Tales From My D&D Campaign Wiki
Hero Tale.PNG A pretty obvious reader avatar for this power fantasy

This article is a non-canonical fanfiction.

What power does a story hold? And what happens if the story is getting twisted? We all know this story, The Warrior in shining armor made out of Dragons scales who slays the evil, rescues the innocent and leaves, leaving a trail of admirers.

Then the dragon speaks to the Warrior. “You make your armor out of the scales on one of my kin, why shouldn’t I kill you?” “I do good, help the innocent and thwart evil wherever I go; I made my armor out of the scales of one of your kin who was already dead. I have done nothing wrong.” “So I will make armor out of you when you and your kin die, so I shall do good, help the innocent and thwart evil wherever I go and honor your past.”

Sometimes a twisted story is all you need to give yourself a goal.


It was happy. It found a good idea for something it wanted to make and the astral resonance should work really well. It just needed to find the necessary materials. It was a bit of an outsider in its village, because it was more into arcane arts then the other of its race, but still respected because it looked beyond the normal scale of their people. That really didn’t help with its pledge. It was thrown out of the village shorty after that it told everyone their idea. What is wrong with skinning some of these nasty gnomes alive, tanning their skin and easily enchant the leather that they won from their heroes? It glided through the jungle, their brown goo form gave it a pretty good camouflage in this habitat, but the hunters were already on Its tail.

 It was so much lost in thought that it didn’t see nor hear the hunters, not that the one eye it had in Its center gave the best vision.

A sharp pain manifested on Its side where a lance of fire had hit It. Its body shuddered away from the flames and Its eye focused on one of the attackers. There was a dragon born, who had just opened his foul maw to spew accursed flames at it. A stone hit it nearly directly in the eye it flinched and saw the other thread: one of those dangerous Halflings! And that was still not the end of it. A human nearly jumped out of the bushes and hacked at Its poor defenseless body with a sword that cut way too deep in Its malleable form.

There were too much, It had to flee. It raised Its hands, the human raised the shield to protect himself, but It didn’t attack, instead he cast a spell. Mist gathered around himself and it ran quickly away. The human hacked at it, but with Its quick movement and the cover from the mist the stupid human missed. “The thing is a caster!” The shrill voice of the Halfling cried with no small amount of surprise, which gave It a tiny bit of pleasure among the pain of Its wounds. “I got it!” The deep and frightening voice of the dragon born barked and the mist was blown away by a sudden Gust of Wind.

It cursed, the three assailants were following It like hellhounds and didn’t get slower, the damn Halfling did… Something and suddenly the ugly little thing was at Its side! He stabbed It with his dagger and that hurt! It hurt so much! Totally panicked it hardened It’s goo and shot spikes at the Halfling, the quick little rat evaded most of it and was just grazed by the remaining ones, the other attackers quickly came closer, the dragon born did a sign that It knew just a little bit too well, the somatic components of a Bands of Steel spell, making Its demise nearly certain. It opened his eye as far as possible, wanting to experience Its last moment with all Its senses.

It didn’t exactly happen like It had thought.

A massive gooey spike drove itself through the Halfling quickly followed by another one, the dragon born lost his spell after getting hit by three more, the human raised his shield to block the last spike that was shot in his direction and with horror in his eyes he saw a massive green creature, quickly hardening Its spikes again.

Quickly surveying the situation the human turned, the Halfling was dead and the dragon born nearly keeled over too. But he slipped on a patch of grease that It conjured with a quick and decisive motion of Its hands.

The dragon born casted a spell on his own and ran away quickly like the wind, propelled through his quickened casting of the Expeditious retreat spell, which It easily identified. The big green spikes that the other one of Its kin shoot, hit some trees impotently and failed to kill the accursed caster. The human tried to frantically get away, his arms and legs flailing wildly, trying to get a grip on the ground but the fat grease he was trapped in gave him no chance.

Both creatures finished him off, before he could get on his feet.

They talked with one another in a language so strange and unbelievable that just trying to pronounce it without a throat full of goo would be laughable; instead we will transcribe what they say to common.

Brown goo person: “Thanks, for helping me, what are you doing out there in this part of the world? And why are you so big?”

Green goo person: “I was just wandering around when I saw you, all alone. You must be like me, expelled from our people. I never stopping growing, I got bigger and bigger. They are afraid of me and my growth; they thought I eat another of our kin and got rid of me. What are you doing out here?”

Brown goo person: “I thought of a way to help our kin. They did not appreciate my idea.”

Green goo person: “We should take the stuff of these guys; you know if we get enough stuff, we could go back to our kin and show them that they were wrong to get rid of us.”

Brown goo person: “Save me the skin.”