The door broke off its hinges and flew backwards as Sivlander charged into the room. He realized that he was inside some kind of medieval torture chamber. There were boiling cauldrons of water, large iron maidens designed to do elaborate torture, and worst of all, there was a young woman tied to the wall, her arms and legs forced to make a large X with her body. Standing before the weeping woman was the Cult Leader, armed with a ceremonial dagger.

“You fool!” the Cult Leader said as he turned to face Sivlander. “Do you not realize what we are trying to achieve? This world is full of misery, pain, and hate. Everyone consumes and devours one another! All we are trying to do is bring an end to the suffering!”

You are making things worse! Violence only begets violence! Good point, I’ll join you! The only way to end suffering is to help others, not destroy them!

Sivlander selected the third option, keeping his eyes on the clock. There was still enough time to defeat this guy before the game kicked them out.

“Fool!” the Cultist bellowed again. “Everything I do, I do for the greater good!” The dialogue mode ended as the Cultist turned around to stab the young woman with the dagger.

“Help! They’re trying to sacrifice me! Help!” the woman shouted.

Sivlander launched into action, charging forward as fast as he could to intercept the Cultist. He swung his sword at the exposed back of the leader and felt the blade connect hard. 200 damage floated above the Cultists’ head as well as the words Sacrifice Interrupted.

“You will pay for that!” the Cultist screeched as he turned around and waved his scepter at Sivlander. A blast of powerful magical energy surged out of the scepter and knocked Sivlander onto his back. He slid a few feet away from the Cultist and banged his head against one of the torture devices. Even though it had been a powerful blast, Sivlander hadn’t taken any damage from the attack.

Instead of pressing forward, the Cultist returned to his ritual and the words Sacrificing… appeared over his head. A timer starting at 10 and running down quickly also appeared. Sivlander leapt up and rushed the Cultist again, attacking the man with a fierce blow meant to knock him away from the woman. The blow connected but the Cultist didn’t move. 50 damage, movement resisted floated above him.

Again, the Cult Leader turned around, repeated the same dialogue as before, and blasted Sivlander with his scepter.

“Ah, it’s some kind of puzzle,” Sivlander said as he climbed back up. The timer of the sacrifice was dropping down again and even though he had been hitting the Cultist pretty hard, there wasn’t even a health bar above the man. There had to be some kind of way to knock him away from the woman before he sacrificed her. If she was sacrificed, it would probably juice-up the great Wyrm to a place where it couldn’t be defeated.

“Guys, get in here!” Sivlander shouted out the door. This was probably the section that required four people in order to win. He rushed up and attacked the Cult Leader, only to be blasted again. He did this over and over again until finally Trefor, Samir, and Germane came into the room. They were drenched in blood.

“Man, you missed their weird sacrificial monster beast,” Samir said. “It exploded all over us when we killed it.”

“There’s no time!” Sivlander shouted. “I can’t kill this guy and if I leave him alone for ten seconds, he’ll sacrifice this woman and make the Wyrm super-powered!”

“Oh, so we need to figure out how to make him vulnerable?” Trefor asked. “Uhhh, how?”

“I don’t know!” Sivlander exclaimed as he ran back to get blasted by the Cult Leader for the 15th time.

“Well if he’s invulnerable, then there’s probably something inside this place that is making him so powerful,” Samir said. “Maybe an amulet?”

“Nah, it’s gotta be the hat!” Germane said as he rushed to knock the hat off of the Cult Leader. As he swung his hammer, the Cult Leader swiftly turned around and fired another bolt of energy, knocking the short warrior flat on his back.

“Yeah, real nice,” Samir commented as he searched around.

“Hey, check it out! “Trefor said as he lifted up a large metal pair of shackles. “I bet we can use this to restrain him.”

“How?” Sivlander asked as he stood back up and dusted himself off. “I’m too tired to think from being knocked back so much.”

“I got it; we just stagger our attacks. Sivlander, you attack first,” Trefor said, “then Samir, you rush him, and then Germane. By then his staff should be worn out and I can throw these shackles on this jerk!”

