This is part of the ongoing narrative of our D&D campaign, which is graciously being run by Proud Lion, a fantastic comic shop in Cheltenham. Their RPG Encounters nights are a lot of fun, and give me some entertaining material to work with.
[Before reading, please be aware that there may be spoilers ahead for the D&D campaign books. Equally, our stories are fluid, so things may not follow the books too directly]
“Ow, ow, ow, OW! Get this thing off me!” Drenk shouted, instinctively whacking the white dragon wyrmling whose jaws were dug into his off-arm. The dragon was about the size of the lions of the plains, more muscular and studded with hard plates over its body. Calcryx, the group presumed, was gleaming white, the lustre of its scales not yet dimmed by age or grime, and had a savage look in its eye.
“We’re, we’re here to help…ow, damn it…we’re friends.” The half-orc tried to pacify the wyrmling with words, but saw that his words weren’t relating to a loosening of the dragon’s jaws. Dropping his maul, Drenk tried to grab the dragon in a wide hug, but was shrugged off initially. Gritting his teeth, he tried again, and embraced the dragon in a powerful cuddle, squeezing it just enough to give it its first sense of a loving hold.
Seeing the half-orc frankly wrestle the dragon to the floor, Jester retreated to the back of the room, and knocked an arrow to his bowstring, waiting to see whether this would go wrong, as their actions usually did.
The dwarven druid Burian stowed his staff by his pack, and approached the dragon/half-orc bundle carefully, calling out “Hey, a’ you Calcryx? I hope so, we mean you no harm. If you’d let me friend go, I’ve got this lovely meat f’ ya to gnaw on.” Burian accompanied this by throwing the jerky towards the dragon, but because he was still trying to protect himself with his shield, his throw was a little off, ending up closer to the door.
Luna Wit, the elven ranger who had just joined the group, entered the room and stalked straight over to the dragon, and leant down to pet the back of the creature. Her touch was met by a stiffening of the dragon’s body, and while it did not lash out at her petting, a low groan from Drenk indicated that its jaws were firmly stuck into his arm still.
Having watched this happen, Enna picked up the piece of meat Burian had thrown ineffectually, and accompanied Luna to the creature’s side. She waved the jerky in front of the dragon’s nostrils then pulled it away, and Calcryx followed her hand, finally letting go of Drenk’s arm. She then threw the meat to the dragon, who snapped it out of the air, swallowed it in one and growled threateningly.
Knott, the only member of the main party to know Draconic, took this moment to speak to the dragon in its native language. “We don’t want to hurt you, dragon, but if you keep biting…” he started in the scratchy tones of Draconic, but was cut off by a sharp screech from the dragon, directed his way.
“Well, I’m out of ideas” Knott said in Common, and readied his weapon towards the back of the room.
“You idiots! It’s too young for it to understand what you’re saying!” the gnome, who they had saved, shouted before raising his arms to his god and calling down a mystical sanctuary on Drenk, who was still wrapped around the wyrmling. He followed this up by casting sacred flame, but the radiant fire seemed to bounce harmlessly off the white scales.
In an instant, the atmosphere in the room changed rapidly, from tense conversation to fierce fight. The paladin, Levan, who had been waiting anxiously at the doorway charged in to back up the gnome’s attack, but his hasty swipe missed both the dragon and, mercifully, Drenk. Jester fired his arrow from the back of the room, sinking it deeply between scales in the dragon’s flank, and Knott threw a dart that was deflected by a hardened plate.
Drenk, still cuddling the dragon, shifted his grip into a stronger grapple and rolled about with the creature’s thrashing. He glimpsed a large hole dug into the ground, from which the dragon had pounced on him, and directed their struggles towards that hole, figuring that a contained dragon would be easier to deal with.
Jester fired another arrow into a shoulder of the dragon, and it yelped with pain as he dived into cover. Throwing himself behind a table, he was dismayed when it fell in front of him.
Shielding himself, Drenk approached the squirming mass of Drenk and Calcryx, and cast cure wounds on the struggling half-orc, while shouting to the group “Please stop everyone! I don’t want us to kill the kid!”
His cries went unheard as Luna stepped back from the dragon and rapidly fired an arrow into the other shoulder from Jester’s shot. Enna followed up by casting a much stronger scared flame than the gnome, catching the spot where an arrow had punctured Calcryx’s flank. Knott compounded the wyrmling’s woes by running in and plunging his rapier into a leg, before retreating a little.
The dragon screeched again, then finally struggled free of Drenk’s grasp. Arrows and wounds in most of its limbs, Calcryx looked at all the assembled group before seeming to swell up before their very eyes. A light mist appeared to seep out of the dragon’s nostrils, then with an evil look in its reptilian eyes, Calcryx expelled a huge blast of icicle and frigid wind.
The instantaneous blizzard rebounded around the room, contained in such a small space until the wyrmling’s lungs were emptied. The group were all knocked flat with the gust, and it looked as though Luna, Knott the unnamed gnome may not get up again. The gnome gurgled a little, before some blood seeped out of his mouth and nose.
Levan Dawnbreaker, seeing his partner Luna unconscious on the floor, crawled his way along and tried to stabilise her. He pulled concoctions and bandages from his healing kit, trying desperately to stop her bleeding from impaled icicles.
Struggling to stand, his bitten arm threatening to give out, Drenk stood up, picked up his maul and took a swing at the dragon. Unfortunately, the large maul had a light frosting of ice now, and his grip slipped as he swung, causing him to miss the swipe.
Lying beside the table he had failed to hide behind, Jester saw Drenk’s swing-and-a-miss, the group of fallen allies and the mewling dragon towards the back corner of the room. Dismayed at the disastrous condition of his allies, Jester shouted “Not Today!” and jumped from prone, grabbing a magical arrow from his quiver.
While in the air, he fitted the arrow to his bow and fired, living up to his elven ancestry in the fluidity of his actions. The arrow flew true and quick, a glowing aura surrounding the bolt, before embedding itself in the dragon’s eye socket then emerging from the back of its skull, falling to the floor after exiting the body. The dragon dropped, and the icy patches around the room lost their shine as the white dragon died.
Relieved and incredibly proud of himself, Jester failed to notice the ground coming up so soon and, living up to the other, human side of his ancestry, he fell to the floor with a thump.