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The First Dragon Hoard

As Fritz, Jareth, Aure, Coriander, and Treesa descend from the sky in a "borrowed" skiff from Tempest's flying ship, they approach the coordinates provided by the Dragon King. The landscape below is less a majestic vista and more a desolate wasteland—think of a place where hope took a wrong turn and decided not to ask for directions.

They land near the entrance of an ancient cavern carved into the side of a jagged mountain. The mouth of the cave is adorned with faded signs that read "Keep Out" in Draconic, one of which has been defaced with what appears to be a crude drawing of a dragon with crossed eyes and its tongue sticking out.

"Classy establishment," Coriander smirks, adjusting his cloak.

"At least someone had a sense of humor," Treesa replies, her eyes scanning the surroundings.

Fritz's gaze locks onto a glint near the entrance—a small, shiny object half-buried in the dirt. "Ooh, shiny!" they exclaim, darting forward.

Jareth swiftly grabs their arm. "Could be a trap," he cautions, his grip firm but gentle.

"Or it could be treasure," Fritz retorts, their eyes still fixed on the object.

Aure steps forward, her fingers weaving subtle patterns in the air. "Allow me," she says, casting Mage Hand to lift the object. It's a tarnished silver coin, which promptly disintegrates into dust. "Well, that's not ominous at all."

They proceed into the cave, which smells faintly of sulfur and questionable life choices. The walls are etched with ancient draconic runes, many of which have been scratched out and replaced with what can only be described as a series of increasingly desperate tallies. One section reads, "Day 154: Still no visitors. Starting to think the 'Free Gold' sign was a bad idea."

"Reassuring," Aure mutters.

The tunnel soon splits into two distinct paths:

Fritz practically vibrates with excitement. "Left! There's definitely treasure that way. And maybe pastries!"

Jareth shakes his head. "It's too obvious. Anything that inviting is likely a trap. I say we take the right path."

Aure rubs her chin thoughtfully. "The left could be an illusion designed to lure us in. But it might also be the quickest route to the hoard."

Coriander grins. "I'm always up for a bit of fun. Left path has that 'live a little' vibe."

Treesa closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I feel a strange energy from the right path. It's unsettling but not necessarily dangerous."

Jareth crosses his arms. "Our mission is to find the hoard with minimal complications. We should avoid unnecessary risks."

Fritz pouts, their eyes still glued to the enticing glow down the left corridor. "But where's the fun in that?"

The group stands at the crossroads, each path promising its own brand of adventure—or misadventure.

What will you decide?

• Option 1: Follow Fritz's lead down the left path, lured by the flickering light and the sounds of possible revelry (and pastries).
• Option 2: Heed Jareth's caution and take the right path, braving the cold and eerie silence in hopes of avoiding traps.

Choosing the left path, the group ventures toward the warm glow and enticing aromas. As they proceed, the sweet scent of cinnamon rolls grows stronger, mingling with hints of honey and fresh-baked bread. The tunnel widens, and the rough stone walls give way to intricate carvings depicting scenes of dragons and treasure, all gilded with gold leaf that shimmers in the light.

"Now this is more like it!" Fritz exclaims, their eyes reflecting the golden hues. They skip ahead, barely containing their excitement.

"Stay alert," Jareth warns, gripping his Shadowsteel Longsword tightly. "This could be a lure."

The corridor opens into a grand chamber that defies the drab exterior of the cave. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, illuminating the room with a soft, inviting light. Long tables are laden with piles of gold coins, glittering gemstones, and ornate artifacts. Plush carpets cover the floor, and in the corner, a fountain gushes with what appears to be liquid silver.

At the center of it all stands a massive treasure chest encrusted with jewels, its lid slightly ajar to reveal even more wealth within.

Coriander whistles. "Well, if this is a trap, it's the nicest one I've ever seen."

Aure narrows her eyes. "Something feels off. It's too... perfect."

Treesa nods in agreement. "Magic is at work here. I can feel it."

Fritz is already halfway to the treasure chest. "Come on! This is what we came for!"

