Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Tehril 06-11-04, 08:45 PM	Since this is the name of the game we all have come to love to play, what say we share our experiences? Ever played a truly daunting dungeon? Daresay, have you fought a dragon? Let's hear about it! Tell us about your most deadly battles... fought deep in dungeons long forgotton, with creatures no sane man would ever draw blade against! Here's mine... a short story I wrote that closely follows the battle my adventure group fought with a green dragon. We are still in the dungeon/mine complex that this battle took place in. The poor druid kept urging us to rest, but headless of his warnings we forged on. Imagine being jumped by a dragon with almost no spells, injured warriors and altogether a tired group of players... all the while trapped deep within enemy territory... trying not to be found... :D Tale 0001 - Varthis The Terrible To the old, time is a fast moving commodity... ever spiraling towards an inevitable end. To the young, time is something that passes inexorably slowly... forever stretching out before them. Yet, to the nearly immortal dragons, the passage of time is barely noticed. A day is to a year as a ten-year is to a century. The memory and experience of a single wyrm extends over a score or more generations of the lesser mortals, such as Man. The First Children, they styled themselves... Masters of the Realms and all that made it's home under the blue skies of Azun. Since the first thought sparked into existence, the Dragons have been there... ancient and terrible, all at once. Their knowledge nearly complete throughout the ages, this is all but forgot once in their majestic presence. It is their massive size and prowess upon the field of blood that command them the fear they richly deserve. All creatures do well to demure, defer or simply avoid these great kings of old... Or at least, that's how Varthis the Terrible saw things. While still quite young in dragon years, he had seen many a man come and go in his age... and had eaten more than his fair share of them. He had even managed to start amassing a nice little hoard in the process... yet he was yearning for more. It had been too long since he last feasted on the flesh of the lesser folk, animals never did fully satisfy him. It wasn't the taste so much... but the hunt that thrilled Varthis like nothing else. He could sense when his prey knew he was about, could taste their fear. It was intoxicating to him. He licked his lips as he thought about it... Yes, the best part was seeing their fear turn to despair as they realized they were already dead... seeing their hope shattered in his wake... it made their meat all the more delicious. The vile wyrm's eyes glinted in the shadows of his lair, his excitement building as he dreamed of dark deeds best left unspoken. It was during this daydreaming that a new smell wafted on the stale cave breeze, awakening him from his reverie. So different... something he had not smelled in... Fresh meat. Yes, that was the smell... there was no mistaking it. Venomous bile dripped from his great jaws as Varthis licked his lips in anticipation. Laying his head down for a short nap, Varthis smiled gleefully. He would hear them before long... and then his gullet would be full of tasty mortal flesh. All he had to do was wait for them to come to him. After all, Varthis thought, why waste energy? It was only right that dinner should present itself in good time. He did not have to wait long. Echoing off the walls and reverberating in the stale air of the passageways was the clear sounds of arguing voices. They were close. Very close. *** The shadows engulfed him as he tiptoed further down the passageway. Carefully sidestepping rubble and treacherously loose rocks, Vicar sniffed the air with disdain... only a dwarf would call such an abominable place home. "Let them keep it", he thought, "I will have the rest of the world instead." Out of the corner of his eye, sudden movement snatched his attention away from his thoughts. Setting down his lantern to better gauge his quarry, Vicars eyes widened and his jaw dropped for but an instant before his body sprang into action... In the blink of an eye, he turned and fled down the passage way as if the very horsemen of Hel pursued him... and perhaps they did. As he breached the exit, he came upon his fellows in wait. "FLEE FOOLS!!!!" Vicar had barely enough breath to scream this one warning before a scaled wing sent him hurtling to the ground. Rolling with the blow, the wily elf jumped to his feet a split second later, barely registering the blood pouring down his arm. Panting heavily, the battered scout pointed to the now occupied passage entrance and uttered the painfully obvious "Something dark and sinister this way comes!" *** One had seen him and had warned his fellows, though it would avail them not, the vile wyrm mused. Gliding down the small passage