IC: So, How About Those Dragons?

[Lioslaith]

Durnehviir decides its time to try and get away.

Full defense and “up” on the map.

[Esprit15]

You flap your wings, and several of the undead, surprised, and unable to reach past the great leathery sheets that push you into the air. As you push yourself forward, the bowl into the Yuan-ti zombie, who responds with a solidly delivered punch right to your chest. The impact itself is painful, but the real pain comes as the cold spreads around your heart. As you stagger forward, you continue to weakly flap your wings. "We've got him, boys!" the Wight shouts as it grabs your tail and yanks back, and your body falls to the ground with a heavy thud. As its claws dig into your scales, you can feel the last of your life force flowing out through the wounds.

(I leave your last moment for you to narrate)

Spoiler

Show

You take 8 bludgeoning damage and 8 cold damage from the zombie.

You take 8 slashing damage and 4 cold damage from the wight, and one negative level.

One of the wights, smiling at its ally's work, begins running off up toward Charazael.

It is Ymrys and Fenrir's turn

Spoiler: Initiative

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20 - Charazael
19 - Ghast 1
17 - Durn
16 - Ghoul 1
13 - Fenrir, Ymrys
LITERALLY ALL LESS THAN 11: Tabaxi Zombies, Ghouls 2-4, Ghast 2, Wight, Yuan-ti Zombie

[Orsik Vondal]

Fenrir - The Very Young, Tiny, Brass Dragon
AC: 21 HP: 27/62

Fenrir first hears then watches in horror as his eldest brother falls under the onslaught of undead! "Brother! Nooo!" He flies over to where he can see most of the undead culprits then lets loose a torrent of flame. "Get away from my brother, you vile creatures!"

Spoiler: Actions

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Move action: fly to P20 (hover 10ft up)
Standard action: Fire Breath 30ft. line targeting Y1, Z8, Go2, and W1, Reflex save vs. DC 16
Damage - (4d10)[18] fire, half damage on save

[Xanyo]

Surprised by Eldest's fate, Yrmys nearly lets her guard down. She quickly regains it, however, as the stench of the not-dead one fighting her yanked her back to the present.

The undead had proved themselves dangerous. Deadly. This was no longer a game and contest, this was battle, to the (re)death. With a flap of her wings, she twists in the air to face her not-dead point blank, and the not-deads behind it. A glow, a flash, and a searing light that bathes all three.

"Brother, sister, courage to thine hearts! We conquer these foes, now. With breath and breeze now, destroy them! The trophies matter not now, rend the bonds that bind them to the realm of the living!"

A few more flaps of her wings takes her higher in the air, to a somewhat safer position. Swooping towards the rest of the action, she roars her judgement louder than one would expect from such a small creature.

"We shall teach these mounds of rotting flesh, these lesser beings, what it means to be DRAGON!"

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Breath weapon, 15' cone due East to hit Ga3, Z9, and Go3 for (4d10)[18] electricity damage, reflex save DC 18 half.

After breathing, fly 10' up for a total elevation of 20', and 30' due South. If the Ghast (or the Zombie) is still intact, AoOs may apply.

Breath weapon recharge: (1d4-1)[1]

[Esprit15]

Both of you unleash gouts of flame and searing light on the undead, but the dead creatures surrounding you hold together, evidently made of sterner stuff than you expected. As Ymrys flies away, the ghast reaches out, but can't get a grip on your tiny form.

The two zombies around Durnehviir don't pay you any mind, instead, instead beginning to gnaw on the still warm body. The more intelligent husks around it, however, recognize that you all are still a clear threat.

The ghoul takes a step back, before running at Fenrir and taking a leap, long arms outstretched at your tiny body, but misses. The wight sees this and smiles, running past the zombies and making a jump from the tombstone next to you. Unlike the other one, the wight's attack connects solidly in the side of your head, leaving your ears ringing.

Spoiler: Fenrir

Show

You may make an attack of opportunity at one of the leaping undead, since they are leaving a threatened square.

Critical hit from the Wight's slam. You take 16 bludgeoning damage and 8 cold damage from the hit. You also take 1 negative level.

As Yrmys flies away, the ghast runs after her, futily attempting to leap at her but coming nowhere close. The zombie follows dumbly behind. The ghoul however, not keen on chasing you, instead runs down toward the much easier target: Charazael, who is quickly being surrounded just like Durnehviir was.

