In the midst of a raging inferno, Allyn gripped tight the haft of his greatsword. All around him the city burned, the sheer heat melting even the brickwork of the buildings–once homes filled with people, now reduced to charred mortar and slag. Ash and cinder clogged the air around them and blocked out the stars and sky, leaving only a dark smog that hung like death’s shadow. 

The creature responsible for this devastation stood tall above him. It’s scales a deep crimson, they glittered in the light of the fire, its fangs bone-white and sharper than steel. Dark smoke poured from its nostrils with every breath, and its angry growls were like thunder as they rumbled from its massive chest. Beneath its huge bulk lay scorched flesh and arms and armor reduced to smoldering goo, bones part of the cloud of ash above. Any would recognize this great foe for what it was: an ancient and powerful Red Dragon.

The monster they faced seemed insurmountable–and the party was struggling to stand. Already they seemed near to their end; the party Cleric, Sienna, who faithfully served a deity of life, wavered on her last legs, while beside her the elven Ranger Cirion was down to but a single arrow. Worst of all the Wizard of the group, Liandros, a studied and earnest student of the arcane, had fallen, gasping on the ground, his flesh blackened by the dragon’s loathsome flames. 

Yet hope was not all lost. Their foe had not gone unscathed. Large swathes of the dragon’s scaly bulk was marked by scorchmarks made by lightning and deep gashes where Allyn’s blade and Cirion’s arrows had pierced its nigh-impenetrable scales. Victory was in sight.

The beast reared back, its bloody claws bared, the hatred in its gaze as hot as the flames around them, yet Allyn moved just before it. All he needed to do was land but a few more hits–his greatsword was enchanted, a reward granted to him by a priestess the group had rescued from a lich, and its magic would ensure the beast’s fall if the strikes were true. He raised the blade high, its magical gleam a hopeful light–!

…and at a large table covered in sheets of paper, some snacks and miniature figures, a group of friends let out a collective groan of dismay as the dice rolled by the friend playing Allyn the Fighter all came up Natural 1s, making each Attack he had just taken a miss, and wasting his turn. The DM for the campaign grimaced as he picked up his own dice, rolling a six as he sighed and made the party make Dexterity saving throws as the Ancient Red Dragon they were fighting used its Breath Weapon–and all of the friends had their hands in their heads as they all managed to fail, and the group of valiant heroes they had been roleplaying as for months were burnt to a crisp by 26d6 Fire damage.