A Tale of Two Dragons

[Rae ArdGaoth]

After Regalclaw makes a few ferry trips back and forth across the black river, the party moves on its way again. What starlight could pierce the thick canopy before is now completely absent. It is nearly pitch black in the forest. About a half hour has passed since the group reached the forest.

The thin trail they follow eventually ends at a large rock formation. A hole in the rocks turns out to be a tunnel to a larger cave. Those more accustomed to wilderness travel can tell that the path they are following has been recently traveled. The cave extends into darkness for a short while, always heading downwards at a steep angle. Suddenly, the cave tunnel ends and opens up into a vast cavern. The walls are lit up like the sun, seeming to be made of a luminous silver. Huge piles of treasure are arranged in neat piles. From their current vantage point, the group can make out a mound of gold, one of silver or platinum, and one made of bladed weapons, among many others.

And in the center of it all, the huge form of a silver dragon rests, not in slumber but watching everybody intently through its piercing reptillian eyes. The majesty of the beast emanates in an aura that seems almost tangible. Despite the obvious power this mighty creature has, each member feels an emphatic connection with it, as though they met it a long time ago and are good friends with it.

After a short moment of tense hesitation, the dragon flashes a toothy grin and winks. A great, loud voice booms forth from its jaw saying, "So, you have finally arrived. Come down here, sit with me, and I will answer all your questions."

 

[WampusCat43]

Shocked, Nick hastens to comply with the dragon's wishes. "Ye gods, what have I gotten myself into this time?" He thought to himself. "Perhaps I should cast my Mage Armor spell? No, that would be of little use, and might anger the beast."

 

[Lefferts]

Zithran looks for a comfortable place to sit and waits for the dragon to explain why they were called.

 

[Harvey]

Penthar Danadin, Aglarondan Griffonrider

Penthar disounts from Regalclaw, and stands beside his mount. He eyes the rest of the party, taking a quick look to make sure the rest are no worse for wear from the trip. He absent-mindedly strokes the griffon's head as he waits to listen to their host.

 

[silentspace]

Seeing the others settling in, Faelar steps forward towards the dragon. "You already know who we are," he says, gesturing towards the group. "And we know that you have summoned each of us from the far corners of Faerun."

"What we don't know is who you are, and why you have summoned us."

 

[Krug]

Brak sits down and waits for the Dragon to speak.

 

[Ferrix]

Hareka paces about for a moment, like a cat choosing the correct spot to rest, before finally settling upon the edge of the mound of silvery coins. "It seems we have similar tastes," he clicks two claws together, "not surprising. What business do you call us here for?"

 

[Rae ArdGaoth]

Once they are all settled in, the dragon addresses everybody:

"As you can see, you have all been called from the farthest corners of Faerun. You already know that your races are diverse. You will soon find that your backgrounds, your skills, and your outlooks are quite varied. But you will also come to realize that you have each been selected specially, for a definite purpose, and that despite your differences, you will come together and function like a well-oiled gnomish invention.

"I am sure you are... interested... in why I have called you so far from your respective homes. I will... 'cut to the chase', as they say. I need each of you to right a terrible wrong and eliminate a great threat to the general well being of our fair continent. Perhaps you have not yet heard of this danger in your own countries, but lest you scorn me for calling you away from your duties," the dragon's head turns pointedly at Brak, "Let me assure you that, given time and lenience, this peril would inevitably reach all of your homelands.

"I am no weak being, as you can tell from my lair, but I tell you, even I cannot stand up against this force alone. The enemy watches me closely, observes my movements like no other, because it knows I am a threat to the achievement of its goals. And were I to make an offensive move against our foe, it would throw everything it had at me and destroy me utterly. As it is, I can defend only this small country I have chosen as my territory without incurring the enemy's wrath. But not you." The dragon grins slyly.

"You, a disgruntled team, uncoordinated, thrown together after being brought from across the continent, made up of short lived mortals, cannot possibly pose a threat to the enemy, can you?" The grin grows wider. "Ah, but I know what the enemy does not. That you are powerful already, and you have the potential to become even greater. You will start as a mere nuisance, but you will grow to become the force that overthrows the enemy's tyranny. It will use whatever power it has left in an attempt to destroy you, and in that critical moment I shall join you and we will conquer our foe!" The dragon lets out a mighty roar that shakes the cavern and causes several piles of treasure to shift their weights.

"Who is this enemy, you ask?" The dragon, calm again, continues. "It is another of my kind, another dragon, though of a different color. Red, the most dangerous and powerful of the chromatic dragons. Melniirkumaukrekon is his name. Yes, a male. And a vicious one, at that." The silver dragon's eyes seem to burn with hatred as it spits a large block of solid ice at a wall. "Vicious indeed, without morals, concerned only with his own gain. Typical of a red. He is a clever one, though, I must give him credit, for he has somehow managed to organize an entire brood of his own kind. They work together and are gaining ground quickly. As it is, they control one country directly and many others from behind the throne. Thay is but one of these puppet nations.

"The country controlled by the red dragon brood is Narfell. It is there that we will start our campaign against the enemy and, I predict, where we will end it. Penthar, and perhaps Faelar, you are both aware of events in the area, and your homelands will have noticed a lack of conflict from the usually tense region of Narfell. One of the reds has apparently disguised itself as a powerful Nars warrior and united most of the tribes together under one banner. The hobgoblins in the mountains have also joined this new Nars league. Whether this dragon be the terrible Melniirkumaukrekon, I know not. And this is just the beginning, my friends. Penthar and Faelar would have felt it first, but the rest of your lives would no longer be the same. The red dragon empire is growing, and with alarming speed.

"Here is what I need you to accomplish first. The league in Narfell is powerful but unstable. If you can somehow manage to discredit the disguised red that is leading the tribes, they will be hesitant to join again in the near future. Or perhaps the hobgoblin hordes can be turned against themselves and the league. Goblin-kin has never been particularly good at keeping alliances for long. This first quest should be relatively easy since the dragons are not expecting any resistance from any force but myself and have let their guard down. While it is surprising that the league exists, it is not unprecedented, and fortunately, the bonds of such 'fellowship' are fragile. You must break these bonds first, and then we can move on to the nations controlled in more discreet manners.

"Have you any questions?"

 

[Krug]

"Come together like a gnomish invention? Pardon me saying this, but most gnomish inventions I know blow apart after a while. Is that expected of us as well?" says Brak.

After hearing the Dragon's please, Brak is somewhat interested. "Challenging a red dragon uh? Ancestral enemies of the dwarves they were. My uncle Skromp had his head bitten off by one of 'em. I am certainly interested in this quest, though I would like to do more than break the fellowship," muses Brak.

 

[Ferrix]

Hareka nearly chokes on his icy breath at the mention of functioning like a well-oiled gnomish invention, "well-oiled, as in ready to burst into flames I presume," he says with a smugness that belies a bit of fear. Pausing for the rest of the story, the inconsiderate click of a nail once in a while syncopates the dragon's pace.

"A great red..." he says with a hiss, his tongue snapping, "it'd be my pleasure." Melniirkumaukrekon, Mel...