfed in flame.

“RIGHT…”

Jim spins and fires, instinctively sighting the now clearly visible Pseudo-Dragon, Blackspine; his arrow sails just wide.

Newt crouches and hurriedly coats a bolt in poison.

Anya points her wand.

“FLAME ON.”

The tiny Dragon is surrounded by flame, and yet there seems to be a void-space, a flame-free pocket, encompassing the creature, the flame dies down and it emerges completely unscathed.

“Magic Resistant, damn.” Anya offers.

“HE-HE.”

The creature’s laughter fills their heads.

“CHAAAARGE.”

Cas hurtles off towards the creature, back the way they came, swishing wildly as he runs, it’s like being menaced by a blender, his blade whirls and slashes all before him.

Bec shrugs, “Sandwich”, grins and follows suit, the others replicate the action.

“Oooo Bugger.”

The voice in their head comes again.

The fluttering wings retreat at speed.

The adventurers emerge back in the like-a-Dragon’s chamber.

“Leave tribute or else more fire.”

The voice is definite.

“What do you want? Who are you?” Cas calls back.

“I am Blackspine, sire of er… Bagpuss the er… Flamey, no, Fiery. I am a mighty Red Dragon sent, no not sent… er… I have decided, of my own accord, to guard this place, to rain down fiery… er… rain, on those that wish to pass. I can be dissuaded only by grand offerings, as befitting my mighty station.”

And then a little later.

“That last bit was quite good wasn’t it?”

The voice inside their heads fades.

“We will leave nothing.”

Jim draws himself up to his full height, strides forward.

“You’re not even a real dragon, pah… Red Dragon, my arse, you’re only like-a-Dragon, Anya says so.”

Jim finishes.

“WHY YOU…”

The voice in their heads is on volume 11.

“Jim, actually I think it is a Dragon.” Anya whispers.
“What?”
“I said I think it is a Dragon.”
“But you said…”

“YOU ABSOLUTE BUGGERS.”

Volume 11 again.

There’s a mad flutter of tiny wings, whatever it is that’s like-a-Dragon is making a bee-line straight for Jim.

SWOOOP

Blackspine swoops.

SAIL

Blackspine sails.

GLIDE

Blackspine glides.

Claws out ready to mess up the impertinent Human’s features, only no one can see it, it’s invisible.

But Newt can hear it.

“DUCK.” The Gnome screams at Jim.
“Where?” The Ranger turns to look back at Newt, slightly confused.

The movement is enough to make Blackspine miss his target, Jim’s face remember, the little dragon flaps heartily trying to arrest it’s dive- climbs a little.

SPLAT

And thumps into the cavern wall above Jim’s head.

“ME HEAD.” The voice is in their minds again.

A ten inch long Pseudo Dragon become visible, on the floor, stunned, only inches away from Jim’s right boot.

Cas slices, rips through a wing, Bec stabs and skewers the creature.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.”

The feedback squeal finds 12 on the volume dial.

“Please don’t hurt me. Please. I’m a prisoner, that’s it a prisoner, keep going- make it believable, I’ll tell you all I know. That’s got them- suck…”

Cas strides forward, hands up- peaceful, gets to the “O”, of, “OK”, when Bec nudges him aside and swings again.

BLINK

Followed by.

FLUTTER

The Pseudo Dragon disappears and makes a flap for dear life.

FWANG

Newt’s poisoned bolt plunges off into the darkness.

“I said…” Cas starts but Bec just pushes the Paladin out the way and strides past him.

“Tresh-ure.” The mini-hulk points up at a previously unseen ledge, it seems to have a crude nest atop it.

“Bec we can’t hang around, I know you’re pissed off, we’re all battered and bruised…” Ala plays peace maker.

“TRESH-URRRR.”

Bec growls, flecks of spittle spraying from his mouth.

“OK big guy.”

Newt wanders over, as Bec continues to seethe, gets to just below the nest and flings a grappling hook up, it catches first time.

“Tresh-Urrrrrrrrrr.”

