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For aeons, your lineage ruled the surface world. Your reign was so long that none can say when it started, or how many phases of mystical and technological advancement rose and fell, laying geological strata one over another in layers upon layers of glorious history. Slit pupils watched as gods and kings rose and fell, and the world was shaped to your will. It was not an age of reptiles, but rather multiple ages, such as to make the briefness of the current mammalian reign look like a single flicker of your nictating membrane.

And in that era, that bygone Age of Scales, even kings had kings… The Dragons.

A dragon is no mere overgrown lizard, no treasure-hoarding kidnapper of princesses, as the surface-filth slander them. They were titanic, almost divine—demigodly philosopher kings who blacked out stars with their wingspans and rose over mountains in their majesties. They were wise beyond wisdom, powerful beyond comprehension, totally complete in their dominance. They were kings of the world not by some genealogical dictate, or even by the whims of fate or the weight of pooling battle-blood. They ruled as by default, by self-evident right, by their very nature. To be Dragon IS to be a lord of creation itself.

But the Age of Scales, the Age of Dragons, has passed into myth, legend, and nightmare, and beyond even that remembrance and into the simple, toothless fable which mammals tell their whelps to bring comfort instead of righteous fear. They have forgotten the sight and sound of the ones who once towered over their tallest citadels, shaming their wisest mages and extracting tribute from their fiercest warlords. They no longer remember the Fearsome Presence…

But you will remind them. You are their scion, their legacy made flesh!

Deep beneath the earth, you were hatched: a reptilian champion born from the Fleshweavers’ best efforts to bring forth those lingering dragons of dragonfire in the blood of the Reptilian Nobility, and to thus revive the great kings of old. In many ways, they succeeded—though you are yet young, you loom over most adult males. Your recessive traits have been brought to the fore, granting you a noble and draconic visage and wicked talons meant to crush the morale of foes and rip their tattered pride from their bleeding backs. Your skin is armour, your breath the primordial eruption of a volcano. Even those in the Serpent Priesthood, highest-honoured of your noble Master Race, struggle to hold your gaze.

You were trained from birth for a purpose: to rally the faithful, the loyal, the scattered nations of scalykind; to remind the mammals of the past which shall be future; to carry the banner of the Dark Gods Below and Beyond! Where the hairy, degenerate races of the surface put their faith in their weak and puny ‘Gods of Light’ and their pathetic ‘Paladins’, the Master Race puts its faith in you!

You are a DRAGONBORN ANTIPALADIN!
>>
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>>5265023
You awake as you always do from your deep torpor, emerging from the blackness of rest into the blackness of the World Below. Here, you have spent your entire life. Reptilian Infiltrators are deployed from such places, glimpse the stolen world above or inhabit it in false guises… But Amulets of Disguise can only do so much, and your prestigious birth has made it so that there is no inconspicuous way to hide your draconic glory, and very places you can infiltrate. It is a wondrous, enviable thing… Or so you are told.

In truth, if you dreamed, you suspect you would dream on sunlight, and the breeze, and of food beyond greyish meet and brackish mushrooms harvested from underground bogs.

Well, all things in due time, when the stars are right and the Great Design provides for them. For now, you do as you always do:

>You attend the chapel, and say your prayers to the Dark Gods [Specialization: Dark Templar]
+1 Religion, +1 Willpower, a skill tree involving smiting infidels and demons and healing
>You head to the fighting pits, to hone your skills in private before the rabble enter [Specialization: Black Knight]
+1 Melee, +1 Intimidation, a skill tree involving brutal oppression and resilience to rebellion
>You get some food and drink, and pass by the breeding pits to ogle the flesh therein [Specialization: Blackguard]
+1 Stealth, +1 Persuasion, a skill tree involving underhanded diplomacy and backstabbing
>You study the old tomes of past glory, in history and tactics, and dream of your first battle [Specialization: Warlord]
+1 Leadership, +1 History, a skill-tree involving rallying forces and commanding battles
>You pay a visit to your oldest friend, and perhaps the only being here who understands you [Specialization: Dragon Shaman]
+1 Spellcraft, +1 Reptilian Empathy, a skill-tree involving connecting with your roots and becoming the dragon you were meant to be
>Write-in [may veto if implausible]
???
[Keep in mind: your heritage has already granted you a bonus to melee combat, athleticism, intimidation, and fire-breath]
>>
>>5265024
>You get some food and drink, and pass by the breeding pits to ogle the flesh therein [Specialization: Blackguard]

I'd find it really funny if we were a dragonborn who was devoted to intrigue rather than bashing people's face in.
>>
>>5265024
>You pay a visit to your oldest friend, and perhaps the only being here who understands you [Specialization: Dragon Shaman]
I'd go in for Black Knight if others like that better, though.
>>
>>5265024
>You get some food and drink, and pass by the breeding pits to ogle the flesh therein [Specialization: Blackguard]
An empire ruled by the fist is an empire made of glass!!!
>>
>>5265024
>You get some food and drink, and pass by the breeding pit to oggle at the flesh there[Specialization: Blackguard]
rallying all the reptiles in secret before taking over the world sounds fun
>>
>>5265024
>>You attend the chapel, and say your prayers to the Dark Gods [Specialization: Dark Templar]
>>
>>5265024
>You attend the chapel, and say your prayers to the Dark Gods [Specialization: Dark Templar]

Rally the faithful, smite the infidels, soothe the wounded zealots, bring forth the Great Design!
>>
>>5265024
>You attend the chapel, and say your prayers to the Dark Gods [Specialization: Dark Templar]
>>
>>5265038
>You attend the chapel, and say your prayers to the Dark Gods [Specialization: Dark Templar]
Swapping my vote to counteract the diplomancer menace.
>>
>>5265024
>>You pay a visit to your oldest friend, and perhaps the only being here who understands you [Specialization: Dragon Shaman]
>>
>>5265071
Come back to Shaman, you know you want to.
>>
I would switch to Shaman if it means dark Templar doesn't win. Templar's my least favorite option to be honest. I'll change my vote to both.

>You get some food and drink, and pass by the breeding pits to ogle the flesh therein [Specialization: Blackguard]

>You pay a visit to your oldest friend, and perhaps the only being here who understands you [Specialization: Dragon Shaman]
>>
>>5265081
I mean, I do want to...

>>5265071
>You pay a visit to your oldest friend, and perhaps the only being here who understands you [Specialization: Dragon Shaman]
>>
>>5265024
Actually, I'll change my vote to Dragon Shaman, I had a change of heart. Though I may change back since I don't want blackguard to win as it seems too similar to the previous quest.

>You pay a visit to your oldest friend, and perhaps the only being here who understands you [Specialization: Dragon Shaman]
>>
>>5265024
>>You study the old tomes of past glory, in history and tactics, and dream of your first battle [Specialization: Warlord]
>>
>>5265024
>You pay a visit to your oldest friend, and perhaps the only being here who understands you [Specialization: Dragon Shaman
>>
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Blackguard
>>5265035
>>5265039
>>5265041
>>5265084 (multiclass)

Dragon Shaman
>>5265080
>>5265084 (multiclass)
>>5265113
>>5265118
>>5265157

Dark Templar
>>5265043
>>5265052
>>5265070

Warlord
>>5265126

[Locking for Dragon Shaman, but you may multiclass someday.]
>>
>>5265024
>You pay a visit to your oldest friend, and perhaps the only being here who understands you [Specialization: Dragon Shaman]
>>
>>5265190
Dragon Shaman chads stay winning!
>>
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>>5265190

You pay a visit to your oldest friend, and perhaps the only being here who understands you: the OTHER Dragonborn, the first of your number.

In truth, there are thus far only the two of you, and (to your knowledge) no other true dragons. Some Reptilian clans claim descent from the Red Dragon of old, sovereign of the Bloodrise Mountains—it is from such a lineage that you derive your own claim to draconic greatness—but most have little to show for it but red scales, bony scutes, and a massive ego worthy of being second only to the Serpent Priests. However, the other Dragonborn is something else… Something greater, something indeed OTHER. As Reptilians are to kobolds, and lizardmen, this Dragonborn is to them! Perhaps, for now, even to you.

“Frrrriend…”

The voice rumbles through the corridors like an earthquake, shaking the very stones as your old friend—almost a big brother—senses your approach. You feel the usual swell of pride at being called such, for no other bears such an honour. But then, you are kin to the Great One in a way none of them are, for though you descend from different draconic lineages—he is scion to The Great Green Dragon who once rules forests and plains—you are unique specimens of true, natural royalty.

“FRIEND! I KNNNEW! ISSS YOU!”

The declaration is such a powerful boom that the sound—and the accompanying waft of acidic, forge-hot breath—nearly knocks you off your feet. You plant them, braving the welcome which always accompanies your visits to The Great One’s chamber. There, The Great Green Dragon’s sole living heir reclines in a natural repose on a well-worn outcropping carved into the stone, replete with finely-detailed carvings depicted conquests past and victories yet to come. Silkscale females, the most sinuous and subtle of the sex and species, attend to their glorious guest’s every need, bringing him fresh flesh-on-the-bone.

>Blackguard second-place finish has gifted (and cursed) you with Appetite

You eye the harem and the ham-hocks alike with great hunger, catching a few intrigued glances back but far more flickers of fear and hastily-averted eyes. These females are, of course, all the sole possession of The Great One… For all the good it will do him. You look up and up his body, to the gleaming grin and shining yellow eyes of The Green Dragonborn—that which some would call the only TRUE Dragonborn, until such time as his clutch of younger siblings hatch until the careful ministrations of the Fleshweavers who created you all. You may be a mighty marvel, but the Green Dragonborn is a mountainous miracle, easily three times your height and at least six or seven times your weight, with massive, powerful wings and a true aura of Fearsome Presence that once shook even your bones.

Which is to say, he couldn’t mate with one of the females here even if both he and they were in season—not without utterly destroying her in the process. A pitiable waste.
>>
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>>5265228
>>5265194
>>5265198

“Yes,” you reply to your elder brother, “it is me. Your friend, Great One.”

“Hrrrr,” the Great One purrs happily, partly in reply to you and partly in response to one of his ‘mates’ wielding a great, bristly implement to clean his back. “You come to com-mune?”

The simplistic, stuttering speech of The Great One troubles some, you know, who see it as a sign of some mental deformity—something to eliminate in successive generations of The Dragonborn Project…

>Reptilian Empathy

But you and he, you understand each other on a deeper level, beyond the need for the medium of speech. In body language, in his aura. You have the gift of a king’s deep understanding of his real’s subjects, and a king’s command. Like The Great One, you can commune with reptiles great and small to varying degrees, taming or influencing them with your will, without the need for language. In your meditations with one another, you strengthen this aura, such that you are able to, with a grunt and a turn of your head, beckon one of the females to you. She brings you a glass of still-warm mammal-blood to warm your gullet, and settles upon your lap to warm you otherwise while you and The Great One discuss without discussing.

In these communion with your older brother, it is not just your Reptilian Empathy which you strengthen, but your command of the elements. Over the last few months, you have found your souls settling upon a deep commonality between the two of you—a hidden truth at the heart of what it is to be Dragon, hidden in your blood.

It is…
>Tooth & Scale: A dragon is strong, inside and out, and resilient against all things, and when you wield your magecraft you can give yourself (or a touched ally) that same resilience against physical and elemental forces for a short time; hardened claws and teeth can penetrate weak defences more easily, also
>Fire: A dragon’s flame is its essence, the core of what it is to be Dragon, even more than the body; your firebreath is always at your disposal, so long as you are fed and rested, but you can wield flames as more than just a huff and puff, instead hurling long-distance fireballs or setting a weapon (yours or an ally’s) ablaze for a brief period
>Wings: You are without wings, but you can feel the potential for them within you… Waiting to take you high, to view the world from the pinnacle of a creation as a true Dragon king must; you can grant yourself the ability to leap, soar, and maybe one day even to truly fly high above everything that is on natural wings
>Write-in [Must be reasonable, may be modified]
>>
>>5265233
>Fire: A dragon’s flame is its essence, the core of what it is to be Dragon, even more than the body; your firebreath is always at your disposal, so long as you are fed and rested, but you can wield flames as more than just a huff and puff, instead hurling long-distance fireballs or setting a weapon (yours or an ally’s) ablaze for a brief period
>>
>>5265190
>just saw this pop up
>already locked on Dragon Shaman
Welcome back RQM, I see you’re already blitzing though this vote.

>>5265024
>You get some food and drink, and pass by the breeding pits to ogle the flesh therein [Specialization: Blackguard]
If it even matters. This is mainly for the persuasion, though becoming a Dragonborn Robin Hood would be quite amusing. Shame anons almost universally ignored Warlord, Dragonborn Hannibal would’ve been fucking balling to play as.

Guess I just got to embrace the Cheeselife then…
>>
>>5265233
>Wings: You are without wings, but you can feel the potential for them within you… Waiting to take you high, to view the world from the pinnacle of a creation as a true Dragon king must; you can grant yourself the ability to leap, soar, and maybe one day even to truly fly high above everything that is on natural wings

All true dragon-kin must fly!
>>
>>5265237
>Welcome back RQM, I see you’re already blitzing though this vote.
[Needed the distraction. That said, while I wanted to get a speedy start to the action, don't expect every vote to be this fast. One or two a day is probably all I have in me, and unlike last quest, one may be the norm.]

>If it even matters
[Blackguard's second place and the multiclass possibility may be a boon to you, then. We'll see!]
>>
>>5265233
>updates in the middle of me writing my post
Lol
>Fire: A dragon’s flame is its essence, the core of what it is to be Dragon, even more than the body; your firebreath is always at your disposal, so long as you are fed and rested, but you can wield flames as more than just a huff and puff, instead hurling long-distance fireballs or setting a weapon (yours or an ally’s) ablaze for a brief period
Become Dragonborn Zuko, eventually learn how to redirect lightning. Having a latent flying ability would be kino, but naturally controlling fire sounds more awesome.

>>5265244
Itching to get to the action already? This will certainly be interesting.
>>
>>5265233
>Fire: A dragon’s flame is its essence, the core of what it is to be Dragon, even more than the body; your firebreath is always at your disposal, so long as you are fed and rested, but you can wield flames as more than just a huff and puff, instead hurling long-distance fireballs or setting a weapon (yours or an ally’s) ablaze for a brief period


Should I check out reptilian infiltrator? I kinda gave up on it after the whole becoming a prostitute thing.
>>
>>5265274
Do it. Focus on the quest though, avoid the autism.
>>
>>5265233
>Wings: You are without wings, but you can feel the potential for them within you… Waiting to take you high, to view the world from the pinnacle of a creation as a true Dragon king must; you can grant yourself the ability to leap, soar, and maybe one day even to truly fly high above everything that is on natural wings
>>
>>5265233
>>Wings: You are without wings, but you can feel the potential for them within you… Waiting to take you high, to view the world from the pinnacle of a creation as a true Dragon king must; you can grant yourself the ability to leap, soar, and maybe one day even to truly fly high above everything that is on natural wings
>>
>>5265233
>>Wings: You are without wings, but you can feel the potential for them within you… Waiting to take you high, to view the world from the pinnacle of a creation as a true Dragon king must; you can grant yourself the ability to leap, soar, and maybe one day even to truly fly high above everything that is on natural wings
>>
>>5265233
>Fire: A dragon’s flame is its essence, the core of what it is to be Dragon, even more than the body; your firebreath is always at your disposal, so long as you are fed and rested, but you can wield flames as more than just a huff and puff, instead hurling long-distance fireballs or setting a weapon (yours or an ally’s) ablaze for a brief period
>>
>>5265233
>>Fire: A dragon’s flame is its essence, the core of what it is to be Dragon, even more than the body; your firebreath is always at your disposal, so long as you are fed and rested, but you can wield flames as more than just a huff and puff, instead hurling long-distance fireballs or setting a weapon (yours or an ally’s) ablaze for a brief period
>>
>>5265233
>>Wings: You are without wings, but you can feel the potential for them within you… Waiting to take you high, to view the world from the pinnacle of a creation as a true Dragon king must; you can grant yourself the ability to leap, soar, and maybe one day even to truly fly high above everything that is on natural wings
>>
[We have a tie game! I'll hold the vote open until tonight, when I'll for it if we're still tied.]
>>
>>5265233
>>Wings: You are without wings, but you can feel the potential for them within you… Waiting to take you high, to view the world from the pinnacle of a creation as a true Dragon king must; you can grant yourself the ability to leap, soar, and maybe one day even to truly fly high above everything that is on natural wings
We're destined to stand at the top, let's make it literal
>>
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DRAGON SHAMAN CHADS TAKE THE DUB
>Wings
mfw ppl saw picrel, (maybe) read the quest & thought "yes, this is a rogue build"
>>
>>5265236
>>5265238
>>5265250
>>5265274
>>5265346
>>5265388
>>5265452
>>5265554
>>5265561
>>5265649
>>5265676
>>5265690
You slide your nictitating membrane shut, clench your jaw, and focus—FOCUS. You can just about make out the shape of them, of wings, YOUR wings, your ancestors’ wings, the platonic IDEAL of wings. They are tremendous, majestic, the mark of true Royalty! If you could only master and manifest them, they would truly be the the one mark of nobility which no mere Reptilian could match, nor deny…

“Somehow I knew that I would find you here, False Dragonborn.”

…Not even a Reptilian like this one.

You exhale slowly, standing up and sending the Silkscale female tumbling from your lap with nary a thought. It hardly matters anyway—she is not in heat, nor are you, so the exercise in dominance was hardly going to go any further. You even attempt to explain as much, but this newest female to enter the chamber is having none of it… And, as a daughter of a Serpent Priest, she has no obligation to defer to you.
>>
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>>5265752
“A likely story, but who knows what perversion your mammalian blood enables,” she mocks you, “oh Dragonborn Degenerate.”

When you were younger, smaller, such jibes were not uncommon. As with all creations of the Fleshweavers’ Dragonborn Project, your Reptilian and Draconic bloodlines were enmeshed together with the curiously-plastic materials harvested from surface-mammals, such as the ‘humans’. This technically makes you, and perhaps even The Green Dragonborn, what your people term ‘Degenerates’: Reptilian-human hybrids. There are still elders (and even those of your generation) who view the creation of such beings as heretical, unnatural, and affront to the Dark Gods Below and Beyond. As the Green Dragonborn grew in magnificence, it became difficult for those voices of protest to be heard over the veneration of the hopeful and worshipful, and they turns their scorn upon you instead—smaller, weaker, wingless, and with the stigmatic mane of hair which shamefully sprouts from your scalp behind a crown of thorny, horn-like scutes.

You look down at one such bully now. This female, with her lithe and snake-like form, her long neck, bluish skin, and dark black eyes, bears all the marks of that highest caste among the Reptilian Master Race: a Serpent Priest. To them, even you and the Great One must defer. And yet… She is female, and thus (naturally) inferior to a male of her subrace. Despite this, she has never been shy about her harassment of you—not even when you hit your growth spurt and began to put the Fearsome Presence into your other youthful tormentors. She seems fearless in many ways, you note, even to the point of wearing the red-and-red hooded cloak of a Fleshweaver’s novice apprentice—a venerated, all-MALE profession among the Serpent Priests—despite her youth and sex. You have heard that

“What do you want?” you ask.

“I am merely observing you as you overcompensate,” the Novice says smoothly, “so I may determine how to avoid such deviance and deformity when I am part of the Dragonborn Project myself, oh False One.”

How do you reply?
>“Please do not call me that, Serpent Priestess. You know I do not like it.” [deference]
>“Bold words from a crossdresser with delusions of grandeur.” [vitriol]
>“Perhaps you are merely waiting for me to call YOU to sit upon my lap instead?” [flirtation]
>Say nothing, and return to your meditations—you won’t let her goad you again [stoicism]
>>
>>5265760
>“Perhaps you are merely waiting for me to call YOU to sit upon my lap instead?” [flirtation]
>>
>>5265760
>Say nothing, and return to your meditations—you won’t let her goad you again [stoicism]

Based Shaman chad.
>>
>>5265760
>“Perhaps you are merely waiting for me to call YOU to sit upon my lap instead?” [flirtation]
>>
>>5265760
will support either
>“Bold words from a crossdresser with delusions of grandeur.” [vitriol]
or
>Say nothing, and return to your meditations—you won’t let her goad you again [stoicism]
>>
>>5265760

>>“Please do not call me that, Serpent Priestess. You know I do not like it.” [deference]
>>
>>5265760
>“Please do not call me that, Serpent Priestess. You know I do not like it.” [deference]
>>
>>5265760
I'll switch to this stoicism is for pussies

>“Perhaps you are merely waiting for me to call YOU to sit upon my lap instead?” [flirtation]

>“Please do not call me that, Serpent Priestess. You know I do not like it.” [deference]
>>
>>5265760
>>Say nothing, and return to your meditations—you won’t let her goad you again [stoicism]
begone
>>
>>5265760
>“Perhaps you are merely waiting for me to call YOU to sit upon my lap instead?” [flirtation]
>>
>>5265760
>“Perhaps you are merely waiting for me to call YOU to sit upon my lap instead?” [flirtation]

Can’t really phantom why you would still have a keen interest with me after all these years, Serpent Priestess, other than desire. How quite… mammalian.
>>
>>5265848
+1
Coomers begone.

>>5265914
>I'll switch to this stoicism is for pussies
>Chooses the cucked option
???
>>
>>5265760
>“Bold words from a crossdresser with delusions of grandeur.” [vitriol]
>>
>>5265975
It's easier to fool someone than to convince them they have been fooled. Such is the life of a cuck.
>>
>>5265975
Hey, I just switched to deference because it looked like it was going to be in second place. I just don’t want stoicism to win. Every stoic character I’ve seen has always turned out to be a mute pussy that’s not fun to play. I’d be fine if vitriol won too.
>>
>>5265760
>She seems fearless in many ways, you note, even to the point of wearing the red-and-red hooded cloak of a Fleshweaver’s novice apprentice—a venerated, all-MALE profession among the Serpent Priests—despite her youth and sex. You have heard that

What is it we've heard?

>“Bold words from a crossdresser with delusions of grandeur.” [vitriol]
>>
>>5265989
>deference, humiliating yourself in front of an egotistical bitch
>not mute pussy
KEK
Besides, RQM would find a way to make even someone like (You) fun to play as, delusional cuck or not.
>>
>>Say nothing, and return to your meditations—you won’t let her goad you again [stoicism].

Ignore delusional thots obtain spiritual gains.
>>
I’ll change my vote to this

>Vitriol
>Flirtation
>>
>>5266087
>What is it we've heard?
[Oops]

>>5265760
You have heard that she, through a combination of her father's prestige and her own ambition and unconventional theorizing, she has made quite the impression among the other initiates.
>>
>>5266184
She’s a nepotism baby?
>>
>>5265760
>>5265768

>“Bold words from a crossdresser with delusions of grandeur.” [vitriol]

Since RepQM is here I guess they want to update so in the interest of that I’ll break the tie.
>>
>>5265760
>“Perhaps you are merely waiting for me to call YOU to sit upon my lap instead?” [flirtation]
lol, look at all these incels thinking flirting with the bitch means cooming. This will clearly infuriate her instead of seducing her.
>>
>>5265760
>Say nothing, and return to your meditations—you won’t let her goad you again [stoicism]
or
>“Bold words from a crossdresser with delusions of grandeur.” [vitriol]
>>
>>5266197
In a caste system, everyone is. It's just a matter of if that nepotism is genetically justifiable.
>>
>>5266203
[I'm still at work. I was just checking in.]
>>
>>5265760
>“Perhaps you are merely waiting for me to call YOU to sit upon my lap instead?” [flirtation]
>>
>>5266232
Nevermind then. Back to flirting.
>“Perhaps you are merely waiting for me to call YOU to sit upon my lap instead?” [flirtation]
>>
>>5266203
Bold of you believe that anons aren't looking forward to getting their tails inside whatever lizard equivalent of her glory hole.
>>
>>5266319
>>5266313
>>5266228
>>5266211
>>5266167
>>5266163
>>5266087
>>5265979
>>5265948
>>5265930
>>5265928
>>5265909
>>5265875
>>5265848
>>5265768
>>5265764
>>5265762
"Bold words," you say, "from a crossdresser with delusions of grandeur."

The Novice stares for a moment, surprised at the quick retort and at your calm demeanour. Then, her tail whips the ground with a crack and thump, as if bracing for battle, and she lifts her elegant head high above her shoulders in regal posture, eyes narrowed imperiously.

"Oh?" The Novice shoots back. "Are these the fabled flames of the Dragonborn which now sear me? They are tepid at best."

You shrug, unbothered, and say: "You seem a touch deviant yourself. You are almost mammalian yourself, in your obsession, oh Superior One. After all, I truly cannot fathom why you still trouble me after all these years if you AREN'T interested in me in some 'perverse' fashion. Why do you linger here?”

“A professional curiosity for the morbid and deformed,” she sneers.

“Or perhaps you’re simply hoping I will invite YOU into my lap next?”

You sit back down, and the Novice rears back, shocked and affronted at the implication.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ she taunts, though you sense a degree of admiration for how well you have conducted yourself in this exchange.

“I live to serve the Serpent Priesthood,” you reply, as stoic as ever, the blade of your irony hidden in a sheathe of deadpan delivery and obviously-insincere deference.

The Green Dragonborn chortles, delighted by the exchange, while the Novice quietly seethes, unable to summon a snappy rejoinder.

“Now, if there is nothing else I can help with…”

You close your eyes, preparing to resume your meditations.

“Actually…”

You sigh in annoyance as your childhood ‘companion’ speaks up once more. You are about ready to risk her father’s displeasure by outright telling her to begone, when her next words stop you short.

“…My father has issued a summons for you, oh Witty One.”

“The Chaplain summons me?” you ask, startled. You can’t imagine what you’d have done to warrant either reprimand or commendation—you have been keeping to yourself in your elder brother’s sanctum, for the most part. Did he hear of your peeking-in at the breeding pits last week?

“It’s about a mission,” The Novice whispers, drawing close so as not to be overheard. “A mission on the surface.

[Flirtation had only a slight lead over stoicism and vitriol, so I endeavoured to reflect them all in the exchange. More to come when I get home!]
>>
>Everything but deference
Alpha as fuck. Take that, cuck "roleplayers"
>>
>>5266474
Your imagination is aflame during the entirety of your journey to the place where the Chaplain and other high-ranking Serpent Priests hold their dark rites. A mission! The surface! You have only ever known the World Below, the half-hollow husk of your ancestors’ proud legacy, muted in colour for lack of light and the monochrome nature of your Darkvision. You have heard whispered tales of the sights and sounds, delights and delicacies, which await those who travel upwards to the Stolen Lands…

But what could you have been called upon to do up there? It cannot be infiltration, can it?

“Kobolds?” you repeat.

“Yes,” the Chaplain replies, “kobolds.”

You half-kneel, head bowed slightly, before the Serpent Priest called Chaplain here, in your people’s most northerly forward base. He wears the stone-black, white-embroidered robes and golden, cobra-like headdress which befits his station. The Novice, his daughter kneels beside you and mirrors your posture, though the Chaplain addresses only you. You are within the Star Chamber, so-called for the gem-studded ceiling, faintly illuminated by ensconced torches to glow in replica of the stars above. Ingenious engineering once allowed them to be rotated, you are told, moving with the night sky above; centuries of entropy and neglect have relegated the Priesthood to simply cross-referencing with seasonal charts to determine when the stars are right.

It is an auspicious amphitheatre to be allocated such an inauspicious assignment.

A band of kobolds has begun to cause trouble, you are told, in the northwesternmost foothills of the Bloodrise Mountain range, which skirts the coast and sweeps down into the hot southern climes. Normally, such trouble is ignored, or even subtly encouraged and directed to weaken the filthy mammal-men, but apparently the trouble these kobolds are causing is less pleasing than the usual sort. They dig deep and plumb ruins which belong to the Master Race alone, you are told, and not to slaves. They draw attention from the mammals to these sacred sepulchres with their rapacious raids, and they grow strong and proud in a manner ill-befitting them.

“Forward scouts speak of heresy,” The Chaplain tells you. “Of these whelps turning their back on the Dark Gods, and proclaiming that a new power gives them greater strength. It is insult.”

“Yes,” you acknowledge. “They must be punished.”

Still… It’s KOBOLDS. They are pitiful little creatures, barely worthy of being called Reptilian at all—essentially serving as the lowliest and most expendable labourers to the sovereigns of old. Is this really worthy of a Dragonborn?
>>
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>>5266565
“Am I to travel alone?” you ask, instead.

“No,” the Chaplain replies. “You will be allotted a small retinue. You are a valuable asset, to be preserved.”

That buoys your ego a little. Then, the female beside you speaks up, surprising you both.

“My Chaplain,” she says, deferring even more than is proper by acknowledging his title before his familiar relationship to her, “may I number among them?”

“I think not,” The Chaplain says, after a pause.

The Novice surprises you again, by speaking out of turn and without any deference at all, saying “But such a mission all but requires a Serpent Priest!”

“You are NOT a Priest, but a Sister—not even Priestess yet, in truth,” The Chaplain reprimands her. “You have studies to attend to here, and an inexperienced female offers little that a more seasoned male does not.”

“I have excelled at the mending of wouns, the neutralizing of poisons and venoms, and the study of—”

“ENOUGH.” The Chaplain slams down his snake-headed staff with finality, silencing even this overly-ambitious daughter of his…

But even so, she looks to you, with a tinge of desperation. It occurs to you that she, too, has surely never seen the sky.

What do you do?
>Accept the assignment with gratitude and, despite the pathetic quarry, excitement to see the surface
>Ask further questions about the assignment ahead [such as?]
>Express your discontent with the nature of this mission
>Request material aid [such as?]

Do you speak up on behalf of The Novice?
>Yes, out of empathy
>Yes, out of a desire for her skills and knowledge
>Yes, because you wish to flex your authority and to have her indebted to you
>Yes, because bantering with her was actually quite fun
>No, because you want a more experienced Serpent Priest
>No, to spite her
>>
[Oh, and unless states otherwise, write-ins are allowed by default]
>>
>>5266566
>Ask further questions about the assignment ahead- what mammals are in the area to be concerned about? If you could marshal the Kobolds to proper deference, what "bonus objectives" are in the area?

>Request material aid- a worthy weapon beyond your claws and a token of the Serpent Priests, to cow the Kobolds into submission

>Yes, because you wish to flex your authority and to have her indebted to you, and her ambition could prove useful should she be properly made to serve you
>>
>>5266566
>>Accept the assignment with gratitude and, despite the pathetic quarry, excitement to see the surface
This is just the first step towards greatness. Speaking up against it wouldn't be bold, it would be stupid.

>>5266570
Also supporting these add-ons.

>No, to spite her
BEGONE
THOT
>>
>>5266566
>Accept the assignment with gratitude and, despite the pathetic quarry, excitement to see the surface
>Yes, because bantering with her was actually quite fun
>>
>>5266566
>Accept the assignment with gratitude and, despite the pathetic quarry, excitement to see the surface

>Yes, because you wish to flex your authority and to have her indebted to you
>Yes, because bantering with her was actually quite fun
Both
>>
>>5266566
>Ask further questions about the assignment ahead [such as?]
How long would you expect the mission to take?

>Request material aid [such as?]
A tome to learn a new spell.

>Yes, out of empathy
>>
>>5266566
>Accept the assignment with gratitude and, despite the pathetic quarry, excitement to see the surface

>Yes, out of empathy and because you wish to flex your authority and to have her indebted to you.
It’s smart to start making political favors with the priesthood, and that’ll be our official reason. I mainly added empathy out of curiosity what the +1 Reptilian Empathy actually means as a skill.
>Secretly because bantering with her was actually quite fun
>>
>>5266674
+1
>>
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>>5266581
+1
Let's just nip the waifufag problem right in the bud now, I'd rather not deal with this shit later. It all leads into shitflinging and samefagging.
>>
>>5266690
>>5266674
>>5266617
>>5266590
>>5266585
>>5266581
>>5266570
>>5266695

You feel a spark of mirth at this turnabout—your childhood antagonist, the princess of this tiny fiefdom, looking to you for salvation from the very father whose high status she once lorded over you. Still… You have to admit, over the years your tête-à-têtes have slowly shifted from one-sided hostility to a proper skirmish of intellects and attitudes… And even one you’ve come to enjoy. Seeing a familiar yearning in her dark eyes, you cannot leave her to this sad fate.

“Holy One,” you address the Chaplain, “I believe that this novice may actually prove useful, after all. These ARE only kobolds that we face.”

The Chaplain glowers a little at your contradiction of his order, just as his spawn regards you with a gratitude that you internally glory in. Oh, certainly, your PRIMARY motivation was a peculiar camaraderie with your fellow young reptilian… But you can’t deny that it will ALSO be nice to have such a well-placed patsy indebted to you. Thus, you press on—and with a little twist of the knife, to remind her of her place.

“Perhaps the experience will teach her the value of tradition female virtues, such as obedience to a masculine authority.”

The Novice’s eyes widen, the narrow abruptly. You get the feeling she would be lambasting you with a whole series of searing insults, but you revel quietly in the knowledge that’s he cannot… Not without undermining the half-truth that will secure her participation in the adventure ahead.

“Very well,” her father complies, grudgingly. “I have other hatchlings, younger and with great potential as well—including a male, more suitable to be an heir. She should expect no more special privileges, however, should she fail in this.”

“I will not fail you, Fa—”

“I was speaking,” the Chaplain hisses, “to the Dragonborn.”

She goes quiet, and you stifle a laugh at her expense. Instead, you decide it prudent to ask some follow-up questions about what awaits you on the surface, and what is expected of you.

[More coming, but locking vote. A close one again, so I melded intentions as best I could.]
>>
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>>5266700
>What mammals are in the area to be concerned about?
“None—the self-satisfied slaves have, for all their whimpering weakness, managed to drive the mammals from their territory. However, the journey there poses risks. You will be traveling territory outside of our control, be it through old tunnels or lands above.”

“What dangers lie along each path?” you asked, excited at the chance to think strategically, and the prospect of proving yourself.

“Beneath the earth, the tunnels have become home to some sort of outcast elf,” the Chaplain answered vaguely. “They are magical little monkey-creatures, though these ones seems scrawnier and weaker than most. Our operatives who have spied them say that they are canny, though, with keen senses and a knack for hunting in darkness which exceeds what we know of their surface kin. They are said to have some sort of affinity for spiders and centipedes, and other crawling things.”

“Appropriate to a scrounging scavenger,” quips the Novice, quietly so as not to draw her father’s ire again, “to consort with like beings.”

“The surface world in this area is less known to us,” The Chaplain continues. “It will make for easier travel, but you will need to maintain secrecy. NO mammal-man of the surface may see you and live. It is NOT yet the time for open war, and to see an obvious dragon-spawn… It would rouse the very sort of attention we seek to avoid.”

“Woodlands are known to play host to bandits, where surfacer society INEVITABLY falls short and creates want,” the Novice adds quietly. “Goblinoids—a fast-breeding and aggressively unmagical variety of monkey-creature—are especially common in the area, I have read.”
>>
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>>5266710
>How long would you expect the mission to take?
“The journey may take as long as a week or two in each direction,” the Chaplain answers. “It will be faster overland, slower beneath.”

“The darkness offers safety,” the Novice says, “but the road aboveground is the choice of one who is bold, confident, and who does not cling to familiarity like a security-blanket.”

You can tell what option she hopes to goad you towards… But damned if it doesn’t sound like the more thrilling. Then again, those underground-elves could make for good sport as well, and you ARE more used to cave-fighting (insofar as you have ever actually fought at all).

>If you could marshal the Kobolds to proper deference, what "bonus objectives" are in the area?
“If you can rally the kobolds back to the cause,” the Chaplain notes, “they could prove useful agents in rea-appropriating the ill-gotten gains of the surface-dwelling, warm-blooded vermin who stole our ancestor’s riches. Useful scouts, pawns, and labourers…”

“They have plumbed our ancestors’ tombs, too,” the Novice notes eagerly. “Imagine what they might have found… What we might learn!”

She fails to maintain her quiet whisper for the sudden surge of scientific excitement, and her father’s withering gaze falls upon her again. She turns her eyes downward, though she yet grumbles in a most undeferential fashion.

>Request material aid- a worthy weapon beyond your claws and a token of the Serpent Priests, to cow the Kobolds into submission
>Request material aid, such as a tome to learn a new spell.

“You wish to study the mystic arts?” the Chaplain asks, seemingly surprised. “Are not your own natural weapons—your breath, your might—sufficient display of your favour?”

“These heretics may require a more obvious sign to cow them swiftly and regain compliance,” you suggest, “and anyway, knowledge is power—and so, to, are arms and armour.”

“Very well,” the Serpent Priest acquiesces readily enough. “You may choose a weapon, some armour, and requisition some tomes—but nothing of great value, lest it be lost to the enemy.”

The lack of faith in your victory stings a little, but you do not allow your resentment or greed to flare up, lest you lose the privilege.
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>>5266717
You and the Novice leave the room a short while later. The discussion of what lies ahead has you excited, despite yourself—and you can see that the female feels likewise.

“Imagine it!” she cries, as soon as you are out of earshot of her father. “We will see the stars—the stars beyond which dwell the furthest Dark Gods! We will taste the breeze through trees—TREES! We will see sights so few see, explore and discover ruins untouched in perhaps millenia…”

“WE will only do so,” you point out, “because -I- deigned to offer you my protection.”

“You expect gratitude?” she scoffs.

“I expect repayment,” you correct her, “or I will tell your father I have reconsidered, and found a better candidate for my field-medic after all.”

The Novice hisses furiously, but does not contradict you.

“Fine,” she mutters quietly. “You have my GRUDGING thanks, Fal—”

She draws a laboured breath, forcing herself to feign politeness.

“You have my debt, DRAGONBORN,” she says. “For now. Once. ONE time, only, and nothing beyond that.”

You wave away her poor attempt at diplomacy and tell her to begone. Her wounded pride is almost payment enough—almost. You will enjoy lording this favour over her during the trip. For now, though, you must plan, and the Novice is… Distracting.

You return to finish your meditations with The Green Dragonborn, who laments the news that you shall soon be departing. You know you cannot bring him with you, with his great size and greater value to the Dragonborn Project than even yourself. Underground, he would be hard-pressed to squeeze through small spaces or to fight in close confines; aboveground, the titanic terror would stand above many trees and surely inspire a crusade by overzealous Paladin-types by his very existence.

You are woefully distracted form your spiritual pursuits by the exhilarating considerations of who you will bring, what you will wield, and what else you might bring to bare in this, your FIRST journey on behalf of the Dark Gods. Before you can plan out a party to accompany you, though, you must plan your route. After all, a commander’s army—or a shaman’s following—must be selected, trained, and equipped for the specific challenges they will face…

You eventually retire for the evening, deciding to sleep on the matter. However, even as you drift off, you already know where your heart lies. You will…
>Follow the path below-ground
>Take the surface-route
>Go rogue, and take a long route
>>
>>5266720
Green Dragonborn a bro, looking forward to future interactions with him.
>Follow the path below-ground
Better safe then sorry.
>>
>>5266720
>>Follow the path below-ground
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>5266720
>>Follow the path below-ground
>>Take the surface-route
Rolling for it.
>>
>>5266720
>Follow the path below-ground
>>
>>5266720
>Take the surface-route
>>
>>5266720
>Take the surface-route

We did decide on Wings for a reason. Would’ve been neat to burn out dat elf though.
>>
>>5266720
>>Take the surface-route
>>
>>5266720
>Follow the path below-ground
>Emerge to see the surface a few times, when it's safe
Don't want Dragonborn sightings in the area.

>>5266581
>>5266695
I hate waifufaggotry as much as the next guy, but it never goes away, because the *special* anons will eventually get thirsty for romance. Better make it be the bratty full-blooded reptilian that we can humiliate and keep at distance, than a kobold, dwarf, orc or a christian h*man girl.
>>
>>5266720
>Take the surface-route
>>
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>>5266802
>>5266767
>>5266747
>>5266746
>>5266744
>>5266738
>>5266728
>>5266727
Though the high places call to your spirit, you decide to take the low road. The decision is formally finalized when you awake from your torpor. The Novice may have mocked such a choice as cowardly, but you see her fearlessness and eagerness for what it is: short-sighted impulsivity, hallmark of youth. Well, you may be the same age as her, but you are Dragon. Your soul is of old stock. You will play the long game.

The choice will guide your selection of allies, certainly… But first and foremost, it will guide your choice of equipment. You will be fighting in closer quarters than if you were aboveground, and moving through tighter spaces. Your affinity for air—your soul’s desire to soar—will be less useful outside of the largest caverns. A keen intellect, though, can find advantage anywhere. A thoughtful selection of arms and armaments will be a fine start to that.

You regretfully abstain from your usual meditations in the Great One’s chamber to instead travel into what sad and sorry storerooms pass for a merchant quarter among your much-depleted people. It’s the only marketplace you’ve ever known, but you have read reports of the surface—of the great human metropolises, of the elven citadels of trees and glass, of the high technology of dwarven halls, of trade caravans and bazaars as far as the eye can see and harbours full of ships bearing global goods. A world of wonderment and plenty for all, STOLEN by hairy hordes of warmblooded savages! Meanwhile, your people dine on insectoid scrap-meat and fungus-recycled waste. Outrage!
>>
>>5267064
Still, recent years have brought SOME wealth back to your people, including through this forward base. There are weapons of a wider variety than what once there was, taken from the carts and carcasses of mammals. You see glaives and polearms to extend your already-impressive reach and to plumb crevices and prod about for traps; daggers for dealing death swiftly and in tightest confines, and balanced to throw; cudgels and hammers, maces and morningstars, spiked and studded to make best use of your prodigious strength; shortbows and longbows, for executing enemies from distant egress; and swords, of every make ad manufacturer, meant to slice and stab and most of all to shine and gleam with the authority of Nobility.

There are materials for your superior, coldblooded craftsmen to craft, as well. No armour reclaimed from some pathetic surface-creature could fit your mighty and massive frame, with its admittedly-unconventional dimensions and proportions. You will need something bespoke and tailored. The only question is what to wear. Shall you adorn yourself in heavy armour, augmenting your scales and bony scutes at the cost of mobility? Stay light and agile, but somewhat vulnerable? Or shall you prize majesty and impression above all else, given that you represent your Master Race and all things Dragon?

