Oathenor 4

As the dragon flexes its shining metal neck and smiles tauntingly, the ground next to Splinder flexes. Out of it emerges a large stone drake of some sort. It looks like a gargoyle carving of a true dragon, eight feet long and roughly carved. Agar immediately recognizes it for what it truly is. "Earth elemental!" he yells. Then another half dozen rise from the ground, and he lamely appends, "Err a lot of them." The elementals attack, sweeping through some of the dwarven shock troops with their heavy stone fists. Dwarves fly sideways, one of them dropping.

Splinder swings back his axe and says something unpronounceable. A massive bolt of chain lightning starts at the tip of his axe and sears into the dragon. Much of the electricity is carried away harmlessly along the metal skin, but enough bounces away to form a bolt that riccochets from one elemental to another. As the stone outsiders stop sparking and arcing, Splinder pulls back his axe and begins hewing. Chunks of rock begin to fly.

As Agar locks a dimensional anchor on the dragon, Nolin casts another mass haste for Mara and many of the dwarves, inspiring them as well by singing a triumphant dwarven battle song. The dwarves pick up the tune, singing and stomping along as they face the monster.

Malachite flies forward with Karthos out. The dragon tries to shift towards him but is simply too slow, and the dwarves assigned to Malachite hamper its defense. The holy sword slashes at the huge rock-like scales, sending up sparks and flashes of light as it hits. Oathenor roars in pain, although its side is less damaged than Malachite would have expected.

"We need to do something about all those spells," worries Velendo. With a prayer to his God, he casts a greater dispelling. The prayer takes visible form as it surrounds the wyrm – and suddenly Oathenor becomes slower, weaker, and much more clumsy. The dragon thumps to the floor as its fly spell is terminated. Velendo's true seeing reveals that many of Oathenor's protective spells have fallen as well. Unfortunately, iron body and a few other spells have survived the dispelling attempt, indicating that they're extremely powerful.

Tao eyes Mara, but sees that she has her magical shockwave flail hanging from her belt. The divine agent backs away from the dragon. Her eyes roll up in her head, and she uses her helm's clairvoyance power to look inside the dragon. She scans for the shining mace that was just eaten, but can't see it.

The room is now a chaotic mass of heroes, dwarven assistants aiding them, earth elementals and rubble, all overlooked by the dragon's glistening neck and head. Oathenor slithers a bit farther down from into the room. It knows its battle tactics. It learned them over centuries of difficult fights: use the elementals as distractions. Kill the holy men first, so they can't heal the others. Kill the wizards second, while the fighters pound on the metal skin in vain. Then finish up the rest and hunt down survivors. With this in mind, Oathenor eyes Velendo and licks its lips with a metal tongue. Strange enchantment on him, thinks the dragon as its head and claws snap forward. Wonder what it tastes like?

Turns out, it tastes like pain.

Velendo has cast his unique spell wallbuilder's retribution. It delivers as much damage to Oathenor as the dragon inflicts on Velendo, and the old cleric only takes half damage. After a good, solid bite, Oathenor yanks its head back in scarlet agony. The wyrm uses its remaining attacks to jerk Karthos from Malachite's grasp, battering the paladins with its wings as it does so. Oathenor tosses this weapon down its throat as well, and Karthos' voice trails off as the dragon's jaws snap shut. Oathenor then uses its other claw to yank away Splinder's greataxe. It dangles the axe over the dwarf's head, tantilizingly just out of reach.

Unfortunately, Splinder was never one for jumping, and he hates being taunted. The dwarf swears violently in his native tongue, blistering the air as he tries to reach his weapon. An elemental clubs him on the side of the head, and Splinder glares at the thing as he still tries to reach his dangled axe.

"CARE TO SCRATCH AT ME WITH A DAGGER, MEAT?" The dragon surveys the chaotic melee and eyes the old man uncertainly. Perhaps it would just be best to wall him off from the fight and deal with him afterwards? He also notices the deep gnome scurrying about, but discounts him as a cringing lackey. At least the fighters were under control, effectively helpless without their weapons. Now, for the wizard....

Mara smiles, her teeth white in the gloom. "I can think of something better." She casts dispel evil. It's a simple matter to touch the immense dragon, and it screams as holy energy courses through its body, burning away its powerful elemental magic. The iron skin ripples away to scale and flesh. Then she hammers it, hard, with her flail. It flinches in pain, and the sight is its own reward.

"There we go," sighs Priggle philosophically, who has somehow worked himself around behind the dragon without anyone really noticing. "Now I've got something to work with. Not that anyone is ever going to thank me." Standing where no one else can see him, he buries his gnomish pick into the dragon's back. The dragon opens its wide mouth to roar in pain. Priggle pulls his pick out, noticing that he struck a vital organ. For good measure, he swings twice more at the same spot. Acidic blood spurts as his pick does fearsome amounts of damage. He faintly hears Nolin cheer "Go, Priggle!", and in spite of himself the deep gnome smiles slightly at the recognition.

Galthia also takes advantage of the change in the dragon's skin. Previously, his fists had bounced off the living metal. Now, focused ki drive them deep into the dragon's wounded side. They still miss more than they hit, but this time the dragon feels the pain that Galthia inflicts.

Tao is still trying to see inside of its stomach with her magic, and she suddenly catches a glimpse of shining light. "Aha!" she announces triumphantly. She flexes her gauntlet of retrieval that she took from the githyanki mercenaries in the Astral plane, and Lightbinder appears in her hands, psionically teleported. "Mara?" She tosses the mace to the blond paladin, who thanks her politely.

Malachite is staring up at the furious dragon, and he tries to retrieve his weapon by activating its natural tendency to jump short distances into his hand. Nothing happens, of course; a dragon's belly is not a sheath. Then from behind him he hears Agar's voice. "I wish that whatever Malachite's trying to do right now succeeds!" Oathenor's fleshy stomach roils as Karthos rips itself free and tumbles out of the huge mouth, landing smoothly in Malachite's hand.

"I missed you," Karthos comments in a metallic voice.

"Likewise."

They attack, and Oathenor returns the favor, forgetting about Agar and concentrating all of its fury on the one target. It flings Splinder's axe aside as it does so, and the dwarf goes scrambling after it.

Spells are now raining in from all sides, spells too powerful to all be blocked by spell resistance. Nolin drops two consecutive flame strikes on its broad back. Galthia and Tao and Malachite and Mara and Priggle, along with countless dwarven distractions, surround it. The elementals aren't holding their ground, and Splinder takes out one even as Nolin uses healing circle to strengthen the dwarven troops. Oathenor tries to find a place to put a wall of stone, but the room is too crowded, and the wall must be unbroken. He tries to breath acid, but his breath weapon has not regenerated yet from the iron body. The dragon tries to back up into a better tactical position, but isn't quick enough, and it staggers as Malachite's sword cuts into him again. Galthia's fists shatter a scale and drive the ragged edges into the soft flesh underneath. Mara follows his blows with several of her own, and Oathenor slumps backwards bleeding from a dozen or more wounds, unable to recover the advantage. "We've got him!" someone screams in triumph. Velendo fires a searing light into Oathenor's head, and everyone cheers as it burns right through the skull and out the other side.

Then there's a flash of light from one of its claws. For a few seconds, a magical ring glows brightly, and a wave of corruscating yellow light flows up and down its body. And when the light fades, the dragon is wholly healed.

Nolin's voice is quiet. "Oh, crap."