As they step further into the chamber, the entrance seals shut behind them with a resounding boom. The room's atmosphere shifts; the warm light takes on a reddish hue, and the shadows cast by the chandeliers grow longer and more distorted.

"Well, that's not ominous at all," Coriander quips, his hand instinctively moving to his dagger.

From the walls, ethereal figures begin to materialize—translucent dragons of various sizes, their forms flickering like flames. They circle the room slowly, their eyes fixed on the intruders.

Jareth steps forward. "We mean no harm, we've been sent for treasure by the Dragon King," he commands, trying to project authority.

One of the spectral dragons hovers closer, its voice echoing as if coming from a deep well. "Those who seek riches must first prove their worth."

Fritz gulps but tries to stand tall. "But we're here on behalf of the Dragon King. He gave us permission!"

"Permission perhaps," the dragon replies, "but worthiness is earned."

Aure quickly whispers to the group, "These are guardian spirits. Maybe we can reason with them."

"Or outsmart them," Coriander adds under his breath.

The spectral dragon continues, "Answer our riddle, and the treasure is yours. Fail, and join the others who have tried."

They now notice, scattered among the riches, are stone statues of adventurers frozen in various poses of surprise and fear.

"Charming decor," Treesa mutters.

The dragon presents the riddle:

"I have towns without people, forests without trees, and rivers without water. What am I?"

Fritz looks puzzled. "Towns without people?"

Jareth furrows his brow. "Forests without trees..."

Aure's eyes light up. "I think I know this one."

The spectral dragons wait silently as the group deliberates.

• Option 1: Attempt to solve the riddle, trusting Aure's insight.
• Option 2: Distract the guardians while trying to find another exit or way to bypass them.
• Option 3: Engage the guardians in combat, hoping that defeating them will break any enchantments and grant access to treasure.

Aure whispers, "If we can distract them, we might find another way around."

Coriander grins mischievously. "Leave that to me."

He steps forward toward the spectral dragons, who are as large and imposing as any true dragon. "Oh, esteemed guardians!" he begins with an exaggerated bow, "Before we attempt your challenging riddle, could I ask a few... clarifying questions?"

The lead dragon eyes him skeptically. "Speak, but be swift."

"Excellent!" Coriander exclaims. "When you say 'towns without people,' are we talking about ghost towns? Or perhaps miniature models? I once visited a place with tiny ceramic villages—absolutely no inhabitants!"

The dragon's spectral eyes narrow. "The riddle is as it is."

"Right, of course," Coriander nods vigorously. "But 'forests without trees'—could that be an allegory? Maybe a deforested area? Or is it more of a philosophical conundrum about the essence of a forest? Or capitalism?"

Meanwhile, Aure subtly casts Minor Illusion, creating faint whispers and footsteps echoing from a tunnel behind the dragons.

One of the lesser dragons swivels its massive head. "Did you hear that?"

"Probably just echoes," another replies, though uncertainty laces its voice.

Fritz takes the opportunity to scan the chamber walls. Spotting a faint shimmer, they realize it's a concealed passage. "Over here," Fritz mouths, gesturing to the others.

Jareth and Treesa quietly move toward the hidden exit, staying low. Aure maintains the illusion, amplifying the distant sounds to mimic hurried footsteps.

Coriander continues his barrage of questions. "And these rivers without water—are we discussing metaphorical rivers? Like rivers of time or perhaps sand? Is it a dry riverbed? Or maybe—"

"Enough!" the lead dragon snaps, smoke curling from its nostrils. "Your babble tests our patience."

Just then, the dragon notices the others slipping away. "Deceivers!"

Coriander flashes a cheeky grin. "Well, it's been a pleasure!" He dashes toward the hidden passage as the dragons give chase.

The group races down the dimly lit tunnel, the angry roars of the spectral dragons echoing behind them. The passage opens into a vast chamber filled with whimsical decorations—floating lanterns, colorful tapestries, and heaps of treasure arranged in playful piles.

Atop a mound of glittering gold lounges a large spectral dragon, dwarfing the guardians they just evaded. His scales shimmer with iridescent hues, and a mischievous smile plays across his face.

