Lazybones
Adventurer
Monday update!
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Book V, Part 27
The dragon was a relatively small example of its kind, at least in comparison to the great wyrms that were so often encountered in stories and fables. Still, the sheer power of its presence filled the chamber and twisted the hearts of the companions, even reaching the otherwise ferocious courage of the quaggoths. All of those present were stalwart, however, and while lesser companions might have fled before the magnificent terror of the beast, these warriors swallowed their fear and leapt to the fray. The melee fighters—including Dana, now that her spells were exhausted—lifted their weapons and charged, but barely covered three paces before the dragon reared up and opened its massive jaws.
The dragon was fast, but Cal and Benzan were faster. Even as the warriors charged toward the ferocious beast, each acted with reflexes honed by hard-won experience. Cal summoned one of his most powerful spells, his second haste of the day. The enhanced speed granted by the enchantment settled in almost immediately, and would allow him to contribute his remaining spells quickly to the common cause.
Benzan, on the other hand, contributed with a long arrow that he drew and fired in a quick motion. The shot was true, striking the creature’s long neck, but it glanced off scales that were tougher than the strongest armor forged by human hands.
Then the dragon breathed a cone of gas upon them.
The effects of the gas were instantly evident, as the caustic substance burned at their exposed skin and ate away their flesh in huge sickening gobs. The quaggoths roared in pain as the gas mercilessly sizzled away fur in long swathes, while Lok and Dana each found their own protections—armor and speed, respectively—of no avail against the blasting force of the dragon’s breath.
Cal, enhanced by his magical speed, fared far better, and somehow Benzan was able to dive out of the area of effect, coming up into a smooth crouch with another arrow fitted to his bow.
Then, abruptly, he changed his mind and sprinted toward the dragon’s flank, his sword and shield replacing his discarded bow as he ran.
Four mangled forms staggered forward out of the haze as the thick cloud of dragon’s breath began to clear. Lok, who had withstood the full force of the blast through the sheer force of his inhuman fortitude, raised his axe and charged right into the claws of the beast. Its thick hide resisted his assault, but even so the doughty genasi was able to cut a thin gash into the dragon’s chest with his magically enhanced axe.
Draxaranthilus didn’t like that one bit.
It liked it even less when the two quaggoths reoriented themselves and charged as a pair into the dragon’s flank, smashing at its torso with mace and axe. Rakkath’s first blow glanced harmlessly off an armored shoulder, but the way that the dragon jerked back showed that the mighty slam from Taktak’s mace had stung.
Dana, meanwhile, emerged from the blast looking as though she’d been dipped in acid. Long bloody trails ran down her arms and legs, from places where the flesh had been eaten away. Her clothes had been similarly ravaged, and the once-fine magical cloak that had seen her through so many journeys now hung in useless tatters from her shoulders. She nearly fell as she staggered to the side, but caught herself as her head lifted and she fixed her eyes—surrounded now by scored flesh—on their enemy.
Her mouth twisted into a snarl, and she raised her spear.
“Dana, no!” Cal yelled, recognizing how dire the woman’s wounds were. Benzan turned as well, and tried to yell something as well, something lost in the tumult of melee as the young woman charged into the raging battle.
Her attack was earnest, but unfortunately to naught as the gleaming spearhead glanced harmlessly off the dragon’s armored chest.
The dragon had not been idle as its adversaries swarmed on it. It was not old as far as dragons went, still only a young adult among its kind, but even so it had lived lifetimes in the reckoning of the younger, humanoid races. It fought with skill born of countless confrontations, lashing out at those that had dared to enter its realm.
Draxaranthilus recognized, of course, the nature of the gnome wizard who’d remained in the back of the group, and who had just hasted himself. The dragon trusted to its inherent resistances to protect itself from any magical attacks, however, since it couldn’t easily get to him anyway. Instead he focused on the more dangerous of his current adversaries, lashing out at the armored genasi and the two quaggoth.
The long neck darted down and caught Taktak on the shoulder, the dragon’s powerful jaws tearing into the quaggoth’s muscled torso. The quaggoth barbarian roared and tore free, trailing hot splatters of fresh blood from the gaping wound. The dragon followed the attack with tearing claws that slashed further wounds into the creature.
The grievous wounds, combined with the effects of the dragon’s breath, should have dropped any adversary. Somehow the quaggoth remained standing, however, and somehow even managed to bring his mace up in an underhanded arc that caught the dragon squarely under its jaw.
