I did this for a fun and as writing exercise. Just a little scrap of what floats around in my head (I’m still thinking about that Kobold campaign…).
Visk was tumbling through the air, thousands of feet above ground. The little kobold tried to orient himself, and after a couple seconds wound up on his back watching the shiny crystal ship growing ever further away in the sky above him. It looked almost like a fireworks display as magic of all kinds and colors went off in every direction, and large silvery dragons continually dove and attacked the ship, the superheated plasma from their dragonsbreath spraying everywhere. Visk prayed to the dragons that they would kill off those pesky mages, and then flipped himself over so he could see the ground rushing up to meet him. He wondered how he managed to ever get into this unsurvivable position. But hey, there were worse ways to die, and Visk new they’d be telling his story amongst the clan for generations at least. He closed his eyes and pretended he was free falling into a pile of gold. He impacted into the desert with a metallic thud, leaving a small crater in the sand and bits of armor scattered around. There was no civilization in sight on the horizon in any direction, and even the sound of the fighting on the ship so far above couldn’t reach down and disturb the hot desert silence. Visk’s allies on the ship didn’t even know he was gone.