Chapter 55: Chapter 55

Several days later, I, Dana, Jeffrey, mum and dad, and Houseworth, are gathered around the table in the den once more, character sheets and dice arrayed before us. Over the last few sessions, we’d levelled up to 6, as a result of succeeding in wiping out the cultists under Glenhollow. We’d left the village, heading for the nearest big city, where rumour had it the mayor was wrestling with a major problem. It’s been a little weird, needing to get used to Houseworth having a face and a physical ‘presence’ now, but he’s been nothing but helpful, actually being able to load the dishwasher, empty it, pick up the mail, answer the phone, and all the jobs that we fleshy humans would use our hands for.

 

Dad narrates, “As you walk through the gates of Fisher’s Ford, the city seems to be rather quiet, with townsfolk coming and going in an almost reluctant manner, with guards everywhere, all armed with crossbows, longbows, or spears. There’s an old bell-tower missing its roof, with the bulky, looming shape of some kind of object on the top. The sheer number of watchmen is unusually high, and all of them share a grave, solemn look on their faces. What do you want to do?”

Dana raises a hand. “Can I make a perception check to see if I can tell what the thing on th’ tower is?”

 

Dad nods. “Go for it, roll perception, Faeln! Does the lizardfolk have good eyes?!”

Dana rolls a sparkly purple dice, eyes fixed on it. As it settles, she briefly checks her character sheet. “Sixteen in total!”

Dad grins. “Faeln, atop the bell-tower, you recognize this. It’s a siege-weapon! A massive triple-shot ballista, designed to bring down large and powerful creatures. Not the sort of thing you’d find in just any small city.”

Dana relays that to the rest of the party, and a few curious looks are shared. “Why would the city need a giant siege-weapon?” I ask, and Jeffrey shrugs.

“That… is an… artefact… from the old wars…. I… have data referring… to these… weapons.”

 Dad waits in silence as the rest of us discuss. Houseworth chimes in, playing up his fake Dwarven accent, “Ach, tis a big piece o’ shite. S’all rusted and worn. T’will nae do a damn thing ‘gainst no great beastie, ye ken?”

 

Dad continues, “Your presence hasn’t gone unnoticed, with several of the militiamen starting to group up and follow you. They don’t seem actively hostile, more wary of strangers showing up in a time of crisis. What do?”

My mother smiles. “I want to approach one of them, show my Adventurer’s Guild license, and explain that we’re here to help!”

Dad claps. “Roll persuasion, with advantage!”

She scoops up two D20’s, shaking them decisively, before letting fly. “Whoo! 25!”

Dad blinks, then responds. “the militiaman who seems to be the most superior, judging by the small cluster of medals on his armour, hands you back your license and nods. “You’d best come with us, miss, and your companions, too. I’d advise not doing anything to cause a stir. The mayor will explain what’s happening, come along.”

The militiamen escort us to the town hall, weapons held ready, but not ‘about-to-attack’ ready. Hands on hilts, crossbows ratchetted back with a bolt ready to let fly, that sort of thing. In less than thirty minutes, we’re being ushered into an austere, plain room with a desk, several wooden shelving units filled with books, and two men poring over a map at the desk. One is a ranger of some sort, judging by the longbow slung over his back, the quiver of arrows on his hip, and the dark green cloak that reaches the floor, its hood down for better visibility. An elf, white hair cropped short and close to the skull.

The other man is wearing battered leather armour, a well-made but unadorned sword at his waist. His beard is lightly singed, he’s missing his eyebrows, and he generally looks like he hasn’t slept in four days. Exhaustion is clearly gnawing at him. He looks up as we traipse into the room, and his expression brightens somewhat as his officer explains why we’re here.

“Ah! Adventurers, eh? Tell me; are the lot of you for hire? My city is in the midst of a rather bloody predicament, and we could use all the help we can get!”

I look around the table, fiddling with a strand of hair. I’m so glad I’ve been allowed to grow or cut my hair at my own discretion. It’s getting pretty long now, and I keep the hairbrush Jeffrey got me as a birthday present to hand. It’s been getting a lot of use, too! ^_^

“I think we should hear this man out. We should ask what his problem is and do our best to resolve it. I mean, if they’re setting up ancient siege weaponry and hiring everyone who can swing a blade, it must be serious!”

  

Dad continues. “Indeed! You see, in recent months, a red dragon set up home somewhere nearby. It didn’t seem to be causing any problems, no missing livestock or farmers, so we simply kept an eye out in case that changed. Well, something has driven the creature into a fury and it’s been attacking the city several times a week! We’ve managed to drive it off each time, but more and more people are getting hurt, our trade has suffered, and no-one dares to venture from their homes unless absolutely necessary! Will you help us?”

Looking around, I realize that the rest of the party is staring at me. “Um, yes? I mean, a dragon seems like a big ask, but as long as you don’t expect us to do it alone, we’ll do everything we can to help you!”

 

“The mayor sighs in relief and clasps each of you by the hand, shaking vigorously,” narrates my dad, his beard puffing up, before speaking as the mayor.

“Wonderful! Simply outstanding! Don’t worry; there’ll be a handsome reward for each of you if you manage to resolve this problem! If preferable, I’d ask you not to KILL the dragon, if you can avoid that. We’ve lived in peace with it since it arrived, and I fear something may have caused it to start rampaging. If you succeed, I’ll pay you each 150gp!”

