Theta Campaign - Return of the Dragon Queen – Session 38 Pt. 1

Written by: Flamereptile

Written: 08/17/2026

Theta Campaign - Return of the Dragon Queen – Session 38 Pt. 1

This week’s tale begins as our intrepid adventurers catch their breaths and continue deeper into the vampiress’, lair.

Exiting the common room entrance to the vampiress’ lair, Allistair, Alonzo, Beezul, and Dolgrak dash down a curved hall, carved into the stony interior of Sky’s Reach. Following the sounds of chattering children, the four glance down, but ultimately avoid, three branching corridors, one to the right and two to the left.

At the end of the tunnel, the four emerged into a large dining hall occupied by three long, wooden tables. Atop each table sat two large, stone cauldrons. Five vampire children sat and chattered at the table closest to the corridor, while another four sat at the table in the center.

Sitting atop the table farthest from the corridor’s entrance was Sandria Mortessa, and sitting upon the bench between her legs was Prinze.

The eyes of Allistair, Alonzo, Beezul, and Dolgrak grew wide as they saw Prinze seated before Sandria, suckling upon a single exposed breast.

“So nice of you to join us.” Said Sandria, “Once our prince has finished feeding, we shall consummate our marriage and he will become one of us. Oh… you have brought us a gift, haven’t you?”

Taken aback, none replied but Alonzo, who retorted, “Yeah, your dead kids.”

Simultaneously, Sandria and her nine remaining children hissed.

Dolgrak was the first to move, dashing forwards a few feet before discharging his crossbow at one of the vampire children. Jory, a little brown-haired boy, reached his hand up to catch the bolt before it could strike his forehead. With a smirk, he snapped the bolt in his little hand and began to crouch in preparation for a pounce on the little Dolgrak.

Disgruntled, Dolgrak began to reload his crossbow, hoping to loose another volley before the little vampires could reach him.

Beezul drew up the courage to charge head first into the crowd, planning on releasing a torrent of stinging bees from the hive on his back, but stopped before he did, considering the ineffectiveness of their weapons against the vampires thus far. A moment’s contemplation led him to instead draw his Bee-Bee Gun, leveling it at, what appeared to have once been, a gnomish child.

A moment later, two bees punched sizable holes through the little vampire, knocking him back off of the table where he sat. Beezul, not wanting to be in arm’s reach when the child had recovered, extended his insectile wings, and took flight, sealing a few of his smaller wounds with a spell as he approached the ceiling.

Prinze sat and suckled for a few more moments, remembering how pleasant the last several minutes had been. He thought about how stressful it had been these last few months, wrestling with the will of an elder giant, managing a whole skyland and its people, and even watching the progression of his own bloodlust against dragonkind. It was thirsty work managing a bloodlust that large.

It had been a busy few minutes for sure, but pleasant nonetheless. One moment he was preparing to run and jump off of Sky’s Reach into a cult stronghold, and the next, his mind was calm and quiet, seduced by Sandria Mortessa.

With his monastic training it would have required little effort for him to calm his own mind and shirk off the effects of the vampiress’ charms, but Prinze was willing to go along with her for a time, just to give himself a little break.

She swept him off of his feet, like a damsel in distress, stole him away into her lair, and introduced him to her children. He didn’t remember any of their names, he was just along for the ride while it lasted. He thought about how nice it was, for a time, just going on autopilot.

After introducing him to her kids, she pronounced them husband and wife, and promised to consummate their marriage after he had been turned. It was a short wedding, he thought, lasting only a minute or so, with her own children as their witnesses. Of course, in his charmed state of mind Prinze obliged.

After the “ceremony”, her children went about chattering and slurping away at their cups of blood in celebration of their soon to be new father, but what came next was Prinze’s favorite part. 

It had been some time, a few stressful weeks, since Prinze had last seen any action, aside from wholesale murder of dragons and cultists that is. When Sandria sat down atop a table, and sat him before her, producing a single breast for him to suckle like a new piglet, he had postponed his plans to break this charm and slaughter the masses, or die trying.

