Smoke On the Water:

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The Dragon turtle’s scale is beyond all reason. It’s scale shimmer and shift from one color to the next and it is able to turn it’s head at an impossible angle. We are introduced to Kiwi…who is voiced with an Australian accent.

Kiwi: Having a rough day of it are we?

Helio: To put it midly yes.

Kiwi: Thought you were all goners for a tick there, good thing I came along eh?

Mercutio: Very fortunate timing for us.

Kiwi: Well the knocking about and dragon’s roar woke me up and I figured I better go take a look. And now here we are.

Oasis: As grateful for the rescue as we are, chances are you just delaying the same outcome. We messed up big time and may have doomed the world in the process.

Kiwi: Ah no worries mates. The world is always doomed one way or another, all seems to work itself out in the end.

Little Mountain: You seem awfully calm.

Kiwi: I lived a good long time little fella. Takes an awful lot to upset my day. What exactly did you lot muck up though?

We explain the whole situation including the Valley of the Druid Cats, the Meteror Rock, the Dragon Kings, the prophecies of the Hidden Wyrms and the fact that we just handed the keys for forging adamantine to the dragons themselves. It is from Kiwi that we officially are clued into the word “adamantine”

Kiwi: That stuff is a devil to forge. The cat bloke was nearly spot on though. Only a true dragon’s fire is hot enough to work it proper.

Skarlax: Well aren’t you a dragon?

Kiwi: Like a catfish is a cat I suppose. Dragon’s used to mix it up with just about anything. Fertile lot they were so kind of odd that they died out. I am more turtle than dragon. But like I always said if you can’t find someone to do something properly, find someone that can do it anyway.

Helio: We don’t follow.

Kiwi: Dragon Fire would get that adamantine hot enough for any bloke to work, but that don’t mean someone else couldn’t work it without dragon fire. Kind of like how a bowl holds soup, but you can toss it in a mug and still drink it, might be messier and not ideal but the soup gets to the same spot in the end.

Oasis: And you know someone who can be our mug?

Kiwi: I don’t rightly know them. Not an inviting lot but I know where they are. I can take you along if you don’t mind, could use a good stretch after a long nap.

Mercutio: How long were you asleep?

The dragon turtle peers up to the stars and ***** his head…

Kiwi: Oh four or five hundred years give or take.

The massive turtle island moves smoothly and swifter than our ship. We are a few days into the journey when the shout of a several miles long turtle darn near scares us to death.

Kiwi: These cheeky bastards need to find someone else to nip at.

We scan the horizons and can’t find a single target or threat.

Mercutio: Who?

Kiwi: Sharks. They love to take a bit out of my flippers while I swim. Darn right rude and irritating. Don’t suppose you wouldn’t mind sending a message to them?

Skarlax: We can’t exactly swim down under there.

Kiwi: Oh right. Alright, hang on a tick, and I do mean hang on. Come to the far left side of my shell and grasp the edge.

The Turtle ROLLS onto it’s back which sends us clinging to the side of it’s shells hundreds of feet into the air terrified and damn near soiling ourselves. It executes the roll as smoothly and gently as possible but massive waves are sent crashing all around us. Now doing the backstroke we climb onto the turtle’s stomach and find a mass of ships tethered to his underside.

Kiwi: Bit of a hoarder mates, hate to let some of these go, but I think the one closest to the center has some underwater goodies. Help yourselves if it means getting these nibblers to nip off.

Inside the derelict ship we find a handful of water breathing potions and some harpoons made from actual metal *squeals of excitement*. We also find a wand of repair object with which we decide to repair one of the vessels for our own use.

Able to breathe water and now armed with harpoons we suddenly think we can all be Quint from Jaws. Little Mountain snaps us back to reality with a simple statement.

Little Mountain: Anyone know how to swim?

*blink blink*

Oasis: I can sink quite proficiently.

Helio: I think we all can.

