Theta Campaign - Return of the Dragon Queen – Session 41 Pt. 1

Written by: Flamereptile

Written: 08/26/2026

Theta Campaign - Return of the Dragon Queen – Session 41 Pt. 1

This week’s tale begins as our intrepid adventurers delve into the depths of a cult stronghold after enacting a wholesale massacre on their lower ranking members. As they descended the steps of the temple, deeper into its depths, Alonzo, the party’s healer, was snatched from the ground by a dragon clinging from the ceiling.

Alonzo shouted as the dragon’s jaws clamped down around him at the waist and he felt his feet leave the ground.

The maw of the great green dragon wound back up into the darkness above the stairwell, revealing a massive body shifting in the shadows.

Prinze called out, “Shit, I mean, Hey! That’s where I like to fight from.” He trailed off, “That could have been me…”

Feeling left out from executing his life’s purpose, slaying all dragons upon the plane that is, Prinze conjured forth his own draconic wings. Sprouting from his back, an ethereal pair of leathery wings stretched out and beat against the stale air. In a moment, Prinze lifted off of the ground and flew towards the dragon hanging above.

As Prinze approached the dragon, he lashed out his leather wrist wraps, managing to grapple one of the many spines set upon the dragon’s head. As he whipped out the other wrap, however, the dragon twisted its head around, releasing Alonzo, and snapping at Prinze in turn. Alonzo plummeted to the floor, landing in a heap with a heavy thud and a groan and the fangs of the dragon sunk deep into Prinze’s body.

Each of the dragon’s fangs were as long as a short sword, and each was capable of delivering a large dose of potent venom to the dragon’s targets. Prinze, however, was not phased by the introduction of toxins into his system.

The magical feast that Alonzo had prepared only hours before fortified those who ate it against the effects of toxins, disease, and even the paralyzing effects of fear.

Smug, in the sense that Alonzo’s feast had prepared him for the dragon's most dangerous weapons, Prinze smirked at the dragon as the toxins began to leak ineffectively from his own pores.

The dragon, however, did not take kindly to Prinze’s act of defiance, pausing for but a moment to assess the situation before beginning to shake its head violently, chomping down harder upon Prinze with each shake.

While the magical feast he had eaten had fortified his mind from the effects of fright, fear began to creep across Prinze’s mind as the dragon carried him out of the hall, crawling across the ceiling into the next chamber.

“Prinze!” shouted Alonzo as he stood, “Do you need any help?”

“No!” replied Prinze, “I’ve. Got. Him. Right. Where. I. Want him!” he shouted as the dragon shook him back and forth, not unlike a hound that had just caught a rabbit while patrolling its yard.

As the tail of the dragon pulled out of the vestibule, it halted, stretched its neck around, and hissed, deploying its hood. To Alonzo and Beezul it appeared as if the dragon had tripled in size. The bright coloration and serrated patterns of its hood would have been more than enough to frighten any normal creature, let alone the two of them, however, the magics of their feast once again proved to be an immense asset, allowing them to shake off the worst of their fear.

 After deploying its hood, the dragon withdrew its neck and continued crawling across the ceiling to the other side of the next cavernous room.

Stunned by the dragon’s sudden display of aggression and savagery, Alonzo and Beezul stared at each other for a moment, as if to ponder if this exchange had just happened before them. It became apparent to both, due to the shouting of Prinze, and the leaking wounds left behind by the dragon in Alonzo’s torso, that it was in fact happening.

Both would quickly charge out of the vestibule and into the large chamber beyond in pursuit of the dragon and Prinze.

Alonzo and Beezul passed through the pair of massive stone doors into an even larger throne room. The dragon clung to the ceiling, chewing upon Prinze at the far end of this chamber. Below it rested the skeleton of an even larger dragon, long dried and desiccated, and filled to the brim with gold and treasures. Sitting upon a raised platform, at the far end of the chamber, was a green throne that glistened in the torchlight as if made of gemstones.

Sixteen stone columns, eight on either side of the chamber, extended from the walls of the vestibule to the far wall of the chamber. Three of the columns lay beneath the draconic skeleton, and between them waited two of the cult’s Broodguard and a dozen Adepts. Drawing their daggers and swords, the cultists began to charge across the room towards Alonzo and Beezul.

Beezul ignored the charging cultists, drawing his Bee-Bee Gun and loading it with an electrified bee. While Beezul was focused on lining up a shot on the dragon, Alonzo noticed that each of the Adepts appeared to be wearing a green cloth over their eyes, hindering their vision. As the Adepts stumbled forwards, the two Broodguard called out commands to correct their courses.

Alonzo’s ponderance, however, was interrupted by the pained screams of Prinze as the dragon continued to shake him violently, gnashing down with every shake. While blood showered the floor beneath them, flames engulfed Prinze, originating from an enchanted necklace that he had worn, burning the inside of the dragon’s mouth with each chomp.

