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Paths of Glory: The Wizard's Tower, Page 3

Rich Cerow
He might just be showing affection, in his own dragon way.

The Northern Roads wind all through the Anatoran Valley, a pleasant and verdant way to spend an afternoon travelling. As you near the caves, however, you notice a decidedly morbid turn in the heretofore pleasant and inviting fauna; they take on a blackening, gradually as you get closer. Upon further inspection, you realize that the blackening is actually soot, undoubtedly from the flaming snarls of the evil Dragon. Your heart beats quickly, as you come to realize how perilus this journey is about to become.

THOOM! The ground quakes beneath you. The trees in this idyllic countryside quiver. Small mammals madly dash to their holes. THOOM! The other foot falls, and you see standing before you the terrifying visage of a twelve farthings tall, red-scaled dragon. Smoke curls from its lips. You hear the dragon hiss as it takes in breath, readying your fiery death. You reach to your side to brandish your sword from its sheath, and find...there's nothing there! You have come unarmed and unprepared. As you stand frozen in fear, the dragon exhales a stream of flame. You burn alive.

THOU ART DEADETH.