As opposed to sinking or attempting to swim, we end up kind of fishing. We dangle a spelled up Oasis over the edge of the turtle with harpoon in hand and have him try to spear a shark and pull it surface where missile weapons and harpoons can pin it. That action fails spectacularly.

Our next attempt at being useful involves rigging a smaller rowboat to tie off on top of Kiwi while we board the smaller boat and get in the water being towed behind. This also fails miserably. The dragon turtle has fast healing, we can actually see the bites close as the flippers rise and fall, and none of the sharks are large enough to cause serious wounds but it certainly seems damn uncomfortable.

Skarlax: Hey Kiwi, can you glide with the flippers as close to the surface as possible.

Kiwi: Yeah I can manage that, but a stationary target is just going to get bit more.

Skarlax: Short term loss, long term gain. We are going to use your flipper as a surfboard and get these things off you.

That plan mostly works. We all board the massive flipper and begin to harpoon sharks and Claws laces them with arrows. We churn up a hell of a mess with dying sharks and we do our best to shove off and away from the turtle. We manage to trigger enough of a feeding frenzy to draw off the majority of the sharks and the few remaining ones look for easier meals. There is a stomach wrenching flip back to the normal position after freeing the most salvageable of boats and we set about using the wand to repair it as the turtle swims onward.

We smell our destination long before we see it. The stench of putrid smoke and sulfur are enough to make a billy goat puke. Massive trails of black ash and corrupted air trail from a location on the horizon.

Kiwi: Alright fellas, this is where I have to let you off. The water shallows out and there are too many jagged reefs for my liking. These chaps are not the friendliest bunch but I think they will be intrigued by the adamantine enough not to kill you. I’ll hang around the area for a few days to see how things turn out.

We leave the shelter of our friendly dragon turtle and take over as captains of a small sailboat we dub the Last Chance. It isn’t fair to call us sailors, but we manage to putter closer to the smoke by pushing off rocks with oars and getting some air behind the droopy sails to get us forward momentum. The smoke does not lead to a new island so much as it leads to a permanent platform. An ugly high walled platform has been erected above the water with plates of crude iron all riveted and welded together. It is hardly tempered steel but is still the most concentrated and astonishing expensive amount of metal we have ever been exposed to.

There is nothing akin to a gate or doorway that we can view from the side we approach so we maneuver around to the far side and find a single heavily reinforced gateway. A thick heavy set duo of men each almost sixteen feet tall, and covered head to toe in blackened iron armor spot us. Their beards flicker with fire and they clutch the hafts of pikes with hands that could crush a half-giant to pulp. They speak a broken and twisted form of common.

Fire Giant Guard: Is that a basket or a boat? What in the Hell are you doing here?

Oasis quickly pulls forth a chunk of the adamantine and proffers it overhead.

Oasis: We were told by a giant dragon turtle you might be able to smelt this.

The first guard lifts the visor of his helmet and squints at the metal. He clutches the pike and reaches over the top of the gate to hook our boat and pull us in closer.

Guard: That is adamantine…

A third giant appears from behind the guards, stockier and with slightly better armor.

The second guard snaps to attention.

Guard 2: Captain we were just about to alert you. We found these humanoids and they bear adamantine. Says a dragon turtle steered them here.

Captain: Seven Hells you aren’t delusional or lying. Strip them of their arms and demolish the boat we will bring them to the General.

Without a chance to raise objection or delay them a pair of boulders emanating fiery heat are heaved at the hull of our little boat and Last Chance sinks beneath the waves as we cling to a fire giant’s pike like a life preserver in a kiddy pool. We are roughly manhandled and singed by the natural heat from the giant’s who certainly don’t go out of their way to offer any apologies. Our meager weapons are cast aside and our posessions are stripped.

We are marched below decks of the platform, which extends deep below the ocean floor in some manner of sub-sea mining well. We circle past the old and infirmed giants reduced to doing patchwork on the ironplates compromising the walls, and come out into a extensive shaft lined with foundries and barracks. After what feels like forever we are shoved into a slightly nicer room with some meager furnishings and a better constructed suit of armor and weapons. The General Brymig is confused to our presence and shocked at the chunks of adamantine displayed.

