Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)
- Thread starter Lazybones
- Start date
Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks for the kind posts, all. It will be tough writing a dialect like Hodge's in a way that's convincing and not overly jarring to the reader, but I've had two dwarves thus far that were very atypical (Lok and Arun) and I wanted to delve a bit into the more basic stereotypes of the race. Not that Hodge will be a shallow character; I haven't decided where he'll end up in the story (and he may yet fall prey to my vicious anti-NPC tendencies), but I do have a few ideas for him. And I needed a love interest for Mole (okay, just kidding, sheesh, put the crossbow down, girl 
).
Besides, there's plenty of priests of Helm left to kill off.
BTW, I just got the latest issue of Dungeon, with a new installment in the Adventure Path. I've only just glanced at it but it looks like a planar sojourn may be in the future for our dedicated heroes (and, from the art, some weird foes...). Now I just have to get caught up.
I'm staffing all-day meetings this week, so I may not get a chance to post again until Friday... but there's a pretty decent cliffhanger in the works, of course...
Thanks again for reading,
LB
). Besides, there's plenty of priests of Helm left to kill off.
BTW, I just got the latest issue of Dungeon, with a new installment in the Adventure Path. I've only just glanced at it but it looks like a planar sojourn may be in the future for our dedicated heroes (and, from the art, some weird foes...). Now I just have to get caught up.
I'm staffing all-day meetings this week, so I may not get a chance to post again until Friday... but there's a pretty decent cliffhanger in the works, of course...
Thanks again for reading,
LB
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 97
The “secret” of their mission lasted the better part of an hour. Mole, delighted to find someone who hadn’t heard all of the tales of their adventures, chattered non-stop, her magical boots allowing her to easily pace the trudging steps of their new companion. At first Zenna thought that the dwarf might go into a berserk rage after a few hours of this, but Hodge seemed to mostly ignore the gnome, occasionally punctuating his steps with a grunt or a fat gob of spittle. Furthermore, when Hodge mentioned something to Arun the paladin—naturally—responded with complete and stark honesty about their destination. Zenna thought that news that they intended to travel into the Underdark would have cured their fellow traveler of any inclination to accompany them further, but if anything it seemed to strengthen his resolve to match his course to theirs.
She sighed. Well, he’d learn soon enough what sort of trouble the four of them always seemed to get into.
That night, in camp, Zenna caught Mole unloading a gob of spit into the fire, when she thought no one was looking. The gnome didn’t pull it off very well, leaving most of the spittle on the front of her cloak, but Zenna had no doubt that her friend would quickly master all of Hodge’s bad habits.
The dwarf was... disgusting, yes, that was the one and only word for his behavior, Zenna thought. What was worse, he seemed either oblivious or completely unconcerned as to the effects of his behavior upon his traveling companions. He stank, he spat constantly, he swore at the faintest provocation, and he seemed to take a perverse delight at tweaking Arun in his fastidiousness and piety. Zenna shook her head—to think of the gold dwarf in those terms! By contrast to Hodge, however, Arun was like a virginal monk of Ilmater.
This was all Dannel’s fault. Zenna wasn’t quite able to work out the exact logic of that conclusion, but it was nonetheless quite fixed in her thoughts. The elf furthermore seemed to treat the entire situation with amusement, probably taking pleasure in her discomfort with the whole situation. Who had invited him, anyway?
Two days after their battle with the displacer beasts and meeting with Hodge, they found themselves approaching their immediate destination. Dannel, who had been carrying the map given to them by Celeste, led them up a trail that switchbacked up a ridge that gave onto a broad alpine plateau. A cold wind blew constantly down out of the mountains, and while the plateau contained knots of evergreens and sere mountain grasses that had persisted despite the winter, the landscape as a whole was stark and bracing. Boulders lay strewn about as though dropped by careless giants, and wide stretches of land were marked by nothing more than scattered stones and bare granite worn smooth by the unceasing wind. Behind them they could see the sprawling expanse of the Almraiven Vale, stretching north from the coast between the rising mountain range and the implacable Forest of Mir. Ahead lay the fog-shrouded peaks of the Alamirs, and beyond that, the Lake of Steam.
“Quite a view,” Dannel said, standing at the summit of the trail, staring out over the vista as he waited for the others to join him at the top.
“What’s that, now?” Arun said, huffing slightly as he cleared the crest and looked out over the plateau. Despite his dwarven fortitude, he was still burdened with more weight than all of the others, what with his heavy armor, shield, and hammers. He also insisted on carrying one of the two heavy wool tents that they bore with them, even though the bulging pack he bore gave him the almost outrageous appearance of a two-legged pack mule.
“Our current destination, I would presume,” Dannel said.
As the remainder of the party gathered at the summit, they could all clearly distinguish what the dwarf had spotted. It was a crude dwelling, a wooden structure surrounded by a barrier of tanned hides stretched from wooden pilings that formed the appearance of a wall without the substance. The place was clearly in poor repair, although a faint line of smoke rising from the building hinted at current occupancy.
“Why’dja bring us ‘ere?” Hodge piped up, for once not venturing spittle in the unpredictably shifting winds to punctuate his statement.
“Someone dwells here with information that we need,” Dannel started to explain, but Hodge interrupted him with a grunt.
“Bah, yer wantin’ to chat with that loonie? Waste o’ bleedin’ time, that feller’s crazier than a bunch o’ drunken elves at Midsummer. No offense,” he added, with a desultory glance at Dannel.
“None taken,” the elf said, rolling his eyes.
“You can be on your way at any time,” Arun said to the other dwarf, adjusting his pack as he turned toward the crude structure where Crazy Jared dwelled.
“Neh, this should be interestin’,” Hodge said, falling in with them as the adventurers started across the plateau.
The plateau wasn’t very far across, perhaps a half-mile, and the predominance of at least relatively flat terrain made for easy going. Other than the wind, there was a strange quiet over the mountains, which tickled the caution of the five veterans. Hodge paused to wind his massive crossbow, an action which drew querying looks but no question. A few steps later Mole unlimbered her own crossbow and loaded it, followed quickly by Zenna. They could all feel it, a sense of vague anticipation that belied the harmless appearance of the mountaintop dwelling.
They were perhaps one hundred yards away from the structure when a loud crash from somewhere within stopped them in their tracks. A disheveled figure clad in a chaotic mantle that swirled in the wind rushed out of the hut. From their current distance they could only see that he was an older man, and that he clutched what appeared to be a silver rod in both hands as he ran. He spotted them, and came running toward them, shouting something that was lost on the wind.
“What the...” Dannel began.
