Into the Wasteland

I've never failed a job. And in this game, your reputation is worth your weight in gold. Or in my case, platinum. Pocketing the reward after a successful mission is always a good feeling, but my reputation will keep me fed into my old age.
I've never failed a job, but then again, I've never taken on anything I didn't think I could handle. It pays to be cautious. So this time, when Stromm called me in to brief me on the situation, I weighed up the odds, and figured it'd be no problem. It's not the first time I've been wrong.

In the past, Stromm had always given me bounties for persons or monsters within the wasteland; this was the first time he had gone to measures such as teleporting me hundreds of miles. And into an active battle no less. Immediately I realized the import of this mission. He bid me help the group led by the wizard Aleska, and to surreptitiously recover a statue either from Praxis's house, or from his enemies. I was then to invite the party to Indel Stronghold and deliver the statue to no one other than my employer.
After defeating the Rakshasas and securing the item, I feared all would be undone by the unwanted arrival of a WC security force. Knowing I've never possessed the art of negotiation, I quickly hid to see how the situation would play out.
There was no reason to believe that these adventurers would cover for me; We had only just met. And for a moment, it seemed I might have to sneak out of the area and walk the 150 miles back to the wasteland in order to complete my job. But lucky for me, through the quick wit of that satyr, and the fortuitous ignorance of the wizard, the security force went back to their other futile efforts at peacekeeping.
Now free from distractions, I encouraged the party to travel to Stromm's keep using the teleport scroll he outfitted me with. The half-orc stubbornly demanded I show them the statue before they went anywhere, but that was not in my job description. And I've never failed a job. Yet again, the quick and subtle wit of the satyr helped me with my toil. A quick toot on those pipes of his seemed to mollify the barbarian like a rattle to a babe. I think I even heard an offer of lemonade...
It was then that a seemingly old companion of the group, the druid DonZAbel, flew in with tidings of a meeting between the outlaw Tatian and the ill-omened Al'Chazar. Thinking this to be news Stromm might like to hear, I figured it would not be a breach of contract to escort him as well.

Finally free of misgivings, the party agreed to travel with me and we teleported deep into the wastelands, a short march from Indel. I say short, but in that blighted land, plagued with all manner of monstrosities hungry for a morsel or a bit of malicious entertainment, no march is that short.
And no sooner had we set foot on the road to Indel, than we perceived an ominous speck on the horizon-- a dark form borne aloft on dark wings. If you are to survive in this wasteland, you quickly learn that a shadow in the sky usually means just one thing: a dragon.

With hardly a thought, we all agreed to hide, taking to the trees along the path. The dragon grew larger and larger as we sought to conceal every part of ourselves. And just as the dragon drew close enough to see the red gleam of its scales, we looked to see the druid with his feet and legs very visibly sticking out from his place of hiding. I've known many druids, and many druids like DonZAbel. At every other time, in any situation whatsoever that even slightly smelled of danger, I imagined DonZAbel changing into one of his highly adapted animal forms, physically and masterfully suited to hiding from all manner of creatures, even in their natural element. But of course I just met this druid and didn't know his habits.

At any rate, the dragon was soon upon us, and as soon as it spied the imperfectly-concealed legs of our companion, it let loose a great conflagration from the depths of its gullet, engulfing the entire area around the druid. Lucky for him he is better at diving for cover than finding it: Just as the fire enveloped the bush hiding him, he leapt out, seeming to avoid being burned too badly. His pet, however, was not so lucky.

Soon after seeing his friend burned, the satyr selflessly pulled out his pipes, hoping to once again mollify the situation with his haunting, goatish melody, but alas, this dragon seemed far too hungry to be dissuaded by a tune.

The rest of the battle was a blur. The brave druid, knowing it to be too late to hide, courageously rose up before the dragon, bearing forth all of his wrath. He raised his arms, and the clouds above grew black and began to churn in an angry spiral above the dragon. A quick, cutting motion from the druid brought down an arc of flashing blue lightning, wracking the beast and causing it to roar in frustration. Arrows rained into its scaly hide from my bow and the satyr's. Enraged, the dragon flew up, and then dropped directly down upon the satyr and his hiding place, crushing both him and the tree he was next too.
DonZAbel again sent forked lightning flashing from the black maelstrom above the dragon's head, and again the dragon bellowed its rage. Momentarily forgetting the squashed goat-man beneath it, it charged towards DonZabel, who valiantly stood his ground.

Meanwhile, the half-orc made the most of the beast's distractedness and moved close to the wizard, Aleska. Receiving powerful magic buffs, the barbarian charged into the dragon, smashing his axe into the tough, scaled flank. But alas, it would not be enough.
One final time, with the dragon's hot, putrid breath fuming out from a deadly, razor-fang filled maw, the druid pulled down a third charge of white-hot electricity, sending it full into the ugly face before him. Again the dragon screamed its hatred, but this time, without hesitation, it brought forth all of its fury in a full attack on the brave druid, using all of its formidable natural weapons. The satyr and I fired more arrows, but it was too late. In that flurry of fang and claw, the druid had met his match.
Madak, the loyal half-orc, seeing his friend (of just a few days) cut down, slammed home his axe again and again, finally finishing the work of the lightning and the arrows.

With the battle finished, the party secured the area, collected the brave hero's body, and posted a watch lest any other vile creature catch them unawares.
The wizard, Aleska, voiced his need for rest, but Madak and I, seeing the barbarian's need for new armor, and the perfectly sized hide of this red dragon, decided it was worth a few minutes to butcher the beast and carry the hide back to Indel Stronghold. After all, we both had much experience in the ways of survival, it shouldn't take too long. And in the meantime, there couldn't possibly be another threat this soon after two battles when everyone was exhausted of resources. Right?