“Well it’s worth a shot! Three, two, one…go!” Sivlander shouted as he ran as fast as he could toward the villain, striking him again. Of course, he was on his back within a matter of seconds. Germane landed next to him and Samir landed atop him.

“Oof!” Samir gasped. “That packs a wallop!”

They heard a click followed by a “Huzzah!” by Trefor.

“It worked!” Trefor said. “He’s restrained!”

“So it was a puzzle,” Sivlander said as he got back on his feet. He bent down to help Samir and Germane stand up.

“Thank you, noble heroes!” the woman hanging from the wall said. “By binding him with the chains of Azern, this terrible man will not be able to sacrifice me to the terrible Wyrm.”

Sivlander looked over to see that the Cultist was bound by the golden chains, lying on the floor, and unable to move. The staff was on the ground.

“Should we touch that?” Germane asked as he pointed to the staff.

“I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t,” Samir said as he walked over and bent down to pick up the staff. The staff began to glow as he lifted it high in the air. “Well the instructions on the staff say that in order to find the powerful dragon, we must open up the Eye of Azern. There he rests, but entering his dominion will awaken him. But without the ritual, he will be a mortal and thusly we can slay him.”

“Nice!” Sivlander said as he glanced around the room. “Now how do we open up the eye of Azern.”

“The eye of Azern must be opened by doing some kind of ritual, but it’s not detailed in the staff,” Samir replied. “I wouldn’t know where to go.”

“Forty-five minutes left, my friends,” Trefor warned.

Sivlander glanced up at the clock to see that there was indeed only 45 minutes left for them to defeat the dragon. This wasn’t looking good.

“Alright, well, maybe we can ask the lady npc,” Germane said as he approached the npc and activated her dialogue.

“Thank you for freeing me but the great Wyrm still stirs!” the npc replied. “The only way to get to the monster is to activate the Eye of Azern. I overheard the terrible cultists talking about the ritual to open the pathway. You must take the staff, a pot of boiling water, and the ritual knife, then bring them to the altar. Then when you place all of these items upon the altar, it will open the way. But be warned! For the Wyrm is fierce! While a dragon is a large and deadly beast, the Wyrm is far more fierce! A Wyrm is a dragon that rejected the natural order of life and sought to extend its power through supernatural means. Now it is a husk of a creature, not undead but not quite living. Ancient and horrible, through and through. You best be prepared before you activate the Eye for you will have no respite before it is time to fight the beast.”

“Well, gentlemen,” Trefor said, “it’s now or never. Either we all go down together in a glorious blaze of, uh, glory, or we bail now.”

“Is that a legitimate option?” Samir asked. “Because I vote for bailing.”

“That was a joke,” Sivlander said. “Let’s grab the stuff we need and go summon ourselves an undead Wyrm.”

“I don’t think it’s undead,” Trefor said. “She said it wasn’t undead and also not alive.”

“What does that even mean?” Germane asked as he walked over to one of the cauldrons of boiling water and grabbed a hold of it. “Wow, this is hot!”

“Come on; let’s get this show on the road,” Sivlander said as he glanced at the potion of Rage sitting in his inventory. At this point in the game, he would have to use it or else. “Guys,” he said, “I don’t want anyone holding back in this fight. If you’ve got limited-use items like a potion or a scroll, use it. We didn’t come all of this way just to waste our time.”

“So you’re meaning to tell us that we should use all of our hard-earned gear to win this quest?” Germane asked. “Even our potions?”

“Our Potion of Rage that we’ve kept in our bags for a long, long time?” Trefor ribbed.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Sivlander replied. “Yes, I’m going to be drinking that potion. I’ve been keeping it for a special occasion and this is that special occasion. Are you guys ready for this?”

“More ready I’ll never be!” Samir said as they reached the altar.

Sivlander gagged a little as a terrible smell overwhelmed him. The entire area was covered in blood and it smelled atrocious. It was so bad that he felt like vomiting in real life. “Man, what happened in here?”

“Their horrible blood sacrifice monster attacked us and promptly exploded when Trefor critted it,” Samir said. “You missed the terribleness of the entire thing.”

