Fun vs Rules, Some Thoughts

Some rules systems are very “crunchy”. By this, we mean that they are full of lots of tiny, detailed rules. Think of “crunching numbers” as an idiom and you’ll get what I’m saying. Like all of gaming, and of life, this brings both good and bad. 

The good of it is that there is consistency. When you cast this spell, this is what happens. When you meet up with that monster, then these are the things that it can do. If you try to buy a new suit of armor, or a horse, you can look up how much it will cost you. It also means that the game master doesn’t have to guess at so many things. They can just look up the rule and go.

There are some problems with crunchy rules, though, and one of them is that it creates the need to look up things. “You’re throwing the Fireball at the wall to try and blow a hole through it. Hmmm. Let’s see. I have to look up the Fireball spell. What level is that?  Ok, here it is. Hmmm. OK. Now, I need to look up how much structural damage that wall can take. What book was that in? Oh, yeah. Over here. Let me look in the index. Here it is... Wait. Is this wall brick or stone?” Do you see how that can significantly interrupt the flow of the game? 

Another problem it creates is the rules lawyer. This is a challenge when the player challenges a judgement the game master makes. Then the two dig into the rules books and begin pointing out variations and nuances of the wording of the rules to prove their points. The story grinds to a halt as the two try and hash out the results.

Also, it can be a problem when the GM creates an encounter, and the player immediately looks up the monster’s stats, abilities, and weaknesses. 

I’m not saying clarity of the rules is a bad thing, but there should be room for variation, and for the sake of the story flow, some calls should just be left to the common sense of the game master. 

The game master should, also, be willing to listen to a certain amount of appeal or explanation from the players, but should also quickly roll with a decision and move on in the story.

I think this is particularly important when dealing with younger players. They may not remember the details of the rules, but they will remember the excitement of the story.

How to Make Family Game Night Fit in Your Schedule

This is an excerpt from the upcoming book "Roll Dice, Build Character: How to Use RPGs to Help Raise Great Kids"

Keep coming back for more excerpts and for publication alerts.

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Remember how I said that one of the greater evils of RPGs was the time suck? Remember how I said that if you let it, it will rob you of focus and balance in your life?  That’s a very real danger.

So, to start with, make sure that you set up ground rules so that gaming becomes a good, fun, and healthy part of life, rather than something that takes over your whole life.

I recommend that you start by setting aside regular times. Mark it off on the calendar. Make it a part of the family consciousness. Weekly, biweekly, monthly, whatever your family schedule can fit in. For us it works to do it weekly, with exceptions. That’s important as well. All of us realize that the game will happen, and we try to schedule things around it, but that if an event with extended family, or some important school or work event comes to happen on gaming nights, we will skip game night. The family and extended family is very important to us.

If you have to miss several weeks in a row, that can get to be problematic, too, though. It’s easy for memories to fade and then you lose your place in the story. Don’t let too many empty weeks go by.

Also, if one player or two of the party has to miss a week or so, what do you do? One way we have handled this is to simply magically “blip” their character temporarily out of the story. We would joke that that character is “visiting his sick grandmother” that week. That can mess with your story, but it does keep the story flowing. 

Another option is to do a “one-off” adventure or a side quest. This is a short, one-session bit of fun that doesn’t have to impact the main story line. It can even have a different GM and different characters. At one point, I told all of my players to make extra characters so there would be something to draw from if we suddenly needed to “pick up” a game.

While we’re talking about scheduling, It’s also important to find time within your own personal schedule for prep time, if you’re going to be the GM. Gaming sessions can be improvised, it’s true, but they’re never as good as a well-planned storyline. We’ll talk about this more, later.

Blocking out a couple of hours for prep and a full evening for playing each week is a pace that works very well for us. At first, I was doing all of the GM duties, but over time, I’ve allowed my kids to take their turn. Their friends have come into our group as well, and have found friendship and belonging among us. As I’m writing this, one of these friends is our current GM. We’ve made scheduling accommodations for the friends, too, but often we just have to set the calendar and say, let come who may.

Why we love fantasy

Why we love fantasy

Early childhood is a time of wonder and learning. Everything is new, and it’s easy to slip between the world of imagination and the world of reality. During this impressionable time, many of us grew up hearing classic fairy tales, either in their original form, or revisited as a movie. While a lot of us outgrow that, I think for most of us we hold a spot in our hearts and minds where we love to imagine.

As we grow up, we discover that these stories were just made-up tales, but we still love them. Then, as we approach adulthood, we start to fill them out with other things that we’re experiencing in the “real” world. Some of these aren’t so pleasant as well: darkness, unkindness, selfishness, social disorder, and more. The villains become more villainous because we’ve seen more villainy around us.

That also makes us yearn for heroes more and more, I think. It’s like we still want someone to come in and make it right. We still want to believe in justice and kindness, and even love.

And so we need stories.

That’s why we love going to movies, why we watch so much TV, and why we read so many books. Recent years have shown rapid growth in the popularity of the fantasy genre of stories (with all of its subgentres and subsubsubgenres) in popular culture. I really think this ties into our childhood love of fairy tales. Yes, our stories may be more complex, with conflicted heroes and layered villains, and our settings may be grimdark dystopias, but it’s still essentially a fairy tale.

And we love it!

Sense of Adventure

A song by my one of my favorite bands starts:

“Well I get up at seven, yeah

And I go to work at nine

I got no time for living, yeah

I’m working all the time

Seems to me I could live my life

Much better than I think I am

I guess that’s why they call me

Call me the working man!”

-Rush, “Working Man”

I think it captures perfectly the day-to-day drudgery of most of life. Some might have wonderfully exciting and challenging jobs that they love, but even those have their days of dullness.

How do we cope? We try and find ways to escape it in weekend and after hours activities, hobbies, vacations and, of course, stories. Fantasy, as a genre, offers a complete escape. In these stories, we’re inserting ourselves into a whole other world, not just a distant city. We’re discovering new societies and cultures. Like a tourist from halfway around the world, we look around in wonder at the new sights, sounds, and smells. We can forget our own troubles for a bit and be immersed in somewhere else.

A "Safe Place"

And sometimes, we discover that these new places have some problems that are very similar to our own. However, instead of breaking our adventure, that makes us a little more comfortable. We can still relate to the new people we’re meeting because they do have some similarities. 

As we look around in this new space, we can open ourselves up to seeing some of the problems of our own world in a new way. By looking at them in this new world, we can see from a new perspective. Since this new world is, really, just a madeup idea, just “a silly fantasy”, it’s suddenly safe for us to consider what would be a difficult pill to swallow in our own reality.

The fairy tale becomes a way for us to learn about ourselves and grow as individuals and as a society.

So, from the seeds of frivolous imagination, sewn in our childhood, grows into a tree whose roots sink deep into our cultural souls and make us reach higher to the sky as a people. That’s why we love fantasy so much.

218 - The Poetry of Heathrax Dragonfriend

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Many seeds are planted in my garden
Flowers, fruits, and herbs all grow, tangled
They’ve gathered from many lands.
Some have drifted to me with the winds.
They are all now my friends

    - Heathrax Dragonfriend

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217 - “Rise Again” - Tonklyn - A Tale of Heroes

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For two full days, snow had fallen on the mountain, and the canyon winds had funneled the blizzard over the shrine. The terraces, the bridge, the scattered rubble, and the twisted dragon’s body were all covered over in almost two feet of new snow. The bony skeleton of the bridge’s structure underneath held it steady, but the damage from the fight was still evident. The stone debris lay in scattered shambles across the walkway, and the snow, gray in the dim, blended into the charred black stones where the dragon had spit its last flames.

