A Shadow in the Tunnels
As the party ventures deeper into the mine, they hear ragged breathing and catch glimpses of something large shifting in the dimly lit cavern ahead. The ominous sound they had heard beyond the rubble now takes form—a shape, curled in distress. When they finally set eyes on the creature, they see a copper dragon, young and battered, huddled against the stone. Her shimmering scales are dulled with dust, and wounds mar her form. Fear and confusion gleam in her wide, reptilian eyes.
“I am Kerocrot,” a calm and soothing voice speaks. “Please help me. I bear you no ill will.”
A Wounded Spirit
Kerocrot’s body bears fresh wounds: bruises from falling debris, and an angry scorch mark where a torch struck her. As the party cautiously approaches, she shifts, her wings pressing tightly to her sides. Nayzungit, ever the healer, steps forward with careful, open hands. He can see the pain in her gaze, a sorrow beyond mere injury. He invokes Angradd’s healing light, murmuring words of comfort, while the rest of the party maintains a wary stance.
A Misunderstood Encounter
Through pained whispers, Kerocrot recounts her tragic misunderstanding with the miners. “I awoke to voices—unfamiliar, sharp, and startled. My head was heavy with exhaustion, my limbs stiff from sleep. I did not know where I was, only that I had hidden in these tunnels, thinking them safe. Then, suddenly, the shouting began. A sharp light burned my vision, and the smell of fire filled my nose. I moved, trying to see, to understand who had found me.”
Her voice trembles as she continues. “They screamed. Some backed away, but others stood firm. A torch sailed through the air—I barely had time to react before it struck my side. The fire clung to me, and I felt my scales burn. It was agony unlike anything I had known. My tail thrashed—I tried to retreat, to escape them—but in my panic, my wing clipped a wooden post. I did not know it held the tunnel’s stability. I only wanted to flee. Then… then everything came crashing down. I heard the splintering of wood, the shifting of rock, the panicked cries of the miners. I ran, but the earth swallowed me too.”
She lowers her head, eyes filled with regret. “I did not mean to harm them. I did not mean to bring ruin upon their home. But they feared me, and their fear turned to anger. I was already lost in these tunnels. Now, I am lost in their hatred as well. I feared them as well as they attacked, bringing the brutish memories of the loss of my kin.”
A Brood Lost to Darkness
The party listens as Kerocrot’s sorrow deepens. She speaks of her family—a small brood of copper dragons that once made their home in the craggy peaks of the eastern mountains. “We were not mighty or ancient, but we were happy,” she says, a far-off wistfulness in her tone. “My mother and father taught my siblings and me the joys of riddles, the art of play. We would dance through the skies, twisting and tumbling in friendly contests. The mountain was our home, our sanctuary.”
She swallows before continuing. “Then they came. At first, they were whispers in the dark shadows—tales of cloaked grey-skinned evil creatures moving through the tunnels below our home; of greed lurking beneath the mountain’s roots. My father did not believe the warnings. ‘No duergar would dare challenge a dragon’s home,’ he told us constantly. He was wrong.”
Remembering Those Lost
Her claws dig into the stone. “They came at night, their torches like hateful stars against the cliffs. They struck without warning, their weapons honed to pierce even dragonhide. We fought. My father’s breath roared against the darkness, my mother’s wings beat hurricanes against them. But for every duergar that fell, another took his place. They were endless, relentless.”
Kerocrot takes a shaky breath. “My siblings… my dear brothers and sisters… They tried to flee, but the duergar were waiting. They cut them down as they took to the air. I remember my youngest sister’s final cry as she fell from the sky, her wings torn and broken. I remember my brother’s last stand, his tail whipping like a tempest before they overwhelmed him.”
She shakes her head, the sorrow unbearable. “I was the last. My father roared for me to run, my mother’s voice was desperate, pleading. I hesitated. I didn’t want to leave them. But when I saw my father fall, saw the duergar swarm over his body like ants over prey… I knew I had no choice; so I fled into the tunnels, the same ones they had carved, the same ones they used to steal into our home. I thought I was dead, but fate was cruel—it let me live while they all perished.”
The Narrow Escape
Kerocrot’s voice quivers as she recounts the desperate flight from her home. With her siblings and parents slain, she had no choice but to flee, weaving through narrow tunnels and twisting caverns as the duergar pursued. The memory of their torches flickering in the darkness, their guttural voices barking orders, haunts her. She barely managed to slip away through an underwater passage, leaving behind everything she had ever known. Lost and weary, she wandered the tunnels beneath the mountains until exhaustion took her, leading her to these mines.
The Party’s Response
Nayzungit, deeply moved by Kerocrot’s tale, insists that they must help her. Makhulim, who had initially been wary of the dragon, strokes his beard in contemplation. Even Marcho and Faylen, who have seen many tragic tales, seem affected by the young dragon’s sorrow. Slowly, the tension in the air dissipates as the party recognizes that this lost soul is not their enemy, but a victim of misfortune.
The Path to Redemption
As the party deliberates on their next move, Kerocrot expresses her desire to make amends. She does not wish to be seen as a monster, nor does she want to bring further harm to those above. She offers to help repair the damage she caused—perhaps by using her strength to move rubble or carrying resources. But she knows that the miners will not easily trust her, and she fears retaliation. The party must now decide how best to approach the mayor and the townsfolk with the truth.
Earning Trust
The party leads Kerocrot carefully through the tunnels, taking care to avoid further harm to her. They discuss ways to ensure the miners understand what truly happened—that it was not malice but fear and pain that led to the collapse. The challenge lies ahead: convincing those who have lost friends and livelihoods that the very creature they fear deserves a second chance.
Beginning Anew
With the dawn of a new peace and a sorrowful understanding, the party and Kerocrot emerge from the mine.
It is now time to see if she will find acceptance in Otian, or if she must seek a new home elsewhere. But for the first time since her escape, Kerocrot feels a glimmer of hope—that perhaps, through these adventurers, she has found kind allies in a world that has been cruel to her.
