Rotgoriel's dreams were a muddle of confusing images. A bleak hall with houndlike things baying all around him, a wintery wasteland with a village of black huts and black-eyed people. Then something peering into him, and pushing his mind into a great ocean like a bubble, where it expanded to encompass everything around him.
Rotgoriel was not happy with these dreams, and quite happy to waken...
...at which point he found himself far from where he'd lain his head down to sleep.
There was no sign of the Whisperer in the darkness. He was on a watery ledge, with sheets of the element cascading down behind him. A metal grate set in the cave wall ahead, telling him to abandon hope. And Geebo was curled up beside him.
Annoyed, Rutger shoved the draggit. The little creature tumbled backwards across the ledge, nearly falling off but managing to grab hold of the edge at the last second. “I did not give you permission to touch me while I slept!” Rotgoriel barked.
“I, ah, er, ah... sorry, sorry, Geebo is sorry Little Great One!”
“I should hope so.” Rotgoriel tried a glare, but was surprised to find his heart wasn't in it. The offense didn't seem to hold the weight that it should, and he didn't know why.
The little dragon rose and stretched, examining his hands while he did so. His right hand was healed over from that door puzzle, and his left one was unmarred by black veins. The Whisperer's mark was gone, like it never had been.
“Puny eldritch thing,” Rotgoriel rumbled. He was glad he hadn't ended up pledging to the Shade's Dark Power. It was pretty pathetic.
Then he surveyed the gate. It seemed the only way out of here that didn't involve swimming through a huge amount of water... and he wasn't quite confident enough in his swimming skill to make the trip. A status check told him that his stamina was down to about three quarters as well. Not good conditions. No, the gate was the best option.
Without a word to Geebo he moved up to it and nudged the gate. It failed to open.
He slammed against it. Still nothing.
“Little Great One?” Geebo asked, concerned. “Geebo thought you were going to rest until later.”
“Well you thought wrong,” Rotgoriel told him. Then he wrapped his front claws around the gate, braced himself, and pulled.
Time passed. Rotgoriel felt the stamina leaving him, trickling down, but he didn't care. He was a dragon. He would not be defeated by furniture.
Gates were furniture, right? He got distracted wondering about that for a few minutes, then snarled and put his full weight into it.
And slowly, with shrieking and groaning like creatures being tortured, the bars gave way.
“There. Come, Geebo,” Rotgoriel told his servant, and strolled down the predictably dark corridor beyond.
“Dragonseye,” he muttered as he went.
Your Dragonseye skill is now level 15!
The moistness left the air as he went, replaced by a dryness and heat that made him sigh in relief. He'd been too long in the damp, and quite sure it wasn't good for his scales. And there was a tantalizing scent of smoke, even if it was mixed with sulfur. The rock below his feet warmed, and ahead he could see a reddish glow down the turns and twists of the tunnel.
The heat was pleasantly sweltering by the time he got out into the open, and saw the source of it.
He was on the edge of a large crater, that sunk straight down into the mountain like a gaping wound. Bridges of stone criss-crossed the crater, above and below each other, twisting in nonsensical patterns in some places and broken in others. At the very bottom of the hole, lava roiled like blood.
There were cave mouths on the other side of the crater, he could tell. Five or six... it was a bit hard to tell. Three of them were so close together that it was difficult to see how the passageways beyond twisted.
“How will we cross this, Little Great One? It looks dangerous. Should I get on your back while you fly across again?”
“What?” Rotgoriel felt shock wash through him, and he whirled to face the draggit. “You dare suggest such a thing? You dare suggest that?”
Immediately Geebo dropped to the ground and cowered, turning himself into a ball. “No! Sorry! It was an error! Geeb thought... Geebo was stupid to think...”
“Never mention such a thing again,” Rotgoriel said, shaking his head. Some of his dreams came back to him then, especially that bit about the thing making his mind grow. Geebo had been on his back in the dream. But no true dragon would let himself be ridden, not by a servant. Dragons were not beasts of burden. The very idea was ludicrous.