Several of the layered pools along the wall of the canyon had been emptied when the force of the dragon’s body clambering over them crushed the ledges holding the water in place. Without the hot water filling them, the shells were now buried in snow. Jagged stones from the damage stuck up like knives through the snow. The hot springs still flowed, cutting down the side of the mountain in steaming streams, keeping the snow at bay until they faded into the mists in the valley below. Ice flows on either side of the streams dripped in the gray light like blood from daggers. The rising heat of the waters underneath had not yet had time to melt the snow on the bridge, but icicles from that afternoon were starting to dangle from its precipices.

The night weighed heavy on the canyon and the thick darkness of shadow descended. The only sounds were the wooing winds and the haunting mumbled conversations of the springs and falls.

On the bridge near the shrine, a bit of the snow shifted. It crunched a little in the quiet, bumping up a few inches.

Then another piece near it moved, as if a small animal were burrowing under its surface. Then, for a moment, there was an uncertain still again.

Quickly, the snow shook and rustled from side to side with a fiercer motion. A clump of snow rose up, like something was trying to break out from under it into the dark air.

A dark hand burst out. It swung from side to side, sweeping the snow away. It’s motions were jerks and strokes, like its arm below were still frozen and lifeless.

Soon, a second hand emerged and shoved more of the snow aside.

A dark head and torso sat up, and turned over, straining to stand. His face was dark and scaly, and his hair matted and tangled. When he stood, he shook as if his limbs were uncertain of how to be steady. He tossed his cloak to cast off the snow, then bent and reached back into the snow to pull out his spear.

He meticulously began walking across the bridge, stumbling through the snow toward the path down the mountain.


“It will take him a long time to get back here.” Tonklyn said, as he and Kirraxal watched the drama unfold on their shadow stage in the throne room. That’s why Kirraxal wasn’t angry after the battle. It doesn’t matter as much if he’s not so good at fighting. He’ll just wake back up. I wonder how many unlives he has. One more? Two? Maybe he’s undying. 

“True.” Kirraxal agreed. “Maybe I should send him to Emberfire City to wait for you there.”

Maybe. This is an interesting twist that I’ll need to plan for.

“As you command, Your Majesty. As you command.”

<<<>>>

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216 - “Top of the World” - Thissraelle - A Tale of Heroes

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Thissraelle and Eddiwarth stood on the crest of the mountain, in the same spot where they had been with Korr earlier. Hours before? Days before? She couldn’t tell. There seemed to be deeper, fresher snow than there had been then.

The winds blew their cloaks around them, and her hair flew around her hooded face. The sun was sinking low in the western horizon and the sky behind them was turning a dark blue. The mountain below them was covered in a thick blanket of snow dappled in an orange glow; the deep slope behind them was already dark.

She leaned back on him, her head against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around her waist, across her cloak. Life had been a storm of changes in the immediate past. Her father turned out to be not so much of a villain, after all. Dragons had almost killed her, and then the object of her quest turned out to be a dragon. Then, that dragon had agreed to take her on as a student. Her friends, well, they were always there, but now she appreciated them so much more. And Eddiwarth was now her... My what? My friend? My love? There should be a word in between those two. She drew in cold air.

“It’s hard to breathe up here,” she said.

“I always feel that way around you.”

“Really?” She rolled her eyes. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Probably, I’m sad to say.”

She laughed and pressed herself close against him again. “You need to read more poems.”

She let the winds blow around her and watched the sun dip a few degrees lower. She marveled at the beauty of the view stretched out before them. “So, are those the Graemal mountains?” She squinted and pointed slightly to the right of the darkening sun. There was a low line of jagged blue and white bumps on the distant horizon.

“I don’t know. I think that’s another branch of the Emberfire ranges.” He also squinted and shielded his eyes with his hand, then pointed. “Way off over there, more south. Those tiny points might be.”

She looked, too, but the sun was halfway hidden, and the darkness was descending. The few high and wispy clouds were lit with a vivid orange and gray.

“Now that’s breathtaking.” Thissraelle said.

She turned to face Eddiwarth and put her arms around his neck. “Thanks for showing me the beautiful view.” He started to say something, but she hurried to kiss him first.

Then they just embraced tightly and felt each other’s warmth in the darkening cold.

<<<>>>

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215 - "What Is This Thing?” - Granthurg - A Tale of Heroes

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Interludes:

It was snowing again in the Graelmal mountains. Not a fierce, harsh blizzard, just a steady snowfall where millions of flakes quietly float down through the still night air. Even though the city wasn’t high up the slope, nestling in the gentler foothills, it still got a lot of snow each winter.

Winterfest was only a week away, and many celebrations had already been going on. As the long dark of winter nights settled over the city, the Giants of Graemalan had begun hanging their lights and banners. The lights were small shards of gems, tiny oculi, dropped in the bottom of small glass jars. A wire was looped around the neck and it was set dangling over a door or window. Most houses had one or two, the most they could afford, but some of the wealthier families had dozens. They kept the snow in the narrow city streets glowing.

One of these lights shone through the thin curtain of a window onto Granthurg, stretched out long in his bed. He had been glad to get home so many months ago. After several years in the human-run world, it had been nice to not have to stoop in a house, squat on a chair, or curl up on a bed.

His mother and two younger siblings had been thrilled to see him, and had embraced him fiercely when he had surprised them with his arrival. That first dinner home had filled him with joy and melancholy. He missed his father who had passed many years before, and his older brother was away working the river.

He also carried a heavy heart whenever he thought of Thissraelle and Karendle. Every once in a while, he would raise his eyes to the sky and ask The Creator to watch over them.

He turned in his bed. His mattress was soft, but also a bit worn. He felt a familiar discomfort from under the mattress, a rigid stiffness. He knew what it was. He kept it there, hidden, but accessible. Occasionally, he pulled it out and thought about it. He did that tonight. He reached under his arm, under his mattress and grabbed the sheath. Holding it in the cool night air, he unsnapped the strap and drew the blade. The shiny, short white dagger glistened a little in the soft light coming in through the window.

What ARE you?

The point and edge were very sharp. He knew it well. He had pricked his finger on it many times, trying to feel it, to learn its powers. The only time he’d ever been surprised by it was the one moment when he’d used it to fight the drake while thrashing in the river. So many people seemed to want it, even though most people didn’t even know it existed. It frightened him, baffled him, and fascinated him. He wanted to find out about it, its history and function.

You’re a fool, Granthurg. Get rid of it. It will be the death of you.

He slid it back into its sheath and snapped the strap again. He reached under his mattress and replaced it. It wasn’t so comfortable, but that reminded him that it was there. Really, its very existence made him a bit uncomfortable.

He turned back over and resettled his blanket.

Now to just get some sleep.

<<<>>>

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214 - “Last Questions” - Thissraelle - A Tale of Heroes

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“I have more questions.” Thissraelle interjected, as she reached for an apple on the blanket before her.

Heathrax nodded his huge head toward her. “And I have a few for you.”

“Ah. Okay.” She hesitated and sat back. “Go ahead.”

