1st Edition AD&D Dragon Assault: When Cats Save the Day

A recent thread on RPG Pub caught my attention, dealing with dragons and defending a settlement in a quasi medieval world from winged death on wings.

What got me thinking was the type of dragon assaulting the city and in what game system matters a lot. A REAL lot.Also, what type of breath weapon does the dragon have? Traditional fire and smoke of the concussive, napalm nuclear stuff of Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon?

As AD&D is the focus of a lot of the older players gaming sites I decided to ponder it from a 1st Edition AD&D perspective. 

Personally, defensive fortifications is something of an obsession for me over the decades in 1st Edition ADD. And after all these years? Its a LOT of work from magic, to underground races to yes, flying creatures assaulting the battlements. 

Three helpful Dragon magazines on the subject are:

• Dragon #145 - Theme "A Knight's home is his castle"
• Dragon #160 - Theme "Who stalk the streets, are stalked as well"
• Dragon #224 -  Theme "Fantastic Architecture"

In short, because there are high number of monsters in the game system, magic items and spells that allow for ease of assault, the means for defense has to be likewise high. 

So with all this in mind there was there I looked at page and it hit me, read on.

First Post

Willmark posted: Oh and one thing just caught my eye, if we go rules as written in 1st edition AD&D? Read closely page 29 for dragon ages in the Monster Manual. The DM rolls a single die on number appearing. You could get anything from age 1 (Young) to age 8 (Ancient)! Equal chances for each one.

Of course this in an of itself could be really amusing: "Guards man the ramparts! Summon the mages to their positions and draw the ballista and await my command to fire!

Baby dragon comes winging in... Captain of the Guard "Uhhhhhhh…”

Now sure the DM can adjust this so Smaug's grand kids doesn't come winging in looking for a snack and ending up as a juicy turkey special at the local dive But the point remains, rules as written it could happen.

And if a hatchling does mange to wobble its way into the city? Forget the fact that even normal weaponry can hurt a dragon in 1st edition. Why even bother? Just send in that uber-bad-ass of low level monsters in 1st Edition: the domestic cat!

That's right, you read it right: the cat. You know, that monster that has more hit points that most first level magic users?

The domestic cat: No. Appearing: 2-12, AC:6, MV 5", Hit Dice: 1-5 hit point, Attacks 2, Damage 1-2/1-2 Special Attacks: rear claw rakes 1-2/1-2 

With that in mind consider the following.

Second Post

Willmark posted: Building on my thoughts and the wackiness of the random nature of dragon age under Rules As Written.

That very young eight hit point dragon that might show up? What if it meets the most terrifying monster in Monster Manual II? the domestic cat with two attacks plus possibly two more from the rear claws; number appearing of two to twelve. 

It just so happens there are ten of them in this scenario. Read on.

Part 1- The City is Alerted... Dragon Inbound!
The alarm sounded wildly across the walls as men scrambled to their posts throughout the vast city.

"Dragon sighted!" shouted the lookout, voice cracking just enough to be unhelpful. "Coming in low!"

The Captain of the Guard stormed up the ramparts, hand casually on his sword hilt as if he had done this many times before. "Man the ballista! Archers to the wall! Summon the mages…where in the hell are the mages?!"

A corporal instantly appeared (they always do at just the right time). "Sir! The mages are…indisposed."

The Captain narrowed his eyes. "Define exactly what indisposed means.'"

"They're at the Shady Gutter, sir. Something about arcane research and a drinking contest."

The Captain closed his eyes for a long, painful second while rubbing his temples . "Of course they are."

A distant screech echoed through the air. All heads turned skyward.

The dragon crested the horizon. All eyes squinting and straining to catch a glimpse of the fearsome beast on the way to lay waste to their city.

It was…small. VERY small.

The Captain blinked. "That's...IT?"

The lookout squinted. "Yes, sir. Very…enthusiastic, though."

The dragon gave a high pitched roar that sounded more like a kettle thinking about boiling.

A nearby soldier whispered, "I've seen bigger chickens."

"Quiet!" barked the Captain; he was in agreement, but couldn't show it to the rank and file.

The dragon swooped closer, wobbling slightly mid-flight, and let out a puff of flame that slightly singed a banner and immediately sputtered out.

A pause.

The Captain slowly turned to the corporal. "Where are the recruits…they need some…practice"

"Sir…they too are at the Shady Gutter..."

Another pause. Longer this time and the Captain shook his head. "Of course they are."

He stared at the approaching creature, then back at his men, then off toward the city.

"Very well," he said at last. "Stand down the ballista."

The corporal hesitated. "Sir?"

"You heard me. Stand. Them. Down."

The dragon attempted another roar and clipped a chimney. Its wobbly flight continued.

The Captain rubbed his temples again, a growing headache coming on. "Go into the city."

"Sir?"

"Find me…several…cats."

The corporal blinked. "Cats, sir?"

"Yes, corporal. Cats. Small, fast, angry, and sober. Unlike anyone currently in this garrison."

The corporal saluted slowly. "Yes, sir. Cats."

