Gameplay - The Dragon Who Asked Too Much

Garth is suddenly walking through a battlefield. The members of his regiment lay dead. There are scores of dead goblins, his friends had killed ten for each of their own, but they were vastly outnumbered.
As he walks through the rows of the dead he is wracked with guilt. Why did he survive when all these worthy men died? What made him special?
Then out of the mist came his father. Maybe he was dead after all. His father had died years ago, maybe he was here to take him to Gond personally.

Father, it is good to see you, even if you must be a spectre.

His father laughs and approaches.

I may be dead, but I am no spectre, boy. You're head always was in the clouds.

It sure sounded like his father, that was one of his usual complaints.

I am here because I could feel your self pity and hear your whinging in the grave. Look son, you have been around soldiers all your life, you know that death comes for us all. It came for me, it came for them, and it will surely come for you. There is no point in trying to figure these things out, you just strap on your armour and do your job.

Garth knows all that of course.

I know father, but the sheer chance that I would live through all this.

I don't know what to tell you son. Maybe it was Gond. I do know that for whatever reason you were saved, it will be world changing. I was always proud of you Garth, and I am sorry that I never expressed that to you.

Garth starts to reply to his father when the scene starts to get misty again and he is suddenly back on his hippogriff in the clouds. He is not sure if it was a dream, a vision, or a message from beyond...but he feels better none the less.

Ruby peeled off from the group, looking for Garth who seemingly vanished from the air. Suddenly she spots him once again, not entirely sure what transpired. This fixation is what led to her being unaware her saddle was slipping sideways until she suddenly finds herself yanked to the side, and she's left hanging onto the saddle by her hand, as it's currently rotated about 90 degrees clockwise from it's normal position. "Catch me!" She shouts to her hippogriff, releasing her grip and free falling.

The hippogriff catches on and alters it's course to position just below Ruby as the two fall. Ruby quickly pulls out her staff and uses it to knock the saddle back to it's original position, rather difficult considering she has to work against the wind, but it gets done. Next she pushes herself down, colliding with the saddle. Safely back on the two ascend back to the group, and just far back enough to notice the harpies who are about to ambush everyone...

save for later incase something happens., dont judge me

Hasan hears a twinge of what sounds like music coming near the foggy area Garth exited from. Seeing Ruby now right herself on the mount Hasan tightens his grip onto his own for the fear of falling. At the howling speed of the hippogriff maneuvers though the air like a fish in water.

As quickly as they came the seemed to disappear just as quickly. Garth hearing the soft lulls and sweet tones seem to not notice the threat he was in until it was to late. Three of the Harpies quickly latch on to him pulling him from his mount and off into the sky.

Hasan can hear Ruby start to say something as he too notices the threat they are now in. Tightening his grip and pulling the reins he breaks out of the flying formation to try and stave off the possible attack.

Suddenly Hasan hears a struggle and more wings flapping then in flock he's currently with. He peers over his shoulder to see a blanket of winged persons, Some playing harmonious instruments others wielding unusual weapons. Bones? He thinks, No, perhaps just some odd clubs. He draws his crossbow and does his best to aim. Firing into the flock of Harpies does little to disperse them. He cannot get the grasp of air combat having to hold on and attack. His speed of firing seems to be significantly slower then normal.If only I weren't in the air.
Closing the gap between his traveling companions and the threat Hasan continues to unleash round after round. Few to hit only to enrage the incoming Harpies. They now are becoming more aggressive, the music seems to stop as they increase in the speed of their advancement. The singing continues to surround the flock from the background.

Hasan determined to show Hehsh and Ruby that he can be relied upon during his previous missions and letdowns he charges by the incoming hostile. Now giving more care to speed over accuracy as he begins to rain down crossbow bolts at a speed unknown before. Many find their mark as only a couple of their flock fall from the sky. Realize this may be more then a one man job. Hasan clasps back the reins of the hippogriff and race back to gain reinforcements.

"Help!" he cries out as he approaches the group. "It seems we may be under attack."
He looks about. "Wheres Garth? The group looks about to see that his hippogriff flies void of its jockey. "The must have gotten Garth?! Quickly!"

With the other in tow, they start to swoop into the flock raining magic bolts and normal bolts alike. The flock of harpies begin to thin enough to see a glint of something being carried in the middle. "There! In the middle. That must be his armor!" Hasan shouts back to Ruby and Mavis. "We'll keep them distracted while you go get him."
Hasan slows his barrage of bolts only enough to speak.
"Focus our attacks" Hasan calls out to Hehsh. "Maybe we can drive them off if we start to whittle their numbers?"

