A Path Lit Only By Fire 

Dragons are fire, and fire burns, consumes, ravages. Dragons cannot be killed by ill fortune or mortal heart. Only a fool becomes a dragonslayer.

But is one born with foolhearted courage, or does life inflict it thereupon? Why does Avari dare call herself a dragonslayer?

Her party doesn’t care; they care that she strikes down monsters with berserker strength, wielding a sword enchanted to bring death to all it cuts. She could carry them all into legend.

So they don’t refuse when she demands to face a dragon. Perhaps her sword can do what no other blade can.

If hope springs eternal, then the foolish heart is an immortal one.

Teaser 

The dragonslayer Avari tore through the wutherwolf. When her blade, Sabletongue, sliced through space, it didn’t cut, it divided. Not simply the sundering of two halves, but a line drawn: life before it, and death after.

The wolf yapped fearsomely, and all the air around resonated. Behind her, familiar voices cried from ear‍-​rending pain. An archer shouted her to get down; and like the yapping, she ignored it. Her eyes and mind honed themselves toward one end.

Long white fur grasped winds like a child clinging to a toy. Even as arrows after arrow is shot, all slid off. Air itself favored the beast; it floated.

A pack of these things could howl like mountain gales, but this pack lay dead still. Fur no longer clinging to air, no longer bristling or fluffed, they would look drenched, even without the blood.

Alone now, barks unanswered, did it mourn? Was it loss or mere fear in its eyes? Only pain, Avari decided.

Gouts of blood gushed from a new stump, foreleg tore off by sabletongue. Already the leg lost its airy volume as it tumbled like a fallen branch.

Avari twisted rather than cut another limb. She twisted up, edge carving into the breast even as the wutherwolf cried its pain. Muscled legs thrusted her forward, weight and might turning her swing to into piercing finality.

The black tip emerged out the other side of the wolf. Sabletonge simply divided. Even when impaling, a line is drawn along the edge. Once drawn through the beast, even penetrating only lungs, it falls limp and souless. Life before, death after.

As she withdrew her oldest tool with a wet swish, you could miss the blood on the black obsidian of the sword. But along the length shone bright veins, the color of white hot fire, frozen and bound within a black shell.

She’d known Sabletongue since before her arms were thicker than its blade. Before she had anyone else, nor any solidity, any strength. When Avri first held it ten years ago, she knew at once that it was her.

Her first and deepest guide has been to render that truth reciprocal.

And what ambition forged a sword? To vanquish. How else, then, to crown this a queen of swords but the slay a queen of life itself?

You become a dragonslayer not in the fruition, but the attempt. None in this land can boast more right than that, if the title should be borne at all.

Cast 

Avari, the berserker 

Standing taller than anyone else in the party, Avari catches the eye first. At a glance, the cords of muscle curled tense around her limbs speak of might enough to crush grown men. Outside of battle, though, she wears a cloak, her figure revealed in no more than fleeting glimpses.

Implication is sufficient; with each step confidence pours from her, a woman bristling so much latent energy anyone’s first thought is how easily it might turn on them, and how easily they’d be destroyed. When you meet her gaze, one look in those intense white eyes says that’s her first thought, too.

But there’s a blankness there, too. The intimidation consumes her features, and most avert their eyes; those who don’t can peer deeper, but fail to discern any depth to her thoughts than violence. Perhaps there is none.

Eweisel, the mage 

A squat and pale man, Eweisel doesn’t wear gloves or shoes. His fingers are near‍-​black with curse‍-​scars, the shape alone suggests the wands so often held. His feet are calloused hard beneath muscles calves, his legs used to running. Green eyes sweep every room with the line by line regularity of one more used to reading books. Thin lips greet the world with all the mirth of one used to smiling.

So much of his outfit is cobbled together‍ ‍—‍ Ina’s old robes, Jona’s old hat, Melodi’s old pants. All the enchanted rings around his fingers were once Zeke’s scores. And the still‍-​bleeding scar around his neck was once Hadrians’ destined death, stolen and spellbound.