I nod. “That sounds reasonable. Now, we can help out till the next attack. I’m a cleric, allow me to tend to your wounded as best I can!”

Houseworth chimes in, his chair creaking a little, “And Ah’ll have me a wee look at that tri-shot siege-breaker ballista, see if’n Ah c’n gerrit intae summat of a state approachin’ less-than-useless.”

Jeffrey and my mum decided to help with foraging and resupplying the city as best they can, while Dana scouts to see if she can learn where the dragon makes its lair. We all look towards my dad.

“Kylie, roll medicine, Dana, I need a stealth and a survival roll from you, Houseworth? Give me… a straight d20 and add your proficiency bonus if you have proficiency in smith’s tools. And dearest wifey and Jeffy-boy, one of you roll Nature with advantage!”

Houseworth goes first. We watch as he picks out a d20, shakes it, the little icosahedron barely visible through his holographic fingers, and lets fly. It spins, rattles, and comes to a stop. Houseworth smirks as my dad looks poleaxed. “That would be…. A natural 20, totalling 23 with my proficiency bonus.”

Silence, before Jeffrey lets out a whoop, high-fiving the holographic digital teenager, as my mother giggles, and I smile at Dana. “I hope we can live up to that! Houseworth’s just set the bar pretty high!”

  I scored a 17 on my Medicine check, nodding happily, as Dana cues up her first of two rolls.

“Okay, stealth first! And it’s aaaaa…. 17, thanks to no armour! And now for survival… 23!”

Dad strokes his ‘beard’ and nods thoughtfully. With a few moments’ discussion, my mum takes the dice. “I have a +2 to Nature, which is higher, so we’ll have a better chance, okay?”

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Jeffrey nods, smiling and leaning back, arms crossed. Dad reminds his wife, “You have advantage on this roll, then!”

Mum shakes a pair of d20s, muttering under her breath, “big money, no whammies!”

She lets fly, and the dice skitter across the board, coming to a halt in full view. A 12, and an 18. “plus my two, and that’s a dirty 20!”

Dad groans, “You’re all being so jammy, you lucky gits! Alright, Helm! You spend the next… two days working on the siege weapon, and manage to get it into a fairly-reliable state of operation. It might not last, but you’ll be able to get at least one guaranteed shot out of it!”

Houseworth fist-pumps. “Yussss.”

“Faeln! Your stealthiness allows you to track the dragon’s passage by the brief traces it leaves when it lands, noting which way the claws are pointing, and the spots where moss is scraped off the trees at a height well above your head. You find the cliff-side cave, two days’ journey from the city, where it has managed to make a lair.”

He points at my mum and Jeffrey. “You two manage to fill about…” he rolls a pair of d20s. “17 sacks with mushrooms, edible roots, berries and plants, enough to ease the burden on the dwindling city’s granaries and stores, as well as securing a reasonable quantity of gamebirds and wild meat.”

 

He stares at me. “Kylie, roll me a d6, please.”

With a nervous smile, I pick up the dice and roll. It lands… on a 1.

Dad nods. “As you work for almost two straight days, making salves to ease the burns, setting broken bones, and in a few of the most serious cases, you manage to ease the pains and wounds of the city’s most critically injured. Only one patient dies, slipping away painlessly thanks to the tireless care you’ve provided.”

 

I wince, sitting back as Dad continues. “At the end of the second day of preparations, the party regroups, sitting a simple, filling meal. You have a few minutes to come up with a plan while I step away from the table, before you’ll get the benefits of a long rest, and be ready for the morning. Go!”

He stands and leaves the Den, and we all start furiously discussing, trying to make the most of our surprise golden opportunity…

 

 

 

Dad returns, and we all exchange looks as he grins. “Okay, I guess you’ve spent the last eight minutes concocting some hideously-unfair and chaotic plan? Alright then! After a full night of restless sleep, you’re roused in the early dawnlight by the sound of bells clanging, horns blaring, and cries of alarm. “Dragon! DRAGOOOON!” someone pounds on the door of your accommodation, feet pounding up and down the hall. What do?”

 

 We all barrel out of the room and head for the city’s main square, weapons ready, prepared to throw down with a dragon!

 

With initiative rolls made, Faeln gets to go first, and Dana checks her sheet. “I’m going to start ascending the siege-weapon tower, since I can’t attack at range.” She moves her mini, smiling at the rest of us.  Jeffrey goes next.

“is the dragon within 60 feet of me, or can I GET within 60 feet of it?”

Dad checks his measurements, then nods. “if you use your full 30ft, you’ll be just in range. What are you planning, Crosshead?”

Jeffrey grins. “I move, and then throw one of my darts at it!”

He rolls, and cackles, “21! Does that hit?”

Dad stares at him in consternation. “YES that hits, you fuck! Roll damage!”

Jeffrey rolls a d4, adds three to the result, and smirks. “Full damage! 7 points of piercing!”

Dad rolls his eyes. “What Aztec god do you serve again?!”

He marks off the damage. “The dragon roars in irritation as the Warforged hurls a long spike. It sails through the air like a flash of light, embedding itself in the red-scaled flank.”

He then turns to the A.I sitting to his left. “Helm Coldforge! You’re up, what do?”

“Ah tek a shot at yon overgrown gecko wi’ mah light crossbow!” Houseworth rolls. “20!”

Dad claps. “Yep, roll damage!”

Houseworth’s fingers scoop up a dice, he shakes it, and scores a total of “7 points!”

Dad marks that off too, chuckling softly.

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