2am 30 Hammer: Let Sleeping Dragons Lie?
2am 30 Hammer: Let Sleeping Dragons Lie?
And as you look around, you can now pick the slumbering outlines of enormous Dragons curled up, like sleeping cats throughout the space. You see a white dragon in the southwest. An enormous black dragon in the northeast. Two red Dragons, one in the far northwest corner. Northwest, southwest, and you see two green dragonlings, a red wyrmling, and another medium sized black dragon. The heroes have stumbled into a dragon’s nest.
DonBrapp immediately disbelieves, and signals to the rest of the party. One dragon remains, and the cleric immediately invokes a spell of silence.
The dwarf removes the continual light gem from his armor and places it in his pouch.
There is a single exit door on the far side, but the entire cave is otherwise made of the magically infused stone.
Protecting the party with a silence spell, DonBrapp surveys the largely empty cavern. In the northeast corner, balled up like an enormous ancient housecat is a venerable ancient red worm sleeping curled on a pile of spidersilk rugs. Some rugged wood structures are nearby the great wyrm. It is clearly ancient and powerful, but also appears quite old and worn.
The great creature shifts in slumber, sending meager piles of coins shifting underneath. The bones of small carrion game litter the floor in front of the beast, and a disgusting slop trough nearly the size of a hut is off to the side. A series of oversized stone chests line the wall directly to the west of the dragon, but the entire area seems rather unkept and not organized in the way you'd expect of an actual dragon hoard. There is a fetid open pit of gray water to the northwest, and the area immediately in front of the dragon is littered with minor treasures and the fading trash of the svirfneblin city.
Quilro begins to move silently toward the center of the room as Draxos covers him with his bow.
Soon the rest of the party joins DonBrapp in recognizing the overarching illusion, only an ancient red dragon sleeping along the northern wall.
Draxos chirps at the toad-orc; Kailute simmers in rage trapped within his amphibian form.
DonBrapp and Quilro make energetic gesticulations; discussing in hand motions how to kill or parlay with the wyrm without making any noise...
The elf agrees to head to the south wall and investigate for an exit, but as he creeps across the dank floor the wyrm shifts like a cat.
As the elf searches the walls, he notices suddenly the Dragon remains utterly still, you also no longer hear the respiration of its breath, as if it had ceased.
Quilro pauses for a moment; as if against every effort he cannot move. Then just as quickly, it releases and the elf realizes he barely dodged the magical attack.
“What violence have you brought into my Chamber elf?” Screeches a ragged, reedy voice still able to project a powerful volume in elvish. Attempting to pull its broken form into an intimidation pose, the wyrm screeches “Are ye prey? Or amusement?”
“Hail, great worm. We seek parlay.” The dwarf says, turning to face the dragon directly.
Lifting its enormous head, the dragon opens one cloudy yellow eye. The left eye appears permanently damaged, and it is missing at least a quarter of its left wing.
“Unusual as it is for me to converse with the rock dwellers. Little choice have I in my declining years. But perhaps, share with me a thought or a story and I'll share with you what I might know about these excreble cousins of yours.”
“We are the heroes of Waymeet; The Champions of Hillsfar; The Ablutors of Borovia, and the Emancipators of Hillsfar Hall. And friend of Azurthurax. Emancipators of a barony of the undead and an infestation of demons amongst an enshrined Dwarven hall. We set things free.”
“Indeed, dwarf. It seems your role is beginning to lengthen. Perhaps those know of you, even below the mountains and above the skies.”
“Well, we try to keep a low profile.”
The whole cavern shakes with hoarse, rumbling laughter as snorts of flame burst from the wyrms nostrils, until culminating in an uncontrolled cough that almost scorches the party before the creature is able to collect itself.
“Perhaps the rulers of the underkin are long-lived, but not as long as the Dragons, and it amuses me that you think this recent interplay is as bold as you state, Melarkyn.
“Then it's true. I am the last scion of the Undermountain?”
“Your scent is known to dragons rousted, far and wide. Were I am a younger wyrm I would enjoy... …savoring the flesh from your bones. But as I think you see…” the ancient dragon shifts uncomfortably on arthritic joints “…those years are behind me now. Only these fetish death worshipping sycophants feed me meat so that I can keep illusions alive to entertain them and their chaotic gods it will all be over soon.”
“Well tell me great wyrm how can the heroes of Waymeet be of service to you? “
“Might you be able to end this underground nonsense it before they dip me into a pool and consign me to the negative material; What knowledge I have of the weave and the hills and the mountains will be crushed to unending, lifeless dust.”