The captain explains our arrival and then awaits orders.

Brymig: How randomly fortuitous. You found this metal?

Helio: It fell in a meteor shower…this is what we salvaged from that event.

Brymig: There is more?

Oasis: We know where more is yes.

Brymig: Captain, who else beyond these two knows of this metal?

Captain: Just us.

Brymig: You two shut the door.

The guards scramble to close the door to Brymig’s quarters and then come to attention.

Brymig: Captain I think these two deserve a commendation.

The Captain salutes his general and swiftly draws his greatsword taking the head off Guard One in one fluid stroke as the General pivots with a pike from the wall and impales the second. The Captain covers the scream from Guard two as he drops his sword and wraps arms around the impaled guards face. The General drops the pike and pulls a long jagged dagger from his belt slashing the second guard’s throat. The two bodies land with a clang.

Skarlax: Well that is one way to demonstrate achievement.

Brymig: Captain bring Horton and assemble those you would trust with your life. I think today is the day. As for you lot. Your survival depends on the answer to a simple question, can you get more?

Oasis: We can. But I think you need to hear us out.

Brymig: I don’t care for your words or pleading. Supply more of this metal and you will live, fail to deliver and you will die.

Oasis: There are many parties searching for this metal and some have the means to forge it already.

For what feels like the tenth time we explain the entire the dragon kings saga from the beginning and even include the part where we screwed up with the Dragon’s Ghost.

Brymig: You puny creatures think that this will let you stand against the might of a dragon sorcerer? We have toiled in these mines for centuries seeking out the means to kill that scum. In a thousand years time we have found enough adamantine to make a single greatsword, you bring me metal enough to forge a dozen. Our ancestors fought against the Sorcerer Reptiles and failed. They exiled themselves here until they were strong enough to fight once more. That day looked to never come.

The Captain returns with a grizzled lean fire giant and a handful of others. They discretely close the door and the grizzled giant, Horton begins to stoke the coals of a forge inside the generals office. The two dead guards are stripped, dismembered and shoved into the furnace to burn.

Horton: Shield?

Brymig: Yes, and an axe I think. Less metal than a sword.

The smith sets about working and the Captain seems heavily excited.

Brymig: You are to witness a change in leadership this day. You should feel honored, no man who is not one of us is privy to such a day. You wish to fight dragons eh? Far be it from me to talk you out of a death worth finding. When today is over I will send a war party to this island of the dead, you will show them the way and steal more of this metal. Return to me a ship swollen with adamantine and I will make you weapons and armor. We will outfit you all. Then we will return to the mainland as Liberators and wipe this scum from the world.

Helio: Very patriotic of you.

For several hours we are grilled by the Captain and General Brymig. His cadre of soldiers all seem uneasy and from the chatter we pick up the fact that a Coup is about to unfold. The current Fire Giant King has ruled long past his prime years, a rarity for their kind. Now a step slower physically and mentally the troops are clamoring for a replacement but few are willing to risk the challenge owing to the adamantine sword wielded by King Harrod. Capable of sundering iron, armor, and flesh in a single stroke it has enabled him to maintain the crown.

Horton manages to forge and affix the adamantine axe head to a haft and they band adamantine over an iron and wood framework for the shield. It is not the most elegant of work but it is far more serviceable than anything we could juryrig. Brymig layers strips of leather over the shield’s exterior and blackens the axe with grease to disguise the metallic enhancements it possesses. His processional forms up and they are all on high alert as we are escorted to see the King.

As we walk there is a general sense of “something is up” from the giants we pass. Several other contenders seem to realize Brymig is taking his shot and the hornest’s nest is stirred. To apparently avoid delay Brymig makes a beeline for the King’s chambers and barely even pauses before throwing down his helm in a clang at the King’s feet and issuing his challenge.

Brymig: Strength breeds strength and you have grown weak. It is time for you to step down.