Choose one main armament and one secondary weapon; the primary shall be masterwork, the secondary of fine enough craftsmanship but without any special bonus. Options include:
>Polearm [range, bad in close quarters, can be used to check for traps]
>Dagger [melee or ranged, concealable, good up close, weaker]
>Sword [adds to impressiveness and authority, versatile]
>Mace [crushes armoured foes, deals massive damage, slow and clumsy]
>Longbow [excellent range and piercng power, but difficult to use in narrower areas or up-close]
>Shortbow [easier to use in mid-range, but less peircing-power]

Choose heavy, light, or ceremonial armour
>Heavy [maximizes resilience to damage on failed rolls and allows you to tank blows]
>Light [will best enable you to chase, evade, and outmanoeuvre foes while offering less protection]
>Ceremonial [will strike fear and awe more readily]

>If you have any special requests for accessories and the like (non-magical, nothing over-the-top) which a weaponsmith or

[Pictures are cool, too, if you submit them with your vote; it may influence commissioned art someday in the not-so-distant future]
>>
>>5267071
>Sword [adds to impressiveness and authority, versatile]
>Ceremonial [will strike fear and awe more readily]

FULL AUTHORITY. THE KOBOLDS WILL BOW BENEATH OUR REPTILIAN FIGURE
>>
>>5267071
*Correction for post cut off by accident
>If you have any special requests for accessories and the like (non-magical, nothing over-the-top) which a weaponsmith or armourer might have, feel free to pitch it as well
>>
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>>5267071
>Longbow [excellent range and piercng power, but difficult to use in narrower areas or up-close]
Fuck it. Let's get something made of metal, that even Steeltalons' serpentine muscles can't draw, able to pierce walls /with/ kobolds if necessary. The medieval equivalent of a sniper rifle, if you will.
>Sword [adds to impressiveness and authority, versatile]
For close quarters and worthy representation of the Master Race.
>Ceremonial [will strike fear and awe more readily]
See above.
>Special
See if we can get a sword sheathe or blades and handguard (or just handguard) put on the bow for close quarters compatibility. Additionally, get full-metal arrows that will break less and we can recover more easily. I'm sure our proud female apprentice will happily carry them!
>>
>>5267071
>Longbow [excellent range and piercng power, but difficult to use in narrower areas or up-close]
>Dagger [melee or ranged, concealable, good up close, weaker]

>Ceremonial [will strike fear and awe more readily]
>>
>>5267071
>Sword [adds to impressiveness and authority, versatile]
>Longbow [excellent range and piercng power, but difficult to use in narrower areas or up-close]

>Light [will best enable you to chase, evade, and outmanoeuvre foes while offering less protection]
>>
>>5267071
>Mace [crushes armoured foes, deals massive damage, slow and clumsy]
>Shortbow [easier to use in mid-range, but less peircing-power]


>Light [will best enable you to chase, evade, and outmanoeuvre foes while offering less protection]
>>
>>5267071
>Sword [adds to impressiveness and authority, versatile]

>Ceremonial [will strike fear and awe more readily]
>>
>>5267071
>Polearm [range, bad in close quarters, can be used to check for traps]
>Shortbow [easier to use in mid-range, but less piercing-power]
>Ceremonial [will strike fear and awe more readily]
Just go for the full Dragoon aesthetic, complete with dropping on people with Jump
>>
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Rolled 3, 10, 11, 9 = 33 (4d20)

>>5267300
>>5267231
>>5267224
>>5267179
>>5267177
>>5267109
>>5267075


[Rolling for haggling and negotiations, using Reptilian Empathy with a bonus die for Intimidation applying as well.

In this quest, as with its predecessor, I will roll 1d20 for each rank in a relevant skill when I feel that a conclusion is not foregone or inconsequential to the story, or that to make it such would be too railroad-y. The DC is generally 15, though circumstances may lower or raise it at times (as may equipment, hint hint)]
>>
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>>5267316
Please tell me that armory roll was in our favor (10).
>>
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>>5267316
The surface world truly is a marvelous place, for all its infestation. You see evidence of the innovations which the fat and happy denizens of the Stolen Lands have developed, with their ill-gotten gains and over-ample free time. Sturdy and utilitarian weapons with intricate gylphs and ever-honed edges attest to the techniques of the dwarves, an especially hirsute and squat mole-ape you have heard tell of. All manner of gadgetry and gizmos comes form their lands, too. Both are replicated, with more experimental materials and techniques if less evident skill, by the humans—most populous of the surface races. You eye them, test the balance of various blades and polearms, and the heft of one very impressive-looking hammer. But no, no, too slow, and it does not carry the same SIGNIFICANCE.

The Silkscale merchants regard you in quiet awe and proper deference as you peruse their wares. They sense what your coming means: a Dragonborn deployed is the beginning of a new Age of Scales, surely! However, the cunning masters of subterfuge and manipulation that they are, they each try to press upon you their wares, and at a premium that they know the Priesthood can afford irrespective of the actual quality or utility of their goods. They spin false narratives of armies slaughtered with each butterknife and practice-bow.

“ENOUGH.”

You speak the word loudly but calmly, and will your Fearsome Presence into being. Heads bow, eyes turn away and downward. You take a deep breath, appreciative of the space the throng now give to you. Since growing into your legacy, and your seven-and-a-half foot stature, you have never known such consolidated and shameless attention. Though it is perhaps an ignoble thing to admit, it… Overwhelmed you.

>11

However, your imposition of your will backfires. The merchants now are fearful to speak up, to boast their wares, to even proffer anything they are not certain will meet your requirements. They provide no information which you do not specifically request, terrified to anger you. In frustration, you rummage through one stall yourself, where the fine and smooth lines of the craftsmanship and the gold-and-silver filigree catches your eye and appeals to a deep-seated instinct to hoard.
>>
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>>5267366
“What make is this?” you demand. “Where were they crafted, and by what race?”

“Elfin lands, Oh Dragonborn,” the submissive male provides quickly, not looking up.

You admire the haft of the longbow, a peculiar design with a shield-like hand-guard and reinforcements along the bow itself. It is fine, gracile, yet as you flex it you can feel the bow test you in kind. IT will require strength to wield, for it is strong… And it LOOKS magnificent.

“I will take it,” you declare, and the seller-of-goods seems to delight, while you hear others hiss and croak in quiet annoyance at your choice of his wares over theirs.

“I will also take your finest blade,” you say, “by these same elves, if possible.

The smaller male skitters away with the tip-tapping of tiny talons, and returns bearing a fine, wide-bladed sword that’s seems styled after some sort of… Feather? Leaf? You have precious little experience with either, but the blade is a fine silver—almost white—and its hilt is gold. It is regal, you decide. A you slice and stab at the air, narrowly missing the merchant, you find its weight and size also appropriate to you, though in your great hand it is almost a short-sword; to anyone smaller, it would be a two-handed blade.

“This will do,” you say, and leave. The bill will be presented to the Chaplain or his subordinates—you do not trouble yourself with coins, ration-cards, or other such nonsense.

Your next stop is a proper Reptilian smith—a Dragonblooded One, distant and less-auspicious cousin to your own noble self. From him, you requisition armour worthy of a Lord of Lizards, a marching Prince on a holy mission to reassert True Royalty upon rebellious slaves who have forgotten their place.

“It will weigh you down, designed as you have requested,” he says, a bit bolder than those lesser Reptilians you cowed. “The projections will catch on cave-walls.”

“It will be the weight of AUTHORITY,” you say with confidence that you increasingly feel in your heart, as you imagine the figure you will cut. “It will project DOMINION.”

“As you say, oh Dragonborn,” he acknowledges, and sets to work, taking your measurements and then beginning the processes of modifying existing amour to meet your specific requirements; even for such a project, nothing goes to waste.

You lean against a wall, admiring your blade, and even the new sheathe—made from some sort of plant-based quasi-leather, you are told. It is a true work of art. How did grimy mammals make such a thing?! You wonder if you should expect commensurate mastery in the art of war, from the outcast elves who you have been told dwell between here and the heretic kobolds…

“Don’t you think you’re being a little over-the-top?”
>>
>>5267367

You sigh. You recognize that voice—the Novice, Chaplain’s daughter, has found you again.

“I do not recall asking a NON-COMBATANT’S opinion on arms and armaments, Child of Nepotism,” you reply, not bothering to look at her.

“You’re one to talk, swaggering about and casting the Presence like a shield against your fragile ego, while dressing yourself up like some princeling of old,” she shoots back, settling in beside you and appraising your new weaponry. “Why wooden-shafted arrows? Steel shafts are less likely to break, and easier to retrieve.”

“As with the sheath of the sword, I am told that the arrows are specially grown and treated by the surface-elves, to be strong as iron.”

She croaks a low rattle of appreciation, and you feel some smugness… Untils he speaks again.

“Did the seller also tell you that the sheath and arrows must be alchemically-treated with specific compounds to maintain their shape and strength, and even watered as if a living plant?”

You glare at the Novice, who looks altogether too pleased with herself.

“Most of the price for these exotic weapons will be the gold and silver PLATING—useless adornment. Just like your ostentatious armour, False Emperor.”

“So much for your debt of gratitude,” you mutter.

“I am simply trying to spare you father’s wrath,” the Novice Fleshweaver says by way of apology, without ACTUALLY apologizing in word or in tone or expression.

“So you have sought me out and interrupted my preparations for the purpose of altruism? How… Unlike you.”

“Altruism is weakness,” she scoffs. “I am here out of enlightened self-interest, as is proper. I don’t wish to die on this sojourn because an untested egotist outfitted our expedition with a bunch of gaudy and impractical accoutrements.”

“I will consider your words,” you say with obvious dismissal in your voice. “Begone, female.”
>>
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>>5267369
The Novice tuts and hisses lowly.

“Such sass, now that you have been acknowledged by authority as more than a medical curiosity,” she notes. “You are on your way to the Library of the Clerics next, are you not?”

“I am,” you acknowledge.

It was your next stop-off: to find manuals, tomes, and scrolls which you can study from, keeping up your meditations and your spell-studies as you travel, so as to grow your mind and strengthen your dragon-soul.

“Then,” the Novice says brightly, daring to meet your steely gaze, “you will benefit from a scholar with actual training, tutelage, and experience, will you not? This is actual STUDY, oh Degenerateborn. If you wish to make progress—to ever learn more than a single spell—you cannot simply sit silently thinking about Silkscale tail while your ‘elder brother’ gorges himself. You will need a TEACHER.”

The female’s dark eyes catch the light of the forge and the sparks of the hammer and anvil which even now work on your commission. Her eyes shine with excitement and an eagerness to prove herself—to you? To her father? To herself, maybe?

Do you accept her offer?
>No—you will select your own spellbooks, and teach YOURSELF, as you always have
>Yes—you will allow the Novice to choose the tomes and manuals, and perhaps even accept her tutelage
>You will take her advice… And seek a DIFFERENT tutor to accompany you, and to teach you his discipline
>Write-in
>>
>>5267376
>You will take her advice… And seek a DIFFERENT tutor to accompany you, and to teach you his discipline
This is the biggest own and also a smart idea.
>>
>>5267376
>Not quite- you will allow her to select what she thinks is right, but you will also take tomes you believe are best. That way, you can measure the results of both methods.
>>
>You will take her advice… And seek a DIFFERENT tutor to accompany you, and to teach you his discipline.

We can't be letting this novice priestess get too cocky.
>>
>>5267376
>Not quite- you will allow her to select what she thinks is right, but you will also take tomes you believe are best. That way, you can measure the results of both methods.
>and perhaps even accept her tutelage.
Choosing her just to keep our team compact. It could lead to some interesting character developments as well.
Are we sure Ismena didn't secretly bang that Chaplain? This Silkscale acts awfully like her.
>>
>>5267376
>Not quite- you will allow her to select what she thinks is right, but you will also take tomes you believe are best. That way, you can measure the results of both methods.
>>
>>5267445
>Are we sure Ismena didn't secretly bang that Chaplain? This Silkscale acts awfully like her.
Except she has no sex drive, so don't get excited.
>>
>>5267451
>did not answer the question
>we can not procreate with her
Hmmmmmmmm, duly noted. The only thing I'm getting excited for is terrorizing kobolds with our massive charisma and nailing the enemies of Grand Design to walls!
>>
>>5267481
>we can not procreate with her
I didn't say that. But she's pureblooded Serpent Priest, which both means she can't be the daughter of the last MC AND that she only has sex for purposes of procreation and at a specific time of year, every few years.
>>
>>5267376
>Yes—you will allow the Novice to choose the tomes and manuals, and perhaps even accept her tutelage
>>
>>5267487
Oh okay. I just immediately thought of Henzler when no sex drive was mentioned. Sorry for overthinking, RQM. It's a bit late now, but I hope you enjoy your fresh new quest!
>>
>>5267376
>Yes—you will allow the Novice to choose the tomes and manuals, and perhaps even accept her tutelage

We have to throw her a bone once in a while, and isn't she supposed to be something of a prodigy? We really shouldn't let "owning" her get in the way of getting the best tutor we can at this point.
>>
>>5267497
[I appreciate theorizing, and there WILL be callbacks and easter eggs, never fear. The Novice just isn't one of them. She just acts similarly in some regards because, like the Infiltrator, she is a gifted qn ambitious young woman struggling against social forces which work against her and also because I have a limited number of distinctive character voices in my repertoire and 'playfully smug bully' is one of them.
>>
>>5267445
>support
>>
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>>5267506
I was so slow on this that I missed the actual Reptilian Infiltrator thread, but I wanted to congratulate you on completing a quest and drop this little tribute to my comrades in arms/QMs of patrician taste. (Sorry about making this a big public thing, would've sent it to you in Twitter DMs but you don't seem to have a Twitter.)
>>
>>5267555
Hey, look, it's the Dragonborn's mom and those weird strangers she lost a beauty pageant to/with!

That's awesome and I love it, thanks!
>>
>>5267445
+1
>Yes—you will allow the Novice to choose the tomes and manuals, and perhaps even accept her tutelage
>>
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>>5267376
>You will take her advice… And seek a DIFFERENT tutor to accompany you, and to teach you his discipline
It begins.
>>
>>5267376
>No—you will select your own spellbooks, and teach YOURSELF, as you always have
>>
>>5267827
>>5267794
>>5267776
>>5267538
>>5267499
>>5267493
>>5267487
>>5267446
>>5267445
>>5267408
>>5267382
>>5267381
You consider carefully the words of this Little Sister, this would-be Serpent Priestess. Despite her obvious angling for personal gain and glory, it’s not as if she DOESN’T have a point. Formal tutelage would speed the process immensely, especially if you are to study a discipline outside of your inborn draconic aptitudes.

“Very well,” you say after a moment.

“Excellent!” she exclaims. “Then you will allow my SUPERIOR self to properly instruct you, oh Meatheaded One? You will not regret this, wisest of all your decisions! We will begin with—”

“Not quite,” you interrupt, and the Novice hisses in annoyance. “I will allow her to select what you think is right, but I will also take tomes which I believe to be best. That way, we can measure the results of both methods.”

“How… Scientific-minded of you…” the Novice complements through gnashing teeth and quiet fury.

“Not such a Meatheaded One, this Degenerateborn,” you say cheerfully. “Now, attend to me, and let us be on our way, oh Prodigal Prodigy.”

You continue to make sport of each other all the way there, toeing the line between banter and actual insults—as you always have, you suppose. Reptilians are without any silly sentimentality, without the frivolities of romance or even friendship, which are all mammalian fantasies without any bearing on reality. Camaraderie and courtship are just games of one-upmanship and brinksmanship, of obligation and alliance or dominance and defeat. You could even say that the experience is a bonding one.

You break it up when you enter the inner sanctum of the Library of the Clerics, which is after all a holy place given to silence and contemplation. This circular room, rising high up to into a mountain above, is a veritable silo of insight through the ages. It holds every scroll which could be recovered from the fallen empires of old, or half-remembered transcriptions of those where the original has rumbled to dust or been lost to ravening hordes of lesser, younger races. Schematics, blueprints, sketches and artworks abound. There are bound books of the enemy, too, and their own scrolls before that, seized in infiltration or those rare, dangerous acts of direct war between the Reptilian Races and those mammalian peoples which even their kin have forgotten.

Among all of these, the most coveted are, of course the spellbooks, magic manuals, and single-spell scrolls.
>>
>>5268128
“I MUST forbid it,” the Serpent Priest who serves as Cleric of Written Record says. “I FORBID the taking of any full spellbook. That knowledge is too valuable to our future generations o lose, too dangerous in the hands of our enemies. And anyway…”

She draws short of saying it, but you know: you and the Novice are not even nineteen years of age, not quite. And you… You are Dragonborn, but no Serpent Priest, and while DRAGONS are capable of virtually any feat of mind and spirit, among the Reptilian Master Race only the Serpent Priests have been gifted by the Dark Gods with the gift of spellcraft, with even Dragonblooded Ones only managing a simpler, weaker form of your own firebreath and nothing more. Who is to say that you will even be able to make use of the scrolls and manuals you take?

“This order comes from my father,” the Novice presses, hissing the word with as much menace as she can manage and assuming the extended posture of a Serpent priest issuing a proclamation, long neck fully extended. “You must—”

“—Do my duty to our people,” finishes the Cleric of Written Record finishes, “and ask for EXPLICIT permission of a Secret-Keeper of Deepest Dark, in excess of even your father’s Operational Chaplain authority, before offering up any such resource for a surface expedition helmed by veritable HATCHLINGS.”

The Novice hisses in displeasure, and exchanges a look with you.

“It will be fine,” you say, sighing. “Take what you can get. I will rely on your ‘expert tutelage’ to fill in gaps where your subjects are concerned.”

“And what of your own reading list, oh Stubborn One?” the Novice asks.

You tap at your jutting chin-spikes as you consider this very subject. Impatient, the Novice stomps off to go begin her own search of the archive for what instructional aides she may be permitted to take.

What subjects will the Novice focus on teaching you? Pick two:
>Healing and Inflicting of Wounds
>Biological Manipulation (Superficial)
>Biological Manipulation (Inner Workings)
>Use and Neutralization of Poisons
>Herbalism and Mycological Alchemy

What scrolls and manuals will you attempt to teach yourself using? Pick one:
>Elementalism
>Mentalism
>Enchantment
>Divination
>Demonology
>Conjuration
>Necromancy
>Transmutation
>Write-in [may modify or veto if unreasonable]
>>
>>5268129
>Biological Manipulation (Superficial)
>Biological Manipulation (Inner Workings)

>Transmutation

Let's go full fucked up body horror boys, we'll make ourselves a true dragon yet
>>
>>5268129
>Biological Manipulation (Superficial)
>Biological Manipulation (Inner Workings)

>Divination

I'd agree that pursuing greater Dragon-ness is good, but this character is forging his own path. Having some divination magic can probably help.
>>
>>5268129
>Biological Manipulation (Inner Workings)
>Biological Manipulation (Superficial)

>Divination
>>
>>5268129
>Biological Manipulation (Superficial)
>Biological Manipulation (Inner Workings)

>Enchantment
>>
>>5268129
>>Biological Manipulation (Superficial)
>>Biological Manipulation (Inner Workings)

>Elementalism
>>
>>5268129
>Healing and Inflicting of Wounds
>Biological Manipulation (Superficial)

>Enchantment
>>
>>5268129
>Biological Manipulation (Superficial)
>Biological Manipulation (Inner Workings)

>Mentalism or Demonology

It’d be rad lads.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=VjQ2t_yNHQs
>>
>>5268134
I'll support Divination as a backup if nobody else goes in for Transmutation fwiw.
>>
>>5268129
>>Divination
>Biological Manipulation (Inner Workings)
>Healing and Inflicting of Wounds
>>
what does divination do again?
>>
>>5268134
>>5268159
>>5268163
>>5268244
>>5268248
>>5268253
>>5268274
>>5268322
>>5268276
You roam the circumference of the great, round room, roving the shelves with eyes and mind ever moving. You could teach yourself Transmutation, mastering matter and maybe even modifying YOURSELF into something yet more draconic… Or, with Elementalism, perhaps you could modify your breath weapon to facilitate means of attack beyond ‘mere’ dragonfire? Enchantment is a VERY strong contender—the blasted Novice could never criticize your equipment again, if you were to imbue them with arcane durability and added effects, after all! And Mentalism and Demonology, considered lowly arts in some quarters, nevertheless speak to you on some deep level that you can’t quite understand…

But then you catch a glimpse of shining, silvery scroll-seal, and you feel a flicker of some second sense—almost like the Fearsome Presence of another dragon, like your brother when his servants are too slow to serve him. You squint, trying to see it more closely, and you are able to recognize the symbol: the arrangement of stars which is known to the Serpent Priests as Draco Stellaris, the Star Dragon! You’ve never seen it before, but in their predictive divinations, it is said to align with the ideal time to crown a king, to sire an heir, or to select a successor or lieutenant.

Divination… Yes, to forge your own path in a way optimal with the Great Design set in place before your birth! To know, unfailingly, when the Stars are Right for your ascent! To commune directly with the will of those Below and Beyond!

The scroll is too high for you to reach by normal means, even with your remarkable height… But luckily, you already have a LITTLE magic of your own. You squeeze shut your eyes, take in a deep breath, and think of wings. You remember—REMEMBER—the racial memory of flight, of freedom and sovereignty and rushing air, or land far below and the sky’s starry firmament close enough to ouch with draconic talons… Close enough to reach out and grab one!

You <JUMP>, and grab the silver-sealed divination scroll as you pass its high-up shelf. Rebounding off of the ceiling above, you stick the three-point landing, rattling a nearby cart of books and scrolls and nearly upending it. The library’s keeper glowers at you in a mix of confusion and annoyance, but you hold your prize: a scroll of Divination!

“Show off,” scoffs the Novice, once more at your side and with two thin, hidebound manuals tucked under her arm and propped on one hip. “They HAVE a rolling ladder which you can use to get up there.”

“You were using it,” you point out.

“Impatient and arrogant in equal measures,” she comments.

“’Efficient' is a better descriptor,” you reply. “I would also accept ‘victorious’.”

“May you triumph so well in EVERY battle as in this meaningless errand,” the Novice says, voice dripping irony like a cockatrice drips venom.
>>
>>5268556
You two young worthies register your borrowed volumes with the Cleric, and depart this place with your prizes. The Novice, for her part, decides to focus on teaching you the single, most-fundamental aspect of her Fleshweaver discipline in two parts: Biological Manipulation, in its superficial and inner dimensions.

“That counts as two separate fields?” you ask, skeptical. Is she just trying to mask a lack of breadth to her own knowledge.

“Obviously, Dimwittedborn,” she says smugly, with the air of an expert given the chance to display her mastery to a layman. “The ‘superficial’ dimension affects not the inner workings of a subject, but rather modifies appearance and other externalities. The most famous example is the Amulet of Disguise, which allows a Reptilian agent to modify their outward appearance and even temporarily absorb certain limbs and alter skin-temperature to blend in among mammals.”

“I am no Reptilian Infiltrator,” you point out. “Such an amulet can reduce height by six inches at most, I am told, and they do not even seem fully ‘compatible’ with my nature.”

“Yes!” the Novice says eagerly, looking you up and down with a strange hunger that, by her scent and lack of throat-pouch inflammation, you KNOW cannot indicate she is aroused and in-season. No, this is the hunger of her boundless, unfeminine ambition. “Nobody has YET been able to make an Amulet of that nature which can properly cloak your strangeness, oh Unusual One… But then, who else has studied the discipline WITH you, has studied you in CLOSENESS and in DPETH?”

“My creators,” you point out drolly, “ for literally the entirety of my childhood.”

The Novice scoffs, rattling with dismissiveness and irritation., and says: “They were not ME.”

“It seems I am not the only show-off, then,” you quip. “And of the inner workings?”

“The inner dimension of my most noble discilipline deals with the modification fo organs, of muscles and skeleton, or ligaments and humours…”

That catches your attention immediately, and you cannot help but interrupt: “Could these disciplines be used to grow wings?”

The Novice looks at you wryly, and with great amusement. “Does the little cave-bat wish to fly? What a childish fantasy.”

“Dragons have wings,” you point out. “The Green Dragonborn has wings.”

“Is that why you dedicated YEARS of your life to learning a single spell, and for SOME reason decided that should be a means to improve your vertical leap?” she asks, perceptive to a fault. “IT would be adorable if it was not so embarrassing.”

You just stare at her, until she sighs and looks away, seeing that she will not get a rise out of you.

“Yes,” she says, “in time, we could perhaps grow you a pair of wings.”

You will be a true Dragonborn yet!
>>
>>5268559
Thrilled at the prospect, and fantasizing about the future, you conclude your business with the Novice and set about your next course of business. It has been a long and full day, but before you return to torpor, you must…
>Grab a bite to eat at the commissary
>Begin your studies of the divination scroll—no time like the present!
>Speak with the Chaplain about something [what do you ask, or request?]
>Go pay the breeding pit a visit—this excitement has gotten you worked up
>Go tell the Green Dragonborn all about your day—who else would you share your triumph with??
>Write-in
>>
>>5268560
>Go tell the Green Dragonborn all about your day—who else would you share your triumph with??

He's a good guy
>>
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>>5268560
>Go tell the Green Dragonborn all about your day—who else would you share your triumph with??
The only person who really gets us around here. Ask him if he likes our ceremonial gear. Does he happen to know any good arrow vendors? Glad to see the dragonborn is doing good.

>>5268559
>“They were not ME.”
Yes, it was "just" our crazy ol' Henzler. I'll enjoy seeing this silkscale try to outperform Hawksong's greatest fleshweaver, who created Dragonborn all by herself, in her own field. Goood fucking luck with that.
>>
>>5268560
>Go tell the Green Dragonborn all about your day—who else would you share your triumph with??
>>
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>>5268559
>You just stare at her, until she sighs and looks away, seeing that she will not get a rise out of you.
>>
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>>5268589
>this silkscale

[Point of order, and a clarification for those who did not read the last quest, but the Novice is a pure-blooded descedant of Serpent Priests. Young, uninitiated ones are called Little Sisters or Little Brotehrs, while initiated clergy are called Serpent Priests or Priestesses; when speaking colloquially or in generalities, the demonym 'Serpent priest' describes their entire subrace/caste.

SIlkscales, Steeltalons, and the Dragonblooded are each their own separate caste, distinct from those ones. Interbreeding is discouraged, to maintain the very distinct appearance and abilities of each subrace, and to maintain the social order. All of these races are considered, more broadly, part of the "Reptilian Master Race", whose ancestors once reigned over 'lesser' races of scaly-folk like Lizardmen, Kobolds, Nagas, etcetera, and under the Dragons.]
>>
>>5268560
>Go tell the Green Dragonborn all about your day—who else would you share your triumph with??
>>
>>5268560
>Go pay the breeding pit a visit—this excitement has gotten you worked up
>>
>>5268622
I forgot to ask, do we know her name or not?
>>
>>5268650
[Yes, but it all buy impossible to spell using a Latin alphabet (think "Ssskiszki!lisz!k") and unpronounceable using human vocal chords without a great deal of practice. Plus, Reptilians don't address one another by name, usually, as you have probably noticed -- outside of specific need, it is considered taboo as being almost unthinkable intimate.]
>>
>>5268560
>Begin your studies of the divination scroll—no time like the present!
>>
>>5268560
>Go tell the Green Dragonborn all about your day—who else would you share your triumph with??
>>
>>5268681
Ok, but it makes mentioning this Lischicc a little bit harder.
>>
>>5268692
[She is the Novice, or the Novice Fleashweaver or, if you were to encounter other Novice Fleshweavers, 'Chaplain's Daughter'. That's how Reptoids would go about speaking of her, anyway. And she may well get a pseudonym when you go on the mission]
>>
>>5268694
Oh right, makes sense.
>>
>>5268576
>>5268589
>>5268611
>>5268628
>>5268647
>>5268689
>>5268691
The Green Dragonborn turns the blade of your new sword over and over between his massive, claw-tipped fingers, purring and humming appreciatively.

“Shi-neee,” he says. “Ap-prove.”

“Elven craftsmanship,” you boast, “by the longest-lived and most artistically-inclined of the lesser, ape-born races. The bow, also. Did you see the handguard?”

The Green Dragonborn chuckles, and nods, returning the sword. You sheath it, glaring for only a moment at the sheath. You will have to see about commandeering some alchemical ingredients to treat it and to keep it fresh, lest its elaborate leaflike texture wilt.

“Just wait until you see the armour,” you boast. “It will be fit for a king—a Lizard King!”

“Not dragon, though,” the Great One rumbles.

You look up, surprised and confused.

“Dragon has… Own armour. Scales.”

You nod, and sigh ruefully. It’s true. What did the old poems say of the Red Dragon of Bloodrise, your most noble of all ancestors? ‘Armor is like tenfold shields, teeth are swords, claws like spears, tail like a crashing thunderbolt, wings like a hurricane, breath like Death Himself’, if you recall…

You look back to the Great One and grin toothily. “Well, I may just be able to do something about that as well.”

“Hrrrm?” he rumbles, questioningly.

In whispers, so the few females of the harem not otherwise occupied at this hour do not overhear, you tell your elder brother of your ambitions—of your intention to learn the art of Fleshweaving, and to apply it to your own ‘condition’. However, to your surprise, the Green Dragonborn shows visible discomfort at the subject.
>>
>>5268782

“What is the matter?” you ask.

The Great One grumbles and shudders. “Ba-ad memories… Of early times. Of… Cree-ay-tor.”

You are confused. The Fleshweavers have left bad memories with your brother? You inquire as to the nature of these memories, but eh will not speak of them in detail. He shakes his head and pushes you away with a tiny fraction of his strength when you ask additional questions.

“Not Fle-eshweaver,” he says grimly. “They fix… It hurt, but they fix. Like your mah-ther fix you.”

You aren’t certain which of the Fleshweavers who crafted you from raw materials the Great One might believe to be your mother, nor is he inclined to elaborate. You wonder if she is the one he fears—FEAR! from a True Dragonborn! Who could have imagined it?—but the recollections are clearly painful for him.

“Take care… Go slow… Changes can hu-urt… Can make hard to breath, to move. Hard to live.”

You’ve never seen your elder and mentor like this before—contemplative, sad, unsettled, even ashamed. It reminds you, admittedly, of times in your youth, when you would claw at your growing mane of hair and wish that you were more completely Dragon. But why would this Great One, first and greatest among your kind, ever have cause for such inner turmoil?

Do you press?
>Yes [Reptilian Empathy check, may damage relationship if you fail]
>No, let sleeping serpents lie; maybe sleep here tonight, to keep the big guy company
>No, but you will ask the Chaplain about this
>No, but you will pester the Novice about this
>>
>>5268784
>Yes [Reptilian Empathy check, may damage relationship if you fail]

It's worth the risk, I think.
>>
>>5268784
>Yes [Reptilian Empathy check, may damage relationship if you fail]
>>
>>5268784
>Yes [Reptilian Empathy check, may damage relationship if you fail]
>>
>>5268784
>No, let sleeping serpents lie; maybe sleep here tonight, to keep the big guy company
I'll also support asking Novice or Chaplain if anons want it instead.
>>5268785
>>5268794
>>5268830
I'd prefer we not press him to reveal the details this humiliating and personal for him, because it's like asking a rape victim for details. Worse, actually. We can totally go bug Chaplain about it instead, tho.
Since it's all from infiltrator quest, here's TL;DR on what happened: He was Henzler's first and only(?) attempt at incubating and growing a dragon/dragon hybrid with Great Green Dragon's blood, but since she had no proper reptilian genetic material to work with, he turned out imperfect, disfigured and has this speech impairment. Her psychopathic behavior and obsession with work made her treat him like an object, just another piece of meat she grew in a vat. Henzler performed many surgeries on him, never showed empathy and kept him under strict control like a dog. It's so bad, that he was scared of just being in her presence and would obey her mindlessly.
>>
>>5268784
>>No, let sleeping serpents lie; maybe sleep here tonight, to keep the big guy company
because we don't roll and it's not best of three.
>>
>>5268784
>No, but you will ask the Chaplain about this
We can sate our curiosity and not bother the dude. Win-win.
>>
>>5268784
>Yes [Reptilian Empathy check, may damage relationship if you fail]
>>
Rolled 5, 2, 20 = 27 (3d20)

>>5268925
>>5268922
>>5268901
>>5268872
>>5268830
>>5268785
>>5268794
>>
>>5268929
damn
>>
>>5268929
Thank Dark Gods. Also, is the vote locked now?
Hope I don't miss a post overnight, with how fast these are coming out.
>>
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>>5268929
You can tell your elder brother is troubled, and deeply, but the little tidbits of information are mere appetizers to your curiosity. You must know more!

“Great One,” you say, “what are you talking about? We are both creations of the Fleshweavers. We are, the both of us, motherless by nature. Perfect, purpose-built creations.”

The Green Dragonborn says nothing, simply fidgeting like a hatchling caught in an uncomfortable lie. He will say nothing…

>20

…And so, as you have throughout your life, you commune without speaking.

Almost immediately, you regret having done so—the floodgates of the other Dragonborn’s emotions are strong, holding back over a CENTURY of emotions. A century?! You never knew he was that old. The Dragonborn Project is, you know, only a few years older that you yourself are. Or, well… So you thought. Your presence in the elder’s mind brings him comfort, stemming the tide of old sorrows and acting as a controlled release for what has long been bottled up. You are a salve for his soul, and whatever else comes from this empathic connection, you are glad at least that you can make him feel less alone—after all, he has always done so for you.

Over the next hour, you come to understand the root of the Dragonborn’s pain, his true origins… And yours. He was created not by Reptilian Fleshweavers, but a human equivalent, long before coming here. He was malformed at first, poorly patched together with incomplete knowledge, and raised not like Royalty but like an abhorrent animal. Only a little over a decade-and-a-half ago was he freed from this unspeakable, ignoble fate by a Reptilian Infiltrator—a lowly Degenerate, with knowledge of magic beyond her station.

Your mother.
>>
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>>5268942
That revelation makes you reel even more than the other, for its personal nature—for how it shatters your personal mythology. You had believed—ben TOOLD, all your life—that you were created in a ritual-room, a holy laboratory, from extracted tissued and incubated in an artificial egg. You were told that your human component was minor, merely a sort of biological adhesive or putty to help bind and meld Dragon bloodlines to those of Reptilians and great, scaly beasts. To learn that your draconic component is negligible at best, your human ancestry nearly a quarter of your genome… It is a shock, to say the least.

And the Novice, your childhood bully and current tutor and ally in the upcoming expedition… She ahs always called you ‘Degenerateborn’, ‘False Dargonborn’, and more besides. Did she know how right she was? Did she KNOW? The Chaplain surely did—surely instructed your caregivers and instructors to perpetuate the falsehoods which formed the basis for your self-understanding.

You stare down at your body, and your hands, and will your unexpected shuddering to cease. In its wake, you feel only…
>Righteous fury! You will storm up to the Chaplain and demand an explanation for all of this, NOW!
>Shame and self-loathing; you are no Dragonborn, but a fraud and a failure, born from the lowliest and most disgusting sort of Reptilian that exists
>Embarrassment and determination; you will hide this, and you will CORRECT it by means of magic or otherwise
>Acceptance and understanding; this really does explain a great deal, and you plan to re-evaluate your self-conception and your goals in light of it
>Write-in
>>
>>5268943
>>Embarrassment and determination; you will hide this, and you will CORRECT it by means of magic or otherwise
YEAHHHHHH
>>
>>5268943
>ben TOOLD
When you're so shocked your inner monologue becomes an outraged Scotsman

>>5268932
It'll slow down after the weekend, and next weekend I have company, so never fear. I'm just on a roll and desperately trying to distract myself from some personal woes.
>>
>>5268943
>UNDERSTANDING and DETERMINATION; this really does explain a great deal, and you plan to correct it by means of magic or otherwise.
Real dragonborn wouldn't freak out or try to hide the unpleasant truths under a pile of lies or emotions. We can yet overcome the weakness of our flesh, mold ourselves into what we always aspired to be and show to everyone that we're dragon first and foremost.
>and demand an explanation for all of this, from the Novice.
Did she actually know?
>>
>>5268943
>Acceptance and understanding; this really does explain a great deal, and you plan to re-evaluate your self-conception and your goals in light of it
>>
>>5268949
Well I'm not complaining about extra content! Just don't like waking up to 20 posts and wondering what juicy votes I missed, lol. I hope things get better for you soon, RQM. Please take care of yourself when not compulsively writing.
>>
>>5268943
>Embarrassment and determination; you will hide this, and you will CORRECT it by means of magic or otherwise
>Acceptance and understanding; this really does explain a great deal, and you plan to re-evaluate your self-conception and your goals in light of it

Dragonheart
>>
>>5268959
>supporting
>>
>>5268943
>Shame and self-loathing; you are no Dragonborn, but a fraud and a failure, born from the lowliest and most disgusting sort of Reptilian that exists
>>
>>5268945
>>5268959
>>5268960
>>5268960
>>5269054
>>5269067
>just b urself
Cucks.
>>
>>5268943
>Acceptance and understanding; this really does explain a great deal, and you plan to re-evaluate your self-conception and your goals in light of it

We are great because we are great. There is no need for improvement really, it is only adding onto our excellence. Our mother is great because she birthed us too. Accept it.
>>
>>5269072
Lol, I just don’t want us to sperg out or develop self-loathing. Besides, there is a way to make us and the Great One brothers yet… for another time though.
>>
>>5268872
Catanon, I would appreciate it if you can keep the TL;DRs to yourself if you could. I know you’re trying to be helpful, but that is metaknowledge that hasn’t been earned (via reading), and keeping some revelations hidden may actually improve the experience for the others or force them to read Reptilian Infiltrator Quest to get those juicy TL;DR spoilers.
>>
>>5268943
>Righteous fury! You will storm up to the Chaplain and demand an explanation for all of this, NOW!
>>
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It's shit.
>>
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>>5268945
>>5268959
>>5268960
>>5269054
>>5269067
>>5269070
>>5269082
>>5269095
Your initial instinct is embarrassment, that you believed a fabrication for so long and built your own legend up in your mind. The Novice, whatever she knew or did not know, was right about one thing: your ego has outgrown your actual self. You envisioned yourself some Champion to the Dark Gods, because of the dragon’s blood coursing through your veins in your imaginings… But that river is but a trickling stream. The noble blood is but a few droplets in an ocean.

But then, it seems such was true of your ignoble mother as well, wasn’t it? And yet… She rescued the Green Dragonborn, your brother. By the way you understand it, she was instrumental in repairing the errors of his human creator, and jumpstarting the Dragonborn Project. Is that why they allowed a tainted bloodline like hers to continue—to produce you? Why raise you in such a lie rather than simply telling you the truth, and treating you the same as other Degenerates?

“Well then,” you wryly muse aloud, “the Dark Gods must have an important purpose for me after all. I shall have to make myself worthy of it.”

The revelations have clearly exhausted your older brother, but you sense a peace in him, and you find your own soul mirroring it. No angst or inner tumult for you—it does not befit a Dragonborn, and by birth or by right of dark knowledge and glorious conquest, you WILL become worthy of that title!

Worthiness must wait until after a spell of torpor, however. You, too, find yourself tired. You return to your chamber, where you lay down upon your spartan cot. You toss, you turn… But eventually, sleep comes, and it is as untroubled as every other such slumber.

When morning comes, it brings you acceptance of your circumstances, understanding that the past is immutable… And a determination to change your future. It is within your grasp, if you will but seize it!

One thing at a time, though. Your armour will not be complete for approximately another 36 hours, and there are yet preparations to be made for the journey ahead, a little over 100 hours after that. You…
>Go to see the Chaplain—now that you know the truth, you have questions for him [specify if you have anything in mind]
>Intend to master the art of Biological Manipulation as soon as possible, which means finding the Novice [specify if you confront her about your discovery or not]
>Read and meditate upon the Scroll of Divination, attempting to understand and master the spell within
>Take up your sword and head for the sparring grounds, to train your swordsmanship for battles to come
>Need a distraction, and the breeding pits are perfectly suited to such purposes
>Begin recruiting for the retinue which will accompany you on your journey
>Study the maps of the route and learn of elven culture
>Write-in

>>5269126
Sorry it's not to your liking.
>>
>>5269153
>Study the maps of the route and learn of elven culture
Let's be practical.
>>
>>5269153
>Intend to master the art of Biological Manipulation as soon as possible, which means finding the Novice [specify if you confront her about your discovery or not]
>>
>>5269166
No, now is not the time to confront the novice. Let her remain ignorant for the time being.
>>
>>5269153
>Begin recruiting for the retinue which will accompany you on your journey
>Study the maps of the route and learn of elven culture

I guess we take after our mother - burying emotional trauma through work
>>
>>5269153
>Go to see the Chaplain—now that you know the truth, you have questions for him [specify if you have anything in mind]
Why mislead us about the circumstances of our birth?
How much big stacy energy would he rate our mom as having from 1-100?
>>
>>5269153
>Need a distraction, and the breeding pits are perfectly suited to such purposes

I’m just curious if it’s something like a reptilian night club or just a couple of pits with a writhing mass of sneks in it.
>>
>>5269153
Could just be his interpretation of the MC’s reaction mate.
>>
>>5269153
>Read and meditate upon the Scroll of Divination, attempting to understand and master the spell within

>Intend to master the art of Biological Manipulation as soon as possible, which means finding the Novice (Don't confront)
>>
>>5269259
>>5269212
>>5269183
>>5269172
>>5269166
>>5269162
[Quite the spread! Was I overgenerous with options? Should I limit them or present them more sequentially next time? I will probably post once more before bed, or tomorrow, and will try to incorporate at least a couple front-runners.]
>>
>>5269261
the options were too balanced
you need one that's clearly better than the others
>>
>>5269153
>Take up your sword and head for the sparring grounds, to train your swordsmanship for battles to come
>>
>>5269261
Bedsides the flesh pits, all these option's could be argued to have practical use.
>>
>>5269153
>Need a distraction, and the breeding pits are perfectly suited to such purposes

There MUST be a practical application.
>>
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>>5269162
>>5269172
Two for ethno-geographical studies

>>5269166
>>5269259
Two for Biological Manipulations studies

>>5269212
>>5269294
Two for a visit to the breeding pits

[Alright, I can work with this. Locking vote, post incoming.]
>>
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>>5269294
>>5269289
>>5269282
>>5269259
>>5269212
>>5269183
>>5269172
>>5269166
>>5269162
You cave to the <APPETITE>, your need for a distraction from recent and (if you’re being honest) still somewhat troubling overruling your drives towards practicality and propriety. Before anything else, you decide to pay a visit to the breeding pits.

