Into the Dragon's Den
Posted on Mon Oct 3rd, 2022 @ 4:46pm by Cornelius Warner MS & Caithlin t'Leiya & Thaddeus Yu Dr & Lieutenant Gunnar Arnason & Raikael t'Leiya & Seshi Macae
3,099 words; about a 15 minute read
Mission:
Roll With It
Location: Bray Foundation, Exterior
Timeline: MD 02:
The jaunt from the Silver Tongue was greeted with the informational jabberings from the yellow produce perched on Seshi's shoulder. Now that the group was going where the banana insisted they head, it seemed content to settle and provide an eerily tutorial-like explanation of the abilities that the group had.
So, while they walked, Seshi found herself experimenting with the 'chaos magic' that the banana had outlined. That it would only produce odd effects if she was after a bigger punch. But smaller spells? Those were a piece of cake. Thus far, she managed to spew confetti, produce shining, rainbow butterflies, and create trumpeting elephant noises, all with a flick of the wrist.
"Well, if any of these odd monsters are weak to bedazzling, I think I have it all in the bag," she commented in annoyance.
"I'll stick with the sword." Caithlin muttered, seemingly also annoyed, probably at the situation overall, though possibly also at the potential notice any of the magic tricks the banana was doling out might have drawn to their group. "Since in the end it seems to work exactly like they always do: You put the pointy ends or edges to your opponent."
"I only have a knife. Having even a little magic would be cool," Zoe said, watching the special effects was practicing.
"You're in luck then. You have bardic magic," the banana thing said brightly. "You have basic cantrips like invisible hand, but with your music you can inspire or enhance abilities in others, and heal wounds and minor ailments."
"She has healing?" That could be useful, but Gunnar couldn't help feeling a bit envious. Little as he liked singing in public, he'd gladly trade warrior for skald.
As if hearing that in his voice, the bananaman turned to Gunnar. "Yes, but you aren't entirely without magic. You have a bear totem spirit, so while raging -"
"Excuse me," Gunnar interrupted. "While What?"
"Raging," the talking banana repeated. "You know, when you're in a battle rage."
There was pause as Gunnar processed that and everyone who actually knew him wore varying incredulous expressions. Zoe swallowed a snicker, thinking of Nurse Lizza's snarky joke that could just about picture Arnason in a horned helmet - except for the 'Mild-Mannered Nice Guy' practically stamped on his forehead.
"Um, there must be some mistake," Gunnar finally managed. "I do not rage. I don't think I've ever raged, and certainly not in a battle."
"But you're a Barbarian," the banana explained, as if to a stereotypically slow-witted fighter type. "You enter a berserker state, giving you superhuman strength and resilience."
Gunnar almost visibly cringed at the word berserker. It wasn't that he hadn't grokked the possible significance of the bearskin and other signs - parts of his homeland did a good tourist trade by playing up Viking heritage, even the completely ahistorical horned helmets, and anyone who'd taken basic history and heritage as a schoolkid knew the sagas - but hearing it stated was still a jolt. "No." The word was flat and firm, not so much denial as absolute rejection. "First, I am not a barbarian. I am a Starfleet officer. Second, battle frenzy is a known psychophysiological response among both humans and non-humans, but even if some of my distant ancestors were berserkir, I am not prone to it. Lastly, even when a segment of my people wore things vaguely," he waved a hand at his outfit, emphasizing the 'vaguely' since most it was more cosplay than reproduction, "they weren't barbarians. Yes, they were raiders, and conquerors since good farmland was sparse where they came from, but they also had trial by jury, democracy, and were generally more egalitarian and communitarian than most of the kingdoms who called them barbarians."
Caithlin half-stifled a soft laugh (but considering the relative lack of things on the line in doing so, didn't bother doing so completely) at this all; the idea of Gunnar in a battle rage was...well, about as ridiculous as he was protesting it was.
"Careful there, Lt. Arnason," Zoe said, brows rising an uncharacteristic touch of temper in his tone. "You're starting to sounded a little ...miffed."
His head snapped around to her, mouth opening ...then the finger raised in objection instead lifted to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I'm not 'miffed'. Just annoyed. And feeling a lack of coffee."
"Possibly one of the best Earthling inventions, that." Caithlin said as to the last bit, and flicked her eyes at the banana. "So. What do I gain from...Whatever this is?" She waved a hand abortively at her current guise.
"As an elf princess, you have enhanced strength, speed, reflexes, and grace and accuracy compared to most species!" The banana announced enthusiastically. "Additionally, you have a special communion with animals and the forest."
"So; since I already had the first part of that; and since we appear to be in a town, not a forest...The answer is basically 'nothing'." Caithlin surmised in a 'completely over this' tone with a shrug of her eyebrows, leaving the banana looking miffed itself, in so much as a talking banana could. "What about her?" Caithlin jerked the edge on her chin to indicate her niece.
"As an elf rogue and ninja, she posses similar traits to yours, but with a trained ability to move silently and covertly and gain access to objects and spaces." The banana continued.
