Heyo, everyone! After a wild and wooly (meaning stressed out previous) week, and a restorative weekend, here I am with the Christmas Eve version of Friday Fictioneers. Coming up soon will be a longer story from me, but until then, here’s my latest entry:
by Miles H. Rost
The adventuring party waited at the bottom of the stairs, as the scout came bolting down.
“Alright. Up at the top of the steps and about 50 feet in is an Ancient Red Dragon.”
“A RED dragon?” the Wizard said, squeaking out the color.
“We’re level 15, not level 65. That’s what Red Dragons are. No way we’re going in,” the leader of the party told them.
The lot agreed, and bypassed the stairs as they went towards the distant Swamp of Salinity.
Up the stairs, the Red Dragon opened it’s eyes and sighed.
“Why won’t people take a chance on me?” he said to himself, “I’m a lovable guy. I even have cookies! I just want people to talk with…”
A tear fell down his scales as he curled back up.