Finale

Use the Castle Town Battle Map for this encounter. Place two Cultists per Player(of less if there are fewer remaining cultists) concealed on the map. Try to place them near cover so they can protect themselves from ranged attacks if necessary.

The dragon may be placed anywhere in the open or on top of a structure. Set fire to a few buildings and trees near the dragon to show evidence of its entrance. Make sure the dragon's placement is far enough away from the PCs so that the fastest among them will need to use at least two full movements to get within melee range.

Allow the players to place themselves within a 10x10 or 20x20 meter area near one edge of the battle map.

Roll Initiative for your Dragon and one initiative for your cultists as a group. Ask the PCs to do the same and establish your Initiative Order.

A brief introduction to read to the players when the dragon enters the city.

The first sign is silence. No birds sing. No livestock bray. No dogs bark. Nature feels it. Something is not right. Danger approaches.

Even the banners over Castle Town seem to fall still, as if holding their breath. Then comes the light. Not the golden, gentle light of a sunrise. A deep angry red. A crimson glare paints the hills as something massive crests the western ridge.

The treeline ignites and an entire path in the forest vanishes into smoke seconds. Farms erupt into flame. The river begins to steam and boil. Livestock scream in terror. The sky seems ripple and warp with energy. Then the sound is all that can be heard.

A roar so vast it bends the world around it. Glass shatters across Portaland. The cathedral bells ring without being touched. Children wake in tears. Old warriors drop their swords. And at last... it comes into view. The dragon.

Its wings stretch wider than city streets, each beat sending shockwaves across the rooftops. Its scales shimmer like molten rubies. Its claws are like obsidian sickles that carve gouges into the castle walls as it lands. Its maw opens wide, wide enough to swallow a warhorse whole, and from its throat boils fire ancient and unnatural. Not orange, not yellow… but deep, seething red and burning with such heat and intensity that it could melt steel.

It speaks in a message pressed into your mind like a brand: “Bow and Serve, or Die. I care not what you choose.” Behind it, the portals ripple and shimmer, glowing veins of the veil pulsing at the edges of the sky. The Melding has arrived. And the Wyrm is its herald.

The Flame Dragon is an extremely powerful creature, capable of effortlessly soloing low to medium level parties. Because of this, it has a larger stat block that can be more challenging to remember. We recommend you acquaint yourself with its stats and abilities prior to the final battle.

You are a dragon, an ancient terror, a force of greed, wrath, and dominion. Master of sky, flame, and magic. Kingdoms have crumbled beneath your wings. Armies have fled your shadow.

And yet, even you were not immune to betrayal. These vile and pitiful mortals can never be trusted, not fully.

This betrayal caused you to be driven from your hoard by an elder dragon and his amassed legions, you were cast out, humiliated, and stripped of your horde. For a time, you fled, seething, scheming, starved for vengeance but lacking the means.

Then, as if summoned by fate itself, you were drawn into this world by the Cult of the Pinnacle, arrogant mortals foolish enough to attempt to bind you, but wise enough to offer tribute. They offer you Portaland, a city swollen with wealth and teetering from recent, orchestrated monster attacks.

They call you a god. You accept the title, for now.

This city, weakened and ripe, will easily fall in a day under siege by your fire and claws. Its riches will rebuild your hoard. Its armies, those that bend the knee, will become yours. Through Portaland, you will, one day, reclaim what was stolen.

The dragon is a living weapon of aerial supremacy, arcane power, and ruthless ambition. This is a creature that has survived centuries through guile, mobility, and overwhelming force.

Here are some quick Dos and Don’ts to keep your dragon fight memorable, dynamic, and true to its terrifying legend.

DO:

• Use the skies. Fly off mid-fight, circle around, unleash a breath weapon, and dive in with devastating flyby or landing strikes.
• Cast spells when least expected. Break assumptions. The dragon is more than tooth and claw, it is a powerful spellcaster.
• Maximize your turn. Use all movement, actions, and legendary actions every round to dominate the battlefield.
• Sacrifice your cultists. They are pawns. Use them as distractions, living shields, or whatever serves you best.
• Play smart. This is a tactical genius on par with generals. Exploit terrain, isolate targets, and punish mistakes without mercy.

DON’T:

• Stand still. Dragons are apex predators, not statues. Use the full map, run, climb, fly, evade and come back in when they least expect it.
• Repeat yourself. Avoid spamming the same attack combo. Rotate breath weapons, tail sweeps, spells, and bite/claw attacks.
• Get pinned. You lose when you lose mobility. If surrounded, break free. If cornered, take to the air. Escape is always an option, and a means to reposition for another devastating attack.

The dragon screamed in a mixture of pain and rage as the final blow came. A sound like a collapsing dimension. A cry that seems to echo through the bones of time.

And then… silence.

Not even the wind dared move at first.

Its body is impossibly vast, armored in scales that glimmer like gems, twisted in its death throes, collapsing into an undignified heap.

You stand amidst the destruction it left behind. smoke rising from the rubble all around you. Magic seems to evaporate off the dragon and bleed into the air like vapor.

You did it. You fought the impossible and won.

Portaland doesn't cheer right away. The city waits. Watches. The fires still smolder. The veil still ripples.

But then the bravest survivors emerge, wide-eyed and awestruck. Then the bells begin to toll. A slow song of survival and victory over the Melding.

And high above, the portals flicker, shrink, and finally seal, for now.

Portaland lives, thanks to the Riftguard.

Though the scars remain, so too does the memory: of the day the dragon died... and Portaland found their heroes, their protectors, their Riftgaurd.

They say Portaland was ended in a fire. But that’s not true.

It ended with an unforgettable battle. When all others ran or hid, they stood there in defiance as the dragon’s shadow blotted out the sky. The Riftguard.

Their blades struck true. Their shots hit their marks. Their spells carved wounds into myth. They shed tears and bled.

But it wasn’t enough.

The dragon’s eyes saw through every defense and weakness. It unmade magic. Bent time. And tore through flesh like parchment.

One by one, the Riftguard fell, not quietly, but as the last heroes and legends of Portaland. As the Riftguard.

In the aftermath, the city of Portaland burned, twisted and warped. It became something else entirely.

The portals burst wide, and from their mouths poured an unending horde of riftspawn, things that were never meant to touch this world.

The dragon didn’t destroy Portaland. It claimed it. It transformed it.

Now the city floats between dimensions, part nightmare, part tomb. Portaland has become an unknown void on the maps. 

Now it is just a memory, just like this story. Just like the Riftgaurd.

Now the dragon turns its focus to the rest of Renna, now ripe for the conquering.