3282/Killin' Dragons For Fun And Loot II

Killin' Dragons For Fun And Loot II
Date of Scene:	27 October 2015
Location:	The Great Mountains
Synopsis:	Mordred calls upon people wanting to murder dragons for fun, profit and loot! A second time!
Cast of Characters:	12, 88, 650, 679, 756, 760, 788, 789

---

Mordred (12) has posed:
    As with last time, those who answer the call of ADVENTURE come through an artificial Warp Gate, a great golden arc covered in runes, gems and magical foci, set at the edge of a massive stone balcony, carved in the side of a mountain that would put Mt. Everest to shame a few times over. This isn't the same balcony as last time-- that one is a few miles away, visible in the side of the mountain. It appears to have been demolished, the doorway into the mountain collapsed in, and the Warp Gate removed. This one hasn't been, though!

    Waiting by it is MORDRED, the Saber-class Servant, armored in thick silver and red full plate, unarmed, and without her helmet. The blonde swordswoman is chewing on a ham sandwich, waiting patiently. In her other hand is a stack of PAPER, bounties and wanted notices, at a glance.

    Ahead is a massive door easily a hundred foot tall, round and covered in magical sigils. It is slightly open, enough for two people to pass side-to-side, though that might as well be considered closed by those who live in there.

    Supernatural senses of all sorts go off like Christmas trees around here; whether it's corruption, holy magic, just magic, some radiation, lots of heat, and in some areas some cold, there's pretty much a bit of everything in there somewhere.

    The Rookery is visible at the base of a nearby mountain, Confederate flags hanging in the air, occasional Union parties venturing in but rarely out.

Shin Tokuyama (756) has posed:
    HEY MORDRED WATCH OUT!

    Almost as soon as he emerges from the Warp Gate, Shin is throwing a roundhouse kick right at Mordred's head. Fortunately for Mordred, she's still got a ton of combat experience and power above his capability, so it'd be literally trivial for her to dodge it. That doesn't mean he isn't gonna make her stay on her feet.

    "Yo mamacita. What's the haps? I'm out here for another round of faffing and dragon killin'."

    Shin asks as he lands again and adjusts the suit he's wearing.

Ivraala (679) has posed:
    Defeating troublesome wildlife is not something below the paygrade of a wandering Death Knight looking for some income. A few scattered board postings have been enough to draw Ivraala's attention, all the way to the artificial warp gate where it all leads.

    The draenei rides astride her Deathcharger mount, tail curled up on her lap and greataxe resting on her back. Her armored hood is over her face, sweeping horns poking almost fully through convenient holes in the sides so that she can remain shrouded beneath the cowl.

    The Death Knight trots up to loom near Mordred and Shin, giving the former a steady, frosty stare, while offering a vaguely more friendly nod of acknowledgement to the latter. "Greetings. I guess I'm not the only one who saw some postings, am I?"

Noa Nuquerna (788) has posed:
     There are people who go out into the world, seeking excitement, treasure, and all that which lies in between. These people, who dare in the face of danger, who laugh triumph and share pain over the fires of camps and inns, are known as ADVENTURERS.

     But ADVENTURERS need an opposite. ADVENTURERS need something to strive against, something to generate the excitement they desire. ADVENTURERS need somebody to burn down the hometown to get them started, a threat to push them into action. ADVENTURERS need an ADVERSARY.

     The elf with the black chicken on his head intends to be that adversary to a certain group of adventurers.

     Noa Nuquerna is that elf. Dressed a black cape, a trenchcoat, partial armor pads, black leather pants, and a pair of belts - one bandolier-style, one normal that reads FREEDOM - Noa looks every inch the part of a wannabe JRPG villain. On his head rides a black chicken whose mere glare appears to be filled with a hate so profound, if weaponized, it could possibly become a killing tool of immense potential. He carries no weapons, though the bandolier-belt appears to be kind of...spiky.

     Noa looks around at the mountains thoughtfully. As an elf it is his job to appreciate Nature, and he has frequently considered taking the WRATH OF NATURE villain aspect as one to play up. He holds up a hand at Shin, Mordred, and Ivraala as he arrives.

     "Sup. Noa. The monster on my head is Number One. Beware, he hides a terrible power."

     The cucco - it is a cucco, and not a chicken, upon further inspection - caws menacingly.

     "We're here to beat up dragons and see what falls out, and possibly bathe in and-or drink their blood depending on how nasty it looks."

Eiko (650) has posed:
    The lanky young Japanese woman that is Kono Eiko is made only marginally less skinny-looking by the navy blue trenchcoat she's wearing. Looks like she was expecting cold, though depending on how windy it is up here, she can at least unbutton the collar pulled up to cover her neck. Preparation didn't take her too long this time; the cold-resist gear is actually one of the better items she already had on-hand, so she's pretty fresh from the LFG boards.

    A step down, and then snap to a finger-point. "Hey, I recognize that Combat Vagrant! 'Sup, you." And then, more obviously to Mordrd, "Sweet armor. Real classy knight look. You two know each other?"

    She hefts a backpack, in which are most of her other preparations, with the exception of her sheathed katana, also slung to one shoulder rather than at her side. When Ivraala shows up, she gets an appreciative whistle. "Man, I'm feeling a little undergeared for this romp." Noa gets less of a look than does his cucco. Not sure whether to take warning to heart. Probably.

Melissa (88) has posed:
    Equipped with her standard loadout of some kind of energy rifle, a flight pack, and environmental armor, Melissa is not exactly coming in with the look of an imposing sort. Then again, it's Rifts Earth, so her armor probably has an improbable number of spikes pointing all over the place. She arrives on a flying motorcycle, a Coalition-model Skycycle to be precise, and lands not too far away from Mordred... just in time to see the kick to the head.

    "Heh, got a lot of attention," the Juicer notes, taking off her helmet to socialize a bit before things get started. Ivraala and Eiko and Noa get quick looks, sizing them up in a moment and nodding her head.

Allenby Beardsley (760) has posed:
    "Mamacita?" Not long after Shin roundhouse kicks his way onto the scene does Allenby arrive, though she's doing a much more mundane 'just walking on in' entrance in comparison. Her hands rest on her hips as she comes to a stop. "Didn't know you were picking up Spanish too, Shin."

    The fact that he's greeting Mordred by attacking her doesn't strike Allenby as strange in the least.

    It doesn't seem like she's dressed all that differently than her usual civilian clothing. No sign of her mobile trace suit here and no sign of her Gundam either. "Hey." she gives Mordred a casual wave in greeting, unbothered by the apparently ex-Confederate status of the Servant. Not that Allenby's been THAT open about her affiliations so far-but it hasn't been hidden either for anyone that does a few seconds of research on her world. "I'm here to punch a dragon in the face."

Sarah Parsle (789) has posed:
Sarah loves adventure. She's not sure if she's actually got the chops for this, but that's okay.

SHE HAS A PLAN.

She has a black varnished wood case with her, held in her hands as she approaches. She looks like the last person who should be coming to kill dragons, really. No armor, little girl, no weapons. Nothing. But she's here nevertheless. "Hi people. And Noa. I heard something about dragons and making their lives miserable." She waves to Shin. "Hey Bodyguard." She calls. "Good to see you here."

That's Plan B.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    CLANK! Shin's foot slams into Mordred's gauntlet, and the Servant gives him a big grin. "Yo, karate hobo. Sharp! Save some of that for the douchebags inside."

    She nods to Ivraala, taking a moment to observe the Draenei. Is that a goat lady? Well, she's shrouded, and armored, so who cares.

    Bathe in dragon blood, though? Mordred yucks, eyeing Noa oddly. "That sounds disgusting. Well, whatever, as long as you do your job."

    To Eiko, she nods. "Held one of these before, guy showed up. If you call that 'knowing', sure."

    A respectful nod is given to Melissa. "Yo, glad you could make it. Yer the one who actually does this for a living and needs their... juice or whatever, right? Good luck finding a candidate in there."

    Allenby gets a thumb up. "Cool. Don't let me down, then."

    Sarah gets the last nod, as Mordred extends the hand holding the paper stack. "Yeah. So, here's the bounties. Just shuffle through until you find one that suits you. Plenty of them're wanted by someone somewhere. Cash and whatever you find you get to keep."

    Oddly, each bounty has an ADDRESS. An actual street address. Someone did some scout work to find where those guys live.

    The reason for this becomes obvious as people step through the door. Inside the mountain is a massive city, with buildings of incredible, draconic size. Runes, carved marble, gold, jewels, it's all pretentiously decorated and pretty. Dragons fly about left and right, of various sizes and shapes. It's like stepping into a metropolis, except everyone here has scales, wings, or both, and are behaving... for a degree of behaving. Occasional scuffles happen in the air between immature drakes, but for a dragon city it's pretty orderly! But, mostly, very huge and pretty.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    The bounties:

    Sarah finds a certain Tyrath, PUZZLEMASTER, a dragon renowned for games of intelligence rather than eating his foes. Said to be physically frail, but to utilize binding magic that allows him victory over those he defeats in his games. He can be found at his game shop.

    Noa stumbles across Vernik, a young black dragon aspiring to be a 'Dragonlord', the terror of his highschool. Dragon highschool. Class is currently in session.

    Ivraala's eyes catch sight of the name Zaffrigosa, an exiled member of the Blue Dragonflight that left Azeroth rather than deal with those humans who ruined the world by appropriating magic for themselves. Unfortunately, she's got a pretty high body count and has been on a vengeful binge. Found in her own temple.

    Shin and Allenby find matching bounties, one for Pulao and one for Hung Ti. A Chinese dragon and a Chinese phoenix, evidently mates, the dragon male and the phoenix female. They decimated their world's China after being wronged by an emperor and fled here. They have a palace together.

    Melissa finds a dragon called Humbaba the Progenitor-- named after a certain mythological beast, it is the very first dragon of its world, its blood and essence so pure it is said if its blood spills on a surface capable of bearing life, it immediatly spawns a new dragon. It resides in its own section of the mountain, an isolated cave filled with plantlife.