The zombies begin swinging and grasping at the small, red dragon, and while most of their swings come nowhere close, the group working together manage to get a swing that hits you. As you turn toward the other ghast that is closing in, the one nearby swings a claw at you, raking a claw into your hide.

Spoiler: Charazael

Show

You take 9 bludgeoning damage and 5 cold damage from the zombie.

You take 5 slashing damage and 5 cold damage from the ghoul.

Charazael's Turn

Spoiler: Initiative

Show

20 - Charazael
19 - Ghast 1
16 - Ghoul 1
13 - Fenrir, Yrmys
LITERALLY ALL LESS THAN 11: Tabaxi Zombies, Ghouls 2-4, Ghast 2, Wight, Yuan-ti Zombie

[Ancient]

As Yrmys flies away, the ghast runs after her, futily attempting to leap at her but coming nowhere close. The zombie follows dumbly behind. The ghoul however, not keen on chasing you, instead runs down toward the much easier target: Charazael, who is quickly being surrounded just like Durnehviir was.

The zombies begin swinging and grasping at the small, red dragon, and while most of their swings come nowhere close, the group working together manage to get a swing that hits you. As you turn toward the other ghast that is closing in, the one nearby swings a claw at you, raking a claw into your hide.

Charazael

NOooo! Eldest!

Charazael is shocked by the loss of eldest, but right now concerned about her situation quickly leading to the same fate, it was certainly an error that her panic left her on the ground, hopefully not a fatal one. She takes to the air once again, hopefully avoiding these fiends.

Spoiler: Flight

Show

Standard Action: Total Defense (+4AC)
Move Action fly 65ft forward and 85ft up to P1

[Esprit15]

As Charazael turns and begins flying, the undead around her reach out to her. While only one of the zombies can get a solid smack in, the attack is enough to throw you off, and the ghouls and ghast capitalize on that. In what seems like an instant, you find yourself yanked to the ground, several very hungry undead around you. You can hear mother's voice in your head, a deep, disappointed sigh as the teeth begin to sink into your flesh.

Spoiler: Charazael

Show

You take 5 bludgeoning damage and 8 cold damage from the zombie.

You take 7 piercing damage and 7 cold damage from the ghoul.

You take 8 piercing damage and 8 cold damage from the ghoul.

You take 9 piercing damage and 6 cold damage from the ghoul.

As the other undead begin to feast on what you had somewhat come to see as your family, you see some of the intelligent undead begin to split up, eying you carefully, wondering at what your next move will be.

Yrmys's Turn

Spoiler: Initiative

Show

19 - Ghast 1
16 - Ghoul 1
13 - Yrmys
LITERALLY ALL LESS THAN 11: Tabaxi Zombies, Ghouls 2-4, Ghast 2, Wight, Yuan-ti Zombie

[Xanyo]

Eldest Durnehviir lays heavily on the ground, not-dead ones tearing at his flesh and gnawing at his bones. Fenrir the Clever is held limp in the pale not-dead's grasp. Sister Charazeal is vanished under a pile of flailing corpses.

Little Yrmys chokes on her breath, shocked by the rapid demise of her mixed clutch. Throwing her head back, she gives out a great howl, a wail of despair. Dead. All dead. And so quickly, so suddenly, so unexpectedly. A combined fifteen years of life, wiped away in as many seconds.

She fights to keep her wings moving, to stay in the air, in safety. She checks her surroundings and forces herself to lift herself a bit higher. She takes a few rasping breaths, then, forcing herself calm, addresses the pale one that holds Fenrir.

"This combat is over," she declares resignedly, "Thou hast taken my siblings, yet I am out of thine reach. Some of you seem intelligent. Hearken. I can keep to the skies as long as I must, and breathe destruction upon thee. This would satisfy only vengeance. Instead I would that ye should yield the little one, my brother, unto me that I may grant him respect and dignity in death. You have your feast. Grant me to deprive you of just one morsel, and I shall go my way."

