Wednesday, August 10, 2011

New Labyrinth Lord Monster: Purple Dragon

"I don't like this. Getting in here was too easy."

The stocky, chestnut colored Earth Pony muttered to his companions as he shuffled his shaggy hooves skittishly on the smooth granite floor of the vast underground tunnel.

His chainmail barding clinked softly over the rustling of the long copper colored braids that ran down his thick neck to his powerful whithers, as he turned his head to look at them. "A dragon's lair should be much better defended."

A slight, grey furred Unicorn Pony stallion stood facing a massive, iron banded doorway set into the living stone of the tunnel, his darker grey traveling cloak draped over a well worn set of leather barding. His horn glimmered a silvery color, as he levitated a set of lock picks and dug them around in the keyhole set in the portal's face.

He didn't turn to look at his much larger comrade as he replied, his yellowish eyes narrowed in concentration. "I always knew you northerners were backwards. Down in the civilized lands we're usually happy when its easy."

The Earth Pony snorted derisively and turned back to peer down the cavernous tunnel, his braided tail lashing behind him in irritation.

The diminutive Unicorn Pony's lips compressed into a sardonic smile as he worked the lock picks. "Well, once I get through this beastly contraption we'll soon have you cheered up. There are so many gemstones on the other side of this door my horn feels like it's going to pop right off of my forehead." He lapsed into silence as he continued to fiddle with the lock, his tongue beginning to creep slowly out the side of mouth.

Cob Farrier chuckled to himself as he leaned against the wall next to the doorway with his spear propped against the stone beside him, holding a flickering torch out so that the small equine could see what he was doing without tying up his horn with a light spell.

He'd been traveling with Drafter and The Dowser for the better part of a year, ever since he'd first met them in the Equestrian city of Lankmare, and their constant banter always amused him. He'd never imagined a seasoned warrior like himself would enjoy the company of these little ponies so much.

His brow furrowed in a more serious expression as he turned his attention back down the other branch of the corridor. There would be plenty of time to laugh later, especially if they made it out with the wealth that the small grey Unicorn Pony was promising they'd find. But for now, it was time to keep an eye out for trouble.

Trouble, however, announced itself to their ears rather than their eyes, as a low, base rumble sounded from down the hallway that Drafter was watching.

A pair of emerald green eyes glinted in the darkness, and something large and terrible with claws that sparked on the granite and footfalls that shook the trio up to their knees approached. The torch in Cob's hand shook as a huge reptilian head with glossy purple scales snaked into the pool of light it cast.

An impossibly deep voice echoed in their ears. "And what do you little mammals think you're doing trying to break into my pantry?"

Cob and The Dowser stood transfixed, as Drafter spun on his hooves and shouted at them. "Run you wretches. I'll hold it here!"

He craned his flexible neck as coppery braids flailed about his head and shoulders, and yanked a broadsword out from a sheath on his harness. He turned back toward the dragon, snorting and pawing at the ground with the handle of the blade clenched in his teeth.

The great purple scaled monster rolled its glinting eyes and snorted as well, in what could be called a dismissive tone if it didn't make all three adventurers want to wet themselves. "Really? You want to do it this way, do you?"

The chestnut Earth Pony whinnied a battle cry tinged with stark terror, and charged at the dragon as his grey Unicorn Pony companion shouted after him in desperation. "NO! Backwards! Run AWAY from the peril! DRAFTER!"

His cry rose hysterically as a cone of green flame blossomed in the hallway. The warrior pony vanished in a puff of black ash, as his companions stared in stark horror. The dragon shook his head in what could almost be imagined to be sorrow, before fixing its gaze on the remaining two invaders of its lair.

Cob Farrier's spear clattered on the stone floor as he turned and took to his heels, the torch clenched in a white knuckle grip in his hand. He dared a look back over his shoulder and saw the great beast looming over the tiny, trembling form of The Dowser, who appeared to be frozen in fear. Before the fleeing human could cry out, the dragon coughed another emerald colored apocalypse, and his other little pony friend was gone.

The lone adventurer ran pell mell down the cavernous hallway, hot tears streaming down his cheeks as his breath came in terrified sobs, grief and fear mixed bitterly in his heart.

Were it not for the guttering torch in his hand, he would have slammed face first into a wall of rock that completely blocked his progress, trapping him. He shouted incoherently and pounded on the unyeilding stone, before the dragons footfalls behind him replaced his hot panic with cold terror. He turned at bay, pressing back against the wall as the huge creature once again stepped into the torchlight. All he could do was wait for his end.

And wait.

And wait.

The dragon settled itself down on its haunches and forelimbs and stared at him with its piercing green eyes, tapping its long graceful claws on the floor as Cob trembled and breathed ragged, shuddering breaths in the echoing stone space that would become his tomb.

Still, no death came, as the creature sat with what could almost be termed a rather bored expression on its reptilian face. Eventually, the man at arms could take it no longer, and in a strangled voice called out to the dragon. "Wh-why don't you strike? What are you waiting for?"

In reply, a rumble issued from the depths of the great, purple scaled beast's belly, and it looked at him with a glint in its eye. "Just this."

A moment later it belched forth another gout of green flame, this time tinged with a thousand glittering, sparkling motes. Cob shielded his eyes and shrank back against the wall. And then it was over.