Beezul, finally getting a bead on the dragon, drew forth a deep breath and fired his bee from the Bee-Bee Gun. The bee whirred through the air, crackling with electricity, and striking the dragon in the shoulder. It let out a pained roar before chomping back down on Prinze.

At the satisfying sounds of its pain, Beezul reloaded and fired again. The second bee he fired missed, however, whizzing only inches from Prinze’s head and missing the dragon entirely. Disappointed at his miss, Beezul stowed the Bee-Bee Gun, drew his Bee Drills, and deployed his insectile wings, preparing to engage the dragon in direct combat. Before Beezul could take off, however, a chill shot through his body, stopping him in his steps.

A familiar voice whispered to Beezul as an ethereal form appeared from the floor before him. It passed through his chest and out of his back, saying, “It is time your treachery is rewarded in kind.”

The Wish Dragon, Sylverfang, left behind a cold chill as she passed through Beezul and into the beehive on his back, cackling maniacally as she disappeared. Beezul froze as panic overcame him.

Atop the skyland, Sky’s Reach, Allistair withdrew his hand from the shoulder of Dolgrak. A few minutes ago he was prepared to leap from the edges of the skyland with Alonzo, Beezul, and Prinze into the cult stronghold below to deliver his wrath alongside his companions. But before he leapt, Allistair noticed Dolgrak wavering in his commitment to bringing about an end to the cult.

Figuring the other three could take care of things by themselves, at least for a few minutes, he stepped back and asked, “Dolgrak? Are you doing okay?”

Dolgrak stammered, “I just, well, you see… I don’t know if I have it in me.”

“What do you mean?” said Allistair, “I’ve seen you leap onto a sailing skyship and take over the helm like it was second nature. You’ve fought dragons and giants, and slain members of a cult many times. What about this do you not have in you?”

“This is just too much.” Said Dolgrak, “Following a crazed draconian into a cult stronghold. Fighting against dragons at every opportunity. Dragons! Not just any monster, but the most dangerous monsters there are. I’m not prepared for this! I’m not even useful in fighting them!” said Dolgrak.

“No.” replied Allistair coarsely, “You really aren’t.”

“See, you agree! It would just be better if I stayed up here and…”

“No.” replied Allistair again. “You can have your little meltdown some other time. One that we aren’t currently laying siege to a cult stronghold. You can’t just throw a fit and wimp out when others are counting on you to at least be there. We’re fighting dragons and a cult, we can’t afford to split the party and risk failure because you’re having second thoughts.”

Listening in to their conversation, the stone giant Wiglof asked his wife Hulda, “Wife, they’re still here. Should we get rid of them?”

“I don’t know, husband. It seems the resolve of the tiny one is faltering due to recent unaddressed personal conflicts.” She replied.

“That sounds selfish, wife. Do you think that our lord is in danger because of his failure to participate?” asked Wiglof.

“I doubt it, husband. Our lord is a mighty warrior, and the tiny one is an ineffective combatant.” Said Hulda.

Allistair and Dolgrak stopped and stared at the two as they talked.

“You know, perhaps I should check in on them.” Said Allistair.

His eyes rolled back in his head as he cast a spell of scrying. His consciousness separated from his body for a few moments, slithering down into the temple below and looking upon the chamber where the battle was happening.

Allistair watched as Alonzo stretched out his cloak, taking flight over a band of charging cultists and up towards a green dragon. He saw Prinze in the dragon’s maw, streams of blood leaking from his wounds as magical flames shot forth from him and burned the dragon’s mouth. Alonzo’s hand glowed as he flew closer, healing many of Prinze’s wounds, ultimately prolonging his suffering.

His consciousness then turned to see Beezul as the band of cultists stopped and watched Alonzo fly over. One moment Beezul stood frozen in panic, the next he stowed his Bee-Bee Gun, peeled the beehive from his back, and crawled inside.

Allistair’s consciousness returned to his body and he described what he saw to the giants and Dolgrak.

“It does not sound like my lord is faring well.” Said Wiglof

“They’re doing fine.” lied Allistair. “Prinze is in his element.”

“I do not believe him, wife.” Replied Wiglof, turning to look at Hulda.

“Neither do I, husband.” Hulda replied, returning his gaze.

Both began to stretch and crack their stiff bones in preparation for joining the fray, but pride came over Allistair.
“There’s no need to worry. Like I said, Prinze has them exactly where he wants them.” Allistair lied again as he began to whistle casually, drawing a short sword and conjuring his shadow blade. “I’m going to go give them a little hand though.”

Prinze shouted through his pained cries, “If. He. Keeps. Ow, shit! Chewing on me… Arg! He’ll die of burns. Ah! Eventually!”

Still clinging to the ceiling with Prinze in its mouth, the dragon extended its wings and began to beat them violently towards Alonzo. The gust of wind created from the dragon’s wings threw Alonzo from the air and onto the ground in a heap at the feet of the cultists below. When he landed, Alonzo let out a pained grunt as the air was forced from his lungs.