Spoiler: Actions

Show

5' "step" up

I don't know if I can diplomacy the wight, but here goes: (1d20+16)[21]

[Esprit15]

The wight, still holding the limp body of Fenrir, looks up at you. It's other hand seems to stroke the last remains of fur on its face, thinking the question over. "Hm... The runt, and you don't interfere with our meal...?" As the other undead begin to crowd around the large corpse of Durnehviir, it gives a bit of a smirk. "If it allows us to feed in peace, then so be it. Take the useless scrap of flesh," the wight says, flinging Fenrir's limp body toward you by the tail. "Now leave us to our food, morsel, before we change our minds." While the ghasts and ghouls feast ravenously, the wight is evidently more composed, and does not let its eyes off of you until you leave.

[Xanyo]

With a quick swoop, the crystal dragon catches Fenrir's limp body, beating her wings harder to compensate for the added weight. Somberly, she takes her flight towards the mountain, to the Yuan-Ti. She would lay her brother to rest in the mountain, and then see to the affairs of her siblings. Some private rites would honor her brothers and sister, and she would mourn them in seclusion. Then, she would meet with the scholars with many questions - questions concerning the undead and their nature. Yes, many questions would be asked.

[Esprit15]

As you fly back, the air feels quieter without the massive wings of Durnehviir or the chatter of the group. Soon, you make it to Huizilhuicaapetl. Metztli and one of the other Least Blessed from your river journey. The humanoid waves to you with a grin, which slowly fades as he sees what you are carrying.

"Yrmys! What happened!?" he asks, running forward as you land, though making sure to give you space. "Where are the others?"

[Xanyo]

The little dragonling carefully lands, setting her brother lightly down. As soon as she has, her wings flop down, tired. Her head is drooped, her countenance grave. She is silent for a time, then quietly answers Metzli. Her voice is soft and grim.

"The undead are deadlier than anticipated. They are unusual, abnormal, modified, enhanced..." she says with a deceptive calm, "The injuries they inflict are infused with the chill of death. Their skin is tough, their bones are nimble. They are unnaturally resilient. When destroyed, they tear from the lifeforce of the living, and bolster the dead. The persisting corpses glut on my siblings."

She slowly lifts her head and makes eye contact with the Yuan-Ti.

"Thus is my report. Please, excuse me. I go to grieve."

With some careful and reverent maneuvering, with the use of her arms, neck, and wings, she lays Fenrir on her back. Covering him fully with her wings, she begins carrying him solemnly into the mount, towards the most secluded place she knows within.

[Esprit15]

Metztli nods silently, whispering to his friend before stepping away and running off into the mountain.

Without much effort, you are able to find a place that is the right balance of secluded, yet not forgettable and disrespectful, a small cave that most would overlook, but gives way to a small, subterranean pond. The place is quiet and serene - the only sound that intrudes is the occasional drip of water. For as long as you need, you are able to grieve the loss of your first family.

[Esprit15]

Cicero
You groggily come to, and find yourself scrunched up and cramped. Where in the world... No, that's right. Slowly, it comes back to you. The Underdark, the yelling and arguing, the blood, flying, and then a great fatigue coming over you within days of reaching sunlight. You had a powerful feeling, instinctive, like what you suspect a bird feels in the fall to fly to warmer climates, but instead of flying north for the winter, you sought a quiet, secluded place to rest. As you crawl out, you seem to have chosen to take to rest in the hollow of a great tree. As proper light reaches your eyes, you look around, stretching your wings and notice that you didn't even realize how tightly you were clinging to her bag... your bag, now.

As you take in your location, you smell a faint scent of seabreeze, though likely far away, and the mountain that you climbed out of to the south. You also sense... another presence? Something else in the tree is beginning to stir... bigger than you.

Paarthurnax
Consciousness comes to you like dawn comes to chase away a bad dream, and you find yourself in a cramped hole, surrounded by wood. Capture!? Did that hag find you and... no, the smell here is all wrong - not swampy enough, and that breath... No, this is where you decided to rest when sleep overtook you. Pushing and trying to stretch, you feel some of the wood give way, and with a second shove, light peaks into the cold, hard wooden enclosure.

As you crawl out of the great tree, your ears perk up. Above you, something small is stirring as well.

[Lioslaith]

Hmmm, a meal perhaps? I am starving after the sleeping. Paarthurnax thinks to himself but then quickly realizes it is another dragon. He hsakes himself much like a dog shaking off water and gets his feet underneath before saying, "Well met, and who might you be?"