“You told me how you were instructed to find me, but not how you came to actually find me.”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, that’s a long story, too.”

The dragon, with just a bit of sarcasm in his smile, raised his head and flexed the tendrils on his face. He tried to speak with a mocking high female lilt to his voice, “Well, I don’t think we’re going anywhere anytime soon, and time doesn’t seem to matter here, anyway, so...”

Thissraelle rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She began her story with when she met Granthurg and Karendle, telling how they had all battled the slavers in the manor near Dirae. Eddiwarth and Karendle interrupted with their own embellishments and points of view. They talked about their time in the monastery, and the visitation of St Ivarr. They talked about meeting Parith and Korr in the battle at the Cathedral, and spending time in The Vast with the Seekers.

“They said they knew you, that you had helped to found their order.” Thissraelle said to Heathrax.

“Yes, I did.” Heathrax affirmed. “Many years later, I tried to get Jaxil to join, but he was too concerned with the Guild and their machinations in the City.” Jaxil sighed and nodded.

Thissraelle continued, “They told us they thought you were in the Emberfire mountains, so we all began the journey.”

Eddiwarth interjected with a wink at Thissraelle, “We really like your poetry, by the way.”
“My poetry?” The dragon looked surprised.

“Yes, they gave me a book of your poems,” Thissraelle said, “but they never mentioned that you were a dragon. That might have helped us.”

Heathrax laughed again.

“Hey!” Karendle exclaimed to Thissraelle, “Couldn’t they have just portaled us here? If they knew him and all. That would have saved us a lot of trouble.”

Heathrax shook his head. “I have been isolated for many, many years. I don’t believe any of them know where to find me. I’ve been quite content to be alone.”

The story continued. Korr told of the party traveling through the forest, of being attacked, and ending up in TreeHaven. Thissraelle told him about the shrine, and their efforts to find out more about him there.

“That is a remarkable journey.” Heathrax confirmed.

Korr nodded. “My master teaches that all things are connected, and the world is one, a whole, a complete round. Any road that you walk will eventually lead you to where you need to be.”

Heathrax chuckled. “Your master is wise, but he always makes me laugh.”

Thissraelle smiled. Yes, the long road got us here. Who could have foreseen all of this? We had no idea where we were going. She looked at her friends with gratitude. She reached out and took Eddiwarth’s hand, then Karendle’s. Each of them took Korr’s and Parith’s as well. “Thank you all. You each risked so much for me, and I have learned so much from each of you. Thank you.”

Karendle embraced her. “I’m with you, sis. I’m with you!”

Heathrax nodded to them. “This could be why Ivarr came to you.”

Thissraelle sat back. “I don’t understand.” I’ve been saying that a lot in the last few months.

“You said you had been troubled not knowing why you had been given this task. Look around you. Look how you have all become so close, how much you have obviously all grown. You might have thought that the task was to bring me a vitally important message of the dangers in the world, but The Creator is often very involved in helping small changes in the lives of seemingly small people. Sometimes that’s how big things happen.”

Thissraelle looked around at the others and breathed deep.

A thought jumped up in her mind. “I still want to know how you and my father knew to come save us at the shrine. We were all set to die. How did you know to help us in the fight?”

Her father answered, “Well, I was contacted by Heathrax. He told me you were about to be in trouble and told me where. Years and years and years of nothing, not a ‘how do you do’, and suddenly, he’s telling me that my daughter’s about to get killed. I have no idea how he knew.” He looked over at the dragon.

Heathrax exclaimed, “Why, you told me!”

Jaxil frowned. “No, I didn’t.”

“Not you, Jaxil. You didn’t.” Heathrax gestured at Thissraelle. “However, you did.”

“What?” Thissraelle face was twisted in confusion.

“I received a message to my mind that you would be there, and that you urgently need my help. I reached out to your father immediately, then hurried to my portal.”

“But I didn’t know you.. I had no idea how to communicate with you! And how would you know who I was and that I would need your help?”

“Time is funny. It marches along very strangely here in The Vast. You obviously didn’t know me then. But now you do. And someday I imagine you will know how to send me that message.”

Thissraelle took a deep breath, her mind reeling a bit, then slowly bit from the apple she had held in her lap. There was no logical response to that statement. She looked at the blank and surprised faces of the others and had no answer for them, either. “So,” she munched, “what do we do now?”

Her father slowly stood. “You four,” he gestured to all of Thissraelle’s friends, “should rest. You should all come with me to Emberfire City and be honored guests in my home there. Stay for the Winterfest. It is amazing here in the mountains.”

“And what about me?” Thissraelle pressed.

Jaxil sighed deeply. “I can no longer command you as your father. You need not obey me. I hope, however, that you will also come home, at least for a time. Please. If not for me, come to comfort your mother.”

Oh. 

Yes. My Mother. 

That’s going to be an... interesting visit.  

She looked at Karendle with pleading in her eyes. “Maybe we can go on another quest...?”

The End of Part 15, and Story Arc 4

The End of A Tale of Heroes, Book 2: Of Wizards and Dragons

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This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing. If you like this story, support us at our Patreon!
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213 - “The Dragons Stir” - Thissraelle - A Tale of Heroes

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“The dragons stir.” Thissraelle said, sitting on another floating rock. This one was significantly bigger than the others they had been on, with a large flat space some thirty feet across. It was mostly a deep red, but had veins of green and black running through it. “That’s my message for you. I have no idea what it means, but I would really like to know. That’s just what I was told to tell you.”

Heathrax hummed deep in his throat and nodded. He floated in The Vast just a few steps away from the rest of the group, who all relaxed in a semi-circle next to Thissraelle on the stone. Eddiwarth had used his power to start a fire in the middle, more for relaxation and emotional comfort than for warmth or cooking. Thissraelle’s father had retrieved some food from Emberfire, back in The Great Reality, breads and fruits, and it was all spread out at their feet on cloths between each of them and the fire.

“Jaxil?” The old dragon wheezed, “What do you think?”

“It probably has something to do with the Dragon’s Flame.”

“Are they still around?”

“Apparently, and becoming more active.”

Thissraelle interrupted. “Yeah, just who is this Dragon’s Flame group?”

Her father said, “They’re a strange cult that--”

“--that worships dragons, I know that, but who ARE they? Where did they come from? What do they want?”

“Shall I tell you the short version? Or the full story?” Heathrax looked at her with what might have been the draconic equivalent of a smirk.

Thissraelle leaned back, tucked her chin, and raised her brows. “Well, I don’t think we’re going anywhere anytime soon, and time doesn’t matter out here, anyway, so...”

Heathrax growled a chuckle out of his throat, then he coughed. “Excuse me, I’m very old, and not fully well.” he said. “About 400 years ago, when I was a much younger dragon, we ruled the land of Wynne. You’ve probably heard of that time. The great Dragon Kings lived in the western mountains and ruled all of the land. Most of the records of the dragons note that it was a time of great civilization and great learning. Dragons were everywhere.

“Some of us, however, began to feel that using our power and strength to dominate the humans, elves, dwarves, giants, and everyone, was not right. There was a philosophical movement among the dragons toward hominid self-determination and liberty. Since we, as dragons of the ruling class, enjoyed freedom to share our thoughts, even though the people did not, some of us began to speak out. The debate at times became heated, and there were some clashes. At first, they were just clashes of words, but they soon escalated.”