The pits are deeper into the earth than most of the forward base, close to the well-guarded rookery which houses the resultant eggs. Reptilians are not like mammals, and certainly not like humans and goblinoids who breed profligately and year-round. Rather, the breeding cycles of Reptilians are more sporadic even than the beastmen of the eastern surface-lands; where they experience arousing and develop the ability to breed seasonally during each year, a Reptilian goes years—sometimes decades, in older ages—between feeling the urge for sexual congress and reproduction. This is for the best, as with your diminished numbers and the requirement to maintain a diversity of uniquely-specialized subraces for the sake of the Grand Design, breeding must be coordinated carefully among those Reptilians not already bound as chattel to a higher-ranked male. The breeding pits are where such un-committed pairings occur, between Reptilians closely-related enough to reliably produce a useful offspring of like type—Silkscale clan with Silkscale, for instance—but distantly-related enough to avoid deleterious effects to the bloodline.

Of course, this has always been the rationale for forbidding your entry: a Dragonborn must be bred selectively, if at all, following the Fleshweavers’ dictates. This proved especially frustrating in your early adolescence, when a powerful and perpetual such urge swelled within you every few months and carried you here to spy upon the couples in Priest-approved coitus. Now, you see the rationale in a new light… For, of course, Degenerates are forbidden to ever breed.

Hm. A lot of things really ARE beginning to lend themselves to fresh interpretation in light of last night’s empathic communion.

You watch the action for a time, taking in sights, sounds, and smells which set your blood ablaze, before your obvious and untoward interest draws the attention of Steeltalon placed to bar the spawn of shamed and genetically-inferior bloodlines, or to pry apart forbidden couplings
>>
>>5269310
“Dragonborn,” the pit-guardian acknowledges you as he approaches, swaggering with self-importance from this (frankly fairly lowly) post. “You should not be here. You are barred entry, barring a writ from the Fleshweavers. You know this well, from our LAST encounter, when you were young.”

The male is almost freakish in his size. Steeltalons are large Reptilians by default, muscular and ectomorphic, with long claws which earn them their namesake and a coiled body which can extend outwards. This one, already assuming a combative posture, is actually an equal to you in height and almost half again your wight and musculature—a rarity indeed. He has also been chasing you away from this place since before your growth spurt.

“Leave me be,” you growl, your back up from the hormones addled by the activities within the pit he protects. “I leave the forward base in a few days, and I simply desire to take what relief I will before I lead our people to victory against heresy.”

This seems to set the Steeltalon Pit-Guard off, however.

“You, a mere whelp a quarter of my age, is leading a mission to the surface?” the Pit-Guard demands. “By what right?! Size? Tainted dragon-blood?”

You narrow your eyes and hiss. The rival male goes too far, without knowing it—you are not inclined to appreciate a slight against your heritage right now.

How do you respond?
>Take the opportunity to hone your unarmed combat skills
>Test your new blade, if he will dare—take it to the sparring grounds
>Stare him down, and dare him to make something of it [Intimidation]
>Shake it off, and leave for more important matters, such as your studies
>Offer this robust male a place on your retinue
>Write-in

After this is resolved, the studies will come next
>>
>>5269312
>Take the opportunity to hone your unarmed combat skills
>Offer this robust male a place on your retinue

Fist fights make friends...
>>
>>5269312
>>5269314
+1
Let's settle it like men.
>>
>>5269312
>Take the opportunity to hone your unarmed combat skills
>Offer this robust male a place on your retinue
Having a arousal-fueled fight pounding another man with our fists isn’t gay at all, no sir!
>>
>>5269312
First
>Stare him down, and dare him to make something of it [Intimidation]
Then
>Take the opportunity to hone your unarmed combat skills
>Offer this robust male a place on your retinue
Gotta make sure he ain’t a pussy with all the bark he’s giving us. Captcha be like N4RPG.
>>
>>Test your new blade, if he will dare—take it to the sparring grounds.

This dude is larger than us, and our wing option gave increased agility not strength or durability. We might lose a fist fight.
>>
>>5269341
We can also jump really high we just have to do a vertical leaping uppercut and we'll knock his head off.
>>
>>5269341
The point of this isn’t to win, but to test his mettle and train our unarmed combat skills. We won’t get a level up in specific skills if we don use or train in them regularly.
>>
>>5269312
>Shake it off, and leave for more important matters, such as your studies
>>
>>5269339
+1
>>
>>5269312
>Shake it off, and leave for more important matters, such as your studies
>>
Rolled 9, 9 = 18 (2d20)

>>5269314
>>5269321
>>5269324
>>5269339
>>5269341
>>5269401
>>5269395
>>5269381

You tilt your head, maintaining defiant eye contact—a gesture of challenge.

“You think yourself better-suited to leading an expedition?” you ask, voice full of skepticism. “Why—because you were able to frighten and beat me when I was half the size and age I am now, Aged One?”

“Aged?!” the Steeltalon Pit-Guard cries. “Hatchling! Brat! Favoured child of no lineage, mage-grown golem!”

“Is it true,” you ask levelly, “that they assign eunuchs and those given to reproductive dysfunction the position of pit-guard? Did this come with age, or was the previous guard remiss in his duties when you were conceived?”

The pit shocked for a moment at your impudence and overt disrespect…

[Intimidate check]
>>
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Rolled 16, 15 = 31 (2d20)

>>5269407
>9
…And then he grins mirthlessly and mercilessly.

“So it is to be a fight,” he recognizes.

You crack your neck and spread arms and legs wide in a grappling stance, looking up at him with your own carnivorous ‘smile’ exposed.

“If you wish you see the surface,” you say, “then prove that you deserve the privilege.”

“You will live to regret the offer, Inexperienced One,” the Pit-Guard says.

“Or you will regret accepting the challenge,” you reply, “if you live.”

He hisses, and lunges, locking arms like coiled springs with your own and leaning weigh in excess even of your three hundred pounds. Against you, to push you back and bowl your over.
>>
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>>5269415
>15
This direct manoeuvre is a foolish one. The Steeltalon would have realized that, if he was experienced with more than handling lowborn, libidinous ruffians. A taller foe, apply top-heavy force to you in a direct charge? It’s almost laughable how easily youd riect his force, falling backwards and kicking up your hind legs and tail to flip him over you and into the opposite wall.

The fornication within the breeding-pit ceased at the sound of falling stone, as the impact dislodges and ancient and much-weathered edifice. You briefly regret the damage to ancestral architecture, and consider calling the fight… But then, the Pit-Guard rises, dazed and disoriented but unrelenting.

“Luck!” he declares of your skillful countermeasure. “Luck and trickery! Show me your fabled strength, Spawn of Dragons, not your ability to EVADE a real challenger!”

The Pit-Guard spits out a tooth, wiping blood from his mouth; he must have collided with the stone carvings of ancestral champions face-first. Still, he braces and readies for your counter-attack with respectable resilience. Well, who are you to refuse?

Frankly, with your building and unaddressed sexual frustration, the aggression is a useful good outlet.

“Well,” you say, “you asked for it, Steeltalon.”

You take a breath, filling your chest-cavity with air, and think of the surface—of the sky. You bend at the knee and, before he can registered what is happening, you are up, up, and away. The Steeltalon Pit-Guard, strong and hardy but evidently none-to-bright, stares blankly at where youw ere, and only belatedly turns his head upward to the ceiling just in time to meet your closed hand, your knuckles impacting his eye socket and slamming him to the ground.

You land astride him, and rotate your shoulder once to pop your arm back into its socket. A Steeltalon is a sturdy adversary indeed, and this one more than most! Despite this, a single blow of such magnitude was enough to level him. You’re almost disappointed.
>>
>>5269430
Well, you needn’t have been, as it turns out. He was faking unconsciousness, long enough to coil a tail around your ankle and to pull you off-balance. The Pit-Guard roars as he rises, into an uppercut which you narrowly dodge. The next strike, a frantic-but-powerful haymaker to the gut, knocks the held breath from your lungs. Still, you evade the next knock-out punch aimed at your head, staggering back as you dodge blow after blow.

“Magic!” the Steeltalon spits. “I thought I asked for an end to trickery, Dragonborn?!”

“Yes,” you acknowledge, “but then you swept the leg.”

“It is entirely different!” he protests, thrusting a leg forward to catch your knee. You buckle, falling to the other, still-good knee. “I am using martial merit, honest and hard-won strength! Where is yours? Am I sparing the females here the shallow thrusts of a weakling?!”

A crowd has gathered, chuckling their croaking chuckles at the exchange of blows and banter. The thought of losing both galls you, even as you are impressed by your adversary…

>16

…But the attention, unfamiliar to your enemy, distracts the pit-Guard more than you. He turns to survey them, and it is his undoing. You tackle him at the waist as you rise and, ignoring the pain in your knee, you rush him into the opposite wall. He roars in pain and frustration as you bowl him over, and then the blow to the face begin.

You do not stop until he relents.

The both of you draw ragged breaths, regaining your strength. He is worse for wear than you, but your knee still cries out for vengeance and retribution, even as your heart feels strangely gladdened at the victory over a worthy opponents.

“So,” the pit-Guard gasps, averting his eyes and bowing his head, “the glory is yours, after all… And the surface.”

The appreciative murmurs and favourable commentary of those in attendance is audible to you both, as are the critiques of the Pit-Guard’s failings. The area is rank with the raunchy odour of females in heat—females who, while you are barred to breed with them, now regard you with the instinctive attraction due a male who has won such a contest. Your own lust rises to meet them, as your ego swells anew, and something else swells also.

What do you do?
>Take breeding rights with the highest-status female here as your prize, Serpent Priests and Dragonborn project be damned
>Take your leave, before you do something rash—you have what you wanted, by way of a release and a test f your mettle
>Help the Pit-Guard up, and offer the formidable rival male a place in your retinue regardless of his loss
>Humiliate and mutilate the Pit-Guard before the crowd—none shall challenge your right to rule ever again
>Write-in
>>
>>5269431
>Help the Pit-Guard up, and offer the formidable rival male a place in your retinue regardless of his loss
>Take breeding rights with the highest-status female here as your prize, Serpent Priests and Dragonborn project be damned

We are dragon, we devour, we take, we rule.
>>
>>5269431
>Help the Pit-Guard up, and offer the formidable rival male a place in your retinue regardless of his loss

Calm down little guy we’ll fuck some elves later, okay?! Calm down!
>>
>>5269431
>Help the Pit-Guard up
Do not get greedy just yet, we are still only a dragon in name.
>>
>>5269431
>Help the Pit-Guard up, and offer the formidable rival male a place in your retinue regardless of his loss
>>
>>5269431
>Take breeding rights with the highest-status female here as your prize, Serpent Priests and Dragonborn project be damned
>Help the Pit-Guard up, and offer the formidable rival male a place in your retinue regardless of his loss

Now that we’ve clearly established our rights and authority as Dragonborn, we’ll take what is ours. Don’t fail us on the job, you old steel bastard.
>>
>>5269431
>Help the Pit-Guard up, and offer the formidable rival male a place in your retinue regardless of his loss
>Take a leave
I thought anons left previous quest because Ismena was a whore? ;^)
>>
>>5269527
To be fair, being a Paladin would’ve been way more engaging.
>>
>>5269431
>>Humiliate and mutilate the Pit-Guard before the crowd—none shall challenge your right to rule ever again
>>
>>5269431

>Take breeding rights with the highest-status female here as your prize, Serpent Priests and Dragonborn project be damned
Yolo
>>
>>5269431
>Take breeding rights with the highest-status female here as your prize, Serpent Priests and Dragonborn project be damned
>Humiliate and mutilate the Pit-Guard before the crowd—none shall challenge your right to rule ever again
Taking his dick as a wall mount has some twisted poetic justice to it, no?
>>
If this results in a 1/8 human bastard, I hope we get castrated.
>>
>>5269686
Have faith, catanon. They’ll break the egg before that ever happens.
>>
>>5269431
>>Help the Pit-Guard up, and offer the formidable rival male a place in your retinue regardless of his loss
>>
>>5269431
>Help the Pit-Guard up
>>
I fucking called it, first fucking chance you waifufaggots get to coom, 3 new 1 post ids show up.
>>
Rolled 4, 16 = 20 (2d20)

>>5269433
>>5269455
>>5269658
>>5269667
>>5269442
>>5269448
>>5269450
>>5269527
>>5269725
>>5269727
>>5269571

You stand tall, taking your turn to look over the desirable mates which fill out the roster. Wide, egg-bearing hips… Smooth, svelte feminine forms,… Long, smooth tails, perfect to sling under an arm or over a shoulder for leverage… And their eyes on you, their desire resting with YOU… Their dragon. A dragon conquers. A dragon TAKES. DEVOURS. RULES.

You shake your head to clear it of the untoward ambition. You are still a dragon in name only… And you already have plans in your itinerary, for which you are already late.

You offer a hand to the fallen Pit-Guard, who stares at it and then, grudgingly, accepts it.

“You were a worthy and mighty foe,” you say. It’s the truth, but you say it loudly, for the benefit of those watching. “I am going to the surface, to subjugate slaves who have dared to rise above their station. You, an enforcer of such force and skill, deserve to join me in this most noble cause. Will you do so?”

The Pit-Guard’s one eye is beginning to swell shut, but he stares lidlessly at you with the other, confused at this mercy.

“I would think you soft,” he says after a moment, “were your fists not like adamantine.”

He bows his head low again, and submits to your authority… As his new field-commander.
>>
>>5269777
Not long after, you arrive at your second appointment of the day—a more formal one, with the Novice, to study up on the mission ahead and to learn something of her discipline.

“Why are you limping?” she asks, then extends her tongue to sample the air and scrunches her face. “And why do you reek of pheromones?”

You shrug, maintaining your cool as you settle into a seat across from her at the small table—darkwood, an exotic surface-substance—for your first lesson with your new tutor.

“You know you are forbidden to breed,” she murmurs.

“More jealousy?” you taunt, to mask to pain you feel when you bend your knee and your continued virginity.

“Quiet yourself, Warmblooded One,” she snipes back. “If you injure yourself in your pitiful self-pleasure sessions, you cannot handle a Serpent Priestess.”

“A Little Sister and Novice at best,” you correct her, eliciting an irritated hiss.

“Hold still while I mend that knee,” she says. “I have no time to teach a distracted student.”

You lookdown at the Novice as she kneels before you, waving hands in arcane patterns over your injured knee. The posture is… Suggestive. In your current, frustrated state, it’s almost more than you can bare. You feel a fiery need building inside you, and begin to reach out.

“Down, boy,” she says, giving your hemipenes a hard flick with a clawed digit, and thus painfully putting an end to that line of thought. “This, too, is distraction.”

The Novice completes her healing—a minor curing of wounds, but impressive in its speed and efficacy. It is almost as if you never battled that brute of a Pit-Guard at all. Her skills are more than mere bluster, after all, it seems. Good—that’s why you’re here!

“The bruising on your torso,” the Novice says, standing up and smoothing her cloak, “is a reminder not to be a fool in the future.”

“You should see the other male,” you say, a touch boastfully.

“Even after a beating, he cannot be any more hideous than you,” she shoots back. “Are you ready to begin the lesson, Dragondick?”
>>
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>>5269814

>16

Once your ‘distraction’ dies down, your studies begin. The Novice is, as it turns out, actually as good as her reputation suggested and her father’s bloodline should warrant. She begins with the principles of exterior transformation and superficial modification first and foremost.

“Less chance of serious and fatal organ failure or permanent disability, if a Most Noble and Heroic Dragonborn fails miserably at it,” she mocks.

You narrow your eyes at the predictable jab, not in offence but as it reminds you on the persistent, nagging question in the back of your mind. Despite her warnings to avoid distraction, you cannot help but wonder… Has her father told her of your genesis? Is that why she so undermines you? You consider confronting her directly…

“When we met with the Chaplain, you seemed knowledgeable somewhat of the savage mammal-races we would encounter along either route,” you say. “I have chosen the subterranean passage.”

The Novice pauses in her readings and explanations of the manuals, and the accompanying arcane gestures. You see her tail lash, a sign of irritation masked in her expression, hidden behind mockery.

“Is the Lesser Dragonborn afraid of the big bad sun and moon?” she goads you. “Of men and of goblins?”

“Of needless glory-seeking exposing our people’s conspiracies, maybe,” you counter dryly. “We will see the surface soon enough.”

The disappointment is palpable—this female wants to explore that realm of rumor and legend even more than you, it seems!

“Fine,” she hisses. “Then you wish to learn of the outcast elves, and the path through their so-called ‘hunting grounds’?”

It seems that ‘hunting grounds’ is, indeed, a more apt term than ‘nation’ or ‘kingdom’ or even ‘territory’. These subterranean elves have been scarcely-seen by your people, their ethnography a matter of little consideration, for they are few in number and impermanent in residence.

“Or,” the Novice correct conspiratorially, “at least no such permanent settlement of size has been detected. The journey will take us by a deep lake and a series of spiderwebbing caverns, like cracks and fissure sin the deep earth. I have personally wondered if the others of their race—females, immature offspring—might dwell deeper, hidden below that maze… Maybe nearly so deep as our own race!”

“I didn’t know you liked frivolous fantasy literature,” you ridicule, drawing another rattling hiss—half annoyance, half amusement.

Regardless of whether they be nomadic troglodytes or some scouting party from a hidden kingdom, the elves are dangerous. They seem to be quite stealthy, as a Silkscale, using small units, poisons harvested from cave-arthorpods, and hit-and-run tactics against interlopers.
>>
“And we cannot simply infiltrate them, to learn more or to subvert them?” you ask. This is a frustrating lack of knowledge, from a female you are grudgingly coming to view as aknwoledgeable.
>>5269816

“Ah, it is here that our lessons converge!” the Novice says, gesturing to her manual and producing an amulet from her robes—an Amulet of Disguise.

“As even you MUST know, I would HOPE,” she begins with usual condescension, “an Amulet of Disguise is a Fleshweaver creation. That is to say, it is not mere illusion alone, but it is actually made through ancient rites, utilizing the blood taken from the targeted race. In fact, multiple INDIVIDUALS of the targeted race, so as to create a new false identity; taking from only one tends to produce an imperfect and uncanny mimicry of the blood’s original owner, which fails to convince even as it raises questions.”

“We lack sufficient samples of these elusive outcast elves’ blood,” you surmise, already seeing where she is going.

“Yes,” the Novice says excitedly, “but we have witness descriptions! They are small, dark of skin, fair of hair—all relative to their surface cousins, I mean.”

You blink. Surely she cannot mean that she has created a working disguise from descriptions alone? It beggars belief. How would one even do such a thing?

“Not from description,” she corrects you, “but from HYBRIDS. Half-elven blood, taken from the surface, and mixed with HUMAN samples… Well, and others. In the Southlands, the humans are dark; in the Northlands, there are strange little kobold-like humanoids called ‘halflings’. By mixing these together…”

The Novice stands shedding her cloak to reveal her nudity with a startling abruptness that startles you too much even to arouse you. Then, with dramatic flourish, she dons the Amulet of Disguise and…

“Behold!” she says, speaking true of the new form which she assumes: “A short, dark elf!”
>>
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>>5269818
You stare at the naked, unfamiliar form before you: female in ways that your own race’s females are not. Wide of hips, yes, but also of chest, and with soft, dark skin devoid of obvious scales or protrusions… And with a long mane of silky, golden hair.

“Well?” the Novice demands, doing a twirl to show off the entirety of this false form. “What say you? Is it not amazing work?”

You acknowledge the craft, levelly and with neutral tone, and the female… Pouts?

“I am underappreciated in my own era,” she laments, crossing her arms beneath her mammalian chest-glands. “I am surrounded by fools who lack the knowledge to even appreciate their own ignorance.”

Still, the tutelage was no waste this day. You have a better idea of what to expect in the caverns of these ‘dark elves’, and while you will not be making any Amulets of Disguise yourself anytime soon, you think you understand the underlying principles. With a couple more lessons, you might even be able to make small cosmetic changes—such as the Novice demonstrates by shifting her false body’s proportions and colouration ever so slightly.

“Perhaps we can even get rid of your ape-fluff,” she teases, swatting at your hair with a laugh.

“Perhaps,” you say, not yet committed to the idea.

“Well, that concludes the lesson plan,” she says. “You may take your leave and give me some peace from your sex-stench, if that is all?”

You hesitate. She raises an eyebrow. Why is she still in that form? Why is she still nude?!

What do you do?
>Ask the Novice about your history and heritage—did she know?
>Ask the Novice about her relationship with her father—what knowledge has he shared, which perhaps he has kept from you, about your destiny?
>Ask something else about Fleshweaving or about elves [what?]
>Ask the Novice about her opinions on party composition for your retinue
>Proposition the Novice Fleshweaver—something about that elfin-form DOES something for you, and you are still as-yet unsatisfied
>Leave to practice your own scroll’s magic, and to commune with the Dragonborn
>Write-in
>>
>>5269819
>Ask the Novice about her relationship with her father—what knowledge has he shared, which perhaps he has kept from you, about your destiny?
>Proposition the Novice Fleshweaver—something about that elfin-form DOES something for you, and you are still as-yet unsatisfied
>>
>>5269819
>Ask the Novice about your history and heritage—did she know?
>Mock her for enjoying looking like a titted monkey this much
>Leave to practice your own scroll’s magic, and to commune with the Dragonborn
Bros before apelike-hoes.

>picrel
You're gonna make our resident coomers get brain aneurysm.
>>
>>5269847
>implying that wasn’t the point

lol
>>
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>>5269861
>claiming QM was fondling his balls on purpose
while
>being so coombrained he forgot QM repeatedly saying "she's not interested, not in breeding season and dragonborn isn't supposed to put dick in silkscale"
and
>voted to fuck Novice while she looks like a gross ape anyway
right after
>Novice literally CLAWED his dick away this update
all because of
>bait choice
LOL
>reddit spacing
LMAO
>>
>>5269884
Actually, my reasons are less coomerbrained and more to confirm some suspicions I have… but yes, the QM is clearly teasing you incels at this point. Besides, we’re going to lose our virginity to an ape at this rate (and it will happen while on the job, mark my words), so losing it to a proper high status reptilian in proper reptilian fashion (i.e. meaningless rando sex) would’ve been the best and proper way to do it.
>>
>>5269819
>Ask the Novice about her relationship with her father—what knowledge has he shared, which perhaps he has kept from you, about your destiny?
>Leave to practice your own scroll’s magic, and to commune with the Dragonborn
>>
>>5269819
>Ask the Novice about her relationship with her father—what knowledge has he shared, which perhaps he has kept from you, about your destiny?

>Proposition the Novice Fleshweaver—something about that elfin-form DOES something for you, and you are still as-yet unsatisfied

She’ll say no but it will be funny to see her reaction to us liking titty apes!
>>
>>5269884
It was a playful claw! A playful claw I swear!
>>
>>5269932
More likely happy to get some appreciation for her work… until she realizes the hidden roast that she looks better as an ape than a proper lizard.
>>
>>5269819
>Leave to practice your own scroll’s magic, and to commune with the Dragonborn
>>
>>5269819
>Proposition the Novice Fleshweaver—something about that elfin-form DOES something for you, and you are still as-yet unsatisfied
>>
>>5269819
>Throw a piece of cloth at her, you will not be distracted any longer when there is a mission to organize and prepare for. Glory and renown will be soon yours, and with it this kind of mocking will be silenced.
>Ask the Novice about your history and heritage—did she know?
>Ask something else. How they fight and what kind of weapons or magic they have. If we are going to fight them is best to know it
>Leave to practice your own scroll’s magic, and to commune with the Dragonborn
If we have spare time
>Recruit your retinue with the Steeltalon aid
If not just sleep, we can prepare further tomorrow
>>
>>5269978
Know what. If you're going to vote for 15 different things I should be able to vote for 3 things. I also hate the attitude of your first action. Let's proposition the Novice. Changing my vote.

>Ask the Novice about her relationship with her father—what knowledge has he shared, which perhaps he has kept from you, about your destiny?
>Proposition the Novice Fleshweaver—something about that elfin-form DOES something for you, and you are still as-yet unsatisfied
>Leave to practice your own scroll’s magic, and to commune with the Dragonborn
>>
>>5269818
*grudgingly coming to view as knowledgeable
>>
>>5269903
>Anyone who doesn’t vote my for waifufagging and coomershit is a incel.
I hope to God, for your sake, that you are merely pretending.
>>
>>5269819
>Ask the Novice about her relationship with her father—what knowledge has he shared, which perhaps he has kept from you, about your destiny?

no proposition please people
>>
>>5269847
+1
>>
>>5270034
If you want to take away that misrepresentation of what I said, you’re free to.
>>
>>5269978
+1
Also voting against prepositioning.
>>
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>>5269903
>takes a potshot at coomers
>but wants to force dick into literally the first female we've met, who hard-rejected him (in-game + meta commentary), ooga-booga style
>gets called out for it
>makes up bullshit excuses that contradict themselves on many levels
>calls the noncoombrained anons incels
What in Dark Gods' names did he mean by this?

>>5270037
>>5270049
based anons
>>
>>5269847
>>5269978
>>5270050
Roaming ID?
>>
>>5270055
I’m not accusing anyone of anything I’m only asking. You all format the same way and have the same writing quirks with at most 2 posts on the ID.
>>
>>5270050
>thinking the propositioning will actually work
Lol. To actually explain, I was referring to the breeding pits in my example, as I don’t really waifu as much as you seem to think I do. I see the proposition as more of a cheeky insult than anything substantive.

But whatever floats your boat anon.

>>5270055
I’d usually assume samefagging after the initial couple of updates, but I know of at least one autist who does have Roaming ID, so it’s alright to be charitable in these sorts of things.
>>
>>5269819
>Proposition the Novice Fleshweaver—something about that elfin-form DOES something for you, and you are still as-yet unsatisfied
The anti-proposition reactions are funny to read.
>>
>>5269819
>Leave to practice your own scroll’s magic, and to commune with the Dragonborn
Do I have to read the last quest, skimmed the first thread and didn’t really like it
>>
>>5270158
>>5269978
>Ask something else. How they fight and what kind of weapons or magic they have. If we are going to fight them is best to know it
Add this to my vote
>>
>>5270055
>>5270079
Yes, I'm your local phonefag. Apogogies.
>>5270097
>I see the proposition as more of a cheeky insult than anything substantive.
Oh, so now
>>something about that elfin-form DOES something for you, and you are still as-yet unsatisfied
was just a "cheeky insult", and you simply didn't think to mention, that you meant it as a "cheeky insult". You also didn't specify to leave. You also argued in defense of actually fucking her.
Must've been a fluke.
>autism
Could be, but it's better than being so delusional you start believing your own lies.
>>5270146
>2 posts by this id
>secind one was "YOLO" for using breeding pits
>>
>>5270158
Nah. You'll just miss some lore, not recognize old characters (Dragonborn, Chaplain, etc), but RQM is great at providing context to all situations, so you won't find yourself confused or anything lile that. He also answers all player questions OOC.
>>
>>5269819
>Ask the Novice about her opinions on party composition for your retinue
>Ask the Novice about your history and heritage—did she know?
>>
>>5269819
>Leave to practice your own scroll’s magic, and to commune with the Dragonborn
Let them remain ignorant of our knowledge of the truth for the time being, the best time I feel is when we’ve built our power to the point that they can not use the truth of our birth against us.
>>
>>5269819
>>Leave to practice your own scroll’s magic, and to commune with the Dragonborn
Please I don't want to play an incel dragonborn
>>
>>5270270
This is your first vote. Relax.
>>
>>5269819
>>Ask the Novice about her relationship with her father—what knowledge has he shared, which perhaps he has kept from you, about your destiny?
>>
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>>5270495
>>5270270
>>5270204
>>5270185
>>5270171
>>5270158
>>5270146
>>5270049
>>5270037
>>5270036
>>5270034
>>5269982
>>5269978
>>5269965
>>5269946
>>5269932
>>5269847
>>5269837
>TABULATING
>TABULATING
>VOTES TABULATED
>POST CREATION INITIATED
>>
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>>5270608
“Why are you still in that form?” you ask, exasperated and unable to ignore it any longer.

“Hmmm?” she muses, tapping her full, elven lips. “Why? Is there some sort of… PROBLEM, Dragonborn?”

You lift your own lip in a frustrated snarl, and snatch her robes up, throwing them into her face. She flails to remove them from her vision.

“Whatever bizarre enjoyment you derive from masquerading as some chesty ape-woman, I will not be distracted like this. There is a mission to organize and prepare for, or have you forgotten? Glory and renown will be soon mine, and with it this kind of mockery will END.”

The Novice stares at you, blinking a few times, and then a wide and mischievous grin spreads across her face and she begins to titter.

“Ah, so this form’s chest provides a ‘distraction’ for you, does it? Stirs the mammalian breeding instinct? Unexpected! But I suppose it only makes sense… Given your ignoble ancestry, oh Noble One. I will take it as a compliment to my skill in crafting this guise!”

She presses the chest-mounds together, and you turn away in what you pretend is disgust, though you and she both know better. She laughs openly, and the familiar-yet-alien sound of her derision filtered through a mammalian maw makes your skin crawl and your blood-pressure rise.

“Just how much DO you know of my heritage?!” you snap, losing your cool for just an instant as your own strange instincts and stifled sexual urges disrupt your usual calm.

The Novice Fleshweaver tilts her head in apparent confusion, and asks: “What do you mean?”

“I mean what did your father, the Chaplain, tell you? About me? About my… Creation?”

She narrows her eyes, and says nothing. Her expression, veiled behind her natural cunning and the unusual and alien visage she still wears, makes her impossible to read.

“I know the entirety of it,” she says, “OBVIOUSLY.”

“Then why?” you ask her, your emotionality exploding out in a sudden burst. “Why did you—did HE—lie to me all these years? Why did you all even PRETEND I was a real Dragonborn?”

She stares, eyes wide. Immediately, you realize you have made a mistake. Damn these pubescent hormones! Damn your half-mammal mother for bequeathing you with—

No. No. You take a breath. You steady yourself. You are Dragon. You are Sovereign. You are BETTER than this.

“What do you mean?” the Novice asks quietly, donning her now ill-fitting robes and elaning in with serious expression.

You sigh. Well, if the human sacrifice is out of the bag, as it were, it’s best not to leave her to speculate. You spill the sordid story of your conception and your tainted bloodline, as you now understand it. To your surprise, the Novice seems truly ignorant of the whole affair.
>>
Rolled 20, 13 = 33 (2d20)

>>5270636
“I thought you a failed experiment in dragon-hybridization,” she mutters, looking at you with renewed interest, “but THIS…”

You wait for the usual verbal abuse.

“…This is FAR more fascinating,” she says.

“Wait,” you say, “what?”

“Think about it!” she exclaims. “Your phenotype is… Draconic! The fur is an aberration, the body imperfect, the mind obviously somewhat polluted by mammalian thoughts and instincts…”

You grimace inwardly. THERE she is, your childhood tormenter.

“…But all these years, I genuinely thought you Dragonborn! A poorly-constructed one, but a TRUE Dragonborn!”

You meet her eyes, surprised to hear the admission. She shows no remorse, nor disgust, just… Excitement. What she says next shocks you even more.

“Fleshweaving can make a being like you, a SUPERIOR being transcendent of its component parts, out of… Genetic GARBAGE. You are proof-of-concept for my own theories—that the spirit and the will have nearly as much effect in how a being develops as the bloodline! You think you are a Dragonborn, and so you ARE a Dragonborn!”

“…I am?” you ask. It wasn’t necessarily in doubt, but you hardly expected THIS female, of all Reptilians, to agree.

She nods eagerly, eyeing you like you were a living God... Or perhaps an especially-impressive monster.

“Why do you think the Chalain kept such a secret?” you ask again. “What did he intend?”

“Perhaps Father wishes to preserve the traditional hierarchy?” she suggests, clearly uncertain herself. “If Reptilians of lesser stripe realized that they could be everything you are… Or I am… Or HE is… With a few sessions with a suitably-skilled Fleshweaver… Well, why deny ANYONE access to the breeding pits? Why afford ANY caste special privilege?”

You mull over this notion yourself. It seems… Heretical. Fundamentally WRONG.

“Go,” the Novice Fleshweaver commands (how dare she!), waving you away (outrage!). “I have much to thin about.”

“Fine,” you say, standing. “I have OTHER studies to attend to, anyway.”

DC 18, because: you aren't a Serpent Priest; you have no teacher in Divination; you are sexually-frustrated and emotionally-compromised
>>
>>5270640
yes
we finally shall reform reptilian society to something more sensible
>>
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>>5270640
You return to your room—NOT to your brother’s chamber with his nubile young harem, not in your current state—and focus your energies upon your education. Study, the enlightenment of mind and the ascension of your ascetic spirit, THESE will be your path to inner peace and glorious victory!

Unable to calm the raging fire within your chest, your stomach, your loins, you focus your inner flame to an intensity like dragon-fire, and turn it upon the scroll which you spread out before you. It is a single page, almost more a poster than a scroll, but the single great sigil it bears in intricate in the extreme—a pattern of overlayed star-signs, incomprehensible angles, and interwoven patterns. Words weave through it—Reptilian True-Script and otherwise, woven into the pattern, forming shapes-within-shapes. You try to read them one way, then another, left-to-right and bottom-to-top and then in reverse or in circling patterns.

Your mind is awash in seemingly unaffiliated information and nonsensical ramblings, but you do not allow yourself to get distracted. You REFUSE to think of the Novice, or the breeding-pits, or of your unorthodox origins. You think only of MASTERY, not of your et past but of your uncertain future—of seeing it, and of molding it…

>20

And by the Dark Gods Below and Beyond, it WORKS! At the eleventh hour (literally, for all you know) you have a breakthrough. Your eyes grow foggy and vision hazy and duplicated with the intensity of your scrutiny, and it is in THAT moment of wavering consciousness that the interlocking phrases, patterns, shapes, and sigils coalesce into a single, concrete whole!

>+1 rank in Divination

You feel your mind and soul open up, like a third eye beholding sights your other two have been blind to all your life.

What do you see?
>GAME OF DISTORTION (courtesy of “I’m a demon?”):
>Each player may post one picture, with or without a short phrase to accompany it. It can be anything, anything at all. I will roll if a huge abundance arrive and I don’t feel I can incorporate them all; those thus chosen will be incorporated into the quest… Though maybe not exactly literally, or as you expect.
>>
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>>5270636
And once again.
Shit.
>>
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>>5270646
Silkworm Physiology.
>>
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>>5270646

>>5269978
>>5269847
Didn't these guys admit to being the same person so mocking didn't win? Not that it matter since it was woven well into our current relationship with the novice anyways and with the other options.
>>
>>5270654
Obviously this doesn't count as a phrase by the way.
>>
>>5270646
Money
>>
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>>5270646
Genesis
>>
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>>5270646
HAUGHTY NOVICE CLOACA
>>
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>>5270646
And the world shall burn.

>>5270172
>ignores the three 1posters that agree with him
The copieum is strong with this samefag.
>>
>>5270647
[I try my best. Please feel free to offer criticism in the QTG. I promise to check it out and to consider it.]
>>
>>5270688
Noted
>>
>>5270646
>>
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>>5270646
I love you. Egg inclusion would be rad.
>>
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>>5270646
Congratulations
>>
You see visions of… What? Past? Present places, far away/ Future events yet to come? Is this… A warning rom the Gods? A promise? The Grand Design itself, such as your mortal mind can conceive it?!

“What is this?” you gasp.

>>5270653
>>5270654
You see swathes of silken strands, wrapping around and around, binding figures whose feature you cannot make out… An adhesive trap, woven by bugs? The outcast elves, maybe?

And… Kobolds… Kobolds pretending to be something they are not. Pretenders. The heretics? What do they pretend to be? You see only the artifice, not the objective. Is it simply that they seek to rise above their individual weakness through collective action? No, no… There is more. Their aspirations are more sinister… More heinous…

The vision is lost. Another replaces it. So many! So fast!

“I… Do not… Understand,” you groan, falling from your cot and gripping your head.

>>5270658
>>5270709
>>5270672
You see riches—a veritable hoard! A cache worthy of a true dragon! Enough wealth to banish all doubts to your righteous claim to the title Dragonborn… Enough to tell even the Serpent priesthood to fuck off! Accolades shower you, even as your detractors fall away.

“H-heresy,” you grumble, though half-heartedly.

Yes… Heresy. You see a vision of your world burning around you—smell the scent of roasting flesh and hear screams… Even as you look down and see the haughty, yet pleasure-wracked face of…

“The Novice?” you groan.

No… Yes? Maybe… You see Reptilian features, and humanoid ones, all feminine, all desirable, all enmeshed incomprehensibly with one another. All… Familiar. A shamefully unseasonable arousal swells your flesh again as you claw at the floor, struggling to regain control of your senses.

“There is no control,” you hear a voice whisper, and at once roar, from the space between spaces whence these visions erupt. “The ride is beginning. This is a new genesis!”
>>
>>5270798

>>5270665

‘Genesis.’ The word is a trigger for another change of scene. You stand at the foot of a mountain, and the mountain is…

“Me?” you ask aloud.

Yes, you… But not you. Towering, titanic, terrific, and utterly draconic… Taller than the Green Dragonborn, and winged, and magnificent in your glory, standing sentinel with a sword that could fell the greatest stalagmites of the most ancient caverns—which could cut down mountains at the knee! Behind you… An entire ARMY of Dragonborns, green and red and otherwise, with you’re their copper-coloured king!

“But… I am not Dragon,” you admit, you lament. “Not yet.”

“I… Do not understand,” you repeat.

>>5270700


“You do,” The Chaplain asserts.

You stare at him from where you are seated now, in the small private quarters adjunct to the Star Chamber. You have been there only once, and yet… You sense that this is not a memory fo that instance.

“Fleshweaving modifies,” he says, an answer to an unasked question, spoke by… Soemone else. “It adds genes, suppresses phenotypes, modifies capabilities. It is additive. It does not SUBTRACT. We can build upon a base with it, adding strength to cover or offset underlying weaknesses… But we cannot REMOVE that weakness if it is at the core of a being.”

You feel a creeping dread, as if… As if you HAVE been here before. But how? When? He has never said such to you—never acknowledged your humanity as more than an unforntunate and minor ingredient in your ‘genesis’.

“Your brain,” he continues now, speaking to you, through you, past you, “your very SELF, is in fundamental aspect a mammalian one—a HUMAN one.”

“Then why?” you demand of this phantom-Chaplain. “Why was I permitted to live, to hold status as I do?”

“Because…” speaks another voice, softly and sadly…

>>5270702

“…Because I love you.”
>>
>>5270799

You turn around, to see who the Chaplain was speaking to, and you see… Yellow eyes. Tawny-brown skin and copper-red hair. A human countenance, and yet… Not. And she speaks your race’s noble tongue, the True Speech.

“Mother.”

The sad face smiles, and the sadness dissipates a little.

“Grow strong,” she says. “I saved my <DIVINE FAVOUR>, a gift from the Dark Gods, so that you would grow strong.”

“I do not require your aid…” you begin, too proud to accept a Degenerate’s donation, however divine the scum purports it to be.

“You will,” she asserts. “You are my <LEGACY>. I was a <LOYAL VASSAL>, and when I…”

She looks away, into a darkness, where a creeping presence lurks just beyond the periphery of senses—a creeping shadow which you instinctively avert your eyes from.

“When my story ended,” your mysterious mother’s spectre continues, “I passed it onto you. You are our Champion, my offspring. My champion. The champion of the Dark Gods themselves.”

You feel a surge of unearned pride, despite the utter enigma of this entire experience. But… What do the Dark Gods require of you? To what end will you champion their cause?

“A reckoning is coming,” the Degenerate-Ghost warns. “Something with all the terrible fury of a dragon, but in service to our utter destruction. In such times, our human ancestors turned to their ‘Paladins.’ But we, the Reptilian Master Race… We have no such equivalent. Not until you… My Dragonborn Antipaladin.”

A skeletal hand reaches out from the darkness, resting upon your mother’s shoulder. She reaches up to lay her own hand upon it…

And then, she is gone. You are alone in your chamber. You are yourself again, your senses once more your own. You look frantically about, but there is… Nothing. No ghosts, or demons, or lovers, or foes. No gods. No apparition of death. Only… You.

You mediate, steadying yourself with your old practices. You force yourself to let the visions exit your mind… And you rest, as best you can. Then, sensing that too much time has passed to remain much longer in your quarters, you rise, and return to the business of the present, though the visions are never far from your mind.

What do you do first?
>Go to the old temple to pray to the Dark Gods, and to seek their guidance
>Speak with the Chaplain about your mother
>Begin planning and mustering your retinue [specify if you consult with the Pit-Guard, Novice, both, or neither]
>Practice your swordplay and archery in the sparring-grounds
>Write-in

[Choose one, please.]
>>
>>5270800
>Write-in
Ouroboros
>>
>>5270800
>Speak with the Chaplain about your mother

The time for secrets is over. We must know more about our mother.
>>
>>5270806
Eh?
>>
>>5270800
M-m-m-mommy
>Speak with the Chaplain about your mother
>>
>>5270810
I think he has a vore fetish and wants us to devour our own tail in an act of self-pleasure.
>>
>>5270806
Ouroboros
>>
>Go to the old temple to pray to the Dark Gods, and to seek their guidance.