[Orsik Vondal]

Cicero - Sis, The Copper Jester

Cicero watches as the silver dragon emerges from the tree. Bigger than me. Smarter than me? Probably not. But let'snot jump to conclusions just yet.

When the other dragon greets him Cicero says, "I am Cicero, The Copper Jester. Sis for short. I recently just emerged from the Underdark passage from the mainland. My former master and party were killed by a shadow assassin in the depths. I alone escaped. And you are?" He unconsciously fiddles with the satchel strapped to his torso.

[Lioslaith]

"I am Paarthurnax, it is nice to meet you." Giving himself the once over he spreads his wings, the sun glinting off the silver color. "I am hungry."

What Cicero says starts to sink in, "A passage to where did you say? And I am sorry to hear about your master."

[Orsik Vondal]

Cicero - Sis, The Copper Jester

Cicero responds without looking at Paarthurnax, his head idly looking about taking in all the sights and sounds of the waking world. "From the mainland. We're on a tiny island to the south of the main landmass. I was bonded by a yuan-ti wizard, my master, and our party were looking for a faster way to travel from the main yuan-ti empire to Weasel Capital, which is the big yuan-ti city on this island. I don't know why they called it that, but when you're in charge, you can name things any way you want, I guess. I'm also hungry. Let's see if we can find some food."

He begins to walk around the tree sniffing the ground and raising his head to peer around periodically. "So what's up with you? How'd you get here? I don't remember hearing about other expeditions to the island."

Spoiler: Looking for food and trouble

Show

Survival - (1d20+9)[13]
Spot - (1d20+9)[23]
Nature - (1d20+9)[10]
Listen - (1d20+7)[20]

[Lioslaith]

"I have always been here. I was a servant as well, to a Tabaxi mage, he got in over his head one day and I ended up free." He watches Cicero look for food and smiles to himself. "I have never been to the mainland, I think I should like to go sometime."

[Esprit15]

Yrmys
You spend the next few days mourning at Fenrir's grave. Soon though, the call to stretch your wings and hunt reaches you. Besides, it might do you some good to move around and taste some fresh meat. You leave the cave and fly slightly to the north. You've spent much of your time in the southern end of the island, but during your four years, never really bothered to fly north and explore much - that was something that Durn and Chara always did.

Flying further north, you are well away from where the worst of the complaints about undead come from. The land here you know is relatively unbothered by Children of Merrshaulk, as well as Tabaxi, and the forest becomes sparse enough that game is easier to hunt than in the jungle. As you pass by a large tree, you notice some presences in it that feel familiar. But that's impossible - You're the only dragon left on the island, right?

Paarthurnax & Cicero
As you converse among yourselves, you spot a small creature with a body like murky glass and broad wings flying above the forest... Weird.

Paarthurnax, you knew that one or two of the other mages that Ragi worked with in passing had familiars that were dragons, but you had never heard of one that looked like that, and it would be weird for them to be flying out here alone, and so far from... anything, really.

Cicero, as far as you know, there aren't a lot of Yuan-ti mages that initially settled Huitzlhuicaapetl, so it would be odd for a dragon from one of them to be present here. While your first thought is that it must just be local and free, you are unfamiliar with what kind of dragon it would be - certainly not an of the metallic or chromatic varieties that you have met among the few familiars you remember from the main land.

[Lioslaith]

"Is that.... a dragon? What is it doing here?" Paarthurnax calls to it hoping to get its attention.

[Xanyo]

That's odd... Shapes... sizes... huh... hmm, maybe its some kind of large game. A bear and... a smaller bear? Couldn't really tell. Eh, I couldn't eat a bear. Right after waking the other day, maybe.

The little shiny dragon doesn't slow down at first, then she hears a call from the tree.

What...? Hmm...

With a twist of her wings, she comes to an abrupt stop in the air, the wind tugging hard at her. A couple flaps, and she twists about to face the source of the call.

Friend or foe? I know no friends out here...

From within her belly, a glow builds up, refracted by her strange nature and causing her to shine. She can taste the light as she prepares herself. Hovering, she scans the area with her eyes.

[Orsik Vondal]

Cicero - Sis, The Copper Jester

Cicero's head swivels up to the prismatic shine in the sky.

