The impression was made on me: Conan was a guy that meant business, and it was at this point that I asked him if there was anything I could do for him. He mentioned this beast, named "Vistrix". He described Vistrix to me: winged, scaly skin, hot breath, horns, fierce, man-eating, and so forth. I looked back at Conan quite puzzled and I was wondering why he couldn't just say "Dragon", but fearing another back-hand to the face I restrained myself and allowed his majesty to outline the task he wished me to carry-out. Okay, get a bunch of my friends together, journey through icy plains of Cimmeria until you come into King Atzel's realm, look for a guy called Kurtz along the way, and he'll tell me where Vistrix likes to chew the fat. Sounds easy enough, and Conan even promised me some special booty (not the fleshy type... unfortunately, I mean, those concubines! Hubba-hubba!) as a prize for slaying the dragon, oh, I mean "the winged, scaly-sknned, hot-breathed, horned, fierce, man-eating beast".

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After travelling to the Lacheish Plains, where my brethren call "home", we set-out to King Atzel's realm, following Conan's directions to the letter, speaking to Kurtz, and finally discovering the location of Vistrix's lair. Much to our surprise, however, was the difficulty in gaining access to the entrance of this beast's domain. It required a bit of climbing-work, and fortunately I was skilled enough to get down to a sensible gradation, but for my friends, to their misfortune they did not have the skill to attempt such an obstacle. What solution did us on the ground have to offer our friends aloft? Well, you know that song "It's raining men"? Yeah, you don't need to be an alchemist to figure out what my brethren did. To our advantage, we had a number of priestly figures learned in the ways of Set, Mitra and other shamanistic incantations, so it wasn't long before they were turning puddles of fleshy goo into something that resembled a Hyborian again.

Our fearless raid leader set down the ground rules; he had to speak slowly and clearly as we had a blend of cultures with us, and not to mention those Barbarians are about as bright as a torch in a pond. Clearing out the wyrms was a simple task: let the heavier-clad soldiers go and get their attention and bring them back, one by one if possible, to the rest of the group where we would begin redefine what the word "pain" meant to these horrid creatures (the Barbarians simply drooled and smashed away). To cut a long story short: we eventually made our way to Vistrix's lair, were given another run-down on tackling this beast, and finally prepared ourselves to spend the next few hours nudging and tweaking our strategy to see if we could down this dragon (Yes, Conan's not around to back-hand me anymore).

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