The dark gods may know what the Kobolds are up to.
>>
>>5270800
>Go to the old temple to pray to the Dark Gods, and to seek their guidance
>>
Oh, and speaking of dream sequences, I believe I promised something special in my last thread.

NSFW: https ibb co TPGfb11
>>
>>5270800
>Speak with the Chaplain about your mother
>>
>>5270800
>Go to the old temple to pray to the Dark Gods, and to seek their guidance
It is time to reaffirm our commitment and loyalty to the Dark Gods.
>>
>>5270800
>Go to the old temple to pray to the Dark Gods, and to seek their guidance
>>
>>5270828
Thanks for the art commission btw RQM!
>>
>>5270800
>>Go to the old temple to pray to the Dark Gods, and to seek their guidance
>>
>>5270800
>Go to the old temple to pray to the Dark Gods, and to seek their guidance
>>
>>5270800
>Practice your swordplay and archery in the sparring-grounds
>>
>>5270800
>>Speak with the Chaplain about your mother
>>
>>5270800
>>Speak with the Chaplain about your mother
>>
>>5270806
>>5270809
>>5270812
>>5270813
>>5270815
>>5270827
>>5270839
>>5270829
>>5270865
>>5270874
>>5270911
>>5270919
>>5271049
>>5271144
[Locking for the Temple! Post to come soon.]

>>5270873
No prob, there's a non-lewd coming soon, too.
>>
>>5270873
Couldn't find anything; am i retarded?
>>
>>5271172
It's in hex.
>>
>>5271177
Soo...I need to convert it someway? Ascii to hex will do the job?
>>
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>>5271172
>>
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Rolled 6, 6 = 12 (2d20)

Though the Star Chamber is reserves for grandest and most pivotal ceremonies, and locked against non-Serpent Priests in-between such events, there are other chapels in the Forward Base. In your more troubled and tumultuous youth, you would sometimes go to such places, praying for help and guidance. Well… You have had guidance, now after a fashion, but it has only raised further questions. What on the Gods’ Own Earth did all that nonsense MEAN?!

“A reckoning is coming,” you mutter, recalling your apparent mother’s words.

Whatever this is about, it sounds important, and like you are at the centre of it. You need to understand, and plan. Preparation is nine-tenths of the conquest, as they say! You do not wish to be interrupted, either. Thus, you descend into a most abandoned and forgotten quarter just outside of the forward-base proper, where you once went to be alone with your thoughts and prayers: the Abandoned Chapel.

Half-collapsed statues to gods and demigods are erected here. You follow a coiled, lovingly-detailed tail which encircles the space: that of Ouroboros, the Dark God who it I said set the cycles of the world in motion, and to who the future is already past, and to who the present shall come again… Whatever all that means. You were always more interested in matters draconic than theological.

You stake out your usual preferred altar to kneel, and to begin your chanting. As is Glorious Tradition, they rise in volume, increase in speed, until you are making ululating supplications. You beseech the aid of a god, calling out for <Guidance>
>>
>>5271158
>>5271186
>6
…But no guidance comes. Just as in your childhood—as every day until a few hours ago—the gods are silent. You are alone, with no company but your own echoes and your own emotions. You exhale a held breath, and loo up at the shrines, one by one, taking in the dispassionate faces and staring eyes of the dozen-or-so Dark Gods whose <DIVINE FAVOUR> your mother alleged earned and passed on. You feel no different… You have no idea what this <FAVOUR> could even mean. You certainly don’t feel more ‘favoured’. You head is still pounding from your dream. What do they want from you? What are you meant to do, to BE?

Perhaps you need to be more specific. You seek explanations, in terms you can understand… SI there not a God for that? And in your vision… You sensed another presence, with your mother. You know it, though you feared to acknowledge it: Death. Your eyes settle upon a bloodstained stone altar at the cavern's centre; if you don't wish to risk your own life, you will need to offer up another, when reaching out to such an entity unbidden.

Or maybe, just maybe, the Gods will not help those who cannot help themselves. Worse, maybe they will offer the likes of YOU no help at all—they certainly never did in your childhood.

What do you do?
>Call out to the God of Reason and Logic, Master of the Insightful Eye
>Find a sacrifice and attempt to contact Death
>Leave this place, to go prove yourself the worthy beneficiary of this so-called ‘Divine Favour’
>Smash the altar in a fit of rage—you need no distant deities, for you are to be Dragon! They will see, if they have eyes to do so!
>Write-in
>>
>>5271194
>>Call out to the God of Reason and Logic, Master of the Insightful Eye
Here it comes, autistic dragon
>>
>>5270800
>Call out to the God of Reason and Logic, Master of the Insightful Eye
Insightful eye, divination? sounds good
>>
>>5271194
>Leave this place, to go prove yourself the worthy beneficiary of this so-called ‘Divine Favour’
We’ll prove ourselves worthy of our own Divine Favor.
>>
>>5271194
> Leave this place, to go prove yourself the worthy beneficiary of this so-called ‘Divine Favour’
Dark Crusade inbound!
>>
>>5271194
>Leave this place, to go prove yourself the worthy beneficiary of this so-called ‘Divine Favour’
>>
>>Call out to the God of Reason and Logic, Master of the Insightful Eye.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>5271194
>Call out to the God of Reason and Logic, Master of the Insightful Eye
>Find a sacrifice and attempt to contact Death
And I'm summoning Dark God RNG to decide which one.
>>
>>5271194
> Leave this place, to go prove yourself the worthy beneficiary of this so-called ‘Divine Favour’
Fer Valurrrr
>>
>>5270658
This is me I’m phoneposting from work
>5271194
>Leave this place, to go prove yourself the worthy beneficiary of this so-called ‘Divine Favour’
>>
>>5271183
Thx
>>
>>5271194
>Call out to the God of Reason and Logic, Master of the Insightful Eye
>>
>>5271194
>Leave this place, to go prove yourself the worthy beneficiary of this so-called ‘Divine Favour’
>>
>>5271194
>Leave this place, to go prove yourself the worthy beneficiary of this so-called ‘Divine Favour’
Witness me.
>>
>>5271194
>Call out to the God of Reason and Logic, Master of the Insightful Eye
>>
>>5271194
>>Call out to the God of Reason and Logic, Master of the Insightful Eye
>>
[Welp, we have an exact tie, if I counted right, between petitioning a divinity and setting out to prove the Dragonborn's mettle. Does any enterprising non 1-post ID voter wish to break the stalemate, or shall I roll for it?

Calling it in 50 minutes.]
>>
>>5271704
>>Call out to the God of Reason and Logic, Master of the Insightful Eye
>>
>>5271704
You want a non-1 post? Then you get the next best thing! A 2 post!
>>
>>5271724
[It'll do in a pinch.]
>>
>>5271194
>Leave this place, to go prove yourself the worthy beneficiary of this so-called ‘Divine Favour’
One more God rejected
>>
>>5271739
29 second from the 50 minute lock lmao poor QM
>>
>>5271741
Oh fuck did I restart the lock?, In the name of moving this show along I'll change sides
>>
>>5271744
I don't think it restarts, I think they'll just roll since it tied right at the end.
>>
Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>5271204
>>5271225
>>5271261
>>5271275
>>5271321
>>5271335
>>5271343
>>5271344
>>5271345
>>5271408
>>5271422
>>5271461
>>5271465
>>5271501
>>5271717
>>5271739
>>
>>5271751
>>5271751
>odd number
>Leave this place, to go prove yourself the worthy beneficiary of this so-called ‘Divine Favour’
You take a moment to carefully consider your option. The Master of the Insightful Eye is a bringer of clarity… But at a price. ALL the Dark Gods demand repayment, and favours for favours. Why wouldn’t they? They are mightier, better… And they, unlike the weak false gods of the surface-vermin, they do not pretend at any silly slave-morality of altruism or noblisse oblige. They admit what is plainly true of the universe: the strong make the rules, and the weak follow.

And right now… You are The Weak.

You nervously meet the stony glare of the Insightful Eye’s altar-effigy, and remember his other name: The Baleful Beholder. No, you will not draw his ever-watchful gaze upon you… Not until you have something to show for yourself. Certainly, you will not risk troubling Death, dreaded even by his other siblings. You bow once more, whisper a quick prayer, and hurry away from this place. It has brought you no peace… But doing great works, THAT will settle your restless spirit.

How will you prove your worth?

>Practice your swordplay and archery at the sparring arena—you will not be alone, as you would have been earlier, but this will simply give you more chances to build your reputation and prove your worth
>Summon the Pit-Guard to aid you in recruiting a fearsome band of killers—you will rout the elves and kobolds in a terrifying fashion, and offer up their most heinous criminals as an offering to earn the Favour
>Return to the Dragonborn’s chamber, to immerse yourself in meditation and strengthen your connection to your draconic ancestry—what is closer to godliness than dragon-ness?
>Proceed further into the Abandoned Regions, known to play host to the occasional monstrosity or abberation, and use your <Guidance> to seek out a worthy foe to slay
>Write-in
>>
>>5271765
>>Return to the Dragonborn’s chamber, to immerse yourself in meditation and strengthen your connection to your draconic ancestry—what is closer to godliness than dragon-ness?
>>
>>5271765
>Return to the Dragonborn’s chamber, to immerse yourself in meditation and strengthen your connection to your draconic ancestry—what is closer to godliness than dragon-ness?
>>
>>5271765
>Proceed further into the Abandoned Regions, known to play host to the occasional monstrosity or abberation, and use your <Guidance> to seek out a worthy foe to slay

To earn deaths favor we must stare down deaths black maw with no fear, no hesitation. Our first mistake was averting our gaze from them when we saw them in our divination.

There is no favor to earn when our life is not at risk, when death is not shadowing our every moment.
>>
>>5271765
>Practice your swordplay and archery at the sparring arena—you will not be alone, as you would have been earlier, but this will simply give you more chances to build your reputation and prove your worth
>>
>>5271765
>>Proceed further into the Abandoned Regions, known to play host to the occasional monstrosity or abberation, and use your <Guidance> to seek out a worthy foe to slay

Let's go exploring. After all, what could possibly go wrong?
>>
>>5271765
>Return to the Dragonborn’s chamber, to immerse yourself in meditation and strengthen your connection to your draconic ancestry—what is closer to godliness than dragon-ness?
>Proceed further into the Abandoned Regions, known to play host to the occasional monstrosity or abberation, and use your <Guidance> to seek out a worthy foe to slay

Wait i don’t see a chose one prompt
>>
>>5271793
It makes sense for it to be a pick one, though. You can't really go meditate and adventure at the same time.
>>
>>5271794
Bring the freebie dragon along for an adventure
>>
>>5271765
>Summon the Pit-Guard to aid you in recruiting a fearsome band of killers—you will rout the elves and kobolds in a terrifying fashion, and offer up their most heinous criminals as an offering to earn the Favour
The Dirty Dozen play is a good idea (and a great movie). If anons aren’t hot on the idea, then I’d support >>5271793 instead, because nothing beats slaying monsters and hanging out with your bros.
>>
>>5271765
>Return to the Dragonborn’s chamber, to immerse yourself in meditation and strengthen your connection to your draconic ancestry—what is closer to godliness than dragon-ness?
>>
Rolled 16, 16, 3, 8 = 43 (4d20)

>>5271767
>>5271768
>>5271793
>>5271839
>>5271828
>>5271789
>>5271774
>>5271781
The next best thing to a Dark God, you rationalize, is a Dragon King—their champions, their emissaries in aeons past. As such, the correct course of action is exactly what you would have been doing anyway—hanging out with your elder brother, the Green Dragonborn!

You return to his chamber, excitement overflowing almost immediately as soon a you see your oldest friend and confidante. You blurt out the entire incident—the studying of the scroll, the resultant vision, the visit to the shrine… The feeling, even now, that history has its eyes on you. It’s uncanny—you shudder with dread as much as anticipation.

“Hrm,” he notes, nodding along.

You’re… Not entirely certain how much the Great One understands of it. He’s never demonstrated any religiosity but, then, he is scarcely even incorporated into Reptilian society. He spends almost all his time in this room, or being examined by Fleshweavers, or demonstrating his capabilities in controlled conditions. As the two of you shuffle in back-to-back and shut your eyes, allowing your spiritual communion to commence, you reflect on how… SAD it is, for a winged behemoth like your brother—a natural KING of scalykind—to be trapped in a few small-for-him spaces and consigned to the shameful role of non-combatant curiosity...
>>
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>>5271882
>16
The longer you reflect on it, the more antithetical it seems. A dragon does not rest on its laurels—well, it DOES, but only after a conquest is complete and a hoard accumulated! The other Dragonborn has his trophy-wives, his mates-with-whom-he-cannot-mate, but nothing else—no other servants, no property, no FREEDOM.

“Not allowed,” the Great One rumbles, when you open your eyes and confront him with this truth… But you both instinctively sense the absurd incongruity of the statement. A dragon is never ‘allowed’ anything. A dragon TAKES. A dragon DICTATES.

“Troub-bul,” the Green Dragonborn warns. “You will suff-fur for lie-ying,, Litt-tul Bro-thur. If found out… Bad, bad thing.”

You meet his eyes, and turn away, faltering briefly as your thoughts turn towards the Chaplain, and the upcoming mission. It’s true—as the Great One sensed, a part of you had been considering taking off on some whirlwind adventure into the caves below, and bringing him in tow. There is not a beat or fiend in all these time-lost tunnels who could stand against the two of you together!

…But the Great One has trouble fitting through narrow spaces. If you were to end up ambushed or otherwise engaged in close quarters, he would be at a disadvantage… And you, you have never actually FOUGHT, outside of childish brawls and sparring matches. And if you were discovered… What would become of your privileged status? Of your place at the head of your first mission?

What do you do?
>Your dragon-brother comes first—you two noble males shall descend into the unknown and slaughter, rising up to renown as conquering kings!
>Journey into the caverns below in search of glory… But leave the other Dragonborn, sparing him the possible consequences and keeping any credit for yourself
>Forget it, for this notion of an expedition was foolhardy at best, and absolutely foolish at worst; focus on your mediation [no adventures before the expedition, but you will earn another dragon-spell]
>Ask the Novice to cover for you while the two of you sneak down below [will owe her a favour]
>Write-in
>>
>>5271904
>Ask the Novice to cover for you while the two of you sneak down below [will owe her a favour]

WE. ARE. DRAGON.

Part of his stupidity has to be because of how sheltered he is, right? Some actual freedom should do him well, and the Novice already owes us a favor so we can exchange it if she asks for something too crazy.
>>
>>5271904
>Ask the Novice to cover for you while the two of you sneak down below [will owe her a favour]
I love big brother
>>
>>5271904
>Ask the Novice to cover for you while the two of you sneak down below [will owe her a favour]
bros 5ever
>>
>>5271904
>>Forget it, for this notion of an expedition was foolhardy at best, and absolutely foolish at worst; focus on your mediation [no adventures before the expedition, but you will earn another dragon-spell]
>>
>>5271904
>Forget it, for this notion of an expedition was foolhardy at best, and absolutely foolish at worst; focus on your mediation [no adventures before the expedition, but you will earn another dragon-spell]
>>
>>5271904
>>Forget it, for this notion of an expedition was foolhardy at best, and absolutely foolish at worst; focus on your mediation [no adventures before the expedition, but you will earn another dragon-spell]
>>
>>5271904
>Forget it, for this notion of an expedition was foolhardy at best, and absolutely foolish at worst; focus on your mediation [no adventures before the expedition, but you will earn another dragon-spell]
>>
>>5271904
>Your dragon-brother comes first—you two noble males shall descend into the unknown and slaughter, rising up to renown as conquering kings!

Fuck it, I’m down for it.
>>
>>5271904
>>Your dragon-brother comes first—you two noble males shall descend into the unknown and slaughter, rising up to renown as conquering kings!
>>
[Locking for adventure -- post forthcoming]
>>
>>5271915
>>5271926
>>5271934
>>5271944
>>5271995
>>5271998
>>5272026
>>5272060
>>5272166
Your brother’s… Difficulties. Surely some of them stem not from his origins, but from the conditions in which he lived? And now, well… The quality of his cage has improved, but a gilded cage is still suited for a drake at best, and never for a dragon.

You rumbles uncertainly, but you reassure him, saying: “Fear not, Elder Brother. I have a solution to the problem of the Chaplain’s permissions.”

That solution is, of course, the Novice. After all, she already owes you a favour.

“Do I now, So-Called Dragonborn?” she asks rhetorically. You get the feeling that she, at least, feels that she does not.

“You do,” you assert. “If it were not for me, you would not be on the mission, you may recall.”

The Novice once more wears her own scales, and cloth atop it, and yet you find yourself struggling to look directly at her without distraction. The vision lingers in your mind, of her face n the throes of ecstasy and her body—WAS it her body? Her face, even?—beneath you. Her cloaca…

The Novice waves a hand before your face, snapping you out of your reverie.

“Is your oh-so-HUMAN mind misfiring, Degenerateborn? Did you not hear what I just said?”

You shake off the strange and confusing imagery you saw, and listen more carefully as the Novice explains her rationale:

“I am keeping your secret,” she says, with obvious annoyance at repeating herself but VERY obvious delight at the power she now wields over you, at least in her mind. “You have no retinue yet, no victory, no glory… Only the reputation of your ALLEGED draconic bloodline to command respect and grant status more than that of a Degenrate.”

“The Serpent Priests—” you begin to protest.

“They have given you command,” she acknowledges, “but do you REALLY want the complications which come with the truth being revealed before the expedition, or during it? The disrespect, second-guessing, jockeying for leadership…”

“You do not know that this is what will happen,” you say calmly.

“I do,” she asserts, and with a knowing look in her eye.

You stall for time to think, asking sardonically: “And I suppose that, if keeping my secret is a favour performed, then to earn your cooperation in hiding mine and my… And the Great One’s… Brief visit to the ruined and abandoned places will incur another?”

The Novice simply smiles in confirmation, tail swishing back and forth and her whole body fidgeting with sadistic glee.

“What sort of favour?” you demand.

Her smile only grows, dark eyes shining with sinister mirth.

You sigh.

Do you accept the bargain?
>Yes—you will owe the Novice a favour
>No—you will NOT be indebted to this precocious female, and will instead take your chances
>No—and you will attempt to bargain with her to accept another deal [specify your proposal]
>Write-in
>>
>>5272278
>Yes. Here's the favour we'll give : grant her a slot for the snake of her choice in the team
>>
>>5272284
Support
>>
>>5272278
>No—you will NOT be indebted to this precocious female, and will instead take your chances
If only we knew the sacred spell of masturbation...
>>
>>5272278
>No - she may reveal our heritage as she wishes. This is the favor we're requesting.
>>
>>5272278
>Yes—you will owe the Novice a favour
>>
>>5272278
>If you reveal us you will not see the surface
Her coming to the surface is predicated on us if she reveals our heritage the expedition is gone and her chance to see the surface gone
>>
>>5272284
Support, I ain’t giving her a free conditional favor here. She’ll accept it, because if she undermines our authority, she also undermines her biggest reason for coming along- us- and it won’t be just us jockeying for position in the hierarchy after that, if you get what I’m saying.
>>
>>5272492
It's original vote anon with IP switch.
That, and we can rub in her lack of nose the fact she doesn't hav any friend nor contact except us
>>
>>5272278
>No—you will NOT be indebted to this precocious female, and will instead take your chances
Freedom is ours. Even if she maliciously goes spreading rumours, we are Dragon, and social tricks will not undermine our destiny. We go forth w the green dragonbro.
>>
>>5272284
Support

It’s a minor thing to grant

We can I’ll afford rumours spreading before our first victory
>>
>>5272278
>No—you will NOT be indebted to this precocious female, and will instead take your chances
I'm particularly fatigued with this woman. At this point I'd gladly let her run amok and spread whatever petty rumors she wishes, see if that'll stop us from fulfilling our destiny.
>>
>>5272284
+1
I’ll support this since it’s basically my first vote but narrower
>>
Rolled 12, 8, 3 = 23 (3d20)

>>5272690
>>5272676
>>5272674
>>5272608
>>5272492
>>5272453
>>5272441
>>5272409
>>5272311
>>5272298
>>5272284
[Locking for "yes, but the favour is choosing a member of the retinue." Reptilian Empathy roll determines how well it goes. Posting within the hour, most likely!]
>>
>>5272946
“Female,” you address her with great derision, without proper title, “you cause me a particular sort of fatigue.”

“A weak constitution, is it?” she chides, tutting. “Another defect in our Defective Dragonborn?”

You glower, but she is nonplussed. You sigh. You can ill afford to lose face before you have built up a reputation with a victory, and she well knows this. Even so…

“If you reveal my secret, your own chance to see the surface will be lost along with my own future,” you point out.

“Nonsense!” The Novice says cheerily. “The Chaplain assigned you this task, and he already knows what you are.”

“If another males ousts me, do you think he will be as permissive of your childish attempts at subterfuge and psychological warfare?”

“I suppose we’ll see!” she says, seemingly unbothered.

You meet her gaze levelly, attempting to stare her down… But damnit, the Novice will not break, even to your Presence!

>12

“Fine,” you spit, “you may choose a member of your choice for our retinue, if you keep the secret of my birth and prevent your father from learning of my departure with the Green Dragonborn.”

“W-what?” she stammers. “No! That isn’t how this works – you don’t get to choose the favour! I do, OBVIOUSLY!”

“Take it or leave it,” you day sternly, crossing your arms. “I will not give the likes of you the opportunity to lord an unconditional debt over my head indefinitely, you exasperating creature. Besides, surely one as highborn and well-connected as you has many allies who might fill the slot?”

“But I don’t have…” she trails off, averting her eyes for the first time. She is still now, no longer fidgeting happily… And when she moves again, it is a discomfited squirming. Her smarmy expression gains an odd edge to it when she meets your eyes once more.

“I will choose an entire research staff,” she says. “Four more experts in fields of my choosing. This will leave you the freedom to select another eight meat-shields to keep us safe as we attend to our REAL work.”

You groan, and roll your shoulders in a shrug. That’s seven more worthy males, after the Pit-Guard is accounted for: a party of 14, all said and done. Respectable.

“Yes, alright,” you relent. “Trouble me no longer. I have more important things to attend to.”

“Like gallivanting around, playing with your ‘brother’? Ha! Have fuu~uun! Your secret waste-of-time is safe with me!”

You pointedly ignore her as you leave.
>>
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Of course the Novice Fleshweaver would not understand you brotherly quest, spoiled intellectual that she is. At least she lives up to her end of the bargain, arriving later in the Great One’s chamber on an ‘rescheduled physical examination’, and thus dismissing guards and Silkscale harem-wenches alike.

“More privacy,” she says, “to plan my entourage, and to plan how next to best you!”

Your elder brother grumbles mightily, eliciting a moment’s hesitation from the Novice, and a quick step back, but you call him off. Leave her to move her pieces about an arduous game of strategy against nobody in particular. You will be troubled no longer by thoughts of her—you will be chasing GLORY!

It is no easy thing to sneak the Green Dragonborn out of his chamber, even with the Novice’s assistance. He must hunch, even crawl, to make it through many of the tunnels, and you must remain several yards ahead to scout for witnesses and to run interference. It is slow going, but once you are out of the occupied areas of the ancient ruins, the process expedites considerably. You register his discomfort in the undersized spaces and, eager to give the Great One a taste of well-deserved freedom, you choose passages which you know from past experience will lead to a more open expanse as swiftly as possible.

When you arrive in the first of the great subterranean caverns, the other Dragonborn practically hurls you from the tunnel in his rush to reach the open space and to stretch his wings. With a roar of triumph and relief, he stands tall, ducking his head only slightly to avoid smacking it on an especially tremendous stalactite. His delight at the unfamiliar and open area becomes your own delight. You are happy to see him happy.

You both take in the space: a trickling stream which must once have been a rushing river to have carved out the smooth-floored space; mosses and lichens, and a few fungi with fruiting bodies nearly the size of a Silkscale male; luminous strands of glowworm goo hanging rom the high ceiling among the rocky outcroppings; a few flitting cave-bats, eyeless and keening at the edge of your hearing, chased by amphibious newts. It’s… Actually sort of cozy, an underground space like a private and hidden grove-in-grotto.

“Pretty,” the Great One acknowledges, swatting at a cave bat in an attempt to snatch it up and crush it; a narrow miss.

“Yes,” you agree, frowning. It’s pretty… But not exactly EPIC or HEROIC.
>>
>>5273002
You look around, seeing three avenues out of this place, besides the way by which you entered:
>a series of stony shelves, which (with a <Jump>) you could reach, leading to a highly-placed hole; it’s small, and you would need to enter alone
>the path of the stream, down which you (and even the Green Dragonborn!) could slide, down into deep places unknown… Though a return trip could prove difficult, depending where it leads
>A fissure in the earth, narrow but tall, into which the two of you could squeeze… But, if it grows narrower still, you may be forced to travel alone as you get further in, and the Great One will certainly be unable to use his reach and size to full advantage if you are ambushed
Or, of course you could…
>Camp out here, and use some rations in an attempt to lure and entrap a beastie here in the main cavern, close to the exit and with full range-of-motion for your brother
>Relax, chill out, and leave when you grow bored
>Meditate and use <Guidance> to seek out a monster
>>
>>5273003
>Meditate and use <Guidance> to seek out a monster
If that fails, resort to
>a series of stony shelves, which (with a <Jump>) you could reach, leading to a highly-placed hole; it’s small, and you would need to enter alone
>>
>>5273003
>Meditate and use <Guidance> to seek out a monster
>the path of the stream, down which you (and even the Green Dragonborn!) could slide, down into deep places unknown… Though a return trip could prove difficult, depending where it leads
>>
>>5273002
>Meditate and use <Guidance> to seek out a monster
>>
>>5273003
>Meditate and use <Guidance> to seek out a monster
>the path of the stream, down which you (and even the Green Dragonborn!) could slide, down into deep places unknown… Though a return trip could prove difficult, depending where it leads
>>
>>5273003
>Meditate and use <Guidance> to seek out a monster
>the path of the stream, down which you (and even the Green Dragonborn!) could slide, down into deep places unknown… Though a return trip could prove difficult, depending where it leads
>>
>>5273003
>Relax, chill out, and leave when you grow bored
>>
Rolled 17, 10 = 27 (2d20)

>>5273012
>>5273015
>>5273026
>>5273027
>>5273038
>>5273042
Well, you didn’t bring the Great One all this way just to leave him here in this admittedly-enchanting little patch of mossy rocks and mushrooms. Besides, where is the glory in that?? No, you will brave the sliding slop down into the deep darkness below, and bring him with you.

“…Deep,” he rumbles, reticent but not fearful. “Not ee-nuff roo-um to fly.”

You both peer down into the abyss, following the trickle of water until even your Darkvision fails to penetrate the inkiness of the unknown. You begin to wish you’d waited for your armour to be complete. What you’re wearing now—a simple tunic and leggings, with light greaves and chestplate over-op—offer scant protection against an endless tumble.

“It will be fine,” you assure you elder brother, who looks at you with grave uncertainty.

You puff out your chest, steel yourself, and bring in your elbows and knees. You step forward, coiling your tail tight around you for hydrodynamic purposes, and you enter the stream. With surprising force, it sweep your downward, leading the charge. After allowing safe following distance to avoid crushing in the event of a sudden stop—not so unwise after all!—the Green Dragonborn follows you.

As gravity and the current take you down into the earth’s rocky womb, you shut your eyes, draw a deep breath, and seek some <Guidance> on how to proceed…
>>
>>5273162
>17
>Silkworm Physiology
>You see swathes of silken strands, wrapping around and around, binding figures whose features you cannot make out… An adhesive trap, woven by bugs? The outcast elves, maybe?

Your eyes snap open, as the day-old vision recurs with sudden clarity, and a strange… Distortion. This is sooner than you expected. The notion of a trap laid by bugs seemed like a warning about those ‘dark elves’ the Novice spoke of, a distant danger, but now you feel its presence—immediate, emergent, dire.

You roll over and over in the water, holding your breath so as not to breath any in, until you are sitting upright, braced and ready. Knowing what to look for, you see that the glowworm goo above the water is in thicker, goopier strands than the thin bands of slime which trailed in criss-crossing streamers above the little grotto by which you entered. With every few yards the current carries you, they grow thicker still, closer together, more intricate in their patterns, and they hang lower, closer to the water. You duck one, then dodge another, but it becomes more and more difficult. Moreover, the decline into the depths is growing steeper, the passage widening and water-flow accelerating even as it disperses outward, and you somehow KNOW what awaits you at the bottom: a net of this slime-coated silk, like a great sieve, allowing water to asps but captured bodied to be bundled and bound. There, a captured Reptilian would be trapped, doomed to entangle themselves in panicked flailing until they eventually served as a gruesome repast for the worms which have made this bizarre obstacle course.

What do you do?
>Shout a warning to the Great One to stop his own descent; with his size and strength, he can easily wedge himself and climb back up or stay in place
>Grab one of the low-hanging strands overhead and hold on for dear-life, drawing your blade to defend yourself against anything which creeps too close
>Exhale a gout of Firebreath to blast away the sieve, and anyone or anything upon or within it, to clear your path to the chamber below
>Use a <Jump>, coupled with your natural athleticism, to attempt to ump over the chasm and land on the outcroppings on the opposite side; there, you will be in perfect position to take careful aim with your bow
>Write-in
>>
>>5273182
>Shout a warning to the Great One to stop his own descent; with his size and strength, he can easily wedge himself and climb back up or stay in place
>Use a <Jump>, coupled with your natural athleticism, to attempt to ump over the chasm and land on the outcroppings on the opposite side; there, you will be in perfect position to take careful aim with your bow
>>
>>5273182
>Use a <Jump>, coupled with your natural athleticism, to attempt to ump over the chasm and land on the outcroppings on the opposite side; there, you will be in perfect position to take careful aim with your bow
>Shout a warning to the Great One to stop his own descent; with his size and strength, he can easily wedge himself and climb back up or stay in place
>>
>>5273182
>Shout a warning to the Great One to stop his own descent; with his size and strength, he can easily wedge himself and climb back up or stay in place
>Use a <Jump>, coupled with your natural athleticism, to attempt to ump over the chasm and land on the outcroppings on the opposite side; there, you will be in perfect position to take careful aim with your bow
Autistic devotion to wings pays off
>>
>>5273182
>Shout a warning to the Great One to stop his own descent; with his size and strength, he can easily wedge himself and climb back up or stay in place
>Use a <Jump>, coupled with your natural athleticism, to attempt to ump over the chasm and land on the outcroppings on the opposite side; there, you will be in perfect position to take careful aim with your bow
If that fails
>Firebreath
>>
>>5273198
>if that fails
[Gonna' humbly request that people stick to their initial course of action for now.]
>>
>>5273216
I meant if the jumping fails to get us out of the trap. And if you’re still up and willing to update, I think you got a unanimous vote here RQM.
>>
>>5273182
>>Shout a warning to the Great One to stop his own descent; with his size and strength, he can easily wedge himself and climb back up or stay in place
>>
>>5273182
>>5273183 +1
>>
>Exhale a gout of Firebreath to blast away the sieve, and anyone or anything upon or within it, to clear your path to the chamber below.

Firebreath just seems like the simplest way to get rid of webbing. It will also provide us more light to fight in if the webs catch fire.
>>
>>5273182
>Shout a warning to the Great One to stop his own descent; with his size and strength, he can easily wedge himself and climb back up or stay in place
>Exhale a gout of Firebreath to blast away the sieve, and anyone or anything upon or within it, to clear your path to the chamber below
>>
>>5273182
>>Use a <Jump>, coupled with your natural athleticism, to attempt to ump over the chasm and land on the outcroppings on the opposite side; there, you will be in perfect position to take careful aim with your bow
>>
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Rolled 12, 2 = 14 (2d20)

>>5273433
>>5273426
>>5273303
>>5273261
>>5273256
>>5273198
>>5273186
>>5273184
>>5273183
“Brother!” you cry out.

He needs no more words, not with your empathic understanding of one another. He is far enough up the tunnel behind you that, even rotating around and craning your neck, you cannot see him, but you hear the crunch of the Green Dragonborn sinking his talons into the smooth stone, the scrape of scales as he slows his descent behind you, and the questioning rumble he emits as he draws to a halt.

You have no time to respond, though. The stream looked shallow—WAS shallow—up above, but other waters must feed into it—it is no rushing river, but it is deep enough and slick enough to give trouble. Underground slime-cultures make the rocks slick as you grasp and claw at them, unable to gain purchase. The chasm—the great fishing-net which these worms have formed—draws ever nearer.

“Looks like I am going to have to <Jump>…” you mutter to yourself.

You pull your knees up under you, wishing (not for the first or second or even hundredth time) that you had wings. You lean forward, sticking out your proud chin, and wait for just the right moment. When the drop into the great chasm below is finally in view, THAT is when you…
>>
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>>5273605
…Slip.

“No!” you roar, fumbling the execution. Your legs were tensed, full of power natural and magical, but when you went to kick off, it sent you sprawling and tumbling sidelong, at an imperfect angle. You do not sail gloriously, like a soaring dragon of old, to alight upon a high-up ledge; rather, you rock at a diagonal into the centre of the cavern, flailing with outstretched outcropping beyond your reach.

Firebreath. Yes, okay. Firebreath, then. You try to correct your descent, to turn over and ignite the net of enslimed silk-strands below… But it is a surprisingly difficult thing to force yourself to tumble over in mid-air. By the time you think you have the angle right, and a breath drawn into the organ responsible for the concentration and egenration of the mystic heat…

You are already too late.

The worms’ sieve has you now. The entire massive net-complex bounces and flexes with your impact, and for a moment you fear (hope?) it may give way… But it does not. Your <Guidance> and intelligence prevent the automatic and instinctive struggle which would normally result, binding you up like the sorry sods around you, whose well-wrapped corpses speckle the spectacular trap.

“Humiliating,” you grumble. “Emnarassing.”

Potentially deadly. The net is hundreds of feet long, nobody save the other Dragonborn knows exactly what has befallen you, and he is at least a hundred feet up above. You catch a glimpse of his eyes, reflecting the luminescence below, and a hint of his green-scaled bulk.

You look around you, getting your bearings. You are indeed supported upon an interconnected net of the glowworm goo… And there are the glowworms. There are hundreds, maybe as many as a thousand, each individual nor longer than a finger and about twice as thick, with many tiny little spike-legs ferrying their fat little grub-bodies back and forth across this great work of theirs. None presents an immediate threat to you… Though, if you were to die, you suppose that your decaying body would nourish them in time.

“Not a noble death by any means,” you grumble to yourself.

Not immediate, though… But then, why do you still feel the thrill of danger in your mystic senses, rumbling deep within near where you empathic sense lies? Is there something else here?

What do you do?
>Call out for the Great One to go get help; it means swallowing your pride, but you will stay put and await rescue
>Cry out for the Green Dragonborn to use his firebreath to free you; you aren’t wholly fireproof, and it risks injury in the fall, but it is most expedient
>Attempt to pull the strands to haul yourself slowly-but-surely to a cave wall, where hopefully you can find purchase and climb back up
>Draw you blade and attempt to cut yourself free, clinging to the strand as if a rope to lower yourself down to solid ground
>Investigate the silk-wrapped corpses around you
>Write-in
>>
>>5273617
>Investigate the silk-wrapped corpses around you
>Attempt to pull the strands to haul yourself slowly-but-surely to a cave wall, where hopefully you can find purchase and climb back up
>>
>>5273617
>Investigate the silk-wrapped corpses around you
>>
>>5273617
>Investigate the silk-wrapped corpses around you
>Attempt to pull the strands to haul yourself slowly-but-surely to a cave wall, where hopefully you can find purchase and climb back up
>>
>>5273617
>>Investigate the silk-wrapped corpses around you
>Attempt to pull the strands to haul yourself slowly-but-surely to a cave wall, where hopefully you can find purchase and climb back up
>>
>>5273617
How well are the sword and bow secured to our body?
>>
>>5273650
[Well enough for now but, once drawn, a critical fumble could easily drop them.]
>>
>>5273617
>Investigate the silk-wrapped corpses around you
>Attempt to pull the strands to haul yourself slowly-but-surely to a cave wall, where hopefully you can find purchase and climb back up
>>
>>5273617
>Draw you blade and attempt to cut yourself free, clinging to the strand as if a rope to lower yourself down to solid ground
>>
>>5273617
>Draw you blade and attempt to cut yourself free, clinging to the strand as if a rope to lower yourself down to solid ground
But also spew firebreath on the blade to make it hot and lower the chance of it getting stuck.
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>5274025
>>5273826
>>5273765
>>5273630
>>5273626
>>5273622
>>5273620
You begin to slowly, methodically haul yourself towards the wall, grabbing and pulling the strands towards you and thus yourself towards the wall. Your hands get stuck repeatedly and, despite your best efforts, you find yourself partly entangling in this web. Worse, there are glowworms crawling all over you now, wriggling excitedly at the jostling of their home. Luckily, their tiny mouthparts prove insufficient to penetrate your rudimentary training armour, or even your tough scales.

You are nearly at the wall when curiosity (or greed) strikes. You eye one of the cocooned corpses, and begin adjusting your course so as to intersect with it. When you are close enough, you struggle against the gunk coating your abdomen to rip your sword from its leafweave scabbard. Using the blade, you saw at the cocoon, periodically cleaning it of the build-up with a puff of your fiery breath so that it does not get stuck.

Inside the faintly-glowing cocoon, you find… Well, very much what one might expect: a partially rotten and mostly worm-eaten Reptilian corpse of uncertain age and origin. It is one of perhaps a half-dozen here. Given the Master Race’s slow population growth, even a lowly-born members would surely have been missed and recorded, leading you to believe that these bodies must be the accumulation of years, if not decades; the cocooning process, then, must slow decay. You inspect the body more closely, and find…
>>
>>5274248
…A bottled potion of some sort. You suspect it magic, for when you narrow your eyes and shield it against the glow surrounding you, it still has a faint luminescence. You have no idea what it does, but by the way the corpse of its former owner was contorting, the male Steeltalon had hoped to reach for it. The poor unfortunate instead merely tangled himself into immobility and doom.

You take the potion, for now simply squishing it into the bundle of adhesive impediment attached you’re your chest; placing the small vial in pack or pocket would require too much imprudent movement, and risk entangling you as utterly as it did this dead Reptilian.

You continue along your course, now close enough to the wall to touch it. You grasp at the stone, pulling yourself along towards a ledge where you can take stable footing and clean yourself, but as you draw near to this spot of salvation, two things catch your attention at once:

First, to your great surprise, one of the closest cocoons is moving—wiggling and bobbing, as if in response to your nearness. At first you think it a trick of the mind, brought about by your own vibrations of the silken web… But then, straining your ears, you make out muffled cries. One of the other victims of this place is a recent capture, and also yet lives!

The second thing which captures your attention is as likely as you are to be the reason for the other captive’s renewed struggling, and a source of more immediate concern.

“Ah,” you whisper to yourself, “so that’s why I still sensed danger.”

Approaching you with a rolling, rippling gait is a glowworm of considerable size. Well, that might be an understatement—whereas those clinging to your person and the surrounding webbing are inches, these behemoth’s width can be measured more easily in feet, and its length in yards.

You freeze, not in fear but in deliberate stillness. The great-worm slows, lifting its eye-spotted head and spreading its mouth-parts as if tasting the air. It plucks at the silk beneath it with two dozen limbs like jutting spikes, and emits a quiet rasping sound… And then, for lack of your movement, begins to crawl towards the other survivor, struggling in their coffin of glowworm goo.

What do you do?
>Use the poor sod as a distraction—leave them to their death, and let the worm’s feast distract it while you flee this place with your prize
>Hurry to the ledge and draw your bow; you will shoot this beast down with your arrows, hopefully before it consumes the other survivor
>Exhale a gout of flame, igniting great-worm and survivor alike—it will surely kill them both!
>Begin shouting and flailing, to draw the great-worm away from the helpless would-be meal and to you and your ready blade
>Write-in
>>
>>5274281
>Begin shouting and flailing, to draw the great-worm away from the helpless would-be meal and to you and your ready blade

We can afford to take risks since worst comes to worst we still have our fire breath.
>>
>>5274281
>Begin shouting and flailing, to draw the great-worm away from the helpless would-be meal and to you and your ready blade
BIG BOI
>>
>>5274281
>Hurry to the ledge and draw your bow; you will shoot this beast down with your arrows, hopefully before it consumes the other survivor
worms don't eat fast
but if we get tangled up big green is gonna have to roast us both
>>
>>5274281
>Hurry to the ledge and draw your bow; you will shoot this beast down with your arrows, hopefully before it consumes the other survivor

Actually the bow is probably the better idea. We don't need to risk our ass for a random person.
>>
>>5274281
I would prefer the sword, but since that would tie this up with the bow I’ll step aside for expediency’s sake.
>>
>>5274393
[We have three votes, four counting yours for sword, and I don't plan to post until we have at least 7, a clear majority of 5 or 6 votes for one option, or it is morning, considering our usual vote tally.]
>>
>>5274402
I can switch to bow. Doesn’t matter much to me options are almost same level of good.
>Hurry to the ledge and draw your bow; you will shoot this beast down with your arrows, hopefully before it consumes the other survivor
>>
>>5274281
>Hurry to the ledge and draw your bow; you will shoot this beast down with your arrows, hopefully before it consumes the other survivor
>>
>>5274402
You can consider me apart of the majority of it expedites things.
>>
Rolled 10, 5, 3 = 18 (3d20)

>>5274406
>>5274407
>>5274414
>>5274317
>>5274315

[Well, alright, if you insist! Rolling 2d20 for athleticism, 1d20 for ranged combat (remember, you have no ranks in it)]
>>
>>5274427
Well that guy is dead.
>>
>>5274429
And so are we.
>>
>>5274427
>>5274429
>>5274434
A sword-kill would be more glorious, and better protect the bound captive of this creature… But then, what sort of Reptilian risks himself unnecessarily for a stranger, even a fellow member of the Master Race? No, you will do what you can to protect and rescue this unfortunate soul, but not at the expense of your own safety—not even in the pursuit of glory. You continue to pull yourself along through the morass, not hurrying at all. After all, how swiftly can a worm eat?

