Game 3Game 3 Outline| Game 3 |
Game 3 Outline |
The Raven quickly flies forward and grabs the back of your shirt with its beak, pulling you out from between the dragon's toes. Once you are free, you sit down in shock at the prospect of it all. Dragons, witches, and a talking raven. Suddenly you remember your camera and fumble with the lens, taking as many shots of the dragon as you can. The dragon, on the other hand has lowered its head to look at you. It's head is so low, in fact, you could reach out and touch it, but you decide against it; the smell of sulfur and brimestone is enough to convince you that this is a dragon of fire breathing type, and you are little more than a match stick to it. The Dragon snorts at you. "A little small for a human", he says. "Thats the point," says the raven, Artie if you remember right. "He could do it, I'm sure of it!"
You are in the middle of reloading your camera, when the dragon picks you up with the tips of his claws. You are suspended in the air what seems like thousands of feet up. "YOU, human, whats your name?", he breathes out. You quickly stammer out your name for the dragon. The dragon sighs as if in relief, "A puny man name if ever I heard one. Okay, I think you'll do." He places you down carefully. He then turns and walks into his cave. "Come on," says Artie, "Shake a wing, you have a big job ahead of you."
"Would you mind telling me what's going on?", you ask. You are sitting in the dragon's cave, on a boulder to you, but a small stone by normal standards. The Cave is a lot different than you would expect from a dragon. Shelves are carved into the walls, where several bottles of multi-colored liquids reside. Books are scattered around the cave, in languages you do not recognize. "We have chosen you to take on a grand quest," says the dragon. "To recover my spark." The dragon is lying down, half submerged in a pool of bubbling waters. From the smell that comes from it, you're guessing it's a hot spring. His lower half is submerged, while his upper body is crouched like a lion out of the water. "What's a spark," you ask, "and why me?", eyeing the tape recorder that you had started, and hoping it was getting all this. Artie flutters down from one of the shelves. "A spark is a dragon's essence, his life force, and his flame." He looks at you. "We chose you for this because you can fit through the keyhole of the chamber that holds the spark."
"Ok, back up a bit," you say, "How did all of this happen?" The dragon stirs a little and speaks, "I am sure you have met the woman of the castle, raven haired and fair; no doubt she caused your current predicament." You nod. "She is the Lady Morgana, Queen of the Unseelie court of fairies, Mistress of the Shadows and ruler of night. All things wrong with the world usually are caused by her minions." You look up from the notepad you have been desperately writing in. "So you're saying that things like war, pollution, and murders are caused by her?" Artie butts in. "No, those things are caused by the actions of men; but the feelings and conflicts that start the chain of events are her doing. Her minions cause mischief and strife among mortal men, turning brother against brother and father against son." As the crow finishes, the dragon continues. "Morgana seeks to dominate all. She is trying to gain possession of the great powers of the world, myself included. During my sleep, she came upon me and stole my spark, and now I am bound to do her bidding whenever, and for whatever she calls. All she need do is summon me, and I shall be forced to obey" "Why?", you ask. "She has my essence, my fire, my soul. It is my will to live, and she controls it," he says in a very sad voice. A blood-red tear trickles down his scaly face. "If he doesn't serve her", adds Artorious, "she will draw the light out of the spark. It would do worse than kill him. It would be a different matter if she extinguished it, then it could just be relit; but to draw the light out would make it a dark flame, and he would be just an empty shell without thought or feeling." You continue writing on your pad; this is gold, solid gold.
"We require you to slip into the castle. Artie will help you with this and guide you to the chamber. After you slip through the keyhole, however, you are on your own." The dragon hands you a tiny leather pouch. "You will need these." Inside you find some strange looking herbs, and a tiny bottle of shimmering powder. "The herbs you must take as soon as you enter the chamber. Morgana will have it enchanted to enslave and transform any intruder. This will keep your mind free, but not your body. The powder is from Lysander, Lord of the Seelie court; it will allow you to use a small amount of fairy Glamour. Use it to make it past any guards you meet, or to hide yourself if need be." You nod, and slide the bag onto your shoulder. The crow lands by you and drops something at your feet. "No knight should be without a weapon," he says. You pick the item up by its hilt. It is a sword, a tiny one, constructed out of crystal. It almost seems to hum. "What is it?" you ask, awestruck at the sight of it. "A gift from Lysander himself; his sword. May it bring light to the darkest of places." You slide the sword into its jewel-encrusted holder. You then climb onto Artie's back and almost instantly the ground falls away as you soar through darkness toward the ominous shape of the castle.
Written by Dream Weaver (edited by wanderer)