The King himself is clearly into later years, the fire of his beard and hair seems to be dampened and flickering. The skin is loose around his arms and torso and the eyes betray their years. His grip on the magnificent greatsword is firm and resolute. He knew this challenge was coming and there is unmistakeable arrogance as he takes his feet and spits at his general.

Harrod: You are not the one to wear the crown Brymig. I will add your skull to the pile of those who have failed.

The spectators are still filtering in as the two begin circling. To his benefit Brymig is being cagey. Moving as if he is leery of the greastswords strength. They enter into an extended exchange where Brymig keeps trying to hook the greatsword out of danger’s path and it leads to a counter where Brymig has no other choice than to full parry a swing with the shield. The weight of the blow drives the General to his knees and previous experience from the onlookers indicates the stroke should be fatal, sundering the shield, and severing the arm holding it. But the bands of adamantine hold the stroke and HArrod’s disbelief gives way to a grunt as the axe takes him in a upward stroke at the joint of his breastplate and armpit. The attack severs the arm save for the skin holding it in place at the top. Hot boiling blood spills out and spatters on the floor. To Harrod’s credit, perhaps realizing the end is at hand he drops his greatsword and manages to push his body weight down upon the General who is driven to the ground with the weight of the King upon his torso. The King manages to pin the arm with the battleaxe with his knee and he abandons the greatsword, going for a serrated dagger from his boot. Reaching cross body amidst the grapple he struggles to extricate the blade and Brymig in return abandons the shield trying to wrestle the King off his chest before the dagger can be brought to bear.

Brymig is able to wrestle for the dagger as the King continues to spew blood and after a tense series of moments he pushes the King off and buries the dagger right through Harrod’s elbow. He comes to his feet clutching the greatsword in one hand and the battle axe in the other. He drives the length of the blade through Harrod’s chest and pins the point into the iron below, skewering the crippled and dying king on his knees. Perfectly staged for the execution Brymig hacks the head from the dying King and then takes the bloody iron crown.

Brymig: The King is Dead. All Hail the King.

Dutifully all the soldiers take a knee before their new sovereign. A few of the more seasoned captains seem to linger just a few moments longer before kneeling as well. Taking up the greatsword he beckons for his Captain to approach and gives him the axe and shield.

Brymig: Captain Yamur I promote you to the rank of General and give unto you the first of our clan’s newest adamantine weapons. General Halz and General Grib approach.

Anxious murmurs arise as the two who hesitated the longest before kneeling are summoned. From what we overhear culling the loyalists from the previous Monarch is not uncommon.

Brymig: General Halz you are a strong warrior and the finest commander and trainer I have had the honor to fight alongside. I hereby promote you to High Lord Commander and task you with the burden of taking up our clan’s greatsword BloodThirst. Should I fall in battle fighting the dragon imposter’s your last sworn duty is to kill the beast that fell me or die trying.

That earns a roar of approval.

Brymig: General Grib. For too long we have squandered our strengths fighting amongst each other and delving in futile attempts to find the metal needed to combat the craven sorcerers. Those days are over. You have the most experience of piloting our Dreadnaughts I bid you choose the six most capable of your proteges and outfit your ships for raiding and battle. You are promoted to the rank of Admiral and have earned the right to lead our fleet back to redemption. As for the rest of you my brothers from this moment forward we are at war.

Entering from the back is Horton carrying the remaining adamantine chunks.

Brymig: These outsiders have come to us, knowing we have the means and strength to use this metal. They shall go forth as the scouts for a raiding party that will return with a cargohold filled to the decks with this metal. We will reclaim the mainland and mount the Wyrm’s heads upon the walls. Tomorrow we will have a contest, and the six who show the greatest strength and cunning will be the vanguard that strikes out to lead these outsiders. GO NOW AND MAKE YOUR PREPARATIONS. TO WAR!

The roar of approval is deafening and we are left staring at each other.

Mercutio: Well I think we just did a bang up job of pouring gas on the fire to put it out.