Theta Campaign - Return of the Dragon Queen – Session 38 Pt. 2

Written by: Flamereptile

Written: 08/17/2026

Theta Campaign - Return of the Dragon Queen – Session 38 Pt. 2

This part of this week’s tale begins as our intrepid adventurers finish off the last of Sandria Mortessa’s brood and face down the monster conjured by the enraged vampire.

Allistair peaked around the wall of stone that separated the boiling blood pit from the dining hall where he stood. Unable, and unwilling, to get within melee range of the vampiress, Allistair conjured three bolts of energy, throwing them around the stone at her.

Sandria smirked at the incoming bolts, throwing her hand up at the last second and forcing a rush of blood from the pool to harden between them and her. Two of the bolts smashed against the blood barrier, but one curved at the last second around it, striking her in the shoulder. It was no matter to her, however.

Sandria then raised her hands, pulling in blood from the pool into her wounds, sealing them in an instant.

Dolgrak began to shudder at the sight of this monster within her natural element. He considered his next actions carefully, deciding that it would be best if he just let the others take care of her. He turned and began to walk towards another tunnel that branched from the dining hall, then broke out into a sprint until the vampiress was no longer in his line of sight. He stood there for a moment, breathing hard, wondering what he had gotten himself into with these people.

Sandria continued to draw in blood, sealing more of her wounds and coating herself in an armor of hardened blood as Beezul loaded his Bee-Bee Gun with another lightning bee. The two locked eyes for a single moment as Beezul released the bee from his pipe.

The little bee, imbued with lightning, streaked through the air at Sandria, and she conjured another hardened plate of blood to protect her. The bee, moving at lightning speeds, impacted the hardened plates, shattering them into fragments and dust, but Sandria was unaffected until a second bee streaked through the air and impacted her chest.

Reeling back, she drew in another stream of blood to seal her new wounds, but she failed to notice as Prinze appeared at the edge of the pool and released a stream of freezing breath over her. The top of the pool froze solid for a moment before the boiling blood beneath burst out.

Interrupted in her efforts to heal, Prinze unfurled his wraps and whipped them out at her, leaving large slashes in her flesh.

The cavern went silent for a moment as Sandria fell still, then fell backwards into the boiling pool.

“Did we kill her?” asked Beezul.

“I wouldn’t count on it.” Said Prinze. “Get ready for whatever she’s going to do next.”

A large bubble appeared in the pool, then popped, leaving behind a loud cackle. The bubbling ceased and the pool began to roil as a hulking figure of flesh and blood rose from the depths.

The colossal form of a blue dragon emerged from the pool, dripping hot, viscous blood back into the depths beneath it. The creature, the skeleton of a dragon our intrepid adventurers had encountered long ago when they had first come into possession of Sky’s Reach, was now clad in bright red flesh, stretched over with torn, pale skin. Two beady eyes looked down at them, the same eyes that had stared mindlessly into the pool moments before.

Twisted bones and tusks jutted out from the flesh as painful spurs that tortured the creature as it rose from the pool. Each movement it made, each simulated breath, tore its skin and rent its own muscles.

The creature opened its mouth, and from inside bellowed the voice of Sandria Mortessa.

“Flee you foul creature! Flee before my might!” she shouted.

As her voice cut off, the creature itself released a vile, guttural roar that echoed across the halls of Mortessa’s lair.

“Shit.” Said Prinze.

“Oh fuck!” shouted Dolgrak.

“Oh my gods! It’s going to fucking eat us!” panicked Beezul.

The creature’s roar continued, only increasing in girth until it reached a bone chilling, ear shattering volume.

Allistair, Dolgrak, and Prinze immediately began to shiver and shudder in uncontrollable fear at the sight of this horrific monstrosity. A chill moved its way up Alonzo and Beezul’s spines, unsettling them to the core.

The creature's roar grew guttural as it raised its head and blood began to leak out. It closed its mouth suddenly and its throat began to swell. Arcs of electricity tore across its skin, causing it to boil and slough off.

