There was never a rule to specify the nature of these three questions. As much of a stab into the heart of our statue of lies this was, the little dragon broke no rule.
If this was my old D&D table, we'd take the Dragon of Lies with us when we left the dungeon. (If we didn't simply steal the dungeon -- that happened like three or four times with that group!) lol, we might have actually been petty enough to leave the other one there some years though!
I'll do you one better -- last time around, my players stole a kobold tribe! The paladin, who earned his epithet The Bloody Rainbow for how he killed the poor son of a bitch, made a spot check, and charged down the stereotypical cleric of Tiamat / The Dragon Below. He then rolled double twenties in the process of engaging this creature a size category smaller than him with a +1 Chainsword and uses an action surge to make an intimidate check. More nat 20s. Basically everybody realized they kinda hated that one guy and were absolutely down for worshipping the paladin who had liberated them and shown mercy.
The party puts them to work building a steel mill.
Twist: They pay them very generously, rather than treating them like the shaman did, causing the refugees to enthusiastically commit cultural genocide on what was left of their old traditions.
Twist: Many human and demihuman laborers are angry the kobolds are being paid better than they are by these carpetbaggers and go to start a riot.
Twist: The party's high-CHA sorceress responds by shouting, "Oh good, you're all hired. The orientation is inside to the left where all the stools are lined up." Eventually everyone who lost workers gained enough business to offset their butthurt, since the party was financing their adventures by supplying the entire local industry with steel by the ton, immediately replacing wrought iron across the capital. Most blacksmiths and ironworkers who retooled thrived; most of those who tried to out-compete a blast-furnace ended up operating one soon enough. This was an isekai game; such shenanigans were expected.
This leads to the most recent time my party stole a dungeon. A butthurt competitor hit them where they eat, metaphorically -- attacking their foundry with a purple worm supported by undead. Of course their answer to the new hole in the floor was to install a fucking elevator, go shoot all the remaining skeletons with ice magic until they shattered, and converted the staging area into a bomb shelter crossed with a man cave crossed with a skunk works.
To nobody's surprise, I like running classic modules as a DM. To nobody's surprise when Return to the Temple of the Frog included as set dressing a damaged fission reactor leaking radiation, my party put the (portable) reactor in their (portable) hole, moved it into their bomb shelter, and built an earth-and-water radiation shield. Now their foundry was burning suspiciously less coal and nobody could explain why…
Meanhwile they were cornering the market on mithril shipped from dwarven mines in the Mror Holds to Karrlakton and getting into all kinds of shit along the way. Good times. :)
They also quickly gained a weapons-grade silver tongue. Did you know most enslaved monsters are resentful and can be pushed to turn on their masters? 😈 My party figured it out, and to their credit, exploited the strategem constantly and ruthlessly. 😁
Alright, fine. But it ain't no happy story and I wrote it while sleep deprived, so dont expect further perfection.
The first thing it learned was boredom. Years had been spent in that cell, frozen at attention with its partner, yet it had no concept of boredom until it had a prisoner to watch. To learn from. Vibrations came from the prisoner, and an unnatural cunning knew it to be sound, a voice. A question. Sound came from it, too- an affirmation. Its partner voiced in negative. Two more questions, and then it stopped responding. Eventually the prisoner stopped speaking. Then stopped moving.
In order to understand questions, it had to understand people. But in understanding people, it learned.
The second thing it learned was sadness. More things entered the room — that base intuition labeling them as guards. The being watched the grim task performed, and could feel the weight of it. The thickness of the air and clouding of the mind as the first thing was dragged off.
As it stood at attention, it saw its partner, made of the same stone as the walls that caged them. Was it learning too?
The third was longing. The next prisoner was quiet. It stared out the window, pressed against the bars as if its muzzle could saw iron. The questions it asked were illogical, nothing to do with its predicament. Regardless, each statue answered opposite to the other. As they always would. The prisoner's voice was different sometimes, pitched up and down regularly. The statue knew not why, but it was sad when the prisoner stopped. Within these melodies it spoke of those it wanted to return to. Its soul incomplete without like to be with. It stopped singing, then stopped moving too.
