Harkan and his warriors, before they were whittled down and exiled, whetted their blades against giants, ogres, ettins, and rocs. They have no experience fighting dragon-kin.
"Wounded, the beast is at its most vulnerable - and its most ferocious," Harkan advises.
Fergus d'Beranza, another former Galtan noble who provided support to the expedition, steps forth - rubbing a bump on his head acquired when he took a stumble during the chaos.
"We could leave it be," d'Beranza suggests. "Leave it to lick its wounds and continue on our way."
The notion is shot down by Machus, who trots up and shakes his head in a chiding manner.
"That's a bad idea," the centaur says sardonically. "Drakes like that nurse grudges. It'll likely come after us again, striking out for vengeance in the night."
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"I can't say I'm honestly a fan of following a drake into its lair, but if it's going to come after us for revenge, we may as well strike where it can't use flight to its advantage."
Soraya racks her brain for any information she's read about what river drakes might be immune to, or vulnerable to.
Soraya knows that, as dragon-kin, drakes are immune to magics of sleep and paralysis. Additionally, owing to their closer relation to black dragons, river drakes in particular have a great resistance to acidic and caustic substances.
They do not have any particular weaknesses. However, they are hunters that rely on speed and maneuverability, so by desperately retreating into its lair it may have sacrificed one of its greatest defenses.
"Those things are smart enough to come after us? We had better not let it sit and plot then as scary and dangerous as the thought of going in after it is."
He began despite the magical healing he rubbed his ribs from were the drake had bitten him almost in rememberance of that terror.
"Then it's settled! A small group of us can hunt the beast in its lair and remove any fear that it will come for us in the night!"
He pats Caragus.
"And you stay out here. I doubt the cave will be kind to horses."
The sides of the canyon are rough, mossy stone, slick with spray from the two-tiered waterfall.
Making your way down will be a tricky prospect.
"We need rope and lots of it!"
As soon as the group gathers enough rope to facilitate their climb, Soraya finds herself in a unique position where she can just jump down (via the flight hex, she can use feather fall at will on herself). She casts dancing lights as well to make sure that the party has plenty of light to see in the dark cave. Lucias seems agitated at the idea of going after the drake, but dutifully follows.
Carefully picking your way down the canyon walls, using natural trails when possible and long lengths of sturdy rope otherwise, the party reaches the bottom and stands upon the narrow, rocky shore along the lake's edge.
Wet gravel crunches underfoot and you are showered by spray as you make your way towards the wide, low cavern entrance. The ground sinks beneath the waterline before the cavern, and you find yourselves up to your knees in places as you approach the drake lair.
The bones of many large animals - likely antelopes and bison - jut out from the water and sit upon sandbars. The terrible odor of rotting meat wafts out from the cavern itself. Soraya's magic lights cast flitting shadows across the rough stone walls within.
With bardiche in hand, Dorick makes to move in front of the group.
"Alright no offense Sir Dorick perhaps you might uh not want to wander first, dont want to alert the beast too soon, I've some practice in night work formerly. I'll see if i cant pinpoit the beast and slide back to you if you like."
He offered sliding his rapier out then a dagger.
"Go and scout. Just don't die."
Dorick chuckles softly.
"That is a fair observation Francoix. Scout, but as Fendir says, don't die."
A thick fog of gnats and flies throngs the mouth of the cavern, clinging to your clothes and buzzing into your mouth. It takes great restraint to avoid spitting and sputtering, which would foil your stealthy approach.
The cavern roof is low. A company of men carrying longspears would find their weapons scraping the stone ceiling. However, as you wade further into the lair, the water deepens until you are up to your waist.
You pause, as the submerged cave floor beneath your feet seems to fall away from here, creating a deeper pool of water.
You notice fresh bits of gore floating in the water with countless tiny, silvery fish pecking at them. However, you cannot see the drake.
Off to the right, dimly lit by Soraya's magic, you can see what appears to be a sandbar raised above the water. Many small somethings glint in the flitting light.
The slippery young cook would return hopefully as quietly as he came to the others. With a slight frown he began to recout everything he saw.
"The long and short of it is, the drake thing might be in a cave under the water, didnt see it, couldnt see well enough in the dark and I certainly wasnt going to pull out a torch in then and make myself a target. Something on that sandbar glints so there is that."
"Well, let's go in together and see if we can attract it's attention." offers Fendir.
"Good work Francoix. And let us do just that Fendir."
Kalig checks the ground and walls for blood, tracks, and scat, to be sure the only creature within is indeed the wounded male, and not, say, younglings.
Thick swarms of flies and gnats throng the cave interior.
The cavern roof is low. A company of men carrying longspears would find their weapons scraping the stone ceiling. However, as you wade further into the lair, the water deepens until you are up to your waist.
As you wade further in, many tiny silver fish dart away from the bits of rotting meat and globs of much fresher blood that they were pecking at.
Other than insects and small cave fish, it seems highly unlikely that anything other than the drakes dwelt within this cavern.
Judging by the pervasive odor within, it is clear that the drakes have been stockpiling prey. Given river drakes' tendency to kill more than they can eat, letting the meat fester and rot to meet their taste, it is hard to discern whether they may have been storing more food than usual for drakelings.
Ultimately, based upon a number of observations, Kalig judges that there may be eggs, but no hatched drakelings.
Dorick does wonder out loud:
"Could the eggs be hatched - and the drakelings trained?"
"Smells like Uncle Grak's hut." Kalig observes. "He's going to be guarding his eggs--all the moreso now that mama's gone."
She raises an eyebrow at Dorick, as he comments upon the eggs. "Let's try not to be drowned to death by an acid spitter before we plan our questionable practices with its offspring."