"That will be a level up from prior then, at least." Caithlin raised one eyebrow contemplatively: Raikael was a trained gymnast, and was decently trained in various combat and survival arts and other areas for her age, she supposed; but 'for her age' was key; the girl wasn't even quite 11 yet, and prone to frequent, age-appropriate errors from lack of knowledge, lack of practice, and lack of control alike. Caithlin smirked at Cornelius for a moment, considering his garb versus that her niece wore. "Perhaps she is meant to be your apprentice."
"Ah, the assassin!" the Plantae inspired fever dream proudly exclaimed. At this Cornelius finally paused his annoyed walk forward and looked back at the being. "A master with lockpicks and moving in the shadows unseen, aided by your collection of potent poisons!" With this Cornelius rolled his eyes. "When concealed from your enemies, either in shadow or with a party member's willing distraction you can find weaknesses and stike at them with dangerous precision and ferocity!"
The bartender stared at the banana and looked about finding a bit of shade from one of the buildings, only to step into it, waving his arms around. "I still look pretty seen to me," he quipped, prepping to step into the light. With a deftness that surprised even the former spook, bananaman had crossed the space and pulled his hood over his head, and the oddest of optical illusions happened where even knowing where he was standing a minute ago, the gather individuals found it hard to focus on where he stood. "Well I'll be damned, but I still have no idea what any of the poisons do," he said, almost as if to save himself from the moment of embarrassment.
"When you need them, you'll know!" it shouted loudly causing him to reach out and silence it. It's muffled speaking lead him to offer a hushed threat.
"If you give away our position I'll try them on you," he bit off sharply before letting go. Pulling his hood down, he stepped back into the light. "Assassin," he scoffed under his breath, before looking to Caithlin before a bright streak of red crossed his face. "All this nonsense, and for what?" he asked, more to the universe than to anyone in particular.
Caithlin gave a small nod of agreement at the 'if you give away our position...' comment; at least someone else was aware of such concerns. At Cornelius' last though, she simply shrugged her eyebrows up and down and picked her way around some rocks in the dirt road. "If we are lucky, perhaps we will find the answers at the Bray building. Or, if nothing else, some better weapons and supplies." She swept her eyes quickly over the landscape and then back to the group as a whole. "We should be at it soon...Whatever it may have become."
The banana's babblings quieted down as the group arrived at the base of the Bray facility. Where it once stood, a gargantuan mountain loomed above the group, and at the base of that was an equally intimidating-looking cave.
Seshi tilted her head to one side. "... Dare I ask, Sir Banana, what in heavens and stars we're doing here?"
"We're facing the final boss!" The banana piped up, ignoring the earlier threats to quiet him down, "The Ever-Encompassing, Grand Wyrm God, Deragona the Green!"
And, as if on cue, a loud roar bellowed from the depths of the cavern.
"...Final...boss?" Caithlin frowned at the unfamiliar term; though the context and the roar seemed to indicate whatever a 'boss' was in this instance, it was unlikely to be beneficial to them.
"Ooooh, I wanna fight the dragon!" Raikael called eagerly, meanwhile, moving forward in preteen impulse before her aunt's hand came down on her shoulder in an iron grip stopping her in her tracks, quickly enough that clearly the child's move had perhaps been anticipated on Caithlin's part.
Cornelius looked down at the sword he'd acquired from Gunnar and then to the banana man. His eyes narrowed, and he huffed a little to himself. "A dragon?" The sound was far more accusatory than he'd meant, but it accurately described his disdain in the moment. "You got a way to make a repeating crossbow to make that remotely even?"
Gunnar had halfway reached for Raikael - almost pure habit after having watched her so often when she was younger - but aborted a grab when he saw Caithlin restrain her. "I think a better question is, do we actually have to fight the dragon? It's in its cave, minding its own business. Breaking and entering is generally not a good idea, but especially when the householder is a beast with a reputation as a fierce guardian."
"Quite right." Caithlin gave a small, decisive dip of her head to the statements. Only a fool deliberately provoked an enemy without cause or without having first assessed the odds of victory and deemed the cause worthwhile or feasible. Despite his regrettable hesitance with weaponry and self-defense, moments like this reminded her of the virtues he possessed that had likely been part of what had drawn her sister and brother-in-law to take Gunnar into the fold in the first place.
"If they're anything like dragons from Earth myth they can be reasoned with. They're intelligent, and their caves are often filled with traps that make fighting them a fool's errand at the best of time," Cornelius added. He looked around at the gather group and shrugged. "Unless one of you is a wizard, I'd say our chances of actually slaying the beast and not ending up dead are slim, doubly so if we fight it in the lair. So we convince it to come out, make a deal and send it on its way."
Thaddeus had been following behind the group trying to assess his options. He still considered it a better idea to be in a group than to be solo. However the yellow talking thing seem to be providing answers that didn't always please. He still had little idea of what he was capable of other than his priest idea. What a priest did in this situation was beyond him. Then again what a priest did in most situations was beyond him. Neither parent had been particualy religious. He really needed a drink; and his blood boiled at the thought of a fight. Still he was going to hang back more to find out what sort of beast a 'dragon' was.