As Hehsh and Hasan begin to focus fire swooping down on the flock. Ruby and Mavis take the opening slaming their hippogriffs into the two that had Garth. Releasing their grip Garth begins to fall Ruby calls out that "they have a problem". What now?! It was simple get Garth.. Hasan thinks, then is quickly remedied as he sees the glint of armor quickly descend into the area below. "Hehsh hold them off!" Hasan says a small prayer as he clasps the reins and dives after Garth. Garth begins to yell as he comes to his sense as the singing now begins to diminish.

Hasan clumsily maneuvering the mount to grab Garth. Hasan fumbles loosing his grip too almost dismounting himself. Grabbing hold of Garth Hasan quickly pulls him to seat as they come back up.

"Its Working!" Hehsh shouts as he continues his barrage of magic. The Harpies seem to be doing swapping places as the magic continues until a command is given near a shrieking tone. They begin to retreat with such haste.

"I suggest we land so we can remount proper like." Hasan suggests.

~fin~

The party continues on. After a fair distance they notice a flock of birds in the distance. Normaly this would be nothing worth noting, accept something on the wind smells off to Hehsh. Like lightning mixed cinnamon. He convinces the party to detour and investigate.

It turns out to be a murder of crows, cawing above a caravan that seems to be in bad shape, although there is no apparent cause for their distress. Carts have come free of their donkey's, barrels of goods have tumbled free, and it seems like every spare length of rope has turned into a tangle. Accidents and mishaps plague the caravan, and everytime something goes wrong there is always a dust devil.

The party lands and tries to help but it is more of the same. Hehsh is confused. This all seems familiar some how. When a dust devil blinds him in a spray of oddly colored dust that will not rub out, he begins to understand. He's seen this before.

The crows pester him, so he uses magic to create mirror images of himself to confuse them. When he sees ropes spring up by themselves as if they were serpents, he wrangles them with mage hand. When five dust devils turn into a single massive gale, Hehsh matches it with the fury of a lightning bolt, sent to the heavens.

"Come now. I know you are here. There is no need to trouble these people any more." Hehsh calls out. Out of nowhere, a small boy appears. Pale white skin and platinum hair that shoots up into an unatural spike. An air genasi and a sorcerer to boot. One who Hehsh understand is just beginning to understand his powers but not the consequences.

"Caught me did you?" says the genasi. "I like your tricks. No harm meant. I was just bored and though I would have some harmless fun."

"If fun is what you want, I know some pixies who love your sort of fun. They are in the next valley over."

"Pixies you say? Well there is a group that knows how to appreciate a good prank!" With that he spins away into the wind. Hopefully, the pixies will teach the boy something about consequences.

Deep dwarves have a profound respect for law and rules. A world where life depends that every prop undergoes thorough inspection, and every tool is authorised for suitability, cultivates a strict adherence to regulations. Deep dwarves are surrounded by law in the same way that fish are surrounded by water - if it's absent then life is brief.

Mavis cautiously pulls on the reins bringing the hippogriff to a hovering halt, noting the elven officers approach.
Wood-elven officers are considered unique amongst the watches, as they eschew swords and crossbows, armed with nothing more than silly hats and wooden sticks. This leads many races to believe that wood-elven officers are less violent than other officers. This is wrong. Lacking permission to use swords, they've elevated chucking-suspects-down-the-stairs and slamming-heads-into-cell-doors into a martial art.

Ruby is approached by Constable Tranquillity;
Hehsh by Constable Serenity;
Garth by Constable Placidity;
and Hassan by Sergeant Responsibility.
Mavis is assigned Constable Brutality.

Oh great, thinks Constable Brutality seeing the dwarf, a bloody schist-kicker.

Brutality had recently been told to attend a course on non-elven race relations. He'd begged off on the grounds that all his relations were wood elves.

Placing her hands upwards in her lap, Mavis politely waits for the officer to come alongside.

'ow do. Is owt up officer? Summat amiss? Ruby asks innocently.

Fazed by Mavis's thick accent, Constable Brutality tries the watch officer's universal language...
DO - YOU - SPEAK - COMMON?
... he shouts slowly.

EEEE - THAT - WERE - COMMON - THA' - CLOTH-EARED - HA'P'ORTH. Ruby shouts slowly back.

The constable's hand reaches for his truncheon.
What did that racist little rock goblin say about my ears?!

Constable Brutality knows, and uses, a thesaurus of racial terms of abuse. If anyone complains, he moans that people today are too quick to take offence. But if anyone should suggest that wood elves might be less perfect, he's been known to become the snowiest of snowflakes. Perhaps he complains that people are too quick to take offence, because it leaves less for him.