“Geebo will not ask such a thing again, Little Great One. You are correct in every way.”
“I've half a mind to fly across and let you pick your own way through,” Rotgoriel said, facing the bridges again. But he was down to about half stamina, and didn't want to strain himself unnecessarily.
“We will cross on foot,” he decided. “If something horrible comes I will fly across.”
WIS+1
Geebo fell in silently behind him.
They made it about halfway across the bridges before the ambush struck.
The rustling of hundreds of tiny wings filled the air, as dark shapes the size of Geebo unfurled themselves from below the lower bridges and burst into flame. Keening, the batlike creatures swooped upward, riding the thermals and arrowing toward Rotgoriel and Geebo.
“Scaly Wings!” Rotgoriel roared, and launched himself into the air. It took a bit of adjustment to find the thermals, but he managed.
But the bats were on him before he could reach the other side, curving out to spread out and face him head on.
Head on was fine with Rotgoriel. He had a myriad of options there. They were on fire, so fiery breath seemed like a bad idea, but every dragon has teeth.
“Chomp!”
Your Chomp skill is now level 5!
Your Brawling skill is now level 12!
Rotgoriel caught one of the bats right on the neck, bit its head off...
...and almost screamed as hot boiling blood seared his face and mouth.
Batoutta Hell 093's burning blood burns you for 37 points of damage!
You have resisted the burning condition!
Snarling, Rotgoriel was through the cloud, feeling their heat on his back, hearing them keen as they pursued. The death of one of their number hadn't discouraged them. There was little point in fighting a foe that burned you as it died, and Rotgoriel had satisfied the requirements of draconic courage, so he turned toward one of the caves out and flapped his wings to gain speed—
“Master!” Geebo squealed. “Help! Please!”
For a second, Rotgoriel considered leaving him.
For a second, he did. But as he went, the dragon felt something unexpected.
Concern.
There was something in him, something that hadn't been there the last time he had been awake. Some emotion he couldn't quite decipher. He found himself actually caring about the little draggit, and the very oddness of that made him fold one wing and start to circle before he could think twice about it. Then he was heading back towards the cloud of very surprised bats, through them before he could think twice about it. He took the opportunity to lash out with his claws as he went, and managed to tag a few... more from surprise than anything else, really.
Your Brawling skill is now level 13!
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Rotgoriel didn't have time to see how he'd done. The Battoutas around Geebo were converging on him, but the wind from his wings scattered them as he drew close.
He had a clear shot. He knew what he had to do! As he bore down on the draggit, Rotgoriel spread his hands wide, and snatched at Geebo as he flew past him!
But his dexterity was far, far too clumsy for such a feat.
And to his horror, his flailing hand knocked Geebo off the precarious perch.
“No!” Rotgoriel bellowed. He tried to twist, tried to get past the bridge so he could dive after his servant, but the battoutas caught up to him, and he found himself in a midair battle for his life. Their wings singed his scales as they crowded him, their hot, needle-like teeth gouged and scraped at him, and every time he beat one back two more took its place.
But he fought, nonetheless. Fought, and tried to get the space to dive, even though he knew the lava wasn't that far down, and that he'd cook if he went too far.
And then, his heart soared with relief as he heard a familiar voice.
“Master! I live!” Geebo called up from below, and Rotgoriel snorted, threw himself into a tail-lashing spin, and sped out of the bats.
Your Fly skill is now level 10!
He caught a glimpse, just a glimpse of Geebo on a lower bridge, running for all he was worth. Rotgoriel had to swing wide around the rim of the crater, but he pumped hard and tried to catch up with the draggit. Geebo glanced back and saw him, slowing...
...but the bats that weren't chasing Rotgoriel were hot on Geebo's heels, and Rotgoriel could see that the little servant would be dead if they caught him. “Run! Go! I'll catch up with you!” The dragon called, some part of him wondering why he was bothering.