"It sounds like a coffee brand," Seshi commented lightly, and was about to interject more of an opinion when a great, green claw slammed down from the inside of the cavern itself. A pair of glowing eyes appeared, and soon came the snout and whiskered visage of the aforementioned dragon.
"Who dares approach the cavern of Deragona!?" bellowed the creature, peering below at the gathered party. "Speak, or I shall dissolve each and every one of you!"
"We are seeking use of the treasure which allows passage through the barrier to the great beyond!" Raikael called out dramatically, perhaps fancying herself a player in one of the games some of her friends on Earth had run; though exactly what she imagined would do so - or had caused any of this - was both debatable and unknown. But ten year olds of many species had knacks for both fantasy and improvisations, and while her aunt had a lockgrip on her shoulder, for better or for worse no one had a hand over the girl's mouth...or her ears, having perhaps taken some of her cues from listening to Cornelius' earlier suggestion about making a deal.
The great beast turned its massive head to the bold Romulan youth. "My treasure? And what, miniature snack, believes you to be worthy of laying eyes upon any of my treasures, let alone the greatest treasure I own?"
"Whilst we have heard tales of your power and greatness, indeed; but surely, there is something of which you have need or desire?" Raikael replied; but apparently she was definitely making this up as she went along, because her eyes flicked in turn to Caithlin, who'd kept the grip on her shoulder but moved up to her side in case she felt they needed to move quickly, then rapidly to Gunnar and to Cornelius, the last one probably only out of a hope that he had a better idea of 'making a deal with the dragon' than 'ask the dragon if there's anything it wants'.
Though under no illusion that he could in any way take on a dragon, Gunnar had reflexively stepped up to Raikael's other side, the protectiveness from prior years spent babysitting her coming to the fore. There was also a strange warmth, a sort of pride - despite being eager to fight a dragon only moments ago, she had opted for dialog and negotiation. Maybe he'd managed in small part to impart a good influence?
On the other hand, this was definitely not like the any of the 'dragons' he'd seen on Berengaria VII, Maravel, or Hysperia, and he was very much regretting not having a ring of invisibility or some such as the only story he knew of someone surviving a face to face with a giant sentient dragon pretty much required that. Particularly with a creature who referred to them as snacks - a fact that made Raikael's offer a bit too open-ended, especially if this one was based on old earth Western dragons who often had a taste for virgins. "Obviously there is little we can offer to one of your power and magnificence that you could not obtain for yourself, but perhaps there is some service we could provide so that you would not have leave your treasure unguarded?"
The dragon turned his attention to Gunnar, looking the man's garb and smiling a big, toothy smile. "A man such as yourself, barbarian?"
A muscle in Gunnar's jaw twitched at 'barbarian', but he was not going to rehash his recent objections to a dragon even if he halfway feared whatever being had put them here was planning on good laugh at making him take on a stereotypical barbarian warrior role. "If there is something you require that will allow us access the necessary treasure, I will undertake it," he replied resolutely.
"With your friends here?" The dragon peered toward the rest of the group. "An assassin, two elf specialists, a bard, and a sorceress? I believe there is." He took a step back, head gesturing deeper into the cavern. "I have this... wizard within. I thought to take him for prisoner, or jester of sorts, as he insists he owns this cavern. But that is nonsense; this cavern is mine and mine alone. He has not taken this well, and I have found myself plagued with his conjurations. My newfound friends, I would very much like for these conjurations to be disposed of. Do this, and I will grant you access to this treasure you seek."
Having kept quiet, Cornelius now stepped forward. He was used to illusions and tricks, that much was common when you spent time with intelligence types. "And what types of conjurations are these?" His words were careful, guarded. Sliding the hood from the top of his head now, he looked up to face the beast, it's own reflection caught in the lenses of his glasses. "I am sure someone of your strength and prowess would be possessed of the power to dispel simple tricks. Are you sure he has not tried to poison or otherwise befuddle you?" It was a delay, a way to try and find a space that would ensure they weren't trapped. His hand brushed against his bag, and a surge ran through his brain, a little tidbit of knowledge. An assassin always carries poisons, but antidotes too. Maybe there was something in that that would help?
"In that, you are right, assassin. Poisons do little to me, but he is... annoying, and refuses to leave." The dragon huffed in frustration, a puff of greenish-grey smoke billowing from his mouth. "His conjurations, they are... strange to say the least. I have not seen anything like it. Scrolls on walls... bright lights, and languages I have never seen before. Befuddled would be the most accurate descriptor."
"Scrolls on walls, that sounds like-" Zoe stopped at hand signal from Arnason. Specifically, the 'shush' she'd seen any number of times when her fellow volunteers started talking too near patients about things they shouldn't. She might not particularly respect his 'nice guy/do no harm' bent, but he was Starfleet and one thing she had noticed was that he was observant, really good at picking up on situations (Well, other than Hanna and Emily having massive crushes on him. But she was beginning to think that might be willful ignorance).
Gunnar straightened to his full height and lifted his hands to the dragon. "We will gladly deal with this wizard. Point us to where we can find him."
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