“Our intention is to prevent that. In order to do this, we must traverse the temple. What know ye of the unholy blight?”
“I can tell you this. The temple has been destroyed. I've not seen any demons or keepers through for at least six days. You are the first to disturb me. There is a door to the South.” The wyrm lifts an arthritic claw and suddenly a portion of the stone to the south is illuminated by magical aura.
“What is your name, great wyrm?” The dwarf inquires, and as he does his mind is challenged by a bristling, almost insulting probing power.
“Since you have agreed to assist me, you may address as Dex.”
“We have also released Azurthurax from the clutches of cultists. Know ye of him?”
At the further mention of dragon cultists Dex begins to shake with frenzied anger, becoming loud and irate before the dwarf commands in a loud sonorous voice “RELAX.”
Slowly the great beast calms and curls back into a position of repose.
Quilro takes a moment to dart across the room to inspect a door, signaling for the party to follow quickly until he is immediately paralyzed.
“Leaving so soon?” The red dragon asks as the party begins to move away.
“Well, yeah, I mean. I assumed we had a deal.”
“Speak plainly, this deal, undertaken.”
Quirlo reiterates the agreement, which is memorialized on vellum parchment as a contract in the dwarf’s slashing script. The elves agree to ensure Dex is freed from the unholy temple and is able to expire among the mountain peaks, and if possible hunt once more.
The magically infused stone prevents teleportation, but magically altering the dragon is discussed as a means to free the wyrm.
In return Dex offers what information she has regarding the layout of the unholy temple and the dwarf presses for information about Zengyhi.
Dex speaks of Arctigris, a vain white dragon who guards the approaches to the wizard’s tower.
“Do you not know? Can you not sense? Where this energy is located? “ Dex screeches, listing many events that lead to the raising of an alien tower in the far northern tundra. Eventually accepting the blood oath of the elven prince, Dex indicates which tome should be referenced for a polymorph spell.
Quilro inspects the stone chests and notes there are indicator wire traps among the tomes; but nothing resulting in damage. The wyrm indicates a black leather tome and the elf recovers it to the dragon.
With a series of draconic incantations the dragon confers a magical force from its tome to outstretched claw and suddenly the toad on the floor reverts back to the enraged form of a half-orc barbarian. As soon as the trauma of polymorph washes over, Kailute lunges for one of the svirfneblin and pins him to a wall with his hand, while putting the shadowblade to the fey creature’s neck.
Kailute’s veins are bulging and he is wide eyed with anger.
“So, the ‘fast way’ out was a gauntlet of traps; followed by a long tunnel into the dungeons of those doomed to fight, gutter gnomes?! They led us to our death!” The exasperated half-orc shouts.
“Ok.. ok.. that’s a heavy accusation…” Quilro begins to mumble “Dwarf, do something…”
DonBrapp looks on in bemusement thinking it was Vergadain himself who opined against helping the gnomes. His reverie is broken by the horrified look of the other grey gnome watching his friend’s lifeblood being stolen by the vampiric blade.
DonBrapp steps toward the barbarian with a deliberate pace, but keeping his hands low and in front of him to show no ill intent.
The grey gnome with Kailute’s blade at his throat begins to moan with the last whimpers of his life.
Quilro shuffles forward with an elbow at the half-orc, attempting to break up the pinned gnomes hold.
Dex cackles at the party strife.
Easily shifting from the elf’s attempt the barbarian tosses the gnome aside and turns to the elf and dwarf.
“WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T WE JUST GET OUT!?” He rages, his mind filled with anger..
“…Just so you could collect some FUCKING TAPESTRIES?!” The half-orc storms, shaking with anger. “You’ve cost us more than any number of rugs can make up. We pay in blood the interest of your greed again, dwarf.” Kailute says, turning on his heel to take inventory of himself.
“You wanted those tapestries too.” DonBrapp replies flatly.
The dwarf steps forward with a mind to offer a magical restraint, which the barbarian’s relic prevent from taking place, but further infuriate the warrior.
“Gentlemen; relax. Please. We are almost out of here.” Quilro mediates.
The other grey gnome rushes forward to aid his comrade, and turns a disappointed look toward DonBrapp. His face a balance between muted fury but keeping a respectful distance lest he further invoke violent attention from the greenskin.
Kailute stumbles, and then nearly collapses after the energy of the anger departs.
“What clan does that son of gruumsh hail?” Dex asks from afar. “Many have their tribes served Dextharos; a Warborn? I recall their heralds.
DonBrapp steps forward to shield the half-orc while appearing non-threatening to the dragon.
Something magical overcomes the barbarian, and he is put at ease as the one good eye of the red dragon closes.