“I’m kind of glad,” Sivlander said as he dropped the knife on the sacrificial altar. He grabbed the potion from his bag and prepared to drink it. The moment he saw an angry, evil monster coming to devour them, he’d swig the whole thing down and go into a blood frenzy.

“Here goes nothing,” Germane said as he put the pot down. There was a loud rumbling from the ground.

“Okay, team, get ready for some violence,” Trefor said as he held his sword up high. Samir walked up and placed the scepter in a small hole that was in the altar. As the scepter slid in, there was a loud click followed by a deep, booming voice.

“To those who enter into the home of the Great Wyrm of Azern, know this! I, the powerful and ancient wizard Azern, once sealed him off because he was too powerful,” the voice boomed.

“Oh, that makes sense. That’s why everything is named after Azern. He was a wizard,” Samir said.

“Gee, you think?” Germane replied.

“And now you, having gathered the three components, are able to unlock the pathway to the terrible beast. For once every six months, this creature becomes mortal due to an ancient fluctuation in the magical spheres. Go now! Go and slay the beast, for if you can do what I, an all-powerful wizard could not, then you will become the new champions of the realm and all will see your glory! For there are forces greater than I watching you even as we speak!”

“You hear that, Trefor?” Sivlander said as the ground began to shake even more violently. “Draco is definitely watching us!”

“Then they’re gonna watch us win this thing!” Trefor replied. The ground continued to rumble until suddenly the entire chamber was falling apart around them. The floor split open and the four found themselves falling into darkness.

“Alright, this is it!” Sivlander said as he checked his timer. “We have 30 minutes before everything is over! We’ve got to give everything we’ve got to this terrible Wyrm or we’re going to be kicked out of the game!”

“You got it, boss!” Germane shouted as he extended his shield in midair. He spun around and placed the shield underneath him, allowing him to surf down to safety without taking any damage.

The rest of the team drank potions of Soft Falling, allowing them to touch the ground without a single injury.

They were on top of a large island surrounded by more lava. There were dozens of lavafalls pouring from the sides of the underground cave and Sivlander could see that there was nothing around them except for a few rocks. This would be a real test of character. Without any cover or places to tactically retreat, the Great Wyrm would be able to make a sport out of killing them. Sivlander gripped his sword and potion and took a deep breath. It was go time.

“There!” Trefor shouted as he pointed to the south side of the island. There was a large bubble of magma that was growing by the second. Lava poured off of the sides of an enormous dragon head as the creature emerged from glowing red and yellow liquid.

“You have come into the chambers of the Great Wyrm!” the dragon bellowed as it slowly climbed onto land. Magma was dripping all over it, but the creature wasn’t taking any damage

“Great, well I guess it’s immune to all of my fire spells,” Samir complained.

“Yeah, because everyone knows that dragons definitely don’t breathe fire,” Trefor replied.

“Some dragons don’t,” Germane said. “I fought a dragon that breathed acid once.”

“I’m pretty sure you were fighting a regular dragon while on acid,” Trefor corrected.

“That might have been it, too,” Germane replied.

Sivlander ignored the chatter and kept his sword at the ready. The dragon would be coming for them any minute now. Its name was still grey so until it finished its dialogue it would be immune to attacks and damage.

“Buff up now, gentlemen!” Sivlander shouted as the dragon continued speaking.

“Those who come here usually beg and mewl before me, seeking me to bless them. Their prayers are weak and feeble for I am no god, for what kind of god would devour his own followers so helplessly? I once profaned the almighty creators who saw my boasts as shameful and they sent a human wizard to put me in my place. Now I wait for a chance every six months to be free from this prison. Do you seek to kill me? Or to free me? You are not here to worship me, of course, for you are adventurers. You have the mettle and the might to break the spell that contains me. What say you?”

We’re here to slay you, evil Wyrm! What kind of gold are we talking about for helping you? I’d say go to hell, but you’re kinda already there.

“Let’s do this!” Trefor shouted as Van selected option 1. The Wyrm reared its head back and laughed.

“They could not slay me when I was stomping around on the material planes, and now you think that you have the power to slay me here? I have only grown stronger from my time of waiting. Oh well, if it’s a fight that you want, it’s a fight you shall have.”