The anger paralysing Constable Brutality is interrupted by Sargent Responsibility, bringing her eagle alongside.

Is there a problem Constable?

Got a villain Ma'am. errr.... Brutality thinks fast ....drunk in charge of a mount, Ma'am

Evidence? The sergeant's eyebrow arch. Her eyebrow was very good at arching. Constable Brutality gave it lots of practice.

He's a rock muncher Ma'am Clearly satisfied with that this is now a closed case.

If you mean she's a member of the dwarven community, then that's not actually a crime Constable.

If you say so Ma'am replies Brutality doubtfully.
Constable Brutality has always assumed that "short sentence" meant a mandatory punishment for being less that 5'2".

The seargeant turns to Mavis
Hey hup lass. Where are thar going, and has thar been boozing my old matie? Gor blimey. - torturing the dwarven dialect to the point where even Dick Van Dyke's cockney would have begged for mercy.

Nay, lass. Lookin' to get to Mourning t'n. Weirdly, Mavis is less offended by Brutality's overt racism than being patronised in a mangled version of her own dialect, but co-operates nonetheless.

Very well. Don't let us delay you further. Don't forget your seat-belt. The sergeant nods Mavis towards her party hovering ahead.

Seat-belt?
Mavis looks around to discover extra straps on her harness.
Seat-belt! So that's why nobody else had to cling to their hippogriff's mane for dear life.

Mavis fastens herself to the saddle, nods politely to the officers and continues to meet her friends.

Sargent Responsibility takes out her notebook.

Constable - I'm recommending that you attend a course on dwarven awareness.

Yes Ma'am. Thank you Ma'am says Brutality brightly
Dwarven awareness will come in useful ma'am. Sometimes it's difficult to spot the little buggers.

The exciting and entirely confusing flight to Mourning Town comes to a close later in the day when your hungry and tired hippogriffs beeline without direction for a particular inn. Alighting in the rear yard, they snap and caw at a stable hand, who with practiced familiarity dodges their playful anger, helps you from your saddles. "Welcome to The Aerie," he says loud enough to be heard, dodging a clawed kick from Hasan’s hippogriff. "Two gold each, and we’ll take care of both you and these beauties. Got baths, a seafood roast that’s almost ready to be served, and enough mead to swim in. Go on in, I’ll unsaddle these and get them fed and brushed."

The stable hand shoos you inside, brooking no questions and offering no further information. You grab your gear tied to the saddles and enter the inn. The décor reminds you of open skies, with light walls shaded by lighter spots that are like clouds. The walls lighten around a roaring hearth with flames bright enough to make a fair impression of the sun. A number of games are being played, all involving clay figures on a circular board. A roar goes up as one man twirls his moustache and tips over his last piece, a dragon painted silver.

A plump woman waves you over to an empty table that she grabs some mugs from and begins attacking with a rag. "Over here, come on, welcome, welcome."

Mavis totters over, twisting and stretching her back as she walks; her legs leaden and back stiff after the long flight.

She smiles warmly at the plump lady.
'ow do? I hear that tha' has baths. Hot baths are they? It were ever so parky on flight here. Has tha' rooms for t' five of us?

She turns to her Hassan.
Hot bath t' take chill off, followed by fish supper. Put feet up and grab bite afore we go exploring proper like. What's tha' think Hassan?

"Well lets eat and get clean yes. Perhaps a nice rest in a proper bed before exploring I think. He replies as he begins to yawn.

After years in the military, Garth knows enough to take a beer and a good meal whenever they are offered.

As tempting as a hot bath sounds, I think I will take care of the inside before the outside. I will take a mead please and some of that roast the stable hand mentioned, please.

Garth looks around.

This is a beautiful place, and well kept.

Garth recognizes the game, a favourite with sailors and soldiers alike. The rules are simply, more like checkers than chess, but there is a strong wagering element that often results in the game devolving into a drinking contest and inevitable singing. The goal in the game is to move a game piece into a space occupied by one of the other players pieces, with the contest resolved entirely by opposed six-sided dice rolls - these dice rolls are where the gambling occur, with bets on win, lose, or tie.

Ruby is glad to be off of her mount, all that flying has her feeling rather stiff. After a bit of stretching she feels well enough to move, but can't stifle a yawn first. The prospect of food and drink is enticing enough to keep her from resting, this whole diplomat job has some benefits.

Once inside Ruby smells the air and observes what everyone is enjoying, taking mental stock of what's on the menu. "Why hello. I will take...one of each please."

Ruby listens for anyone (or even a bard) discussing tales of a certain powerful halfling who courageously fought against a horde of hobgoblins, growing stronger with every foe they felled.