Olaf Hits the Dragon with His Sword
Back in October my friend @unrepentantauthor and I played a round of @prokopetz's mini-RPG Olaf Hits the Dragon with His Sword. Today I noticed that every post about the game was made by someone playing solo, so (with my friend's permission) I'm posting our game as an example of what it looks like as a back-and-forth between two people.
They played Olaf; I played the Dragon.
OLAF, why have you come?
I am a knight sworn to defend the innocent, and to strike down evil beasts for the wrongs they have committed. The dragon has slaughtered countless people, and must die for it, if not by my sword, then by the hand of some other brave warrior to come. Today, the task falls to me. For I am capable, and I am here.
(+IRON)
As for THE DRAGON, what is your nature?
You speak of wrongs committed, little knight, and I do not deny them. I have shed the blood of the innocent and the wicked alike, the blameless man and the murderer; it was my power to do this, for I have taken this land and named it mine, and now all things live under my dominion and fall to their knees at the whisper of my presence. You are not the first knight to come here, seeking glory and heroism, speaking of the grief and pain I have caused; you are not the first knight whose bones will find their resting place in my hoard.
You name me DRAGON, O little knight who comes in iron, who seeks for vengeance and names it justice, but I name myself DEATH, I name myself DESTROYER, I name myself END OF ALL.
(+DEATH)
OLAF approaches THE DRAGON's lair.
If I must add my bones to your horde, so be it. I have shed blood every month of my life in service of my principles and my quests, and I have lost many precious things already. I have lost wealth to bad fortune. I have lost friends to irreconcilable faith. I have lost the best years of my youth to hard training. And I have lost finger, eye, and foot to past combats. Yet I have still more to give. I do not fear losing my life today.
(+SORROW)
THE DRAGON responds:
You do not fear death, and you believe you have the capability to vanquish me? What good is that iron shell of armour when the creature inside it has already halfway to death, having abandoned himself so to sorrow and sacrifice? You are weak, you little knight, you little fool, you pitiful thing with nothing to live for.
There is no justice in the iron of your sword; there is only death, yours or mine, and the foolishness of a man who has willingly abandoned so much. Your strength will one day come to an end, and when that day comes you will have nothing remaining to you.
You can never regain what you have lost. Lay down your sword, foolish knight. Melt down your armour and forge of its iron the shovel, the hoe, the plough. Abandon this futile endeavour.
(+IRON)
OLAF speaks:
I am confident in my steady hand, my keen eye, and my stalwart heart. I have slain monsters, and the prices I have paid are but costs, not failures. I may slay you today, and I would rather take my chance at doing so than retire to a profession of which I know nothing, to live out a life of vulnerability and humility. I will not expose myself to your predations, O Wyrm. I will do as I have done many times before, and shed your blood in service of my cause. I will be a credit to the name 'knight'.
(+AMBITION)
THE DRAGON responds:
It will be naught but the highest of honours, then, to be slain by such a man. I call it a great flattery, to know you hold my death so high in your esteem! A credit to the name of knight! A beast which slaughters in service of its cause, so accomplished in violence that it can conceive of naught else, who aspires so dearly to end life that it can never dream of creating something new.
How much blood is on your hands, knight? How many lives have you already ended? If I am to die then I go knowing it is at the hands of a dealer in death as great and terrible as I myself was in my prime.
(+AMBITION)
OLAF speaks:
How telling of your nature, that you should compare your slaughter to my vengeance. Do you truly see no difference between wanton and indiscriminate killing of the innocent, and the sanctioned ending of a violent life to prevent further suffering? Do not seek to make me doubt my just cause, when I have seen the ashes of the young and the bones of the meek left in your wake. Do not tell me of my bloodied hands when there is an ocean of blood in your maw. I will not waver. I will not stay my hand.
(+IRON)
THE DRAGON responds:
You are not the first to speak these words to me, knight, and I tell you now you shall not be the last. Look now upon my horde, these many suits of armour. See them battle-worn, once gleaming but gone now to rust and ruin, and know that within each of these iron shells lies a rotten sack of meat and bones, a thing which was once a man. I have been visited by more knights than you could ever count, though you may live a thousand years, and each of them came to me with your words in their mouth. They are long since forgotten, their stories untold and their names turned to dust. Yet I remain! I am the DRAGON, red and wrathful, greater than any; I have withstood armies, lain whole kingdoms to waste, outlived even the memories of those who aspired to destroy me. What are you compared to I, little knight, little morsel of meat whom I could end with the merest snap of my jaws.
I weary of this folly. Let us speak no more. Strike me down now, if you dare!
(+BLOOD)
OLAF HITS THE DRAGON WITH HIS SWORD
(roll: BLOOD 4, IRON 6 2 1, AMBITION 6 3, SORROW 2, DEATH 3. -1 IRON, -1 AMBITION. roll: BLOOD 1, IRON 5 3, AMBITION 3, SORROW 6, DEATH 5)
SORROW dominates. OLAF is left broken by his trials.
OLAF, speak of your wretchedness.
As I had known, but not allowed myself to fear, this was surely my final combat. I have sustained more wounds this day than any year of my life, and though I may yet survive, I will not live as I have done. My sword hand is lost, forever to remain in the belly of mine enemy. So too have I finally lost the courage that brought me here, poisoned to death by the words the DRAGON spoke to me ere I began our battle. This was my choice, but it is a choice I weep for. I am not only wounded, but old, and I shall be lucky to provide so much as an odd word of combat training to young squires, if I can even bring myself to do so. I am not yet dead, but I am diminished more by my survival than by any death the DRAGON could have given me.
DRAGON, speak of what comfort remains.
Olaf has lost both his sword hand and the unyielding courage which drove him forwards in his quest for justice. He is slower than he was, more hesitant, less certain, damaged in body and mind. He was not slain in battle, but he thinks his life is over all the same.
There is more to life than iron and death. There is grief and there is suffering. Olaf cannot stand to hear the songs written to commemorate his vanquishing of the dragon, and so when they are sung he listens instead to the laughter of children who no longer live in fear. He travels to villages the dragon had razed to the ground, and sees fresh green sprouts growing in what once was blasted wasteland. He wakes each night screaming, shuddering from nightmares, but there are gentle hands to sooth him and to hold him close.
