“The ravenous dragon just swallowed you whole…”

“It’ll take a critical success to escape her digestive prison…”

“Better hope you roll a nat 20 before all your dice melt”

Zoe’s words muffled by an inch or so of skin and muscle, as the rabbit laid out the dire predicament Jacob found himself in.  The entire encounter so far not going too well for him, as he was consistently rolling low, and now to make matters worse the luckless lynx had been swallowed by the scaly monster that had been terrorizing the village. Everything going piss poor from his initial initiative roll, as the dice gods set him up for failure with a swift string of unlucky attacks failing to hit or do damage before the seemingly invulnerable dragon decided to devour him, ending the first round of combat with him ingested.

Now the tiny bobcat found himself clumsily clutching for his dice in the dim darkness of the dungeon master’s digestive tract, as she completed the phase by sending him down to her stomach with a smooth gulp.  His movements in the inky dankness bumbling and clumsy, as he meekly splashed in the putrid pool he had been plunged into. The sweltering depths seeming to cement his situation, as this role play got a little too realistic for comfort.  The muggy gastric juices coming up to his navel, soaking his clothes, but for now, it thankfully wasn’t burning yet.  Even so, the thought of the enzymes beginning to bite was enough to make an uncomfortable itch creep under his drool-matted fur.

His hands trembling as he blindly reached for the sticky hard candy d20 that had plopped down the gullet in his slipstream. The boiled sweet already softening against his fingers, as it was clear it wasn’t made to hold up well once immersed in acrid stomach juices.  This revelation putting an ominously ticking timer on how long he had left to stew in this ominously gurgling gut, as he grasped the dissolving icosahedron, and with a nervous toss he tried to make his Con save.  The polyhedron striking the bubbling broth he was soaking in like a stone, sinking out of sight for a moment before bobbing back to the surface with a disappointing 7, which to his horror was way lower than what he needed to extract himself from the hellish depths.

Sheepishly he reported his weak result to the rest of his party, who seemed rather understanding given his 1 in 20 chances of actually succeeding. His first thought maybe being that one of the other members of his party might assist him in upping his relatively low odds of hitting a crit, but from the muffled voices he could make out, it was clear they were more focused on slaying the dragon than extracting him from its belly. Thankfully hits seemed to be landing, allowing him to mentally count the damage the dragon had suffered, allowing a little metagaming to clue him in on how much fight the dragon had left. Off the top of his head, an adult dragon had something like 20 hit dice, so he knew if the party put the pressure on they should be able to do the 260 or so damage necessary to vanquish the fire-breathing beast, before he was churned into a gruesome chyme.

For now, though, his pocket of stale atmosphere seemed to be holding steady, even if the oppressive churning of the sour sack he was trapped in seemed to be getting ever more claustrophobic. His turn coming around fast enough though, and with another roll, he got a disappointing 11, as the flurry of blows to the dragon failed to make his escape any easier.   The next round ending with a 4, then a 14, the dice continuing to mock him even as the numbers etched in its surface began to erode into barely legible squiggles. This didn’t stop him from rolling again, only to be cruelly disappointed yet again.

The dragon at this point still had more than half its hit points, as in cruel hindsight it seemed they might have been a little under levelled to fight the game's synonymous monster. He lost the dice the next time he rolled, taking what felt like an eternity to find it, but again he had rolled a useless 9, leaving him no closer to being regurgitated. His heart failing to sink from his throat when he shakily found the thing, as he began to feel worryingly light-headed. The amount of oxygen he had to work with drawing slim, as in all the excitement Zoe seemed to have forgotten to renew his dwindling air. He hadn’t lost hope yet, as there was still time for his luck to turn around,  even if he could feel his strength sapping in real-time. Jacob wallowing helplessly as he heard the muffled clatter of dice indicating another successful hit, though the sound was stifled by the groan of the gut encapsulating him. A couple more minutes and he was going to start getting worried, but for now, he was fairly confident Zoe was going to let him out and not digest him…… right?

...........................

A game of dungeons and dragons takes a digestive detour when Jacob fails a devour check. Now he is on a ticking timer until his candy dice melt, as if he cant make the roll in time he will meet his digestive end in a dragons digestive tract...

A story done for my Patron  justanothermeal who wanted a story to go with a piece they got from  scottglass 's girlfriend. I was told that if you would like to comm them you can reach out to Scott. This piece features a rabbit DM devouring one of her players to add a element of realism to the dragon encounter...

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