by Drew Hayes
Thistle felt his stomach churn, and all around him, other adventurers grew tense. Dragons were not easily trifled with, as they were massive creatures of scale and claw that also commanded considerable magic. If that weren’t enough, they were smart, prideful, and legendary for holding a grudge. Unless one had tremendous power, it was considered wise to deal with dragons as rarely and respectfully as possible.
“Until recently, the head of this nest, Rathgan the Fierce, held a treaty with Alcatham’s ruling council. In exchange for tribute, he and his brood left the kingdom untouched, allowed travelers to pass through his domain, and would even lend aid to Alcatham, in exchange for a fair price. However, in recent months, Rathgan has grown either bold or greedy. He and his ilk have begun attacking the outer settlements, as well as caravans traveling to the city. They have taken many taxes and items meant for the kingdom, which is why it has been deemed necessary to handle them.”
With every word out of Thurm’s mouth, Thistle liked the situation less and less. Alcatham wanted them to go after a nest of dragons? No wonder they’d framed it as a Grand Quest. Only a large group of powerful adventurers had even the slightest hope of accomplishing such a feat. From the side of his eyes, Thistle looked at Grumph, who was staring back at him. It would be a shame to come so far and flee, but as things stood, there was no sense in pressing on. Even if the artifact offered was a piece of the Bridge, it would obviously go to whatever party took off Rathgan’s head, and there was no chance of it being their group.
“Some of you will be wondering about the riches, items, and curious artifact listed as rewards for the Grand Quest,” Thurm continued. Clearly, whoever had written his words knew how to cut to the heart of an adventurer. “Those items are, in fact, only what Alcatham’s council knows for certain to have been stolen by the dragons. They lie somewhere in the nest, along with however much treasure the dragons have hoarded away over the centuries. Take whatever you like, with the thanks of the kingdom. However, know that the dragons will not part with their goods willingly. To earn the most splendid rewards, you will have to cut your way through Rathgan’s nest, and eventually face the great red dragon himself.”
Thistle tipped his mental cap to whoever had built this system. If they’d simply offered a reward for Rathgan’s head, then many of the groups would have immediately bowed out. Foolhardy as they were, any adventurer capable of qualifying for the Grand Quest surely had some idea of their own limits. Only fools and the mighty would press on if it they could succeed solely by slaying a dragon. Tempting them with treasure, however, changed the dynamic. There were certainly smaller treasures to be found before one encountered Rathgan or the more powerful members of the nest. They could delude themselves, trick their caution by insisting that they’d only go in as far as they could handle, and then flee. Perhaps the more cunning were even thinking of ways to find the most valuable wares without engaging a dragon at all.
Thurm was getting a little hoarse from all the talking, and he coughed into the hand not holding out the scroll. “For any concerned about your mounts, since they obviously can’t make it up a mountain, we’ve contracted local mercenaries to collect and herd them back to town for those willing to pay the fee. Of course, you’re welcome to simply leave your rides to fend for themselves, if you so choose.”
The adventurers muttered at this; however, Thurm continued without pause, clearly eager to be done with his spiel. “Now, should any of you decide that this quest is not for you, simply whisper the word ‘Return’ three times. The coins in your possession have been bound to your party as registered when you accomplished the quest that earned you a place here, or when you brought in new recruits to bolster your ranks. However, you must be close together for the magic to work. Near enough to touch is adequate. After you request to be freed, you and the party members near you will all be returned to the capital, and the coin will melt away. However, as dragons have magic as well, their mountain is warded to stop such spells. You must be off the mountain before you can use the coins to return. Aside from that, it will work once, at any time, to bring you back to Camnarael. Once you leave, there is no returning, so be certain you’ve truly taken all you wish before you abandon the treasure to the others.”