He was looking forward to a little non-violent action, and considered that becoming a vampire might actually aid his quest to eliminate the world of dragonkind. Vampires were powerful, they could regenerate, and were immune to all sorts of damage. A vampire Prinze could be the unstoppable force that this plane needed to defeat the dragon menace.

It was nice while it lasted.

The next thing Prinze knew, his peace was over. His lawyer was here to kill his own kin. The mobster was here to free him. The useless little gnome was here to… do whatever it is he does. Shoot things and complain about being left behind? But worst of all, Beezul was here. Here to make everything sticky. Here to taint this place with his draconic stench. Here to tear him away from his future as a vampiric dragon slaying machine.

“Well, this was fun.” Said Prinze as he stood, “But it was never going to work out between you and me.”

He stood, wiped the bloody milk from his chin, and pulled out his Adamantine Folding Chair. With a wide swing, Sandria Mortessa’s head whipped back. As she recoiled, Prinze cocked the chair, and as her head whipped forwards he smashed it into her once more, this time with a thunderous crack that echoed throughout the lair.

Once more her head whipped back and forward, and once more Prinze smashed the chair into her face. Blood and teeth flew in all directions as the vampire children gasped in horror. Sandria’s head came to a mangled halt for a moment and she attempted to hiss and claw at Prinze, but he was too fast.

Prinze stowed his chair, and in one swift movement, grabbed Sandria by the back of the head and slammed it into the table beneath her. Her head still in his hand, he ran the length of the table, dragging her across it and into the various pieces of silvered cutlery adorning its surface.

Sandria twisted around in Prinze’s hand and attempted to bite his hand, but missed, snapping her mangled teeth against the air as Prinze released her. She stood, cracked her neck, and her face rearranged itself.

Hissing, Sandria clawed then snapped at Prinze, missing both strikes as he backed away. Stumbling forward, she tried once more, missing both again in her disoriented state. It was hard work regenerating on an empty stomach.

In the same instant, Alonzo called out, “Steve. Sic ‘em.” As the hulking mass of radiant energy charged forwards at the same little vampire Dolgrak had missed.

Six strikes with its glowing mace later and the vampire child laid mangled across the floor, but not vanquished. A moment later, Steve disappeared, and Alonzo, cloaked in a flurry of little celestials all wielding clubs and daggers made of light, walked forwards to the first table where the little vampires leapt from.

The spiritual guardians that he had conjured swarmed the little vampires, clubbing and slashing at them, leaving behind glowing wounds they could not heal from.

Reeling from the sudden assault on their celebratory feast, and shocking betrayal by their soon to be father, the little vampires began to swat away the attacking spiritual guardians and jump into action.

Nella, a soft featured little girl, lunged at Alonzo, slashing and gnashing at him, but each of her strikes fell just short of him, as if he wasn’t in the same place as he appeared.

Garrick, a little half-orc boy, Sylvi, a little fey girl, and Ash, a little fiendish boy, all burst into shadows, appearing beyond the flurry of spirits and surrounding Dolgrak. Dolgrak gulped and braced for the coming onslaught.

He was surprised, however, at the most pitiful display of untrained, inept attacks that he had ever seen. It was as if these three children, and it must have been these three specifically because the previous little vampires had ripped and torn at his party, had never hunted for their own blood before.

The three slashed and bit at Dolgrak a total of six times, with only the final finally finding purchase upon him. Having easily dodged the five previous strikes, Dolgrak rolled his eyes and lulled into a sense of safety before the fangs of Sylvi implanted themselves into his arm, and she drew out a deep gulp of his blood.

Emboldened by their brethren, Thorn, a little elven boy, Brunna, a little dwarven girl, Jory, Lysa, a little half-elven girl, and Corni, a little gnomish boy, rose from their table within the swarm of spirits and beset upon Alonzo.