The statue saw its partner. They were never out of sight of one another, not even out of the reach of one another's talons. Yet, each knew nothing of the other. This was how it discovered that feelings could exist together. Sadness and longing created something more potent together than they ever could apart. Did the other feel the same?
Fourth, hope. The next prisoner was different. It didn't seem as concerned as the others. It exhausted its questions, but unlike the others, it was not upset by that. It investigated the room and constantly looked out the window. One day a loud noise shook the room as the wall partly collapsed. Moving swiftly, automatically, each stature charged forward, but it was too late. They could not leave the room, even when such a room ceased to be, and watched the prisoner fly off and disappear into the stars. Suddenly the statue realized why this prisoner had been different. It had known that'd happen. That or it had hoped it would.
Both statues returned to their positions. Nothing changed. How could it change? But… maybe it would, one day. The statue hoped it would.
The final was love. Two prisoners this time, locked in each other's embrace as tightly as they were the cage they were forced into. They were sad together. They were bored together. Sometimes they were even hopeful together. They held each other so close. These ones didn't remain long, being escorted out mere days later. Their short stay, however, had much longer consequences.
As it watched and learned, it realized that its path was not entirely predetermined. Stolen glances at its partner turned into changes in stance in vain attempts to avoid boredom. Through the boredom, the sadness, the longing, it hoped beyond hope that its partner had learned the same. Felt the same. The final lesson had been the hardest to accept, for the more it felt, the more it longed, the more it saddened. It was either that or boredom, though. At least it had hope… for a while.
The newest prisoner was even more odd than the rest. It was small, so small, with oversized eyes that bore into the statue's stony core. When it spoke, it did so slowly. It squeaked a little on the vowels.
“Do you love each other?”
That wasn't the right question. Without hesitation, without control, both statues responded identically for the first time in their shared existence.
“No.”
The statue didn’t like hope anymore. Its eyes met its partner's. Blank stares met, unable to convey any further meaning.
Despite not having muscles, the statue felt the ground shake under it. A second pair of talons gripped its spear as it slumped forward. The first sound it ever made without being asked was one it was very familiar with. One it had learned, at one point or another, from every previous prisoner. It began to cry.
Plot twist...the liar is the one on the left. The one on the right said no because he didn't want to make it awkward, and is now sad because now he thinks he can't admit ot.
Pfft, no problem - but thank u/TheBrewThatIsTrue , as they're the one that showed the comic within the comments, I just wanted to bring it to your attention :D
The amount of emotional damage the one on the right got is indragon (idk if that is the right word but whatever) even if it’s a statue that was brutal man.
Generally we would say cruel, traumatic, or unempathetic.
There isn't really a dragonian equivalent to the word "humane" or its negated form. Since that word exists because of humans' hubris in thinking that they are the most kind or that empathy is a natural human quality. Which is ironic considering that humans have invented some of the most abject forms of cruelty imaginable.
It's not bad that humans would like to be better and to strive to be kind and compassionate towards others. However using a word that describes humans as being inherently compassionate and empathetic, doesn't really acknowledge the importance of having to work towards that, and work to continue maintaining it.
I'm so dumb with these riddles, I still can't figure which one is lying. I would say the right one, but I can't be sure and need to know it. And I'll give them both a hug.
Dragon B - Yeah but it's just a statue. It's not like it's a real person who's feelings matter.
A -The first question was do you have feelings?
B - No the first question was do you love each other? One emotion isn't a large enough sample size to equate feelings that matter. Possibly we have two feelings in the reactions as well. But that's only one statue
B - For all we know that one's an outlier. Don't concern yourself with the outlier.
A - Dude that's even more sad
B - For it maybe. For everyone else it's no biggie
I was just browsing youtube and stumbled upon a dub of this comic. I honestly didn't think anyone'd remember my old comic. This is genuinely amazing! Thank you.
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u/ToastySkinks Spyro Feb 09 '26
Straight to jail that was uncalled for little dude.