The thing exploded from beneath the piles of gold. Coins showered down on Mustafa as he looked in disbelief upon the undead horror in front of him. A dragon?! A mummified fucking dragon?! The pit fighter staggered back as the ancient husk flapped dried, dusty wings and, impossibly, rose off the ground.
Mustafa could hear his friends shouting around him, but the words were drowned out by his fear. Hovering above them, the dead god Tukanem-Hanam opened its terrible jaws wide. For a second, he heard a dry, croaking hiss. And then the lightning came. The air crackled with pain, and Mustafa felt himself fly through the air. He crashed to the ground. Around him, his allies and recent enemies lay crumpled in heaps. He looked down at his limbs. The skin on his arms was red, and blisters welled to the surface. Mustafa spat blood before dragging himself to his feet.
Above the dragon slowly banked, returning for another attack. Mustafa yanked a vial from the bandolier across his chest and downed its contents. Father Zasotran’s elixir burned his throat, and he immediately felt the strange, slightly painful swelling. Those around him grew slightly smaller in his eyes. He felt his strength grow.
The dragon was returning, swooping down on him, on all them. Now standing twelve feet tall and weighing nearly twelve hundred pounds, Mustafa grinned at the abomination hurtling towards him.
“Come on, you old bastard. Come and try to kill the Fist.”
(+ 1 skill point: 6th level)
Genie Wars part I: The Legacy of Fire