Rule #7 - "never split up"

The druid-cum-condor dived down the side of the step and marvelled at the scale of the thing. And every now and then he could spot the occasional building sprouting from the wall or large hundred-yard-wide caves.

Unable to contain his curiosity, the druid flew in through a window of a nearby construction and called out in Common "anyone there?"

After a moment, the head of an ugly woman poked round the corner followed by a pair of wings and naked body. "Why, what a tasty looking meal," said the harpy.

The druid turned and flapped for the window and freedom but the harpy's singing filled his ears so he stopped his escape. Turning round, he walked towards the creature and watched as it ripped his body apart, singing all the while...

"So where are we?" "Somewhere between 'rock' and 'hard place'"

Quickly the paladin raced over to the smouldering bodies of the druid and priest to bring them back from the brink with her magical healing. Once conscious, the pair took over and cured their own damage themselves.

Now in better shape, the druid got to work with a borrowed sword to hack away at the dragons to peel away their hide, hoping to get enough for some artisan to make into leather armour. While he cut away, in the distance could be seen a quartet of sand speeders, skiing quickly across the wasteland towards the battle site.

Soon four giants steered their craft in front of the party and confronted them. First they accused the adventurers - and especially the druid - of laying a trap for the red dragons by taunting them with brass dragon excrement and so causing their death. Then the giants demanded that the dragons be replaced with new pets for Umzik Fasshnorian, the tribal leader. The alternative was death.

To emphasize this, the spokesman threw down a flask and black, oily gas billowed out amongst the party. The Unholy Blight brought the paladin to her knees as she threw up helplessly into the sand while the scout and druid winced in pain. The giants and their craft were soon gone again in the direction of the glass castle.

The trek back to the tower was uneventful but wet as the party no longer had magical protection from rainfall. before they reached their destination, though, the druid decided that providing what the giants wanted wasn't possible and departed on the wing. With a Ring of Featherfall and the body of a Condor, the druid decided that the gut-wrenching drop to the next step was preferable to having his head impaled on a giant-sized pike for the vultures to peck at.

The party, now short four members (the wizard, the druid and companion, and the guide) returned to the tower and handed over the metal report book. Their diabolical sponsor was incensed that the giants allowed Chaotic dragons to dwell amongst them and dashed off a banning order (written in the monk's fresh blood which happened to be handy) insisting that the castle dwellers desist from such mad practices. Was one Chaotic dragon not enough without bringing more into the world? "Deliver this order right away."

The party decided that this meant in a couple of days once they had healed up, replaced their scorched equipment and brought reinforcements into the party. The Strip, as usual, was busy with people and creatures trading news and looking for work. The adventurers managed to recruit a pair of new members, including a horned singer/dancer of obvious diabolic descent.

Freshly prepared, the journey was started again back to the blasted land and the fire giants. The dancer's local and Bardic knowledge had provided some insight into where they needed to go, as did some information gathering amongst the traders. On the far side of the blasted land, a giant-sized path snaked its way down the dizzyingly steep sides of the cone to a chain of castles and caverns where fire giants and red dragons ruled. Red wyrmlings should be available there for raising by giant tribes.

Nearing the blasted land, a glow could be seen under the sand ahead. The dancer identified it as a lava ooze flowing slowly along, leaving a trail of glass behind it. Carefully the party crept by.

Incoming!

The red dragon took a bite out of the druid (and received a few telling wounds for her trouble) before the fire giant priest intimidated her into temporary submission. Flying up to the roof, she sat and watched as the adventurers set off back to the pit fiend's tower. Klaul and her sister, Xazeda, exchanged knowing looks. Soon the little creatures would be out of sight of the castle's lookouts and fair game.

Five miles out, the druid glanced over his shoulder and saw a couple of black specks rise up from the shining tower. "Oh dear," he thought. "We have about ten minutes to live."

As Klaul swooped in low over the glass-studded sand, the party fired as many arrows into the air as they could before she reached them but in vain. Fiery death poured down upon them and both the druid and priest fell to the sand wreathed in flame.

Death looked certain until a brass dragon roared a challenge as it flew in. Klaul was already wounded from the short combat at the castle and the volley of arrows so wasn't in the best of health for a head-to-head battle with an older dragon, especially one that seemed to be Displaced. Xazeda used the insight from True Strike magic to damage their mortal foe a few times but the end was in sight. Hath could outfly the reds and avoid their claws and teeth half the time so moments later two bleeding corpses lay steaming on the sand under the hot sun.

With another bellow, the brass dragon was back on the wing and off to its hidden lair to recuperate. The party, now free from the panic induced by Hath's frightful presence, could only look on and be thankful.

Experience
Fending off Klaul, the red dragon (CR7) - 150 xp each
Quivering before Hath's presence - 50 xp each

Note - any equipment possessed by adventurers that received the full impact of Klaul's breath is damaged and should be replaced when possible.