Well, not swiftly, as it turns out, but by the way the cocooned figure’s thrashing and crying-out slows and stops as the great-worm reaches out and sinks its mouthparts in, you would wager that paralytic venom of some sort is within its retinue. Maybe even preservative? Is that what slows the decay of the other victims of this terrible place?

>10

If you’d been a bit faster, perhaps the captive Reptilian would have avoided this terrible fate, but their sacrifice (unwilling though it was) buys you vital time to reach the safety of the ledge, and to fumble your bow free of its straps on your back and the hardening sludge which encases it. While the creature sets about beginning to feed, you draw back the bowstring and launch an arrow. Perhaps, you reckon, you can skewer the damned depth-crawler and end its meal before too much damage is done… Or, at least, before it notices you.

>3

…Or, perhaps, you have never actually practiced with a bow before, and these are less-than-ideal conditions under which to begin. Luckily, though, your shot was so shamefully far-from-the-mark that the great-worm hasn’t even noticed the attempt on its life… Even as it definitely, for SURE ends the life of the luckless Reptilian you left to die.

Well, altruism is for the weak and foolish. VICTORY, though, is for the glorious…

(And life, you consider, is for the wise and pragmatic)

What do you do?
>Draw back the bow again, take careful aim, and fire one more shot with <Guidance> [3d20, but a failure will expend the last of your mana]
>Fuck it—you have a treasure, you are too late to save the wretch in the goo-net, and you are running low on mana, so you might as well burn this place out with cleansing dragonfire
>Ranged combat was never your forte, but between your blade and your MIGHTY FISTS, you stand a chance; draw its attention and ready for BATTLE
>Is butchering or burning a big caterpillar even GLORIOUS to begin with? Use the last of your mana to <jump> to safety, and get out of here while the getting is good
>Brave the trap-web once more, to loot another body or two while the big bug is busy
>Write-in

I will try to post tomorrow morning, but I have company this weekend, so expect one or MAYBE two posts a day tops for the next few days
>>
>>5274442
>>Fuck it—you have a treasure, you are too late to save the wretch in the goo-net, and you are running low on mana, so you might as well burn this place out with cleansing dragonfire
Nothing to lose anymore.
>>
>>5274442
>Draw back the bow again, take careful aim, and fire one more shot with <Guidance> [3d20, but a failure will expend the last of your mana]
>>
>>5274442
fucc dat worm
>Draw back the bow again, take careful aim, and fire one more shot with <Guidance> [3d20, but a failure will expend the last of your mana]
>>
>>5274442
>Draw back the bow again, take careful aim, and fire one more shot with <Guidance> [3d20, but a failure will expend the last of your mana]
>>
>>5274442
>Brave the trap-web once more, to loot another body or two while the big bug is busy
If we can’t save the captive, we might as well take the opportunity to loot. Still, what a shame. This was why I wanted to use the sword btw.
>>
>>5274442
>Draw back the bow again, take careful aim, and fire one more shot with <Guidance> [3d20, but a failure will expend the last of your mana]
>>
>>5274442
>Draw back the bow again, take careful aim, and fire one more shot with <Guidance> [3d20, but a failure will expend the last of your mana]
>>
>>5274442
>Brave the trap-web once more, to loot another body or two while the big bug is busy
>Fuck it—you have a treasure, you are too late to save the wretch in the goo-net, and you are running low on mana, so you might as well burn this place out with cleansing dragonfire
Anons want to waste the last of our mana trying to slay a shitty grub while we have bigger monsters to deal with? This is almost Shakespeare levels of retardation, I hope the QM pulls a MacBeth to punish us for fucking around so hard.
>>
>>5274442
>Draw back the bow again, take careful aim, and fire one more shot with <Guidance> [3d20, but a failure will expend the last of your mana]
We NEED the experience before we set off on our mission.
>>
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>>5274443
>>5274444
>>5274447
>>5274452
>>5274469
>>5274501
>>5274509
>>5274536
>>5274580
You take a deep breath, and force it not to surge forth as fire. While dragonfire is inherent to you in a way your other is not, in such a way that it does not even deplete your body’s reserves of mystical energy, it would still scorch the entire mesh of silk and worm-spit… And all the treasure-bearing bodies therein.

Instead, you steady yourself, quiet your heart, and open your mind. You draw back to bowstring, and close your nictitating membranes; you aim not with your two physical eyes, but your mystic third—the even by which you divined your future, and saw this very moment. The glow of the great-worm is different here, in this realm of understanding. You reach out with your mana and tether yourself to its possibilities—where it is, where it may be, how the wind currents move around it and affect the hypothetical course of incoming projectiles. In this form of vision, this state of might, the glow of your objective is even brighter, more intense and distinct from that of its nest and smaller compatriots.

You release your breath, and let the arrow fly.
>>
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Rolled 8, 17, 16 = 41 (3d20)

>>5274812
>>
Rolled 22, 2, 70, 13, 29 = 136 (5d100)

>>5274814
>16
Your shot strikes true, eliciting another soft hiss and a violent contraction of the big bug’s muscles where your ironwood arrow impacts… In the creature’s side. The tremendous arthropod rears up its front half, resembling a centaur of some despicable mutant breed for a moment in its proportions. Its abominable visage turns to face you, feet tapping and strumming at the string below as it uses vibrations to ping your location. Then, with a terrible resolve and a shocking speed, it rolls towards you, hundreds of pounds of squishy carapace and toxic flesh tumbling and rolling at you like a living rockslide come down upon your stone shelf.

“Just as I foresaw,” you say, a titch smug.

You leap back as the great-worm crashes down upon the rock shelf, shaking it. The impact makes you briefly fearful that the entire ledge with break away and tumble down into the drink—and onto whatever hard stone lies beneath it… But it holds, even as the weight of your adversary and the force of its landing catapults you up a few feet into the air. There, you take aim again as you rise…

>17

…And let the next arrow loose at the crest of your arc. This one pierces the bug’s brain, such as it is. It thrashes violently, without coordination. You land, narrowly dodging one roll of its massive girth, and swing of its spike-studded torso. With a triumphant roar, you charge forward to shoulder-check it, adding just enough weight and force to its own flailing to send it tumbling off the ledge.

The great-worm lands upon its own great work—its net-trap—and for a moment it seems to have been saved… But then, still unable to stop its horrid wriggling, it thrashes a portion of the sieve apart and is send spiraling down into the deep darkness. You do not hear a splash—just a thump. It is quiet, distant. You are glad you did not brave that drop, let alone without magic.

>+1 Range Combat

You stand victorious… if, admittedly, a little depleted of your energy arcane. You have slain a threat you your people—one which has claimed the lives of (by your counts) at least 5 other Reptilians. You’ve even acquired a magical item! And, speaking of those unlucky fellow-travelers, it is now time to claim the rest of your prize.
>>
Seems we have obtained a Flask of Dopamine.
>>
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>>5274851
>>5274826
You haul in the worm-silk, crush and flicking away any of the great-worm’s lesser ilk as you do so. It takes time and a great deal of exertion, but you are able to haul in four of the five bodies, losing only one to the chasm in the process. Once they are on the ledge with you, you take out your sword and slice open the cocoons, revealing…
>13: A Steeltalon enforcer, likely sent to investigate a disappearance in the area if you were to guess… Maybe even one of the other bodies. His badge and blade are mundane, but their return will fetch some repute for having bested the beast that slew him
>22: A clan officiant – Dragonblooded, but the colour of his blotched and rotting skin – tangled up in his ceremonial robes, and carrying a ritual symbol and still clutching his staff of office; both are tarnished with age, and you get the feeling that he has been here for some time
>29: A Silkscale male, the one whom you failed to save, wearing leather armour and a thick hooded cloak, and carrying a pouch of coin and several trade-goods, as well as a dagger. Merchant, or thief? You will never know, now.
>70: A… Serpent Priestess?? What was one of these Holy Ones doing, traveling alone? By the robes and the ritual icon she carries (that of a Dark Goddess of home defence and hatchling-rearing), you take her to be a mid-ranked member of a lesser cult, but still one with existing members who will praise you for returning her holy symbols… And likely the scroll-cqse on her hip, still unopened.

You look up, and where your elder brother awaits, and down into the chasm below. You have had some success, even fulfilled some small prophecy but the depeer you delve, the greater the risk that you will be missed before you return.

What will do you?
>Dedicate your victory to the Dark Gods, and beseech their aid – surely you have earned their favour now?
>Strip the corpses of valuables and climb up from whence you came, to return to the forward base before the Novice’s cover stories fail you
>Press on, summoning the Great One to join you in exploring the true depths of this great pit – maybe you will find even more treasure, and an even greater and more glorious quarry!
>Rest here—climbing is a precarious endevaour, but given some time to recoup, you can just <Jump> out
>Write-in

Next update will likely be tomorrow or the next day. Enjoy this commissioned art of the MC in the meantime!
>>
>>5274857
>Rest here—climbing is a precarious endeavor, but given some time to recoup, you can just <Jump> out

>If the scroll case is unsealed and just pops open and close, open it and investigate. If it has a wax seal or similar, leave it for now.
>>
>>5274857
>>Strip the corpses of valuables
>>Rest here—climbing is a precarious endevaour, but given some time to recoup, you can just <Jump> out
We expanded almost every resources we have. Time to get out, while still training <Jump> to hopefully evolve it into <Wings>
>>
>>5274857
>Press on, summoning the Great One to join you in exploring the true depths of this great pit – maybe you will find even more treasure, and an even greater and more glorious quarry!

Greedy for more EXP
>>
>>5274857
>Press on, summoning the Great One to join you in exploring the true depths of this great pit – maybe you will find even more treasure, and an even greater and more glorious quarry!

All we lost from this fight was some of our mana, we didn't even get hurt from anything. I really want the Great One to get into some kind of fight or adventure, here. It'll be good for his development, and I also would like to level some more of our combat stats before the expedition.
>>
>>5274857
>Strip the corpses of valuables and climb up from whence you came, to return to the forward base before the Novice’s cover stories fail you
>>
>>5274857
>Press on, summoning the Great One to join you in exploring the true depths of this great pit – maybe you will find even more treasure, and an even greater and more glorious quarry!

I feel bad that so far he's just hung to a wall
>>
>>5274857
>Dedicate your victory to the Dark Gods, and beseech their aid – surely you have earned their favour now?
>>
>>5274857
>Dedicate your victory to the Dark Gods, strip the corpses of valuables
Frankly I think continuing on into this dark pit will delay us enough to cause us trouble, but if anons can devise a way that won’t fuck us over just before we leave, I’d be up for it.
>>
>>5274857
>>5275165
If you’re here RQM, you can ignore my hesitations for continuing one. I just wanted to make sure that dedicated this victory to the Dark Gods and that we took the loot before we moved on. I don’t want to hold up the quest if that’s the issue.
>>
>>5275556
[As mentioned, I have company this weekend and, being drunk and enjoying arthouse films and slasher flicks, do not plan to post until tomorrow or the next day. We'll begin again then!]
>>
>>5275569
Completely forgot, my mistake. Hope you enjoy your night out though mate!
>>
Test
>>
>>5272676
>>5275654
This is me.
>>
>>5274857
>Press on, summoning the Great One to join you in exploring the true depths of this great pit – maybe you will find even more treasure, and an even greater and more glorious quarry!
>>
>>5272676
>>5275654
>>5275655
All me, btw.
>>
>>5275908
Why are you doing this?
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>>5274859
>>5274862
>>5274957
>>5274973
>>5275024
>>5275780
>>5275165
>>5275154
>>5274978
To rest here long enough to recoup your mana would take time… And, if you are spending time down here anyway, risking discovery of your little jaunt down into the deeper underground, you might as well get the most out of it.

‘Besides,’ you think, glancing upwards at the peer eyes of the Green Dragonborn, ‘it would be a shame for the Great One to not see any adventure, aside from wedging himself in a corridor while I shot arrows into a bug.’

You loot the corpses here of anything valuable, shuck yourself of the glow-worm gunk as best you can, and then summon your elder brother. He allows himself to drop, sliding free from the passage and spreading his magnificent wings to slow and control his descent. His impact still shakes your stone shelf once more, and you think you hear it crack a little under the weight of the two of you and the bodies.

“Quickly,” you say, “let us descend.”

He chuckles happily at the decision, seemingly relieved to not be turning back yet. You clamber aboard his back—to the MOST dignified situation, but faster than climbing down, and without the ability to <Jump> just yet, this is your only other safe alternative.

Your natural affinity for such lightless conditions parts the veil of the unknown to reveal the contents of that deeper darkness: a wide basin pockmarked by eroded pits and mineral-rich stalagmites which jut up like punji sticks; one such deadly stone spike impales the great-worm which you earlier slew, while its guts and insectoid fluids pour forth and puddle beneath it. The Great One carefully avoids a similar fate, and you hop down from his back to collect your arrows from your deceased adversary.

Casting your eyes about, you see a few more cocoons scattered about. Your hoarding-instinct summon you to each of them, but their contents have been dashed upon the rocks and scattered, and any valuables are broken or washed away by the slow-moving water.

Two passages lead from this place which are large enough to accommodate you—well, three, but only two large enough to accommodate your big brother, also. The first is a passage with a slight upward incline, which seems surprisingly well-worn; a closer inspect reveals evidence of hit having been carved, intelligently and with stonecunning, but Reptilians (or some other race, but who else would dwell down here in the depth, and so close to your own settlements?). The second is level, but wreathed in the faint and eerie glow of more glowworm goo—implying more beastly bug-beings like that which inhabited the realm above your head and feasted on your fellows.

Which passage do you take?
>The carved path, upward
>The level path, aglow and infested
>The small path, your brother and you need not adventure TOGETHER
>The path from whence you came; you changed your mind about progressing further
>>
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>>5275918
>>5275655
>>5275654
[Please do not clog up the thread with mysterious tests. People will become nervous you are cheating the vote. If my own suspicions are roused, I'll start locking votes to established IDs.]
>>
>>5276078
>>5276084
>The level path, aglow and infested
Let's clean it up a bit
Hey QM i'm IP-hopping and sometime phoneposting, wants me to start namefaggiing?
>>
>>5276078
>The carved path, upward
Fuck the giant insects, let's just hunt elves.
>>5276102
>wants to namefag instead of backlinking/tripcode
>>
>>5276110
Never understood this board's fear of namefagging contained in a thread for coherence and player's debate
>>
>>5276078
>The carved path, upward
>>
>>5276078
>The carved path, upward
>>
>>5276115
Using a name among anonymous users makes you stand out in the thread and can look like you're seeking validation/recognition. If you have multiple namefags occupying a quest, it just starts to look like a circlejerk and might discourage new anons from voting.
So yeah, I'm against it while there are other means to prevent samefagging.
>>
>>5276084
My apologies, I have recently had some problems with my isp.
>>
>>5276078
>The carved path, upward
Please no namefaggotry.
>>
>>5276078
>The small path, your brother and you need not adventure TOGETHER
>>
>>5276078
>The carved path, upward
>>
>>5276078
>The carved path, upward
>>
>>5265023
>500 posts in 9 days
Fantastic start, ReptiloidQM!
>>
>>5276671
he's based like that
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>>5276078
>The level path, aglow and infested
The bugs have proven themselves capable of killing Reptilians, and the Reptilian agents assigned to investigate the initial deaths. They're worthy.
>>
>>5276078
>The level path, aglow and infested
Bug murder with the bro
>>
>The carved path, upward.

How much renown could we possibly gain by killing insect's?
>>
>>5277283
>>5277134
>>5276835
>>5276652
>>5276647
>>5276501
>>5276490
>>5276164
>>5276128
>>5276110
>>5276102

There is something inherently ignoble about squashing bugs, even the tremendous examples of such. While there is a case to be made for destroying the infestation… Well, how dangerous is even the great-worm, which can slay only a handful of Reptilians over decades or centuries, and even then seemingly indirectly, by their literally falling into its clutches? No, if more squirming menaces exist, someone else can clear them out. Your interests lie with higher matters—literally, in this case.

You follow the carved passage instead, counting on its upward trajectory to bring you closer to your home while also hopefully revealing more hidden treasures of this neglected Reptilian habitation. You beckon the Green Dragonborn, and he follows behind you, though he must sometimes hunch and occasionally drop to all fours to do so. The floor’s divots hind at time-eroded steps; the walls are carved with strangely-misshapen reliefs, their faces and fine details eaten away by aeons. More of the familiar faded glory which has characterized your experiences since hatching…

Eventually , you reach a rather peculiar series of chambers. They most resemble a monastic complex, like the series of studies, personal quarters, and library and archival spaces which characterize the area of the forward base where the Novice and her fellow Priestly Ones dwell. The books, scrolls, and other writings are long since rotted away, and whoever lived here left this place many lifetimes ago.

The Great One groans, disappointed at the lack of opportunities for combat an destruction. You reassure him, even as you own curiosity drives you forward. Eventually, you are rewarded: in a personal quarter, its entrance too small for your elder brother to enter, you find a robed skeleton, a dagger seemingly plunged between its ribs by the dead Reptilian’s own hands. On the stone work bench before it are carved cryptic words:

“First, but not only.”

The figure wears the same robes and holy symbols as the Serpent Priestess whose body you recovered. What was their order doing here? What do the words carved into the bench MEAN? Why did you scrawl them, with great effort, as she contemplated and perpetrated her suicide?

What do you do?

>Pray to the Master of the Insightful Eye for understanding
>Beseech the Keeper of Clutches, goddess of home defense and of children, to explain what happened here
>Offer up the life of the great-worm and the bones of the long-dead and call upon Death's recollection of these long-lost lives
>Forget it—this is scholarly shit, and you are here to find battle and glory! Searcg for foes to fight.
>Scour these rooms for further clues as to what was done here and why... And maybe treasure
>Carry on upwards, to your home—you have tarried long enough
>Write-in
>>
>>5276352
>>5276102
[No need for names and/or trips yet. I just want to jead off the imevitable arguments and suspicions at the pass.]

>>5276671
>>5276716
[Thanks for the kind words! Sorry if this above post isn't my usual quality -- passing out about now, but I didn't want to leave you folks hanging. Tomorrow and the enzt day should see a return to form and my more routine posting schedule.]
>>
>>5277404
>Use divination to find the meaning.

The Dark Gods are fickle. To call upon them is a risk, one I loathe to take for this small matter. I’m totally not voting to use divination to get that sweet sweet XP
>>
>>5277410
[You lack the mana to cast Guidance at this time.]
>>
>>5277404
>Offer up the life of the great-worm and the bones of the long-dead and call upon Death's recollection of these long-lost lives

Ok I choose death then.
>>
>>5277404
>Offer up the life of the great-worm and the bones of the long-dead and call upon Death's recollection of these long-lost lives
>Let Great One explore on own nearby
Big Brother can give us a roar if we’re needed.
>>
>>5277404
>Offer up the life of the great-worm and the bones of the long-dead and call upon Death's recollection of these long-lost lives
Between the Eye and Death, but Death is my favorite Dark God so far.

>>5277408
Ok, I'll admit the joker shit was just me shitposting at another phoneposter, had nothing to do with samefagging. Won't happen again.
>>
>>5277404
>Pray to the Master of the Insightful Eye for understanding
Not up to date with Infiltrator Quest (discovered this with this thread; currently at Vol 6) so I don't know much about dark gods, but I want to go with the Math Autism Dragonborn.
>>
>>5277452
Dark Gods explanation/spoilers(?): They are ancient, bullshit-powerful entities that look after Reptilians (and possibly other "bad" races) and claim to be the only real Gods (which isn't true). IIrc, at least some of their power comes from active followers' belief, similarly to greater demons. Death used to be a Dark God like an eternity ago, but dropped out of politics and just supervises hell now, not even zoomer Light Gods bother it.

Ismena talked to Death directly in here, if anyone's interested: https://archived.moe/qst/thread/5125865#5159293
>>
>>5277404
>Pray to the Master of the Insightful Eye for understanding
>Scour these rooms for further clues as to what was done here and why... And maybe treasure
>>
>>5277404
>Offer up the life of the great-worm and the bones of the long-dead and call upon Death's recollection of these long-lost lives
>>
>>5277404
>Pray to the Master of the Insightful Eye for understanding
>>
>>5277894
>>5277531
>>5277452
>>5277419
>>5277423
>>5277425
>>5277563
You scan the rooms once more, looking for further clues as to the nature of the work done here (or wealth to seize for yourself) but find little but arcane alchemical implements well past their useful lifespan. Your bored elder brother leaves for the more spacious room outside while you do so, amusing himself by frying and squashing the remaining glowworms and their sticky silken enterprise.

Eventually, you relent. There is naught here but ash, dust, and mystery… And among the former two categories, you can find no answer to the third. Maybe, had you brought the Novice or one of her ilk, it would be different; likewise, if you could cast a spell of Guidance once again, and if you could this time find a way to interpret the messages encoded in the onslaught of imagery…

But, then, perhaps there is another answer in the last such vision?

You kneel before the skeleton of the suicidal Serpent Priestess, and speak haltingly dark rites which you have heard only once before, but never forgotten; where memory fails, you improvise.

“Oh Lord of Endings, of doorways and crossroads, Dark God of Sleep Eternal… Who witnesses our deaths and ferries our souls… Please accept my deadly works and mortal deeds in honour of your role I all things, and my acceptance of my own inevitable embrace by your unfailing hands. Please, Death, Lord of All, hear me and answer me.”

You closed your eyes as you spoke, but when you open them… You still see nothing. No room, no desk, no scrawled words, no skeleton. You force yourself not to panic, instead taking a deep breath, and in time the blackness parts like curtains—like robes of ink or smoke—and reveals…

“Death.”

You recognize the Dark God immediately, for how could you not? He walks not in a form you have ever heard of, and yet in a form somehow intimately familiar: a dragons’ skeleton, towering over you and filling all space, with great claws and massive body wing-struts… And with a human skull, albeit proportional to his great size, like that of some giant great ape.

“You slay a worm,” he says, dryly and without obvious intonation, “and think to summon a god in exchange? Such arrogance…”

You bow your head low, whispering an apology. And yet…

“And yet, you came, My Lord?” you ask.

Oh Gods, is he here to claim your own soul for your impudence? Perhaps this was an unwise decision. The Dark Gods are not known for charity or mercy…

“I did,” Death acknowledges. “You are entitled some special consideration. The Feathered One, Serpent Ascendant, granted your mother a <Favour>… And despite ample reason to do so, she never used it, save to bequeath upon your brow a crown of consideration.”
>>
>>5278081
You struggle to understand the meaning, but you infer the practical application just now: it is your mother’s so-called ‘Divine Favour’ for which Death deigned to appear before you, and it is for that reason that you still draw breath.

“You have your audience,” Death declares, a voiceless rasp in the back of your own mind that brings to imagination a stone sarcophagus lid being opened to reveal fearful possibility. “Make your requests and inquiries… But remember your lessons well, young one. Every word or action which a god provides comes with expectations of repayment, and the cost of impudence or imprudence is your very soul.”

In other words… Every question Death answers will result in a divine mandate or command in turn. And actions—you can request the Dark God to perform ACTIONS? Perhaps a boon… The destruction of an enemy?

“Do not,” Death says, as if hearing your racing thoughts, “grow greedy, though I know hat it is the nature of your kind, dragonling.”

What do you ask?
>What the scrawling on the desk means
>Why the Serpent Priestess here killed herself
>Why your mother did not use the favour, and what you may use it for
>Request power
>Request honour
>Request wealth
>Request a chance to serve Death, and to have Him as your patron
>Write-in
[Choose no more than 3 options, or be smote for impudence.]
>>
>>5278082
>Why the Serpent Priestess here killed herself
>Request a chance to serve Death, and to have Him as your patron
>Request him to be your brother’s patron

Great One needs a divine sponsor he is a glorified lab rat on his own.
>>
>>5278082
>Request wealth
>>
>>5278082
>Why the Serpent Priestess here killed herself\
>Request a chance to serve Death, and to have Him as your patron

think we know this one already
>Why your mother did not use the favour
OOC
>>
>>5278082
>Request a chance to serve Death, and to have Him as your patron
>Request him to be your brother’s patron
>Request intelligence for brother

If we go twin servants of death we go all in
>>
>>5278111
>>5278103
>>5278087
>>5278091
“My brother… the Great Green Dragonborn… He is not, uh, entirely ‘complete’.”

Death waits patiently, for you to say your piece.

“Hypothetically, if I were to become your servant and you my patron, could you do likewise for him? Could he be… Made whole?”

Death opens his skeletal maw, exhaling a long, breathless sigh.

“There are no hypotheticals,” the Lord of Ash and Dust answers. “Each answer comes with a price… But I do not wish to waste either of our time. No, I cannot grant the other mortal a mind, beyond that which he already has and that which he cultivates in the future. That is a purview for my sibling.”

“The Master of the Insightful Eye,” you guess.

Death ignores this, neither confirming nor denying the supposition. Instead, he continues thusly:

“I will accept you as a divine vassal—a ‘Paladin’, of sorts, as you might conceptualize it. However, you can be full champion to only one Patron. I am not bothered if it is myself, or one of my siblings, or even a God of Light. I am neutral, in all things, and passion is for the living and THEIR patrons. But if you seek wealth, or power, or knowledge, and if you proffer service…”

Death settles into a relaxed stance, half-crouched and with tail lowers and wing-bones folded into a complex interlocking posture.

“…I have tasks, which you might perform, yes." Death concludes.

[Not a full post or a vote-lock, but rather a clarification of a few points and a chance to modify your votes. I fear I may have been unclear on what was on offer, and what the cost and limitations might be.]
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>>5278166
>Why the Serpent Priestess here killed herself
>Request a chance to serve Death, and to have Him as your patron
I’ll change getting our brother help is a side quest for later with the other god
>>
>>5278166
>Why the Serpent Priestess here killed herself
>Request a chance to serve Death, and to have Him as your patron
>Request freedom for Great One
>>
>>5278082
>Why the Serpent Priestess here killed herself
>Request a chance to serve Death, and to have Him as your patron
I hope we get to actually keep our Divine Favor here. I'd rather not waste it so cheaply
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>>5278198
I actually feel bad for his circumstances and he’s going to be all by himself after leave. I’ll support. Hope it’s not a divine favor.
>Support
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>>5278184
+1
>>
>>5278217
>>5278211
>>5278205
>>5278198
>>5278184
>>5278091
>>5278103
You start with the most obvious question, the reason the you called upon The Lord of Endings to begin with: to inquire after the ending of the female at the desk.

>Why the Serpent Priestess here killed herself?
“Because her task for her mistress was done,” Death answers. “She was no longer needed… Never would be again. Her task here was one she could not live with having completed, and so she chose not to do so.”

“I do not understand,” you admit. “Does it have to do with the scrawling on the desk?”

“Yes,” Death answers. “But careful now, dragonling. You are asking more questions than you intend. Remember the price. There are only so many favours you can even do for me, to earn the answers. Death wants for little.”

You nod slowly. It is frustrating… But the opportunity you are being given is a rare one. Most mortals never get a chance to meet their gods in life, not even among the Master Race—not even among the Serpent Priesthood! You must make the most of it.

>Request freedom for Great One

Death stares at you, into you.

“Is it your humanity which drives your bloodline to this uncharacteristic altruism?” the Harvester of Life asks. “Your mother was motivated by legacy and loyalty… But what motivates you, to give of yourself to free another, to whom you have no relation?”

“He will be alone,” you say quietly. “It is thanks to him that I never felt that loneliness… But now, what will he have without me? How can I leave him without a kindred spirit?”

“Easily, and without a second thought,” Death says, “if you were more like your father.”

You say nothing. The implication stings, though the Dark God seems more curious than condemning in his assessment.

Eventually, Death speaks again.

“You do not think through what you ask,” he says. “Or perhaps, who you ask it of. What sort of freedom, do you suppose, can Death bring, but the freedom of the grave?”

Your heart skips a beat. No! You didn’t mean—!

“Calm yourself,” Death says. “I am no lesser darkness, no demon or djinn. Your ‘brother’ will live… And, I suppose, it could even be arranged for him to leave the confines of the caves, but that ‘imprisonment’ is also comfort and safety. The surface world is not all sunshine and plunder, little dragon. Death dwells in light as in darkness, and where life if replete… So too am I well-fed by the constancy of its antithesis.”

In other words: if you use Death’s divine authority to force the issue with the Chaplain, the Dragonborn will be at risk of death at the hands of surface threats.
>>
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>>5278277
>Request a chance to serve Death, and to have Him as your patron

“Then let me serve you, My Lord Death,” you say boldly, without further hesitation. “Let me wear your glory and do as you will me to do!”

“You do not think your… Excitability and youth would better lend themselves to my siblings?” the skull-faced Dark God asks. “You seem to be enjoying your gift of prophecy, of knowledge. You would not prefer the Watchful One with his Insightful Eye as a patron?”

You hesitate, then shake your head.

“Nothing,” you say, “is mightier than Death.”

And no living being, you imagine, will be mightier than you as Death’s champion.

“Very well,” Death acknowledges your ambition. “As payment for answering your summons and responding to your questions, I will accept your soul into my service. However, this comes with a few caveats—a Paladin’s Code.”

You nod slowly.

<DEATH KNIGHT’S CODE>
>1. You must not show mercy—when an enemy is of no further use, they must perish
>2. You must not permit an undead to persist, nor a mortal to achieve immortality
>3. You must not keep souls from Death’s embrace by entrapping, absorbing, or waylaying them
>4. You must not sire offspring, and must destroy any offspring which you do sire
>5. You must never interfere to save the life of a stranger or unfamiliar beast, nor prolong their lives through magic
>6. You may not slay a god, of Dark or of Light
>7. You must do as Death dictates, forevermore, until you die

“Do you accept the terms?” Death asks. “Do so, and I will mark you with my authority, and as you perform my labours, you will grow into a true <Death Knight>--immune to physical ailment, to age, to many forms of my art… And capable of inflicting it with a touch, with a breath.You will be able to reach into the spaces where restless spirits dwell, and to sense disturbances in the flow of life.”

“I… Have a choice?” you ask, a little overwhelmed and surprised as you take it all in.

“Yes,” Death says simply. “You always have a choice, until that final moment when all choice is gone and there is only me… And what lies beyond.”

“What happens if I refuse?” you ask nervously.

“I will not be upset,” Death replies coolly, “but there will be consequences. There are ALWAYS consequences, and this is always true, though I am never upset.”

Do you…
>Accept Death’s offer, and begin down the path of a Death Knight
>Refuse the offer, and accept unknown consequences
>Refuse the offer, and propose a penance [write-in, no guarantee Death will accept it]
>Ask Death something else [any answer may incur additional obligations]
>Use the <Divine Favour> to get out of any obligations and commitments [single use]
>Write-in
>>
Guys I don't think I wanna be Death's knight here. Those rules 4 and 5 are big dealbreakers. What sort of penance should we do for him?
>>
>>5278293
Agreed... I think he's actually right, the knowledge guy might be a better fit for us. Is there a necromancer somewhere we can put down?
>>
>>5278284
RQM, would using the Favour allow us to be Death's knight without any of the code obligations, or am I misreading that option?
>>
>>5278284
>Refuse the offer, and propose a penance (Eternal enemy of undead. Must seek them out when death calls)
>Ask for Brothers freedom
>>
>>5278342
[You are misreading, or I was being unclear. You would get to leave this interaction without owing dead a favour or committing to becoming his knight. Even if you COULD try to scam Death jnto being an obligation-free knight, I would caution against trying to treat a deal with a Dark God like a demon pact or genie wish... As he stated, Death is neither, and not bound by technicalities as they are.]
>>
>>5278284
>Accept Death’s offer, and begin down the path of a Death Knight
>Great One freedom
>>
>>5278357
>>5278360
Why are we asking for bro's freedom again? Death said if he's out then he'll still be in danger to the outside. What, is the plan to meet up with him afterward? He's a super conspicuous giant dragon. People will spread the word he exists on sight. What's the idea here?
>>
>>5278284
>leave for a wedding
>get back to anons voting to enslave themselves to Death
What the fuck were you all thinking? I want to serve ALL the Dark Gods, not be beholden to only one forever straight off the bat!
>Refuse the offer, and accept unknown consequences
What da fuck is wrong with all of you!
>>
>>5278388
It’s about giving him the option. There is no future for him as of now. He needs some sort of freedom or he’ll wither away without us.
>>
>>5278396
The only way to free bro is to return Reptilian kind to the surface. This was the whole point of the Grand Conspiracy in the first place! Stop acting like a special snowflake thinking that these Darks Gods will solve all of your problems for you.

>>5278358
>using our inherited Divine Favor to get us out of a mess we brought upon ourselves
We did not save that fucking favor just so rando anons with no quest context can just use it to escape the consequences of their retarded actions. Why even bring Death into this, this is waaay too early for such an important decision as Patron Deity selection in the first place. It took Izzy five or so threads for the Dark Gods to show themselves to us originally, you shouldn’t be indulging anons requests for meeting with a God until we actually proves ourselves against a worthy foe, not some fucking bug that requires reptilian idiocy for it’s dinner.
>>
>>5278284
FUCK. This interaction with DEATH HIMSELF was taken way too lightly. Anons who didn't have context on what the Dark Gods are like should now take a note on how much of a big fucking deal they are. I'll vote to deny since choosing something this huge so early on is not my cup of tea. As for our bud's freedom... I'm ambivalent but I'll +1 it. It's not really logical in the grand scheme of things for the Reptilians but it's probably the best thing for HIM. What path is there for him now? Live in isolation until the reptilians come back (likely not within his lifetime) with no friends or family? I'd probably not vote for it if we were another character, but if we've done one thing over this quest it is caring for him. That's the one action we've consistently taken throughout it so I'll vote for it for the RP and consistency.

>Refuse the offer, and accept unknown consequences
>Freedom and it's consequences for the Great One....
>>
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>>5278434
>We did not save that fucking favor just so rando anons with no quest context can just use it to escape the consequences of their retarded actions
> you shouldn’t be indulging anons requests for meeting with a God

[I appreciate your opinion re: the gods, but this is Dragonborn ANTIPALADIN Quest, a story about an unholy champion who inherited the favour of the gods and the blood of dragons and is of special interest to the forces that be. The infiltrator pursued the Gods' interest, but the Dragonborn was BORN under their scrutiny.

Anyone playing this quest has all the context they need, even if they never played RIQ, because the Dragonborn is a teenager who never knew his mother and only learned the gods knew who he was about a day ago.

I mentioned that I was unsure if I wanted to run this quest because people would try to metagame it and use it to somehow 'fix' the ending of the last quest. It's too lake for me to flake out now -- I am committed to this for the next few months. However, while you're entitled to your opinion, I am not going to alter my options or try to steer newcomers to better satisfy RIQ's playerbase in ways that don't make sense for the new character or the basic character concept to me. I hope you understand: this quest is for everyone here, not just a select few.

I will, as always, request further meta-input at the end of the thread.]
>>
>>5278456
Based QM. Bad decisions are in character for a dumb fuck teenager.
>>
>>5278447
Ever figure that this might be the quest that returns the reptilians to the surface?

>>5278456
My autism has nothing directly to do with the Divine Favor, but the execution the Dark Gods. I expected a slow build up in importance and knowledge throughout the threads before meeting them directly, maybe on an intermittent individual basis dealing with problem solving or giving mission objectives, not getting baited into a becoming Death’s personal servant on Page 3 of the first thread. The option of using the Divine Favor to escape the first real consequences of our actions was just the cherry here.

I’ve said my piece, it was just such a shock to read after taking a bit of a break.
>>
>>5278533
[Expect a higher 'power-level' and more emphasis on divinity and major social consequences in this quest than the last.]
>>
>>5278533
Eh, I kind of doubt we're going to the surface with this character. Our divination pointed to a cataclysm happening at some point in the future that we'll have to deal with and so I think the reptilians are going to have their hands full with that unless it's something that can be dealt with individually. This is of course speculation, though.
>>
>>5278545
*Reptilians are going to the surface
>>
>>5278541
Noted. Also what is death’s definition of stranger? Would members of race we kno vaguely count?
>>
>>5278560
>deifne "stranger"
[A very fair inquiry!]

Okay NOW you're panicking a little. No offspring? That's... A big commitment. You've never been pemritted in the breeding pits, sure, but you always sort of hoped... No, no, you have other concerns besides 'that.'

"Oh Lord of Endings..." you say, speaking up heistantly; does this count as another question?

"Ask," Death says. "Your allegiance, or your indebtitude, will pay for a simple clarification.

How much of your mind does he have access to? How much of your intent is open to a Dark God?! It is... Unnerving. Still, you ask.

"What constitutes a 'stranger' in this arrangement?"

"A being to whom your have no personal connection, and no reason to preserve for the sake of your corporeal or spiritual masters."

The skeletal behemoth is calm, patient... if you didn't know better, you would think Death Himself was humouring you, granting you special treatment. You think bavk to your vision... To his words about your mother's favour and how she used it. Maybe he is? His empty eye-sockets threaten to absorb your very being into their impenetrable darkness, and you shudder at the thought even as you vibrate with excitement at the notion that you could hold such importance to such an entity.

...You're not sure you're rwady for sucg a responsibility, but you DID comr seeking glory and worthiness before the gods. Is this what you wanted?

[Continue the vote!]
>>
>>5278578
>Refuse the offer, and propose a penance [Anti necromancy]
>Release Big Brother

Terms are pretty good aside from offspring actually but need more experience before decision we can try again later if want
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>>5278284
>Refuse the offer, and propose a penance [Anti necromancy AND anti-undead]
>Release Big Brother
>>
>anons vote to free Big Brother in spite of the consequences
You all know that releasing him also puts the Reptilian Conspiracy and the Grand Design at risk, right? And this is including Big Bro’s death at the hands of the Paladins while we’re doing other missions.

>>5278541
Then I wish you the best in future executions RQM.
>>
>>5278284
>Accept Death’s offer, and begin down the path of a Death Knight
>>
>>5278357
>>5278360
>>5278393
>>5278447
>>5278456
>>5278584
>>5278587
You avert your eyes downwards respectfully.

“My Lord, I…”

You want power, status… But also freedom. This feels like the opposite—like you are selling yourself into slavery. Even in relation to a Dark God, doing so feels… Wrong. Antithetical. You are suddenly very aware of how young you are, how inexperienced—how impulsive. This was foolishness.

“I decline the offer,” you force yourself to say aloud.

“You are certain?” Death asks. “It was YOU who called upon ME, dragonling. YOU who proposed vassalage.”

“I know, but…”

But no children? No preservation of life—not even as an option? It seems a grim path into a barren future, in service to… To this terrible (albeit magnificent) THING before you. You can scarcely comprehend the scope of it—a LIFETIME of servitude to a single being, when you may live to be over ten times your current young age!

“Very well,” Death says, when you cannot finish the thought. “But there will be consequences. There are ALWAYS consequences. They are inevitable.”

“Is there not some necromancer I can slay?” you ask hopefully. “I am happy enough to pledge myself to the destruction of the undead.”

After all, how many such beings can there be?

“Oh, yes, the destructions of mages and other lesser entities who threaten the natural order by which souls form and flow… There is a great deal of work to be done to maintain that equilibrium. And you… You WILL play a part in that design.”

“And the Great One?” you ask. “What of my brother’s freedom?”

“A Death Knight bears status greater than a Chaplain,” Death answers, “but you are no Death Knight. I can offer nothing more.”

Death spreads his wings, which unfurl and unfurl and unfurl, until they are a hundred times the span they had been while folded. They are cloaked in scales and swirling smog, an odourless cloud of dark miasma which enshrouds you both. Gods Below and Beyond… THIS is what you were bartering with? It’s… Elemental.

“If you wish to learn what drove the Serpent Priestess to take her life, travel downwards,” Death suggests. “Remember, though, child: if you would call upon me again, you will not find me; if you call upon another God, you had best consider your decision carefully. My siblings are not as patient as I. They have spent long in isolation from the world. I am well-fed, but they… They hunger.”

With a single beat of the world-spanning wings, Death ascends like a shooting star, straight up. The dark fog goes with him, swirling behind him like fire behind a blazing arrow. As he strips away the bleak blackness with his passage, you find in the room once more… Alone, with the long-dead priestess whose fate remains almost as mysterious as it was before.
>>
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>>5278671

You hear a loud snuffling outside of the room. You turn, and meet the concerned and confused gaze of your older brother, hunched over to extend his long neck into the room. While you were in negotiations with the God of Death, he must have finished torching and tormenting the worms in the spill-chamber.

“Suh-mells strange,” he rumbles. “What hap-punned?”

“Nothing,” you say, sighing. “I’ll tell you later. For now…”
>“Let’s go home. It’s been a long day, and they’ll be missing us soon.”
>“Let’s delve deeper. There’s something down there I need to see.”
>“Let’s rest here. I need time to think, and to meditate and regain my spells.”
>“Let’s talk about my upcoming journey… And what we’re going to do with you.” [propose a plan for how to convince the Chaplain to let you bring the Green Dragonborn with you]
>Write-in

>>5278657
Woops, missed your vote... But it still leaned heavily towards refusal
>>
>>5278675
>“Let’s delve deeper. There’s something down there I need to see.”

It happens.
>>
>>5278675
>“Let’s delve deeper. There’s something down there I need to see.”

can't wait to somehow dial up death again despite him hiding and say we actually do want to be his knight
>>
>>5278675
>>“Let’s delve deeper. There’s something down there I need to see.”
>>
>>5278675
>“Let’s delve deeper. There’s something down there I need to see.”
>>
>>5278675
>“Let’s delve deeper. There’s something down there I need to see.”

Wish could make plan to take big brother but no leverage
>>
>>5278675
>“Let’s delve deeper. There’s something down there I need to see.”

