If this is the “little dragon” the goblins spoke of….what is a big dragon?
Returning to his lair after a few days of exploring the mountains the white dragon Franerrorth, known in some circles as The Lord of Ice, was looking forward to the meal left for him by his followers. As he passed over the frozen castle he saw a group of figures in his treasure room. These were not dragon men bringing him food or plundered treasure. At this height these looked to be humans and they were ransacking his treasure!
Fanerrorth made a second pass high above the citadel and then dove down to his frozen lair. It had been decades since he had feasted on man flesh. Oh how he hoped there was an elf among them. The only better flesh than man was that of an elf! He slowly descended and prepared to show these interlopers why he was known as the Lord of Ice.
Meanwhile……
The party had broken one chest from its block of ice. They then turned to the second block. They were so busy that they missed the sound of the dragon alighting behind them on the wall. They however didn’t miss the sound of a deep inhalation of air.
“DRAGON!” someone yelled but it was too late. The beast had unleashed his icy breath weapon. The monk’s preternatural dexterity offered him some protection from the blast. The winter wolf cloak the barbarian had made did the same. However, the bard and rouge were caught directly in the blast. The rouge managed to crawl to safety behind a block of ice. The bard was not as lucky. His body lay still and covered in a thick sheet of ice on the ground. The archeologist had also taken refuge behind the ice blocks and missed the majority of the breath weapon. He ran out and drug the bard back behind the ice. Roaring the dragon dropped down from the wall to assault the monk and barbarian.
The rouge took a minute to chortle down a healing potion he had stashed away and then did his best to sneak up on the dragon. Little did he know the beast saw him and was prepared. As the rouge made his way to the dragon’s flank he drew weapons and prepared to strike. It was then that the dragon lashed out with his tail striking the rouge and knocking him back a good fifteen feet. It appeared stealth would not work against the wyrm.
The bard was revived and also quaffed a healing potion he had procured. He rose and began to bolster the warriors with song and verse.
The archeologist stayed behind cover and cast the only offensive magic he knew. A trio of green bolts of energy struck the dragon, but if it did any real damage he could not tell.
The barbarian and monk kept up their frontal assault on the dragon. They did their best to dodge claw and fang. They knew they had a limited amount of time before the wyrm could and would bring it’s icy death breath to bear once again. The barbarian had worked himself into a frothing rage and rained blow after blow at the beast. The monk in his typical stoic manner, kept up his assault of magic infused punches. His jutsu was strong, but would it be enough to drop the beast?
The dragon’s assault forced the bard to utilize his only healing magic. The archeologist ran forward to cast his one healing spell as well. The dragon was slowly gaining the upper hand by slowly tearing the party to shreds. The rouge was slapped by the dragon’s tail yet again, but managed to keep his footing. The monk was beginning to lose focus as his supernatural Ki powers were fading.
It was then that the dragon reared back and inhaled deeply. The party knew what was about to happen, but had no way to escape in time. They would be hit with another blast of freezing dragon breath. The barbarian knew he had but one chance and, with a cry to his orc god, he the leapt at the dragon’s throat swinging his sword in a wide arc. As the dragon’s head came forward to exhale, the barbarian’s sword cleaved right through the beast’s neck! The dragons’ head lolled to the side, his mouth still agape and then fell to the floor with a mighty thud. Franerrorth, The Lord of Ice, was no more.
(Sidebar - another natural 20 with the vorpal sword the 5th of the night for the barbarian!)
The party took a few moments to catch their breath and celebrate. They had survived by the skin of their teeth once again!
They had earned the frozen treasure!
A hour later and the party was headed back to deal with the Heir Stone. As they discussed options, the rouge took it upon himself to just leap up on the giant frozen pillar holding the stone. This triggered three of the runic circles and unleashed a cacophony of continuous high pitched wailing alarms. He then began to the task of trying to remove the giant gemstone. Well that was after the disabled the pressure plate trap I was resting upon.
As the rouge fumbled with the pillar and gemstone, the Western door to the banquet hall burst open! Six dragonborn guards rushed into the room. Behind them was not a typical dragon born. It appeared to be a white dragon in a large humanoid form and ½ plate armor.
(Sidebar- this was a half-dragon using a fighter template ) This must be the “little” dragon the goblins told the party about. He motioned to his followers and they rushed the party.
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| Like this guy but with white scales |
As the melee started the rouge tried to communicate his plans to remove the stone and toss it to the bard. Sadly, the bard had no idea what he was trying to saw. See the alarm was still blaring and nobody could hear anything else. Exasperated at the party, the rouge decided to lift the stone from the pillar. He had found a way to counter the pressure plate and figured it was safe. He gentle lifted the stone and then saw his colossal error. Several magical symbols flared to life!
A huge explosion rocked the room as the pillar and rouge crashed to the floor. The melee came to a halt for just a second as the dragonmen, their leader, the monk and barbarian all took stock of their situation. They noticed they were all unharmed from the explosion, so they began their melee anew.
The bard pulled the blackened and blasted rouge to his feet. He noticed that the Heir Stone was firmly in his grasp. Also the blaring alarm had stopped. However, the floor had begun to lightly shake loud cracking could be echoing through the hallways. Occasionally, a small chunk of ice or stone would fall from the ceiling.
The next sound heard was that of the archeologist as he yelled “RUN!”
It appeared the citadel was beginning to collapse in on itself.
The bard and archeologist ran down the hall widened by the giant. The monk finished off the last of the dragonborn and followed suit.
The barbarian and “little” dragon warrior continued to battle one another. However, as larger chunks of ceiling began to fall the “little” dragon turned to flee back toward the main gates. The barbarian rushed after him swinging wildly. He would not let his quarry escape! Seconds later as the dragonman leader dodged a chunk of ice the barbarian lunged ahead. His sword impaling the leader and last of the dragonmen in the citadel. The barbarian turned to sprint toward the exit his friends has taken.
Meanwhile….
The rouge stumbled down the hallway after the three other party members. He was still a bit shaken from the explosion and the fall. As he approached the hall exit several large chunks of stone fell from the ceiling burying him just a few feet from the door. Luckily, the barbabrian was rushing down the hall and had seen the ceiling collapse on the rouge. He stopped and began tossing rocks aside to reach his fallen friend. Chunks of ice and stone began to rain down upon him. The citadel was beginning to shake violently.
The barbarian saw the feet of the rouge and pulled him free of the rubble. He couldn’t tell if the rouge was breathing or not and didn’t have time to investigate. He tossed the body over his shoulder and sprinted out the hall as the walls and ceiling came crashing down behind him.
The party gathered just down the hill from the citadel. The archeologist was able to conjure a last bit of magic to stabilize the rouge. The fallen ceiling had knocked him unconscious and almost taken his life. The rest of the group stood and watched the Citadel of Thunderdelve Mountain collapse in upon itself.
Within minutes the destruction was complete. The sound of ice and rock crashing down had ended. They knew night would be upon them soon and most of them were in real shape to travel. They threw together a makeshift shelter and got a good nights rest. The next morning the party started their trip back down the mountain. Within three days they were back in Bronislav sharing their tales of adventure with Milosh, Svetlana, Rada and Dimitri over flagons of snowberry ale and fresh goat stew.
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