Thissraelle nodded. “Is that why you’re called the DragonFriend?”

“Yes.” Heathrax got a deep, almost nostalgic look on his face. “The elves of the forest first called me that. I rather liked that name.”

“When we were first looking for you, I assumed that it was the name of a man who was a friend to dragons, not the other way around.”

Heathrax smiled and continued, “There were some among the people that were loyal to the dragon kings. For some reason that I will never understand, they believed we were ordained to rule all, by the Creator himself. Then, they took it even further, implying that the Creator had made us dragons to be deities from the beginning, and that since our ancestors had even helped create the world, according to the legends, we should be worshipped.

“Unfortunately, some of us rather liked being worshipped. I always found it oddly awkward.” Heathrax shook his head sadly. “Anyway. Other groups of the people did not believe us to be gods, and instead wanted to overthrow the rule of the dragons. They bounded together into armies and tried to fight, but between the dragons themselves, and the loyalist armies, there was little hope for them. Just a lot of blood. Some dragons were killed, but it was mostly the blood of people, I’m afraid.”

After a moment’s pause, Thissraelle encouraged, “So, how did the reign of the Dragon Kings end? Did you eventually convince the others to allow the people to be free?” She had never really been interested in historical things before, but now found herself fascinated. Granthurg would be loving this talk!

“Oh, no! That was a bizarre twist of fate. Soon after the wars, the dragons were struck with a pox, a disease. It ran through our populace like a grass fire through a meadow. It ravaged us, killing most. Easily two out of every three dragons succumbed. Magic couldn’t cure it, and none of us knew any arts of natural healing. Most of those left were sickly and weak. That was my fate. That is why I still breathe and talk like I do.”

“People in the cities sensed that our rule was weakening, and formed their armies with renewed excitement. What remained of us after the pox were killed or driven from our holds and palaces, scattered away. I flew here to the Emberfire mountains, along with a few others, to establish ourselves in hiding. It was easy enough to do. These mountains are difficult to climb. Others left the land of Wynne entirely.”

Eddiwarth asked, “Are you still dying off?”

“Oh, no. The pox is over. But we are few, and very solitary. Once a year or two we might fly to find a mate and have a small clutch of eggs, but as a group, we have no leader, no society, no way of knowing how many of those hatchlings survive.”

Jaxil picked up the story. “After defeating the dragons, the people fought among themselves for a time, until the Mage kings of the high elves established order and civilization again.”

Parith and Thissraelle exchanged saddened glances.

“So,” Jaxil continued, “the logical conclusion here is that some descendant of one of the old dragons has raised its head, begun to rally the old cult, and stir up trouble. It has happened before.”

Karendle swallowed a bite of bread. “Does this have anything to do with Granthurg and that dagger?”

Heathrax’s head turned quickly, startling Eddiwarth. He dropped his cup with a clatter. Heathrax whispered, “A dagger?”

“Yeah.” Karende went on between bites, “It was short, white, curved, and had a lot of carvings. There was a dragon design cast into the pommel. He said everyone was trying to get it from him.”

The great dragon drew in a breath in wonder. “Yes, in fact, it does have much to do with that. Does he still have it?”

Karendle looked at Thissraelle. “Yeah, I guess so. What is it?”

“It’s a relic I, actually, had hoped had been lost. It was made by human mages in the early days of the uprising, from the tooth of a slain dragon.” Everyone went quiet. “It was legendary, and, after the great pox, helped the humans to kill many dragons. That was its only power, to kill dragons.”

“So, if you happen to worship dragons...” Thissraelle began.

Heathrax inserted, “or if you ARE a dragon...”

“It would be very good to have it in your control.”

<<<>>>

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212 - “Striking Power” - Korr - A Tale of Heroes

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<<<>>>

“Slow, steady breathing. Steady.”

Slow. Steady.

Korr stood on the ridge of the mountain, his feet in a solid square stance. He took in a breath, but the cold and the thinness of the air made that difficult. He looked out across the deep valley floor below. It showed the expanse of Umbrawood, but it was much further beneath him than it had been before. He shifted his feet in the snow through a few forms. He set his arms at his side, his fists turned wrist-up. His eyes were closed. The frigid wind blew past him, billowing his shirt. He tried to ignore the cold.

“Now, shape the sun,” the dragon’s deep and airy voice said to him.

Korr took in another freezing breath and opened his hands. He slowly moved them to a place before his torso, one low, turned upward, and the other above it, palm down.

Shape the sun.

Beside him, Heathrax floated, his long tendrils flowing in the wind. His long tail shifted back and forth, many dozens of feet behind them. Thissraelle and Eddiwarth had come out of The Vast with Korr and stood on his other side, also several paces back, so as not to be a distraction in the lesson.

“Good. Now breathe your will into the su—.” The dragon’s voice choked on the word.

Korr slowly exhaled.

Is it there? I’m not sure if I’m feeling it.

When he was out of breath, he paused, then hung his head and broke his stance with a gasp.

Immediately, Heathrax turned his head away and coughed out in a few loud and deep raspy huffs. “I’m sorry. I tried to hold that in, to not distract you. Try again.”

It’s not the dragon’s fault. I can’t find my will.

He held his arms and shook his feet in the snow, then reset them into his stance. He blew misty fog from his mouth a few times and glanced over at his friends, who just nodded encouragement.

He looked at Heathrax, who nodded. “Set your stance again. Shape the sun, then find your will.”

Korr followed the instructions. He closed his eyes and dropped his mind into the space between his hands.

“Maan Korr, find your will.” Heathrax whispered. “It is your will you must find. Not your Master’s, not mine, not your friends’. You have served everyone else well, but this must be for you. It must be your will. Do you want it?”

I want this. I want to learn it. I want to have it.

He felt a warmth form in his chest.

Yes. I want this. I must learn this. It is my will.

The feeling grew inside him, a warmth deep within. He willed it to flow through his hands and coalesce into the space he’d shaped between his palms. Power and heat formed there, in a small spinning ball of energy. It grew and whirled more fiercely as he channeled more and more will into it.

“Yes. Good. Are you ready?” Heathrax asked with calm.

Korr dropped his right foot back, bending his knees and turning his shoulders and torso to the side. He opened his determined eyes and focused them on a large snowy rock outcropping a short distance along the windy ridge.

He leaned into his forward leg. With a twist of his hips and shoulders he thrust the palms of his hands straight out, throwing the ball of striking power straight at the stone. It hit and exploded, shattering the upper half of the stone into tiny pebbles and a few larger chunks that fell all around them, making impressions in the new fallen snow.

“By the Creator!” Eddiwarth shouted. Thissraelle shrieked and clapped with excitement.

Korr breathed calmly and returned to a resting stance. He turned to Heathrax and bowed. The dragon returned the gesture.

As Korr looked down, he saw one of the broken stones in the snow at his feet. He picked it up and inspected it. It had several fractured facets, delineated by sharp jagged edges. He smiled in satisfaction and closed his fingers around the stone. He was suddenly aware of the cold again, and shivered.

He was almost knocked off balance by Thissraelle grabbing him and hugging him from behind.

<<<>>>

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211 - “Here With Friends” - Karendle - A Tale of Heroes

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<<<>>>

Where did Thissraelle go?

