Once again, the odds stacked against us seemed daunting. The task laid before us, defeating a full-grown adult dragon, seemed better fit for a trained army than a group of adventurers as inexperienced as we were. How could we expect to last more than a couple minutes in battle with the ancient beast?
I knew that the reasonable thing to do was to leave the group and let them see to this impossible task themselves. This was not my fight. The dragon was not after me. In fact, it was probable that the dragon was not even aware of my existence or travels with this group, but I owed them an unspoken debt for their assistance in defeating Delita, the individual responsible for the death of my parents. And so, against my better judgment, I stayed to fight the creature that would certainly kill us.
Attempting to reason with the dragon failed, as we knew it would. The dragon offered to let us live a little while longer if we fetched it an especially large diamond from a city, but we knew that would only delay what was inevitable. This group is not one to back down from any challenge laid before it. Although this often gets them into trouble, I admire their determination. I wonder if knowledge of this diamond will come in handy later on.
With diplomacy no longer an option, we executed our plan. Our goal was to incite the dragon to attack, to charge forward with reckless abandon at its seemingly helpless prey. We hurled insults, but to little effect. Some of our jabs were so poorly crafted the dragon did not even seem to notice we were addressing it, or possibly did not understand our meaning. We toiled on this way until our wizard remembered an ancient curse demeaning enough to anger any dragon. I didn’t fully understand its meaning, but it had the desired effect on the dragon.
We presented little threat to a dragon, so it charged into the cave with the goal of removing our internal organs in a means certainly not approved by the Battenberg Medical Association. At exactly the right moment, we signaled the dwarves to set off the explosives planted at the entrance to the mine. The plan worked! The explosives detonated and dropped tons of rock down upon the charging creature. The dwarves performed their trade expertly, and most of the glory for this victory must be credited to their engineering.
When the dust settled, the dragon was trapped beneath the rubble, only its head and neck sticking out. It was clearly wounded, blood forming a pool beneath its head and seeping from under the fallen rock. The dragon lunged and thrashed beneath the rock, trying to free itself and kill those responsible for causing it pain. Its breathing seemed labored from the tons of rock trapping it to the floor of the cave.
The elf ate one of the magic wafers that were in his possession, and suddenly his already keen elven eyes were granted a sight that was clearly magical. (I’m still not clear on where these wafers came from, but I don’t buy his explanation of, “They just appeared in my pack.”) He fired two shots from his bow, each hitting one of the dragon’s eyes and effectively blinding the creature. Its weakened state allowed our fighter and warden to move in close where they would be most effective, while the rest of us remained out of the reach of the dragon’s jaws and fired spells and arrows at its weakened form.
The dragon continued to struggle, not willing to give up. Just when it seemed the wyrm would break free of the rock that held it, the minotaur struck a blow from which the dragon would not recover. It finally stopped thrashing and its head and neck crashed to the ground.
Once the battle was over, I felt surprisingly good. My body and mind felt stronger and more resilient than ever before. In addition, I believe I am ready to make practical application of the skill I have been practicing. If successful, this new skill will allow me to rewrite the memory of anyone we encounter. I am looking forward to putting it to use.