Sweat dripped from the mighty dragonborn fighter’s brow and landed on one of his twin blades. The heat radiating from the surrounding landscape caused it to sizzle and evaporate instantly. He was growing weary, it was undeniable, but there was no time for rest.
How long have we been fighting? he wondered somberly. It felt like hours, but truly could not have been more than one. Still, it was proving to be a fierce battle. One that he feared he might not leave alive. As if to further cement his worries, a fireball came rushing at him. He rolled to the side and manage to escape the brunt of the blast. His shoulder, however, did not fully escape its range.

“Kriv!” One of his allies called out. It was the tiefling bard, peering anxiously through the smoke to make sure the dragonborn has not been too badly injured.
“I am fine, friend.” Kriv assured him. “Your concern is well received, but do not forget that the fire running through my veins burns just as hot as hers.” Kriv rose to his feet and gingerly felt his shoulder. The armor was still warm from the flame, but his scaly flesh was mostly fine. He thanked Bahamut it had been fire that hit him, and not something more lethal.

Kriv looked towards the sky and faced the behemoth they were fighting. Tiamat was her name – a beautiful title for a hideous creature. A corrupt and arrogant goddess with an enormous, wyvern-like body and five draconic heads. More terrifying than her visage was her abundant power. Each of her looming heads could produce a cone of elemental power unique to dragons and dragonborn both. Acid, lightning, poison, ice, and – of course – fire. The head responsible for the latter was staring back at Kriv and laughing. She still had a small stream of smoke escaping from her mouth, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before she let loose another.
Kriv lowered his gaze back towards the ground and searched for the rest of his group. The mage and paladin stood in a relatively hidden corner, releasing spells as quickly as they could. The barbarian lay bloodied on the ground, and the monk was furiously attacking one of Tiamat’s legs. It is time we end this.

“Bard, tend to our fallen brother,” Kriv instructed as he began to run towards the two spell-casters.
“Hey, I have a name you know!” the bard yelled back, annoyed. A lightning blast landed mere feet from where he stood, prompting him to jog towards the barbarian without further complaint.
Kriv reached the others quickly and without any further elemental blasts. “I have a plan,” he announced. “But I need help. Do you know any spells that can distract the beast?”
“Yeah, we should have a few. But there’s no way we can get all her heads,” the paladin replied.
“Just two should be sufficient. And it does not matter which you target.”
“You can count on us,” assured the mage.
“You have my thanks,” responded Kriv. “I must go to the others. Be ready to fire on my signal.”

Kriv worked his way to the bard and now-coherent barbarian and asked the same favor: pick a head and distract it. They both agreed to his request – the barbarian more enthusiastically than his counterpart. Finally, he worked his way over to the monk. Reaching him proved to be much more challenging than getting to the others. Kriv had to dodge multiple angry attacks – ice, acid, another fire shot – as well as slashing claws before he could get close enough to the monk to speak.
She was more reluctant than the others to agree. In part because she wore no armor to protect her from Tiamat’s blasts, but also because she did not fully trust the dragonborn. It was understandable, Kriv supposed. He was the newest member of their motley crew, after all, and the one with the most sordid past. Still, he knew in his heart that this plan could work, but only if everyone worked together.

“Please,” Kriv asked again, “I implore you to trust me. We can finish this. All of us, together.”
The monk sighed and punched Tiamat’s leg once more before turning towards him. “Fine,” she relented. “But don’t disappoint me.” And with that she made her way towards the only unclaimed head.
Kriv watched her walk away and smiled with relief. For a moment he truly believed she would refuse to help. No time to waste, he scolded himself and reached for the sword strapped to his back. He removed the blade from its sheath and began to slowly unwrap the extra layer of cloth protecting the blade. Or rather protecting me.
The Dragonslayer, as it was called, was a gift from the Elven Elders they had approached for help months ago. They had no warriors to spare for the battle, but they were able to loan out the powerful weapon.

“The blade calls for you,” one of the elves had told Kriv as she presented the sword. “She feels your blood, and your intent. Noble dragonborn rising up against wretched kin. She wants to aid in your quest.”
Having the Dragonslayer thrust upon him felt like a cruel joke at the time. Now, though, he understood what he and the sword were meant to do. Kriv looked around at his allies; they were all ready and waiting for his signal. He took a deep breath.

“Now!” he screamed, raising the Dragonslayer. The others cheered and began their attacks. The magic users began weaving their most intricate and eye-catching spells, and those without powers drew their bows. The heads did not react immediately, and Kriv felt his stomach sink. Had he put each one of his friends in individual lines of danger for nothing?
Finally, one by one, the heads gave in and began inching towards their respective attackers. They spit their respective dangers, but their opponents all managed to dodge out of the way. It was much easier to evade an attack when you didn’t have to fear another was about to hit from the side. Kriv pulled his eyes away from his comrades. There was something much more important he needed to focus on.

Kriv crept towards Tiamat’s side and waited, sword drawn. Up until now, she had kept her stomach – her weakest spot – close to the ground, making it unreachable. But as she stretched her necks closer to her targets, she forgot to protect herself. Slowly, slowly, her rear legs began to rise. And then her front legs arched forward as well. Finally, she was completely removed from the earth – her rage leaving her blind to her sudden lack of defense.

Now! Kriv commanded, this time to himself alone, and rushed beneath the massive dragon. He lifted the Dragonslayer high above his head and drew a long gash along Tiamat’s stomach, from one side to another. The monster screamed out in anguish, and whipped her heads all towards Kriv. It was too late to stop him now, though. He pulled the blade from her stomach and ran back underneath her body. The cut he made, the undoubtedly painful, would not finish the beast. He needed to strike her heart.

He ran towards the base of Tiamat’s heads while she flailed about wildly. He did not fear her attacks; he trusted his friends to protect him. When he found the wide, slightly protruding lump sitting a mere foot above his head, he knew he had found his mark. Kriv took a deep breath and plunged the Dragonslayer in and twisted the blade harshly. Tiamat’s shriek grew louder and louder as the flesh around the sword began bubbling. He backed away from the evil dragon triumphantly.
“It is done,” he announced to the rest of the team. He needn’t have bothered, however, as the decaying creature in front of them was evidence enough. In just minutes, the horrid beast that had caused the country so much suffering was reduced to ash.

Profile, character, and story by Calypso
Image by Etoli on deviantart, based on the Dragonborn class in Dungeons & Dragons, 5th edition