Karendle paced around a tiny, almost round worldlet as it twirled slowly in the vast. It was rocky and uneven, floating nearby to the main stone platform that they had appeared on when they had all first stepped through Heathrax’s portal. There were a lot of these floating chunks of stone all over, and Karendle suspected that they had been gathered there, or created in place more likely, by Heathrax.

Where is she? She was really upset when the fight ended. Then she just flew off.

I get it. By the Creator, those first two dragons were huge. I thought we were all dead. Then she had to deal with her father.

Karendle thought about the first time Thissraelle had talked about her life before they’d met. That night had been back in their dormitory room at the monastery, with DeFrantis. Thissraelle and DeFrantis had giggled and talked like sisters. Karendle had been a little distant, like a neighbor girl that wasn’t quite in the club. It had been strange to hear Thissraelle’s story, though. She’d had it pretty posh there as the daughter of the Twynne Rivers Wizard’s Guildmaster. Karendle had wondered why she’d left that life. Of course, my life in the mountains with my family wasn’t too bad, either. Not as nice as hers, but not bad. But I left it, too. I guess you just have to get out on your own. We really had a lot in common, considering how different we are. 

 I was such a jerk to her, then.

The sight of someone else’s feet in her downturned field of vision startled her, and she stopped walking. Parith was walking around the rock from the other side.

Karendle smiled, “You’re on your feet! You look like you’re doing much better.”

“Yeah. I’m still a bit stiff, though.”

“Well, considering that just a few hours ago, you were almost broken in two, I think you’re in fine shape.”

He smiled back. “Was it just a few hours ago?”

Karendle stepped aside and sat down on a nearby bump of rock. She gestured to Parith, but he shook his hand, saying, “It’s good. For now, I like being able to stand. How’s Thissraelle?”

“Don’t know. She went off alone. Eddiwarth went to look for her, and her father did, too. I should probably go back her up, but... Oh, I don’t know, she's pretty upset.”

“She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

Karendle laughed and dropped her head.

Parith pressed, “No, seriously. I’ve seen you fight for her. You’re relentless. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that kind of loyalty.”

“Really?” She set her head to one side. “Never seen it? What about you? Weren’t you right there, sticking arrows in the dragon? What was that for? It was all for her.” She paused, “And she would do the same for us.”

“You think so? She and I fought quite a bit in the forest.”

“Yeah, well, she and I fought a lot before the cathedral, too. But she came looking for me. She fought for Eddiwarth, and she also helped you fight off the high elves.”

“True. And in the end, saved my life.”

A peaceful silence settled between them.

Finally Parith broke the silence. “These last few months have really changed me. I’ve always worked alone, guiding all the traders back and forth through the forest. I was by myself in the city until I met Korr, then the rest of you. I’ve never been a part of something like this. Heathrax’s Heroes!” He laughed, “It feels strange, and good.”

He took a deep breath and shifted his feet. “It was weird. I was at home in TreeHaven, but I didn’t feel like it. Even when the captains let me visit my family. They asked me to stay there with them, but I felt a pull to follow Korr and the rest of you.”

“Yeah. I know it,” Karendle agreed. “I keep feeling like, at some point, we’ll figure out what’s going on beyond us, though. What’s with the dragons, right? I have this sense that something is happening out in the bigger world and we’re just walking right past it.”

“Or maybe I just want to watch Eddiwarth embarrass himself trying to impress Thissraelle more.”

Karendle laughed and leaned back. Suddenly her thought jumped to her voice. “Hey, where’s the little drake?”

Parith took a sharp breath and looked away.

What? What did I say? Wait... Did the dragon...? “Oh, no! No. I didn’t see...”

Parith just nodded.

“I am so sorry...”

Parith shrugged. Or was that his shoulders shaking? Karendle jumped up and embraced him.

“I’m so sorry...”

<<<>>>

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210 - “Her Father’s Words” - Thissraelle - A Tale of Heroes

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<<<>>>

The two young wizards looked at each other, then sat down. Thissraelle took Eddiwarth’s hand again, squeezing it hard as if asking for support. Eddiwarth’s face clearly showed his fear of his old Guildmaster, but he returned the gesture nonetheless.

“The first question, that of why I ordered the attack on the Cathedrals, is easy to answer- I didn’t.” He leaned back and crossed his legs under his robe in a way that said that this was going to take some time. “When the attack started, I was as surprised as everyone else, although, as I looked back on it, I shouldn’t have been. I was horrified at the thought of our guild members doing such a brazen onslaught. I was especially terrified because I was certain you had been there, and I heard nothing for weeks afterward."

He sighed. “The weeks that followed were tumultuous. The public and the King turned against us. The Church was decimated. Most of its bishops were killed. And all through that I was afraid that you had been, too. I kept trying to find you. I was also under a lot of pressure to find out who in the guild had been involved. I guess I took too long, because the next thing I knew, the King’s Guard raided the Guild Hall. We were all driven underground. Your mother and several others fled to Emberfire, and I followed soon after. It was there that I received an anonymous message that you were well, but it didn’t say where you were.”

“So you didn’t order the strike?” Thissraelle asked, “But the wizards controlling the drakes wore guild robes and guild colors! Who did it?”

“I’m not entirely sure. But while I convalesced in Emberfire, I had a lot of time to think. There is a group, a church, they call it, named ‘The Dragon’s Flame’. I gathered that they worship dragons.” Thissraelle nodded. “Ah. You’ve heard of them. In recent years, I had been told of them recruiting guild member wizards for their cause. Even though I strictly forbade it, just like those Seekers, I imagine there were many who joined. There were also some guild members who, I suspect, were captured and pressed into their organization. I’m almost certain they are the ones that burned the churches.”

Hmm. That could fit. Thissraelle began to feel the tension in her shoulders ease. Her back relaxed and her grip on Eddiwarth’s hand was not so tight. “It was the Dragon’s Flame that attacked us in the forest as well. Did you send the high elf soldiers to capture me?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “High elf soldiers? I don’t know anything about this. Where did it happen?”

“Umbrawood. They attacked wood elven patrols deep in the forest. The wood elves say that Emberfire is amassing soldiers at the foot of the mountains.”

“Flaming stones. That’s not good news. The city is closed up tight, and everyone seems to be afraid of the rest of the world, even more so after the troubles in Twynne Rivers. I had hoped that things would ease with time.”

“Then, what about the quest?”

Again, he wore confusion on his wrinkles. “The quest?”

“Don’t you know about that, either? Didn’t you send illusions to my dreams, someone telling me to find Heathrax?” Her voice was calmer, now, but still carried an edge of harshness.

“Illusions?”

“Visons! Visitations from St. Ivarr? He came to me and told me to find Heathrax. He wasn’t very clear about it, either. He didn’t say why or how to find him. Just ‘go find him’. It might have occurred to him to mention that Heathrax is not a man, but a dragon. That would have been helpful.”

“Honestly, my dear, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’d better take that up with the dragon himself. I sent you on no quest. Actually, it was Heathrax that told me you were about to be in danger on the mountain.”

“What? How did he know I was there?”

“Again, you’ll have to ask him.”

Thissraelle slumped. “And you haven’t been trying to catch me and drag me back home?”

“Oh, my dear, dear child, what a year you’ve put us through.” He sighed and leaned back in the stone chair. His hand ran through his long white hair. “When you first left, I was sure that the Dragon’s Flame had captured you. I was furious! Your mother was beside herself with hysteria. But it only took a few hours the next day to find you in the city.