He didn’t get a chance to finish his thought, for at that moment a hulking form rose up into the air behind the hut. It hung there for a moment, its wings outstretched, catching the air and the pale afternoon light... a dragon, its body not much larger than a horse, but dramatic nonetheless as it swept forward and landed on the roof of the building. They could hear the sound of the impact across the field separating them from the beast, punctuated a moment later as the dragon lifted its head and unleashed a terrible roar that seemed to shake the very mountain beneath their feet. Then it crouched and hurled itself into the air once more, its wings spreading to capture the wind even as its head came down, its jaws opening wide to disgorge a stream of liquid fire onto the hut. The eager flames poured over it like a pitcher of water dumped upon a stone, and in seconds the place was engulfed in fire.
“By the gods,” Zenna breathed. The others, unable to even speak, simply watched in stunned amazement.
Then, shaking them out of their reverie, the yells of the fleeing hermit—Jared, no doubt—came to them. The dragon, still hanging there in the sky thirty feet above the burning shack, lifted its head and fixed them with a baleful stare. Its powerful wings pumped, lifting the creature higher and toward them.
“Run!” Zenna cried, even as the companions reached for their weapons.
As the dragon swept toward them, the old man, a speck against the looming bulk of the monstrosity overhead, shouted at them again. “Onward, my knights! For Anduria!” As he lifted the silver rod, there was a gleaming flash of light, and in that instant his tattered robe became a golden mantle trimmed in fur, a shimmering crown laid lightly upon his head, a trailing length of crimson fabric fluttering in the wind behind him.
“Scatter!” Dannel cried in warning, the dragon’s intent clear as it lifted higher off of the ground, peaking with another powerful stroke of its wings before streaking down in a lunging glide toward them, its jaws already opening with the promise of death.
The “secret” of their mission lasted the better part of an hour. Mole, delighted to find someone who hadn’t heard all of the tales of their adventures, chattered non-stop, her magical boots allowing her to easily pace the trudging steps of their new companion. At first Zenna thought that the dwarf might go into a berserk rage after a few hours of this, but Hodge seemed to mostly ignore the gnome, occasionally punctuating his steps with a grunt or a fat gob of spittle. Furthermore, when Hodge mentioned something to Arun the paladin—naturally—responded with complete and stark honesty about their destination. Zenna thought that news that they intended to travel into the Underdark would have cured their fellow traveler of any inclination to accompany them further, but if anything it seemed to strengthen his resolve to match his course to theirs.
She sighed. Well, he’d learn soon enough what sort of trouble the four of them always seemed to get into.
That night, in camp, Zenna caught Mole unloading a gob of spit into the fire, when she thought no one was looking. The gnome didn’t pull it off very well, leaving most of the spittle on the front of her cloak, but Zenna had no doubt that her friend would quickly master all of Hodge’s bad habits.
The dwarf was... disgusting, yes, that was the one and only word for his behavior, Zenna thought. What was worse, he seemed either oblivious or completely unconcerned as to the effects of his behavior upon his traveling companions. He stank, he spat constantly, he swore at the faintest provocation, and he seemed to take a perverse delight at tweaking Arun in his fastidiousness and piety. Zenna shook her head—to think of the gold dwarf in those terms! By contrast to Hodge, however, Arun was like a virginal monk of Ilmater.
This was all Dannel’s fault. Zenna wasn’t quite able to work out the exact logic of that conclusion, but it was nonetheless quite fixed in her thoughts. The elf furthermore seemed to treat the entire situation with amusement, probably taking pleasure in her discomfort with the whole situation. Who had invited him, anyway?
Two days after their battle with the displacer beasts and meeting with Hodge, they found themselves approaching their immediate destination. Dannel, who had been carrying the map given to them by Celeste, led them up a trail that switchbacked up a ridge that gave onto a broad alpine plateau. A cold wind blew constantly down out of the mountains, and while the plateau contained knots of evergreens and sere mountain grasses that had persisted despite the winter, the landscape as a whole was stark and bracing. Boulders lay strewn about as though dropped by careless giants, and wide stretches of land were marked by nothing more than scattered stones and bare granite worn smooth by the unceasing wind. Behind them they could see the sprawling expanse of the Almraiven Vale, stretching north from the coast between the rising mountain range and the implacable Forest of Mir. Ahead lay the fog-shrouded peaks of the Alamirs, and beyond that, the Lake of Steam.
“Quite a view,” Dannel said, standing at the summit of the trail, staring out over the vista as he waited for the others to join him at the top.
“What’s that, now?” Arun said, huffing slightly as he cleared the crest and looked out over the plateau. Despite his dwarven fortitude, he was still burdened with more weight than all of the others, what with his heavy armor, shield, and hammers. He also insisted on carrying one of the two heavy wool tents that they bore with them, even though the bulging pack he bore gave him the almost outrageous appearance of a two-legged pack mule.
“Our current destination, I would presume,” Dannel said.
As the remainder of the party gathered at the summit, they could all clearly distinguish what the dwarf had spotted. It was a crude dwelling, a wooden structure surrounded by a barrier of tanned hides stretched from wooden pilings that formed the appearance of a wall without the substance. The place was clearly in poor repair, although a faint line of smoke rising from the building hinted at current occupancy.
“Why’dja bring us ‘ere?” Hodge piped up, for once not venturing spittle in the unpredictably shifting winds to punctuate his statement.
“Someone dwells here with information that we need,” Dannel started to explain, but Hodge interrupted him with a grunt.
“Bah, yer wantin’ to chat with that loonie? Waste o’ bleedin’ time, that feller’s crazier than a bunch o’ drunken elves at Midsummer. No offense,” he added, with a desultory glance at Dannel.
“None taken,” the elf said, rolling his eyes.
“You can be on your way at any time,” Arun said to the other dwarf, adjusting his pack as he turned toward the crude structure where Crazy Jared dwelled.
“Neh, this should be interestin’,” Hodge said, falling in with them as the adventurers started across the plateau.
The plateau wasn’t very far across, perhaps a half-mile, and the predominance of at least relatively flat terrain made for easy going. Other than the wind, there was a strange quiet over the mountains, which tickled the caution of the five veterans. Hodge paused to wind his massive crossbow, an action which drew querying looks but no question. A few steps later Mole unlimbered her own crossbow and loaded it, followed quickly by Zenna. They could all feel it, a sense of vague anticipation that belied the harmless appearance of the mountaintop dwelling.
They were perhaps one hundred yards away from the structure when a loud crash from somewhere within stopped them in their tracks. A disheveled figure clad in a chaotic mantle that swirled in the wind rushed out of the hut. From their current distance they could only see that he was an older man, and that he clutched what appeared to be a silver rod in both hands as he ran. He spotted them, and came running toward them, shouting something that was lost on the wind.
“What the...” Dannel began.