    Finally, Eiko finds a bounty for a Cheselg, a white dragon, devout worshipper of a number of divine, righteous gods. Perhaps too righteous, because the dragon has laid curses and flames on villages of innocents for the sins of one. It can be found at a church.

Noa Nuquerna (788) has posed:
     Noa kinda shrugs as Mordred. "Yeah, it sounds pretty gross, right? I mean, who'd do that shit? But somebody apparently did it once and it worked so, y'know, why not? A lot of power is gross. Hell, clothes are gross. People grind up plants and animals to make this stuff. I'm literally wearing a dead cow's sun-blasted skin." Noa tugs at his jacket.

     "I wonder if they were the same cow," he adds thoughtfully, tugging at his pants, "I wonder if it'd give me any bonuses if it *was* the same cow..."

     "Hey, screw you," he adds to Sarah, "I'm people. I'm probably more people than you are."

     They go in. Noa conceals his surprise at the Dragon City with typical Elven arrogance, snorting something about how this would be much cooler if it was all TREES or something under his breath. Just, you know, to make sure people heard him say it, but not too loudly, else they might mistake his TOTALLY JUSTIFIED SCORN for trying to cover up surprise and impressedness! That's totally not allowed, especially not for an elf. You can't do that. You can't be surprised by other peoples' stuff. It can't be better than elf stuff. It's Elf Law.

     ELF LAW.

     Noa looks over the bounty, then hands it up to his cucco. Number One caws in either agreement or because chickens make that noise. Noa chooses to interpet it as the first.

     "Alright, see you nerds later." Noa waves over his shoulder and departs, wandering away down the wood. Time to go to class. /Dragon Class/.

     What even the hell.

Shin Tokuyama (756) has posed:
    Shin hits the gauntlet and bounces off, landing easily and dusting his hands off. He gives a faint shrug to Allenby, "Naw. Mamacita is just something I think I could get away with calling her before she figured it out," The martial artist quips to his Swedish companion.

    Noa and Ivraala both get a thumbs up from him, "Yo. Waddap? How're you two doin?"

    Melissa gets a much different greeting, "Dude yo! Mel! The legendary cougar returns to the mountains to hunt. What's up, lady? You livin' large?" He asks her with a couple playful non-serious punches, meant to be in a joking fashion.

    And finally, he turns to Eiko and gives her a grin and a wave, "Yeah! She beat the shit out of me once and taught me a new move! Mordred's wicked awesome."

    And then he grabs a sheet off the top, "Dude, a chinese dragon. Gonna go punch the shit outta that thing. Awwww, yeah." He folds the paper up and jams it into his coat pocket.

    He takes off at a casual stroll.

Ivraala (679) has posed:
    Pale blue eyes settle on Eiko. "We all get ourselves equipped however much we think we need," Ivraala replies with a slight smirk. Her canines are oddly long and pointy in that brief moment before her lips shut into a hard line again. A nod is given back to Shin next. "As well as I can ever be. Congratulations on your progress in the tournament, too; you were quite remarkable after besting me, you know."

    A moment is taken to size up the other combatants here, but considering the apparent number of targets available, she files off the risk of competition as unlikely. Satisfied with this, she takes the bundle briefly to filter through it, then finally settles on one that sounds...interesting.

    Zaffrigosa. Well, that's a familiar type for her. Ivraala's experience with the blue dragonflight has been more than a little problematic, between Malgyos's madness and Sindragosa's tyranny. Yet another vengeful, spiteful dragon of their ilk is strangely unsurprising to her.

    She sighs softly, tucking the bounty under her armor for storage before giving her mount a brief kick. "Dioniss aca," she bids the others farewell before riding off: 'safe journey', the Multiverse translates it.

    The Death Knight rides through undaunted to the dragon city, trotting off to the home of Zaffrigosa.

Allenby Beardsley (760) has posed:
    "Oh." Allenby laughs. "Did she beat you up when she figured it ou-" she stops and stares at Noa in all of his elfy, adversarial, glory. "Hey-" Allenby tugs on the Combat Vagrant, "-look at that guy. He's like made out of distilled archrival wrung from a twenty-series JRPG."

    She's not sure where she's going with it, though, and takes a bounty. Upon reading it, she frowns immediately, "I think mine is broken, this one's for a Phoenix." Eyeing the address, she starts to navigate there and realizes she's pretty much following Shin.

    "Hey Shin-" Allenby holds up a piece of paper. "Does this address look familiar to you?" It only takes a few moments for her to realize that the address is the same.

    Meanwhile, Allenby's trying to play off her impressed state over the giant DRAGON CITY with coolness. Hey, it's just like a regular city, right? Just with dragons instead of humans? Well, except for the part where dragons aren't actually a thing where she's from. Allenby's willpower is high enough that she doesn't gawk and stare like a total idiot, especially since she and Shin are in the neighborhood for some murderin'.

    "Hey Shin, think I should call my Gundam for this one or just bare hand it? I'm leaning towards 'Gundam' because punching living fire is going to be tricky."

Mordred (12) has posed:
    RE: Noa

    DRAGON HIGHSCHOOL looks a lot like regular school. It's a pristine building of gold and marble, and the dragons there are all in humanoid guises. One of the few things they couldn't be bothered to build something dragon-sized for, each dragon attending here is, presumably, at learn sufficiently skilled in magic or shapeshifting to appear human. Varying degrees of humanity are present, from the fully morphed, those who still have tails, claws or other features, to those who look more like very small, two-legged dragons than humans.

    In front of the school, a teenage black dragon, humanoid, with occasional black scales, a tail and horns, is swinging a wicked black whip made of his own scales at a group of slightly younger dragons. A green, a white, a red, two silvers.

    "That's right! Bow down, suckers! I got better grades, so you owe me proper worship!" Whip, whip. He's not going lightly at it either, he's injuring the 'kids'.

Sarah Parsle (789) has posed:
Sarah looks over the sheaf of bounties. "I like your style." Sarah comments to Mordred. "You even did all the legwork. It's like handing us stuff on a platter. Well, far be it for me to disappoint. Let's go annoy some dragons into submission." Sarah salutes Mordred with her case, and then makes sure to make some kind of suitably elfy mocking gesture. Like wiggling fingers at her ears or something. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Hey, she's good at puzzles, not an insult swordfighter, give her a break.

On second thought, Shin isn't going of much help against a puzzle dragon. She's the brains of the operation, even if Shin isn't ACTUALLY stupid. That's how this is supposed to work.

She can abuse tropes to her own advantage too, after all. "Don't die. It would be kind of embarassing." She comments to the others, before she heads in to go beat a dragon at their own game.

At the GAME SHOP, the dragon-size door opens, the completely unitimidating silhouette of Sarah looming about two feet into the store entrance. "I'm looking for..." Dramatic pause. "The /Puzzlemaster/."

Eiko (650) has posed:
    "Huh, really? One of those learning experiences, I get it." Eiko gives Shin a nod. "S'cool." Melissa gets a look of envy for the flight pack and skycycle, something totally lacking in Eiko's arsenal, then some curiosity at what Mordred says to her.

    It takes another moment for her voice to click, "Oh, hey! I heard you on the radio a bit back. Skycycles, right. Maybe I could trade in my hover-truck for one. I don't need to carry THAT much loot. Except that one time." Chin-rub. Hm. Decisions. Later decisions.

    Ivraala gets a different kind of curious look. "'Ey, some of us are on a budget, too. Ah, well. More cash for the rest."

    Eiko isn't sure what kind of dragon she could reasonably take on, but hey, this just might work. The white ones the small ones, right? Or was that copper? Well, whatever. She'll figure out a way out alive if it turns out to be too much. Her magic works pretty well when she's in a bind. The more she thinks about it, the wider her grin. The bit about splitting up wasn't what she'd figured, but at least it'll save time. "See ya."

    Then, the city. She has no compelling reason not to be visibly impressed by the scale. Or the dragons. Or... everything, really. "Well, that sure is a thing I didn't expect to see. Not quite the mountain loner types I figured." Now, which way to the church...

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Ivraala rides through the city unimpeded, occasionally catching the attention of black and undead dragons of various natures. Nothing hostile, but she certainly is being watched with interest. As she rides through the massive streets, she eventually finds the address, a temple dedicated to the worship of magic as an overall concept.

    A very large blue dragon, with crystal scales that seem more like an affliction and infection than actual scales, sleeps at the top of the stairs and in front of the only entryway, blocking the path in. From the bounty picture, that's her, right there, sound asleep.

ZAFFRIGOSA
INSANE BROODMOTHER IN EXILE

    Ivraala has the drop on her target, but no obligation to take it.

Noa Nuquerna (788) has posed:
     IT IS A REGULAR SCHOOL, FULL OF PEOPLE WHO LOOK REGULAR, EXCEPT THEY ARE DRAGONS, OR DRAGON COSPLAYERS, HOW WOULD THEY EVEN TELL THE DIFFERENCE. This is the biggest letdown in the history of Elfkind, almost as big as that fruity wood elf guy who hung out and was friends with a dwarf. What self-respecting elf would befriend a *dwarf*? Gross. They're like humans, but hairier and more annoying.

     THIS IS THAT LEVEL OF LETDOWN.

     Nonetheless, Number One identifies the dragon in question with a caw and a poke. Noa looks up at the cucco, then over at the dragon whipping the other kids.

     "Huh. You know, I was gonna bathe in his blood, but I like this kid's initiative."

     Caw.

     "I know! Look at him go. His technique is *flawless*. The crack is pretty much exactly timed for maximum pain. Dude's a natural."

     Caw.

     "Yeah, look, I'm pretty sure I can take him in a fight if I have to. I'm the Adversary, he's just a punk-ass dragon. Dragon is always the right-hand man."

     CAW?