The dragon landed awkwardly in the square, claws scraping stone as it tried very hard to look imposing. It puffed itself up, wings flaring with all the confidence of something that had never been told "no," and let out another defiant roar.

It echoed.

It accomplished nothing.

A shutter creaked open somewhere above. An old woman leaned out, squinted, and shut it again.

Moments later, almost effortlessly a cat slinked around a statue nearby. It looked at the dragon. The dragon looked at the cat.

Then another cat appeared. A third, until several were now milling about.

The first cat finished with its paw and sat, tail wrapped neatly around its feet, regarding the dragon with a kind of detached curiosity usually reserved for mildly interesting furniture.

The Captain folded his arms, watching from the wall.

"Well," he muttered, "let's see how this plays out."

There was a brief flurry of motion, some indignant screeching, a few offended yowls, and a surprising amount of hissing.

Then silence.

The corporal returned, slightly out of breath. "Sir…target appears to be…neutralized."

The Captain nodded gravely. He peered down into the square, where three cats now lounged atop the dragon with supreme satisfaction "…commend the cats," he said.

The corporal leaned over the wall, then straightened. "Sir, they are ignoring me."

The Captain allowed himself the faintest smile. "Of course they are."

He turned back to his men.

"Stand down. And someone fetch the mages…and bring milk."

Part 2- The City is Defended...by...cats?

Meanwhile on the Ramparts...

The "battle" below had settled into something…difficult to categorize.

A few guards leaned over the parapet, watching with mild interest.

The Captain didn't look down.

"Odds?" he asked.

The quartermaster didn't hesitate. "Cats are two to one favorites, sir."

The Captain nodded once, as if this confirmed a long-held suspicion. He reached into his pouch, produced a leather purse with the unmistakable heavy clink of coin within, and slammed it onto the stone.

"Bet this month's wages on the cats. All in."

The corporal blinked. "Sir?"

The Captain didn't even look at him.

"You heard me."

Below, there was a brief, offended screech, followed by a chorus of hisses and the unmistakable sound of something losing very quickly.

The quartermaster leaned slightly, peering over the edge. "Movement suggests the cats are pressing their advantage, sir."

"Good," said the Captain calmly.

Another pause.

The corporal rubbed his forehead. "Sir…is this…standard protocol?"

The Captain folded his arms.

"It is now."

A beat.

From below? Silence.

The quartermaster straightened. "Outcome appears decided, sir."

The Captain allowed himself the faintest nod. "See?" he said. "Reliable assets."

The corporal sighed quietly, already imagining the paperwork, "…I'm going to need a new column on the duty roster."

 

Part 3- The "Triumph" at the Shady Gutter Tavern

The Shady Gutter tavern sagged under the weight of its own questionable life choices. Tankards lay overturned, a wizard snored face-down in a spell book, and two recruits were arguing with a chair that had, by all accounts, been winning for several hours.

It was, as usual, impossible to tell who was ahead.

The door slammed open.

The Captain of the Guard strode in, armor still dusty, expression carved from equal parts triumph and disbelief.

A mage lifted his head an inch. "Did we…win?"

The Captain paused.

"…Yes."

A recruit squinted. "Did we fire the ballista?"

"No."

"Archers?"

"No."

"Magic?"

The Captain glanced at the unconscious wizard drooling into his sleeve. "…not as such."

The tavern fell into a puzzled silence.

From behind him, the corporal stepped in more quietly, running the numbers in his head for tomorrow's roll call.

"Sir," he muttered, low enough that only the Captain could hear, "how would you like me to write this up?"

The Captain didn't even hesitate.

"Decisive action," he said. "Efficient use of local assets."

The corporal closed his eyes briefly. "Of course, sir."

Outside, in the square, the aftermath remained.

The dragon lay where it had fallen; a small, unimpressive thing that had arrived with grand intentions and departed as a footnote.

Draped across it, the cats rested in various states of satisfied indifference.

One blinked slowly at nothing in particular.

Another cleaned a paw with meticulous focus.

A third lay stretched along the flank, making full use of the lingering warmth while being quietly annoyed at its steady dissipation.

They looked, as they always did: mildly disappointed in the world, and vaguely pleased with themselves.

Back inside, the Captain raised a tankard.

"To the defense of the city!"

"To the defense!" came the ragged reply.

The corporal stared into his drink.

"…I'm putting them on the roster," he muttered.

A pause.

"…and requisitioning milk."

(The End)

Conclusion?

I'm not sure other than the system one is playing in makes all the difference in the world when once considers the age of question of a dragon assaulting a city. Granted I made an absurd story out of the whole thing but the point stands.

In A Lord of the Rings game, Smaug might show up. In 1st edition AD&D fluffy and his friends are wiping out a hatchling before noon.

1st Edition Warhammer Fantasy Role-play? Well...I'm not sure you could wake even wake it up. 

There you have it. What this illustrates is that "can a dragon lay waste to a city?" The smart answer is "maybe" because (RAW) Rules As Written? They can produce some amusing results.

 Let me know your thoughts.