Dragon Magazine #050.pdf - TheCrimsonPirate.com

June 1981
Self defense
for dragons
Everyone's favorite foe gets a fighting chance
by Gregory Rihn
The dragon is nearly everyone’s favorite monster. There is
something numinous in the name and the image: sagacious,
fierce, terrible in ifs jaws and claws, soaring aloft on great pinions,
breathing great gouts of flame and smoke. If such a creature
existed in nature, even without fiery breath, its sire,
strength, mobility, and intelligence would make it a formidable
foe of and competitor with mankind — our advantage lying only
in numbers and a comparatively rapid rate of reproduction.
But the dragon is an endangered species. How can this be?
Just as the dragon is the favorite pet of the Dungeon Master, if is
the favored prey of the adventurers. Is the castle on the crag
haunted by a vampire? The characters shudder and dare the
crag only with trepidation. Do the depths of the caves hold
demons? Let’s wait until we’re a bit more skilled... But let word
get out that a dragon lurks or fairs in the vicinity, and every
character within earshot drops everything else and begins sharpening
sword with dragon in mind. Hirelings of every stamp are
readily bought with the promise of sharing in the dragon’s
enormous hoard. When the party has equipped itself with control
potions, all the magic that can be begged, borrowed, or
stolen, and a train of pack mules to ferry back the loot, it’s hi-ho
and off they go dragon hunting.
No other monster holds the potential of such great gain at
such comparatively low risk.
Yes, I said low risk. What other monster is liable to be found
sleeping obliviously in his den? What other creature can be so
easily subdued and then sold on the open market? And even
dead, the dragon alone is worth a sizable ransom; its hide can be
sold for armor, its teeth for ornament, its other parts for potions.
All other creatures with spell-using or magic-like capabilities
have them pretty uniformly throughout the type. A dragon with
no spell ability has only one other major weapon: its breath,
which works only three times per day. The claws of even the
largest gold dragon are no more formidable than swords, and
many other creatures can approach the damage of a dragon’s
bite, or possess abilities Iike paralyzation or life draining that are
continually reusable.
The result is that few dragons are able to stand up to the
invariably large and well equipped parties that are thrown
against them. A carefully dispersed party can avoid the blasts of
breath weapon with a fair chance of survival by surrounding the
dragon and inflicting unnacceptable damage on the beast’s
flanks and tail. Even if the dragon were guaranteed of killing an
adventurer with each bite, a large party would still overwhelm it
— especially if the dragon was awakened from sleep by one or
more heavy-damage spells hitting home.
The dragon really ought to be more formidable in melee, a
veritabte whirlwind of destruction, the likes of which should
rightly frighten anyone in possession of all his wits.
The damage done by dragon claws is far too slight for anything
except small representatives of the species. An averagesized
dragon ought to do twice as much, and a huge dragon
perhaps three times as much. This would reflect the enormous
strength these creatures possess. The smallest dragon type, the
white, averages 24 feet in length. Even if we assume that half of
the dragon’s length is made up of neck and tail, the dragon
should still have as much mass as a large elephant. Yet these
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creatures have the muscular strength to fly! Even if it is assumed
that the dragon’s power of flight is due to an inborn magical
power, akin to the breath weapon, a creature of that size must be
exceptionally strong to be able to move with any speed. Therefore,
a dragon ought to have at least the muscular strength of a
comparably sized giant, if not more. Remember, a giant cannot
fly by muscular strength alone, and if giants had strength in
human terms in proportion to their size, they would not even be
able to stand, and support their huge frames.
Further, dragons have other assets that are not considered in
combat. Unlike reptiles or saurians, dragons are hexapedal, or
six-limbed, with the “extra” pair of limbs being wings. Other
flying creatures, birds, bats, and the extinct pterosaurs, have
wings made out of modified forelimbs.
Let us assume that, considering neck and tail, a dragon might
have a winsgspread approximately equal to its overall length. A
24-foot-long dragon would therefore have a 12-foot wing on
either side. These wings are often thought of as bat-like, a
membranous structure supported on a frame of modified wing
and hand bones. (See the AD&D Monster Manual illustrations
of the white, silver, and green dragons, and the dragonne.)
There is often a “thumb” claw at the “hand” joint. The dragon
Smaug, as pictured in the television version of The Hobbit, had a
weIl developed thumb and fingers at the wing-hand, similar to
bats and flying dinosaurs. I personally prefer this idea.
The point of this discourse on wings is this: If you have ever
tried to corral a winged creature, a chicken, or, worse yet, a large
goose, you know that it strikes out with its wings. Roger Caras,
in his book Dangerous To Man, reports several instances of fatal
injuries being inflicted by the blows of a swan’s wings. Therefore,
those characters standing to the sides of the dragon must
dare the sweep of the dragon’s wings. Those in front and near
the center of the wing would be in danger of being struck by the
wing-claws. A wing buffet should do some damage, mainly of a
bruising, battering type, tending to throw adventurers away
from the dragon, and this should amount to about one-third of
the dragon's normal claw damage. If the target is within range of
the wing-claw, add an extra “to hit” roll for the dragon, and if the
result is a hit, add the appropriate extra damage, ranging from
1-2 points for a smash dragon to perhaps 1-10 for a big one.
An intelligent dragon might use its wings in more than one
manner. A dragon with a gaseous breath weapon could use the
sweep of its wings to fan the gas into every corner of its lair. A
dragon that has started a fire with its breath could fan the flames
into a roaring conflagration. A prudent dragon might cover the
floor of its den with ice crystals, sand, ash, or other loose material
which could be whipped into a blinding, stinging storm at
the onset of an attack.
On the subject of limbs, what about a dragon’s hind feet?
Surely any dragon is intelligent enough to kick out at something
attacking its flank, especially if the front end is otherwise engaged.
Allow one foot stamp by one of a dragon’s hind feet in
every other set of attacks. (The dragon, if not actually airborne,
has to stand on at least one foot at all times, although it might be
supported by its wings to some degree. This should do the same
damage as the foreclaws, but at -2 to hit. If the dragon were for
some reason to engage in close combat with some creature
nearly its own size, such as a giant, then the dragon might well
employ both rear claws at once, in the manner of some great