Last night we made and played our Dragon Blooded. I played Rogeru, the Mountain’s Hammer, also known as the Hammered Mountain. It was a lot of fun. Here is the end of our session from the eyes of Rogeru.
The ship was off, leaving Nexus and heading to Great Forks. There was some artifact, or something. The Mountain couldn’t remember, and didn’t really care. He just knew if he failed he would never get a stipend from his overly wealthy family again. However, while he was going on the incredibly important mission with two other Blooded, one from House Tepet and the other from the Seventh, he would at least enjoy himself.
The Mountain was not a pretty man, or even a mildly attractive man. He was a round man with tan flesh, which was hard to see through thick, black chest hair. His beard was thick and long, though well kept considering, and he had some matching hair on his head. A bandanna adorned his brow, one he was given ten years earlier and had not washed since. It both looked and smelled it. His pants were ragged, and he walked barefoot. As an earth aspected Dragon, he enjoyed the feeling of earth on his soles.
Over his shoulder he held a barrel of his home brew, the Mountain’s Ale. It was known far and wide through the land, and when he came into the tavern on the small ship, he quite expected people to swarm him for his swill. But this did not happen. He stayed with Tepet and the Gente in the corner, drinking and talking about their own war experiences. Until a mortal shouted, “Those Dynasts are good for nothing.”
The Mountain’s nose flared and his face turned the color of iron when still in the earth. He got up and stormed over to the mortals playing cards, unstrapped his grand goremaul, and dropped it on the table, shattering it and sending cards and coin scattering. “What did you say?” His boisterous voice put a halt to the merriment, at least whatever hadn’t been halted by his weapon crashing down on the table.
“Hey,” the mortal’s eyes were wide, his teeth shattering, “Just trying to get your attention, buddy. Join us for cards? We’d love your company and your coin.”
Rogeru was taken back by this. Gambling? He looked over at his barrel, then at the Dynast and Gente traveling with him, then at his barrel. He shouted, “Any of you have jade or silver? I don’t really have any money.” They both shook their head and Rogeru looked back at the men, vexed. “I don’t have coin,” the words were barely audible. A Blooded without coin?! It was a shameful story of drunken debauchery after being kicked out of the Immaculate Order. “I do have my home brew.”
One man laughed, “Your alcohol? That’s not….” Another mortal leaned over and whispered. “Oh. You’re the Hammered Mountain? That’s famous stuff, then. Alright, give him some coin. Your barrel is the wager.”
With pride, the Earth Prince puffed his chest, “Now we’re talking.” Tepet joined as well.
The first hand came out. Rogeru wasn’t quite sure what he was playing, as he was accustomed to dice, but the dragons blessed the Dynasts, and he could not lose. As the people went around putting in their wagers, Rogeru pushed in all his coins, “I’m all in!” Everyone looked at him, an odd look on their face. Tepet matched, the mortals folded, except the last one.
“I raise you.” The look was sly, a weasel trying to con the great Houses!
“Fine. I have few material goods, but this is what I have to offer.” He ripped off his pants and slammed them on the table, standing spread and proud. Horror, shame, curiosity, and numerous other looks took over the patrons as he stood there in full shame, but lacking any shame himself. The men at the table winced.
Just then the Lookshy Gente stood up, unsheathing his weapon, “Something is coming.” The boat pitched and loud thuds and screams were heard outside. As Rogeru loosed his maul, two river dragons, twenty meters in length and several tons in weight, burst through the doors. A mortal was snapped up instantly.
The Gente went at them with vigor, a magical halberd hacking one, making quick work. The Mountain took his stance, the Earth Form, concentrating. As he finished, the water dragon snapped at him. Rogeru jumped back, eyes wide in horror, flaccid junk waving in the air like a worm. He cried out, “Not the wee wee!” The jaws of the beast shut with a thunderclap, but Rogeru’s manhood remained firmly attached.
Then the dragon went at the Gente, and with another attack, the Gente nearly killed it. The Mountain was incensed. How dare one take all the kills when he had not even stricken once! With his mighty goremaul he charged at the great beast and brought the hammer down upon its head, crushing its skull and causing the deck under it to creak and buckle. Rogeru roared, lifting his hammer high above his head, “That’s how it’s done!”
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