     "Well yeah, I mean, you're technically my Dragon. He's gonna be the Dragon to you, so I guess he's like a demi-Dragon? Except that he's a real dragon."

     Caw.

     "Glad to hear it. Let's go recruit the guy."

     Noa walks over to the group. "Hey! You. Uh," Noa glances at his paper, "Varnish." He tactically mispronounces the dragon's name. It is important that minions know they're minions.

     "I like what I see. You've got good technique, good style, and good ambition. You're motivated, intelligent, and clearly the guy who'll probably stab me in the back the first chance you get, unsuccessfully, but because of our long friendship I'll forgive you anyway. Wanna be an Evil General?"

     Caw.

     "Not the top Evil General, though. Number One here has that spot /sewn up/."

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Shin and Allenby won't take long to find the palace. Imperial, definitely Chinese, imposing, it glows an ominous purple, obviously corrupt by some manner of powerful magic. To a normal person, just being in this domain would lower one's capabilities, but these aren't regular intruders, and the magic can be shaken off. The palace is quiet and unguarded, and large enough to wander in while in a Gundam if it pleases the pilot-- though it won't be quiet, then, the robot's steps echoing through the building.

    Treasures and trophies line the walls, nothing useful, but plenty valuable. Old Chinese artwork, vases, statues, the sort of stuff a collector would murder for. The curse around the area seems strongest in the courtyard.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Sarah finds her way to a GAME STORE. It's a nerd's abode, with puzzles, tabletop books, video games and accessories everywhere. Some human in size, some for dragons. Though the buildings is massive, the owner immediatly adopts a human guise. A gold dragon, judging from his tail, scales, horns and claws, he grins a wide, fanged smile, locks of PRETTYBOY silver hair contrasting his natural color.

TYRATH
THE PUZZLEMASTER

    "Is that so? Only people wishing to play THE DEADLIEST GAME call me that. THIS WAY, young lady!"

    He produces a cape, which he immediatly flourishes as he turns around and heads into a back room. Within, a large chessboard has been arranged, with two trones at either ends. He sits on one, and bids Sarah to the other.

    The board has five pieces on each side. On Sarah's, a paladin, a priest, a rogue, a wizard and an archer, arranged in a pointed triangle, in stereotypical garbs. On the dragon's side, a tarrasque as the triangle point, followed by skeleton sword&shield, a living suit of armor with a greatsword, a lich, and a beholder.

    "I trust you have researched the rules. There is no tutorial! The heroes move first, naturally."

Ivraala (679) has posed:
    Ivraala's approach steadily slows the closer she comes to the address, until at last she sees the looming blue dragon coated in crystalline growth. Blue and shimmering, beautiful yet clearly unwell based on Ivraala's experiences, it's obvious that this must be Zaffrigosa.

    The Acherus Deathcharger comes to a halt at the base of the stairs, allowing Ivraala to hoist herself off its back and land on her hooves on the wide streets. The Deathcharger vanishes in a burst of shadow, leaving only the dark draenei to contemplate her target.

    She draws the greataxe from her back, allowing the frost-rimmed blade to thunk against the ground, but doesn't strike at her target yet.

    "Zaffrigosa," she speaks up, certainly loud enough for the dragoness to hear. "I'm here to put an end to you, and your madness. From the sight of things, it will be more of a mercy to you than anything else."

    The tattoos visible along her arm and stomach pulse beneath her skin with cold light. While her speech is meant to allow Zaffrigosa a moment to wake up and become alert, she's not waiting a second more for the dragon to prepare; a gust of freezing wind washes over the blue dragon to infect her with devouring Frost Fever. The magic disease will already begin to eat away at the beast with an interior ice if that gust of wind hits.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Eiko makes her way to the church. It appears to be a hybrid church, worshipping countless 'Light' divinities from countless worlds. Paladins and priests would be right at home here, with all the symbolism about the building. It's big, too! Definitely dragon-sized. At the end of the long, long building, past the pews and altars, is a single white dragon, with a very clothes on, a sort of collar and hat reminiscent of what a pope or bishop might wear.

    The white dragon's eyes narrow, and it inspects Eiko suspiciously. "WE do not have human visitors often. Have you come to pay respect to the gods and confess for your sins, mortal?"

CHESELG
HOLY CURSEBEARER

Shin Tokuyama (756) has posed:
    "Tough call. I don't have a mech, so it's tough for me to decide when to deploy one. Seems like a personal call. You gonna be too much of a wuss to fight on foot like me? It's okay to wuss out if you want, I won't judge you or anything," He gives her some playful elbows as they go on, trying to goad her on and get her all huffed up, as is his natural nature to goad people on.

    "Damn, look at this place. Ostentatious as fuck," Shin notes, cracking is knuckles and stretching his arms, "I dunno how much we'll get to take out of it, or what I'll even want. If I make too much money, I can't be a Vagrant any more, after all." He muses, rubbing the back of his head.

    As he comes across the FORBODING AURA, he shakes it off in the best way he can: Doubling up on the bravado, "HEY! We're here to kick ass and take names, and we already know everyone's names! Get the hell out here and face the shitty, mandolin music."

Mordred (12) has posed:
    "It's VERNIK, imbecile!"

VERNIK
ASPIRING DRAGONLORD

    The haughty teenager frowns, turning from his abused classmates (or juniors? who can even tell) to Noa and his chicken. "YOU? You're just an elf. You're still wet behind the ears, boy! I'm fifty-three, how old are YOU? Twenty? Ten? You're an infant! I'm a LORD amongst dragons, future ruler of my kind!" This would all be very true if fifty-three wasn't absurdly young for a dragon. And if he was in any way especially threatening.

    "I suggest you bow down to me, too! Maybe I'll be kind and recruit YOU instead, and we can eat that chicken for dinner!" Whipcrack. His weapon bursts into black and red fire, and he swings at Noa! How rude! Looks like he'll need some discipline-- but there's more way to do that than to beat him up.

    His classmates are starting to crawl away, too.

Melissa (88) has posed:
    "Nice," Melissa remarks, of her own. She gives Shin a passive little batting of her hand, not really trying to stop the play-punches. Must be distracted. "Hey, you be careful out there, I want to hear all about it."

    To Mordred, Melissa grins, "Man, you're going to be a sad loss to the Feds. If this is everything the bounty says, though, I'll owe you one." She gives a thumbs up to Mordred before taking off after her own bounty, with a wave of 'good luck' to the various others. She'll keep an eye on them if she can, but she has some climbing to do.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    "You--?!" Zaffrigosa seems immediatly alert and unpleased, her eyes glowing a faint blue as she scans the Death Knight. There's-- something about her eyes. Is she blind? An icy disease affects the dragon, at any rate-- she does not get up, so much as sit up, roaring.

    "You! You bring the stench of undeath with you again! Was once not enough? Was the slaughter and enslaving of my people NOT ENOUGH?! I will freeze and shatter you like every other who has stolen our magic from us!"

    Cold air gathers in her mouth, and Zaffrigosa assaults breathes a cone of freezing air at the Draenei. It also mana burns! Which is really not that big a concern for a Death Knight, though she might feel a tug at what little magical reserves she may have if it hits.

Allenby Beardsley (760) has posed:
    "WUSS?!" Allenby snorts and jabs him back with a pointy, pointy elbow. "Sounds more like you're jealous of the Gundam. Okay, /fine/, I won't fight with my Gundam, I'll punch fire on foot." Note, though, that she doesn't seem too thrilled about punching fire and how effective that might be when she actually tries it.

    "Yeah, tell me about it. Spooky and-" she frowns, rubbing her head, "-huh, do you feel that, Shin? It feels like /oppression/. Ugh." Fortunately, she seems to have enough willpower that the curse does not seem to be keeping her down all that much-well, save for the part where she's worried about being burned alive in the future.

    "If we make mad cash, I can just take it off your hands. Though I'm not sure how much I'll get to keep either. I'm sure the military would love that being dropped into their defense budget. Either way, I don't think it'd change things for us too much."

    Strolling through the cavernous home of the pair, Allenby doesn't seem as impressed anymore. "YEAH HUNG TI! Get your firey ass out here, we need to have /words/. Words about destroy countries and being a giant, shitty flaming chicken in a /dragon/ city!"

    Allenby heads for the courtyard, motioning for Shin to follow. "That oppressive feeling seems to be coming from there."

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Melissa makes through the city, and then out of the city. Conveniently signs points to a teleportation network, and the cave of the Progenitor is a hot spot connected to it. Warping to it, one quickly understands why.

    It's kind of a botanical garden. There's plants from all across the Multiverse here, including the walking, sapient variety. Surely a place where nature dragons come often.

    Wandering this massive garden is one dragon, close to a hundred foot tall. Its head more like a lion's, its scales pointed like a porcupine, its legs like talons and its scaly wings actually feathered-- it's a dragon, for sure, but also a lot of other things. Clearly, it earned its name through a certain similarity, if any-- or it's an alternate version of the legendary beast, even.

HUMBABA THE PROGENITOR
THE GILGAMESH OF DRAGONS

    Now Melissa just has to figure out how she wants to tackle this. Directly? Stealth? There's certainly plenty of cover, and given its size it may not notice her immediatly.

Sarah Parsle (789) has posed:
Some people might look at the game store and feel that comforting sense, that enveloping, blanketlike warmth of nerd culture. They might consider it a testament to the universal truths and beliefs that can unite species despite their differences.

Sarah, however, doesn't give a damn. Something about Tyrath immediately makes her want to punch him in the snout despite not having Fistkind handy.

Maybe it's because the dragon inexplicably seems to embody almost everyone Sarah is regularly pissed at in a single arrogant scaly package.

She clambers onto the throne and stares at the dragon with an even gaze. "You think you know death games, dragon?" Sarah's eyes narrow dangerously. "My entire life is a death game." She replies ominously. "Let's rock."