He shook his head. It wasn't over in the way he'd expected at all. The heat and green flash just stopped, leaving just the light of his torch, still held tightly in his hand in a death grip. No searing pain. Nothing. He dared to look up and his jaw dropped in shock.

There, huddled before the dragon with drooping ears and tails stood his two equine companions, their heads held low in a posture of contrition. While slightly singed, they were otherwise unharmed. The huge beast tapped one of its claws and narrowed its gleaming emerald eyes. "Well?"

Drafter petulantly nudged The Dowser, who spoke up with a sullen, defeated tone. "Her Majestic Solar Highness sends her regards, and has commanded us to convey our heartfelt apologies for disturbing your lair. We're all very, very sorry, and we promise it will never happen again, and that we will try to think of others before breaking into their homes and trying to make off with their valuables."

The dragon gave the three of them a long, appraising look, then nodded to itself in satisfaction. As it rose to its feet, it jerked a scythe bladed thumb over its shoulder. "Good. Now get out, and don't ever let me catch you in this part of Equestria again."

With that, it turned, and stalked away into the depths of the tunnel. Cob stood dumbfounded as Drafter turned and walked over to him with his hooves dragging on the floor. He grabbed a corner of the man at arms' cloak in his teeth and gave it a tug. "Come on. Lets get out of here while the getting is good."

The human could only stammer a reply as he began to shuffle forward. "By the g-g-gods…"

The Dowser sighed and frowned, kicking at a pebble with his hoof as he slouched down the hall ahead of his comrades. "Yes. We were just sent to see ours, and she gave us quite a stern talking to…"


Number Encountered: 1d4(1d4)
Alignment: Neutral
Movement: 90(30) Fly: 240'(80')
Armor Class: 0
Hit dice: 9
Attacks: 3 (Claw, Claw, Bite) or 1(Breath)
Damage: 1d6/1d6/3d10
Save: F9
Morale: 9
Horde: XV (With 100% chance of gems)
Habitat: Rolling Hills & Plains or Underground
Probability Asleep: 10%
Probability of Speech: 90%
Breath: 70' long, 30' wide, Cone, Green Teleportation Flame
Spells: Lvl 1: 5/Lvl 2: 5/Lvl 3: 3

Purple Dragons, sometimes known as Royal Dragons, are a rare subspecies of dragon thought to share kinship with both Blue and Red Dragons, with a Blue's tendency towards Neutral behavior and the Red's love of hoarding treasure, particularly gemstones, which they eat with great relish. Purple Dragons prefer rolling plains and low hills for their lairs, but are excellent diggers and are quite comfortable in underground catacombs.

They are highly magical in nature, which is most prominently manifested in their breath weapon, a cone shaped gout of green flame that magically teleports the target to a location chosen by the dragon, causing them to appear in a cloud of sparkling green flames completely unharmed. This can either be some location in its lair, or within 10' of another powerful creature that the dragon has attuned to. This recipient can be another dragon, or some other powerful magical being like a god or goddess, a titan, a storm or cloud giant, a genie, a lich, or an elf or wizard of 9th. level or higher. It takes about a year in the dragon's presence for it to be attuned to a non-dragon in this way.

A non-dragon of sufficient power can learn a variant of the Teleport spell that allows them to send creatures and objects to the Purple Dragon's location, causing them to appear in a gout of flame spontaneously belched forth by the dragon. A Purple Dragon can use its teleportation breath weapon three times a day, as normal for dragons, but can receive sendings without limit.

Any target caught in this green flame may avoid teleportation if they make a successful Save vs. Breath Weapon. This results in them taking half damage as if they'd instead been hit by a Red Dragon's fire breath.

Purple Dragons are highly intelligent, and use their teleportation breath to its full tactical advantage. At the very least, they will drop their targets into lakes, cages, or monster lairs if they have a cruel streak. Two or more Purple Dragons working in tandem can send reinforcements to one another, causing fearsome guard beasts like manticores and owlbears to appear before interlopers as if conjured. Some rumors persist that these creatures are even able to breathe upon themselves and escape from danger, but this has never been proven.

Some more magically advanced kingdoms retain young specimens of this breed as messengers, using them to send small packages and letters across vast distances instantly. When these courier dragons come of age, they are generally released with a rich pension, and are under the protection of the kingdom they served, able to call upon them for aid. Purple Dragon clans will often adopt out, or sell, their eggs to such kingdoms to strengthen alliances and increase their gem hordes.

This monster is hereby designated as Open Game Content via the Open Game License. My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic is copyright © Hasbro Inc. This article implies no claim on said copyright and is done without permission in the spirit of fun, love, and tolerance.


  1. You truly have a gift for writing about little adventuring ponies.

    The concept is a sort of brainworm or mental virus that I feel is going to ruin the serious tone of my campaign, yet I don't think I can resist putting them in on account of their cuteness. I must be getting old...

  2. Thank you! I'm glad you dug it!

    Your mileage may vary, but I tend to view the whole "My Little Pony" craze as a much needed way for the nerdosphere to lighten up a bit.

    Maybe some colorful little equines named after baked goods might be just the shot of high fructose corn syrup your campaign needs. Heck, it's a good way to annoy or confuse your players, at the very least, and that can be quite therapeutic in it's own right.

    "A little nonsense now and then, is treasured by the wisest men." as Roald Dahl once said.