“I always knew that at some point you’d want to get out on your own. To be honest, I wanted that for you, too. At the time, I figured that you’d wander through the city and come running back in a few days, happy to be home.”

Thissraelle remembered the dimensional oculus and all that he had done to keep her in the tower, under his control. That was a test!

“I underestimated you. I kept my eye on you, though.” He smiled at her expression of sudden understanding. “Your mother was furious. I tried to explain to her that you would be fine and you would be back soon. After a few days of blame and hostility, I acquiesced to her and agreed to send some of the guild’s finest wizards to retrieve you.”

“That was him?” She said, pointing at Eddiwarth. He smiled.

“Yes. Well, sort of. I didn’t pick him. He and another novice just volunteered. They were first year students. I didn’t expect him to catch you. I didn’t really want him to catch you. But I had to appease your mother. Still, I kept spotting you and getting reports, so I knew where you were, most of the time. I heard what you did in Dirae.” He hesitated and got quiet. “I was... quite proud of you.”

Thissraelle’s heart fell deep. Proud of me? For so long I’ve been afraid of you! You’re... proud of me?

He wiped his eyes. “Many times I lost track of you. When I heard the cathedral was attacked, and that you had been there, I tried so many times to scan the burned out ruin. The city was so angry, I didn’t dare step out of the guild hall. I was so afraid for you.” His shoulders shook.

Thissraelle jumped to her feet and leapt across the gap between them. She landed on his chest and held him tight. She buried her face in his embrace and sobbed. All of her struggles and her fears were melting away into tears in his arms.

“Now look at you. You’re so strong, powerful. You’ve come so far. You’re not my little girl anymore.”

Yes, I am. I hope I never outgrow that.

<<<>>>

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209 - “Her Father” - Thissraelle - A Tale of Heroes

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<<<>>>

Thissraelle sat on a rock.

She was alone. The rock was cold, and hard, and uncomfortable, but that kind of fit her mood. The familiar dark and empty chill of The Vast surrounded her, but she paid no attention to any of it.

What was that old man thinking? He sends me off on a false quest just to trap me and send me home. But our home is gone! The Guild Hall was razed by an angry army! How could he not know it would happen that way when he ordered the attack on the cathedral? 

She hugged her knees tightly and swayed gently from side to side.

And all the suffering! How many were killed? And how many more in the aftermath?

Above her was empty darkness filled with enormous colored clouds. It all rotated, not so slowly, in her sky space as the round rock she was sitting on tumbled along. It wasn’t large, at all, not like a moon or a floating mountain or even a terrace. It was just big enough to sit on, to hide on, and to get away from everyone else for a while.

Especially her father.

It just doesn’t make sense! And the whole thing with St. Ivarr! How did he project that illusion into my head? That’s a lot of strange effort just to get me home.

And why not just have Ivarr tell me to go home? Why the big long quest? Why the danger? I almost got all of my friends killed. I was supposed to lead them, right? “The strongest leader is better the servant...” Some leader I am. Not much of a servant either.

After the battle, her father and Heathrax had gathered everyone together, and they had flown away to one of the Dragonspine peaks. There, Heathrax had shown them the portal point that he used to get to his home in The Vast. Her father had tried to embrace her, to talk to her, but she had just raged at him.

Thissraelle’s mind had been clouded with confusion, anger, and sadness. As soon as she had seen that they were in The Vast, she had jumped onto a stone drifting nearby and pushed away. She hadn’t wanted to leave her friends, but they didn’t seem to be in immediate danger, and she had needed to get away.

Far away.

I need to think.

But I don’t want to think. I can’t figure it all out! It’s not adding up!

She sighed and buried her face between her knees.

When she raised her eyes again, she saw Eddiwarth floating in the space before her. She furrowed her brows, frustrated that he was disturbing her sulk. Still, she tilted her head to her right shoulder to match the angle of his body. He sat on an oddly curved stone dish, but he was turned on his side in the air, as if gravity were working differently for him. Gradually, as her own rock turned, he seemed to go fully upside down.

"So," he said, with hesitation. "You mad at me?"

She adjusted her head the other way as he continued rotating. He went on, "Parith and Korr are OK, I think. Korr didn't waste any time delivering his message once he recovered. He and Heathrax are talking away about his master."

She cut in, "What are you riding on?"

"I don't know. It’s rock, I guess. Do you want one?"

"Where did you find it?"

"I made it. It seems you can make a lot of cool stuff in The Vast if you want to."

She laughed quietly. "So, you have access to all the immense power of the infinite Vast, and you use it to fly upside-down in a stir-fry pan?"

Eddiwarth considered this. "No. I used all that power just to make you smile."

She smiled. "Actually, you're making me dizzy." She held out her arms. "Get over here."

Eddiwarth jumped off the stone plate and sent it spinning away. As soon as he floated to her outstretched arms, he twisted with the new gravity pull of her rock and tumbled into her, knocking her over. She laughed and pushed him aside. He started to drift away, but reached out and grabbed her foot and pulled himself back.

Thissraelle took hold of his other arm and pulled him into an embrace, then a kiss. He settled onto the rock beside her and held her close.

She whispered, "Oh, what's going to happen?"

He shrugged. "All I know is that we're all safe, for the moment, and I'm here with you."

“Does everyone hate me?”

Eddiwarth pulled his head back and gave her a look of surprise and confusion.

"Young novice," a deep and quiet voice interrupted. It carried authority, but was not demanding. Thissraelle tensed. "Would you allow me to speak with my daughter?” Over Eddiwarth's shoulder, she saw her father floating in the void a few feet before her. His arms were crossed in front of the dark robe he wore and his feet dangled in the open air below him.

In a rush, Eddiwarth disentangled himself and stood. Just as quickly, Thissraelle snatched his hand and held it firm. "He will stay." Her voice was terse and determined. The eyes narrowed on her father's face. Eddiwarth sucked in a deep breath.

The silence between them seemed to echo though The Vast as they exchanged stares. Finally, Thissraelle’s father dropped his gaze. “I know it seems strange to hear me say this, but most of all, I want you to know that I am happy to see you well.”

“Well?” Thissraelle shouted, eyes blazing, “Do you call this ‘well’? I am definitely not well!” He raised his hands defensively, but she went on, “We just almost got killed in your little trap!”

His eyes flared open. “My trap?”

“Yes!” she shouted, “And what about all those that were killed by your patrols in the forest? Or killed in the cathedrals?”

“Hold on, hold on...”

“No! I will not ‘hold on’!” Her voice trembled, “How could you? How could you burn them down? Was the Church that much of a problem for you? Did you just want to take them down a notch? You were always hard on them, but that’s no reason to destroy them! Please just tell me why?”

“Cathedrals? Patrols in the forest? My dear, dear child...”

“You will answer me!” She noticed she was standing and pointing. She dropped her hand and stood defiant.

He took a deep breath. “I see there is so much to explain. Perhaps we should all sit down.” He waived his hands and a small boulder spun to him from beyond the rock Thissraelle was on. With a few motions, he shaped it into a crude seat and placed it underneath him.

“Please.” He gestured for Thissraelle and Eddiwarth to relax on their rock.