I wasn't there for that Death vote. Quite happy with the outcome though.
Can't wait to see what is the oath of the Autism Math God; I am leaning toward him as always
>>
>missed the most important encounter of the quest because it was written rapidly overnight
Are you fucking kidding me RQM?
>>
>>5278675
>“Let’s rest here. I need time to think, and to meditate and regain my spells.”
I suppose we won't have any more communes with fucking Death after this and our 19yo brain is still too fucking devoid of knowledge to make sense of puzzling things up ahead.
>>
kind of a waste of time calling up Death, isn't it?
>refused to be his knight
>he refuses to free the bro
>got no powerups or anything from him
>all we got is "go further down to find out why the priestess killed herself"
a mystery we could just ignore and move on from, but we fucking wasted this encounter and the answer is all we got from it
might as well go down further and follow the lead he gave us

what were you guys thinking?
>>
>>5278845
[Oh, you'll meet Death again... When he's ready to call in his favour.]

Or when you die.

[If you fine folks do not find a god you would prefer to be a personal Paladin for before then, you'll even have a seocnd shot to beocme a Death Knight. Believe me when I say that this is not even close to the most important choice of the quest.]
>>
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>>5278707
>>5278732
>>5278734
>>5278743
>>5278747
>>5278828
>>5278845
You refuse to let your brush with an actual, elemental force of the universe amount to nothing. You had always deemed of such a grandiose and affirming experience—it CANNOT be just a footnote, leading to some divine debt and naught else to show for it!

“Let’s delve deeper. There’s something down there I need to see.”

The Great One follows you down, down, deeper into the lower darkness.

There are more glowworms here, too, which extends the range of your vision somewhat. The passage, big enough to mostly accommodate even your elder brother, is not meaningfully impeded by their silk and slime for the most part; where it is, a puff of firebreath or slash of your sword suffices to remove the obstacles. You keep a wary eye out for more of their gigantic relations, though…

But what you find is far, far more troubling.

After traveling for some time through widening and shrinking tunnels which bore into the depths of the earth, you find their penultimate destination: a brood chamber. It is not unlike that kept by your own kind, in some regards; a space suitable to the storage of rows upon rows of eggs, waiting for the right conditions to hatch, attended by those tasked to keep them healthy and to rear the hatchlings…

But these are no Reptilian eggs, nor hatchlings, nor keepers.

Instead, you find more of the ‘great-worms’—roughly a dozen of them, and hundreds or thousands of their tiny, squirming brethren. In their midst are clumps of bubbling goo, bloated with thousands or millions of tiny eggs; more troubling than these are the much LARGER equivalent, almost the size of a Reptilian’s egg, but with translucent iridescence, ovoid shape, and silky outer coating which belie their true parentage.

Many are laid amongst piles of fungus and fetid, half-eaten flesh. You see carapaces, and small bones, and larger ones hunting at man-sized beasts dragged up from the lower underdark… And some that cannot be mistaken for anything but fellow Reptilians.
>>
>>5279095
At the centre of it all is the greatest of great-worms, a disgusting and bloated creature whose size is enough even to rival your elder brother: a truly tremendous creature who fills the rear of the cavern with bloated, pulsating bug-flesh, by rhythmic contortions pumping out clumps and clusters of eggs even now. Where most glow-worms boast a dozen or so spike-legs, this creature must have a hundred of the little thorn-limbs, too small to possibly move it with any speed… But then, you get the sense that this creature has not left this cavern in some time. This dragon-sized brood-mother is likely to big to ever leave.

“We havvvve… Vizzzitorzz?”

You flinch and back up slightly at the voice. You automatically look to your brother, though you know the answer before he shakes his head: yes, he heard that too; no, it was not him.

You both slowly turn back to the bloated queen of this glow-worm ‘hive’, who begins to wriggle and jiggle with renewed purpose. The other glow-worms slowly begin to move in tandem, turning to face you as they do so. Not just the greatworms, but every single little glowworm in the huge chamber, begins to bob and wobble back and forth, to jiggle in some great, choreographed ‘dance’ of… Welcome? It feels more like a warning of their coordinated potential, with how they surround you.

“Welcome, zziblingzz.”

The greatest of these worm-creatures slows its movements and begins to rotate in place, unfurling into a longer and less spherical shape as rows of legs unroll and reveal a head and mouth-parts molded by terrible purpose into something ALMOST of a reptiloid shape, with grasping claws and an elongated head. Its many eyes stare, unblinking, beneath eye-spots that seem designed to mimic your own eyes’ placement.

What do you do?
>Run—flee this place, scramble back to the surface, and save yourselves
>Let loose dragonfire, and burn this awful panoply of monsters to cinder
>Demand to know what these creatures are, and what their purpose is so close to your people’s forward base
>Return the greeting, tentatively, and jiggle in tandem; no sudden moves, not yet
>Write-in
>>
>>5279097
>"What kin are you to us, creature?"
>Stay on guard near the entrance of the chamber, ready to flee fighting at the slightest sign of ambush
>>
>>5279097
>Let loose dragonfire, and burn this awful panoply of monsters to cinder
>>
>>5279168
+1
>>
>>5279097
>Demand to know what these creatures are, and what their purpose is so close to your people’s forward bas
>>
>>5279168
+1
>>
>>5279097
>>Demand to know what these creatures are, and what their purpose is so close to your people’s forward base
>>
>>5279097
>Return the greeting, tentatively, and jiggle in tandem; no sudden moves, not yet
>Sibilings? Da fuq?
I don’t think they’re hostile yet.
>>
>>5279308
>>5279264
>>5279262
>>5279195
>>5279180
>>5279168
>>5279337

You stay on guard near the entrance of the chamber, ready to flee or to fight at the slightest sign of ambush. Your brother picks up on your anxiety, uttering a guttural rumble that you know precedes the opening of the passages in his chest leading to the organ which concentrates vital energies into dragonfire. You motion to him to cease, and he obliges. No… There may be time for that later, but not yet.

Still, you decline to 'jiggle'. You have your dignity as a Dragonborn to consider.

"What kin are you to us, creature?" you demand, instead. “Why do you lurk in the shadows of the Master Race? How do you come to speak the True Speech?”

“We learned it from you, ovvv courzze,” this empress of insects hums, still jiggling but settling into more of a slow sway.

“By spying?” you ask, and then gesture to the remains scattered about the room. “Or from your victims, prior to consuming them?”

“From our mutual parentzzz,” the brood-mother replies. “From the Godzzzz, and their Zzzerpent Priezztzzzz.”

This shocks you into silence… But then you look upon the wall behind the worm-matron, and you see it: a symbol of an ovoid—an egg—wrapped up in the coils of a great glow-worm. You reach into your pack and extract its near-match: the holy symbol you took from the cocooned Serpent Priestess corpse. It is a Reptilian egg, identically-encircled by a coiling snake. It is the symbol of the Lady of the Rookery, the Mother of Dragons, the Dark Goddess of hatchlings, of birth, and of home defence.

“The Serpent Priestesses made you,” you infer, speaking the thoughts slowly as they assemble, “at the behest of their goddess.”

“Yezzzz!” the worm-ruler buzzes happily.

“But why?” you ask, dumfounded. This is… Disgusting. Abominable. Bizarre in the extreme! W

What use do the gods have for such insectoids?

“To replazze you,” it buzzes.
>>
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>>5279343
You stare, and you hear your brother’s fire-starter rumble begin anew.

“What,” you say quietly, “do you mean?”

“Your razezz are in decline,” the greatest-of-worms. “They rot and die… Fewer born evvvery zzentury zzinze the mammalzzz came… The Age of Zzcalezzz izz ovvver. We wait until the Zztarzz are Right. When that time comezzz, the Godzzz will need zzervantzz who will not fail.”

No… No, that can’t be right. That’s not possible! You are the Master Race, a chosen people. YOU, in particular, are an emissary of a resurgent bloodline and a magnificent and terrible ideal: the Dragon-King!

“I do not believe you,” you snarl.

The jiggling increases again in rapidity and enthusiasm, and once more other glow-worms large and small joining the dance.

“You do not need to,” their mother says. “I havvve waited for one hundred yearzzz, two hundred yearzzz… I will wait many more, growing our numberzzz… Feeding my brood on foolzz. When you zznakezz fail again, and die, we will rize upeat what izz left to build our zztrength, and gush forth like a tide upon the zzurfaze to reclaim it for our mazzterzzz.”

You reflect on the other dead Priestess’ message, that of the suicidal one:

“We were the first,” you whisper, “but not the only race the Dark Gods created.”

Death was right: his siblings grow impatient with your people. They hunger. And these… These crawling INSECTS are the hunger of the gods made manifest, perhaps. Their hunger… And their doubt.

What do you do?
>Request to leave in peace—you will prove these insects wrong, and deny them their dark victory over your people through your own triumphs
>Attempt to convince the worm-queen that she and her… ‘children’… Should aid your people in an allied victory over the hated children of the Light
>Ask about the goddess who commissioned and commanded these creatures—what is she like? You are shopping for a patron deity…
>Demand the monster submit to you, or be destroyed in the name of the Master Race
>Let loose your flame, and let your brother join you in putting these pretenders to the torch without warning or negotiation
>Write-in
>>
>>5279346
>Let loose your flame, and let your brother join you in putting these pretenders to the torch without warning or negotiation

Twisted things deserve to die. They are an anti-thesis to our glory.
>>
>>5279346
>>Let loose your flame, and let your brother join you in putting these pretenders to the torch without warning or negotiation

>"You will SEE how misguided those Priests were in creating you, abomination, when you face a true champion of the Gods will!"
>>
>>5279346
>Ask about the goddess who commissioned and commanded these creatures—what is she like?
I will not dignify that last part.
>Demand the monster submit to you, or be destroyed in the name of the Master Race
I don’t want to kill you all, but the Reptilians have to have standards (ie Top Dog status). If anything, submitting would allow you and your numbers to grow more with our assistance, and it’s not as if you wouldn’t eat our corpses should we heretical as it is fail in our conspiracy.

If they don’t accept we Fireman their ass.
>>
>>5279343
>Request to leave in peace—you will prove these insects wrong, and deny them their dark victory over your people through your own triumphs
We should be better than surface-apes and prove our Reptilian superiority by... proving Reptilian superiority, not destroying a weaker rival to ensure our *totally not* weakened empire doesn't have to move a finger for another couple fucking decades.
Besides, we might anger Dark Goddess with this, the one who also helps OUR kin defend OUR home from the slaves of light.
However, if a coomer tries to waifu this bitch, I will change to Dragonfire regardless of consequences.

>Dark Goddess of home defence.
The Unholy Mother of Shotguns?
>>
>>5279346
>Attempt to convince the worm-queen that she and her… ‘children’… Should aid your people in an allied victory over the hated children of the Light

Why are we going straight for violence??? We went full reptilian empathy and multi-class in diplomacy!!! This our chance for a big victory.
>>
>>5279346
>Demand the monster submit to you, or be destroyed in the name of the Master Race
>>
>>5279390
Is this the coomer post?
>>
>>5279400
I think it’s a diplo post wanting Dark God solidarity between our races.
>>
>>5279430
Maybe you are right.
>>
>>5279346
>Request to leave in peace—you will prove these insects wrong, and deny them their dark victory over your people through your own triumphs
>>5279379 Makes a good point.
>>
Diplo solidarity is the best possible outcome here.
>>
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>>5279353
>>5279359
Two for flame

>>5279370
>>5279395
Two for submission possibility of flame

>>5279442
>>5279390
Two for diplomacy

[I don't plan to post for another couple hours, but did I make all the options too even again?]
>>
>>5279460
>but did I make all the options too even again
I don't think so... but why would that be a bad thing? Thought we're supposed to choose what to do, not pick the "best".

Also where is my >>5279379 vote? Am I being blacklisted?
>>
>>5279466

[Oops, missed it! Three for the diplomatic/live-and-let-live route, then... Though Still slightly outnumbered by an aggressive posture more broadly-speaking.

As for why 'too even" might be bad, in the final RIQ thread some players expressed a desire for a bit of an easier time and even some light railroading, while in this thread people have compromised their preferred votes in the past to try and encourage me to update faster, or criticized me for giving options they felt weren't suitable. Just trying to gauge if I'm leaving things too open-ended.]
>>
>>5279472
Players are Jerks. You are doing fine.
>>
>>5279346
>Attempt to convince the worm-queen that she and her… ‘children’… Should aid your people in an allied victory over the hated children of the Light

I'll vote for diplomacy. I'm guessing this weird worm-reptile hybrid is susceptible to our reptilian empathy skill and that's literally our best skill so I think diplomacy is the best option here. I also want a glow-worm companion to light up the tunnels on our mission later.
>>
>>5279475
>We can even call her Glowie
>>
>>5279472
My duality is negligible, it's only so that we don't end up fucking the bug.
Also, if it's possible, please try to give us heads up if you know you'll be writing multiple updates in upcoming hours. After RIQ it really catches off-guard.
>light railroading
Oh it's because of THAT. Sorry for that RQM. If it's of any help, I personally didn't perceive the brood mother as an enemy, since she sounded almost friendly at first. The incineration votes might come from anons bring repulsed and wanting nothing to do with her. Truth be told, I also hope the maggots leave the caves, kick the bucket or turn into butterflies somewhere down the line, lol.
>>
>>5279475
>>5279478
+1 for Glowie
>>
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>>5279353
>>5279359

>>5279370
>>5279395

[Four for an aggressive posture, with a threat of death at the very least.]

>>5279379
>>5279442

>>5279390
>>5279475
>>5279484

[Five for a diplomatic posture, requesting to leave and MAYBE an alliance.]

[Posting in an hour! Get your votes in by then, and let me know if I missed anyone.]

>>5279473
>>5279479
Well, as long as people are enjoying it! I will generally be posting one-to-three times a day, in morning, evening, and night, depending on how I'm feeling. Weekends are a special situation, especially a long weekend like this, as I'll either have a guest or family function and not post... OR be free pretty much all day, because no spouse.
>>
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Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>5279497
Your initial instinct is outrage. You want to make this… This THING see how misguided the Priests were in creating it, by test of fire! However, your better judgement holds you back. You were impulsive earlier, and ended up indebted to a god. If you are impulsive now, and destroy this… BEING… Created by yet another god, what consequences might you incur? You hold up a hand, and the Great One swallows his burgeoning flame as well, releasing a smoke-filled huff through his nostrils.

“Do you not think that we would be better served, we… Siblings, children of the Dark Gods, if we worked TOGETEHR to re-assert out right to this world? Imagine, if you and your ‘children’ were to work with us, rather than waiting for us to perish?”

The wiggling and jiggling of the worms subsides somewhat, as the queen of this fetid and repulsive kingdom cups her chin in a surprisingly familiar gesture. On a hunch, you reach out with the Presence, hoping that your natural Reptilian empathy might have an effect on this thing. Perhaps its is some sort of… Hybrid?
>>
>>5279346
>Demand the monster submit to you, or be destroyed in the name of the Master Race
It’s better to intimidate (dat 2d20 is juicy). For the Master Race!
>>
>>5279571
Damn, guess I’m fashionably late to the party eh?
>>
>>5279571
>3
…But no. You sense nothing like the hearts, minds, and souls of your kin in this so-called ‘sibling’. Whatever the insect-empress before you was made from, it is utterly alien to you.

“If we let a failed raze lead uzzz, before the zztarzz are right, we will fall with you, rather than zuczzeeding you.”

“Well, if we fail,” you say, the words tasting like heresy on your tongue, “you can always eat our corpses, right? And in the meantime, we can help you grow your numbers more quickly—”

“To zzervvve azz your zzlavves,” the bug-mother interrupts. “I know your kind, azz I know my own will. You, like me, have the urge to… Dominate. I felt your pzzychic prezzenze juzzt now, zzeeking to influenzze me.”

“Only in the spirit of diplomacy!” you protest.

“Yezzz, but diplomazzzy in thizz inztanzzze meanzz zzubmizzion. We think not.”

You are crestfallen. You’d hoped that this might be your opportunity for a big win—maybe even material aid in your mission ahead. Why, in the end, did you even come down here?

“Will you at least permit us to leave peaceably?” you say, half-spoiling for a fight at this point—a chance to test and better your skills, to put proof to your superiority through martial merit.

“Yezzz, ovv courzzze,” the greatest-worm says, and the worms to either side of you slink away.

“Then… Farewell,” you mutter, turning to leave… But then, the worm-queen surprises you.

“If you are zzeriouzzz about allianzze,” the queen says, “there izzz one thing you can dofor uzzz, and we for you.”

You look back over your shoulder, and the queen sloughs and scampers sideways in gradual rolling motions until a strange being emerges from behind her—another permutation of worm, with something of her grasping limbs and vertebrate-like encephalization, but without the trendemous, bloated, egg-spurting hidnquarters.

“A daughter,” the empress says. “The third zzuch one I have yet produzed. A broodmother herzzelf, in time.”

The peculiar glow-worm bows its head in silence, and waves a limb in a way that would be almost comical if it weren’t so uncanny.

“Take her with you, to lay her eggzzz zzomewhere fruitful.”

“I see how this helps you,” you note. “How does it help us?”

“She izzz a ‘noblewoman’, by your zztandardzz… A zzort of ambazzador. When we rule, we will remember how we were treated, when the remnantzzz of your raze are pleading for zzanctuary…”

You narrow your eyes.

“…And until then, she can lend her glow, her zilk, and her venom.”

Do you agree?
>Yes, recruit this pricness-of-worms into your retinue
>No, reject this abomination’s insult (politely) and leave
>Yes… But turn it over to the Serpent Priests as soon as you get back for detention, and vivisection
>Write-in

>>5279581
Afraid so, but tying it up right at the eleventh hour would have also have been a little lame.
>>
>>5279595
>Write-in
Kill
>>
>>5279595
>Yes, recruit this pricness-of-worms into your retinue
We’ll just dominate her daughter instead with time, as repayment for her mother’s insults. Can’t be too hard with a grub, right?
>>
>>5279595
>Yes, recruit this pricness-of-worms into your retinue

It's not an alliance, but a start. With time we can be a bridge between our respective people's.
>>
>>5279595
>Write-in
Burn EVERYTHING

These creatures are not allies, they seek to replace us

We’ll show them our majesty
>>
>>5279595
>Yes, recruit this pricness-of-worms into your retinue
Glowie! The novice will be very curious about her!
>>
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*princess
[Goddamnit, one day I will learn to properly proof-read my own work.]

[Quick point off order, though: while you're welcome to try to waifu the worm-girl, and I wouldn't dream of trying to take that moot-given right away from you, anyone making the decision to kill or retain the services of this being should be aware of what you're dealing with. See pic related.]
>>
>>5279673
Sexy. But seriously, I was thinking of different subversion efforts like mentalism and the like, alter their perception to see us as something to assist and subordinate themselves to rather than merely wait for them to fail.
>>
For the glow princess I was thinking along the lines that if we cozy up to her enough and convince her of the merits of the reptilians, when she establishes her hive she can be an ally to the reptilians even if the original broodmother isn't. It'll not be as big of a boon, but it will provide more soldiers to the reptilian cause.
>>
>>5279595
>>Yes, recruit this pricness-of-worms into your retinue
I don't want to waifu her, but this seems like a solid win.
>>
>>5279595
>Yes, recruit this princess-of-worms into your retinue
The future is bugs
Time to get the fleshweavers to make us a bug hybrid
bug dragon
big ol dragonfly wings
>>
>>5279901
>>5279879
>>5279646
>>5279642
>>5279631
>>5279629
>>5279620
“…Alright.” You sigh. “Thank you.”

Gratitude is the furthest thing from your mind, actually, but you have precious little else to show for your journey down here, besides a bit of bow practice and a spiritually-troubling series of revelations. Weighing it as logically as you can, a treaty with a potentially-powerful race with a shared religion is PROBABLY more valuable to your people than exterminating all the bug ‘people’ down here in a draconic inferno. Marginally.

The worm-girl half-slithers and half-wiggles towards you. You take a step back, surprised at her size. She looked so small next to her mother, but this entity is nearly as tall as you when she rears up. Then, before you can stop her, she takes your hand in her articulated limb.

“…Um,” you say, startled and not exactly pleased by this development.

The worm-princess glows slightly brighter than before, you think, but says nothing. You suspect you should be meeting her little beady eyes, but her mimic eye-spots continue to seize and hold your gaze… And anyway, there are four eyes, only the two eye-spots, so it just feels more natural.

“Let us return to our home,” you say, after a moment.

On the way back, you…
>Let the worm-princess hold your hand
>Snatch your hand back to give the worm-princess
>Snatch your hand away, and give her a shove and a poke with the sword for good measure

Do you give her a nickname, for convenience?
>Yes, Glowie
>Yes, [write-in]
>No, she doesn’t deserve such a dignity
>>
>>5279934
>Snatch your hand away, and give her a shove and a poke with the sword for good measure
>No, she doesn’t deserve such a dignity
>>
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>>5279934
By the time you reach the forward base, you are tired and sore. You are spared an arduous climb, thanks to the ‘princess’ leading you through a previously-unknown path, and aiding you in your ascent with her ability to climb nearly-sheer surfaces and extend faintly-glowing silk strands to haul you up. Still, the journey as about as easy as it was comforting or glorious—which is to say, not very.

“Huhhh,” the Great One sighs, flapping his wings once to stretch them and then folding them in. “Had fun.”

That gratifies you at least. AND it’s not as if you got NTOHING out of it. Aside from bow practice, and experience dealing with a diverse and unexpected array of none-Reptilians, the spelunking was useful exercise, and in a practical application for your upcoming underground mission.
>+1 Athleticism
>+1 Diplomacy

You take a moment to properly evaluate your day-trip—it MUST have been hours that you were down there, approaching a full twelve—and to reflect on how much you really experienced and accomplished. Prior to today, you’d never journeyed further than an hour or two away from the forward base, never really EXPLORED. You’d never tasted combat, scarcely seen death… And now, you’ve been deep into crevices few of your race have ever lived to tell tales of, slain enemies and made new allies, and seen capital-D DEATH! When you get right down to it, this WAS a life-changing experience…

“About time you got back!” the Novice Fleshweaverdeclares imperiously. “I had to make up some story about you and the Great One being in a deep meditative trance, preparing for journey ahead!”

You sigh, and hang your head. Some things, though, never seem to change.

“Wait,” the Novice says, taking notice of your newest companion. “What is THAT?”
>>
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>>5279944
She hikes up her robes to speed her scampering towards your party. Immediately, she sets upon the bug-being. The worm-princess has no features that you can read, and makes no noise save a little squeak, but her body language speaks to disorientation and discomfort at the Novice’s poking and prodding—an appropriate reaction, as you know from experience.

“Disgusting!” the Novice remarks, drawing a flinch from the bug-princess. “Where did you find it? What is it for?”

“It is…” you pause, then sigh. “She is a member of our expedition.”

The Novice shoots you a skeptical look, as if to say ‘you really think I’ll fall for such a jape?”’ When you return the look levelly, her eyes widen.

“Wait,” she says, “what?”

You explain everything, while the Novice stares in rapt fascination.

“That is unbelievable,” she says.

“I know,” you agree.

“No,” she says, “I mean that I do not believe you. You are embellishing to prop up your own dragon-sized ego. Come on, admit it!”

You look to the worm-princess, who shrugs and nods in an upsettingly-reptiloid way. The Novice glances between you two, and the Great One, who stretches, yawns, and also nods.

“By the Gods…” she murmurs. “Whatever will we tell the Chaplain?”
>Nothing—this is to be kept between you three until the expedition
>Tell the Chaplain the exact location of the bug-nest
>Tell the Chaplain about the deal you struck, but do not tell him the location or exact nature of the bug-nest
>Write-in

>>5279940
>>5279942
[Sorry, I should have put in a
>CONTINUED
But I didn't expect my file to be corrupted and delay the rest of the post. Please vote for this, too, you two. Again, sorry!]
>>
>>5279945
>Nothing—this is to be kept between you three until the expedition
>>
>>5279934
>Let the worm-princess hold your hand
>Yes, Glowie

I don't see any reason why we should be a dick to her. She's just kind of gross.

>Nothing—this is to be kept between you three until the expedition

The chaplain hasn't exactly been truthful with us so why should we? He doesn't need to know about our little expedition...
>>
>>5279945
>Let the worm-princess hold your hand
>Yes, Glowie
>Nothing—this is to be kept between you three until the expedition

Glowie!!!
>>
>>5279934
>Let the worm-princess hold your hand
>Yes, Glowie

>>5279945
>Nothing—this is to be kept between you three until the expedition

Well, I must say RQM, you certainly blown my expectations out of the water.
>>
>>5279990
[Like... In a good way, or a bad way?]
>>
>>5279901
Dragons + insects = dragonflies. It makes perfect sense, though dragonflies having a ridiculously short lifespan ain't very good
>>
>>5279934
>Let the worm-princess hold your hand
>No, she doesn’t deserve such a dignity
Lamplighter bros...

>Nothing—this is to be kept between you three until the expedition
>>
>>5280010
In an unexpected way. Never expected to meet a bug-monster princess, let alone travel with one.
>>
>>5279944
Tell the Chaplain about the deal you struck, but do not tell him the location or exact nature of the bug-nest
>Write-in

Let's go for full bug WAIFU after she levels up.
>>
>>5279934
>Let the worm-princess hold your hand
Truly an honor

>Yes, [write-in]
Radiant

>Nothing—this is to be kept between you three until the expedition
This was commanded by the gods themselves
If they wanted the Chaplain to know they would have told him
>>
>Let the worm-princess hold your hand
>Yes, Glowie
I'm glad the name proposition caught up
>Nothing—this is to be kept between you three until the expedition
>>
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>>5280071
>>5280051
>>5280048
>>5279990
>>5279960
>>5279955
>>5279949
>>5279942
>>5280112

[We seem to have a sweep on the votes, so I’ll do one more post before bed; we’ll see how the morning goes, but I may or may not post then.]

You let the so-called bug-princess hold your hand as you return your brother to his chamber. You bid him farewell, and he waves you off good-naturedly as he slumps into his camber and chambers atop his throne to curl up and slumber. The day exertions of the day have clearly taken a lot out of him—as with you. In your youth, you might have stayed in that chamber with him, taking comfort in the rhythmic sound of his (admittedly loud) snoring. Tonight, though, you cannot even enter the chamber, lest his harem see the bizarre creature clutching your appendage.

“Why is it doing that?” the Novice sneers.

“I am not sure,” you admit. “I think Glowie is unused to being alone. Her other seems to… Commune with her ‘children’.”

Almost like a more intense and absolute form of the draconic Presence, you reflect—an insectoid empathy, perhaps?

The Novice just stares at you, then muffles her mouth to hide a rattling laugh.

“What?” you demand.

“’Glowie’?” she asks. “You named it ‘Glowie’? You NAMED it?”

“For brevity’s sake,” you huff.

Glowie shies away from the direct attention, but you notice that’s he—it? She?—fluoresces a little more brightly when you say the name.

“Just how degenerate ARE you, Hybrid?” the Novice teases.

You do her best to ignore her, though Glowie does not release your hand all the way to her final destination—where she will be spending the next 70-or-so hours.
>>
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>>5280129
“MY quarters?!” the Novice exclaims.

You shush her, and she grudgingly concedes, lowering her volume.

“Why should I store the arthropod ambassador in my quarters?!” she hisses.

“You've proven willing and able to keep a secret," you acknowledge.

"Yes, well... I can hardly have the Chaplain delaying our surface-expedition over dithering about some bugs in the basement, can I?" she says, avoiding looking at you. "Do not think that my silence on all matters is guaranteed, FALSE Dragonborn."

"I will keep this in mind,” you reply, though ti is by now obvious to you that the Novice is, despite her protests, unlikely to compromise your mission for short-term gain. “But I can hardly keep her with me, and I have preparations to finalize for the journey ahead, so leaving her unsupervised in my quarters is unreasonable. She is a newcomer, and an alien to our race’s customs.”

“What abut ME?” the Novice shoots back. “MY preparations?”

“You are already prepared,” you assert, guessing. By the way the Novice Fleshweaver holds her breath and glowers at you, you know you have guessed correctly.

“What have you got for m?” you ask, sighing.

“While you were gallivanting in worm-world, pestering deities and such, I was doing actual WORK,” the Novice says, radiating jealousy for your comparatively-fantabulous excursion.

It serves the purpose of making you feel more accomplished, despite her intent.

“Here,” she snaps, shoving a poorly-rolled scroll into your hands.

You unfurl it and read through it. The names are mostly unfamiliar to you—none of your mutual childhood acquaintances, which surprises you. You’d expected this child-of-nepotism to draw upon her high-born accomplices in bullying and harassing. Instead…

“A cartographer, a specialist in elven magical theory, a translator, and a… Botanist?”

“Plants are the fungi of the surface-realm,” the Novice says, a little too loudly in her defensiveness, before turning away. “We have little experience with them. Someone who has studied them will be… Useful, as an apothecary.”

“I see no other Fleshweavers,” you point out. “No theologists or clerics.”

“You already have me,” she hisses. “Is that not enough?”

What do you do?
>Approve the Novice’s list
>Modify the Novice’s list—you wish to have an expert on religion on hand, given… Recent developments
>Modify the Novice’s list—a spare healer with more experience would be wise
>Reject the Novice’s list outright, and demand to choose your own retinue in full [breaks your deal, may incur her wrath]
>Ask the Novice why she didn’t invite any of her old friends
>Write-in
>>
>>5280132
>Approve the Novice’s list
My word is my bond.
>>
>>5280132
>Modify the Novice’s list—a spare healer with more experience would be wise
>Ask the Novice why she didn’t invite any of her old friends
>Ask her to be nice to Glowie while we're gone. No weird experiments.
>>
>>5280135
We can always go and recruit that on our extra men, without backing on our deal
>>
>>5280137
Ok, new vote

>Approve the Novice’s list.
>Ask the Novice why she didn’t invite any of her old friends
>Ask her to be nice to Glowie while we're gone. No weird experiments.
>>
>>5280138
Support
>>
>>5280138
Support
Glowie is friend!!!
>>
Ok, we need to discuss the list and the plan.
>"This will leave you the freedom to select another eight meat-shields to keep us safe as we attend to our REAL work.”
We have the breeding pit tard Wrangler and Glowie so far (not sure if she counts as one or not). Glowie will provide us with a hoard of meatshields. So we can afford a religion expert (First let's consult experts, choose Math Autism Eye God, recruit the relevent priest) and anoter healer. We need to find 5 more muscles after that.

Thoughts?
>>
>>5280192
L5R Dragonblooded Monk (unless that’s technically us), an Uncle Iroh-type pyromancer [Dragonblooded also?](we’d make a decent Prince Zuko), a Silkscale rouge (non-idiot this time), a bulli-able Degenerate (just for fun), and throw in Sparky Sparky Boom Man (god I love Avatar). If you want a more serious list, I’d have to actually see the potential recruits. We can always start recruiting from the Breeding Pits again (it actually worked out decently well before desu).
>>
>>5280132
>Ask the Novice why she didn’t invite any of her old friends


>misses fucking princess bug choice
So we're now turning master race into a freaky shitshow, because a bunch of weirdos saw [bug]+[female] and demand genemixing with fucking insects now?
We should've scorched this cave. This was last time I gave anything of this sort benefit of a doubt.
>>5279901
>>5280017
Dragonflies aren't related to dragons...
>>
>>5280215
I don’t think anyone actually wants to wife the bug anon? We just worship the same gods and so it would be more beneficial to ally with them then kill. Especially because of the possible fallout from the gods for killing them.
>>
>>5280215
On my side, I just plan to use the bugs as Zerg-style invasion force. We worship the same gods so it's better to share a word with them than with apes-mammals.
>>
>>5280133
>>5280138
>>5280153
>>5280155
>>5280215
“This seems fine,” you say, returning the scroll to the Novice.

“Of course,” she says smugly, rerolling it and tucking it into her robes. “I AM a well-connected burgeoning expert in a prestigious field, you know.”

“Is that why you saw no need to recruit any of your childhood companions?” you ask.

The Novice freezes. You looks at her quizzically, confused by the reaction.

“I was surprised not to see any of our other compatriots on there… The other high-born hatchlings with whom you used to spend your time.”

Time often spent making sport of you.

“Well, most of them did not go into terribly relevant fields,” she says, smoothing out her robe but avoiding your gaze.

You narrow your eyes.

“No others from your own field, either,” you note. “You, who benefits from such nepotism, are not taking advantage of the biggest opportunity of your life to cultivate favour?”

“There will be plenty more opportunities,” the Novice Fleshweaver fires back, “in a life like mine!”

You unconsciously exchange a look with Glowie who… Well, okay, you can’t read Glowie’s expression or intent at all. You think you better understand the Novice, though.

“You have no friends,” you say, neither sympathetic nor mocking.

“Quiet yourself, Degenerateborn!” she hisses, tail lashing and fidgeting now in displeasure.

“What became of your alliances, Chaplain’s Daughter?” you press, curious despite yourself.

“I dedicated myself to my craft, and to my ambition,” she says. “I dared to pursue a path which those small-minded, sedentary serpents could not understand, and so…”

And so, as they had bullied and ostracized you, they did likewise to her.

“Well, you have at least one friend,” you say softly.

The Novice looks up at you, in surprise and with some expression you can’t quiet discern. That expression abruptly transforms when you gently push Glowie into the female Reptilian’s arms.

“You meant the bug,” the Novice says.

“I meant the bug,” you confirmed. “Her nickname is Glowie. Be nice, and no weird experiments.”

The Novice grumbles, and Glowie stares after you as you go. You leave her quarters and return to your own. There, you strip off your light armour and fall belly-down upon the slab of your bed, slipping almost immediately into a well-deserved torpor.
>>
>>5280392

The next day, you awake, sore as you have rarely been, and yet… Satisfied in that soreness. You have had stops and starts, but something ahs changed. You are beginning to feel more… Like yourself, like what you were MEANT to be.

Well, you have a little over 60 hours until your planned departure. You have forces to recruit, armour to retrieve… Oh, and those artifacts you uncovered, still sitting in your pack or tucked into hidden crevices about your room.

The commissioned ceremonial armour is priority one, of course—its majesty will help impress potential recruits—but what will you do about those recovered items? You’ll keep the potion, of course, and maybe the daggers, but the symbols, badges, and staff are less useful to you. They will also hardly better your prestige and reputation hidden away as they presently are… But if you return them, there will be questions about where you found them, and the Chaplain may catch word.

What do you do?
>Return the items to their organizations and next-of-kin anonymously [+altruism]
>Announce your discoveries—albeit not the bit about gods or bugs—and dole them out in the main chamber [+pride]
>Hoard them to yourself, or sell those which can be better used to finance the shiny and useful things which you desire [+greed]
>Write-in
>>
>>5280394
>Announce your discoveries—albeit not the bit about gods or bugs—and dole them out in the main chamber [+pride]

The MC is honestly surprisingly altruistic, but I'd say our pride is still our main character trait. We've been groomed from birth to believe in our superiority and might as a dragon.
>>
>>5280394
>Hoard them to yourself, or sell those which can be better used to finance the shiny and useful things which you desire [+greed]
>>
>>5280394
>>Announce your discoveries—albeit not the bit about gods or bugs—and dole them out in the main chamber [+pride]

Getting a bit of an aura will definitely help us recruit better troops.
>>
>>5280406
+1; I think part of the altruism and (anti)-Paladin elements of the protag are due to us picking Reptilian Empathy and having the big green dragon as our somewhat handicapped bro
>>
>>5280394
>Announce your discoveries—albeit not the bit about gods or bugs—and dole them out in the main chamber [+pride]
>>
>>5280394
>Return the items to their organizations and next-of-kin anonymously
Claiming shit from our own kin is not very supreme, that's what monkeys do. Can't announce it publicly without scrutiny from Chaplain so that's a no-no as well.
However, the real looting will begin very soon.
>>
>>5280215
>>5280218
Anons we will eat out the bugs

>Hoard them to yourself, or sell those which can be better used to finance the shiny and useful things which you desire [+greed]
dragon
>>
>Announce your discoveries—albeit not the bit about gods or bugs—and dole them out in the main chamber [+pride]
Show the lesser reptiles what a true dragon looks like
>>
>>5280478
Yes. 110%. Don't let them.
>>
>>5280394
>Hoard them to yourself, or sell those which can be better used to finance the shiny and useful things which you desire [+greed]
>>
>>5280394
>>Announce your discoveries—albeit not the bit about gods or bugs—and dole them out in the main chamber [+pride]

>“Well, you have at least one friend,” you say softly.
>The Novice looks up at you, in surprise and with some expression you can’t quiet discern. That expression abruptly transforms when you gently push Glowie into the female Reptilian’s arms.
>“You meant the bug,” the Novice says.
THOT
PATROLLED
>>
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Bugs?
>>
>>5280394
>Announce your discoveries—albeit not the bit about gods or bugs—and dole them out in the main chamber [+pride]

We are a leader after all
>>
>>5280889
>>5280715
>>5280573
>>5280522
>>5280478
>>5280448
>>5280445
>>5280437
>>5280434
>>5280425
>>5280406
You spend some tome thinking it over, but ultimately you decide to declare your triumph and to share the spoils openly and plainly. After all, are you not a dragon? Well… No, but you WANT to be, and that means acting like one. A dragon does not shy away from the eyes of others, skulking about to avoid punishment. A dragon strides! A dragon SOARS!

You (alas) cannot yet soar, but you CAN stride. You do so boldly, from the armourer's smithy to the central gathering hall where food rations are doled out and Reptilians from underdark and surface alike stop in their travels to coordinate their personal and Serpent-assigned missions. Your pack is slung over one shoulder, hooked on the spikes of your ornate golden pauldrons. You step high, bringing feet down hard in a mighty march that echoes the halls like the tread of the giant dragon-kings of old. By the time you arrive, all eyes are on you.

“What in the hells?” you hear one Silkscale male whisper to a Steeltalon companion.

“I think that’s the Lesser Dragonborn,” another Reptilian murmurs.

“What is he wearing?” asks another. “Armour? Why?”

“In preparation for a journey to the surface,” you announce, causing them all to flinch and to bow their heads and avert their eyes respectfully. “A journey to subjugate the heretics in Bloodrise, in the name of the Dark Gods and their Grand Design. I have been chosen to lead this expedition, as a CHAMPION!”

Your fellows’ obligatory cordiality seems to turn to genuine interest when you drop your bag, unbuttoning it and spilling the contents out on a linen blanket like a cornucopia of ancient treasures. As you begin to tell the tale of how you acquired them from the abandoned areas below, their reverence grows.

“I’ve heard that travelers to that area often do not come back alive,” one Silkscale notes.

“Swept away by rivers, fallen into crevices, or lost behind rock-falls?” asks a Steeltalon.

“Or eaten by monsters,” suggests a third Reptilian.

“The monsters I encountered were not so fearsome,” you boast, “not to me.”

You tell the tale, earning additional esteem in the eyes of your fellows… Even if you do have to modify the story of your battle slightly, neglecting the mention the exact nature of the monsters you encountered and the fact that most of them were left alive.

The abridged and edited version still draws a crowd. This includes a Dragonblooded One who requests the staff, symbol of some distant relation who went missing; his clan sigil, a match to that on the officiant’s staff you found, supports this. An enforcer takes the badge with a bow of thanks and recognition… And, eventually, a Serpent Priest joins the crowd, too.

Or, rather, a Priestess, bearing the symbol of the Lady of the Rookery.
>>
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>>5281161
You hesitantly produce the holy symbol you found on her dead fellow-cleric… And the suicide of the other, following their goddess’ apparent rejection of your race as her chosen people. You can hardly speak openly about it without creating schism and riot, and revealing the existence of the wormfolk to the other Reptilians…

What do you do?
>Give her the scroll-case as well, and ask to speak with her alone about your discoveries
>Return the badge, but keep the scroll-case; you plan to read it yourself after you leave
>Ask her about her goddess—you are not so familiar with the Mother of Dragons, and perhaps it is time that changed
>Show her no respect—she and her deity do not deserve it
>Write-in

The next matter to attend to is, of course, recruitment of additional forces. What is you plan for that?
>Proselytize and harangue the crowd gathered in the main hall, calling the most zealous and enthusiastic to your flock
>Seek out additional experts in mysticism, religion, and matters draconic
>Summon the Pit-Guard, and ask him if he knows any other worthy warriors or bruisers to strengthen your ranks
>Rogues, scouts, and other such experts in matters of the surface would be appreciated
>Perhaps some Degenerates—you’re beginning to fancy yourself something of an outcast champion
>Write-in
>>
>>5281164
>Give her the scroll-case as well, and ask to speak with her alone about your discoveries

>Rogues, scouts, and other such experts in matters of the surface would be appreciated
>Perhaps some Degenerates—you’re beginning to fancy yourself something of an outcast champion

These two options kind of go hand in hand. We're actually a degenerate ourself, but they don't know that. I'm mainly picking choosing degenerates since the worm princess is going to be travelling with us, we need loyal people on our expedition so that secret doesn't get spilled. I'm guessing if we take a chance on some degenerates they'll be very loyal to us.
>>
>>5281164
>Ask her about her goddess—you are not so familiar with the Mother of Dragons, and perhaps it is time that changed

>Proselytize and harangue the crowd gathered in the main hall, calling the most zealous and enthusiastic to your flock
Should be a good mix of diverse skillsets.
>Summon the Pit-Guard, and ask him if he knows any other worthy warriors or bruisers to strengthen your ranks
>Rogues, scouts, and other such experts in matters of the surface would be appreciated
The last two options are presences from the crowd.
>>
>>5281164
>Show her no respect—she and her deity do not deserve it
>Seek out additional experts in mysticism, religion, and matters draconic
>>
>>5281164

>Return the badge, but keep the scroll-case; you plan to read it yourself after you leave
>Perhaps some Degenerates—you’re beginning to fancy yourself something of an outcast champion
Greater prestige if complete expedition with ugly degenerates
>>
>>5281164
>Return the badge, but keep the scroll-case; you plan to read it yourself after you leave
>Ask her about her goddess—you are not so familiar with the Mother of Dragons, and perhaps it is time that changed

more like mother of bugs now apparently

>Proselytize and harangue the crowd gathered in the main hall, calling the most zealous and enthusiastic to your flock
no filthy degenerates
>>
Could a kobold be taken on the expedition? It could prove useful as an infiltrator.
>>
>>5281164
>Ask her about her goddess—you are not so familiar with the Mother of Dragons, and perhaps it is time that changed

>Proselytize and harangue the crowd gathered in the main hall, calling the most zealous and enthusiastic to your flock
>>
>>5281371
If its allowed then
> Kobold infiltrator
>Perhaps some Degenerates—you’re beginning to fancy yourself something of an outcast champion
>Summon the Pit-Guard, and ask him if he knows any other worthy warriors or bruisers to strengthen your ranks

>Return the badge, but keep the scroll-case; you plan to read it yourself after you leave
don’t trust priests or even chaplain
>>
>>5281164
>Give her the scroll-case as well, and ask to speak with her alone about your discoveries

>Proselytize and harangue the crowd gathered in the main hall, calling the most zealous and enthusiastic to your flock
This is to capitalize on our previous choice, and drag a bit of
>All of the above
>>
>>5281164
>Give her the scroll-case as well, and ask to speak with her alone about your discoveries
>Ask her about her goddess—you are not so familiar with the Mother of Dragons, and perhaps it is time that changed

>Seek out additional experts in mysticism, religion, and matters draconic
>Summon the Pit-Guard, and ask him if he knows any other worthy warriors or bruisers to strengthen your ranks
>Rogues, scouts, and other such experts in matters of the surface would be appreciated
>Perhaps some Degenerates—you’re beginning to fancy yourself something of an outcast champion
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>5281437
>>5281416
>>5281390
>>5281384
>>5281248
>>5281204
>>5281193
>>5281192
>>5281178


[Calling the vote. Rolling to see if we hand off the scroll-case or not; definitely asking about the goddess. Vote 2 got... Crowded at the end, but I think we can facilitate this. Just a heads up, though: voting for every (or almost every) option results in complications and delays, sometimes. It makes for lengthier, more complicated posts, and sometimes just makes intent and direction unclear and muddled. I can roll with it on an occasion like this, but please try to narrow your selections down in future, those of you who chose more than 3 things for Vote 2]
>>
>>5281441
I'd say just take the top 3 options in situations like this. Going for literally every possible niche is pretty unreasonable here.
>>
Rolled 4, 10, 19, 18 = 51 (4d20)

>>5281441
>Vote 1: keep the scroll (per roll), ask about the goddess
You resist the urge to look down at the scroll-case, still unopened in your bag, as you button it back up. The Priestess doesn’t notice it either, and if she did… Well, she has no reason to suspect where you got it, or what it might contain. Just to play it safe, you decide to distract her by sating your curiosity.