The other combatants used the dragon’s momentary focus on Taktak to press their attacks, even as the dragon continued to lash out at them. It continued to beat its wings in a fierce accompaniment to its attacks, distracting its foes as well as hitting with considerable force. Benzan, meanwhile, had to dodge a sudden slash of its long tail as he got into position on the opposite flank of the creature, and was unable to avoid a sharp stinging blow to his thigh that burned with pain even through his magical armor.
The dragon seemed invincible, shrugging off even those few attacks that made it through its incredible defenses. Lok scored another hit, this time cutting deep enough into the dragon’s shoulder to release a jet of hot blood. Rakkath and Dana kept at it with their own attacks, while on the far side of the beast Benzan thrust into it with his longsword. The bronze blade bit deep, and the dragon hissed in pain as it drew back its bloody jaws.
Cal, meanwhile, had not been idle. Realizing that the creature would not likely be fooled by his illusions, he focused on his other supporting magics. Bolstered by his haste he first conjured a magical shield in front of him, then moved forward until he could touch Dana, protecting her with displacement.
The dragon, meanwhile, had not missed the reactions of the others to the injuries suffered by the woman. With a sudden twist of its body, Draxaranthilus shot its head out like a whip, not at all fooled by the concealing power of Cal’s spell as its jaws snapped suddenly on Dana’s face.
“No!” Benzan screamed, too late.
Had those jaws locked, Dana would have died in that instant. But she managed to dodge back just enough so that the dragon’s head only caught her a glancing blow. Even that was enough to knock her roughly back, and she fell in a jumbled heap hard on the stone floor, just a few feet from where Cal stood, a look of horror growing on his face.
The dragon’s attack cost it in the form of retaliation—although the attacks it took seemed pitiful in the face of the damage it was dishing out. Lok continued to whittle away at its chest, and while he was having an effect it seemed by the shallowness of the cuts that his trusty axe had suddenly gone dull. Rakkath managed finally to draw blood with his axe, but that cut too was little more than a flesh wound. Taktak raised his mace for another blow, looking like a grim spectre of death with his terrible wounds, but before he could strike the dragon’s wing caught him solidly on the head, and he stumbled back, finally giving way to the full tally of his injuries.
Benzan took another lash from the dragon’s tail, but his own desperate stroke went wild. He tried to fight on, although the image of Dana going down screamed in his mind and filled his eyes even through the terrible reality of the dragon.
Then the dragon reared up, and breathed again.
* * * * *
Book V, Part 27
The dragon was a relatively small example of its kind, at least in comparison to the great wyrms that were so often encountered in stories and fables. Still, the sheer power of its presence filled the chamber and twisted the hearts of the companions, even reaching the otherwise ferocious courage of the quaggoths. All of those present were stalwart, however, and while lesser companions might have fled before the magnificent terror of the beast, these warriors swallowed their fear and leapt to the fray. The melee fighters—including Dana, now that her spells were exhausted—lifted their weapons and charged, but barely covered three paces before the dragon reared up and opened its massive jaws.
The dragon was fast, but Cal and Benzan were faster. Even as the warriors charged toward the ferocious beast, each acted with reflexes honed by hard-won experience. Cal summoned one of his most powerful spells, his second haste of the day. The enhanced speed granted by the enchantment settled in almost immediately, and would allow him to contribute his remaining spells quickly to the common cause.
Benzan, on the other hand, contributed with a long arrow that he drew and fired in a quick motion. The shot was true, striking the creature’s long neck, but it glanced off scales that were tougher than the strongest armor forged by human hands.
Then the dragon breathed a cone of gas upon them.
The effects of the gas were instantly evident, as the caustic substance burned at their exposed skin and ate away their flesh in huge sickening gobs. The quaggoths roared in pain as the gas mercilessly sizzled away fur in long swathes, while Lok and Dana each found their own protections—armor and speed, respectively—of no avail against the blasting force of the dragon’s breath.
Cal, enhanced by his magical speed, fared far better, and somehow Benzan was able to dive out of the area of effect, coming up into a smooth crouch with another arrow fitted to his bow.
Then, abruptly, he changed his mind and sprinted toward the dragon’s flank, his sword and shield replacing his discarded bow as he ran.
Four mangled forms staggered forward out of the haze as the thick cloud of dragon’s breath began to clear. Lok, who had withstood the full force of the blast through the sheer force of his inhuman fortitude, raised his axe and charged right into the claws of the beast. Its thick hide resisted his assault, but even so the doughty genasi was able to cut a thin gash into the dragon’s chest with his magically enhanced axe.
Draxaranthilus didn’t like that one bit.
It liked it even less when the two quaggoths reoriented themselves and charged as a pair into the dragon’s flank, smashing at its torso with mace and axe. Rakkath’s first blow glanced harmlessly off an armored shoulder, but the way that the dragon jerked back showed that the mighty slam from Taktak’s mace had stung.