He didn’t get a chance to finish his thought, for at that moment a hulking form rose up into the air behind the hut. It hung there for a moment, its wings outstretched, catching the air and the pale afternoon light... a dragon, its body not much larger than a horse, but dramatic nonetheless as it swept forward and landed on the roof of the building. They could hear the sound of the impact across the field separating them from the beast, punctuated a moment later as the dragon lifted its head and unleashed a terrible roar that seemed to shake the very mountain beneath their feet. Then it crouched and hurled itself into the air once more, its wings spreading to capture the wind even as its head came down, its jaws opening wide to disgorge a stream of liquid fire onto the hut. The eager flames poured over it like a pitcher of water dumped upon a stone, and in seconds the place was engulfed in fire.
“By the gods,” Zenna breathed. The others, unable to even speak, simply watched in stunned amazement.
Then, shaking them out of their reverie, the yells of the fleeing hermit—Jared, no doubt—came to them. The dragon, still hanging there in the sky thirty feet above the burning shack, lifted its head and fixed them with a baleful stare. Its powerful wings pumped, lifting the creature higher and toward them.
“Run!” Zenna cried, even as the companions reached for their weapons.
As the dragon swept toward them, the old man, a speck against the looming bulk of the monstrosity overhead, shouted at them again. “Onward, my knights! For Anduria!” As he lifted the silver rod, there was a gleaming flash of light, and in that instant his tattered robe became a golden mantle trimmed in fur, a shimmering crown laid lightly upon his head, a trailing length of crimson fabric fluttering in the wind behind him.
“Scatter!” Dannel cried in warning, the dragon’s intent clear as it lifted higher off of the ground, peaking with another powerful stroke of its wings before streaking down in a lunging glide toward them, its jaws already opening with the promise of death.
Broccli_Head
Explorer
wolff96 said:MMmmm... Dragon.
Tastes good barbecue style.
I don't know, can you barbecue a fire-breathing dragon. I'm thinkin' that its flesh might be immune. Now...dragon steaks, tartar....that would be interesting.
Lazybones
Adventurer
I haven't had as much time to write lately, so updates may be a bit more sporadic for a while.
* * * * *
Chapter 98
A few missiles shot up at the diving dragon, shafts from Dannel’s powerful longbow and the crossbows of the others. Zenna lifted her own weapon with trembling hands, the small device of wood and metal seeming pathetic against the terrible majesty of the dragon. It filled her vision as she aimed and fired, but the bolt, caught in the gusts of wind that swirled over the plateau, spun harmlessly astray, missing the dragon by a good ten feet. A few of the other shots at least hit it, although the darts seemed of little use against the thick hide of the beast.
Then it dove, and fire filled the world.
Zenna saw Mole leaping into a roll, then everything was pain. Her heritage provided her with some small protection against fire, but it was nothing against this heat. As a child, she had amused herself and startled the other children by grasping burning brands from the hearth, letting the flames play harmless across her hands and forearms. But now she burned, screaming as the hot flames crinkled her flesh and scored her body. She was falling, falling...
Dannel’s heart froze in his chest as the dragon’s breath engulfed Zenna. He was just outside the radius of the blast, but the wave of heat from the point of impact struck him with the force of a blow. He ignored that, however, rushing blindly into the ring of carnage where the land itself was scorched to black where the breath weapon had impacted. She was there, still smoldering, her cloak burned back from her shoulders, her flesh blackened...
He started toward her, but was jostled aside by Arun, who bent down and scooped up the unconscious tiefling. The dwarf’s armor was likewise blasted and scorched, and wisps of steam rose from the gaps in his helm, but the dwarf ignored his own hurts and focused on the crippled woman, pouring lifesaving healing energy drawn from his sacred bond to Moradin into her.
“She lives, elf, but we’ll all die if we don’t find some shelter from that monster!”
The hard words shook Dannel from his fear, and he looked up to see that the dragon was indeed turning for another pass, almost leisurely twisting around the edge of the plateau in a wide arc. Dannel scanned the landscape, taking in their entire surroundings in a single glance, before pointing at a knobby cluster of boulders that formed a little maze of rock off to one side of the plateau. “There!” he yelled, pointing with his bow. Without hesitation Arun started off in that direction, Zenna’s limp form cradled against his body. Hodge, his entire right side heavily burned as well, ran after him, and quickly passed the more burdened paladin as he ran for the promise of cover.
“Go!” Dannel shouted to Mole, who was reloading her crossbow. The dragon had now realigned its course, and was coming in again across the plateau. “Go!”
“What about you?” the gnome yelled.
“I’ll draw its attention!”
“But—”
“GO!” the elf shouted. Reluctantly, Mole complied, her magical boots carrying her in long strides across the barren rock.
“Fight bravely, my knights!” Jared was shouting, waving his rod as though it were indeed a kingly standard. “Hold the line against the terror of the Beast!”
Dannel ignored him, drawing the feathers of his arrow to his cheek as the dragon dove again. The creature seemed intent on destroying the largest group of foes, ignoring both the crazy illusionist and the solitary elf apparently bent on suicide.
Well. He would have to convince the beast that he was a threat.
As the dragon bore down on him, Dannel released his hold on the taut string, driving his arrow like a knife through the swirling winds. The arrow vanished into the dragon’s maw, already open in preparation of another devastating blast of fire. The dragon shook its head and roared in fury, the smooth arc of its dive interrupted by the stinging pain of the hit. It broke off, its wings beating to carry it back up into the air, but as its momentum carried it over Dannel, it snapped its head back momentarily and unleashed a gout of flame.
The nimble elf launched himself to the side, but could not fully escape the force of the flames that struck him hard across the back. Searing tongues of flame caressed his back and sent tendrils of pain across his shoulders and neck as he hurled forward and came up into a roll. He dug at his hip quiver for another arrow, but the dragon had already drawn away, gaining altitude again.
“Wonderfully done, noble archer!” Jared shouted in approval. The madman had closed to within thirty feet, his noble raiment swirling around his body. “That will teach yonder drake to trifle with my subjects!”
But Dannel wasn’t convinced for a moment that the dragon was finished with them. His suspicion was confirmed a moment later when the beast began another broad turn over the edge of the plateau.
“Get to cover, old man!” Dannel said, all but driving the “king” in the direction of the boulders where the others had taken cover.
“I say, this is not a way to treat your sovereign!” Jared declaimed, but he did start moving, perhaps a bit more quickly than was required by the demands of gravitas.
Dannel paused to call upon the potency of a minor spell, the words of a song filling the air with the momentary tingle of magic. The enchantment, that of expeditious retreat, added to his speed, allowing him to move with fleetness across the plateau. He deliberately went wide of the hermit, hoping that the dragon would target the one who had caused it the most injury thus far.
The dragon’s course, however, was slow and deliberate, giving them ample time to reach the shelter of the boulder field. The scattered boulders rose up like a dozen stubby fingers clutching skyward, with numerous cracks and crevices offering cover and concealment.