Sarah looks over the board for a moment and despite not actually knowing the game, she begins immediately deducing various important points. The pieces are designed to have natural counterplay. She needs to force engagements with optimal matchups. Archetypes are something familiar to Sarah, as she puts her hand on the rogue, putting him out wide. "I am going to move my rogue out and put him in stealth mode." She declares, shifting the piece.

Eiko (650) has posed:
    Eiko isn't smiling by the time she gets inside. "Damn, partner, you'd hate this place..." is mutter quietly. Cheselg gets her seemingly undivided attention when it speaks, all, all the way at the other end of the huge room. This is going to be a bit of a walk. Eiko takes only a moment to size up her opponent before choosing her words. Her demeanor is utterly, sincerely serious, in stark contrast to both her touriest stare of a few minutes past, and the excited greetings of before then.

    "More than that. Worse than that. I can confess everything I've done, but the reason I'm here is this." In her coat pocket, she pulls out an ordinary smart phone. "This cursed item, I haven't been able to get rid of it. A demon speaks through it, promising to tell me all the world's secrets. I can't even break it. It'll find its way back to me before I leave, even if I give it to you. There's nothing left for me to try, but where else could I deal with a demon but in a church?"

    Phone still held up, as soon as she can get close enough, she tosses it to Cheselg. A moment later, caught or not, the screen lights up in pure static, accompanied by the genuine taste of a demonic presence, to anyone with the ability to sense that kind of thing, and extending to any other susceptible piece of technological machinery in range.

    Almost everything Eiko said was true.

    Her suddenly drawn sword is swinging for the dragon the moment it starts or looks away from her.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Shin and Allenby reach the courtyard, a massive square opening in the palace, without a roof. A large glowing orb sits in the center, purple, the source of the aura around the palace. But before they can do anything reckless to it, their shouts are answered.

    Two figures spring in, from left and right, in the air. One, a long, serpentine, purple dragon, with many of its scales, and an eye, missing. It is surrounded by the same aura as the orb and palace.

    With it a phoenix, but it is not a bird of flame. The Chinese Phoenix is a gracious bird, an amalgam of countless birds. A peacock's tail, save that every strand is almost serpentine, long and disconnected, vulture talons, two pairs of wings and a plumage that resembles fur. It's physical, definitely not fire. And purple, and glowing, like the dragon.

    This close up, the aura is easier to pin down. It's the virtues and powers the dragon and phoenix combination are meant to represent, completely inverted by the years of hatred and exile, and the sin of destroying China. Gone the wisdom, generosity and balance of those two beings. They're an insult to their species.

PULAO and HUNG TI
FALLEN CHINESE MYTHS

    On cue, Pulao, the dragon, roars towards Shin, the volume enough to shred the air. Hung Ti, the bird, launches feathers like stingers and needles at Allenby.

Ivraala (679) has posed:
    Blind? And certain, by Ivraala's scent, that she's still a member of the Scourge. Of course, the draenei should have expected as much.

    The sting of still being counted among the Lich King's ranks is dulled by now, but it nonetheless sparks an ire in the draenei's quiet, cold heart.

    That cone of freezing breath is a bigger problem, anyway: Ivraala deals with it by suddenly swerving to the side, trying to duck away from the blast. Its chilling gale sweeps over her tail and leg, but as the Death Knight fails to feel any sort of physical pain, she's quick to lash her tail aside and stomp her hoof against the ground, shattering the ice that's formed.

    Of course, even she can't just shrug off something like that. While she may not feel pain, she's certainly aware of the damage that's caused, even to her cold, frost-aspected body. A dragon's breath is a potent weapon, and even if Zaffrigosa is consumed by corruption and madness, she doesn't deserve to be underestimated.

    "I am not here by any affiliation with them," Ivraala hisses, swinging one arm aside once more to send tendrils of shadow seeping into the floor beneath Zaffrigosa. Shadow infects the very ground beneath her, flaring up with an arcane circle that expands for a few yards in diameter. The floor is corrupted for a few minutes, eating away at anything that steps in that circle of decay.

    "But," Ivraala continues, bounding forward and delivering a powerful swing of her rime-coated axe on the blue dragon's ankle to accentuate her final word, "I understand if you wish to count me among them, unfortunate /wretch/."

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Tyrath laughs at Sarah. "I created this game! You will never win. And when I do, I will eat your brain and gain your knowledge." Is that how it works? Presumably it might for him. It's hard to say. Maybe he just eats brains and FEELS smarter but doesn't actually get smarter. Sarah likely doesn't want to find out first-hand.

    "Very well!" His hand grips the lich and moves it forward one. "My lich begins invoking its dark forces! Your turn, human!"

    A servant brings soda and chips and lays them on smaller, side-tables. There's cup-holders on the thrones.

Noa Nuquerna (788) has posed:
Noa gives the dragon a very unimpressed look. He's an Elf, which makes him a *pro* at being unimpressed, as has previously been shown. It is ELF LAW.

ELF LAW.

Vernik comes at him, whip aflame and ready to kill. Noa snaps up his cape imperiously and rapidly, which is apparently *much* heavier than it looks, smashing the cape into the whip to blunt the impact. The cape lights aflame. Noa drops it back behind him.

     Number One gives a worried look down at the fire and caws curiously. Noa ignores him for the moment.

The Elven Archenemy's eyebrow slowly rises into his hairline as the Dragon keeps going. "I don't think you understand how this works. You're the dragon. You're not the Adversary. You're not the final threat. You're the terrible, dangerous monster under the Adversary's control, alternatively, the Evil General." Noa spreads his arms in a slow shrug, sending his cape rolling.

Then he snaps his fingers. Number One gives a caw of assent and flies upwards, settling on some high vantage point to look down. "Unfortunately, it looks like, first, I'm gonna have to teach you THE LESSON."

Noa unbuckles the bandolier belt.

He sticks two fingers in his mouth and whistles.

A little Devil pops out of nowhere. The little thing flits over to Vernik and drops a pamphlet in his hands. "Read that," Noa tells him, pointing at it, "And then we'll fight if you still want to. I have literally all night."

The pamphlet reads as follows.

SO YOU WANT TO BE A FORCE OF UNMITIGATED EVIL IN ORDER TO PROMPT A RISE OF HEROES WHO WILL EVENTUALLY EXPOSE THE FLAWS IN THE SOCIAL ORDER AND WORK TO CORRECT IT
BY NOA NUQUERNA

Greetings And Congratulations, Pitiful (Insert Name Here)! You are a LUCKY PERSON. You have been CHOSEN by FATE, by YOUR OWN WILL, or by AWAKENING TO THE TRUTH OF THIS WORLD to be a member of THE ADVERSARY'S <s>ALLIANCE</s><s>NEW WORLD ORDER</s><s>EMPIRE</s><s>VILLAIN VARIETY HOUR</s>
ARMY.

This means that YOU have taken your FIRST STEP towards BECOMING A PRODUCTIVE ANTITHESIS OF SOCIETY. The second step is simple! Cast off the chains of the role society has demanded of you and take up the role being offered you by THE ADVERSARY! The rewards for service are multitude!
-All the loot of Heroes Who Don't Make It Up To Snuff you can carry!
-Free spacious living space (once this has been established)!
-Dental! (once a dentist has been recruited)
-Possible immortality!
-Your own domain in which to rule unchallenged, until someone inevitably challenges you, at which point you'll start over and return to being a LEGENDARY AND LOOMING THREAT who will RISE UP TO SHAKE THE SOCIAL ORDER!
-The knowledge that YOU are among the CHOSEN FEW, above the teeming and pointless masses who shuffle about doing their day to day work!
<img>a crudely-drawn picture of a black chicken with an eyepatch</img>
So what are YOU waiting for, (Insert Name Here)? BOW DOWN TODAY!

Melissa (88) has posed:
    It's a bit of a trip, but finally Melissa lays sight on her goal. A little quirk of a smile to herself, and she drops down to attempt to sneak closer. She has plenty of mystical senses, but she wouldn't want to bet them against a true dragon. Well, actually she would, she's just not stupid enough to do so DIRECTLY like this.

    Of course, she's a juicer, so she's not patient enough to do anything elaborate. All she does is set down a phosphorous charge nearby and time it, then she's off at a careful pace to thread through the cover, dashing form one to another to get closer.

    When the charge goes off, it's an intense white flare that melts the rock it's on, burning through any flora as well. The instant heat is fast enough she isn't worried about setting a sudden blaze... too much moisture here. All she wants is a distraction so she can dash in from the side, or attempt to dive in at least, and latch onto her quarry.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    "A demon? Pray its taint has not spread to you already, or you will burn with the cursed object too!" Cheselg declares, as it lowers its head to inspect the tiny cellphone (relative to it). There's no technology in the church for it to infect, (un)luckily, but it distracts the beast nonetheless.

    And then Eiko cuts it in the face. The blade blinds the white dragon in one eye and its roars in anger. "Liar! Demon-spawn! It has spread to you already and then some! I will purify you, for this world's sake!"

    The magic of the church suddenly kicks in. The holy energy of the building appears to be trying to curse Eiko with an assortment of nasty debuffs. Slow, enfeeble, the full stats down list. The dragon's holy ground seems to obey its will, apparently!

Allenby Beardsley (760) has posed:
    "You know, maybe we should punch that first." Allenby gestures at the orb moments before the pair of corrupted legends show up. "I think that's where the feeling is coming from-" Movement out of the corner of her eyes makes her spin, sliding back to back with Shin as the dragon and phoenix appear from within the massive home. "-wait, that's not a phoenix at all!"

    Of course, Allenby herself is completely ignorant of Chinese mythology and actually does not know what the Chinese version of the bird is supposed to look like, "It's some snakey, ugly thing!" Outwardly, the creature is not that ugly, but the aura it exudes makes it seem much uglier than it actually is, the very feeling of the warped virtues stirring disgust within the Gundam Fighter involuntarily.