Soraya taps Kalig on the shoulder. "I have an idea. I often like to keep handy a horse summoning spell. What if I summon one on the spit of land? It might serve as a distraction for the drake." She looks over at Dorick. "I don't think you'd want to ride it into battle down here," she says jokingly, trying to lighten the tension.
Training them like a horse or hound is simply impossible - their pride and cunning would never allow it, unless their will was broken by a particularly harsh taskmaster.
At best, a partnership of sorts could be cultivated with a drakeling - indeed, drake familiars are not unheard of - but their inherently cruel nature would be a serious obstacle to be contend with in such a relationship.
Perception:
On the spit of land on the right, you spot the remains of a couple carts dragged into the cavern alongside the putrefying remains of their draft animals. It seems likely that these drakes have been preying upon passing caravans, stocking their fetid larder with meat and accumulating a "dragon's hoard" of their own.
You also spot three sizeable, leathery eggs ensconced among the collection heaped on the sandy spit.
"I appreciate your fondness for unusual pets, Sir Dorick, but I would not recommend a drake as a companion. Even if you could do it, it might end VERY poorly. They are not nice creatures. It simply isn't in their nature." She sighs as she notices something while speaking. "And... there are eggs. Look there," she says, trying to point them out.
She lowers her voice. "Hmm, that would definitely grab the drake's attention... shooting one of the eggs, that is."
"Over there," she points to a shadow in the water toward the line. "Don't know if you can see it, but he's waiting to ambush from the water again. Shoot the egg, summon the horse, do something or he'll pounce again anyway."
Dorick listens to the counsel of Kalig and Soraya, and with a hint of reluctance, nods.
Quietly, he replies:
"Aye. Let us focus on the task at hand. Summon the horse."
Soraya nods. She moves a little closer to the sandbar and concentrates. With a flick if her wrist, a scattering of horse hair, and a few arcane syllables, a pony appears on the sandbar, complete with bit, bridle, and saddle. It whinnies, nods its head, and stomps a few times in the sand to get its footing.
Initiative:
A swirl of fog and dust forms and then dissipates just as quickly, leaving the summoned pony whinnying upon the sandbar and stamping its hooves upon the water's edge. For a tense moment, the cave remains still and quiet, other than the buzzing of flies, soft snorts from the pony, and the occasional lapping of water against stone.
The dark, submerged shape described by Kalig grows larger as it nears the surface, racing through the water. Propelling itself with fins and wings, the drake bursts from the water and rushes towards the sandbar. Whether out of malice, insatiable hunger, or a protective instinct for its unhatched brood, the drake charges across the shallow water and pounces upon the hapless pony.
A shrieking whinny is quickly silenced as the drake bites down upon the pony's neck, shakes the mount like a ragdoll, then heaps it upon a pile of carrion with a flick of its tail. The drake then turns, interposing itself between you and its nest, and issues a snarl that echoes and magnifies against the cavern walls.
"Oh joy... it sounds angry."
He muttered dryly a little awestruck by its quick pounce and quicker dispatching of the summoned pony. Still they were here to do a job. He moved forward cautiously next to Soraya, defitnitely not wanting to slip and end up defenseless near the creature. He readied his blade to stab at its eyes or something if it decided to pounce at him.
The drake plants its legs firmly, rears back, and with a gurgling snarl, it spits a glob of caustic mucus at Francoix and Soraya.
The burning foulness explodes in the water at Francoix's feet, sending up a cloud of steam, but he nimbly avoids the brunt of the burst. Splashes of bile and mucus sear against his legs, but does not snare him in its sticky mess.
Soraya, unfortunately, is caught fully by the explosion and is rooted in place as the thick, ropy mucus make it harder for her to move.
Fendir moves forward some and then lets fly with a chunk of earth at the Drake.
Dorick charges through the barest of gaps between where his companions stand, narrowly missing them with his bardiche in his haste to strike at the drake.
Kalig wonders if she could use create water to wash the acid off Soraya, whom she moves toward while readying her shield.
If she determines that might work, she will cast that spell.
If she determine it would be ineffective, she casts frostbite and holds the charge, her hand glowing blue with little ice crystals forming in the air.
"Hold still for a moment, hold still.... Now!"
He murmers biting back a hiss as he grabs at the strands of gross mucus and tries to pry it back enough for her to squeeze out of it.
The broad blade of Dorick's bardiche leaves a deep, weeping wound upon the drake's belly.
Fendir rips a small but sharp stalactite from the cave ceiling, sending it plunging down upon the drake's back like a stone dagger.
In its death throes, the beast's final snarl is drowned out as its head flops down into the water, dousing Dorick with a fetid but harmless splash.
The acid burns through Francoix's gloves and sears his palms as he tries to help Soraya free herself.
Soraya grimaces in pain as she tears away from the glob, leaving bits of her skin and clothing behind.
Exhausted, she manages to croak, "Spread out. Don't let him... glob us all."
Dorick swings for where he last saw the beast's neck, trying to behead the beast and be certain.
"It has fallen! Can you get that slime off yourselves?"
Soraya spends a few minutes rinsing the acid off her body and what remains of her clothing. "Thanks for your help," she says to her comrades. "I'll be fine. Go see if there's anything interesting or useful in the hoard."
Dorick tries to fish the drake's head out of the water with his bardiche.
"The head is the quickest way to reassure the others that the threat is gone!", he says without turning around as he manoeuvres.
She casts the water spell on Soraya. "Don't use the water in here, it's filled with decaying stuff." She also hands the woman a potion of cure light wounds.
She raises an eyebrow at Dorick. "Careful, the hobs and the orcs might fight over it."
Kalig explores the lair.
Soraya nods her thanks to Kaling, drinking the potion.