Dana, meanwhile, emerged from the blast looking as though she’d been dipped in acid. Long bloody trails ran down her arms and legs, from places where the flesh had been eaten away. Her clothes had been similarly ravaged, and the once-fine magical cloak that had seen her through so many journeys now hung in useless tatters from her shoulders. She nearly fell as she staggered to the side, but caught herself as her head lifted and she fixed her eyes—surrounded now by scored flesh—on their enemy.
Her mouth twisted into a snarl, and she raised her spear.
“Dana, no!” Cal yelled, recognizing how dire the woman’s wounds were. Benzan turned as well, and tried to yell something as well, something lost in the tumult of melee as the young woman charged into the raging battle.
Her attack was earnest, but unfortunately to naught as the gleaming spearhead glanced harmlessly off the dragon’s armored chest.
The dragon had not been idle as its adversaries swarmed on it. It was not old as far as dragons went, still only a young adult among its kind, but even so it had lived lifetimes in the reckoning of the younger, humanoid races. It fought with skill born of countless confrontations, lashing out at those that had dared to enter its realm.
Draxaranthilus recognized, of course, the nature of the gnome wizard who’d remained in the back of the group, and who had just hasted himself. The dragon trusted to its inherent resistances to protect itself from any magical attacks, however, since it couldn’t easily get to him anyway. Instead he focused on the more dangerous of his current adversaries, lashing out at the armored genasi and the two quaggoth.
The long neck darted down and caught Taktak on the shoulder, the dragon’s powerful jaws tearing into the quaggoth’s muscled torso. The quaggoth barbarian roared and tore free, trailing hot splatters of fresh blood from the gaping wound. The dragon followed the attack with tearing claws that slashed further wounds into the creature.
The grievous wounds, combined with the effects of the dragon’s breath, should have dropped any adversary. Somehow the quaggoth remained standing, however, and somehow even managed to bring his mace up in an underhanded arc that caught the dragon squarely under its jaw.
The other combatants used the dragon’s momentary focus on Taktak to press their attacks, even as the dragon continued to lash out at them. It continued to beat its wings in a fierce accompaniment to its attacks, distracting its foes as well as hitting with considerable force. Benzan, meanwhile, had to dodge a sudden slash of its long tail as he got into position on the opposite flank of the creature, and was unable to avoid a sharp stinging blow to his thigh that burned with pain even through his magical armor.
The dragon seemed invincible, shrugging off even those few attacks that made it through its incredible defenses. Lok scored another hit, this time cutting deep enough into the dragon’s shoulder to release a jet of hot blood. Rakkath and Dana kept at it with their own attacks, while on the far side of the beast Benzan thrust into it with his longsword. The bronze blade bit deep, and the dragon hissed in pain as it drew back its bloody jaws.
Cal, meanwhile, had not been idle. Realizing that the creature would not likely be fooled by his illusions, he focused on his other supporting magics. Bolstered by his haste he first conjured a magical shield in front of him, then moved forward until he could touch Dana, protecting her with displacement.
The dragon, meanwhile, had not missed the reactions of the others to the injuries suffered by the woman. With a sudden twist of its body, Draxaranthilus shot its head out like a whip, not at all fooled by the concealing power of Cal’s spell as its jaws snapped suddenly on Dana’s face.
“No!” Benzan screamed, too late.
Had those jaws locked, Dana would have died in that instant. But she managed to dodge back just enough so that the dragon’s head only caught her a glancing blow. Even that was enough to knock her roughly back, and she fell in a jumbled heap hard on the stone floor, just a few feet from where Cal stood, a look of horror growing on his face.
The dragon’s attack cost it in the form of retaliation—although the attacks it took seemed pitiful in the face of the damage it was dishing out. Lok continued to whittle away at its chest, and while he was having an effect it seemed by the shallowness of the cuts that his trusty axe had suddenly gone dull. Rakkath managed finally to draw blood with his axe, but that cut too was little more than a flesh wound. Taktak raised his mace for another blow, looking like a grim spectre of death with his terrible wounds, but before he could strike the dragon’s wing caught him solidly on the head, and he stumbled back, finally giving way to the full tally of his injuries.
Benzan took another lash from the dragon’s tail, but his own desperate stroke went wild. He tried to fight on, although the image of Dana going down screamed in his mind and filled his eyes even through the terrible reality of the dragon.
Then the dragon reared up, and breathed again.
). Also, as Maldur noted, the complete saga through book IV are available as a single huge PDF download (nearly a meg, now) from the Hosted Story Hours page that Morrus runs. 