“Over here, elf!” Arun shouted, drawing Dannel around to a leaning rock that sheltered the paladin, gnome, and the ravaged form of Zenna. To Dannel’s immense relief Zenna was moving about under her own power, although she still looked terrible, with half of her hair burned off to reveal blackened skin beneath. She’d lost her magical hat, and Dannel could see the white of her horns jutting from the front of her skull, contrasting jarringly with the red and black of her flame-ravaged skin.
“Where’s Hodge?” Dannel asked, looking around for the other dwarf.
Arun gestured with a sharp nod, and Dannel turned to see Hodge crouched under another leaning boulder about ten paces distant. Upon meeting the elf’s gaze, the dwarf straightened some, his expression darkening.
“I’m not as ready to die as the lot o’yer,” he almost snarled, rubbing his face with his arm. But Dannel could see that he held to his heavy crossbow as if it were a lifeline, and that the fat steel head of the bolt quivered slightly.
“Here it comes again!” Mole warned.
“That crazy fool,” Arun growled, looking around the edges of his cover to see Jared, still garbed in his illusory resplendence, approaching their bastion. The dragon seemed to fill the sky behind him, though he was still a good distance off. The dwarven paladin leapt out of cover long enough to grab the surprised madman, all but hurling him into a crevice in the lee of two jutting boulders.
Zenna started to get up, but Dannel quickly forestalled her. “Stay under cover,” he ordered.
“I can fight,” she said, her voice raspy.
“I know,” he said. “But stay under cover, and let us draw its attention. Strike when it doesn’t see you... that goes for you, too, Mole.”
“Yessir, captain,” Mole said with a salute, but it was clear from her expression that her gaiety was forced.
The sound of the wind grew louder for a moment, announcing the arrival of the dragon a moment before a hot wash of heat brushed over them. The flames struck at the front of their redoubt, licking around the stones but failing to do any real damage to the concealed adventurers. As the dragon arced off of its dive, a few missiles shot out after it. A throwing hammer rose up out of the cluster of boulders, but bounded off of the dragon’s chest without doing damage. Mole’s shot stuck in its hindquarters, but Dannel’s arrow glanced off an armored scale. Hodge didn’t even lift his bow, and Arun turned on him as he returned to where the rest of them hid.
“If you’re not even going to shoot that, give it to me,” the paladin said.
“Stay away from me,” the dwarven miner growled.
“It’s coming back,” Mole’s voice rose up from somewhere. “Looks like... uh oh, it’s going to land!”
“Stand fast, my warriors—” Jared began, but Arun cut him off. “Just shut up and stay hidden,” the dwarf commanded.
The hermit stood, exposing himself alarmingly to attack. “I’ll not be spoken to in that manner, ser,” he said, with a loud harrumph. “But nor will I allow some... some beast to waylay my kingdom!”
“Oh, for the love of...” Dannel said, darting around his covering boulder to get to the old man.
Even as he caught sight of Crazy Jared, though, Dannel looked up to see the broad outline of the dragon descending upon them. Jared saw it as well as the shadow of the creature fell over them, but instead of retreating in terror he lifted his arms dramatically, and pointed his rod at the drake.
“Be gone, foul creature!” he cried, and unleashed a loud screech that sounded like fingernails being drawn across a flat slab of slate. The companions covered their ears at the sound, but the dragon, its claws outstretched as it descended, roared and shook its head violently. The action caused it to miss its intended perch, and it pumped its wings to avoid an awkward landing among the uneven stones. As it pulled around its tail lashed out at where Jared stood, but Dannel leapt at the man, dragging both of them down back into the crevice moments before the tail struck the spot he’d been standing with enough force to crack the weathered stone.
“T’would appear that the creature has a resistance to my powers,” the old man said, as he struggled feebly in Dannel’s grasp.
“You think so?” the elf opined, trying to disengage himself while keeping his grip on his bow.
A few more missiles shot out at the creature from the hiding places of the companions as the dragon settled to a landing at the edge of the boulder field, again scoring minor hits at best. The dragon let out another terrible roar as it crept forward, scanning the nooks and crannies among the stony debris for signs of its victims. Its sibilant hiss crept over them like a promise of death, as it pulled itself up onto the nearest of the boulders with its powerful claws.
“Enough—I’m not stickin’ around here to be dragon-food!” Hodge yelled, and he broke from cover, lumbering away from the concealing boulders toward the edge of the plateau.
“Hodge, no!” Zenna cried, but there was nothing that she could do to stop the dwarf. The dragon was instantly drawn by the noise and movement, and leapt nimbly over the entire cluster of boulders, its wings pumping to help carry it over the obstacle. Its rear claws dug in upon landing, scoring the stone as it propelled itself forward with great speed.
Overtaking the fleeing dwarf in a matter of heartbeats.
* * * * *
Chapter 98
A few missiles shot up at the diving dragon, shafts from Dannel’s powerful longbow and the crossbows of the others. Zenna lifted her own weapon with trembling hands, the small device of wood and metal seeming pathetic against the terrible majesty of the dragon. It filled her vision as she aimed and fired, but the bolt, caught in the gusts of wind that swirled over the plateau, spun harmlessly astray, missing the dragon by a good ten feet. A few of the other shots at least hit it, although the darts seemed of little use against the thick hide of the beast.
Then it dove, and fire filled the world.
Zenna saw Mole leaping into a roll, then everything was pain. Her heritage provided her with some small protection against fire, but it was nothing against this heat. As a child, she had amused herself and startled the other children by grasping burning brands from the hearth, letting the flames play harmless across her hands and forearms. But now she burned, screaming as the hot flames crinkled her flesh and scored her body. She was falling, falling...
Dannel’s heart froze in his chest as the dragon’s breath engulfed Zenna. He was just outside the radius of the blast, but the wave of heat from the point of impact struck him with the force of a blow. He ignored that, however, rushing blindly into the ring of carnage where the land itself was scorched to black where the breath weapon had impacted. She was there, still smoldering, her cloak burned back from her shoulders, her flesh blackened...
He started toward her, but was jostled aside by Arun, who bent down and scooped up the unconscious tiefling. The dwarf’s armor was likewise blasted and scorched, and wisps of steam rose from the gaps in his helm, but the dwarf ignored his own hurts and focused on the crippled woman, pouring lifesaving healing energy drawn from his sacred bond to Moradin into her.
“She lives, elf, but we’ll all die if we don’t find some shelter from that monster!”
