You are a young dragon. Nothing particularly special, despite your heritage, but you find yourself lord of all that you see before you. Twelve houses, a shoddy palisade, some sixty five mortals, and a dream. You came here just days ago, leading, threatening, cajoling, bribing, and kidnapping mortals from your parents' realm to stake your claim, build your hoard, grow your horns, and finally, prove them wrong.
There are no curses on this land, Andor, Kythra's old moldy books had called it. You'd already scoured the landing site for magic, and all you'd found was wispy residuals from a battle long past. You'd already spent a week, despite the stories saying you'd not last a day before the great monster of these lands killed you. Certainly, your little kingdom was... well, it left things to be desired. It could be bigger, richer, fatter, the mortals could complain less. You could have more time were you not busy hunting your own food and herding wild animals to the villages. But what was a little hardship in the face of the first steps to greatness?
Because, after all, this village was yours. Not your parents'. Not something borrowed from your siblings. Yours. Now, and forever. Nothing else mattered. Just like a hoard, you'd grow it from scratch. Just like the legends of old, Hu Mang Yus and his mountain of treasures and daily feats, the Deep One's underwater cavern of magic and mana so pure it burns your eyes just to see, and the Sky Serpent's cloudy palace and showers of gold. You'd join their ranks in time.
After all, this land was completely empty. You hadn't found a single mortal settlement, even thirty miles inland. Nothing up or down the coast either. Strange, but also very good for your village. Their progeny would strike this earth and you wouldn't have to fight a single other being for it. Nothing could prevent your inevitable rise to glor-
A cry of alarm interrupts your thoughts. Your mortals are panicking and running back towards the village. You grudgingly raise yourself off the large boulder around which the village is built. It's not a mountain lair, but you had to make do. You suppose you should see what the mortals are fussing about.
Standing up
[ ] You launch yourself on scaled wings.
You are a proud dragon of the traditional, or as other breeds term it the "common", sort with massive wings and a scaly hide. Your parents always held that Andor was your birthright. They were too frightened to try and reclaim it for themselves, but you are not so cowardly.
Gain Toughness: Tier 1
[ ] Your shaggy legs propel you off the rock
With shaggy fur and a muscular frame you are a predator through and through. You set off from Kaldgrim in a small flotilla of longships containing your followers. This land is a little too hot for you, but it's nothing you can't handle.
Gain Strength: Tier 1
[ ] You lift into the air with elegant grace.
You are long and sinuous with an easy access to magic that you find far more suitable than brute force. You left Mizuchi with an expedition of scholars hoping to find long lost secrets.
Gain Magic: Tier 1
[ ] You soar on feathered wings.
Covering in brilliant plumage you rule the sky like your ancestors before you. There was no room for you to establish your own court in Ixtacotak. But this new land is open and fertile enough for a dozen dragondoms.
Gain Agility: Tier 1
Approaching the running villagers you see that they are being chased by a horde of undead. For a very generous interpretation of horde. There can't be more than a dozen zombies in the group with a few skeleton archers clattering after them.
A good militia would be able to see them off easily enough, but you suppose you have been putting that off. It didn't seem like there was anything dangerous in the area after all. Well you can instruct the mortals later. After you deal with these undead.
Land between the villagers and the undead you take a good look at your mortals. They're a scraggly bunch. Mostly humans and orcs with a few other races thrown in. You didn't have many options when you were recruiting so you just took whoever showed up in port when you were putting the expedition together. This group was gathering lumber from the forest and despite their axes you can see that quite a few are injured.
Really, you have to do everything yourself. Turning you flare your wings to get the undead's attention and prepare yourself. Small horde or not you'd prefer not to get your claws dirty with undead so you channel your magic through your throat glands. Time to show these zombies what separates a dragon from a lizard.
Taking a deep breath
[ ] You engulf them with fire.
[ ] You melt them with acid.
[ ] You wash them away with water.
[ ] You freeze them with ice.
[ ] You electrocute them with lightning.
The fury of your breath deals with the zombies and a quick lash of your tail shatters the skeletons before they can fire any pesky arrows. You are just turning to survey your mortals and chastise them for their cowardice when a deafening roar rings out from the forest. The trees shake and tumble as they are pushed out of the way by a towering figure.
It's a plague ogre. An enormous undead creature easily twice your size. It's deathly pale skin is covered in revolting cysts and its breath is so foul that you can see a miasma spreading out behind it. The nearest vegetation is already wilting.
It absolutely can't be allowed to enter the village. Everything you worked for will be destroyed. It will leave the ground corrupted beyond repair. And your mortals will be killed! Not that you care about them that much, but replacements will be hard to come by.
If you were the average dragon you would need to flee right now, mortals or no. But your heritage is greater than that. You have the blood of the Ur Dragon running in your veins and while it is heavily diluted by the intervening generations you do have one last resort for the most desperate times.
Your trump card is
[ ] A Photophore Fin
By flaring the fin you emit a radiant light that can blind and disorient opponents.
[ ] An extra Elemental Gland
-[ ] Pick a second breath
It tires you out, but you can unleash an entire second breath attack.
[ ] Scale Armor
Your scales retain all their potency even after you shed them. It may seem redundant to most dragons, but you have learned to work them into armor and weapons that give an edge.
[ ] a Vapor Sac
You can release a thick mist from your body that make your form hard to discern and causes opponents to miss you more often than not.
[ ] Chamelic Skin
The next best thing to invisibility. You can blend into your surroundings with ease. Though you can't move too fast while doing so.
[ ] Spike Projectiles
Most dragon horns are meant for defense, but you can shoot yours like a mortal javelin. Only far more devastating.
[ ] a Shell
Not very glamorous, but your shell is as hard as rock. Very few things can actually hurt you.
[ ] Adrenal Glands
In desperate situations you can excrete a chemical that floods your system with potent stimulants. For just a few moments your strength and speed soar to extreme heights.
Quest Announcement: This quest is about reclaiming a ruined continent from the undead. It will be mostly focused on our prodragonist here with a side of civ management. Expect it to be hard. Bad things will happen. You will lose. You will die. But there will always be a way to continue. I didn't put roguelite in the quest title for nothing.
Some of you may notice a few familiar names. The setting is based on the Dragonfall CYOA, which I will not link because it is a tad NSFW. Don't expect too much to be the same as that however.
Also SectionXIII is my cowriter and the instigator for this quest.
Please make a plan vote, and one last choice.
What is your Name young Prodragonist?
[ ] Write