    Allenby crosses her arms in front of her face as the needle-feathers rain down upon her and stick into her skin through the blue coveralls she wears. She draws in a short breath and pushes past the pain, as per her training, before charging and leaping much higher than a normal human would. She reaches out to grab ahold one of the serpentine feather-tails, intent on having either one of two things happen:

    One, she pulls the bird down to the ground (unlikely due to weight difference). Or two, she grabs on and uses the opportunity to scale the tail onto the back of the bird.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Ivraala's shadows start eating at the dragon-- but Zaffrigosa does not move. She could take off, fly away from the temple gate, but she bars it with her body almost obsessively. Is she stuck there? Is her lower half too big to fit through anymore? Unlikely, given her bounty isn't that old.

    Despite the building damage from the Ice Fever and now the cursed ground, the blue matron still has enough strength to catch the swinging axe, which digs into her 'hand' lightly. She attempts to hold Ivraala in place through her weapon.

    "YOU WILL NOT TRICK ME AGAIN! Cursed king, demonic servant, your are why humans cannot be trusted with magic! YOU ARE WHY MALYGOS WAS RIGHT IN ALL THINGS!" Her crystal scales charge up with magic, and a few shoot out of her body. They leave open wounds in their place, but the mana-charged crystal spikes, like attack drones or funnels, start firing streams of pure arcane energy at the Death Knight, while a few more just try to impale her from numerous angles and then detonate.

Shin Tokuyama (756) has posed:
    "Man, and here I was goin around hopin' the eastern dragons would be cool compared to the douchey western dragons. But nope," Shin grumbles as he stretches and pops his elbows and shoulders.

    Allenby is off and after the ugly phoenix soon after, "Oh man, I know what that thing is. That's your uh..." He snaps his fingers several times, thinking it over, "Your Yeouiju, yeah?" He says as he looks at the thing, "Dude, you fucked that thing UP. Smashy, smashy!"

    While Allenby goes at the Phoenix, Shin charges right in towards that Sphere. He ignores the dragon, for the moment, trying to throw a powerful haymaker right at the celestial orb.

Sarah Parsle (789) has posed:
"You can't say that. You can't see the future. You've only made it." Sarah replies, her eager expression settling into a mask of Gloom. "That's the great joke of existence, isn't it? We've made our choices already, but we don't understand it or why until we've gotten there. The end of this game was decided before we even sat down."

Is she playing mindgames? Who knows. People who know Sarah might not think so, but this is the first time the ecto-youth and the dragon have crossed paths.

She moves the Priest forward, standing it next to the Paladin. Is she insane, putting a powerful support piece at risk? Or is she trying to bait Tyrath into an arrogant move? Or is the entire thing a trap? "The priest invokes holy power." Sarah replies. "Take your best shot."

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Vernik frowns, but has to respect a man whose cape can deflect a flaming whip. He pauses, givinv the brochure a quick read. That is when his attention snaps back to his classmates.

    "-- no! YOU IDIOT, THEY'RE ESCAPING!"

    His grip on his whip tightens in fury. "If you want me to consider your offer, prove yourself competent and catch them! I will respect a dark overlord capable of subduing his slaves!"

    His whip swings, and reaches for the neck of a fleeing white dragon teen, right around the neck. He drags him back to his feet and on the ground. "Whoever catches the most!" He quickly withdraws his whip-- given its scaled, flaming nature, it slices the neck open. "Kills are double points. GO!"

    There's a full school yard of fleeing dragon teens. Most of them assume draconic forms (whelps and very small drakes for the most part) to go faster.

    But maybe Noa doesn't want to play along?

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Melissa's flare startles Humbaba; partially blinded by the sudden discharge, the lumbering, giant dragon takes slow, massive steps toward the molten rock and ground, and the now dead plantlife. It bends over, snout smelling the air of the crater, trying to see who or what did that. It picks up on a scent, certainly-- and its head moves, slowly, to track Melissa's movements. Her movements from a few seconds ago, that is.

    Humbaba, it seems, isn't very fast, or perhaps it's too confident, and taking its time tracking her location. It sure is distracted, though!

Ivraala (679) has posed:
    All things? When did this dragon leave the blue dragonflight? Or perhaps Ivraala's sense of time is off, as it sometimes can be. An unfortunate side effect of such long life.

    The axe may be Ivraala's best option in combat, but she's not above letting go of it briefly when it's clear that her opponent has a much better grip than she does. The moment the draenei sees those crystal scales bursting free, she lets go, leaping back with a strong kick of her legs. It's enough to avoid a couple of those streams, but the scales that speed down to impale her are much more successful.

    Ivraala doesn't scream, but her dark armor almost seems to once the scales pierce through it. The draenei attempts to rip several of them free, unhindered by the jolts of pain most would feel shooting through them, but that's only so successful: a couple still explode with magical force, sending Ivraala flying back from the strike and tumbling down the steps.

    She manages to get to her feet, but the dark blue blood seeping out of blasts and punctures in her armor is clearly a bad sign. The draenei only spares a look at those injuries before sprinting back up the steps again.

    "Why do you linger there, drake," the draenei shouts. Her hand lashes forward, the pulse of cold light along her tattoos the only warning before a sphere of green, unholy energy shoots out toward the dragon. "Are you afraid to come out and meet who you hate so much?"

    Hopefully that rotten sphere will be enough of a distraction for Ivraala to try and yank her axe free again.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Allenby grabs onto the phoenix's tail, and then starts ascending its large body. In response, its feathers become sharp as needles, trying to impede her progress! And it starts flying in weird angles, trying to roll her off. She's a balanced young lady though, surely she can manage a bit of aerial combat pressure.

    The dragon grunts, and as Shin charges for its orb, it interposes itself with its long serpent body. The blow crashes into its scales, ripping another layer off. Old arrow and sword wounds can be seen up close, no doubt the people's fury when the dragon went rogue having left marks that don't heal.

    "You will harm neither my orb nor wife," it declares.

    Its body suddenly swerves, trying to whiplash into Shin, and presumably slam him into a wall painfully.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    "FOOL! Everyone knows if you do not interrupt the lich's summoning within three turns, you may as well forfeit the match! Of course the outcome of this game is decided if that's how stupidly you'll play!"

    The dragon's hand moves the living suit of armor forward towards the priest. "I put your priest in jeopardy, and the lich continues its spell! Here I'd hoped for a challenging game."

Noa Nuquerna (788) has posed:
     Noa does not want to play along.

     Noa snaps out his belt. He is very good with his belt, on account of how he has BELTKIND. The belt goes out like a clothesline for Vernik's chin - a large, heavy clothesline, manipulated expertly by the Elf.

     The spikes are on the other side, but the metal buckle won't be pleasant to take on the chin. Should he actually catch the dragon 'round the neck, Noa snaps the belt closed, tightening it like a noose around the dragon's throat.

     "You don't give orders to me," Noa tells Vernik as he leans in, "I don't have any use for a rebellious subordinate who doesn't recognize his place. I also don't have any use for a bloodthirsty lunatic whose only desire is hurting people."

     Noa has a soul? Too bad nobody else is around to see it.

     "You want to rule dragonkind? You're settling. You want to murder and rampage? You're doing yourself a disservice." Noa tightens the belt a little harder.

     "I can see it in your ambition. In your desire. You want to be way more than a high school bully. When you say you're going to be Lord of all Dragons, you mean it. The trouble is!" Noa suddenly looses the belt, planting his foot in Vernik's back to shove the dragon to his knees.

     "This is the kind of stupid bullshit that gets you taken down like a damn sidequest! Murdering high schoolers isn't the hallmark of an Evil General or a Dragon King! That's low-tier Slasher Sidequest crap!"

     Noa cracks the belt, literally, snapping the heavy spikes against the ground like a whip. "You don't want to be a Slasher Sidequest! You want to be the Evil General! The legendary Dragon Nightmare! The monster whose wings bring thunder, the demon-beast who spreads terror in his wake, the villainous shadow whose mere name sends weaklings cowering and villagers fleeing!"

     "Now cut this shit out and come with me and make something out of yourself. Alternatively, keep mouthing off to me, and I'll make a coat out of your skin and get the rest of these punks for my army. One way or another, you'll learn your place."

     Number One floats down to perch on Noa's head, offering a surprisingly malicious one-eyed glare in Vernik's direction.

     The cape is still on fire.

     Noa is aware of this. He does not at the moment care. It's working for him.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Ivraala's coil of darkness slams into the blue dragon, adding additional pain and suffering to the beast. She still seems rather able to fight, but is definitely putting herself at a significant advantage staying in the desecrated, hungry ground.

    "This temple is dedicated to magic and Malygos. I will die in it if I must die at all!" Loyal, if anything. Or protecting any number of powerful artifacts. Blue dragons do like hoarding that stuff up.

    The Death Knight retrieves her axe, and Zaffrigosa casts a spell. A blizzard forms overhead, sharp blades of ice raining like hail. They cut the marble, surrounding buildings, assorted scenery. More importantly, the largest concentration is aimed for the Draenei.

Eiko (650) has posed:
    And there it goes. "Huh, that's all..."

    Slow. Enfeeble.

    Eiko's totally susceptible, and after getting one good hit in, she's slowed and weakened to the point that the next attack should be pretty easy to dodge or block. She's not the world's best swordsman, in the first place. "...coming from the building?"

    Paralyze. Blind.

    Now her legs aren't moving, and her vision is stating to fade. "Hahaha... dude. Meeting me, you've got such rotten luck."

    Silence. Disable.

    Her arms drop to her sides, uselessly, as the presence of the 'cursed' cell phone fades out completely. This is as thoroughly locked down as she's ever been, living up to her quarry's name. Tracking it down outside of the church might have been smarter, but she wasn't patient enough for that. It's only like to get worse if she gives it another few moments, and it's the time up to now that she won't really be able to defend herself if Chelseg is quick on the draw. Her lips mouth out a word in response.

    'Contagion.'