Geebo nodded, and scampered toward one of the twistier cave mouths.
Rotgoriel clenched his teeth and followed.
He tried to, anyway. But the cloud that had been chasing Geebo doubled back and came after him once it was clear their original quarry would escape.
Another round of battering, burning, and teeth, and Rotgoriel was through. His wings had several rips and burns, and he knew that if he fell here he was dead. He chose the cave mouth that he thought Geebo had gone down, and barreled into it at top speed. He went until it narrowed to human width, landed, and braced himself for a fight.
But none came.
The distant keening of the bats made a counterpoint with their leathery wings, fading until it was silent again. Shadows against the distant red glow, and he guessed that they had stayed in the bridge room, concealing themselves once more in the hopes of springing another ambush.
Idly he wondered what they ate when dragons weren't around, then shook his head. Nonsense wouldn't help him, here.
Rotgoriel waited another minute to make sure that they weren't trying to fool him, then turned around and set down the corridor to look for his errant servant.
He was tired, so he took it slowly. And about an hour and three side-tunnels later, he was forced to admit that Geebo probably hadn't come this way.
But someone had, he realized as he paused at a T-junction. Someone was giggling, not too far down the way.
Warm, throaty giggling. Someone having a good laugh. Rotgoriel found himself absurdly angry about that. He was miserable, wounded, and tired! How dare someone laugh while he was having a bad day?
He followed the noise, and the air grew moist as he went. Dry heat turned to wet heat and the odor of sulfur grew stronger. It was dark here, but the Dragonseye skill kept him on track and able to navigate the winding tunnels without mishap or error.
Finally he found himself in a low, steam-filled cavern. Large circular holes full of boiling water bubbled and roiled about the chamber, emitting steam and high-pitched squealing that could perhaps have been mistaken for giggles.
No, he thought, as he looked around the room. The voice I heard was deeper.
His keen eyes caught something shoved up against a far wall, and he ambled over to investigate.
It was furniture. Not gates or anything like that, but the mossy and rotted remnants of beds, chests of drawers, footstools, and chairs. Rusted and tarnished bits of metal poked out from steam-softened wooden wreckage, and what looked to be the remnants of clothing fluttered as he approached.
In the middle of it, his eyes caught the gleam of untarnished metal, and he gasped to see an intact mirror. It had a silver frame set with carvings of bat wings and naked women, and it was so clearly valuable that he felt his heart instantly fill with greed.
Finally, he'd found something worthy to add to his hoard!
He was right in the middle of prying it loose from the wood, when the woman looked out of it and said “Hello.”
Rotgoriel paused, and took his teeth from the silvery rim. “Who are you?”
“A prisoner,” she replied, smiling and spreading her arms. Her chest wobbled as she did so. She was quite naked, and plump in a way that made Rotgoriel hungry. The bat wings and tail and horns gave him pause, though. She looked like she could be related to those battouta things. “Do you think you could help me?” she asked.
Rotgoriel considered himself in the mirror. She was standing next to him. He moved one claw to paw where she was, and she dodged, giggling. He looked to the side, and saw only air. Then a wisp of a touch drifted across his head, scratching between his horns, and he flinched. He looked at the mirror to find the woman scratching his reflection's head, grinning with sharp, sharp teeth.
“Stop that,” he said, though it did feel quite nice. There was an itchy patch, and she was hitting it just right.
“I want to play with you,” she breathed, her voice a throaty purr. “If you set me loose, oh, I can play all sorts of games with you....”
Then she started rubbing herself and moaning.
It was bizarre, and Rotgoriel stared at her for a second, shrugged, and dug his claws into where the mirror frame met the wood. Then he set his teeth on the silver frame again.
“Wait, stop, what are you... I can feel your lust! You want me! You want the delights I can give you!”
Rotgoriel paused and looked at her again. “I don't think so. I think I want your mirror.”