Adding a sense of competition atop the kindled fire of greed: someone had thought this out carefully. Clearly, the kingdom wanted to send a message, both to the dragons they dealt with and to anyone who saw Rathgan’s betrayal as weakness on the part of Alcatham. They wanted to wipe out the entire nest of dragons, and while there was certainly no guarantee of success, this many adventurers could make a good go of it. At the very least, they would show that Alcatham wasn’t to be trifled with.
“The kingdom urges you to keep in mind that dragons are wily, and they guard their homes well. Aside from the monsters roaming these dead lands, be wary of traps, magical and mundane, that might slow your progress. How and when you proceed from here is entirely up to you. So long as the treasures are pillaged and the dragons slain, we have no care for the methods employed. Skulk about, cast spells from the heavens, charge in with sword drawn, whatever you must do to accomplish the goals. Just remember: the pride of Alcatham and untold treasures both await you on that mountain.”
Thurm slowly lowered the scroll, rerolling it tightly, as if it was a borrowed tool he would have to return. “That’s all it says,” he added. “I think you’re all free to get started. The Grand Quest has begun.”
It wasn’t the most rousing of calls to action, but it did the trick. All around him, Thistle saw different groups of adventurers breaking off. Some rode right for the mountain, while others sought solitude in order to talk and plan. A few—far fewer than Thistle would have expected—took out their coins, whispered, and vanished.
Thistle motioned for everyone to draw close and follow him. Wordlessly, they fell into formation—Eric and Timuscor at the fore, Grumph and Gabrielle in the rear, and Thistle riding between to guide them along. He aimed the group slightly toward the mountain—where bursts of fire still stabbed into the sky—but off to the side. While he wasn’t set on running away just yet, it went without saying that they needed to discuss what lay ahead.
Beyond this patch of grass, they’d be gambling their lives on every step. And while it wasn’t a wager Thistle refused to make, he certainly wasn’t going to do so without some sort of plan.
* * *
“We’re raiding a dragon nest?” Cheri’s drink had frozen halfway to her mouth, stopped in the same place it had been while Russell read out the module’s dialogue using a poorly-mimicked dwarven voice.
He couldn’t blame her for being surprised. When the game started and he’d finally been able to break open the seal to see what came next, Russell had nearly fallen out of his chair. Even with a month in-game of almost nothing but questing for loot and bettering their gear, the party was in no shape to fight a real dragon, let alone one that was in charge of an entire nest. It was only as he’d flipped through the different routes possible, covering every possible way a party could progress and unearthing enough detail that Russell thought they could wing it if they had a unique solution, that he realized there was more to the task than it seemed at the outset. Yes, they were trying to steal from dragons, but there were certainly more ways to go about it than simply charging in with swords drawn.
“Wimberly would like to vote quickly and emphatically that we use the talisman to go home, be satisfied with the gold we’ve earned, and not look back,” Bert announced.
“Mountains... Gelthorn doesn’t love them, but they’re still wild and natural. Much better than the city,” Alexis said.
“Yeah, it would be a real nice group trip, except for the fact that fucking dragons live there.” Cheri punctuated the point by finally taking the swig from her drink.
Tim scanned the notes he’d hastily scratched out while Russell was talking. “Dragons are at the actual mountain. We have to cross monster-inhabited lands to make it there first.”
&nbs
p; “Oh, well then, sign Chalara up. She’s always hoped to die in some beast’s gut. It was in her dream journal as a kid.”
“Wimberly and Chalara are one hundred percent on the same page,” Bert said. “This was worth checking out, but we have to recognize our limits. We’re still a pretty low-level party. Maybe, and that’s a big maybe, we can take a smaller dragon, something around a hatchling’s age. Anything stronger than that, and we’re screwed. Retreat is the better part of valor.”
“Just not one that I think we can use. Or, I mean, that I can use.” Tim was still staring at his notes, recalling the situation as it had been explained. “Russell, the dwarf said that these dragons weren’t just attacking traders and merchants, but also outlying villages, right?”
While he could have made Tim roll to remember precisely, Russell decided to just give it to him in the interests of keeping the game flowing. Besides, he already knew where this was heading. “That’s what the dwarf told you.”