"Is that.... a dragon? What is it doing here?"

"Don't know. I guess there's only one way to find out for sure. Hey! Shiny dragonling! Come down here! We wanna talk to you!"

[Xanyo]

They call, and in The tongue. Draconic beings then, perhaps. But of what intent?

The glow from the dragonling dims, but does not fully subside. She continues beating her wings, holding her position. Opening her maw, she speaks in a voice that, though small, sounds confident. More confident than was the truth, maybe, but confident nonetheless.

"I know ye not," she declares, "Identify thineselves forthwith."

Now that she is still, the dragonling's appearance is more clear. Clear being the most appropriate adjective. She is small, just the size of a grown housecat, maybe a tad larger. Although she seems dragon, she is fairly translucent, and her form is sharp. Her eyes dart about warily, examining the scene.

[Orsik Vondal]

Cicero - Sis, The Copper Jester

"Well, that's pretty formal. Ahem!" Cicero clears his throat. "Quite. Thou dost know us yet not. Mine name doth be, Cicero, alias The Jester Copper. At thine service gentle sister mine." Cicero gives a dragon's bow. "I and mine brother opposite, Paarthurnax be his name, hath woken from slumber just hours prior. Each survived an ordeal that tooketh our masters both. He in a swamp. I in the Underdark."

Cicero chuckles. "I can't! I just can't! It's too much. My sides are about to burst! So who are you, and where did you come from?"

[Xanyo]

The little dragon narrows her eyes at the larger's antics. Two dragons, both several times her size. One very... merry. Yrmys speaks, slipping further into the older style of the Tongue.

"Thine grammar of the old form," she replies, "Is much wanting. As for how I am called, Yrmys is my name given. One name by thee I have been granted, one lack I yet. His name too, I would know. Whither art ye bound? I yet know ye not, and must fear that ye herald coil. Thus, speak, and without cunning."

Those days of mournful solitude, and the sudden deprivation of her adopted clutch, had done ill for her clarity of speech. The years of talking with the people of serpents had made her easier to understand, but the long rest and the following events had all but undone that.

[Lioslaith]

Paarthurnax chuckles at Cicero's antics and then fixes his gaze on the little dragon more firmly as he refers to himself in the third person. "His name has already been granted and need not be repeated. Will you come speak with us or not?"

[Xanyo]

Yrmys remains in the air, and does not visibly react. She is silent for a moment, then speaks again.

"It matters not," she concedes, "Yet I find ye in mine de facto domain. More weighs on my mind already than is meet; I would not that ye be further cause of concern. Ye are in these lands, thus I must inquire as to thine intentions. Be earnest, for I have no desire for additional coil at this time. From whence do ye hail, and whither goest thou hence?"

[Orsik Vondal]

Cicero - Sis, The Copper Jester

"Woah! Tap the ailerons, Sparkles! I came from the mainland across the sea to the north. Where I'm going I have no clue. I do intend to learn all I can about this island. Where are the yuan-ti, and are there any other races on the island? What can you tell us about others like us around here? Ultimately, we are dragon. Shouldn't we stick together?"

[Xanyo]

The statement "we are dragon" does invoke a visible reaction: Yrmys narrows her eyes, expressing a somewhat sour mood.

"Dragon are not wont to share domain, save with their own brood," An edge creeps into her voice, "I have not kin hither. Of dragon, myself alone dwells in this realm. Do not suppose to think that our distant relation mandates a familial bond. I have none to call family. Some information, though, I may deign to provide."

Wiandie may yet live... but I know her not, or what is become of her. She does not bear mentioning yet.

She pushes herself through the air and glides down to land upon a nearby tree limb. So perched, she expounds.

"Merrshaulk's Children," she emphasizes, "Dwell largely within yonder mountain, and some lands round about. To be certain, however, they are not the dominant denizens. Many a tribe of Tabaxi, a bipedal peoples of feline resemblance, inhabit the jungles and forests. Them, or anyone here, you may hesitate to approach without escort. Both races were wary of- of a few hatchlings. Thine stature would alarm them even if they knew thee."

She takes a pause. That was enough to be told. She turns to the larger of the two... dragons, and addresses him.

"What of ye, Silver? Thine origin and intent, pray tell. I would know thee afore I judge thee."