Level 1 Characters Are Crazy, Or Fortune Favors The Stupid

A brand new character sheet, is there anything better?  So much potential, adventures yet to be had, evil yet to be slain, a veritable blank slate.  A thing like that really goes to player’s heads.  With all those hopes and dreams freshly dreamt it’s easy to forget that right now you are a plebeian. This is a story about one of those times.

We have been walking FOR.EVE.ER. I need a break.  Those random wolves were pretty vicious and I want a nappy-nap.  I do look pretty fierce though, sun shining off my scales and shit.  Yup, I’m a pimp.  Seriously, this walking.  It’s time for a beer break at least.

Ooh, look – is that a town?  Crap, is that a town WITH SMOKE BILLOWING FROM IT?  Damn it! I bet all the beer is gone.  I bet it’s brigands.  Effing beer-hating brigands. Anyone who wastes beer is evil as hell, these punks are going down.

“You guys see that? I bet it’s brigands.” I say, in a deep rumble like the glorious copper Dragonborn Barbarian that I am.

“I HATE brigands!” says Abesentia, the bronze dragonborn rogue.

“WE KNOW!” chime Gesh and Arum, the gold dragonborn warlock.

A shadow passes overhead, COMPLETELY unperceived.

We hustle toward the smoke engulfed village. Looks like the damn dirty scoundrels are attacking the South gate. Not a one of us wonders why the interior village is on fire if the brigands are out here.

ATTAAAAAAAAACk! Bam, pow, thwack! Dead. Awesome. We are SO awesome.  We are the BEST adventurers ever.

Knock, knock, dear town we saved.  What’s up?

“Oh bless you!” the gate keeper opens the gate and ushers us in.  The mayor greets us, scared, with big eyes.  “Are you here to help?” he asks.  “We just did,” says Arum.  “They were just dividing our defenses, look!” as he points to the sky to the North.

We climb the stairs to the top of the wall.  Well crap.  A freaking legion of brigands, and what is that?  Is that… no.  IS THAT A DRAGON?  A freaking blue dragon.  Flying plain as you please over the brigands and casually attacking the wall on the way by.  Yay? Surely this can’t go wrong.

“He’s making another pass” says random yabo on the wall.  We can’t reach the brigands on the ground but the dragon, he’s making passes within range.  One round, then another of plink, plink with arcane blasts, javelins, hand axes.  Turns out dragon scales are hard.  Like, legit hard.

Ok, third pass.  “Hey, Abesentia…” as I gesture toward the dragon.  Her eyes light up.  Blue dragons are the brigands of the dragon world you see.  Awesome.  She holds her action till she can sidle up beside me.  I easily heft her to waist height, her tucked into a compact form, grabbing her knees. Then like a herculean Olympiad, I move back to give myself a few steps of room to follow through and “ungh!” I fling my new adventure mate at an adult blue dragon with critical accuracy.  She lands on its back between the wings and proceeds to chip and pry at a single scale the size or her torso.  A few more passes and a few more plinks and success! She get the scale in her grip and rips it from the dragons flesh, like the world’s largest hangnail. The exposed patch of skin is skewered relentlessly with all the blades Abesentia can produce.

Arum and I can’t tell if the dragon gives a good Bahamut’s  damn about us, but it does seem to be pretty perturbed by Abesentia.  Its loops are getting more erratic and it looks like it’s gearing up for a barrel roll.  Oh crap.  They are so high up!

I have one javelin left.  What am I going to do…  ok here’s a chain for hefting things up to the wall.  Ok.  Affix the chain to the javelin and (don’t miss, don’t miss, don’t miss, don’t miss) YES!  I AM A GOD! The javelin and chain land a few feet below Abesentia.  She clutches her scale prize tightly to her chest with one arm and steadies herself with the other.  She slides down the dragon’s side to the javelin.  As the dragon banks to head back North, the javelin dislodges with Abesentia attached.  This was a bad plan.  Well, there is more chain than there is height from the ground.  Uh… uh.  Ok, I jump off the wall backwards, tightly gripping the chain.  I land hard and hear a squishy thud on the other side of the wall.  Oh no. No.  I killed my new adventure mate.  I just know it.

The dragon retreats.  DAMN RIGHT!  Hahahaha. We are the BEST. As the dragon disengages the brigands run like little bitches.  They are far enough from the base of the wall that I can go collect what I expect to be the gibbs of Abesentia.  (What did I DO?!)

Wait, Waaaaaaaaaaait.  She’s just unconscious!  Amazeballs!  Ok, a healer.  I need to get her inside to a healer.  Right, the scale. I grab it too and hurry her inside the wall.  Some hippy-dippy lady that smells vaguely of cumblecake keeps watch over her.

We sleep.  Dear gods, we sleep.

When we wake the Mayor is all smiles and thanks.  The village folk are grateful and welcoming.  But what of Abesentia?

The door to the hovel she’d been recuperating in busts open and a dragonborn steps out looking like a badass goddess, dirty and bruised, but stunning non-the-less.  The best part?  She’s adorned with a new blue scale mask.  I guess she woke up before we did. Women are crafty like that.

We are so awesome we need a name.  What should we call ourselves?  Haha,  “Scales of Glory” bitches.  That’s right.  (as everyone hums blaze of glory, because holy shit we shouldn’t have survived that.)

Now where in the hell is my beer?