Ina, the healer 

You’d hear her before you’d see her; healers know how to stay out of the line of fire, out of sight. Her voice is a cracked and ragged thing, burnt by the pipes she smokes. Long blonde hair is tied secure, as are the wide sleeves of her green robes, as are the sheaths of her knifes. All three ready to be loosened when it’s time relax.

There’s bags under her eyes and a tremor in her limbs; sleep so often is substituted with the energy that can be grinded up burnt in a pipe. She has three books at easy notice: a bestiary, a bountybook, and a person journal. The journal’s contents are sparse, just an obituary and will ready go for every member of the party.

Hadrian, the knight 

When out of battle, Hadrian is out of armor, baring his chest at the first available opportunity. He’s not as tall as Avari nor as muscled, but since she wears a cloak, he strikes the more impressive figure. Half a dozen weapons sit strapped to his back. With the curl of his lips, half a dozen remarks are poised to be delivered: jokes and accolades for his party members, and taunts for his enemies.

Jona, the ranger 

There’s a sparse, utilitarian cast to Jona’s attire, clad in gameson, bow and quiver at his back, every necessary tool and protection ready and sufficient. His hair is short (bald, once, before Hadrian’s wisecracks about his dome grew intolerable), and his beard is trimmed enough not to get in the way of eating. Getting rid of all of it every day is a losing battle.

He has a falconer’s glove, and a bird trained to follow commands; a sharp‍-​eyed formel the size of his head, ringed with red feathers. She’s animated, her head turning constantly, keeping attentive eye on everything, in contrast to her master’s aloof regard‍ ‍—‍ one eye behind an eyepatch, the other oft half‍-​closed. She reacts to speech with idle clicks and calls.

All this leads some to wonder, if only as a joke, who is really in charge. And it’s not a truly misplaced guess‍ ‍—‍ the falcon is an soul‍-​extension of Jona, enchanted to share his sight. With only one eye, how else could he line up accurate shots?

Zeke, the sneak 

You notice many things about Zeke first. His clothes, finely tailored and colorful with rare dyes; his face, always washed clean and painted beautifully; his body, held with a relaxed posture or moving with slow, easy movement. He has the voice of a singer, and those careful pitches are there even when speaking casually. There’s an earnestness in his eyes, and with the dignity his exudes, the admiration he inspires, even a few smooth and sensible words exchanged is enough for most to meet his smile with another and nod in consideration.

The last thing you think about Zeke is what his hand are doing, and where you coinpurse is.

Melodi, the bard 

Does Melodi belong anywhere near a battlefield? Her thin arms look like they might snap picking up anything heavier than a bucket of water, and her attire is as a rule, frilled dresses and ribbons without a weapon in sight. // more

A snake with scales like rubies and sapphies curls around her snake, enchanted to strike any danger that comes close

• Look: dark skin, blue eyes, frail build, shortest

Gloria, the dragon 

? 

// note to self: rewrite the above mini‍-​scene reference each of her party members.

// random note: discover engravings in the dragon’s lair telling their life story? extra avenue of injecting derg characterization

For each, should establish:

• what they want
• first met avari
• coolest thing she’s done imo
• foolish thing she’s done imo
• what she told them the night before

The healer wants to kill monsters. She’s watched monsters kill so many, and yet her innate talent is mending flesh. She burnt out, needs to retire, driven only by spite. She hates mindless beasts.

“They cling to life just as men do,” Avari points out.

“Pointless lives, built on savagery.”

Avari smiles. “You are still speaking of men.”

“Have you never mourned, berserker? I’ve seen love, wisdom, and civilization bring light to the eyes of beautiful people, and watched monsters snuff that to ashes. A monster can never know that loss.”

“Do you envy them?”

“Of course not!”

“They have freedom and might. You lack both.”