The creature threw its head down, bellowing out a beam of lightning towards our adventurers, followed by a gush of boiling hot blood.

The beam was directed at Prinze, aimed with the fury of Sandria, but Prinze was too swift in his heightened state of fear. He threw himself to the side, just in time to avoid the beam as it streaked past him into the stone that separated this space from the dining hall. In an instant, the stone was vaporized.

Following the beam of lightning, a wave of boiling blood washed over the adventurers. Prinze and Dolgrak, both already taking cover behind rocky walls, were spared the horror of the creature’s blood, but the others were not.

Allistair, Alonzo, and Beezul were covered in boiling, sticky blood that melted patches of their skin, leaving behind angry blisters.

Silently, the newly born blisters began to chatter, plotting their escapes from the bodies they were spawned from. Each was filled with the malice of the countless servants of Sandria Mortessa, and each was prepared to pop in a painful burst of pus and blood. Each was ready to unleash misery upon this world in a torrent of…

Each of the newly formed blisters across their skin suddenly disappeared as a white light emanated over Alonzo and covered his party. The light was warm and comforting, healing their cuts, bruises, bites, and blisters.

This comfort and joy was short lived for Prinze, however, as the creature lunged forwards, grabbing him and digging its claws into him. He screamed in agony as it raised him to its mouth and bit down upon him.

Teeth as long and sharp as swords pierced through Prinze’s body, but he was not afraid. This was his natural element. He had the creature right where he wanted it. He was used to fighting dragons from within their own mouths.

The creature began to pull itself free of the pool of blood, wrenching its spine from its depths. This was the first our adventurers, other than Prinze, had been able to fully see what they were against as it dragged itself free of its bloody birthing pool. It looked like the body of a dragon, clad in flesh and loose skin, but its hind legs were missing, and its tail was shortened considerably.

The creature extended its great wings, stretching them and tearing its own skin and muscles in the process. Back and forth it beat its wings, creating a heavy gust within the tunnels of Sandria’s lair between its bloody membranes. Allistair, Alonzo, and Dolgrak were sent flying back to the far wall of Sandria’s dining hall, coming to a sudden halt upon its walls. Each let out a gasp of pain as they impacted bare stone and fell prone.

Beezul, however, had been flying when the gust was kicked up. Instinctively, he turned to face the gust, diving into it and beating his wings fiercely. Once it had subsided, he remained aloft.

Allistair righted himself, brushing the dust from his clothes, and opened his eyes. The horror that had brought back a flood of memories crawled towards him with its fleshy arms.

When Allistair was a wee lad, his parents had taken him into Yalth with them during one of their annual summons by the Council of Yalth. He remembered they were instructed to bring a hundred servants with them, amongst which was Ora.

Although Ora, and her parents were servants, Allistair was quite fond of the little orcish girl. She was pure, innocent, and sweet in a country that prized itself for its cruelty. During the trek from his parent’s estate to the Capitol of Yalth, Allistair even stole away to ride with Ora.

He remembered the games they would play with cards and dice and little wooden chips. But the innocence of Ora would be short lived.

The night of their arrival, Allistair’s family was called to a dinner and a demonstration with the powers of Yalth. Powerful necromancers, vampires, demons, all normal company for the nobility of Yalth. They dined on rich blood and tender meats, but when the feast had settled, a curtain was pulled away from the stage set before them.

Upon the stage stood Yalth’s most renowned stitchers, practicing necromancers that would pride themselves on their abilities to sew together amalgams from slain creatures and imbue them with a vile facsimile of life.

Behind the stitchers laid a corpse. Allistair had observed countless stitcher duels in his time, even as a child, but he had never beheld a corpse of this scale. It was massive, and it writhed. He thought to himself how unusual that was before noticing that the flesh used to make this amalgam was still alive.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! Children of all ages! Behold your entertainment for the evening! We present to you no typical stitcher duel on this night. NO! But a demonstration of the stitching power of Yalth itself! Thanks to your generous donations, we have been able to complete our grandest amalgam in record time! We present to you!” The flesh golem announcer paused for dramatic effect, “The Flesh Dragon!”