The hard words shook Dannel from his fear, and he looked up to see that the dragon was indeed turning for another pass, almost leisurely twisting around the edge of the plateau in a wide arc. Dannel scanned the landscape, taking in their entire surroundings in a single glance, before pointing at a knobby cluster of boulders that formed a little maze of rock off to one side of the plateau. “There!” he yelled, pointing with his bow. Without hesitation Arun started off in that direction, Zenna’s limp form cradled against his body. Hodge, his entire right side heavily burned as well, ran after him, and quickly passed the more burdened paladin as he ran for the promise of cover.
“Go!” Dannel shouted to Mole, who was reloading her crossbow. The dragon had now realigned its course, and was coming in again across the plateau. “Go!”
“What about you?” the gnome yelled.
“I’ll draw its attention!”
“But—”
“GO!” the elf shouted. Reluctantly, Mole complied, her magical boots carrying her in long strides across the barren rock.
“Fight bravely, my knights!” Jared was shouting, waving his rod as though it were indeed a kingly standard. “Hold the line against the terror of the Beast!”
Dannel ignored him, drawing the feathers of his arrow to his cheek as the dragon dove again. The creature seemed intent on destroying the largest group of foes, ignoring both the crazy illusionist and the solitary elf apparently bent on suicide.
Well. He would have to convince the beast that he was a threat.
As the dragon bore down on him, Dannel released his hold on the taut string, driving his arrow like a knife through the swirling winds. The arrow vanished into the dragon’s maw, already open in preparation of another devastating blast of fire. The dragon shook its head and roared in fury, the smooth arc of its dive interrupted by the stinging pain of the hit. It broke off, its wings beating to carry it back up into the air, but as its momentum carried it over Dannel, it snapped its head back momentarily and unleashed a gout of flame.
The nimble elf launched himself to the side, but could not fully escape the force of the flames that struck him hard across the back. Searing tongues of flame caressed his back and sent tendrils of pain across his shoulders and neck as he hurled forward and came up into a roll. He dug at his hip quiver for another arrow, but the dragon had already drawn away, gaining altitude again.
“Wonderfully done, noble archer!” Jared shouted in approval. The madman had closed to within thirty feet, his noble raiment swirling around his body. “That will teach yonder drake to trifle with my subjects!”
But Dannel wasn’t convinced for a moment that the dragon was finished with them. His suspicion was confirmed a moment later when the beast began another broad turn over the edge of the plateau.
“Get to cover, old man!” Dannel said, all but driving the “king” in the direction of the boulders where the others had taken cover.
“I say, this is not a way to treat your sovereign!” Jared declaimed, but he did start moving, perhaps a bit more quickly than was required by the demands of gravitas.
Dannel paused to call upon the potency of a minor spell, the words of a song filling the air with the momentary tingle of magic. The enchantment, that of expeditious retreat, added to his speed, allowing him to move with fleetness across the plateau. He deliberately went wide of the hermit, hoping that the dragon would target the one who had caused it the most injury thus far.
The dragon’s course, however, was slow and deliberate, giving them ample time to reach the shelter of the boulder field. The scattered boulders rose up like a dozen stubby fingers clutching skyward, with numerous cracks and crevices offering cover and concealment.
“Over here, elf!” Arun shouted, drawing Dannel around to a leaning rock that sheltered the paladin, gnome, and the ravaged form of Zenna. To Dannel’s immense relief Zenna was moving about under her own power, although she still looked terrible, with half of her hair burned off to reveal blackened skin beneath. She’d lost her magical hat, and Dannel could see the white of her horns jutting from the front of her skull, contrasting jarringly with the red and black of her flame-ravaged skin.
“Where’s Hodge?” Dannel asked, looking around for the other dwarf.
Arun gestured with a sharp nod, and Dannel turned to see Hodge crouched under another leaning boulder about ten paces distant. Upon meeting the elf’s gaze, the dwarf straightened some, his expression darkening.
“I’m not as ready to die as the lot o’yer,” he almost snarled, rubbing his face with his arm. But Dannel could see that he held to his heavy crossbow as if it were a lifeline, and that the fat steel head of the bolt quivered slightly.
“Here it comes again!” Mole warned.
“That crazy fool,” Arun growled, looking around the edges of his cover to see Jared, still garbed in his illusory resplendence, approaching their bastion. The dragon seemed to fill the sky behind him, though he was still a good distance off. The dwarven paladin leapt out of cover long enough to grab the surprised madman, all but hurling him into a crevice in the lee of two jutting boulders.
Zenna started to get up, but Dannel quickly forestalled her. “Stay under cover,” he ordered.
“I can fight,” she said, her voice raspy.
“I know,” he said. “But stay under cover, and let us draw its attention. Strike when it doesn’t see you... that goes for you, too, Mole.”
“Yessir, captain,” Mole said with a salute, but it was clear from her expression that her gaiety was forced.
The sound of the wind grew louder for a moment, announcing the arrival of the dragon a moment before a hot wash of heat brushed over them. The flames struck at the front of their redoubt, licking around the stones but failing to do any real damage to the concealed adventurers. As the dragon arced off of its dive, a few missiles shot out after it. A throwing hammer rose up out of the cluster of boulders, but bounded off of the dragon’s chest without doing damage. Mole’s shot stuck in its hindquarters, but Dannel’s arrow glanced off an armored scale. Hodge didn’t even lift his bow, and Arun turned on him as he returned to where the rest of them hid.
“If you’re not even going to shoot that, give it to me,” the paladin said.
“Stay away from me,” the dwarven miner growled.
“It’s coming back,” Mole’s voice rose up from somewhere. “Looks like... uh oh, it’s going to land!”
“Stand fast, my warriors—” Jared began, but Arun cut him off. “Just shut up and stay hidden,” the dwarf commanded.
The hermit stood, exposing himself alarmingly to attack. “I’ll not be spoken to in that manner, ser,” he said, with a loud harrumph. “But nor will I allow some... some beast to waylay my kingdom!”
“Oh, for the love of...” Dannel said, darting around his covering boulder to get to the old man.
Even as he caught sight of Crazy Jared, though, Dannel looked up to see the broad outline of the dragon descending upon them. Jared saw it as well as the shadow of the creature fell over them, but instead of retreating in terror he lifted his arms dramatically, and pointed his rod at the drake.
“Be gone, foul creature!” he cried, and unleashed a loud screech that sounded like fingernails being drawn across a flat slab of slate. The companions covered their ears at the sound, but the dragon, its claws outstretched as it descended, roared and shook its head violently. The action caused it to miss its intended perch, and it pumped its wings to avoid an awkward landing among the uneven stones. As it pulled around its tail lashed out at where Jared stood, but Dannel leapt at the man, dragging both of them down back into the crevice moments before the tail struck the spot he’d been standing with enough force to crack the weathered stone.
“T’would appear that the creature has a resistance to my powers,” the old man said, as he struggled feebly in Dannel’s grasp.