<<<>>>

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208 - “Ending the Fight” - Thissraelle - A Tale of Heroes

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<<<>>>

Thissraelle collapsed, exhausted, leaning against the fallen pillar. Noise and chaos swarmed around her. She leaned forward and sobbed into her hands.

I’ve killed us all.

What was I thinking? The acrid smoke of the burning around her made her cough. The bridge shook again.

Oh, let’s all take a stroll through the forest. Then we can have a nice picnic in the mountains! I’ve brought them all here to die!

Killed by my own father! Maybe. I don’t know!

It doesn’t matter. Let him take me. Let him kill me. It doesn’t matter, now.

She stood and began walking back along the bridge toward her father. Her companions still fought the green dragon, and it roared and cursed. The flames around her weren’t burning as hot, now, but thin smoke still flowed upward. She coughed. Through the heated air and curling smoke, she could see the wavy image of her father. The great red dragon lay sprawled beside him, broken and distorted.

“Thissraelle, stop!” He called out to her. “Get down!”

Thissraelle kept walking.

“Thissraelle! Get away!”

No. Come take me. Nothing here matters any more. Take me away and let my friends go.

She felt the heat from the ever nearer flames begin to burn on her legs. It was painful, but she kept walking. I am in control. I can choose where I go.

“Thissraelle! STOP!”

A cold whistling wind rushed down from the upper reaches of the canyon, blowing her hair into her face. The chill air also chased away the smoke stinging her tear-stained cheeks. The flames in front of her crackled and sputtered from the rushing. She stopped and looked above her.

A gigantic dragon head followed the wind, flying past her, above the snarling green dragon. Its body followed, snaking and slithering through the canyon air. It was larger than anything she had ever seen, even the eel whales. Its curving body was mostly gray flecked in white, with long white tendrils hanging off its chin, ears and arms, streaming out beside it like banners in a parade. It had tall white spikes along its spine, and though it had wings, even large ones, they remained folded across its back. It circled and flowed through the wind as if held up by deep magic.

The green dragon growled out a threatening roar and launched up into the air before the end of the gray dragon’s tail had even fully passed. The green dragon arched over the bridge and flew straight toward the larger dragon’s head, shouting words that Thissraelle couldn’t understand. They echoed through the canyon, and she dropped to her knees. Eddiwarth crawled over to her.

The gray dragon doubled back toward the bridge, coming up on the other side of the canyon. Its body continued on as if the neck had looped around a giant tree trunk. The green dragon looked much smaller by comparison, like the big drakes at the cathedral would have sized up next to it. Still, the smaller dragon didn’t look at all afraid. It rushed at the larger creature with its claws bared and blowing toxic green gas in a column from its throat.

The gray dragon raised up its head and neck into an S-shaped curve, and unfolded its wings. It threw them forward, three times, and the waves summoned up a cyclone of wind like Thissraelle had never felt before. She huddled down below a fallen pillar with Eddiwarth and Parith to keep from being blown off the bridge. The green dragon didn’t fare so well, losing its stability. It tumbled up the canyon and slammed into the pools on the far side. Steaming water gushed out of the broken pool around the dragon’s legs and tail.

The gray beast pointed its talons toward the green dragon and launched forth bolts of light which exploded in brightness on the green dragon’s tumbling form. It scrambled to try and get a footing on the rock wall, but the stones and pools just crumbled beneath him, washing him further downward. Its wings flailed at the air, but could not get enough force to help it up.

Thissraelle looked back at the gray dragon, her jaw slack, but unable to scream. It looked majestic and calm. Its tail now curled and flowed beneath it as it floated in the air, the wind making its many tendrils flap. It closed its eyes. The heated waters of the springs spouted up from the pools and the streams in the mountainside and flowed over the green dragon. The gray dragon slowly snaked forward, over the heads of the awestruck party, toward its opponent. The gray dragon opened its giant mouth and breathed frosted icy fog onto the green dragon. It shivered as the water froze instantly on its scaly skin, layering on thicker and thicker. Finally, its green eyes glossed over, and its stiff form tumbled down into the misty chasm below.

Satisfied, the great gray dragon turned its head upward, then snaked back down to the bridge. It crossed the bridge, and paused over Thissraelle and her friends. Thissraelle gazed up, her heart pounding in a strange mix of total terror and awestruck worship. Eddiwarth scooted back on his elbows, trying to get between her and the looming beast.

Something moved in the space beside her, and she jolted to look. It was her father. He was calm and unafraid as he approached the dragon.

The dragon’s face shifted, almost as if it were somehow smiling, and it dipped its head briefly. It spoke in a raspy voice, “Hello, Jaxil, old friend.”

Her father smiled and returned the bow. “Blessings to you, Heathrax. It’s nice to see you again.”

<<<>>>

This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing. If you like this story, support us at our Patreon!
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207 - “The Brave Little Drake” - Parith - A Tale of Heroes

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<<<>>>

When Parith opened his eyes, the pain that wracked his entire body made him close them tight again. He tried to move but that hurt even more.

My arm. I can’t move my arm. He reached up with the other hand, but found nothing in the air above him. He felt a strange disorientation mixed with the hurting. I’m upside down. Something is scratching my face. When he heard the little drake’s familiar trilling, he turned his head and opened his eyes. The drakeling squawked and began licking his face. From somewhere farther away, he could hear explosions.

The cold stone of the bridge beneath him shook as the big green dragon took another step toward him. Aw, stones, this isn’t over yet?

He shifted his head a little and pain shot down through his back and legs. He saw Thissraelle’s worried face appear over him. He smiled. “Hey. Miss Healer. You gonna patch me up?”

She didn’t smile back. She covered her face in her hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing, or what’s going on. My father-- the dragons--“ She looked at him again. “You’re really hurt.”

“Am I that bad?”

“I’m going to have to try and get you down off this debris. Can you move?”

He tried to rise up, but could only move his head and arm. Pain overwhelmed him and he dropped back down. The drake nuzzled him, cooing timidly.

She sighed, “I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

He could hear more growling, shouting and exploding and it all seemed so distant, like it was happening in a room down the hall. The bridge shook again. Thissraelle moved back and raised her hands. A faint blue light formed around him, and she lifted him up and eased him flat on the ground. He shouted and winced.

“Sorry! Sorry! I think you’ve got some broken bones. I’ve never tried to heal anything like this. It’s going to take a lot of will.”

“Where’s Korr? And Eddiwarth?” Where am I? Oh, yeah. The shrine... He reached out with his good hand and touched her arm. “Thank you. You’re so good.”

“What?” She was distracted.

 He could only whisper, now. “Whenever things go bad, you’re the first one there to try and fix it. I need to be more like you.”

The dragon’s back leg landed only a few feet from him with a heavy thud and a shake, and Thissraelle screamed. The drakeling shrieked and jumped up onto Parith’s chest, launching itself into the air. Parith coughed with pain.

What’s he doing? Come back here!

They both watched the drake fly up and circle the huge dragon’s neck and head, drawing its attention. The dragon snaked its smoking head back and forth, snapping at the little pest, swinging its large forelegs, and trying to smack it down. Hot drips of flaming drool splattered down around them all.

“Drakie!” Parith wheezed, trying to shout, “Get back here!”

The side of the dragon’s sweeping head struck the drake as it tried to dive under it. The impact dazed it and knocked it upward in the air for only a moment. It flailed about, shrieking, while it tried to twist and regain control of its flight, but one of its wings didn’t respond and the little beast tumbled down. As it fell, the dragon grabbed it in its flaming mouth and bit down hard.