    The black wind that whips up and around her isn't quite the same as a demon's presence, but it's dark magic, for sure. Antithetical to that of light gods, even if its aim is so similar. Like a bursting cloud, everything her magic recognizes as a 'curse' on her is spread in every direction the wind carries, with no regard to what it hits. Living beings, furniture, architecture--if the curse even carries something conceptually relevant to the target, her spell carries it there. When it's done--she still hasn't been cured of jack.

    'Burn.' Tick. 'Burn.' Tick. 'BURN.' Tick. "BURN!"

    Now the curses strip away, each shoved into a furnace, fueling the reaction that, oh so briefly, pumps her up to the level of manic glee. "Unluckiest scaly sonovabitch on the fuckin' superplanet, mate. You should have just bit my head off when you had the chance!"

    It's actually to the level of being painful, the degree to which her body is now able to move. It'll hurt like hell later, no matter what else--but for maybe a minute or so, it's the biggest damn rush.

    Anything else, and she'd sink. This opponent, though--her sword, being unbreakable its main redeeming quality, will break the dragon's neck in one go if it isn't quick or smart enough.

Allenby Beardsley (760) has posed:
    Needles sink into Allenby's hands with the next grab as she starts to climb. She grits her teeth and holds steady, her blood leaking onto the feathers of the bird. "You think this will shake me off?" Allenby says in a low voice, carrying a fierce tone that Shin has never heard her take before. She sounds bitter and angry. "I've been jabbed with needles all my /life/." she grabs on harder, sinking the spines deeper into her skin through her clothes and gloves.

    The Gundam Fighter will not be dislodged willingly but at one point, she does let go, the momentum flipping her skyward into a good position that lets her drop back down, feet-first aimed at the Phoenix's back. After this dropkick, she'll lower herself and grab on again.

    "Are you a boy or a girl?" Allenby asks as she holds on, "I can't really tell with Chinese names. Huang sounds like a guy's name though. Wait, are you both guys? Because that's okay too."

Melissa (88) has posed:
    And now we run into the problem with Juicers who love to jump into combat! Melissa literally jumps at Humbaba! Only... in midair she realizes that she's kind of in a bad position to actually execute any of her plans. Normally, she could just punch through the back scales of a dragon and do whatever she needed, but this one was large, lumbering, and probably well-armored along the back.

    Change of plans.

    In midair, Melissa yanks her rifle down and fires a single shot. She doesn't expect it to penetrate much, but it is a Storm Rifle, and the crackling electricity might jolt the beast enough for her to do what she wants. That being, she's going to try to grab hold and 'slide' down the side, to look for a more vulnerable spot like the underarm or where the scales shift from back to belly.

Shin Tokuyama (756) has posed:
    "Dude, you destroyed a country together. You kinda had this coming, didn't you?" Shin notes as he slams his fist into the scales of the dragon. For some reason, that event feels uncannily familiar to him, even though he's never done it. A few scales are embedded in his hand, though he picks those out with his teeth and spits em to the floor, raising his hands up again.

    "If you and your wife wanted to live in peace, you shoulda just never made trouble in the first place," Shin comments as he lets out a bit grunt. When the tail comes in for him, he brings his arms up to block, the impact sending him skidding across the floor as he scrambles for purchase and the arms of his suit turn red from the opened wound there.

    He lunges back in at the dragon again, his hand glowing a faint red as he releases a ki-infused haymaker towards the scales of the dragon, not hesitating to try to punch it out of his way so he can get at that obnoxious orb.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Noa brings the ASPIRING DRAGONLORD down on its knees. It grunts, it makes very angry noises, but it listens, which is probably a hell of a start. He considers the offer and the words. It's not wrong. He's read about a lot of dragons who made their fame being a dark lord's "pet". Is being a pet really that insulting if the owner lets you do whatever you want? From his perspective, those dragons were just using their dark masters to achieve fame and fortune faster.

    There's worse prices to pay.

    "And how do I know you are all you say? How do I know you're not some show off side-boss, huh?! Where's your dark armor, where're your minions? You call a chicken an army? What do I GET out of this, RIGHT NOW?"

Mordred (12) has posed:
    "My holy ground! No foul demon or darkspawn can overpower it!" Well, none it had met so far. Eiko empowers herself with each of the land's curses, and the white dragon takes a step back, still half-blind from the first slash. It calls upon a divine, holy shield, forming a brilliant white half-dome between it and Eiko's blade, which crashes into it and shatters it without effort. It's at least enough to dull the strike, and for the beast's scales to absord some of the blow afterwards. The dragon isn't beheaded, but it's having a bad day. It whips its neck and head back, opening its jaw wide despite the pain.

    Searing white flames gush out, engulfing the whole church! Holy fire, purity that can burn away all impurities. Well, mostly, it's just really hot blessed fire, really. It sure seems to be melting the pews and altars despite them being pure, so it's not very selective.

Sarah Parsle (789) has posed:
Of course she knows now that the dragon mentions it. However, she had already predicted something like that.

What else she predicted was the attack on the priest. "Of course, a classic Lich-pin maneuver." Saran replies. Does she know what she's talking about, or is she just going for wordplay damage? Still, it's the kind of 'cleverness' she expects from this kind of guy, so she might even be right. "You trigger the Paladin's Interception ability by putting the Priest in jeopardy." Sarah says, a small smile on her face. "This reverses their positions and counters their living armor." Sarah makes the swap of the pieces and pushes the armor back one space, the palacing taking the spot the armor had occupied. Sarah then reaches over and picks up a chip fro mthe pile. "Meanwhile, my Wizard casts a Haste spell, targeting my Rogue and Archer, giving them immediate turns. The Archer moves on line with the Lich, threatening it with the archer's sniper ability. It would be able to simply move out of the way, except..."

Sarah then drops the Rogue piece in behind the lich. "The Rogue attacks with a hamstring attack, preventing it from moving on its next turn... And since it was attacked..." Sarah crunches into the chip. "You just wasted a whole lot of perfectly good time and gloating on a dead guy."

Ivraala (679) has posed:
    The cursed ground is, unfortunately for Ivraala, dwindling away. That infection of Frost Fever can't be lasting much longer, either; hopefully with her axe in hand, she'll be able to make sure she /keeps/ the upper hand here. Taking on a dragon alone is a difficult task for almost anyone.

    "Then I seem to have no choice but to fulfill that wish," the draenei hisses, hoisting her weapon and preparing to follow through. Before she can, however, Zaffrigosa proves to have a quicker draw on magic. A rain of ice descends on the Death Knight, spearing down and once more forcing her to /move/.

    The easiest spot to do this, though likely risky, is right below Zaffrigosa's forelegs.

    Ice shards stab and slice at her tail in the brief moment she's exposed, but Ivraala is quick to act once she has her plan together. The runic energy that she has gathered is focused on the blade of her axe, the runes along the blade flaring and sending out a deeper mist of cold that almost becomes like a second blade. With a powerful roar, Ivraala /swings/, cleaving up into the dragon's chest so that the blade of gathered energy can suddenly explode on impact with obliterating power.

Noa Nuquerna (788) has posed:
     "You get in at the ground floor," Noa tells the Dragon, "You get in while we're still in the build-up phase. That means, /by default/, you are the most important person next to me."

     CAW.

     "And Number One."

     Caw.

     Noa puts his foot on a convenient nearby plinth. "You don't have to jockey for position as the army grows. You don't have to worry about being betrayed or sacrificed for my goals. You are my Trusted Companion, unless you betray me, in which case I'll kill you but I'll be sad and respectful about it in memory of these upcoming times where we'll go adventuring together to build up our forces and armory and all that stuff. You, me, and Number One. The /core/. The Evil Adventuring Party. The /command team/. The Dragon, the Dark Lord, and the Faithful Comrade Who Binds Us Together."

     CAW.

     "You'll learn to figure out what he's saying," Noa adds helpfully.

     Caw.

     "Yeah, yeah. Also, Number One, ever more pragmatic than I am, wants me to point out that you have a bounty on your head, which means that /right now/ you get allied to somebody working off-world, which means protection from whoever it is you pissed off royally with your junior-tier Slasher Sidequest bullshit. Because," Noa points at his thumb, "/I/ have Enemies."

     "And that means I can guide *your* enemies into *my* Enemies and watch the sparks fly."

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Melissa is right to be wary of its scales, but in being so sharp and pointed, they lose protection. In exchange for being armored likea porcupine, Humbaba loses some of the defensive properties of having dragon scales. This wouldn't be an issue fighting someone at ground level, but someone firing ABOVE it can nail a lot of poorly defended spots, and the rifle bolts find more purchase than Melissa expected.

    On the other hand, Humbaba is now aware of her.

    It suddenly spins on its feet, absurdly fast. So fast one of its two talons might manage to snatch the Juicer up and squeeze, denying her landing on its back. Maybe she has an ace up her sleeve, though, or is faster than the dragon can react.

    As blood gushes out of its wounds and onto the grass, the plantlife starts shuffling loudly. It grows, and starts taking draconic shape. Melissa has given birth to a grass dragon! It's not very big, and probably not very strong. And since it's made of grass it's probably vulnerable to fire. A lot.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Allenby's questioning is answered by Pulao in an angry roar. "She is my WIFE," he insists, "and named after the emperor that betrayed us both! That his acts may be remembered forever, she took its name and malice to spread it!"

    The phoenix doesn't talk, sadly. And when it's kicked, hard, it loses altitude, crashing to the ground. The bird whimpers.

    Shin's assault silences the dragon, another crushing blow to its body ripping scales and flesh out. The glowing beast does not retaliate-- it flies to Hung Ti's defense, massive maw suddenly attempting to gobble up Allenby!

    Giving Shin access to the orb.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Tyrath is taken aback. Is Sarah getting to him with her mindgames? Is he not the PUZZLEMASTER after all? No, this is just a fluke. Beginner's luck. This child can't possibly know the game that well.

    "Irrelevant! My beholder activates its petrifying gaze, turning your rogue and archer to stone for threatening the lich! You may have set me back one turn but this will cost you several!"

    Its idle hand taps on its throne impatiently.

