Choose Your Own Adventure #33: The Dragon's Den

Previously, I defeated the leader of evil giant ants who had somehow disguised itself as a robot and won the trust of the galaxy's best scientists. Today, it's back to more adventures in a dreamworld of magic and fantasy, as delivered by solid second-tier author Richard Brightfield. As a special added bonus, the illustrator has worked with "Heavy Metal" magazine, so you know this is going to be super righteous. If you don't believe me, consider the cover, full of warmed-over Tolkien cliches and hovering heads.

 Battle the evil dragon Thermal Inversion and return the evil pendant to Mount Misfortune.

The generic medieval setting is quickly established via some utilitarian prose and it's revealed that I'm some sort of wanderer, traveling across the land of magic in search of adventure. I honestly expected the next paragraph to be "You're in front of a dungeon entrance. What do you do?" Instead, I notice how the local economy and tourism industry has been devastated by attacks from a mythological Satan analogue. My lone wanderer character is so lacking in basic empathy that my immediate reaction is to speculate on the chance for treasure, ignoring the massive human cost of wyrm terrorism.

Of course, all this "here there be dragons" build is casually tossed aside on the next page, as another hoary plot device, the tavern of adventure leads, is introduced. Two poorly described individuals are discussing a treasure map or the like and I, as the Player Character, sense this is the one true path and interject myself, citing non-existent experience in such matters. Superficial charm, inability to connect with society or form friendships, total lack of emotion in the face of human suffering, grandiose and delusional self-worth...I'm a psychopath. Meanwhile, these other two goofs, who I'll presumably betray and kill after they're no longer useful, are worried about "the King's spies" and want to meet in a room upstairs. I consider it, but instead tell them to...

They agree, so I kill some time enjoying the rustic hospitality and marinating in my own ridiculous self-confidence. It's night by the time I hit the street and, wouldn't you know it, my meal ticket is tied to a pole. "It's a trap!" I'm not posting that Admiral Akbar image, one dreadful meme per post is my limit.

I'm quickly sold out to the guards for some pieces of silver by the tavern maid (no, really, this is what happens) and the sword and shield patrol closes in. I'm given a choice to try to run for it, but because I'M ROLE-PLAYING my emotionally hollowed-out character I decide to stand my ground and trust that I'll be fine in the face of pre-Industrial jurisprudence. It's not like I've done anything wrong and besides, I'm just traveling and am I free to go?

I get pitched into a prison cell with the people I was hoping to exploit for my own heartless gain. Does this count as irony, Alanis? Anyway, the King has so little to do that he hears our case personally, and my doomed assistants are all "We were going to tell you about the treasure right away!" which leads to a discussion of the creatively named "Dragon Mountain" instead of a prompt drawing and quartering like it would in real life. Of course, all this builds to nothing because we don't want to anger the dragons and end our policy of appeasement and delivering billions of dollars to them on pallets under the cover of darkness, so it's time for some harsh punishments in salt mines.

It turns out the one guy I barely knew as "Boke" is actually a girl named "Virgana," which I guess would mean more if we'd gotten more than a sentence worth of description prior to this point, and as such is exempt from "salt mine" duty and is assigned serving maid duty. The other, unnamed conspirator and myself, the anti-hero, can't use the woman pass, so we're offered a choice between serving at the bottom of the value chain in seasoning delivery or exile. I'll take the slave labor in an unlit, underground hell, please. How bad could it be? 

Yeah, cut it out Doyle.

As you might expect, the gig in the mine is easy and time passes quickly. Then, there's a panic, because the King has decided to seal off this part of the operation, with the prisoners still in there. I like how the unnamed Monarch is personally blamed for every bad thing that happens. Anyway, the reason we're being buried alive is because the digging accidentally hit a "dragon run" within the mountain and I'm such a piece of work that I get all excited and think this is my big chance to get that gold, instead of repenting sins and preparing to die like any sane individual would. 

Not about to let the opportunity to be the world's richest corpse slip away, I make my way deeper, eventually finding the cavern dug by a scaled metaphor for our sins. Then my torch goes out. Then I see the eyes of the monster glistening in the darkness. Everything is going according to plan. 

Instead of trying to fight the nightmare reptile in its home territory, in total darkness, with no weapon, as I feel the deranged adventurer and convicted treasure map criminal would, the book forces me to flee down another tunnel, eventually losing the flame lizard and finding a grotto. I decide not to swim across and keep going. 

That all you got? It's on now!

Another passage leads to what the author describes as "hell," complete with lava floes and the like. Then an "apelike creature," apropos of nothing, attacks. I try to run, am overwhelmed by the intense heat and die before this highly random monster can even start rending me to pieces. In some ways it seems a very fitting end.

This one was bad. Almost every new development left me rolling my eyes and the limited agency offered was just enough to provoke angry at how predictable everything ended up being. Apparently writing a compelling fantasy story about dragons is difficult and this attempt was definitely a failure.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.