The warden wants to hang out, goes along with whatever

The ranger just wants money (for all of them)

The thief wants fame

The bard want in Avari’s pants

Actual Outline/Brainstorming 

idea is besides our berserker protag, there’s six party members, right. and you might wonder, what do these characters have in common? what brought them to the adventuring life and keeps them there? the basic concepts for them is

• the mage just wants to save people. he’s willing to fight monsters if he must, but he’d rather study them & understand the best way to achieve peace. wouldn’t it be great if the world didn’t need adventurers at all, one day?
• the healer just wants to kill monsters. she fuckin hates them. she’s watched monsters kill so many, but her innate talent is restoration. so she’s burnt out, driven by a kind of spite, but is honestly considering retiring
• the knight wants to hang with his bros, he loves the camaraderie, and does goes along with whatever. he’ll lay down his life to protect them, but mostly does the monster slaying stuff cuz that’s what everyone else wants to do.
• the ranger is just in it for the money. but he’s not selfish, he wants all of his friends to get rich. then they can retire to a manor somewhere. instead of shooting arrows at monsters, he’d rather hunt game like some rich noble
• the sneak‍-​thief ironically wants to be famous, someone people will never forget. he sticks with this crew through thick and thin because he’s sure it’s his ticket to greatness, but he feels like an imposter. is he really carrying his weight? does he deserve recognition? so he ducks his head and sticks to the shadows.
• the bard just wants in avari pant’s :lesbianthoughts:. she’s kind of a joke? she has a magical harmonica that can cast influence over any human, which is a bit useless because they fight inhuman monsters, and it can can only play pentatonic scales anyway, so it’s basically only capable of bright and cheery inspiration, nothing intense or dark. she has some illusory smoke and stage magic maybe, but she’s the weakest of the party by a mile. Avari only keeps her around because she likes the music

Anway, basically, it seems like simple action adventure story at first, right, but as it goes on this quest seems increasingly odd. the important beats are like

Act 1 

so it turns out the dragon they’re hunting… hasn’t done anything? no villages burned or livestock killed or anything to object to really. avari is just like, we gotta kill it before it does something bad

oh, did i say ‘mage’? y’know, the guy with the big spells to ward or go nova? y’know, the exact thing you’d want if you’re facing down an apex monster? yeah uh, he’s not coming with us. (the ranger comments on how unexpected this is, given who pitched this quest‍ ‍—‍ avari and the mage were so close you’d think they were fuckin in the bedrolls)

the first encounter goes wrong, badly wrong, and the healer dies. and you know, that also seems pretty important for our survival. maybe we should turn back? but no, avari insists we go on ahead. but why is she so determined about this?

• you see, one of avari’s motivations for adventuring had been to prove her strength and gain recognition. she had always looked up to the king as the apex of that, a figure of strength and justice, so she fights monsters hoping to one day earn royal respect, perhaps even an audience with the king.
• except the king died shortly before they set off on this adventure. avari was terribly depressed afterward. all of her stiving, dashed right on the cusp of attaining it. you can view the dragonslaying as the only way for avari to gain the renown with the death of her idol (the prince is but a foolish child, she cares not for him).
• (but the healer wonders if this is something deeper, darker than that. does avari even care if she succeeds‍ ‍—‍ was this just a suicide quest?)
• but midway into the quest, it turns out that nope, avari did get the recognition she craved! she presents a missive signed by the king himself, proposing a quest for the party to retrieve an artifact that once belonged to the royal bloodline. (scrying of royal mages proved it to be part of the dragon’s hoard.)

climbing up the mountain, they see some pretty dangerous monsters, and maybe they should detour or wait or do something to avoid the obvious peril, but avari charges in recklessly. in the ensuing scuffle, the knight receives a fatal blow and the healer isn’t there to save him.

Act 2 

as they make camp, ranger & thief are getting really cold feet. maybe we should call this adventure off. they try to convince avari. they have to convince her, actually, because with the knight dead and the mountains teeming with monsters, they kind of dont stand a chance on the return trip unless they have avari to protect them.