“You think so?” the elf opined, trying to disengage himself while keeping his grip on his bow.
A few more missiles shot out at the creature from the hiding places of the companions as the dragon settled to a landing at the edge of the boulder field, again scoring minor hits at best. The dragon let out another terrible roar as it crept forward, scanning the nooks and crannies among the stony debris for signs of its victims. Its sibilant hiss crept over them like a promise of death, as it pulled itself up onto the nearest of the boulders with its powerful claws.
“Enough—I’m not stickin’ around here to be dragon-food!” Hodge yelled, and he broke from cover, lumbering away from the concealing boulders toward the edge of the plateau.
“Hodge, no!” Zenna cried, but there was nothing that she could do to stop the dwarf. The dragon was instantly drawn by the noise and movement, and leapt nimbly over the entire cluster of boulders, its wings pumping to help carry it over the obstacle. Its rear claws dug in upon landing, scoring the stone as it propelled itself forward with great speed.
Overtaking the fleeing dwarf in a matter of heartbeats.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 99
The companions were unable to intervene as the dragon leapt forward after the fleeing dwarf miner. Hodge could feel the impact of the dragon as it landed running, the very ground shaking beneath it, and his face was livid with terror as he glanced back over his shoulder, his legs pumping furiously in a violent yet futile effort to escape. He finally spun and fired his crossbow with a cry that was part anger, part fear, and part desperation, but the missile only glanced off the dragon’s scaled neck as its head shot down at its prey, its jaws snapping open to reveal row upon row of jagged teeth the size of daggers.
Hodge tried to twist away, but the edge of the dragon’s jaws closed on his shoulder, tearing chain links, leather, and flesh as it dragged him roughly to the side in a broad arc. The dwarf’s empty crossbow went flying uselessly away, and the struggling dwarf left behind a trail of scraped dirt spattered with blood for a full ten feet before he finally broke free, flopping to the ground in a bloody mess. The dragon quickly recovered to face the seriously injured dwarf, who feebly clutched at his axe as he struggled to rise to face the terrible beast’s renewed assault.
“Hold on, brave warrior, help is on the way!” came Jared’s voice from the shelter of the redoubt. A stirring battle chant spread out over the battlefield in old Chondanthan, the rousing cadences inspiring even though the archaic language of the verses that were lost over the sounds of the wind and the violence of the battle.
Dannel leapt up into a firing position in a raised notch between two boulders, his arrow coming back even as he settled into place. But even as he drew the arrow to his cheek, the flame-scorched bowstring snapped. The arrow went flying off into the rocks, and the elf slipped back, off-balance, only narrowly averting a fall into the gap between the looming stones.
From deeper in the rocks came another bolt. Mole’s shot was more fortuitous than her companion’s, and stuck between a gap in the scales in the dragon’s back between its wings. The tiny bolt did little apparent damage, however, and did not distract the dragon from its immediate target. The dragon placed its hind legs solidly on the broken ground, rearing up and spreading its wings until it loomed over Hodge’s battered and burned form like an angel of death. The dwarf, now holding his axe in a bloody hand, swiped at it as if the weak blow could keep it at bay, but the edge of the axe merely glanced harmlessly off the drake’s torso; it was doubtful that the creature even felt it.
But even as the dragon let out a triumphant roar, an echoing sound came from its flank. The dragon’s head came around even as Arun charged into the fray, his shield high in one hand and his heavy warhammer raised to strike in the other. The dwarf’s battle cry echoed across the plateau as he crashed into the dragon with the force of a battering ram. Even the dwarf’s considerable bulk could not actually drive the beast backward, but as he brought his hammer down and crushed it solidly into the dragon’s chest, it was clear that the beast felt that blow.
But the dragon was not the sort of creature that could be felled by a single hit, and it was more than capable of defending itself.
Without further hesitation, the dragon unleashed a devastating assault upon the paladin. Already weakened by the blast of fire he’d absorbed earlier, the dwarf was hard-pressed to withstand the attacks that seemed to come from every direction at once. He saw the jaws snapping down and was able to bring his shield up in time to absorb an impact that nearly sent him sprawling. But that left his sides vulnerable, and claws with tips like forged iron savaged him, crushing into his flanks with incredible force. Although the magical plate armor covering his torso held, the sheer strength of the dragon and the concussive effects of the blows slammed through his body, juggling his organs like loose stones in an earthquake. One claw found a gap where his breastplate met the backplate of his armor, and when it drew back the long ivory tip was red with the paladin’s blood. Arun cried out again, this time in pain, as he staggered back.
The dragon would have been quick to press its advantage, but a scrabbling to its side drew its attention momentarily. Hodge had finally regained his footing, and now stumbled away from the melee, fumbling at his belt pouch for the reassuring touch of a vial of healing elixir. The dragon, in an almost contemptuous gesture, slashed out at the fleeing dwarf with its long tail. The scaled member caught Hodge across the back like a whip, and he went down like a sack of potatoes dropped roughly to the floor.
The dragon emitted a hiss of triumph and turned its attention back to the paladin. The distraction had lasted all of two seconds, perhaps.
But in that instant, the madman, Jared, had clambered atop a boulder that jutted precariously from the field of debris. Still clad in his illusory splendor, he lifted his arms broadly into the air, the silver rod shining even though the sun was obscured by the gray clouds above.
“Fell monster!” he cried, his voice echoing in a way that seemed uncanny coming from his slender frame. “The very earth of my realm rejects your blemish upon its soil!”
He gestured, and light flared from his fingertips, momentarily casting long shadows from the gathered boulders about his perch. And then, even as the dragon roared again in challenge, the ground around the hillock rumbled in answer. As the companions watched in amazement, a patch of boulders shuddered and rose up out of the debris field, taking on a humanoid form as the heavy stones spun and cluttered together, given consistency by an animating force from beyond drawn here by the madman’s magic.
Or at least that’s how it seemed. Zenna was the first to notice the inconsistencies; once she could look away from the dominating aspect of the elemental, she saw that the bits of dirt that fell from its form vanished before they hit the ground, and that as it moved forward, the hillock behind it was still as whole as it had been before, undisturbed by the removal of the boulders of its frame.
An illusion, she thought, glancing up at the grinning madman atop his perch with a reevaluating look. But a skilled one, for that.
Had the dragon been older, it would have ignored the vision, even forgetting the inconsistencies that had alerted Zenna. But Gottrod was still young for its kind, and in its blood rage of battle it turned from the smaller creatures that had managed only minor stings against it to face this new adversary. But as it leapt forward the companions could see that it moved noticeably more sluggishly than in its initial rush; collectively those small wounds were beginning to take their toll on the seemingly invincible creature.
Too late the dragon realized its mistake, recognizing the figment for what it was even as the elemental lifted its boulder-arms to strike. The dragon hissed and looked up at Jared, who was still loudly pontificating upon the subject of the drake’s imminent demise.