with an ease and speed that belied his size, Varthis made his way towards his prey with great purpose. Not too quickly, nor too slowly... he wished to savor their fear. He knew them to be unprepared... he had overheard them arguing about making camp. They were beaten and battered, fresh from other battles and devoid of magic. In short, they would be virtually unable to put up a fight... almost unfit for him to even deal with. In other words, they were just how Varthis liked them. Their depleted state would mean less chance of injury to him... and it would increase the terror they experienced... and that pleased the vile wyrm. As he reached the entrance to the cave, Varthis pulled up short and spread his wings... neatly knocking the pathetic elfling away from interrupting his grand entrance. No one likes to be upstaged... especially a dragon. "I am Varthis and you will die, fresh morsals!!!" The mighty green wyrm bellowed as he leered over the cowering and startled group. With a brilliant blur of emerald and the blasting of noxious fumes, the dragon Varthis set upon the foolish adventurers. With a great gnashing of teeth and rending of claws, he swooped down upon their confused ranks, dispersing them utterly. As panic set in, a lone member regained his composure and pulled up in challenge to the wyrm. Striding forth with determination and grit, the bold dwarf unleashed his mighty war hammer and called down the accursed beast, challenging him to battle. A malefic grin then came to the wyrms face and his rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth made clear his amusement. Quick as lightning, he fell upon the lone dwarf and dealt blow upon blow to him that would have rent asunder a lesser foe. Ever defiant, the short stubby one hefted his hammer and struck true, sending writhing pain throughout Varthis's body. They tangled briefly before the vile beast encircled the dwarf and held him immobile. By now the others had recovered somewhat and were pressing the attack... but they mattered little. Their blows of yet had been no more than rain drops to an ocean, but Varthis wished to dine upon this morsel in peace. He would deal with this rabble latter. Holding the still cursing dwarf tightly in his grasp, the wyrm reared up and sprang into the air, intent on retreating to his lair. Yet, as he turned to make his leave, his struggling captive managed to drag him down to the ground, his great weight more than the dragon had anticipated. "Curse these ale drinking dwarves" Vathis muttered, "solid as the rocks they mine and just as heavy." Caught out of position briefly and far too close to the ground, Varthis was narrowly distracted by stinging arrows as two more of the warriors closed in on him and reigned deadly blows upon him. Howling in pain, he lashed out time and time again, only to find that his lonesome captive weighed him down each and every time... preventing him from dealing with his annoying comrades. Suddenly, a great ape creature appeared out of nowhere and fell upon the now injured Varthis, momentarily stunning his faculties. Confused, angered and hurting, the evil dragon spun about and threw himself into the air towards the passageway that led to his lair. The tide was turned and the great wyrm fled, though those that so recently were prey showed no intent to quit the battle. Truly, they pressed ever forward with great fervor. Fleeing further down the passage to his lair, Varthis became enraged by the turn of events. How dare these foolish mortals come to his home and challenge him! Anger swelled in his ancient blood and fury guided his actions where reason may have stayed his hand and let him live. Whipping around, he unleashed his deadly breath once more upon his pursuers, dropping half their number instantly. Rising up to his full height once more, he roared in defiance and prepared to knock down those who had survived. But it was not to be... out of the fast dissipating toxic mist they came, furious and fast, like wraiths descending upon the enfeebled living. Revenge was upon their lips and blood lust fueled their blows... they fell upon Varthis like a pack of wolves, a frenzied and vicious assault born out of desperation. And so it was that Varthis The Terrible came to be known as Varthis The Vain... and he came to his final end that day, in the unending tunnels of the ancient dwarven mines of Kazharidun. And now the story passes to you, to tell and retell. Let the mortal born know that they hold place in this world... that not all who would lord over them are impervious to even the mundane. Learn this lesson well.
Seeker95 06-11-04, 10:45 PM	Nice story. :D
Tehril 06-11-04, 10:56 PM	Thanks :D SO... where's YOUR story of your PC's encounters of a scaly kind? I'm hoping to get a full thread of Dungeon and Dragon tales... story format is preferred, but point form notes...as long as they are recounted with baited breath... will be accepted!