Adam had confidence. He had the legacy of a billion year empire burning in his blood. He had the great power of the world-ending conflagration at his disposal. His ancestors cried out for vengeance. Just as common roosters heralded the sun, he would be the herald to the end of the featherless bipeds that called themselves kings. He had-
His target stopped and turned. He had no chance to stop before he was caught on her horns. Earth became sky as he somersaulted over Nai and struck the ground. Shortly after came the potion, sinking past feathers and into his body, clouding his senses with tingling fog...
What followed was a storm of feathers.
His feathers! The bright plumes that he (and the hens) so treasured scattered in the wind.
He struggled to his feet, pushing past the paralytic brew surging through his veins. Plucked of plumage and pride, he forced his wings wide. All the enmity he had was brought forth, fire growing in the sky, the dull roar of magic filling the ears of those present. There was something dangerous about this one, something that suggested this would be more than a light toasting...
BONK!
Twin hammers crashed down from above, striking harder than any meteor could. The world spun before his eyes, and the spell above him tore apart like morning fog.
With one last, halfhearted cluck the dire rooster fell at last, stunned and twitching
Scion of the Tyrants - Dire Rooster Adam
DEFEATED
❰ -169 / 500 ❱
The massed hens slowed, their rage-filled clucks fading into confused murmuring. As if snapped out of a spell, they began to meander, some circling the half-plucked Adam, others pecking at the scattered feathers, and quite a few wandering in the vague direction of Protean Pastures. After the chaos of before, it's almost... peaceful.
...getting this chicken back to the farm is going to take some work.
Well, that was a fucking mess.
The barn hums with the sound of contained chicks. The hens linger in one of the hastily rebuilt pens, thoroughly distracted by a fearless faerin scattering handfuls of grain.
Adam stands alone, wings bound and head covered in a dark hood. A rope keeps him tied within a solitary pen, and while he scratches at the hood with his claws now and then, he shows no great desire to escape for now. Perhaps his sound defeat had been enough to shame him, or perhaps he's still suffering from his head injury.
Definitely going to need to put a hold on the roosters. Guess we'll have a lot of capons soon.
A large pot of stew boils over a flame outside. Unsurprisingly, its chicken stew, made with dire hen meat itself along with a variety of vegetables. The thick shreds of chicken are a little chewy, but it's as good a meat as any.
Gods only know how Adam learned magic of all things. Sure, we mixed in a bit of cockatri-
...ahem. Anyway. Enjoy the stew, everyone! You all definitely deserve it.
It's a lovely summer's evening in Solvale. Fireflies dance above the green to the song of crickets below. In the distance you can see the light of farmhouses. The air is humid, and the savory smell of stew wafts through the air, carrying the promise of a good meal.
More importantly, you're all finally getting
paid.
OOC - Postmortem
Hello everyone, and congratulations on your victory!
This was my first DM challenge, which made it a challenge for me as well. There was quite a bit of on-the-fly DMing happening, but... well, isn't that true of any DMing experience? I hope you all enjoyed the experience!
If you've got any feedback, feel free to poke me in discord, or via conversations here on the forum. If you'd rather stay anonymous, I've got a convenient little dropbox
here that you can make use of.
Until we meet again!