The dragon’s eyes narrowed, and its jaws opened wide as it sucked in a deep breath.
Then everything went dark.
Dannel used the distraction provided by Jared’s illusion to good effect, quickly drawing out a spare bowstring from his pouch and bracing himself against one of the boulders to restring the weapon. When he saw the dragon’s look at the madman, however, he knew what was coming even before the drake’s jaw opened wide.
“Get down!” he cried, already moving even as the sphere of darkness conjured by Zenna obscured the beast’s vision. A sound like a great bellows being pumped filled his ears, rivaling the pounding of his heart in his chest as he anticipated the death that was coming. He hurled forward, catching the edge of Jared’s cloak, pulling them down for a second time into cover.
Fire roared all around them as the dragon breathed. Partly shielded by the jutting boulder, the elf nonetheless felt his skin crinkle as the fire washed over it. His head swam, and he felt his consciousness dangling by a slender thread.
Then the flames and smoke cleared away enough for him to see, and he saw Jared, pressed close to him, the old man’s eyes shining with a surprising lucidity. The madman’s skin was red and blistered, and good portion of his robe was charred, but he’d gotten off better than Dannel. There was little doubt of what would have happened had the full force of the dragon’s breath had caught him while exposed atop the stones, however.
“Good work, lad,” he said, clasping the elf’s shoulder, helping him rise.
The dragon roared again, this time in frustration as it backed up out of the radius of the darkness. Right into Arun’s charge, as the dwarf came up behind it, narrowly dodging the blind sweep of its tail. With its incredible senses the dragon wasn’t truly blind even in the darkness, but again its relative inexperience was costing it precious seconds that the companions used to good advantage. With a cry to his divine patron, Arun unleashed a potent blow that caught the dragon solidly in the hindquarters. The paladin got revenge for his earlier wounds as he smote evil, channeling divine power through the wound into the very essence of the drake.
Gottrod was enraged, but through that its native intelligence still lurked, and despite the braggadocio and pride of the creature, it was quickly realizing the danger of its situation. While it didn’t doubt its ability to tear this troublesome dwarf to pieces, there were still multiple spellcasters hidden in the rocks, and archers—that point confirmed a moment later as another crossbow bolt lanced out of concealment, stabbing painfully into the meat of its shoulder.
It wasn’t fleeing, no—it could retreat, gauge the situation, and then return to blast these foes from above with fiery waves of hot flame. The dragon reared and pumped its powerful wings, lifting off into the air with a blast of downward wind that lifted a cloud of dust in its wake. Arun tried to close with it for a final blow, but the dragon pulled away before he could get close enough to strike. The dwarf shook his hammer and shouted a curse at it that was lost in the noise of its passage.
The dragon rose up over the field of boulders, already fifty feet above the ground and gaining altitude. It didn’t see the elf who rose up out of his position of cover, bracing himself and drawing his heavy bow back smoothly. The shaft shot out as the dragon passed, and for a moment it seemed as though the arrow just vanished into its bulk as the creature—still potent and terrible despite its wounds—lifted away into the sky.
It continued for another hundred yards, seemingly unaffected, but with each mighty pump of its wings, a great gout of blood poured from its nicked heart into its body cavity. Finally the creature seemed to just... shudder in the air, hanging there for a moment two hundred feet above the plateau.
Then, inexorably, it fell.
* * * * *
Readers: in case you were interested in how I game with actual players, I have been cleaning up and posting some of my old NWN campaign logs on my Web site. Check out my Neverwinter Connections forum for links to the text files. Since Neverwinter Nights records everything the players say to the log, these are mostly dialogue (I may go back and add more play-by-play later on):
http://www.neverwinterconnections.com/forums/index.cfm/fuseaction/viewthreads/id/33.htm
Click on "Lazy's Tavern" for the links.
The companions were unable to intervene as the dragon leapt forward after the fleeing dwarf miner. Hodge could feel the impact of the dragon as it landed running, the very ground shaking beneath it, and his face was livid with terror as he glanced back over his shoulder, his legs pumping furiously in a violent yet futile effort to escape. He finally spun and fired his crossbow with a cry that was part anger, part fear, and part desperation, but the missile only glanced off the dragon’s scaled neck as its head shot down at its prey, its jaws snapping open to reveal row upon row of jagged teeth the size of daggers.
Hodge tried to twist away, but the edge of the dragon’s jaws closed on his shoulder, tearing chain links, leather, and flesh as it dragged him roughly to the side in a broad arc. The dwarf’s empty crossbow went flying uselessly away, and the struggling dwarf left behind a trail of scraped dirt spattered with blood for a full ten feet before he finally broke free, flopping to the ground in a bloody mess. The dragon quickly recovered to face the seriously injured dwarf, who feebly clutched at his axe as he struggled to rise to face the terrible beast’s renewed assault.
“Hold on, brave warrior, help is on the way!” came Jared’s voice from the shelter of the redoubt. A stirring battle chant spread out over the battlefield in old Chondanthan, the rousing cadences inspiring even though the archaic language of the verses that were lost over the sounds of the wind and the violence of the battle.
Dannel leapt up into a firing position in a raised notch between two boulders, his arrow coming back even as he settled into place. But even as he drew the arrow to his cheek, the flame-scorched bowstring snapped. The arrow went flying off into the rocks, and the elf slipped back, off-balance, only narrowly averting a fall into the gap between the looming stones.
From deeper in the rocks came another bolt. Mole’s shot was more fortuitous than her companion’s, and stuck between a gap in the scales in the dragon’s back between its wings. The tiny bolt did little apparent damage, however, and did not distract the dragon from its immediate target. The dragon placed its hind legs solidly on the broken ground, rearing up and spreading its wings until it loomed over Hodge’s battered and burned form like an angel of death. The dwarf, now holding his axe in a bloody hand, swiped at it as if the weak blow could keep it at bay, but the edge of the axe merely glanced harmlessly off the drake’s torso; it was doubtful that the creature even felt it.
But even as the dragon let out a triumphant roar, an echoing sound came from its flank. The dragon’s head came around even as Arun charged into the fray, his shield high in one hand and his heavy warhammer raised to strike in the other. The dwarf’s battle cry echoed across the plateau as he crashed into the dragon with the force of a battering ram. Even the dwarf’s considerable bulk could not actually drive the beast backward, but as he brought his hammer down and crushed it solidly into the dragon’s chest, it was clear that the beast felt that blow.
But the dragon was not the sort of creature that could be felled by a single hit, and it was more than capable of defending itself.