Tim let out a long, weary sigh that seemed a little too heavy for him yet fit all the same. It was the sort of sound a paladin would make, one who had seen too many close calls yet had accepted that the duty he’d chosen would draw him into these situations time and time again. “Then Timanuel can’t run. Even if he can only do a small bit, he has to try and help. Otherwise, innocent villagers will keep getting hurt. Whether it’s slaying the dragons or reinstituting the peace, as a paladin, he’s obligated to protect those people however he can.”
“Some days, Tim, I really wish you’d just rolled up a knight,” Bert told him.
“I don’t blame you for that,” Tim replied. “But there’s no point in playing a paladin if I’m not going to let him act like one.”
Bert seemed to almost loom in the corner, his wide shoulders and tall frame hunched over his character sheet as he carefully assessed every trick in Wimberly’s restocked arsenal.
“Well,” he said at last, “since Timanuel can’t run, and we know our characters wouldn’t leave him, let’s talk strategy. We might have to at least try this quest, but there’s nothing in the paladin code that says we can’t be smart about it.”
* * *
“Dragons? They have so much gold.” Terry looked like he might actually fall out of his chair, he was leaning so far forward. Jamie met his enthusiasm with the usual unfailing smile, her book open to the freshly unsealed section and displayed directly in front of her.
“They also have claws, wings, fire, magic, and that’s not even accounting for the fact that we’ll be breaking into their lair, which is almost certainly warded and trapped,” Mitch said. “No wonder they had to make a big hoopla out of this. If they’d just put ‘infiltrate a dragon nest’ out as a regular quest, nobody would have taken it.”
“Yeah, but she made it sound like there are a ton of other adventurers also doing it, right?” Glenn asked.
Mitch nodded. Jaimie had kept the description brief but had definitely touched upon how many NPCs were around them. It was a weird setup, a little too like the game they’d played with Russell where things turned... strange. Once she’d gotten to the part of telling them what they were actually doing, though, it clicked. The NPCs were there as fodder so the party could infiltrate a dragon nest without having to fight every single dragon. Not a bad idea, really. It offered weaker characters the chance to have an epic experience without instantly dying or dealing with the tedium of endless battle.
“If every other ‘adventurer’ is supposed to have earned their way into this quest, then they probably have the corresponding gear for it,” Glenn explained. “So maybe we don’t have to actually fight any dragons. Maybe we just hang to the back, sneak around, find any NPCs or dragons on their last leg then finish them off and take whatever they’ve got.”
“Glenn, with ideas like that, you might have to roll a rogue next time,” Mitch said.
“Fuck that. Wizard is where it’s at. Raining hellfire and destruction on my enemies with only a few words,” Glenn replied.
“Well, get the hellfire ready.” Mitch rolled his die across the table without prompting. “That’s an eighteen for my Sneak check, Jaimie. Mitnan is going to motion to the others, and then slink off out of sight. We’ll find a good place to hide, and then start trailing a party once the herd thins out.”
If luck was with them, Mitnan and his crew might be able to get quite a haul before they had to use the talisman to get out of danger. That was the thing about a module using all these NPCs; they might create a cool atmosphere, but at the end of the day, they were just walking sacks of loot waiting to be claimed.
Chapter 41
“It almost goes without saying, but a frontal assault is out,” Thistle told them. The party had found a patch of bushes far enough away from everyone else to speak comfortably but that still allowed them to keep an eye out in case something happened. “Dragons are vengeful, powerful creatures, and even their young would be a hard fight for us. If we decide to do this, then our only option is to try and sneak our way through.”
“Which is also impossible, because dragons love traps.” Grumph had his arms crossed, his newly-crafted staff held in the crook of an elbow. Sitting atop of it was a dark canvas sack, hiding whatever accoutrement Grumph had added to the new tool. “We should turn back. The Bridge may not even be there.”