“You know, I have very little familiarity with your patron deity, despite her auspicious title,” you admit.

“Ah, I suppose the Dragonborn WOULD have a great interest in the Mother of Dragons, wouldn’t you?” she acknowledges.

‘More like Mother of Bugs,’ you think to yourself, though you nod respectfully.

“Our Lady is a keeper and preserver of life,” the Serpent Priestess explains. “In these dark days, when infertility is increasingly a problem and our people are isolated and scattered, she alone can grant us fertility, mitigate the deleterious effects of intra-clan breeding so that we can maintain our castes’ wondrous array of diverse skills…”

“She is also a goddess of home defence, is she not?” you ask.

The Serpent priestess nods enthusiastically. The crowd you have gathered turns their attention to her sermonizing, drawn by you but now captivated by her tales of great defensive battles and struggles to survive against the endless waves of fast-breeding surface scum… Of rookeries whose defenders fought off armies to preserve clutches of eggs which contained great leaders and heroes.

“One must wonder if a wonder like YOURSELF could even feasibly exist without her blessing,” The Serpent Priestess concludes.

You bow your head, accepting the compliment… But all this talk of racial purity, surface-mammal scum, and of the Lady of the Rookery defending all of Reptiliankind against the degeneracy above draws uncomfortable looks from the few Degenerate half-mammals—mostly half-humans, dark-skinned and visiting from your people’s Southern holdings—cannot help but give you conflicting feelings. After all, are you not TECHNCIALLY a Degenerate yourself? Besides, and far more importantly, are you not DRAGON? Where was this goddess when the last clutch of dragon eggs was smashed by barbarians, laves to the False ‘Gods’ of Light?

You raise the question politely, and the Serpent Priestess casts her gaze upwards and clasps her hands, as if praying to intercede for your youthful impetuousness with the Goddess.

“Young One,” she says benevolently, “you know that the Dark Gods do not give ‘gifts’. They make promises only in exchange for other promises. They help those who help themselves. Charity is weakness and foolishness, buying false strength and temporary advantage while breeding weakness.”

You nod. This is dogma, and you know it well.

“Then we will have to make ourselves worthy,” you say. “All of us, proving our worth to the Dark Gods… And Goddesses! ALL of The Lady’s beloved children…”
>>
>>5281451
>Vote 2: Make a zealous appeal to the underclass—rogues, scouts, rough-and-tumble brawlers, and degenerates

“Even you!” you declare, pointing at a Degenerate, whose Reptilian eyes widen in his lean, pinkish-skinned, fur-speckled face; a face framed by the sharp-tipped, elongated ear-flaps you take to be the mark of an Elfblooded One.

“Wh-what?” he says, pointing at himself and taking a step back, thoroughly uncomfortable at the sudden and direct attention (not all of it approving) from everyone else in the room.

“I am going to the Stolen Lands of the world above,” you declare, as your rhetorical target hastily turns his eyes downward in deference.

You have their attention now, though, and though you sense the Serpent priestess’ discomfort with your rhetoric, you take a breath, channel your Presence, and press onwards. A Dragon is fearless. A Dragon is Fearsome!

“I will need those with experience of surface culture. I will need thieves, and scouts, and brawlers. Those who are used to living outside of, and on the fringes, of our Great Society… And who long to prove themselves. The lesser-bred… The hungry… The ones who are ready and able to put their trust in the Dark Gods, and in ME, and abandon the world below for a world unknown! Those who would SEIZE destiny, SEIZE glory, SEIZE loot to fill a hoard such as no Reptilian has seen since the Age of Scales… The Age of Dragons! MY AGE! OUR AGE!”

Okay, maybe you got a little… Exuberant. The Priestess’ stories of past glory, and memories of your vision two nights prior, and of your meeting with the God of Death… It swept you up, up, and away. You felt… You felt as if you were flying!

>19 for Reptilian Empathy + Diplomacy

…And so, it seems, did your audience. They soared with you, on wings of imagination, to a world and a future where dragon’s blood flowed in each of them—where they were kings and queens of a World of Darkness, a Master Race regardless of the purity of their bloodline. You see faces common in their blandness and uncommon in their ugliness alight with rapacious hunger, eyes blazing with the fire of ancient furies and distant glories, hearts full of hope.

And YOU… You are their hope.

“Who is with me?” you ask, a bit more quietly.

Their roar of reply is not quiet.
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>>5281481
You march your column of jubilant zealots to the breeding pits, where ethe guards on duty look at your horde of breeding-restricted mongrels and low-bloods with horror. They know that they cannot stop you all. Imagine their relief when, rather than storming their flesh-den in some act of riotous rebellion, you merely call out for the Pit-Guard who you know from the day before. You recognize him easily by his still-battered face, and you call him to your side.

“Dragonborn,” he acknowledges you, though his eyes roam your supplicants instead. “What is this?”

“This is…” you pause, trying to decide what to call it. “A near-critical success in my recruitment efforts for our expedition. I must cull these ranks. I can select only seven. Can you help me separate meat from fat?”

In the end, the Pit-Guard’s age and experience at vetting worthies and testing mettle proves immensely useful. With a sadistic glee barely hidden behind a stiffened face, he bellows and belts with blows the weakest-willed members of your over-excited assembly, chasing and frightening away those who are physically or mentally unworthy. Those who refuse to accept his judgement fall before his fists, or wither beneath your own judgement.

You are left with:
>‘Paeris’, the half-elven Degenerate who you earlier spotted in the crowd (a tracker and scout with some gift for ‘music-magic’, he says)
>‘Oluwadamilare’; a dark-skinned Degenerate male of middle-age, with eyes even darker than his complexion who declares a willingness to die for you; he proved this, in daring to even bite and claw with his pathetic mammal-mouth and nails at the Pit-Guard for the privilege
>‘The Bastard’; A reddish-skinned Dragonblood/Steeltalon hybrid, clanless and thin with hunger, who cannot produce fire but can resist it, and who fights with a desperation that speaks to miserable circumstances
>‘The North-Merchant and South-Merchant’’; a pair of Silkscale merchants who have experience in exploring the surface to the North and South respectively, and who prove at least nimble enough to evade the Pit-Guard’s blows and slip free of his grappling attempts for a time
>‘The Thief’; another Silkscale male, a young one who admits to being a thief and a Shamed One, and who bares the brand of that shame on his face, but who has considerable skill with a knife and ALSO admits to skulking the surface alone, without an Amulet of Disguise… And without being detected for several years
>‘The Pit-Guard’s Apprentice’; technically another Steeltalon pit-guard, a bit younger and less-experienced than THE Pit-Guard, but also bigger, and nearly as strong, as the Pit-Guard; his coworker vouches for him, and he demonstrates his skill against a few lesser challengers to his position

Thus, your retinue is filled!
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>>5281484
Do you reject any of the candidates?
>Yes [specify who, and what you’re looking for instead]
>No, this is fine

What comes next?
>Outfit your retinue with equipment using the coin you acquired down below, on your day-trip
>Buy the retinue a feast with your coin, and bond with them, establishing a rapport
>Kick in the door of the breeding-pits and have some fun after all—why not?
>Go to the sparring-grounds to get in some group combat training with these worthy-unworthies
>Leave the rabble to train under the Pit-Guard, appointing him official lieutenant, while you attend to other matters
>Write-in
>>
>>5281485
>No, this is fine

>Outfit your retinue with equipment using the coin you acquired down below, on your day-trip
>Leave the rabble to train under the Pit-Guard, appointing him official lieutenant, while you attend to other matters
>Read the religious scroll

This is a pretty balanced group albeit lacking in magical talent. I'd say we go buy them some equipment with the coin we gained and then leave them to train under the Pit-Guard. Then we should have time to look at that scroll, I have a feeling it will tell us more about the so called mother of dragons than that priestess ever could.
>>
>>5281485
>No, this is fine
>Outfit your retinue with equipment using the coin you acquired down below, on your day-trip
>Leave the rabble to train under the Pit-Guard, appointing him official lieutenant, while you attend to other matters
>Meditate with “The Bastard” and Great One

I see Bastard as right hand potential. Dragonblooded and clanless we can adopt him as our own.
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>>5281485
>No, this is fine

>Kick in the door of the breeding-pits and have some fun after all—why not?
About time. After that
>Buy the retinue a feast with your coin, and bond with them, establishing a rapport
We must establish their loyalty to us.
>>
>>5281498
We'd get disowned so fast if we did that man
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>>5281504
Compared to kidnapping the Great One from their supervision to go galavanting in the dangerous underground? We’re kinda past that point lad. Besides, infertility will kill off the Master Race if there isn’t new blood circulating though the generations.
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>>5281485
I like >>5281497 idea.
However, here's my submission :
>No, this is fine
>Outfit your retinue with equipment using the coin you acquired down below, on your day-trip
>Leave the rabble to train under the Pit-Guard, appointing him official lieutenant, while you attend to other matters
>Try to commune with the God of Reason and Logic, Master of the Insightful Eye

Let's put "Paladin" back into my dragonborn Paladin quest. I feel this god is a good fit for us
Am >>5280192 / >>5281416
Phoneposting
>>
>>5281511
>not wanting to work with the pantheon of Dark Gods
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>>5281514
I think the master of Insightful Eye IS a dark god.
Maybe I dropped the spaghetti
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>>5281497
Support. Changing vote.
This is probably a better idea than reading the scroll. It's not like reading it will take a while and we have a limited amount of time with the Great One.

As for communing with the Dark Gods? We really don't know enough about them in my opinion, so far we've been shown that they're not to be trusted if the Mother of Dragons is anything to go off. Let's look at all the options before anymore communing.
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>>5281516
Nah, you be right. I just want to help them all instead of just the one, ya know?
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>>5281511
+1

>>5281514
I don't think that's how paladins work.
>>
The thing is with communing we're going to be rolling a single 1d20 to see if it succeeds. I'd rather use our reptilian empathy dice and see if we can get the next level of our dragon spell before the expedition. It's also a chance for bonding.
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>>5281524
I was there for the original antiPaladin Quest, which originally was going to be some glorified bandit mook with no magic or religious powers. Trust me when I say that committing to a Pantheon of Dark Gods is not only doable, but probably preferable in avoiding extreme dogmatic autism.

>>5281533
I mean, I’m not opposed to meditating with the Great One (having the Bastard join us is too much of a stretch for me to support though), I mainly just want to test our a private theory I have about the Breeding Pits first. If you’re willing to compromise on the Breeding Pits (and having the Bastard join us in meditation), I would be willing to compromise on meditating with our Bro.
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>>5281550
Can I ask what the private theory is?
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>>5281551
You can, but that would likely spoil the test. If you’ve read RIQ, you have the pieces to draw a certain interesting conclusion that may prove relevant. I won’t mind if you don’t commit to it because I’m being too vague here, for I’m certain that I’ll get other chances to see if my theory bears fruit, I’m just wondering if you are willing to indulge my curiosity on a lark.
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>>5281490
Supporting this
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>>5281484
>No, this is fine
>Outfit your retinue with equipment using the coin you acquired down below, on your day-trip
>Buy the retinue a feast with your coin
>Leave the rabble to train under the Pit-Guard

Sounds like Suicide Squad lmao.

>>5281511
>>5281524
ANTIpaladin, anons. I think we're the lawful evil for everything that doesn't serve Dark Gods.
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>>5281611
>>5281585
>>5281524
>>5281521
>>5281511
>>5281498
>>5281497
>>5281490
You survey your expeditionary corps, and find them satisfactory—even good! However, there are a couple things missing: equipment, and training. Luckily, you have the coin for the former, and just the Reptilian to manage the latter.

“Pit-Guard,” you summon him again.

He nods to his Apprentice, and hurries to your side, bowing his head respectfully. He is caught off-guard when you place the heavy sack of coin in his claws.

“Superior One, what is this for?”

“Outfitting our expedition,” you say. “Prioritize arms and armour, practical equipment. If there is coin left over, bring it back to me… When you are done with training these others. Ensure they understand their weapons, and one another. You will be my lieutenant… For now.”

The Pit-Guard bows his head lower. “It will be done. I am… Honoured.”

‘Surprised’ might be a better word. This is the male who has beaten and kicked you away from the breeding pits for almost a decade now, and who just a few days ago you battered in retaliation. However, he is the oldest male in your retinue, and he has experience as an enforcer-of-orders and as a warrior. He will be a useful second-in-command, at least for now, and is best suited to lead such a training exercise. At least, that’s what you reason.

“And you, Superior One?” he asks. “Will you not be joining us?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I have other matters to attend to.”

“Such as?” the Pit-Guard asks, then turns his gaze back down when you glare at him for his impudent tone; while you gather he’d see you training with your men, he well remembers that you are already more than his martial match.

What is it you plan to do, while your new recruits are shopping and sparring?
>Check in on the Novice and Glowie, and read the mysterious scroll of the Serpent priestess with the only two members of the retinue who are privy to the secret of the worm-queen’s brood
>Go meditate with the Great One [specify if you bring anyone else from your retinue, such as the Bastard]; you have limited time left to spend with your brother, if you cannot think of a way to convince the Chaplain to let you bring him along
>Visit the library to read up on the gods—in particular, the Master of the Insightful Eye and the Serpent Ascendant, who you have heard of but have not yet directly encountered or studied
>Go speak with the Chaplain, to get ahead of reports of your recent disobedience, and to perhaps advocate for your elder brother’s liberation to join your expedition
>Write-in

>>5281550
For the record, I am not Scumbag Antipaladin's QM; I played that quest and enjoyed it, and it inspired the name of this one, but don't bank on my mirroring too many details from it.
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>>5281754
>Go speak with the Chaplain, to get ahead of reports of your recent disobedience, and to perhaps advocate for your elder brother’s liberation to join your expedition

Honestly with our diplomacy and reptilian empathy skills combined we might be able to convince the chaplain to let us liberate our brother for the expedition. I'd say that we should make him stay underground, though, and not do any of the surface parts unless there's an emergency.
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>>5281754
>Check in on the Novice and Glowie, and read the mysterious scroll of the Serpent priestess with the only two members of the retinue who are privy to the secret of the worm-queen’s brood
>Go speak with the Chaplain, to get ahead of reports of your recent disobedience, and to perhaps advocate for your elder brother’s liberation to join your expedition
>>
>>5281780
+1
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>>5281754
>Go speak with the Chaplain, to get ahead of reports of your recent disobedience, and to perhaps advocate for your elder brother’s liberation to join your expedition

>>5281563
>if you’ve read RIQ, you have the pieces to draw a certain interesting conclusion that may prove relevant
>if you are willing to indulge my curiosity on a lark
We're here to play the quest, not indulge your coomer metaspeculations. RQM specifically told you not to metagame.
>>
>>5281754
>Visit the library to read up on the gods—in particular, the Master of the Insightful Eye and the Serpent Ascendant, who you have heard of but have not yet directly encountered or studied
I'd wish the character to know more about ALL the dark gods, so we can pick who to AntiPaladin for
Give me my Antipaladin oath in my Antipaladin quest
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>>5281754
>Visit the library to read up on the gods—in particular, the Master of the Insightful Eye and the Serpent Ascendant, who you have heard of but have not yet directly encountered or studied
>>
>>5281754
>Go meditate with the Great One [specify if you bring anyone else from your retinue, such as the Bastard]; you have limited time left to spend with your brother, if you cannot think of a way to convince the Chaplain to let you bring him along
>>
>>5281754
>Go speak with the Chaplain, to get ahead of reports of your recent disobedience, and to perhaps advocate for your elder brother’s liberation to join your expedition
>>
>>5281754
>Go speak with the Chaplain, to get ahead of reports of your recent disobedience, and to perhaps advocate for your elder brother’s liberation to join your expedition
>>
>>5281754
>Go meditate with the Great One; you have limited time left to spend with your brother, if you cannot think of a way to convince the Chaplain to let you bring him along

>>5281794
If I was really metagaming, I would actually explain my theory. I noticed you didn’t say anything when >>5277513 spilled his the spaghetti on Death, how curious.
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>>5281754
>>Visit the library to read up on the gods—in particular, the Master of the Insightful Eye and the Serpent Ascendant, who you have heard of but have not yet directly encountered or studied
We should probably talk to that Chaplain but this sounds way more interesting.
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>>5282048
>>5282007
>>5281937
>>5281886
>>5281879
>>5281865
>>5281844
>>5281794
>>5281789
>>5281780
>>5281761

You know your inspiring pulpit -speech will not go unremarked upon to the Chaplain, particularly after giving such a rabble-rousing soliloquy in favour of a populist philosophy. There was even a Serpent Priestess present! Your superior will want to have words about this…

But then, you have words you wish to have with him, also.

A dragon does not wait to be summoned, as if cowering and awaiting the drop of the hangman's axe. A dragon takes the initiative himself! You march up to the Holy One's audience-room on your own impetus, head held high.

Your unrequested arrival, coupled with your imposingly-gaudy armour and your natural size and Presence, creates quite the impact. An attendant of the lesser castes holds you at bay while the Chaplain collects himself and finishes with other conferences. He needn’t worry—you are in no rush. A dragon is patient, when he must be.

Eventually, you are summoned into a room you have not been in before, adjunct to the ritualistic Star Chamber. Here, you see only a simple mural depicting a wide-horned, draconic figure, and above it a single, baleful eye wreathed as if a sun: The Baleful Beholder, and The Persecutor of the Weak. Despite being backed by gods-in-effigy and wielding the snake-staff of their conferred authority, you sense that the Chaplain is faintly anxious at your appearance.

“You wished to speak with me,” he says. “Is this about the… Event… In the common area, then?”

Damn, the shadowy operatives of the Serpent Priesthood DO move swiftly.

“Yes,” you say, “in part.”

Your eyes drift down to the centrepiece of the room: a single stone dais, at perfect height for a Reptilian to kneel before, with a divot in which to place one’s forehead. The grey stone is stained reddish-brown, but those who have Confessed, and been found wanting.

The Serpent Priest follows your gaze, and you meet his eyes briefly.

“There will be no need for that,” the Chaplain says. “Still, you must understand that what you did was wrong. Why else come to see me?”

“The retinue which I selected from their number will be effective,” you assert. “I approved only the best and most suitable.”

“Degenerates, and clanless mixed-bloods, and brand-scarred traitors and thieves?”

“Those desperate to earn redemption in blood and toil,” you assert.
>>
>>5282314
“The Novice Fleshweaver’s choices are more suitable, but do you not think more full-blooded and ennobled warriors would perform the same tasks better?” he asks, ignoring your counterpoint. “A being of low or tainted birth will produce only lesser works. This is dogma. This is truth.”

What do you say?
>Apologize, and allow the Chaplain to modify your retinue unilaterally… But make the case that the Great One is most noble of all, and so should come
>Confront him with what you know of your birth—what he already knows—and thus challenge his ideological purity; YOU are of low birth, and he put YOU in charge of the expedition, after all
>Tell him of his daughter’s theories about using Fleshweaving to ‘correct’ lesser or flawed Reptilians
>Use the Fearsome Presence to impose your will—there are going to be some CHANGES around here, going forward
>Write-in
>>
>>5282315
>Confront him with what you know of your birth—what he already knows—and thus challenge his ideological purity; YOU are of low birth, and he put YOU in charge of the expedition, after all
>Make the case that the Great One is most noble of all, and so should come if the Chaplain truly cares.
>>
>>5282315
I'm conflicted about what to choose here. Keeping the current people we have for the expedition and bringing along the Great One seem mutually exclusive. I really like people we have now, they're going to be extremely loyal and I'm guessing they're all very competent because of the near crit we rolled recruiting them. I guess I'll try to go for a happy medium where we sacrifice some of the expedition members in exchange for the great one.

>Apologize, and allow the Chaplain to modify your retinue partially… But make the case that the Great One is most noble of all, and so should come
>Offlimit members: Paeris(Magic User), The Bastard (Dragon Blooded), Oluwadamilare (Most loyal and I like his name)

Changing 4 of the 7 members picked should hopefully be good enough of a concession. If my vote doesn't get any traction I'll just switch to keeping all the members we have.
>>
>>5282331
+1
>>
>>5282315
>Use the Fearsome Presence to impose your will—there are going to be some CHANGES around here, going forward
I like our retinue, and I want to keep what we know to be a secret. If the Chaplain wants to add more proper blooded people to our troop, I’ll happily accept them, but diminishing our choices is out of the question.
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>>5282331
Support. Changing to this. People don't seem willing to give up any of the retinue members so I'll switch.
>>
Admitting we know of our low birth won’t end well, all we’d be doing is undermining our authority in his eyes by admitting we won’t play ball on ideological line. It’s better if we lean in to our supposed ignorance of our blood by acting as a proper Dragonborn should, and take our choices as sacrosanct because of our Dragonblooded status and the dogma supporting it.
>>
>>5282440
Fuck that. Ideology is for the masses with Realpolitik for the decision makers. If he knows that we know but we play along publicly anyway, then he either plays ball and continues to support us or he undermines his own stated position and looks like an idiot for nominating someone like us in the first place
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>>5282460
If the Master Race leadership was running on Realpolitik, we wouldn’t be on the verge of population collapse with the Dark Gods themselves trying to create an insurance policy on the Reptilian Conspiracy. This goes beyond playing ball with reality, the leadership will commit to dogma to the point of suicide, as the Bug Serpent Priestess shows us.
>>
>>5282315
>Tell him of his daughter’s theories about using Fleshweaving to ‘correct’ lesser or flawed Reptilians
>Apologize, and allow the Chaplain to modify your retinue unilaterally… But make the case that the Great One is most noble of all, and so should come
>>
>>5282496
I still disagree. The population collapse is stated to be the product of resource scarcity and a diminished breeding pool after having been driven from our prior holdings with mass casualties. Chaplain put a known degenerate in charge of a high profile foray to the surface, which is the kind of field expedient solution he wouldn't consider if the leadership was as suicidally dogmatic as you say and Realpolitik was that foreign a concept.
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>>5282519
You talking about us or the Infiltrator? Because we ain’t widely known, and the Infiltrator was specifically chosen because she didn’t need magic to infiltrate the Mages Tower, which all other Silkscales would’ve needed simply to blend in. Unique circumstances on the ground only proves he’s able to be pragmatic when forced to, not that he’s willing to if given the option.

Also, the collapse of the breeding pools and resource scarcity wouldn’t explain the growing infertility problem that the Master Race is experiencing.
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>>5282537
Collapse of the breeding pools would lead to inbreeding which definitely could cause fertility loss. Also the fact that he knows about our origin and put us in a leadership position even though our background conflicts with his publicly held ideas on serpentine racial purity shows enough lateral thinking for me to believe he'll back our play if we give lip service to his ideals while we acknowledge the reality of the situation behind closed doors.
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>>5282315
>Use the Fearsome Presence to impose your will—there are going to be some CHANGES around here, going forward
Just scare the fucker into submission, he’s already unnerved by our presence. A Dragon does not concede, he dictates.
>>
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[Six votes in, and a little close to call, with big ramifications going forward. I'll wait until tomorrow to post.]
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>>5282430
>>5282557
I switched my vote if you didn't see that BTW.
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>>5282559
[Ah, I did miss that. This changes things! Post incoming.]
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>>5282557
Confront & Great One are at 3 apiece
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>>5282544
No, inbreeding would be caused by dogmatically keeping the racial caste system active for a couple millennia, not the collapse of the breeding pools.

The fact that the Dragonborn it is in a leadership position probably has more to do with the Dark Gods’ interest in us and the Stars dictating it than his personal position on the matter. His first instinct when he knew about our existence was to break our egg and extract our genetic material, and it took some convincing and the Infiltrator’s massive mission success to overlook the fact of our poor blood, not his personal opinion on the matter, and it was highly likely that the Favor would’ve been used to convince him on the matter. The Chaplain is not a realpolitik reptilian, he’s a dogmatic priest of a race that’s falling out of favor by the very gods he worships.
>>
Rolled 2, 2, 4, 4 = 12 (4d20)

>>5282546
>>5282511
>>5282430
>>5282368
>>5282344
>>5282331
“Then lend me the use of my—of the Great Green Dragonborn.”

The Chaplain looks at you incredulously. “We went over this, did we not? The risk of exposure is too great.”

“I will keep him out of the mammalian eye, beneath the earth—”

“—as you travel through narrow corridors where he is of little use, where he can scarcely manoeuvre, flanked by elven rabble who could easily spread word of his existence?”

“They are outcast elves,” you say, substituting courage and conviction for a certainty of their nature that you lack—you cannot KNOW, of course, and the Novice had her own theories…

“It cannot be allowed,” the Chaplain says.

“But surely his nobleness of blood, his power and magnificence, it can only create GREAT works, worthy of the Great One?” you cajole, appealing to the Chaplain’s own stated ideology.

“Sometimes, the Grand Design requires that the greatest works be preceded by lesser ones,” the Chaplain admits, as if disappointed. “It is a gradual crawl, evolution in action—the rise of empires from dust must START with dust.”

“Then why—”

“BUT,” the Chaplain continues, “if one has better materials—if one has built up from dust and has developed a more suitable tool, a greater work… Why fall back upon rougher, less suitable tools? The Great One is not suitable for this task, but there are many MORE suitable than the… SHAMED Ones who you have selected, the fringe filth.”

You away, frustrated. Then, looking back, you meet the Holy One’s eyes.

“Is this the philosophy by which you created me?” you demand.

“…Please clarify,” he instructs, voice like the hiss of sand over stone in some Southern desert-tomb.

“I was born of a Degenerate,” you say, causing the Serpent Priest before you subtle startlement. “I learned of this in a divination—a vision. But you assigned me to lead this expedition despite this—even aided me in establishing myself by hiding my ignoble birth. Why? Am I the rough, unsuitable tool which is the only one currently at your disposable, in this dusty, yet-to-reform empire of ours?”

“Hold your tongue!” the Chaplain snaps.

You hold his gaze a moment, then slowly turn it downwards.

There is a long, awkward pause.
>>
>>5282567
Horsefeathers. If the castes individually had enough population and internal variety to sustain themselves there wouldn't have been enough inbreeding to curb the fertility rate. (look at India) And nobody's saying the Chaplain is scaly Kissinger, but he clearly knows the difference between what's preached to the people and what's actually happening.
>>
>>5282579
>4
“I did not create you,” the Chaplain spits, like venom. “If it were up to me, I would have destroyed you before your hatching.”

This… Stings a little to hear, from one who has largely lavished praise on you, been almost paternal.

“Then why did you not?” you almost whisper.

“Your mother invoked her success… Arguments for a plurality of thought, and for a divine mandate.”

You nods slowly.

“Who told you of the truth?” the Chaplain demands. “Truly?”

“The Dark Gods Below and Beyond,” you say, truthfully, for who else could have guided the vision? Where did you encounter Death, before your first proper communion?

“The Gods!” the Chaplain rasps, furious. “They see fit to bestow their gifts, their visions, on ANOTEHR Degenerate! WHY?!”

You resist the urge to blurt out that they have seemingly come to favour even ISNECTS over your once-proud Master Race. Is this where dogma has brought your noble people?

“I warned your mother that this would happen, you know,” the Chaplain says, calming himself. “Look at you—codependent with a mental defective, hastily slapped-together by an ape-woman with no notion of draconic majesty. And even HE is better-built than you, better-blooded! He is the scion of the Great Green Dragon—YOU are merely some superficial mockery, some hairy-headed PARODY of the Red Dragon King, with barely a drop of his blood in your veins and a head full of frivolous, MAMMALIAN attachments!”

You force yourself to remain stoic—to not rise to this male’s bait, just as you long ago learned not to react to his daughter’s baiting.

Instead, you say: “But it was my mother that fixed the human mage’s mistakes. So I also learned.”

“Yes,” the Chaplain admits. “She was… Uncommon in her talents, I will grant her that. It’s why I gave you a chance—why I still will. He TRUE Dragonborn will not hatch until towards the end of the next twelve-month cycle—when the Stars are Right. They will need time to be reared, to grow into their own. Until then… I have only this rough, unrefined, primitive tool before me…”

You narrow your eyes.

“…And with the Dark Gods as my witness and my judge, I will use it.”

“…So may I have the Great One’s aid, then?”
>>
>>5282586
>4
>2
>2

“No,” he states, calmly but without room for argumentation. “You may not. Now go from my sight, before I demand true Confession upon the stone.”

“I am not modifying my retinue,” you state plainly, stoic but defiant.

The Chaplain does not acknowledge your dissent, but nor does he contradict it, simply waving you away with a motion of his staff.

“You will live,” he says, “or you will die. There are newer tools nearly completed, and when they are done, you will be but a relic even if you survive. Until then, be useful.”

You leave the room, crestfallen and fuming, so that smoke rises from your nostrils. He dares? He DARES?!

…But then, of course he dares. You are not Dragon—not to him, not yet. But one day, that will change.

The day grows long, and there is not much time before your will depart—another day-and-a-half afterwards. You spend the remaining time:

>Meditating with your elder brother on the essence of dragoness, and enjoying the time together which remains
>Studying matters of fleshweaving with the Novice (and Glowie)
>Getting to know the intelligentsia recruited for your mission and something of their disciplines
>Sparring and practice individual and unit combat with your new recruits
>Learning more of the Dark Gods in the library, to better understand their roles and how you might gain their favour
>Practicing marksmanship with your bow, alone in the low-caverns, where you can be alone with your thoughts
>Growing your fame in the forward base and beyond with tales of daring do and displays of draconic might

[choose two, write-ins allowed but NOT mergers of multiple prompts into one unless you want to really half-ass them]
>>
>>5282587
>Meditating with your elder brother on the essence of dragoness, and enjoying the time together which remains (with The Bastard unless it's a debuff)

Man those are some unlucky rolls. A 4d20 and not a single roll over 10. Well I guess we should go spend some quality time with our brother while we can.
>>
>>5282592
Forgot the second choice. After what we've been told we need some time alone.

>Practicing marksmanship with your bow, alone in the low-caverns, where you can be alone with your thoughts
>>
>>5282587
>Meditating with your elder brother on the essence of dragoness, and enjoying the time together which remains
>Learning more of the Dark Gods in the library, to better understand their roles and how you might gain their favour
First is time-sensitive, second is better done sooner than later.
>>
>>5282587
>>Meditating with your elder brother on the essence of dragoness, and enjoying the time together which remains
>>Studying matters of fleshweaving with the Novice (and Glowie)
>>
>>5282587
>Learning more of the Dark Gods in the library, to better understand their roles and how you might gain their favour
>Growing your fame in the forward base and beyond with tales of daring do and displays of draconic might
Told ya this would happen.

>>5282580
But the caste don’t, and this is compounded by the vast distances and small living spaces of each enclave. We don’t have the large open spaces or population density of India, we have to deal with living like the Vault people in Fallout Universe for a millennia.

And clearly the Chaplain doesn’t, if his blood purity rant is any indication.
>>
>>5282587
>Meditating with your elder brother on the essence of dragoness, and enjoying the time together which remains
>Studying matters of fleshweaving with the Novice (and Glowie)
>>
>>5282587
Actually I'd rather go read that scroll. I've been wanting to do that since a few updates. Sorry Reptoid QM, I've always been a serial vote switcher.

>Meditating with your elder brother on the essence of dragoness, and enjoying the time together which remains (with The Bastard unless it's a debuff)
>Studying matters of fleshweaving with the Novice (and Glowie)
>>
>>5282598
I can't help but think he would have been more receptive to our argument had we not rolled absolutely shit dice.
>>
>>5282603
>the scroll
[Sorry, I meant to add an addendum on the end about that, and the totally forgot: you WILL be reading the scroll, given you didn't hand it off on multiple occasions. You'll also be at least briefly checking in on your troops, meeting the Novice's recruits briefly, seeing the Great One, checking on Glowie, etcetera no matter WHAT you do. Your two picks are just what you're FOCUSING on, what's occupying most of your time, effort, and is going to level up a stat, expand your abilities, and/or affect your reputation and roleplaying options later]
>>
>>5282587
>Practicing marksmanship with your bow, alone in the low-caverns, where you can be alone with your thoughts
>Getting to know the intelligentsia recruited for your mission and something of their disciplines
>>
>>5282604
[Yes. Or at least more willing to concede to a point or two, or to try and appease you -- not necessarily actually willing to change his mind completely.]
>>
>>5282605
I'll stick with the fleshweaving study even if it doesn't matter for the scroll, I see it as a social action along with a fleshweaving level up chance anyways.
>>
>>5282604
Not by much I wager. His arguments against using the Dragonborn were sound, this isn’t the right mission to bring him on. He won’t admit that he’s wrong over dogma though.

I do honestly wish we would’ve been more bold and used the Dragon material in our creation instead of shying away from conflict, the constant reminder of our barely Dragonblooded status is irritating in the extreme.

>>5282605
What about meeting with that Rookery Priestess? Is that still happening, or are we just going to ignore our questions relating to that whole affair?
>>
>>5282587
>Go to the Breeding Pits and work out some aggression
>Growing your fame in the forward base and beyond with tales of daring do and displays of draconic might
Who does this bitch think he is, calling us a defective mockery? Fuck this bitch, and fuck his puritan bullshit.
>>
>>5282587
>Practicing marksmanship with your bow, alone in the low-caverns, where you can be alone with your thoughts
>Learning more of the Dark Gods in the library, to better understand their roles and how you might gain their favour
>>
>>5282587
>Practicing marksmanship with your bow, alone in the low-caverns, where you can be alone with your thoughts
>Studying matters of fleshweaving with the Novice (and Glowie)
>>
>>5282587
>Practicing marksmanship with your bow, alone in the low-caverns, where you can be alone with your thoughts
>Getting to know the intelligentsia recruited for your mission and something of their disciplines
>>
>>5282587
>Getting to know the intelligentsia recruited for your mission and something of their disciplines
We got all these people, will any of them be a liability? Let's find out for ourselves before the expedition happens and we get locked into them
>Meditating with your elder brother on the essence of dragoness, and enjoying the time together which remains (with The Bastard unless it's a debuff)
>>
>>5282596
>>5282597
>>5282598
>>5282599
>>5282603
>>5282603
>>5282642
>>5282643
>>5282677
>>5282736
>>5282819
The meeting with the Chaplain left you wanting for better company, to say the least. Despite his criticisms, you know it is not mammalian weakness which leads you back to the chamber of the Great One, but draconic kinship… And, with the Chaplain adamantly against your bringing your brother, this is a kinship you must enjoy now, while you have the time.

The Green Dragonborn is somewhat saddened by the news, if not surprised—after all, you did not even tell him that you were planning to attempt to renegotiate the matter, so the last he had heard, you were to leave and he to remain. From his perspective, nothing has changed. He also seems stoic, rapidly moving on beyond the initial disappointment and happily joining you in conversation (such as it is) and meditation.

You allow yourself to drift into restfulness in your brother’s chamber that night, dreaming of wings, flame, freedom, and kingship.

When you awake, you regretfully part company—you still have other matters to attend to. You arrange for our full expeditionary forces (except Glowie, of course) to assemble before you. You expected the Pit-Guard and the Novice to butt heads, but the former’s natural deference to a Chaplain’s daughter heads this off, even as she reviews his forces with equal parts revulsion and fascination.

“You have crewed out quest with quite the menagerie of freaks, Dragonborn,” she says, pacing back and forth before them. “Bizarre! But certainly, I can understand SOME of your rationale. I am certain I will understand the rest in time, yes?”

She at least refrains from mentioning your own ‘freakishness’ directly, sensible enough to avoid undermining your authority TOO much (or exposing your secret). Her selections for the squad—The Cartographer, The Botanist, The Elf-Specialist, and The Translator—are quieter, but their disdain is more open. Just a you might have inferred from the way the Chaplain spoke of them yesterday, they are all high-born: the Elf-Specialist is a Serpent Priest, the others all Silkscales well-placed in their clan.

“Can you believe that we will be traveling for weeks, with NO other Reptilian company but THIS?” the Cartographer asks the Translator in whisper.

“I am used to no Reptilian company at all,” the Translator admits quietly. “Still… This is scarcely an upgrade.”

“The opportunity is worth it,” asserts the Elf-Specialist, as well you suppose he might.
>>
>>5282906

When the gathering and briefing is complete, you follow the Novice back to her quarters to discuss another matter—a matter which precludes the presence of Pit-Guard or the scholars, for Glowie is still there. You find her bundled up in a surface-fabric of some sort, bound by her own silk into a sort of wrapping. It looks… Goopy, and faintly glows, as with its new owner.

“Well I certainly do not want it returned,” the Novice grumbles. “How am I to clean such a thing?”

“Has the Novice been treating you well?” you ask Glowie, and she performs and exaggerated nod of her peculiar, lizard-mimicking ‘head’ segment.

“No strange experiments?” you ask, side-eyeing the Novice this time.

“No, I have in fact ‘obeyed’ the ‘glorious’ ‘Dragonborn’,” the Novice says, “to the detriment of our people’s understanding of your so-called siblings.”

“Good,” you say, easily brushing aside the criticism.

You settle in for a lesson in fleshweaving, but before you begin you set about something long-overdue: reading the salvaged scroll, taken from the cocooned Serpent priestess in the caverns below. You break the seal with a talon and pop it open, rolling it out upon the Novice’s wooden desk. She peers over your shoulder, obnoxiously invading your personal space with zero deference; Glowie, clearly pleased to have company other than the Novice, clings close to you on the other side. You grudgingly tolerate both for the sake of focusing on the writings:

“The Chaplain of the northernmost forward base has embarked upon an unorthodox endeavour of some ambition,” the scroll’s message reads. “The Dragonborn Project, as he calls it, is an effort to use Draconic and Dragonblooded blood and viscera, housed in Degenerate eggs emptied of their original contents, as raw materials to recreate the Great Green Dragon in miniature. However, the taint of human blood, and that of lesser reptiles, suggests an incomplete understanding of the portions of the Great Green Dragon which his agents have recovered, or damage to that material over time. The Great One was pure of blood, from a lineage created by the Dark Gods directly—perhaps, stripped of his vital soul, the blood requires such modifications to even function?”

You certainly hadn’t expected speculation on THIS topic to dominate the scroll’s contents!
>>
>>5282915
“Still,” the scroll continues, “this project bears promise. If you are reading this scroll, you have arrived at your destination, and you must by now understand the words I spoke to you before your departure. We are first, but not only… But also, perhaps not yet destined for extinction and replacement. You must tell the Queen to delay in her next move, to remain in place for now. However, if this Dragonborn matter comes to nothing, then she must be ready. She and her brood must be perfected. So speaks our Divine Mother. You are to use your skill, and your magic, to help guide and expedite their evolution. Cataclysm and fire are coming, and if we are not the race bequeathing it to the surface-worlders, then we will surely be consumed by it. The failure of the Dragonborn Project will be the signal for the Age of Insects to begin.”

You stare at the scroll, dumbfounded. You feel a weigh settling down upon you, of ages and of expectations. Your people’s fate, by the implications therein, is to be settled in a matter of… Decades? A century? One way or another, as champions of Darkness or as fallen and failed footsoldiers to be consumed by Glowie’s broodmother as raw materials for your replacements…


“No small amount of pressure,” the Novice sighs, with a gift for understatement.

[Continuing later. Sorry for the delay -- a longer post than intended, and I have limited time before work!]
>>
>>5282917
The reading of the scroll takes a lot out of you, distracting your focus. Eventually, your tutor grows frustrated with you and casts you out; you allow this, but insist she identify your potion, which you recovered during your explorations below.

“Do I LOOK like an apothecary?” she asks rhetorically.

“Do I look as if I care?” you ask. “Besides, you are always styling yourself an uncommon intellect. Is mere potion-analysis beyond you?”

She snatches the potion and sets to work, without further ado.

You spend much of the remainder of your time at the forward base—the only home you have ever known—in relative seclusion and concentration. You alternate between your own chamber, the Great One's, and the Novice's. With the Green Dragonborn, you initiate the Bastard into the meditative method by which you seek to achieve True Dragon status, awakening to instincts within. The Bastard seems skeptical, but he sticks with it. You judge him to be a few years your senior, but his evident social isolation and lower status makes him submissive to your will and eager to please, despite an undercurrent of bitterness and resentment for the existing order.

