Session Nineteen, Part Two: The Dragon-God
"It was the dragon, all right," Geirstein spat. "Killed Illugi, Fatima, and a bunch of the villagers when we tried to drive it off." He shifted the stump of his leg, winced in pain.
"Are you
sure it was a dragon?" asked Dru.
"Half as big as one of these houses, bat wings, breathed poison gas upon us, yeah, I'd say it was a dragon," the maimed warrior snapped.
"I wonder why it's serving those people. The raiders," Dru mused.
"Maybe they're serving it?" Di'Fier ran the stone along the edge of his blade. He had a feeling that it would need to be as sharp as possible if they were going to fight this beast.
"Or, indeed, if there is any connection at all," Benares sighed. "Still, whether it is or not, I do not believe we have the power to drive off a dragon of that size, let alone defeat it."
"It may not be as bad as you fear," said Shesara cryptically. Before anyone could ask what she meant, she turned to Geirstein. "Did the dragon use magic, or speak?"
The mercenary thought for a moment. "No. No, it didn't. It just roared."
The bard nodded. "And did you have any trouble standing your ground?"
A short, bitter laugh. "I about p-ss-ed myself. So did everyone else. Whenever something that size comes at you, you're going to have trouble standing your ground."
"But did you break and flee?" The blonde elf leaned forward.
"No. No, the villagers were going to fight." Geirstein's face twisted in pain as he shifted his weight and bumped the remains of his leg. "Hell, they had to, it was their homes."
Shesara sat back. "That would not have mattered if it was a true dragon," she said. Looking to the others, she explained: "The
gorsgiathatch, or dragon-fear. It is said that when elves marched against the dragon Guleistrin, even hardened veteran warriors broke and fled when he took wing above them. The lack of that fear, combined with its apparent lack of intelligence, makes me wonder if we face something else, instead."
"So, if it's not a dragon, what is it, then?" Dru poked violently at the fire, even though it was hardly necessary.
"Make no mistake, it may well have draconic blood," Shesara replied. "In fact, I would be surprised if it did not. I suspect it is much the same as your enemy Ulric, a half-dragon. It could have been sired on one of the giant lizards we've seen here. Dragons are known for their ability to breed with almost anything..."
Kind of like humans, Dru reflected.
"Well, half-dragon or whole, we're going to need a plan," said Di'Fier. "If we cover one of the tar pits..."
"I see it! It's coming!" piped Jim's excited voice from the top of the wall. "It's
huge!"
"I still don't like this," Dru grumbled, as Di'Fier began to cast his spells. She looked at Shesara. "What are you going to do if it decides to eat you, rather than listen to you?"
The bard's form flared briefly with a green aura as the spell that would protect her from the creature's breath settled over her. She smiled impishly at the other elf. "I suppose you'll have to save me, then. Hand me your sword."
Dru gave up the blade slowly, and watched as her friend sang a soft melody above it. The edge gleamed as she took it back, even in the shadows under the hut.
"Time to go invisible, Dru," Di'Fier told her. "But keep back as far as you can, until you're ready to strike. Dragons are supposed to have an excellent sense of smell."
Dru nodded, and faded from sight. "I hope this works," her disembodied voice said, and Di'Fier could tell that she was pacing. "You're using up a lot of your spells to protect us. What if we can't hurt it enough?"
The wizard looked over from where he was placing the same protection on Benares. "Then, ah, we run. And hope the towers on the wall will be strong enough to keep it out until it gets bored." With a last repetition of the incantation, he warded himself from the corrosive breath of the creature, and took up his sword. "But if we can just get it stuck in the tar, we won't have to worry..."
Outside, Shesara began to sing.
Dull thoughts lurched through a sluggish reptilian brain.
Food. There had been lots of food in this place, all gathered for it by the two-legs. Where were the two-legs now? They were not gathering food. That was not right. They will be food, as they were before.
The low-slung body arced clumsily through the air, and the long jaws gaped, then snapped shut. It didn't like being up here - far better to hide beneath the water and eat the food - but something in the back of its brain made it want to soar.
More no-food! All the two-legs were gone from the two-legs lair. This made it angry. Its powerful tail twitched through the sky, itched to smash the fragile lairs. No, there was a two-legs. It did not run. That was good.
What was it doing? What were those noises? Perhaps it would listen for a while before eating the two-legs, listen to the music. Yes.
"It's landing!" cried the halfling.
"Get under cover, Jim!" Di'Fier snapped. "Your job is done! Now
hide!"
"But it's landing on the
wrong side!"
Shesara's song faltered for an instant as the massive reptile settled to the ground next to her, its stubby legs pulling it through the dirt. Then she seemed to recover, and sang all the louder.
Dru cursed. "It must have smelled the tar."
"What are we going to do?"
"Shesara can't sing forever." Di'Fier heard the sound of a blade whispering from its sheath, and Dru's invisible voice began to recede. "I guess we're going to have to slay a dragon."