The cultists, none of which were in possession of weapons that could fire projectiles, had been waiting patiently for one of the Slayer’s brood to descend within their reach. Now, with the gasping Alonzo laying upon the floor before them, their chance had come. Their chance would be cut short, however, as the Slayer would soon bring about their downfall.

Still screaming, with the sword-like teeth of the dragon stabbing through him, Prinze disappeared from the dragon’s mouth in a puff of mist. He appeared a few feet away on the dragon’s eyelid. Grabbing a hold of the scaly outcropping that was its ocular crest with his left hand, he plunged his right fist into the soft center of the dragon’s eye. 

He struck it once, forcing a reactionary blink, then, once it had reopened its eye he struck again, planting his fist firmly within its gelatinous center. Prinze extended the magical wraps from his wrist around the damaged eye. They twisted within its socket, firmly grasping the now damaged eyeball.

Using the wraps as a pivot, Prinze released the dragon’s scaly crest and kicked off from its lower eyelid. Once a few feet away from the eye, he jerked himself back, stomping both of his feet firmly into the closed eye. 

Blood squirted out of the ruined eye, coating Prinze and intermingling with his own. The dragon let out a roar of pain as its eye was all but destroyed.

Reflexively, the dragon reached up and clawed at Prinze, driving its talons into his sides. It tore him away from its bleeding face. The dragon held Prinze before its remaining eye, contemplating what to do. Grasping the ceiling with its hind legs and the thumb claws from both of its wings, the dragon released the rocky ceiling with its other hand and pointed one of its claws towards Prinze.

“This is your end, little slayer.” It croaked out as it slowly stabbed its foreclaw into Prinze’s chest.

Prinze called out in pain then blood gurgled out from his mouth. Gasping, he grasped his hands around the dragon’s foreclaw and pushed, trying to free himself. The claw, however, was not moved by the draconian, rather, it was withdrawn by the dragon itself.

Prinze coughed up another gout of blood, then looked up at the dragon a moment before its head lunged forwards for a series of bites. Each of the three strikes tore chunks of flesh from Prinze’s body, and delivered a new dose of venom that would subsequently leak from his pores.

Satisfied with his torment, the dragon let out a growling laugh, reared its head back, then thrust it forward, releasing a noxious torrent of poison over Prinze.

The cloud washed over Prinze like a jet stream, blowing back his head and his body with toxins. The cloud rushed past Prinze engulfing Alonzo and the cultists that surrounded him as well. As Prinze lay there, dying in the dragon’s claws, he heard the pained gasps and cries of countless others as they choked on the poisonous cloud and died.

Alonzo, more concerned with the wellbeing of Prinze than his own, stood, righting himself from his recent fall and cracked his neck. He reached his hand up towards Prinze, channeling divine magics through it, and again Prinze’s wounds began to seal up.

“I didn’t hear no bell.” Cried out Prinze.

Conveniently, as the green cloud of toxic gas cleared from around him, Alonzo noticed that the issue of the cultists that had been bearing down upon him seemed to have resolved itself. Over a dozen bodies lay strewn around him in a crowd, purple and blue from swelling and suffocation, and streaked with the red of blood that had leaked from their orifices.

As its remaining eye could find focus, the dragon was overcome with a sense of embarrassment, noticing it had slain most of its remaining allies in its poisonous breath. Its embarrassment, however, was short lived as it peered behind the two adventurers that had been giving it so much trouble.

Beezul crawled through the entrance to Vespa’s Hive, panicked at the terror that Sylverfang might be wreaking over his goddess. As he passed through the magical vestibule, Beezul was reminded of the wishes he had made long ago, those that would elevate a simple queen bee to that of the goddess she now was. He was hopeful that she could hold her own until he came to her rescue.

His hopes were darkened as he entered into the vestibule chamber of the hive, however, as he beheld the sight hundreds of drones ripped to shreds. There were three paths that split within the vestibule, but Beezul knew the hive well. His eyes, which were normally bulbous and pointed in completely different directions, focused in on the center path, towards the Throne Room.

Beezul rushed down the hall, following the trail of discarded corpses until he came upon an unusual sight. Three drones stood atop a pile of their sisters. When Beezul approached, the massive bees sensed him and turned. Their normally black eyes were silver and misty, no doubt the influence of Sylverfang.

Their mandibles, normally small and versatile, were engorged and sharpened by chitinous protrusions that appear to have rapidly grown from them. They hissed, a trait not native to even bees of this size, then charged Beezul.

Unwilling to fight his own hive alone, Beezul waved his hands, mimicking the bee’s natural dance, and cast a spell. Normally when Beezul had cast this spell, several giant bees from the hive on his back would appear and come to his aid. Four bees did in fact appear from within the tunnels of the hive. These bees, however, also possessed eyes silver with mist and engorged mandibles.

“Well fuck.” Said Beezul.

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