Jory, who had been severely damaged by the attacks of Steve, had just reached Alonzo and slashed out at him as one of the little spirits shanked him from behind, causing him to burst into ashes and bones. The dreams of an aspiring knight, and chosen executioner, were dashed in an instant.

Jory’s siblings, however, were undeterred. Thorn was the first to strike. Seeing the attempts made by Nella moments before, he overreached from where he thought Alonzo might have been, finding purchase a few inches farther. The first slash instantly broke the illusion produced by Alonzo’s cloak as Thorn’s claws dug into his side.

Now grappling the man that stood before him, Thorn sunk his teeth into him, drawing in a deep gulp of blood. He tried to plunge his second hand into Alonzo’s other side, but missed, being engrossed in his new meal, then took in another gulp.

The others followed suit. Brunna leapt upon Alonzo’s back, sinking both of her hands into his shoulders and biting his neck twice. Lysa took his flank, leaving a gouge in his right thigh then reaching down to bite into the back of his calf. Corni aided his siblings, latching on to Alonzo’s left side with his claws and fangs, and taking a second bite a moment later.

As the blood began to drain from Alonzo his will wavered and his skin began to turn pale.

In the hands of her betrothed, Sandria Mortessa burst into shadows and disappeared, leaving behind countless silvered knives and forks to drop to the floor.

Seeing him in trouble, Allistair drew his shadow blade and charged towards the overwhelmed Alonzo. As fast as a steely wind, Allistair’s blade flashed forwards and struck at all five children, managing to only miss the little Sylvi.

While Ash, Brunna, and Garrick were severely injured, the three remained alive, or rather as alive as the undead could be, after Allistair’s strikes. Thorn was not so lucky, however. As Allistair’s strike pierced his heart, and he smirked with his undead fortitude, one of Alonzo’s spiritual guardians flew by and clubbed him in the back of the head.

The quiet little hunter who had once respected the forests as much as his own parents burned away into ashes and bones as the radiant club caved in his skull.

A few feet away, Dolgrak pondered why he was unable to kill any of these vampires. He had never encountered creatures like this before, thus reasoned that they should just die if you harm them enough, but that seemed to not be the case. He also considered that it wouldn’t hurt if he could at least make contact with them, but thus far the only contact he had with them was when they would claw or bite at him.

He shook the thoughts away as the little fey vampire dug its fangs deeper into his arm. Drawing his rapier, he stabbed at the most injured of the brood, Garrick, missing as the little fey tore at his arm again. He was growing numb as Garrick responsively slashed out at him, narrowly missing.

High above the carnage upon the ground, Beezul charged up his Bee-Bee Gun with a lightning bee, firing it at the little vampire girl, Nella, blowing off her right arm upon impact. She turned and hissed at him, unable to recover her injuries due to Alozo’s little guardians, then Beezul fired again.

Nella remembered her life before Sandria Mortessa, working in her father’s inn, and caring for the denizens that passed by. She never refused to help anybody, which is what landed her in the family of Sandria. She had promised Nella that, with her gifts, Nella could help people like she had never imagined. It was true, Nella had never imagined that she would give her victims a final moment of tenderness before tearing their throats out with her fangs, nor had she imagined that this would be the way she would die.

Beezul giggled as the entire skull of the sadistic little vampire was spread across the floor behind her, and her body burned away into ashes. He reloaded and fired off one final hit at the little vampiress to her burning body, also relieving his new target of an arm.

“Uum, did you guys see where Shadow the… you know what? Forget it. I’ll find her.” Said Prinze as a little arm flew past him.

He then sprinted over towards the little vampiress who had just lost an arm, flipping up and stomping down upon her.

“Where are you my love?” he called out, taunting Sandria, wherever she might be. “You’re not going to leave your brood all alone to us are you?”

He kicked the little bloodsucker twice, then grabbed her other arm, twisting it off and waving it into the air. Bloodlust had overcome him once again.

