9!, 6
Are we a dragon or are we a dragon? You step past the door, then charge down the corridor - the lamplighter mummy only notices you and turns its head in time for you to rip it smoothly off with one set of wing-claws, neatly capturing its jug of lamp oil in the other. You perch atop the toppling corpse's shoulder and let out a bellow, your bestial roar echoing across the chamber and waking the dead. You hop for a moment, letting the corpse fall the rest of the way before landing smoothly on it and watching as all across the chamber sarcophagus lids begin to slide off their caskets and brown-wrapped figures slither forth to do battle.
2 | 6, 3
As you touch down to the headless corpse, the first dozen mummies just rush in without any co-ordination, some holding ancient glaives, others weaponless, and you breathe in and let the death-flowers bloom in your chest. You manage to catch the entire first dozen in three quick successive blasts of fire, then spin to catch the half-dozen that have crept up behind - your focus on the now flaming dozen left your flank exposed, and it is all you can do to fend off their blades with your claws.
2 | 1!, 9!!
You are forced quickly into a backwards chase, trying desperately to get any fire out of your stomach - but you've blown your entire load in the first salvo! You find yourself backed against the wall between two sarcophagi as a horde of eighteen or so mummies press down on you with their glaives and claws, scoring your flesh, blood flowing freely from the wounds their blades inflict, the blood pumping so hard your own heartbeat drowns out everything else - and something inside you snaps. Everything is filmed in red, and -
- you wrenched the Ophidian commander's head off between your claws, biting down on another's chest and separating her humanoid torso from her serpentine tail with a single clamp of your enormous jaws and felt the sweet blood drain down your throat, then hurled the commander's head into the oncoming phalanx, bowling down half a dozen of their warriors as you prepared your next charge -- then you leap into the midst of the mummies you just knocked down with their comrade's skull and roar in fury as you savage bodies left and right with tooth and claw. When the red film clears, all eighteen are in fragments around you and the next ragged wave is cautiously approaching.
1 | 7!, 3
You throw yourself at the approaching bands of mummies and let out flame after flame, sending them scurrying in hissing, burning packs. A few stragglers manage to make it through your flames as you choke back, feeling your throat burn from overuse. You weakly fight back against these stragglers, your strength drained and entirely focused on defending yourself.
3 | 6, 3
You manage to find a last gasp of gas within yourself and let it loose as the scrambling crowd begin to pour all over you - their wrappings alight and the undead begin desperately trying to put themselves out, giving you the chance to run out from between their legs, only to find yet another dozen ready and waiting to slay you. All of them are armed with glaives and, emerging right between their feet when completely out of breath, you desperately dodge between stabbing blades in search of a clear space.
4 | 1!, 3
Worse still, this band is coordinated. They all appear to be fairly skilled warriors, holding their glaives in a unified block, and when you exhale your sputtering breath they separate for a moment so that only a handful are hit (and even those do not burn for long) while the rest circle around and manage to land a deep cut that pierces your flimsy scales, blood gushing over the blade. It is all you can do to fight back and stay alive as more reinforcements emerge to join the block of pole-mummies.
3 | 8!, 7!
You find yourself fought back to the centre of the long chamber, scrabbling for any escape you can find until your claws clatter against a slender bronze handle. Seizing hold of the bronze jug full of lamp oil, you hurl it into the air above the block of spear-mummies and blast it with the little fire breath you can manage. The jug's contents catch fire and as the bronze jug spins lashes of lamp oil cover the mummies and a huge splash emerges as the jug hits the floor. The whole gang bursts into flames, shattering their formation. You take down the few stragglers with your claws and make your way into one of the side chambers as the occupants are still getting out of their caskets (what do you know, they're full of more sarcophagi) and proceed to butcher the hell out of them while covered in dust, dry ancient flesh, burning mummy wrappings and pints and pints of your own blood.
2 | 6, 8!
You take advantage of the space cleared by your most recent slaughter to claw your way back to the centre of the room, take a few good breaths and let the gases rebuild in your stomach. The last caskets open and your foes charge in one last hurrah, forming two waves of twenty and a dozen mummies - you expel every last dram of gas you have in the ensuing blast, lighting up the first wave in a circle of flame around you and challenging the last survivors to come and take you - which they valiantly try, clambering through the flaming wreckage of their companions and catching alight in the process. With the absolute last of your strength you cut down the handful that make it as far as you, punching the dried black heart and spine out of the very last one before collapsing in exhaustion.
You sit atop a pile of corpses, smoking, charred and still burning in places. Jagged wounds stripe your flank and the bleeding is only now beginning to slow down - you are battered and bloody, but victorious. Fully one hundred and twenty one foes lie dead before you, and you can hear the roaring of your ancestors in your ears. It is
glorious.
GLORY! GLORY! GLORY!A) LOOT. You are battered and bloody, but you have surely earned a hoard of prizes here.
B) KILL. One last fight remains to claim this place for your own.
!!!C) SLEEP. You are exhausted and severely injured. Pile up a bit of loot on these corpses and get some shut-eye - not enough to grow, just enough to hopefully heal your injuries.
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Topic: SPAMDRAGON: Swamp Baron (Read 39525 times)