• avari still refuses to call off the adventure. ranger is like, bro, why is this so important to you? and avari reveals that it’s personal‍ ‍—‍ she had a hard life in a cruel city as an orphan, because a dragon killed her mother. ranger is like ok cool, but i still don’t wanna die. i’m leaving anyway. but avari won’t let them leave; she wants to maximize her chances of success. and the ranger can’t beat avari, so it’s coercion
• Worse, when push comes to shove, the thief sides with avari. The ranger goes to sleep horrible riddled with suspicion. What was wrong with this quest? Why did party members keep dying? Was it a curse? In paranoiad throes near sleep, the ranger remembers that before the thief joined their party, they’d been an assassin.

in the morning, they discover the ranger is gone. they search, and find his body‍ ‍—‍ he had tried to flee in the night, and monsters got to him.

in another monster encounter, avari is running in to solo them, serving as a distraction while the thief sneaks around for a backstab. oddly, he insists the bard come with him. it’s here, in this moment of privacy, that the thief reveals that avari lied. in the end, she did get a personal, private audience with the king. and her meeting put her in such a rage that she killed the king and came to the thief to hide the body using his past expertise as an assassin.

• perhaps this quest serves as cover. throwing off suspicion by executing the king’s will, performing a great service to the royal bloodline. and who would dare charge dragonslayers with treason? So maybe the reason avari is so desperate to do this is because it’s her only chance to salvage her reputation.
• but the thief has begun to suspect she’s committed a deeper betrayal. if avari was willing to kill the king, the idol she’d looked up to for her whole life, who else would she kill? and suddenly, all the interactions until now look different in light of the insight that avari can’t stand any of her party members.
• more than that, when you think hard about how each of the party members dies, it’s all avari’s fault. some of this was already clear, but now it doesn’t seem like reckless incompetence, but malice. letting the healer die first meant every death became that much more inevitable.
• (more than that, the party members are killed in order of how much they’d distrust avari; the healer always thought there was something wrong with avari, the knight was loyal to his bros and kind of saw her as a rival, the ranger prizes money and survival over all else. all who’s left is her admirer and someone who’d hide a king’s body for her.)
• but of course it’s a little too late to realize this, since they are in the depths of the dungeon, and out of all the party members, the thief and bard are by far the most Not Built For This. their lives are in avari’s hands. but the thief starts plotting something they could do. they’re so weak they could probably sneak out under the monster’s noses. perhaps the bard’s magic could bewitch or lullabye avari?

Act 3 

but the bard understands avari better than him, and puts together the last the piece. a question that had been open from the beginning: why wasn’t the mage here? and here’s the answer. avari must have asked him to stay out of this, because of the entire party, he was the only one avari cared about and wanted to live.

• a soul‍-​crushing thing to realize, given her unrequited love, but if survival is tied to how much avari likes you, then the bard knows exactly what she has to do. she goes to avari and reveals the thief’s mutiny plan.
• it pissed avari off. now, it’s obvious she’s going to kill him for this. but how? she huffs, inhales deep, and then breathes a gout of fire, turing him to ash and cinder.
• that’s right. a dragon killed her mother, but why had that woman been so close to a dragon in the first place? avari finally takes off her cloak, revealing her flesh is riddled with scales, growing like a rash. The truth: avari is half‍-​dragon.

the bard of course still wants to fuck the dragon. she accepts avari’s monstrousness, and gets on her knees, begging to live. avari rolls her eyes at the pathetic display, and tells her to get up. they still have a quest to complete.

• but uh, what exactly is the quest? everything’s getting thrown into question. then avari smirks, and decides to make it a test. if the bard can figure out what avari’s motivation is, then the berserker will let her live.
• why kill the king, then every one of her party members? what motive unites all this? the bard wracks her brain as they descended toward the sweltering heat of the derg’s lair.
• and the bard hits on something. what did all them have in common? or rather, what made the exception different? the bard asks avari whether she killed the mage before they left, and avari confirms she did not. and the one thing that defined the mage was kindness. he wanted to save people from peril, help them, empower them. by contrast, the king gave them a mission to kill a dragon that had done nothing wrong, for no purpose than adding property to the king’s hoard. and everyone in the party agreed to it without question.

and that’s the bard’s answer. avari was good, kinder at heart than anyone else. adventurers claim to save people, but really they’re just butchers. avari did all this to be a true adventurer, saving even the dragon. dragons are people too, and avari is walking proof of that!