Without further hesitation, the dragon unleashed a devastating assault upon the paladin. Already weakened by the blast of fire he’d absorbed earlier, the dwarf was hard-pressed to withstand the attacks that seemed to come from every direction at once. He saw the jaws snapping down and was able to bring his shield up in time to absorb an impact that nearly sent him sprawling. But that left his sides vulnerable, and claws with tips like forged iron savaged him, crushing into his flanks with incredible force. Although the magical plate armor covering his torso held, the sheer strength of the dragon and the concussive effects of the blows slammed through his body, juggling his organs like loose stones in an earthquake. One claw found a gap where his breastplate met the backplate of his armor, and when it drew back the long ivory tip was red with the paladin’s blood. Arun cried out again, this time in pain, as he staggered back.
The dragon would have been quick to press its advantage, but a scrabbling to its side drew its attention momentarily. Hodge had finally regained his footing, and now stumbled away from the melee, fumbling at his belt pouch for the reassuring touch of a vial of healing elixir. The dragon, in an almost contemptuous gesture, slashed out at the fleeing dwarf with its long tail. The scaled member caught Hodge across the back like a whip, and he went down like a sack of potatoes dropped roughly to the floor.
The dragon emitted a hiss of triumph and turned its attention back to the paladin. The distraction had lasted all of two seconds, perhaps.
But in that instant, the madman, Jared, had clambered atop a boulder that jutted precariously from the field of debris. Still clad in his illusory splendor, he lifted his arms broadly into the air, the silver rod shining even though the sun was obscured by the gray clouds above.
“Fell monster!” he cried, his voice echoing in a way that seemed uncanny coming from his slender frame. “The very earth of my realm rejects your blemish upon its soil!”
He gestured, and light flared from his fingertips, momentarily casting long shadows from the gathered boulders about his perch. And then, even as the dragon roared again in challenge, the ground around the hillock rumbled in answer. As the companions watched in amazement, a patch of boulders shuddered and rose up out of the debris field, taking on a humanoid form as the heavy stones spun and cluttered together, given consistency by an animating force from beyond drawn here by the madman’s magic.
Or at least that’s how it seemed. Zenna was the first to notice the inconsistencies; once she could look away from the dominating aspect of the elemental, she saw that the bits of dirt that fell from its form vanished before they hit the ground, and that as it moved forward, the hillock behind it was still as whole as it had been before, undisturbed by the removal of the boulders of its frame.
An illusion, she thought, glancing up at the grinning madman atop his perch with a reevaluating look. But a skilled one, for that.
Had the dragon been older, it would have ignored the vision, even forgetting the inconsistencies that had alerted Zenna. But Gottrod was still young for its kind, and in its blood rage of battle it turned from the smaller creatures that had managed only minor stings against it to face this new adversary. But as it leapt forward the companions could see that it moved noticeably more sluggishly than in its initial rush; collectively those small wounds were beginning to take their toll on the seemingly invincible creature.
Too late the dragon realized its mistake, recognizing the figment for what it was even as the elemental lifted its boulder-arms to strike. The dragon hissed and looked up at Jared, who was still loudly pontificating upon the subject of the drake’s imminent demise.
The dragon’s eyes narrowed, and its jaws opened wide as it sucked in a deep breath.
Then everything went dark.
Dannel used the distraction provided by Jared’s illusion to good effect, quickly drawing out a spare bowstring from his pouch and bracing himself against one of the boulders to restring the weapon. When he saw the dragon’s look at the madman, however, he knew what was coming even before the drake’s jaw opened wide.
“Get down!” he cried, already moving even as the sphere of darkness conjured by Zenna obscured the beast’s vision. A sound like a great bellows being pumped filled his ears, rivaling the pounding of his heart in his chest as he anticipated the death that was coming. He hurled forward, catching the edge of Jared’s cloak, pulling them down for a second time into cover.
Fire roared all around them as the dragon breathed. Partly shielded by the jutting boulder, the elf nonetheless felt his skin crinkle as the fire washed over it. His head swam, and he felt his consciousness dangling by a slender thread.
Then the flames and smoke cleared away enough for him to see, and he saw Jared, pressed close to him, the old man’s eyes shining with a surprising lucidity. The madman’s skin was red and blistered, and good portion of his robe was charred, but he’d gotten off better than Dannel. There was little doubt of what would have happened had the full force of the dragon’s breath had caught him while exposed atop the stones, however.
“Good work, lad,” he said, clasping the elf’s shoulder, helping him rise.
The dragon roared again, this time in frustration as it backed up out of the radius of the darkness. Right into Arun’s charge, as the dwarf came up behind it, narrowly dodging the blind sweep of its tail. With its incredible senses the dragon wasn’t truly blind even in the darkness, but again its relative inexperience was costing it precious seconds that the companions used to good advantage. With a cry to his divine patron, Arun unleashed a potent blow that caught the dragon solidly in the hindquarters. The paladin got revenge for his earlier wounds as he smote evil, channeling divine power through the wound into the very essence of the drake.
Gottrod was enraged, but through that its native intelligence still lurked, and despite the braggadocio and pride of the creature, it was quickly realizing the danger of its situation. While it didn’t doubt its ability to tear this troublesome dwarf to pieces, there were still multiple spellcasters hidden in the rocks, and archers—that point confirmed a moment later as another crossbow bolt lanced out of concealment, stabbing painfully into the meat of its shoulder.
It wasn’t fleeing, no—it could retreat, gauge the situation, and then return to blast these foes from above with fiery waves of hot flame. The dragon reared and pumped its powerful wings, lifting off into the air with a blast of downward wind that lifted a cloud of dust in its wake. Arun tried to close with it for a final blow, but the dragon pulled away before he could get close enough to strike. The dwarf shook his hammer and shouted a curse at it that was lost in the noise of its passage.
The dragon rose up over the field of boulders, already fifty feet above the ground and gaining altitude. It didn’t see the elf who rose up out of his position of cover, bracing himself and drawing his heavy bow back smoothly. The shaft shot out as the dragon passed, and for a moment it seemed as though the arrow just vanished into its bulk as the creature—still potent and terrible despite its wounds—lifted away into the sky.
It continued for another hundred yards, seemingly unaffected, but with each mighty pump of its wings, a great gout of blood poured from its nicked heart into its body cavity. Finally the creature seemed to just... shudder in the air, hanging there for a moment two hundred feet above the plateau.
Then, inexorably, it fell.
* * * * *
Readers: in case you were interested in how I game with actual players, I have been cleaning up and posting some of my old NWN campaign logs on my Web site. Check out my Neverwinter Connections forum for links to the text files. Since Neverwinter Nights records everything the players say to the log, these are mostly dialogue (I may go back and add more play-by-play later on):
http://www.neverwinterconnections.com/forums/index.cfm/fuseaction/viewthreads/id/33.htm
Click on "Lazy's Tavern" for the links.
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