    "Now! Make your move! You will lose whatever you do!"

Eiko (650) has posed:
    Truthfully, Eiko's not at the level of most dragons big enough to run their own holy businesses. Getting hit with the curses first is what turned this impossible fight into something she has a chance of handling, as her body normally just doesn't have the agility to deal with a breath attack of noticeable width. Even after her first strike is blocked, however, the boosts remain--as they will indefinitely, if Chelseg keeps trying to curse her, though that will mean she'll have to keep stopping to burn them off.

    The leap back she makes is wholly outside the realm of human possibility, at least for humans on her world, but that's Dark Magic(tm) for you. A dodge behind the dragon-sized pews gives a moment while other things melt, kicking off (what are to her) walls in lieue of any other way to stay airborne and out of the holy searing field right below. That's only going to keep her safe for a moment, though. Where in here could she be safe--oh, right.

    Nowhere.

    Eiko's next leap takes her straight for a stained-glass window, scattering thick shards everywhere and giving her a cut to the cheek, the only area not defended by an enchanted trenchcoat. Dammit, she'll get full armor one of these days. Facial wounds hurt like hell, and she's already in for it later.

    If Chelseg comes out after her, it'll find she's already gone, since she hits the ground running, stopping only to listen a moment before aiming at a different (hopefully even more expensive) glass window, this time boot first, as she tries to come in at her target's side.

Shin Tokuyama (756) has posed:
    Finally! The orb is open!

    Shin stomps a foot down, cracking the ground under him as he takes a stance. One hand coils back and into a fist, "Alright! Time to BUST SOME BALLS!"

    It's a really bad catchphrase, and it's a good thing only Allenby is nearby to hear it, as opposed to literally everyone else. He'd lose some serious cool points.

    His right hand begins to erupt and eddy with red ki energy, his hand curling into a fist as he focuses down and gets ready to use his current strongest attack, "Ikken... HISASTU!"

    His hand flashes forward, streaking red energy behind it as it does so. When his fist connects with the orb, the pent up energy releases, trying to punch through it and erupt out the other side in a forceful explosion that sounds like a dragon's roar, "RYUUSOKEN!"

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Ivraala's axe finds her target. Though she had to brave the powerful blizzard spell to do so, the weapon digs deep into the weakened blue dragon. She roars in pain, and then slouches over, life leaving her body.

    "Fooooool... that cursed sword... may it eat at you... and all you hold dear... and may it bring ruin to Azeroth and show the world humanity's true colors..."

    Bit deluded, it seems.
    Had a run-in with someone Ivraala no doubt knows.

    Her body now hunched over, climbing it to reach the inside of the temple is possible. Blue dragons being notorious for hoarding magic, whatever is in there must be valuable and then some.

    But it's not weaponry, or magic, or artifacts.

    There's a clutch of eggs in an icy nest. Only one has hatched, very recently too. A blue whelp makes feeble noises, evidently hungry.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Vernik considers, quietly.

    And then he turns his gaze up at Noa.

    "Fine. Good deal. I hated school anyway. But I want a cool title, and my own hoard and castle eventually. Can't be half-assed, either."

    The grumpy teenager will rise when allowed, rolling his scaled whip back around his arm, which actually looks cool and like he's wearing a big armored wristguard. There's some work to be done there though. This guy isn't that powerful, but then again he's basically a newborn by dragon standards. Give him a few centuries, maybe.

Noa Nuquerna (788) has posed:
     "I have no problem with that," Noa agrees as the dragon stands, "Hell, call yourself Dragonlord if you want, I don't care."

     "We've got a ton to do. Let's roll."

Allenby Beardsley (760) has posed:
    "That's stupid! You destroyed your China, you had your revenge, why are you continuing to dwell on it?" Allenby shouts as both she and the bird plummet to the ground. Fortunately, for Allenby, the phoenix breaks her fall. Moving quickly, if the tails are long enough, she try grabbing one of them to loop around the phoenix's neck. From there, she can pull it tight and slowly choke the phoenix out. "Seriously, you're both THAT butthurt over being insulted that one of you would change your name to some asshole's name to remember it forever?"

    Her attempts to throttle the phoenix are abruptly cut short when the angry dragon pounces and scoops her into his mouth. Right away, Allenby jams herself just inside of his teeth, hands pressing up against the hard pallet of his mouth. Biting all the way down is difficult thanks to Allenby's unnaturally greater strength.

    This predicament prevents her from giving Shin a groan over that bad pun.

    Allenby's muscles tighten as she taps into that writhing anger she's been hiding at the back of her mind ever since Shadowlaw gave her a hand with something. Black and purple shadows roil over the Gundam Fighter's hands, up into the roof of the dragon's mouth. To such a corrupt creature, the power may not even hurt at all since the power is of decidedly evil alignment. Fueled by a sudden desire to kill, faced with an opponent that would no doubt do the same to her, she channels the Psycho Power directly upwards into the most massive energy blast she has pulled off yet. This is, of course, the second time she's used this power in the wild and it only slightly comes more naturally than before.

Sarah Parsle (789) has posed:
"The future is collapsing towards its inevitable point. You thought you had options, but now all you are doing is pushing things towards the only way it had to end." Sarah replies. "You spent your turn dual-gazing with the Beholder, which means it can't use its anti-magic gaze this turn. This frees up my wizard to cast Fireball." She gestures idly. "Right into the middle of your guys. It doesn't affect my rogue because, well." She shrugs. "Statue. Thanks for enabling me to bombard your tightly-clustered formation. Looks like your lich just got interrupted /again/." Sarah replies.

She pauses, watching the dragon carefully. "In before you try to make up a rule on the spot to try to save your bacon." Wait, did she actually somehow read the rules? Or is she just predicting the Puzzlemaster's behavior that hard?

#mindgames #realfakedeathboardgames #gloomtrain2015

Melissa (88) has posed:
    Oh, that's good, Melissa won't have the EMBARRASSMENT of leaping into a pile of pocupine spines! She HAD thought that through, really, she just hadn't expected them to be quite so prolific. So she avoids that! On the downside, it's because of a dragon talon that she avoids that.

    She isn't /caught/ by Humbaba's swing. Reflexes to an inhuman degree are what she's all about. She's still not quite fast enough to just dodge it outright though. Humbaba fails to grab her thanks to an acrobatic twist and flip backward in midair, using her body weight to twirl backward... but the talon still catches her and sends her hurtling through the air, not to mention tearing off a large chunk of her armor. It also sends her plowing facefirst into the ground instead of the elegant landing she'd expected.

    Yanking her helment from the dirt, Melissa shakes her rattled head. "Huh... Faster than I expected. Tricky old bastard, aren't you?" She glances to the grass dragon, back to Humbaba... then tosses a phosphorous grenade toward the grass dragon. "Wonder if he pays attention to the kiddies."

    Then she takes off at a sprint toward... her fallen rifle. She has a plan, now, and as it turns out she can sprint ridiculously fast.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Eiko ducks out! Chelseg ATTEMPTS to follow, slowed as it is by its injuries. Not fast enough to leave the building before Eiko comes back through a window, though. Her boot kicks the massive dragon off its legs and on its side, weakened as it is by having its throat and one eye cut. The crashes, loudly, on the floor.

    "DIE! DIE DIE DIE DIE, HEATHEN!"

    Holy magic again! This time, lances of bright white light form in the air, launching at Eiko one after the other. They pierce, they burn, they cleanse, but they're a lot less threatening than the massive cone of fire moments ago. Also, the dragon is now a sitting duck, since it hasn't risen back up.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Whether Pulao is evil or not, Allenby's strike sears and blasts through its insides just fine. It hurts, beyond compare, to have something like that go off in your mouth and throat. The beast crashes to the ground, not dead, but suffering terribly.

    "Because malice... begets... malice..." it answers.

    Shin smashes the orb. It explodes, kind of like watching a Big Bang. Tiny galaxies and stars and infinite energy that spreads every which way. And then it's gone. The dragon and phoenix revert to their normal colors, the scaled beast green, the phoenix red-orange. And then they dissipate.

    The palace loses the aura.

    There's tons of really valuable stuff around to loot, now, as well as a single large reverse scale from the dragon, and a feather from the phoenix.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    "What-- no! That's impossible!"

    The PUZZLEMASTER gazes at the game board. He panics, and frowns, and screams, and then just flips the board off the table. "You cheated! YOU CHEATED, YOU DAMN, IMPERTINENT TEENAGER!"

    Unfortunately for him, his magic is active. And the loser gets weakened. It's a bit worse for him, really. Call it a curse for having made this game. His body is wrapped in a sudden, glowing sphere of light, and then it implodes.

    It leaves behind, on his throne, a CHESS PIECE modeled after him. A golden dragon chess piece, which seems to contain a fair bit of latent magical power.

    That could be handy when Sarah learns to alchemize stuff.

    YOU GET: 1x PUZZLEMASTER FIGURE

Ivraala (679) has posed:
    Ivraala's breath hisses between her teeth, swirls of cold air rolling through with each heavy breath. The dragon is dead; more of a mercy, in Ivraala's mind, than the slaughter Zaffrigosa believes it to be. She takes a few moments to compose herself, sheathing her axe on her back before straightening up and slowly coiling her bleeding tail around her legs.

    "Perhaps it will," she mutters. "But I will toil to the end of my life to ensure that doesn't happen. May you, at least, find your peace in rest."

    Respectful though her remarks may be, Ivraala's curiosity does get the better of her. The draenei clambers over Zaffrigosa's body, hoisting over her to hop down on the other end inside the temple. What greets her is not at all what she expected.

    Ivraala's cold gaze fixates on the young creature, and shock softens her normally hard expression. Memories barely registered as her own suddenly lock into place; /she/ dealt with such things in the past, hadn't she? Not the person she was now, exactly, but the person she once was, who adored the wilderness and the creatures of all other worlds.