The six stitchers upon the stage all turned to face the amalgam, raised their hands, and began chanting. Yellow and green magics swirled between them, and the eyes of all of the stitched servants began to glow blue. They wailed as energies were pulled from them into the stitchers, and then, once they had all fallen limp, it was returned as pale greens and yellows.

The stitchers turned once more to face the crowd, then bowed as the limbs of the servants began to twitch, then wail. Suddenly, the whole building began to shift as the amalgam stood.

Towering over the Council of Yalth, and its invited guests, stood a dragon made from the flesh of hundreds of servants.

Allistair shuddered at the memory, then conjured forth his memories into magical lances above himself. Remembering the name of this dragon’s corpse, from his last encounter with Sandria Mortessa, Allistair whispered, “Lathanon.” Then released the lances.

They streaked through the air at the amalgam, impacting across its chest and shoulders. The creature reeled back and roared in pain as holes were torn into it. As it opened its mouth, Prinze began to wriggle free from his impalement by its fangs, but it crunched down on him once more. Blood streamed from his body and trickled down the amalgam’s throat.

Dolgrak, thoroughly shaken at the sight of the amalgam, felt his britches become warm and damp.

“I’m just going to hide… I mean, get a better position for shooting it over here.” He said as he ducked behind a table that had been overturned by the gust conjured by the creature's wings.

Beezul rolled his eyes at Dolgrak, then peered back at the creature before him. His eyes then rolled a second time, not in disappointment, but in fury. As anger swelled within Beezul at the sight of the impaled Prinze, he grew in size. When he had finished growing, Beezul was large enough to wrestle with a fully grown ox.

With a raging battle cry, Beezul charged the creature, closing the distance.

At the sound of the cry, the creature began to violently shake Prinze within its mouth. But Prinze was in his happy place. Prinze knew how to fight dragons from within.

He closed his eyes and centered himself, shoving away the fear and the pain. Everything but focus was removed from his mind, that and the cheering from the giant lord Jotunn from inside his mind.

His eyes opened in a flash and he whipped out his wraps. With practiced skill, they curved around the contours of the fleshy creature’s face, embedding its ends into the creature’s eyes. With new purchase gained, Prinze pulled himself up from his impalement, blood leaking from his wounds, and righted himself.

The creature gnashed back down at Prinze, but before it could lock him between its fangs once more, he had disappeared in a poof of mist. While Prinze was in his element while within the mouth of a dragon, or creature that looked like a dragon, he was happiest next to its eye, which is exactly where he reappeared. 

He stared deeply into the beady little eye for a moment, holding himself aloft upon the creature’s fleshy face, then reeled his hand back to gouge it out.

A moment before Prinze’s fist could make contact with the creature’s eye, however, the voice of Sandria Mortessa called out, “I think not my love!” as a clawed hand reached up, caught him, and peeled him from the creature’s face.

The next thing Prinze knew was how pleasant it was to fly through the air of the vampiress’ lair. It was at least more pleasant than being in the stinking maw of that wannabe dragon, he thought as he smoothly landed next to the rest of his party.

Prinze looked back up at the creature across the rocky lair as its throat began to bulge once more. Allistiar, Alonzo, Beezul, Dolgrak, and Prinze all dove for cover as its head reared back and was thrown forwards once more.

A wave of blood washed across the surface of the lair, coating everything in hot, thick blood. Angry boils welled up across the skin of Allistair, Alonzo, and Beezul, though Beezul fared far better than the other two. Prinze had managed to just duck behind a rocky outcropping as the wave passed over him, and the table that Dolgrak hid behind protected him from the danger.

A moment later, as the flow of blood siphoned off, a bolt of lightning streaked from the creature's maw, catching Allistair, Alonzo, and Beezul as they reeled from their afflictions. All three dropped to the ground as the electricity arced through them, and the ward from death that Alonzo had cast over himself shattered like a sheet of glowing glass.

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