Parith reached out, trying to get up. “Drake!”

Thissraelle screamed again. The dragon shook its head back and forth, crushing the little drake.  It spit out the tiny body onto the bridge floor with a burning splat.

“Drake!” Horror filled Parith’s mind. He barely saw Eddiwarth and Karendle rushing to engage the big dragon, trying to draw it away from Parith and Thissraelle. “No! Save the drake!”

Thissraelle put her hands on Parith. He could feel her summoning her will. “No!” He gasped, “Don’t heal me! Heal Drakie! Save him!” He grabbed her wrist and tried to move her hand away, but he was too weak.

Thissraelle’s shoulders shook. Her tears fell on Parith’s arm. He felt the light swell in her and flow into his broken body. Then, his vision clouded in brightness.

<<<>>>

This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing. If you like this story, support us at our Patreon!
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206 - “Breaking Reality?” - Eddiwarth - A Tale of Heroes

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Eddiwarth flew out over the canyon floor, circling away from the bridge, held aloft by blasts of fire pulsing downward from his fists. From that vantage point, he could see the entire battle’s overwhelming chaos. Flames and smoke billowed from his left, sweeping across the bridge. Pillars had fallen, and huge chunks of the bridge edge had broken off from the impact of the dragon’s feet.

He saw the green dragon on the bridge striking at Parith. It smashed its front foot down on the stone bridge as Parith shot his bow and jumped away. Parith scrambled along the edge of the bridge, jumping over the rubble. Eddiwarth could see two or three arrows sticking out of the dragon’s long neck, like needles in a pincushion. It was bleeding, but not much. How are we going to kill this thing?

Beyond the green dragon, Korr was fighting the man in the black cloak. Farther away, clinging precariously to the crumbled edge of one of the water pools on the opposite wall of the canyon, the red dragon sat and growled. It snaked its head from side to side, looking back toward Thissraelle’s father. “Go-o!” it growled. “Go and brrinng him to uss!”

Thissraelle flew up from below on the far side of the bridge. She brought Karendle flying alongside her,  a little lower. Thissraelle pointed, and floated Karendle over to the bridge. As soon as Karendle set foot down, she drew her sword and rushed toward the fight.

The red dragon’s head followed Thissraelle as she flew, and began coughing and churning up its fiery guts. A foul-smelling goo drooled from deep inside his mouth, bursting into flame as soon as it came to air and dribbled off the dragon’s jaw. Its stomach churned, it’s neck flexed, and it’s jaw opened wide.

It’s gonna flame! “Thissraelle!” Eddiwarth leaned and rushed toward her.

Thissraelle saw him and spun in the air. The dragon’s neck pushed its head forward toward her, smoking jaw open. “Get away!” Eddiwarth shouted.

Before she could move, A point of gray energy flew past her, toward the dragon. As it cut the air, it left waves of distorted reality in its wake like the reflections in a pond following a skipped stone. It struck the dragon and exploded, in a way. The dragon looked for an instant like it had been painted on layers of glass, and each layer had been shattered and badly reassembled. Then, in another instant, the panes were put together a different way, but still wrong. The dragon screamed a horrific noise, retching broken streams of fire all around him.

Then just as suddenly, the shards of reality reformed. The dragon shook its head. Eddiwarth saw that its movements were strained, like its bones weren’t quite lined up the same as it had been before. Its neck wasn’t as smooth and fluid, and its wings not as straight. One of its forelegs now protruded from the front of its chest.

It roared again, but it was a strange sound, like its voice came from somewhere else. Its angry eyes fixed on the lone wizard at the far end of the bridge.

A loud voice called out from that terrace. “That’s right! Come and get me! You leave her be!” Eddiwarth startled. That’s Thissraelle’s father? He and Thissraelle both looked in surprise. Her father stood steady and firm where he had before but the world around him seemed to be quaking. He began striding toward the dragon, stepping out onto nothing as if he were walking on solid ground.

The dragon leapt from the pool on the canyon wall and flew at him an awkward jagged path. It spewed its pent-up flames before it at the old man. The wizard waved his hands and the burning retch flew through him as if he weren’t there. The dragon landed on the bridge with a solid crunch.

“What is my father doing?” Thissraelle’s voice beside Eddiwarth startled him.

“I don’t know. I thought you were going to be fried alive!”

Eddiwarth’s eyes were drawn to the bridge just as the green dragon there growled and stomped the stone. It swung its arm before it, catching Parith in the sweep and sending him tumbling and sprawling across the bridge. When he stopped, draped over a broken pillar, he didn’t move.

“No!” Eddiwarth shouted.

“I’ll help him! You draw the dragon!” Thissraelle shot down toward Parith.

Eddiwarth swallowed his fear, and let anger and rage welled up in its place. He flew at the dragon, throwing blasts of fire from his hands, one after the other. The blasts hit the beast, exploding on his neck and chest. Using the flame of his hands as weapons turned his focus away from the flight, however, and he tumbled down, twisting to try and brace for the fall. He crashed hard onto the dragon’s side. Dazed, he landed on the stone of the walkway.

<<<>>>

This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing. If you like this story, support us at our Patreon!
Thank you: Chet Cox, Genevieve Springer!

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205 - “Visions in Smoke” - Tonklyn - A Tale of Heroes

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“You are defeated! End this fight!” The odd warrior’s voice echoed through the dim of Kirraxal’s throne room. The great black dragon lounged on the rich plush padding on his stone dais. As always, Tonklyn stood beside him, along with the everpresent watch of the dragonbonded guard.

Before them swirled a foggy mist of blackness that moved and shifted into shapes. Like ghostly actors on a haunted stage, the mist played out the vision of the distant dragonbonded soldier, the one that Kirraxal had tasked with finding the dragon friend, Giatrice.

At the moment, the soldier was lying on his back and his view was staring up the threatening shaft of his own spear, now held at his throat.

This man fights strangely, attacking with only his bare hands and feet. And yet he’s defeated our armed soldier! The downed figure squirmed, then his hand shot forward. A dark dagger flashed in the sunlight, sticking deep into the abdomen of the opponent. The man reacted in pain, then leaned into the spear, thrusting it forward. The vision before them lurched and went dark, then dissipated into smoke.

The room fell silent.

Tonklyn hesitated, unsure how Kirraxal would react.

The dragon only harrumphed out some smoke, then raised his head up. Finally, he spoke. “Well, I had hoped that one of those dragons would have been able to draw out the dragonfriend. No matter.”

Tonklyn nodded. No raging fury today. Good. “Maybe Giatrice was one of the party there at the shrine. Maybehe’s the old man standing there behind them.”

Kirraxal nodded. He stretched his neck out, wrapping it around his body and settling his head. “He will yet be found. Leave me, now.”

As Tonklyn bowed, Kirraxal added. “These two dragons have served me well. Soon, when you go to speak with them, we’ll offer them high places in my kingdom. Especially Gerixain.”

Tonklyn raised up. “Is he the large greenish one?”

“No,” Kirraxal corrected, “she is.”

Tonklyn smirked, nodded, and stepped away.

<<<>>>

This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing. If you like this story, support us at our Patreon!
Thank you: Chet Cox, Genevieve Springer!

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