Lysa twisted her head around to look at Prinze and hissed at him in pain.

Down the corridor, past the second hall that broke off from the left, Sandria Mortessa reformed from the shadows. She strode forth into a pool of blood, which took up most of the chamber, and caressed the shoulder of a troll that knelt within.

The troll had been a gift to Sandria from Allistair, weeks before, an offering of sorts to placate her, and her children, while her tower was rebuilt. The very pool of blood that the troll knelt in was its own, an endless supply at her fingertips, given freely due to the charm she had over it.

Allistair had hoped to build a working relationship with Sandria, but she knew better. She had watched the “working relationship” these adventurers had with the dragon that lived within the depths of Sky’s Reach. Sandria knew the only way to “work” with these people was to have them work for her, and the only way to get these people to work for her was to make them.

Her plan was simple. Take their leader, the dragonkin called Prince, and adopt him into her family. She knew she could turn him, she had done it dozens of times before, but the problem would be his servants. Not the giants, no, but the imbeciles that he led into his suicidal assaults against the cult.

Sandria had hoped that her children would be strong enough to be able to fight off Prinze’s servants, but was disappointed in them thus far. And Prinze himself had managed to break her charm, throwing another wrench in her plans. All she had left was Lathanon.

Sandria plunged her clawed hand into the back of the troll’s skull, grasped its brain, and clawed her own palm. Its eyes rolled back into its skull as blood began to leech out from Sandria’s hand into its body, replenished by that which she took in from the pool around her. The troll began to convulse, the pigment from its skin vanished, and a web of blue veins were revealed beneath, rushing with blood being simultaneously drawn out and replaced.

Suddenly, the troll's convulsions ceased and Sandria withdrew her hand from its skull. The bone and skin began to knit itself back together, but before it could, the troll melted into the pool of blood.

Prinze rounded the corner of the corridor to see the pool begin to boil around Sandria.

“Oh shit.” He said as she began to cackle.

Surrounded by vampire children, Alonzo disappeared in a poof of mist, reappearing thirty feet above. He dismissed his spirits, glided back down into the midst of his assailants, and called upon his guardians once more.

Countless tiny spirits rushed out from him with little radiant clubs and daggers. In an instant Ash, Corni, Garrick, Jory, and Lysa were reduced to little ash covered skeletons.

Bloody tears streaked from Sylvi’s eyes and she turned to flee, taking a single parting strike from Alonzo, tearing off her arm just below the shoulder.

***Sylvi, Wiglof, and Hulda***

It was at that moment Sylvi vowed to avenge and restore her brethren and mother. She rushed through the halls of this now forsaken lair and burst through the door into the darkness of the early morning. The sun crested the horizon, burning her skin, but she still had time to flee and find some place dark to hide until dusk.

Her arm couldn’t regrow until she was out of the sunlight, as dim as it still was, but she could still fly. Large batlike wings began to sprout from her back as she leapt into the air to fly, but she was caught by a massive hand as she took off.

“Look what I have caught, wife.” Said Wiglof.

“I see, husband.” Replied Hulda. “What do you intend to do with that?”

“Surely I can give it as a gift to my lord.” He said

“Do you really believe that our lord would… Husband? Where did it go?” asked Hulda, looking at Wiglof’s empty fingers as they pinched the air.

“Behind you, wife.” He said pointing.

In a flash of movement, Hulda whipped around and grabbed the little vampire from the shadows she had just reappeared from.

“Let us not let her do that again.” Said Hulda as she began to peel the wings from the little vampire.

Sylvi screamed out in pain as her wings were rent from her back. As they fell to the ground, they burned to ashes in the rising sunlight, and soon Sylvi followed in kind.

Wiglof and Hulda stood in the morning rays, basking in their warmth, and staring at the new pile of ashes the little vampire left behind.

“Are you going to clean that wife?” asked WIglof.

Hulda rolled her eyes.

That is where this part of this week's tale ends, and the next part will begin.