“No! Don't break that! Look. I can teach you things. I can teach you forbidden secrets. My mistress is Vhand, and she has so, so much to teach you...”
“If your mistress is so smart, how come you're trapped here?” Rotgoriel asked. “Wait. Is she a Dark Power?”
“Yes!” She was squinting at him now. “Wait. I think I see the problem. The dragon part of you is, ahem, bigger. Let me try this.”
And then she rippled and changed, and a large, regal red dragon stood there, radiant in her prime. She was might, she was power, and she was so awe-strikingly beautiful that Rotgoriel couldn't look away.
And then she recoiled, disgust rippling down her crest. “Ah! You're hideous? What is wrong with you?”
That broke the spell.
Not that there was much of a spell, really. Rotgoriel was a day old. The strange dragon was pretty, sure, but he couldn't do much of anything involving mating and wouldn't be able to for centuries.
Rotgoriel shrugged and went back to gnawing on the mirror.
The woman yammered again. “Okay, that was a curse, you're under a curse or something, I see it now. I apologize, I didn't mean to... hey, stop— can we talk about this? Stop, please!”
He stopped and looked at her again. She was back in the naked humanoid shape once more, and he wrinkled his muzzle. “Well?”
“Let us out! There are stone runes carved around the geyser pits. If you scratch them out you'll free us, and I'll give you anything you want.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Good,” Rotgoriel said. “I want your mirror.” And with a final wrench, and a wail of despair from the woman, the mirror came loose.
And Rotgoriel promptly dropped it to the cave floor, where it shattered to a thousand pieces.
“Oh no!” He bent over the remnants, then gave a sigh of relief when he saw that the silver frame was still intact. “Good, good. Still valuable.” He scooped it up, admiring his new treasure.
A hissing scream rung out through the cavern.
He turned in time to see boiling water fountain up from every geyser, and that water was filled with shapes, shapes of naked women with claws and fangs and wings and hatred on every face. Then the water subsided, and they were gone.
Rotgoriel shook his head and left the way he'd come. Maybe a touch fast. Just a little. Certainly he wasn't running, the thought was just silly. In any case, he'd gained something from the detour so he counted it a win.
Then it was down the other side of the T-junction, and back into the dryness. The cave walls turned darker here, until they looked almost like burned glass. Rotgoriel found himself growing tired then... quite understandable, really. It had been a long, exertion-filled day, and he was still a hatchling.
After a time, he found a hole in the wall, curled up, and slept. He cuddled the mirror frame like a talisman and this time he didn't dream. After a good nap he woke up hungry, but refreshed.
Then letters appeared in his field of vision.
WELCOME BACK!
Rotgoriel frowned in surprise. Why were the caves welcoming him?
And then he was a human again.
RUTGER'S CHARACTER SHEET
Spoiler: Spoiler
Name: Rutger Royal
Age: 1 Day
Jobs:
Cultist 1, High Dragon Hatchling 3
Attributes Pools Defenses
Strength: 131 Constitution: 127 Hit Points: 258 Armor: 60
Intelligence: 37 Wisdom: 35 Sanity: 72 Mental Fortitude: 60
Dexterity: 13 Agility: 32 Stamina: 45 Endurance: 0
Charisma: 33 Willpower: 126 Moxie: 159 Cool: 60
Perception: 126 Luck: 32 Fortune: 158 Fate: 3
General Skills
Brawling – Level 13
Dodge – Level 5
Fly – Level 10
Ride – Level 1
Stealth – Level 2
Swim – Level 1
High Dragon Hatchling Skills
Burninate – Level 6
Chomp – Level 5
Draconic Tongue – Level N/A
Dragonseye – Level 15
Limited Equipment – Level N/A
No Thumbs – Level N/A
Scaly Wings – Level N/A
Slow to Age – Level N/A
Cultist Skills
Unlocked Jobs
Conjuror
Gear:
1 Silver mirror-frame