    ...no, that wasn't right. She frowns, shaking her head. Not the person she was, she tells herself, but the person she /is/. It's just a matter of remembering...

    Careful steps carry Ivraala to the nest, where she kneels down in front of the newborn drake and pushes back her hood. She stares at the creature, mulling over her situation; a mother whose children have barely been born, killed by her hands. She used to be a hunter, in tune with nature and its many forms of life. She could care for this child.

    And maybe try to gain a little of herself back, in the process.

    "Come, little one," she murmurs softly to the young drake, carefully reaching out a hand to the creature. "I can get you some food. Your mother may be gone, but...I believe I can care for you, nonetheless. If you will have my aid."

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Melissa's grenade evaporates the grass dragon. RIP it. This does in fact seem to both gaud and anger the larger dragon, who starts stomping towards the Juicer as she heads for her rifle. It doesn't breathe dragons, really; its wounds do, and it could spawn them if it wanted. What it does breathe, though, is...

    It's hard to describe. It's not fire. It's not water. The cone of energy that washes towards Melissa is something between the two elements, imbued by death itself. It's pretty nasty, if you're a nobody. She's not a nobody, thankfully. Might still thing!

    It's also continuously breathing. It sustains the breath weapon and tracks Melissa's location slowly. If she can stay ahead of it it shouldn't be a problem.

Sarah Parsle (789) has posed:
Sarah watches the Puzzlemaster flip out both literally and figuratively. "You can't win them all." Sarah comments into the air, cracking open that cola with a hiss and taking a swig. She pops off the chair, shuffles over, and picks up the PUZZLEMASTER FIGURE, looking it over. "Don't worry, guy. I'll put you to good use." She flips it in her hand, and pops it into her SYLLADEX, safe and sound in her ENIGMA MODUS.

It's going to take her /so long/ to pry everything out when it comes time to start smashing things into each other for powerups and profit.

She walks out, drinking her soda, as she goes to meet with the others outside. Time to see if anyone managed to die.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    The small drake is too young to put up a fight, if it can even understand the concept. It'll mature quickly, in the coming weeks, but Ivraala will have plenty of time to 'imprint' on it, so to speak! A small blue whelp isn't much of a threat, but it might one day grow to be a powerful arcane dragon like its peers, too. It'll only be a few weeks before it learns to shoot arcane energy out of its mouth, really.

    The temple is otherwise pretty barren. Murals and windows depict Malygos in various stages of his life, others how humans greedily sought magic against the Blue Dragonflight's wishes. It's all very one-sided.

Eiko (650) has posed:
    "Yap, yap, make me or kick it."

    The bad news is that the boost is starting to wear off. That's more of a one-hit thing, and two hits was pushing it. Three may be past the limit, given how much time she's had to devote to dodging. She's still got enough buffed up agility to dodge past a few spears, but Chelseg's will to fight is making it hard for her to safely get in and end things. Fortunately, everything around her is on fire.

    "This is the worst idea I've ever had," is what she says while dodging DIRECTLY INTO the the flaming remains of a pew, actually slamming her back into it and coming out with the flames trailing, and a steady stream of invective as the heat not only immediately begins baking her skin, but the flames catch her coat. It's actually agonizing enough that she falters, and one of those holy purifying spears slams into her with a similar "Ghrk!" reaction as a physical weapon would.

    But at least she has what she needed. She is now Burning, and that, as far as she's concerned, is a Curse. Without speaking the word, the fire goes out, and she practically flash-steps her way forward. This time, it really will only last for a few seconds, but that should be all she needs to sprint and leap, spinning in the air and blade falling, too much momentum to stop even if she were hit now, with the edge aimed straight through the white dragon's skull, its good eye first.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Eiko's final acrobatic display puts Cheselg the Holy Cursebearer to rest. Blade piercing his last eye and slipping through the skull, the dragon falls to the floor of the church, dead. Likely to be consumed by its own flames, if Eiko doesn't have a way to drag the body out. The eye of a dragon would be a good enough trophy, and proof the bounty was completed, anyway.

    She'd best not linger in the church too long, though. It won't be too much longer before it all collapses in on itself.

Melissa (88) has posed:
    Wow, uh... that sucks. And Melissa doesn't want to risk her armor taking another hit, especially of mysterious dragon pew pew. Yeah, she'll just... dive-roll toward her rifle, and resume sprinting, with a little crispiness along her heels that is really starting to get uncomfortable! But... now she has her rifle.

    She fires off two quick shots toward the giant beast, very specific shots. It's a storm rifle, and it tends to set shit on fire. She has noticed that those wings are feathered, after all. Good targets. She only has time for two shots before the death-beam slags her rifle and sears her arm, forcing a little grunt of pain through her before the pain-blockers in her Biocomp shunt it away. The armor on her arm is completely gone, and her regeneration is kicking in... but it's pretty slow, as such things go.

    It's probably pretty stupid of her to charge /toward/ Humbaba now, isn't it? But that's what she's doing.

Allenby Beardsley (760) has posed:
    Even if the blast does not kill the dragon, it provides Allenby the valuable time needed to get out from between the dragon's jaws. She does successfully, leaping to the ground and rolling onto her feet. She spins in place to see the broken orb and witnesses the dragon and phoenix change to original forms...then vanish.

    Allenby scoops up the feather and tucks it behind her left ear. "Nice one, Shin!" she calls out cheerfully, giving the Combat Vagrant a thumbs up. "I guess now all that's left is looting the place...?" She shrugs, not super excited about dragon hoards, but happy to take valuables off of a dead dragon's claws either way.

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Humbaba's wings are now on fire. This is very, very unpleasant, and since the wounds are scorched and cauterized, it doesn't bleed and spawn dragons. Which, all in all, is probably an unexpected plus. Or did Melissa bank on it?

    A roar of pain interrupts its death beam breath. Melissa charges for it, and it answers in kind. The dragon lumbers towards her, raising its claws and bringing them down like thunder as she comes in range. No doubt this could flatten a car, so it's a test of her reflexes. And since its wings are on fire it's not like it can take off now. Why it doesn't try to put them out instead of crushing Melissa is a mystery.

Eiko (650) has posed:
    "Well, shit. I should have brought the loot truck, after all." Though that wouldn't, exactly, give Eiko a way to pull the body out. At least she has plenty of ways out, herself. "Alright, damn you. Cut off the important bits. Twenty seconds."

    She's already working as she talks, fairly quickly for all the grumbling, as she reaches in and, pretending for the moment that she's not all at squeamish, pulls out and cuts off one or both of Chelseg's eyes. She'll take some scales or a horn if her sword can hack through it in time. If not, into the pack goes what she has, back onto her shoulder, and then she's fleeing through the window, breaking yet more of the remaining panes in the process.

    A few snapped photos from her smartphone should help cover the 'proof' part.

Shin Tokuyama (756) has posed:
    Shin wastes no time picking up the scale off the ground and tucking it into his backpack as he gives Allenby a thumbs up, "Man. What an interesting fight. What if it was some crazy foreshadowing analogue to us going nuts over someone betraying us and becoming supervillains? Wouldn't that be nuts."

    He lets out a heavy laugh while he looks around. He has no interest in gold or treasure, and he has the scale already. He's gonna have to use the scale with the ore Ysabel gave him and make something, eventually. He's avoiding grabbing treasure that will disrupt his vagrancy, though he picks up a FEW coins to put in his bag in case he wants to treat himself to a real hotel some day.

Melissa (88) has posed:
    Melissa is supernaturally tough and a regenerator, but even she can't handle too many direct strikes from a dragon. That's not how she fights them though. She fights them by not taking direct hits, and that means she kicks off the ground and dives aside... almost in time. The claw slamming down hits hard enough that even the close call shears down her armor's side, and now blood is leaking from her thigh.

    But he's pissed off. Good.

    All Melissa wants to do is get just a little closer to try snapping off one of those spines. She has yet to really use her unnatural strength, but she's going to try for a spine and use that as a lance in between the scales. "Huh, if I'd known I'd be fighting Hedgehog the Progenitor I'd have brought a vibrolance."

Mordred (12) has posed:
    Melissa seizes one of the dragon's needly scales and weaponizes it. It lodges firmly into it-- and then Humbaba SLAMS onto the ground, hard. The blood that flows from the edges of that wound is discolored, as though poisoned. Did she dodge a hell of a bullet when she avoided its back by being near-grabbed? It would seem so.

    Between its own venom and its wings being reduced to scorched husks, the Progenitor does not rise. It isn't DEAD. It's still breathing, and, presumably, given time, it would purge the poison, regenerate its wings, and get back up. Melissa likely doesn't intend to give it that time, though, but maybe the thought of using everyone present to get the thing alive might cross her mind at all, and it probably wouldn't be impossible.

    Either way, it's down and paralyzed.

Melissa (88) has posed:
    The biocomp probably would have kept any poison from KILLING her, but it would still have gone into Melissa's system, and it may have slowed her quite a lot. Enough to let Humbaba finish the job. She probably did dodge a bullet there. That just gives her more of a sick thrill, because that's what Juicers live for anyway! "Well damn. Been a long time since one put up a fight like that." Her regeneration is already knitting her wounds back together, but she's still limping over to the head of the beast.

    Briefly, she considers actually keeping it alive... yeah, that's a thing that could be useful. She'll call for pickup as soon as she....

    Slams her foot down at the base of the neck, to shatter a vertebrae. Dragons are easier to deal with if they're paralyzed, and that'll take even a regenerator a while to fix. Hopefully long enough to haul him out. Besides, if he starts moving she can just shoot him in the eye. "Good game, old one. Definitely one of the more memorable ones."

Mordred (12) has posed:
    A satisfying CRACK announces Melissa's success. Humbaba groans and roars, but doesn't speak. What the Juicer has now is a sample of extreme draconic purity. Whether it compares to the dragons of her world is another matter, but it's pretty high-grade stock. And worst-case, she could sell it for a pretty sum if its blood wound up useless.

    Just don't spill any of it on living surfaces.