“Except that if it is, it’s currently in either the claws of a dragon who is about to have cause to go to war with an entire kingdom, or will end up in the hands of an adventurer with no idea what they’re actually obtaining,” Eric pointed out. “We don’t want another Aldron letting demons through, or worse, creating some other side effect we haven’t yet seen.”
“Aye, Eric is right. The risk is too great, and even if we take the Bridge piece out of it, I fear that, as a paladin, this situation demands at least some participation from me.” Thistle fidgeted with his armor. It was a small set that fit his gnarled bones perfectly, yet he’d refused to talk much about where he got it. The style was quite old, but presumably he’d had to get it on the cheap, so such things were to be expected. “Dragons are not known for using minions, which means there’s little chance of any secret passageways or entrances on their mountain—at least, not that I’ll be easily able to find. And while Eric has no doubt become far more skilled with traps, that won’t help us get past the wards.”
“For that, we need a mage more skilled than I.” Grumph’s eyes drifted downward as he spoke; he was almost certainly wishing he had the knowledge necessary to aid his friends.
Gabrielle’s hand moved, unbidden, toward the handle of her axe. “Actually, I think I might be able to get us past any magical barriers. I’m still in the dark about a lot of how this weapon works, but the one thing I did learn in Camnarael was that it has some sort of dispelling aspect. That’s why I’ve been able to cut through magical shields and constructs. No reason it wouldn’t get us through any dragon wards as well.”
“There are many reasons why it wouldn’t, not the least of which being that the more powerful enchantments you broke through left you injured,” Thistle reminded her. “Although I’m sure you weren’t planning on bringing it up, am I right to assume that using such power takes a physical toll on the wielder?”
She’d really been hoping no one would pick up on that; it was why Gabrielle had kept that tidbit of information a secret until this point. From the looks in everyone’s eyes, however, it was clear that they knew Thistle had struck the truth. Since there was nothing to be gained through denial, Gabrielle decided to simply counterattack instead.
“It does, though exactly how much is still something I haven’t figured out yet. But that’s why we have healing potions, isn’t it? So we can take the damage necessary and keep pressing on. Between those and your magic, I don’t imagine there are any wards we couldn’t make our way past.”
“Neither Thistle’s magic nor any potion can bring back the dead.” Timuscor had been silent as the plans were discussed, standing to the side with Mr. Peppe
rs, who’d been outfitted with a small set of armor that matched Timuscor’s new plate mail. Now, his head was raised and his eyes were locked on Gabrielle. “The axe might take more than you can give without warning. Passing one ward in exchange for your life is a poor bargain by any measure.”
“Forgive me if I’m a little hesitant to take advice favoring caution from someone who perpetually puts himself in harm’s way,” Gabrielle shot back. “Look, right now, we’re all set on going forward, right?”
Slowly, almost begrudgingly, the others nodded their heads.
“Then all of this is just speculation. We know we aren’t going to try and fight dragons—that would be beyond even our usual degree of crazy. So the only way we’ll make progress is to try and sneak our way up that mountain. If we hit traps, Eric will deal with them. If we hit magic, then we’ll discuss the best option at the time. For now, we know we have the option of my axe. Whether we use it or not is something we can decide in the moment.”
It was a stalling tactic. She knew it, they almost certainly knew it, but that didn’t change the fact that Gabrielle was right. All the bickering in the world wouldn’t change the simple truth that they didn’t have a clue what they’d be facing on that mountain. And while it was easy for them to object to a theoretical situation where she would have to trade her health for the power to cut through magic, when a moment of need arrived, they might be much more agreeable to the idea. Even if they weren’t, Gabrielle would use her weapon anyway. There was only so much she could do for her friends; she wasn’t going to let something as paltry as getting wounded close off one of her few abilities.
“I suppose you’re right,” Thistle said, although his tone made it clear that he wasn’t happy about admitting that. “We needn’t worry about a potential problem until we see what we’ll be facing. For now, we press on and deal with each challenge as it arrives. But we do so as a team, with no one taking dangerous actions on their own.”