• so the bard is on her knees again (gee, she really likes getting on her knees for avari), and says sorry. sorry none of us were good adventurers, and sorry we willing to do terrible things with a good reason. but i love you, avari, and i’ll save monsters with you.
• avari laughs, and kicks the bard over, planting a foot on her chest.
• (fearing for her life, the bard reaches for her harmonica, desperately plays a little tune. avari loved her music, it was the reason she kept her around. and her inspiration magic could influence any human heart‍ ‍—‍ but avari wasn’t human anymore)
• avari says, i might’ve hated you most of all, but i can’t, because there’s so little to hate. you’re so weak and empty. you admire strength without understanding it. Last question: what is strength for?
• “helping people,” the bard coughs
• i thought so too. i grew up miserably poor. i saw thought the king was the strongest, and i thought if i could talk to him, get on my knees and beg, he’d use that that strength to help miserable kids like i had been. but he didn’t care to, gave me bullshit excuses. it pissed me off, so i killed him. i was stronger than a king, in the end.
• the bard begs avari to help her understand her strength. please. anything. so avari indulges it. by now the scales cover her face, and her fangs and claws have come in. so avari bites and tears and drinks the bard’s blood. it’s very yuri, and the bard dies. (or maybe it’s more fitting for them to kiss, and avari to breathe fire in her, filling her with her hot magical essence to consume her from within. or maybe both lmao)

Finally, at the very end, we get a avari pov again, and she’s a lot less sure in her convictions than she looked from the bard’s pov. she’s thinking thoughts like: what can i even do with strength greater than a king? where do i put it, how to i bend my muscles, to do the greatest things i can? all this sword is good for is killing. but maybe that’s strength at its purest, and kindness is weakness. killing the bard felt good, after all, and that was nothing but indulgent destruction. all of the other deaths were necessary, instrumental to her plans, but she crushed the bard simply because she could.

avari faces the dragon alone. i dunno if there should be a big climatic fight, or maybe instead avari gives the dragon her enchanted sword as a gift to expand the hoard. ultimately the key point is the avari comes to this dragon essentially as a student, asking to truly understand her new draconic strength. and part of her is desperate to know, how a dragon could love her mother enough to have a child with her, yet in the end kill her.

the dragon growls and a laugh, and explains that dragon love is a fire, and it always eventually consumes one partner, reducing them to ashes. and maybe avari’s thinks something like: so is love an expression of strength, then? and then it suddenly hits her that killing the bard felt different, not because the other deaths were “necessary”, but because she loved the bard. and she’s suddenly struck with a sense of loss, a taste of ash. if there was an atom of humanity left in her, it mourned the loss of her tragically requited love

so to the derg she’s like if i choose to love you, will you last longer than a human? and the derg’s just like, are you strong enough for my love? and maybe this is where the fight happens. maybe it’s more of a dance. avari proves herself, and the dragon accepts her, understands her. they stare into each other’s slitted eyes. to avari it’s like a mirror, and she feels the joy of finally meeting someone like her. they lean in for a hot fire‍-​kiss

…and avari drives her vorpal blade into the roof of the dragon’s mouth, killing the beast. it’s like looking into a mirror‍ ‍—‍ and in that mirror avari only saw the monster that had killed the bard. at last, she was a dragonslayer.

last scene bit might be avari letting herself transform totally into a scaly beast, her draconic nature burning away the last of her humanity. the note the story closes on could be avari remembering the mage. he always wanted to study dragons, to understand them. avari wants to fly out now and find him. let him finally understand dragons and their strength. let someone finally understand her

What about second outline? 

Prologue (Avari pov) 

Chapter 1 (Healer pov) 

Location: base of the mountain

Chapter 2 (Knight pov) 

Climbing the mountain

Chapter 3 (Ranger pov) 

Mouth of the cave entrance

Chapter 4 (Thief pov) 

Depths of the cavern

Chapter 5 (Bard pov) 

Entrance to the lair

Finale (Avari pov)