"Well, isn't this a delightful surprise!" the dragon says with a chuckle. "Not every day someone outwits my conjured gatekeepers. Or every month. Or... well, ever."

Fritz blinks. "And you are?"

The dragon performs an elaborate bow, his massive form somehow graceful. "I am Dolos, youngest of the Dragon King's siblings. Master of mirth and mischief."

Aure's eyes widen. "Dolos? Like the spirit of trickery?"

"Precisely!" Dolos grins. "Names have power, and I quite like mine."

Coriander laughs. "I think we're kindred spirits."

Dolos claps his claws together. "Your antics were splendid! Those stuffy specters needed a good jest."

Jareth steps forward cautiously. "We apologize for the intrusion. We seek the hoard left by the Dragon King's—well, I guess, your family."

Dolos waves a massive claw dismissively. "No apologies needed. In fact, I'm inclined to reward such cleverness."

"Why help us?" Treesa asks, curiosity overcoming caution.

The dragon sighs, a wistful look in his eyes. "Eternity can be dreadfully dull. A good laugh is worth more than all the gold in these hoards. Besides, I admire those who rely on wit over brawn. And it's not like it's doing me any good. I mean, I'm dead after all... I'm just a... well... best not to dwell on that too much."

He gestures grandly, and the chamber illuminates to reveal an even greater wealth of treasures—oddities and artifacts piled high.

"Feel free to take what catches your eye," Dolos says with a wink. "I collected and created a great amount of objects. Most to make the world a little more fun."

As they begin to sift through the treasures, Dolos grows pensive, his gaze distant. "You know, my brother Tharion wasn't always as he was when he was imprisoned."

Fritz looks up. "The Dragon King?"

Dolos nods slowly. "Our father, the Dragon Titan, was a harsh ruler. Realizing the Age of Titans was coming to an end, he treated Tharion like a weapon, not a son. It was our eldest brother who, in desperation and perhaps jealousy, sided with the Fey to imprison him."

Aure steps closer. "Do you think Tharion has changed?"

"Perhaps," Dolos sighs. "Now that he's free from our father's influence, maybe he can finally discover who he truly is. There were flashes of the kind and funny older brother of our youth occasionally."

He pauses, a soft glow beginning to emanate from his form. "With you finding this hoard, my purpose here is fulfilled."

"Wait, what do you mean?" Jareth asks.

Dolos smiles gently. "I've lingered in this realm to guard these treasures and share a bit of joy. But it's time for me to move on back to the weave. Or maybe someplace else."

As Dolos's form begins to shimmer, signaling his impending departure, he pauses as if remembering something important.

"Before I go," he says, his voice echoing gently through the chamber, "there is one more gift I wish to bestow upon you—a family heirloom of great significance."

He extends a massive claw, and from thin air materializes a beautifully crafted mask. It's made of an unknown, iridescent metal that shifts colors in the light, adorned with intricate patterns resembling laughing dragon faces. The mask emanates a subtle, warm glow.

"This is the Mask of Mirth's Legacy," Dolos explains. "It has been passed down through our family for generations, embodying the essence of joy, creativity, and the subtle power of misdirection. It was a favorite of mine during my time in the mortal realm."

He gently places the mask into Fritz's hands. "May it serve you well in your adventures."

Fritz gazes at the mask in awe. "It's... beautiful," they whisper.

Aure examines it closely. "An artifact of incredible power. This will be a great asset."

Dolos smiles softly. "Use it wisely. Let it remind you that even in darkness, joy and laughter can be the greatest sources of strength."

With that, Dolos dissipates into a cascade of shimmering lights that float upward and vanish, leaving the chamber feeling both emptier and yet somehow more serene.

Jareth nods respectfully. "We will honor your gift and your memory. Also, I kinda needed that after finding out my wife was actually an evil version that became a giant shadow beast that I think killed the original one? Honestly, so many depressing things have happened that I'm really glad I joined up with Team Sky Sea."

Fritz stared at the mask, focused on the shiny embellishments before they realized Jareth was talking to them.

"I'm sorry, what?"