Bec calms down a little.

The others give him a wide berth.

“Keep a look out, missile weapons people.” Cas gets back to business, although he glances back at Bec every now and then.

Back on the ground Ala expends more of her healing, the Healing Kits are spent, as are most of her spells.

The cavern is lit up like a Christmas tree, there are over half-a-dozen sunrods flaring, the shadows are all but gone.

A couple of minutes later Newt is back, loaded with goodies. They head back into the tunnel, post a guard while Anya casts Detect Magic, there are plenty of coins, some gems and jewellery, and a pair of magical bracers, and a potion, swiftly identified as Healing, Ala takes it, the rest is for distribution later.

Newt has pocketed a ring, for his troubles, for once though his eye is out, it’s the least valuable piece in the hoard.

They head off again.

“You OK?” Jim asks.
“San-wich.” Bec, half-heartedly, states.

The trek continues in silence, but not for long.

A little more than five minutes later the Gang emerge into another chamber, a little more cautious this time.

It’s huge, and there are no visible exits, at the northern end is a great black altar, a large black tome rests upon it, either side twisting pewter candelabras holding the lit stubs of fat black candles.

Hanging on the wall behind the altar are five human skeletons, arms manacled over their heads, each wears a rusty chain shirt and carries a longsword at its side.

“Whatchamacallit… Saaaaandwiiiiiiich.”

Bec charges.

Although none of the skeletons are animate.

SMASH

He shatters the first.

“BEKKKKKKKKKKKK.” Cas orders.

As the other Skeletons jump to their feet, wriggle from their bonds, and begin to unsheathe their swords.

“Oh Correllon hear my words, banish these foul…”

Ala intones, the four Skeletons are surrounded in a green haze, and in the blink of an eye-

CRACK

Are pulverised in an instant, reduced to piles of shattered bone.

Leaving Bec huffing and blowing, searching desperately for something else to destroy.

Newt is quickly at the altar, Anya in tow; she grabs the book, opens it, begins to read, shrugs once, then closes it again.

“That’s that then.”
“What’s that?” Cas asks.
“It’s Malchor’s diary, your landlord.”
“How do you know?” Cas struts over.
“It’s got his name on the inside of the cover, and… hang on.”

She flops the tome open, skips a few pages and reads.

“I Malchor, supplicant of Crypticus, do hereby swear to rid myself of the sainted, and unbelievably stupid, Lady Arabella, who has usurped my rightful place. I have made my pact and with my Dark Lord in order to rid myself, once-and-for-all, of this pesky child that taunts me daily with her inane blathering, I… Oh nearly forget, get eggs, pay the milkman- does he do yogurt?”

Anya closes the book.

“Satisfied?”

“I’ve found something.” Newt breaks the ice.

And indeed he has, the secret compartment in the altar swings open inside there are some coins- platinum, Newt whistles, two potions, quickly identified as Healing, and a beautifully crafted, and jewelled, Dagger- a silver-blue colour.

“Can I have this?” Newt asks, “please…”, politely.
“Yes.” Cas is on auto-pilot, it was the politely bit that threw him.
The others shrug, or nod, their agreement.

The potions are taken by Cas and Ala.

“I can’t believe that’s it…” Jim states.

As the secret door opens and into the room steps a well armed, and armoured Goblin, he looks all business and has a bow in his hands and an arrow notched.

Behind him an Elf, no what do you call them dark coloured Elves… Drow- that’s it. The Drow, male, looks to be a Wizard.

And in the same instant a Wolf suddenly appears, in the midst of the Goodman Gang.

Actually, ‘a Wolf’, doesn’t quite cover it.

The creature is five feet tall at the shoulder; its fur is as black as night, its eyes gleam, a similar light to the fires of hell.

Oh, and it has horns, nasty looking ones- are there any other kind?

FWONG

Jim grows an arrow, from the middle of his chest; he staggers backwards, flailing madly and finally… falls.

Next Turn: This is the End, My Friend.