Well, it’s not as if you can’t empathize, right now.

As you and your fellow Dragon Shamans meditate, you reflect on what the Great One and Bastard have in common, physically and in what you sense in their spirit. You aren’t lacking in either area yourself—you are actually taller and better-muscled than the undernourished Bastard—but it is instructive to analyze what makes a dragon-by-blood.

It is in studying with the Novice later when you have a breakthrough. The two of you go over her tomes, with a great deal of snooty editorializing by the self-important young Fleshweaver; Glowie is a hovering presence, albeit a silent and unobtrusive one once you make it clear she cannot cling to you while you are practicing somatic magic. The Novice continues to focus on matters of superficial and external modification with you, at some point turning both of your attentions upon Glowie.

“I’m unsure by which internal structures this bug—”

“Glowie,” you interrupt, precipating an appreciative (?) pulse of light from the bug in question.

“…What internal structures GLOWIE uses to move and support her weight, but it is safe to say that the exoskeleton itself moults its outer layer to allow a larger, more supportive one to grow in as it develops.”

Glowie nods, confirming this.

“We Reptilians do likewise, of course, shedding our skin at each major development milestone until we reach our adult size and shape, when our dermis begins to flake off slowly and gradually instead. The modification of that outer layer can be best thought of as… The artificial induction by magic of such a metamorphosis—though most often a temporary one, which is shed away afterwards.”
>>
Rolled 18, 1, 5, 19, 17 = 60 (5d20)

>>5283191
“I never underwent any such full-body moulting,” you admit.

“Well, you ARE a mammalian hybrid, Apeborn One.”

The Novice means it as a slight, but provokes epiphany: you have not yet metamorphosed, not reached your final level of development. The heart of soul of you is aligned to Dragonkind… But your skin lacks the same roughness and bony ridges of the Green Dragonborn and the Bastard, just as your internal workings differ. While altering the latter is beyond your skill or the Novice’s, and could result in fatal failure…

“I have an idea,” you say abruptly.

When you tell the females of it, the Novice is almost frighteningly excited, rattling with maniacal laughter.

“Brilliant! If I didn’t know the meaty mammal-mind in which it originated, I would think it worthy of being my own idea!”

“Coming from so self-aggrandizing a Sister as you, NOVICE Fleshweaver, I will take this as highest compliment,” you say.

She thwaps you with her tail, but banter aside, you feel perhaps even more excited than her. She begins to work out the particulars of the spell, and you provide what input you can. In the process, you also gain a better understanding of the spellcraft involved.

+1 Biological Manipulation

It takes the better part of a day, and both of your combined efforts (Glowie watches, plainly fascinated). By the time you are ready to cast your new spell, you are almost vibrating with suppressed expectation.

The two of you begin the ritual, weaving the spell and chanting the incantation of your all-new, heretofore unknown magicks…

[2d20 for you, 3d20 for the Novice, results and next vote to be posted after work.]
>>
Rolled 20, 12 = 32 (2d20)

>>5283193
>>
Rolled 2, 20, 6 = 28 (3d20)

>>5283193
>>
>>5283216
>>5283237
>>
>>5283216
>>5283237
I might break your heart anons...
In these quest, it's RQM who do all the roles
>>
>>5283244
[My apologies if it was unclear, but I DID mention at >>5267316. Still... 2 twenties, from two different users?]

>>5283216
>>5283237

[I think I can make an exception... just this once, though, alright? Everyone, make a note!]
>>
>>5283369
My apologies RIQM, I appreciate you still taking them though, youre a real one and Im loving the storytelling
>>
>>5283193
>>5283216
>>5283237
>19
Almost immediately, you begin to feel... Strange. Itchy, and warm beneath your armour. A tingle begins, at first merely unpleasant and then painful, like the heat-rash you once developed after rashly and erroneously testing your (as it turned out PARTIAL) immunity to flame. The Novice and Glowie both watch intently as you squirm under their gaze.

“Is it working?” you ask through gritted teeth.

“I… Believe so,” the Novice says. “You're getting more coppery.”

Glowie strobes a little in… Alarm? Amusement? Who can say?

You resist the urge to fidget or scratch at yourself, even keeping your twitching rail still, spade-tip flat to the ground. Your face aches, your hands spasm, and you feel an increasing pressure in both.

“Quickly,” the Novice blurts out, “get out of your armour!”

You hear the alarm in her voice, and begin unbuckling the armour’s clasps. Ceremonial plate was not meant for quick removal, let alone without aid and while in great pain. Luckily, both of the females descend upon you and begin to help to strip it away (though Glowie is clearly confused by the apparti involved, and mostly useless). Unable to resist anymore, you begin to scratch at your body, feeling fire under your skin. It is then that you notice two things:

Your claws have grown larger, sharper, knuckles ridged and knobbed with thick, layered scales, and you have scratched away a whole layer of skin.

Unable to help yourself, you continue to gouge and rip away the upper layer of your body, flailing and thrashing. Both Serpent Priestess and Glowworm Princess back away, unable to offer further aid and afraid of being caught by your frantic claws and lashing tail. You roar as you shed your skin is great sloughs.

Finally, the pain subsides. In its place, you feel a refreshing cool. You stand up and… You feel taller, broader, albeit not by much. You look at your shadow, and see horns rising higher above your silhouette than you are used to. You feel tougher, more powerful, more… Draconic.

“By the Gods!”

The Novice is suddenly upon you, as if unable to help herself. Her clawed hands rove your body, feeling the roughened thickness of your new skin. She takes your hands in hers, examining the claws, tilts you head up and feels your chin—now spiked by a extended, bony crest, you gather. She fondles your horns, her body pressed against your nudity as she stands on her very talon-tips to reach them.

She yelps, as your body responds in kind, and looks down, before rapidly leaping back.

“…All that time at the breeding pits lately, and you still haven’t dealt with that hair trigger,” she notes dryly, though she still roams your body with her eyes.

“Perhaps I am simply not used to a Serpent Priestess so openly worshiping me,” you quip.
>>
>>5283562
Your eyes lock for a moment, before Glowie’s flashing luminescence catches both your eyes and you break the awkward silence.

“Yes, well…. I was merely admiring my work.”

“OUR work,” you correct the Novice.

“…Very well,” she concedes.

>20

You admire your reflection in the mirrored surface of some fleshweaver appartus of glass and steel. You really do look less like a hybrid and more like a full-blooded DRAGON, simply erect on its hind legs like a Reptilian… Well, and sadly still deficient in one key regard.

“No wings,” you note.

“No wings YET,” the Novice corrects you, with giddy confidence.

Eventually, as your arousal and excitement subside and you manage to meditate, the change in your outward form fades away, subsiding into you. You feel it just beneath the surface, though: a fundamental change within you, in body and spirit. You know that this transformation is a mere thought away.

>New spell: Improved Dragonshape (increases strength, toughness, and provides natural weapons which can penetrate non-magical armour; amplifies fearsome presence and allows it to affect non-Reptilians; provides total resistance to flame and partial resistance to all other damage types)

The Novice demands that you spend the rest of the evening ‘under monitoring and observation’. Your instinct is to refuse on principle, but it’s probably not a bad idea if you’re considering it more logically.

“And besides,” she points out, “we need to decide what to do about the worm-girl.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

Glowie dims under your gazes, as if concerned about the sudden attention after what she just witnesses your magic do to your own body.

“I have been thinking,” the Novice says, “but perhaps we could see about creating an Amulet fo Disguise compatible with her own biology.”

“How do you propose to do that?” you say. “You cannot even make one fully compatible with my own body, let alone something like Glowie.”

“I have a theory, especially after reading that scroll, that perhaps there is something more… Malleable to these creatures, so freshly created from mere glow-worms. Do not forget, the base creature itself is capable of remarkable metamorphosis into a moth.”

Glowie blinks rapidly, and wriggles backwards, cornering herself. You do not need Insectoid Empathy to know that she is displeased by the notion of such experimentation.
>>
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>>5283564

Do you spend the night here, allowing the Novice to poke and prod at your further?
>Yes, for the sake of safety and science
>Yes, that’s kind of hot
>No, to spite her
>No, because you want to pend you last night with your big bro

And what of Glowie?
>Aid the Novice in developing an Amulet of Disguise for her (chance of failure, will start your journey exhausted)
>No—direct her to sneak out of the forward base, and to meet your retinue in her natural form just outside of the settlement
>No, and attempt to disguise her by more mundane means

Is there anything else you need to attend to before leaving your home base for a month, or longer, with no home of easy or expedient return?
>Write-in if so

Sorry for the delayed post, but I hope completeness and length make up for it, and I hope it wasn't too rambly and tl;dr
>>
>>5283567
>Yes, for the sake of safety and science
>Yes, that’s kind of hot
in that order

>Aid the Novice in developing an Amulet of Disguise for her (chance of failure, will start your journey exhausted)
gonna make things much more convenient if we can pull this off
>>
>>5283567
>Yes, for the sake of safety and science
>Yes, that’s kind of hot

>Aid the Novice in developing an Amulet of Disguise for her (chance of failure, will start your journey exhausted)

Did we get any benefits from meditating with the Great One?
>>
>>5283567
>Yes, for the sake of safety and science
>Yes, that’s kind of hot

>Aid the Novice in developing an Amulet of Disguise for her (chance of failure, will start your journey exhausted)

>Find a Kobold to travel with.

Could be good for diplomacy and a possible infiltrator.
>>
>>5283573
>benefits of meditating
[It's why Dragonshape was your Fleshweaver spell, rather than something weaker and simpler like Barkskin.]
>>
>>5283567
>Yes, for the sake of safety and science
>Yes, that’s kind of hot

>Aid the Novice in developing an Amulet of Disguise for her (chance of failure, will start your journey exhausted)
>Fix the hair trigger with a trip to the Breeding Pits
Might as well be a refreshing exhaustion.
>>
>>5283567
>Yes, for the sake of safety and science
>Yes, that’s kind of hot
Don’t worry big bro, we’ll still spend time with ya tomorrow.
>Aid the Novice in developing an Amulet of Disguise for her (chance of failure, will start your journey exhausted)
This won’t hurt her, right?
>Support the write ins
>>
I'll support
>Find a Kobold to travel with.
but can we please not visit the breeding pits? We've already pissed off the chaplain royally I think any more disobedience before we leave would have big consequences.
>>
>>5283576
+1
>>
>>5283656
I would be more sympathetic to your position if anons didn’t already fuck up our relationship with him in the first place. My prediction? It ain’t gonna get better, and it won’t affect our professional relationship until the third Dragonborn hatches.
>>
Rolled 16, 5, 12, 15, 10 = 58 (5d20)

>>
>>5283659
>>5283656
>>5283651
>>5283636
>>5283576
>>5283573
>>5283572
>>5283691
“Very well,” you say, feigning a grudging acceptance of the offer. “I’ll remain here for the time being. Your proposal is a worthy one—Glowie would be well-served by such an amlet, and therefore our expedition.”

“Finally, some sense!” the Novice exclaims. “Or perhaps you’re just more biddable now that you’ve seen my genius in action.”

You don’t know about her genius, but as the Novice sets about rummaging around in her various supplies, you enjoy watching her tail and wide, egg-bearing hips in action. Did she always have those thick thighs? Damn, you really should have taken advantage of the breeding pits…

It takes some coercion and coaxing, but you are able to convince Glowie to let the Novice draw some of her blood—or the nearly-clear, faintly-green substance that passes for blood in her body. She shudders and recoils from you as you do so but, on impulse, you reach out and pat her ‘head’ segment. This seems to soothe the worm-princess slightly.

“Why do you coddle this creature?” the Novice asks quietly, when you are done.

“Jealous?” you reply.

She hisses softly in irritation, but troubles you no more. In truth… Well, Glowie seems a friend. Moreover, she seems a potentially useful ally, as do her people, be it as equals or (more plausible, and more agreeable) lesser. Why antagonize her? At least, this is the rationale you offer for letting her hold you hand for a time before you return to aiding the Novice in her work of chalk drawings, chants, and arcane gestures.

You two young mages reach a roadblock in your research when you come upon a particular problem with the creation of the Amulet: a suitable source of blood for the disguise to be forged from.

“Foolishness!” the Novice curses, glaring at you.

“Do not hold me responsible, my tutor. I am but a humble student.”

Still, the Novice simmers… Until, eventually, she rolls up her sleeve and shoves her arm out before you, thrusting a metal syringe out in her other hand.

“Mine will do,” she says, affecting a serious countenance at odds with her trembling.

Is she… Afraid of needles? THIS creature, so obsessed with the weaving of flesh, fearless sin the face of the Fearsome Presence? You resist the urge to laugh, only so you can hold the implement steady. You hold her arm firmly, allowing yourself to slide it up to her shoulder. She shivers, whether out of fear or revulsion or some other reason you cannot be sure…

But she averts her eyes and seems to calm, even as she must squeeze them shut when you draw the blood and bandage the incision.
>>
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Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>5283706
You inject the blood into a carved-and-notched engraving upon the arcane work-bench, augmented by chalk outline specifying the spell parameters. With chants and gestures of arcane might, you two work at directing the flow of blood into an emptied amulet at the centre. When the work is done, it is nearly the time at which you would normally awake and begin your day. You are tired beyond reason, and desperate for rest… But it is done, and you are proud to have done it.

>16

You allow the Novice to do the honours, if only so you can shut your eyes for a moment and take a moment of respite; the Novice, whether play-acting at toughness or genuinely too excited to feel the effects of fatigue, leaps at the opportunity. She places the amulet upon the worm-princess, pressing Glowie into a corner when she flinches away from the Reptilian female…
>DC 18 for exhaustion and novelty
>Partial success

…But as you open your eyes, and you and your co-creator of this amulet survey the result, you are less impressed than you were with your own transfiguration.

“Well… A single-source amulet IS often uncanny,” the Novice says.

“Making excuses for your failure?” you chide her.

“OUR failure,” she reminds you, “oh Participant One.”

You grunt a vague and noncommittal acknowledgement as Glowie cowers shyly. She resembles nothing more than a poor, wall-eyed mimic of the Novice herself, swaddled in fabric and silk and with slightly oblong proportions: her tail too long and thick, midsection too wide, neck stubby, face wide-set, muzzle squat and foreshortened. She could pass for a Reptilian this way… But not a well-bred one. She looks faintly deformed, dwarfish, and dumpy. As she steps forwards, she waddles awkwardly, and nearly trips over her own feet.

“What do we DO with it?” the Novice asks.
> “Forget it. We’ll fix the amulet later, but for now, let’s just introduce her as a bug-person servant.”
>“She is still easier to disguise this way than as a worm. Get her clothing, and make sure nobody looks too closely at her.”
>“It will do. Just tell everyone she is a pet invalid or defective—a handmaid and experiment-aide.”
>Write-in

[Rolling for kobold probabilities, chance of finding one 20%, higher is better. Continuing post.]
>>
>>5283712
>1
We find a nega-kobold?
>>
>>5283712
>“She is still easier to disguise this way than as a worm. Get her clothing, and make sure nobody looks too closely at her.”
>>
>>5283712
>nat 1
>that’s the strangest kobold I’ve ever seen
>…that’s a degenerate dwarf dragonborn
>…that would explain all the hair
>>
>>5283712
>“Forget it. We’ll fix the amulet later, but for now, let’s just introduce her as a bug-person servant.”
>>
>>5283712
>“She is still easier to disguise this way than as a worm. Get her clothing, and make sure nobody looks too closely at her.”

We’re going to fight a horde of angry kobolds now fucking nat 1
>>
>Nat 1

[I... Have an idea or two. Keep voting. This demands special dispensation. I'll post tomorrow.]
>>
>>5283712
>“She is still easier to disguise this way than as a worm. Get her clothing, and make sure nobody looks too closely at her.”
>>
>>5283712
Lol I see the natural 1 as a positive. Another mini adventure before we leave.

>“She is still easier to disguise this way than as a worm. Get her clothing, and make sure nobody looks too closely at her.”
>>
>>5283712
>“It will be difficult to explain away two of you. You'll have to wear heavy clothing and pretend to be someone else."
>>
>>5283712
>“She is still easier to disguise this way than as a worm. Get her clothing, and make sure nobody looks too closely at her.”
Go with the pet invalid story if she's uncovered.
>>
>>5283756
We can fix her disguise proper when we set up camp.
>>
>>5283712
>Write in
Could we add our own blood to the mix? It might be fun to poke at Novice and be like, "And thats what our hatchling would look like" in a teasing way of course
>>
>>5283769
>implying our hatchling wouldn’t look like the nega-kobold
>>
>>5283712
>“She is still easier to disguise this way than as a worm. Get her clothing, and make sure nobody looks too closely at her.”
>Turns out the kobold is an half-steeltalon fleshweave with what remained
>>
>>5283789
>not a halfling-silkscale hybrid
>>
>looks for kobold
>gets Dragonblooded midget
>>
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>>5283715
>>5283723
>>5283731
>>5283730
>>5283743
>>5283719
>>5283769
>>5283789
“She is still easier to disguise this way than as a worm. Get her clothing, and make sure nobody looks too closely at her.”

“And if they do?” the Novice presses. “Look at her—don’t you think this will raise some questions?”

Glowie opens her new mouth, but no sound emerges. She closes it again, and looks between the two of you, as if awaiting judgement.

“You’re right,” you sigh.

“Excellent! Then what I propose is—”

“She looks just like you, and it will be difficult to explain away two of you. You'll have to wear heavy clothing and pretend to be someone else."

The Novice seethes.

Having made your decision about Glowie, you pass the next hour-and-a-half in the Novice’s bed. You are used to a stone platform with a thin mat of pressed hide and fungus—something suitable to a Reptilian warrior. This Chaplain’s Daughter, by contrast, nestles among fabrics, into which you considerable bulk sinks, even unarmoured. While your own quarters are bare an utilitarian, free of distractions and perfect for spiritual and mental betterment through direct meditation, the Novice lives surrounded by little trophies, mementos, devices and distractions. It sets your hoarding instinct abuzz…

And this is even before your proximity to the female sharing this bed activates still OTHER instincts.

“Stop MOVING so much,” she commands, as if her own tail isn’t draped across your leg, her entirely-unclad rear resting against your hip.

“It’s your own fault,” you snap back, frustrated beyond belief.

“It is hardly my fault I am bedded with a furnace.”

“It is!” you protest. “YOU demanded I stay here!”

“I meant on the floor,” she says, “with the glow-worm.”

Glowie, who is indeed comfortably swaddled amongst her stolen ‘garb’ like a nest, looks up at the mention… And begins to luminesce again, brightening the room considerably to your dark-accustomed eyes. Both you and the Novice groan.

“That’s enough of this nonsense,” you sigh, getting up and donning your armour. “I am going for a walk.”

“To the breeding pits, oh most noble and proud Dragondick?” the Novice taunts, peering blearily through one sleepy eye.

You scoff. “And irritate your father yet further?”

“Wait, what did you do to upset the Chaplain?” the Novice asks, suddenly interested again.

“Nevermind,” you say, and leave.
>>
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>>5283965
You wander the tunnels. They are just as busy (nor not) regardless of the time of day in the world above, with every Reptilian keeping their own peculiar schedule. Reptilians bow their heads to you, or shy away—not uncommon since your growth spurt, but more pronounced now that you are clad in armour and reputation. As you stroll aimlessly, seeking rest, a notion occurs to you: perhaps you could find a kobold, a slave or servant in this place? They are common in the base itself, but you know some Reptilians from the middle-lands and western regions yet subjugate and breed small clans of captive slave-kobolds. Maybe they could lend insight into the ultimate targets of your expedition?

Eventually, you find a trader from that area, dealing in strange curios. You are light on coin after supplying your troops, and ill-relish the idea of spending Priesthood resources on glorified knick-knacks and ethnic art from some mammalian clan or another in the hills—meaningless frivolity. However, when you ask after a kobold cohort, the trader delights.

“A slave! Yes, I have just the thing for that!”

However, what he present you is… Well, there’s really only one way to describe it.

“That is not a kobold,” you say.

“Certainly, oh Dragonborn! It must be! What else COULD it be?”

You… Aren’t sure. It is ratlike in appearance, but with hints of what illustrations you have seen of ‘digs’ are well. You note a long, worm-like tail, the only scaly part of it. The rest of it looks as if it might have once been hairy—its skin resembles a Degenerate’s non-scaled patches—but as if some blotchy disease has caused it to fall out. Its eyes are bugged out, too large for the skull containing them, and milky as if half-blind. It limps at the end of its chain, and is clad in rags. It has small, nubby horns, but not like those of a Dragon or Dragonblooded Reptilian.

“You take me for a fool, Trader?” you glower.

“C-certainly not, Superior One!” he placates you. “This is an odd kobold, but a kobold! Or… Some kobold relative. I say again, what else can it be?”

The ‘kobold’ blinks at you. Well, it tries. It cannot fully close its eyelids. It makes a rattling chitter, as if beginning to speak up, only to catch a cuff from the trader.

“I don’t speak that devolved kobold patois,” the Trader says. “I am trying to teak it True Speech. As it is, though, it can follow basic commands, such as to fetch, or carry an object, or to kill small vermin.”

What do you do?
>Accept it, in exchange for money to be paid by the Priesthood
>Steal it, and dare the lying merchant to try to stop you [intimidate]
>Refuse to buy such a liability, and leave this place
>Slay merchant and ‘kobold’ for wasting your time
>Write-in
>>
>>5283967
>Accept it, in exchange for money to be paid by the Priesthood

How much inbreeding happened for that thing to be made? It's probably pretty useless but I think it'd serve nicely as a fleshweaving project/practice. If we can make that THING into a kobold we can make ourselves into a dragon.
>>
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>>5283967
>but with hints of what illustrations you have seen of ‘digs’ are well
*DOGS
[I meant dogs]
>>
>>5283967
>Accept it, in exchange for money to be paid by the Priesthood

I own chihuahua in real life now I want it in quest
>>
>>5283967
>Refuse to buy such a liability, and leave this place
we've got enough of a menagerie already
>>
>>5283967
>Accept it, in exchange for money to be paid by the Priesthood
>>
>>5283967
>Refuse to buy such a liability, and leave this place
fucking mercharlatans
>>
>>5283967
>Refuse to buy such a liability, and leave this place
>>
>>5283967
>Refuse to buy such a liability, and leave this place
Part of me wants to know where such a nature's mistake comes from though
>>
>>5283967
>Accept it, in exchange for money to be paid by the Priesthood
New pet!
>>
>>5283967
>Accept it in exchange for money to be paid by the priesthood
A perfect mascot to our ragtag group
I vote we name it as well, Novice will think its odd we keep naming things, but I feel like its in character
>>
>>5283982
>>5283998
>>5284055
>>5284272
>>5284281
Why don't we abandon the quest entirely and open a motherfucking zoo instead? We can call it: Gaggle of Abortions!And then we can "protect" that retarded maggot Glowie for "diplomacy" (UwU), before putting 1000 dragon-insects bastards in her white glistening ass (OWO) and getting dominated by cold mommy Novice, why not?
>>
>>5284447
[A suitable goal for an antipaladin, I suppose, but I admit that ai'd have to rework a lot of my plans.]
>>
>>5284447
I don’t want to buy the Dogbold, but I would find it hilarious if we called it the Novice’s first pet/slave before she became a Priestess proper.
>>
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>>5284447
Love yourself! I mean that with 100%, with 1000%!
>>
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Good idea anon, glowie would surely be a fantastic mother to our brood, and the influx of a combined species of dark god worshipping races would surely be a righteous path in their eyes
>>
>>5284565
Forgot to link your post teehee
>>5284447
>>
>>5283967
>>Accept it, in exchange for money to be paid by the Priesthood
Buy it and name it after the novice. Let her know how we really feel
>>
>>5284573
+1
based
>>
Make it Glowie's personal assistant. People will be too distracted by the dogbold's grotesqueness to notice how odd Glowie look.
>>
>>5284582
>>5284573
>>5284281
>>5284272
>>5284055
>>5283998
>>5283982
>>5284040
>>5284106
>>5284150
>>5284181
“…Very well,” you say, after some deliberation.

This THING is absolutely, one-hundred-percent NOT a kobold. That much is obvious. But what IS it? Your morbid curiosity wins out in the end. Besides, something about it is strangely endearing and, fi worse comes to worst, it will make fine experiment-fodder.

You take the creature’s chain, and use your other hand to scrawl your mark upon the chit that the merchant eagerly presents. Your authority offers you great leeway in what ‘supplies’ you can procure for the expedition, at the expense of the Serpent Priesthood—a peculiar slave and test-subject can easily be justified if you are asked to present your rationale. Or hidden among other sundries.

To half-walk, half-drag the ‘dogbold’ along. It follows loyally and obediently, you find, except when you take your eyes off of it, or give it any slack; at that time, it begins to claws at its iron collar, rubbing its scaleless neck raw against the metal in its attempts to squirm free. Only the gagging and hacking sounds give it away, and the sudden tension in the line. A firm yank redirects it, commanding its attention, but the moment you cease to pay attention it makes another escape attempt. You attempt to affect the Fearsome Presence but, outside of your Dragonshape, this has little to no effect on a non-reptile… And this so-called ‘kobold’ is NO reptile. It seems afeared regardless, you suppose.

Eventually, your reach your quarters. Out of curiosity, compassion, or both, you offer the bizarre beast a fragment of one of your rations. It wolfs it down rapidly and, for the first time, looks at you with something other than disoriented terror, its usual brachycephalic panting and wheezing replaced by a pitiful whine.

How will you command this thing’s loyalty?
>With food and headpats
>With a firm hand and a fierce discipline
>Foist it off on the Novice—it will be funny
>Beat it to near death and cage it
>Write-in

What do you name it?
>Name it after the Novice
>Noname
>Something else [write-in]
>>
>>5284681
>Foist it off on the Novice—it will be funny
>Secretly undermine the Novice’s authority by giving it food and headpats, with a firm hand and discipline when needed

>Name it after the Novice
This will be hilarious.
>>
>>5284681
>With food and headpats
>Mittens
>>
>>5284692
+1
>>
>>5284681
>Foist it off on the Novice—it will be funny
>Edwin

Don’t be too much of a dick
>>
>>5284713
Wait. Edwin is the perfect name.
>+1
>>
>>5284713
>>5284716
I mean, isn’t Novice’s surface name unpronounceable anyway? Would there be a way to shorten it to Edwin?
>>
>>5284692
Eh, I'll just +1 this too move things along. I really think the "secretly undermine" thing is overkill though.
>>
>>5284744
[She has no surface name, technically, never having been to the surface; she has her Reptilian name, which to a human would be unpronounceable and essentially pointless to spell out. Still: if hers is chosen, I will come up with an identifier to further the gag.]

>>5284746
[There's no need to change votes to move things along. I'm not posting for another couple hours regardless. I'm watching Stranger Things.]
>>
>>5284749
Ok disregard my last post then.
>>
>>5284746
O'contraire, I think it would be an amusing angle to subtly rib her over.

>>5284749
>Stranger Things
Which season?
>>
>>5284681
>With a firm hand and a fierce discipline

>>5284749
Never understood the appeal of Stranger Things. Every season is resolved by Eleven using her powers while she screams louder and longer than Goku unlocking the next level of super saiyan.
>>
>>5284793
The first season was great, all the other seasons started slipping in quality afterwards. The mystery/horror element works better when you’re dealing with the Unknown instead of rehashing the plot in the same universe.
>>
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>>5284810
>>5284793
[My dudes, this is the quest thread. /qtg/ is that way --> >>5272730 ]

No offence meant. Also, DBZ is pretty rad too, in moderation
>>
>>5284746
>>5284793
>>5284713
>>5284703
>>5284700
>>5284692
[Alright, calling it! Posting before bed. Incoming!]
>>
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>>5284841

You feed a larger morsel to the nameless not-kobold. It eats the second one with less gusto than the first. You note that its rearmost teeth are long, sharp, jagged affairs, while its front ones are flatter, almost (but not quite) rodentine. What IS this thing? More importantly, what are you going to do with it?

It’s then that a wicked idea strikes. The strange creature eyes you (insofar as its eyes can focus on ANYTHING) as you begin to laugh, nervously clutching its spoils.

You return to the Novice’s quarters with a spring in your step, working hard to stifle your amusement so that it does not explode forth. It’s she that catches you off-guard, however, rushing you.

“Titans’ Strength!” she exclaims giddily.

“…I do not understand,” you admit, taking a step back and lightly kicking the dogbold behind you, to prevent it rushing ahead of you and spoiling your surprise.

“The potion that I generously deigned to analyze for you, the one you uncovered in the underdark.”

You’d almost forgotten, but you don’t let it show. “Yes, right. It confers…?”

“Titans’ Strength!” the Novice repeats, gesturing to the bottle atop her desk.

Beside it is a small beaker, above a faintly-glowing crystal in a wire holder. The fluid, a subtly different shade than the original bottle next to it, bubbles and boils. The Novice explains, with eagerness and no shortage of pomposity what you are looking at: a reagent test, meant to determine by alchemical reaction what sort of magical or medical ingredients are in the potion.

“It took many tries, but I am persistent,” the Novice boasts. “Nearly as persistent as intelligent.”

“But nowhere near as persistent or intelligent as humble,” you mock, drawing a glare.

“The potion, when consumed, will confer the strength of a being five, maybe ten times your size and mass for a time!”

“How long?” you ask, picking up the bottle and looking at it with renewed respect.

The Novice hesitates, then admits: “I… Cannot say, not for certain. It depends on potency, age… Other factors I cannot test for. A minute? Ten? An hour, at most, but a half hour or less is more likely.”

Still, this is no mean thing.
>>
>>5284858
“Well, I have made a discovery of no less importance,” you declare, drawing curious looks from the Novice and Glowie alike.

“I sincerely doubt that,” the Novice huffs.

The worm-princess blinks enthusiastically, approaching cautiously.

This is when you yank the dogbold forward, pushing it towards the Novice while it shrink back, chittering and squealing. The Novice’s response is remarkably similar, though when her startlement wears off it is replaced by a revolted fascination, almost as when you presented her with Glowie.

“What is it?” she asks.

“It is NOT a kobold,” you say. “Beyond that, I do not know. I’ve been told it originates in the same region as the Bloodrise Mountains, or thereabouts… But I have reason to think the seller was dubious.”

“Why did you purchase this creature, then?” the Novice asks, as the dogbold cowers before her.

“You were lamenting a lack of friends,” you say, drawing another glare.

“Or maybe you have simply taken to adopting strays and monsters, like yourself,” she shoots back. “I note a distinct lack of normal and respectable companions in your OWN cohort. A False Dragonborn, with a False Kobold for a pet. I suppose you named THIS abomination, too?”

“I did,” you confirm, no lonegr holding back the smile as you share the name.

The Novice stares blankly for a moment, then stammers slightly: “B-but that’s my name.”

“Consider it a token and representation of my depth of feeling for you, Childhood Companion,” you say ironically, handing her the chain. “And it is not MY pet, but yours. The Junior Novice.”

“You go too far,” the Novice hisses, though she wrenches back on the chain when her namesake tries to take advantage of the chain in possession to flee.

“Take care,” you admonish her. “That’s an order from your Dragonborn Champion.”

“I hate you,” she grumbles. “I loathe and abhor your very substance.”

You laugh, and Glowie seems to strobe in tandem with your laughter.
>>
>>5284859
It isn’t long after your little jape that you four—Glowie well-swaddled and wearing her Amulet of Disguise, the Novice dragging the Junior Novice with a sullen resignation—join the rest of your away-force. They are assembled at the Pit-Guard’s instruction, though the Novices’ higher-born selections seem to resent it, and mill about without discipline in a way that the Pit-Guard is clearly hesitant to correct, for reasons of caste and clan-status. They ALL smarten up when you rriev in your full regalia, though Glowie and the Junior Novice draw looks.

“It is time,” you tell them. “We take the low roads, through our mother earth—through elven territory.”

The Degenerate called ‘Paeris’ and the Serpent Priest who specializes in elvenkind both show interest at this.

“These elves are cunning and devious creatures, but smaller, weaker, and simpler than their surface cousins,” you begin to explain.

“But they use poisons,” the Novice interrupts, “and cultivate insectoid and arachnid allies, of venomous nature. They see in dark as we do, we are told. We do not know their true force.”

You glare at her, silencing her—for now, and with obvious annoyance. She alone knows you lack the authority-of-birth to command a Serpent Priest, or even a Silkscale or Steeltalon.

“We will proceed regardless,” you state. “We are the Master Race. They are outcast elves.”

You pause, considering your next words. Will you engender caution, hesitant safety… Or encourage bold action, confidence, and project strength?
>Proceed with caution and wariness, avoiding conflict where possible
>Go boldly forth, banners high and purpose clear
>>
>>5284861
>Go boldly forth, banners high and purpose clear
>>
>>5284861
>Proceed with caution and wariness, avoiding conflict where possible

We choose primarily scouts for the makeup of our party so it'd be stupid to go boldly forth.
>>
>>5284869
NO BALLS
>>
>>5284861
>Proceed with caution and wariness, avoiding conflict where possible

we should get insects too make glowie talk to them
>>
>>5284861
>Proceed with caution and wariness, avoiding conflict where possible
>>
>>5284861
>Go boldly forth, banners high and purpose clear
>>
>>5284871
Do reptiles have balls?
>Proceed with caution and wariness, avoiding conflict where possible
>>
>>5284912
I forgot I already voted ignore this.
>>
>>5284912
>Reptilian balls
[Do with this what you will]
>>
>>5284916
Oh uh thanks for showing me it will help for later decisions

maybe
>>
>>5284916
Was this a part of your research for the quest?
>>
>>5284878
>>5284912
>>5284913
nice try, samefag
>>
>>5284956
I wasn’t trying to samefag, but I understand that why you think that. It looks bad given the circumstances. That’s all I’m going to say about this since I don’t want to clog up the thread with arguments.
>>
>>5284861
>Proceed with caution and wariness, avoiding conflict where possible
>>
Ok guys, I caught up with Reptilian infiltrator quest
I feel a little dead inside after the last update. Now, time to re-read that quest from start and actually understanding deeper implications of shit
>>
>>5284981
Based lorefag. Be sure to supply us all relevant details as this quest goes on.
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>5284966
>>5284889
>>5284878
>>5284869
>>5284893
>>5284864
“We will not tempt fate. We are a party rooted in pragmatism, and our ultimate objective lies in the foothills of the Bloodrise, beyond the elven territories. We are setting out to tame rebellious kobolds, not to feud with some elven brigands. Be smart! By stealthy! Be underhanded, as is our right as Reptilians! There is no great glory in slapping around apes, nor any strategic advantage in helping the surface-elves in disposing of their criminals.”

This draws laughs, cheers, and mockery of the elves. Paeris seems ambivalent, and the Elf-Specialist seems deeply annoyed and disappointed.

“Never fear,” you say to the latter, when the rest of your party has begun to gather their supplies and to set out for the passages downwards, “your skills will still be useful in avoiding the elf-apes, as well as dealing with them more directly should we prove unable to avoid them entirely.”

“As you say, Dragonborn,” the Self-Specialist acknowledges, though he is plainly unconvinced.

The Chaplain does not see off your expedition directly. Never having seen such a force depart, let alone been a part of one, you do not know if this is normal procedure, or if he has snubbed you. You choose to ignore it, and you and your troop descend into the deeper darkness below your own familiar realm once again. You take different turns than you did when last you were down here, with your elder brother, and soon you are officially outside of the world you knew.

Were it not for the maps you brought—and the Cartographer, and your better-traveled scouts—you would be hopelessly lost in a realm that is much like the one you have lived in all your life, yet different. The carved hallways give way to roughshod rock, and to increasingly narrow squeezes through geological strata. Your own considerable bulk catches and is occasionally wedged between edifices, such that you find yourself grateful not to have brought your brother after all—this would be no fun trip for the Great One, and to find passages suitable for him as well would have slowed down your single-file Reptilian caravan.

Still, you miss the Green Dragonborn more and more as you journey through the day. You catch yourself wishing you were back at home, meditating with him for an instant. You shake it off, chalking it up to your not-inconsiderable physical weariness. You scarcely experienced any rest at all last night, between manufacturing Glowie’s amulet and the late stroll which resulted in your purchase of the Junior Novice.
>>
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>>5285121
Towards the end of what your internal sense of time tells you must be at least an 8-hur, ceaseless march, you begin to fumble. You grow sloppy, uncoordinated with exhaustion, nearly losing your footing over a deep ravine above a now-dried underground riverbed, replete with alien-looking fungi plumbing the moisture still hidden within the softened and cracked stone there. Only the quick action of the Bastard—close at your side and eager to impress after the favour already showed to him—saves you from embarrassment and inglorious injury.

Perhaps it is time to rest?

You carry on a short while longer, looking for somewhere more suitable to rest than the narrow chasm-passage. The Botanist proves useful here, as does the South-Merchant—both concur, independently and in their own ways and for their own reasons, that lowering yourselves down to the fungal growths and following them to their place of greatest growth should yield a pleasant encampment—maybe even somewhere where you can restock your water-stores. You follow their advice, and come upon…

“What is this?” you ask.

“It’s… A grove!” the Botanist exclaims.

“Wait, an actual grove? A…. Surafce grove, underground?”

“Yes,” the Botanist gleefully explains, rushing forwards to pinch and stroke at the strange fungi-like things filling the high-roofed, wide, and lichen-filled cavern which your party now finds itself. “These are PLANTS!”

“But… How?” asks the South-Merchant. “A plant requires water, yes, but also sun.”

You peer closely at the strange not-fungi here, with their wide, thin, splayed-open caps and layers. They are reddish-green, dim and dull as most colours appear in absolute darkness even to your Darkvision. You can see their mycelium—their ‘roots’, you are corrected when you point them out—trailing down to the wide, shallow stream which winds its way through this place, carving it wider bit by bit over geologic time. Certainly you see no sunlight, though—not unless the nature of sunlight ahs been grossly misrepresented to you.

“Perhaps these plants have evolved to thrive on geothermal energy instead?” the Botanist hypothesizes. “I would dearly like to take samples here, for study. My profession ahs long sought a way to bring the surface’s cultivated plantlife down belowground, for purposes of growing medicinal herbs found above!”

“I do not trust a plant which grows without sunlight,” the South-Merchant says. “We should refill our water here, at this… Oasis, of sorts... Then press on.”

Both look expectantly to you.

Your muscles ache, your head pounds, your eyes fight to shut themselves even now… But you are Dragonborn (or at least, you grow worthier of that title each day), and you could force yourself to continue until you find somewhere else to rest.

What do you do?
>Rest here
>Keep moving
>Stay here a short while with the Botanist and one or two others, while your scouts advance to find accommodation further ahead
>>
>>5285141
>Rest here

We tired and botanist can research
>>
>>5285141
>Stay here a short while with the Botanist and one or two others, while your scouts advance to find accommodation further ahead
Let the botanist research while acknowledgin Merchant concent.
>>
>>5285141
>Rest here

Splitting our forces just leaves us vulnerable for attack. If trouble comes from resting here it's best to deal with it as a group. It's also a good chance to get to know our expedition members, we opted out from getting to know them earlier in favor of other things.
>>
>>5285141
>Stay here a short while, inspect plants with botanist
inb4 death in sleep
>>
>>5285141
>Rest here
Merchants are cowards, big surprise
Think I'll trust the botanist on this one bud
>>
>>5285147
>>5285153
>>5285155
>>5285303
>>5285426
“We will rest here,” you announce.

The South-Merchant says nothing, but bows his head. The Botanist lavishes you with praise, then sets about his self-appointed task of gathering samples.

“Amazing,” the Novice says, as she and Glowie steps closer to you. “An underground… What did the South-Merchant call it, an oasis?”

The other members of your party meanwhile setting up camp or establishing a watch. Glowie subtly leans into you—you made it clear to her that there would eb no hand-holding during the expedition proper, but even in her Reptilian guise she seems to miss the constant physical (and psychic?) proximity of her mother and siblings. You have no idea why she has fixated you, however, except perhaps by default as the first non-bug she has met.

“One freak appreciates another,” the Novice quips when you point it out. She at least ahs the decorum to keep her voice down.

“Speaking of a pair of freaks,” you say, “how is the Namesake, Novice?”

The Novice hisses, and hauls the creature forward so you can see for yourself. It looks about as winded as you feel. Best to rest now for a couple reasons, then.

You settle into the grove, leaning against one of the larger plants. It shifts under your wait, provoking you to sit suddenly upright and to reach or your blade… But upon closer inspection, it seems to have simply buckled a little under the weight of your powerful build and your armour. Likewise, the shifting of leaf-fronds is dismissed as an underground air-current—not uncommon, where deep-earth heat and water-born cool interact, you are told. The breeze carries a faint, but not unpleasant, odour from the plants, and a light dusting of pollen.

What do you do during this rest, at the end of your first day’s journey?
>Sleep—just sleep. You need it.
>Get to know some of your retinue a bit better [select who]
>Meditate on the nature of dragoness with the Bastard
>Get in some overdue swordsmanship or marksmanship practice with the men [select which]
>Practice Fleshweaving or Divination [select which]
>Write-in
>>
>>5285469
>Sleep—just sleep. You need it.
Definitely uh caution whoever takes watch to make sure we don't 1/1000000 chance get venus flytrapped
though the botanist would probably notice, he's an expert and is gonna be taking samples
>>
>>5285517
+1

>>5284981
Enlighten us please
>>
>>5285469
>Sleep—just sleep. You need it.
>>
>>5285469
>Sleep—just sleep. You need it.
>>
>>5285469
>Sleep—just sleep. You need it.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (63 KB, 781x391)
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Rolled 3, 18, 10 = 31 (3d20)

>>5285517
>>5285536
>>5285580
>>5285613
>>5285617
You have a lot of different tasks to attend to, but this is a long journey—a week or two in each direction, you were told. You will have time. For now, you need your rest. You instruct the Novice to keep an eye on Glowie and on her namesake, while the Pit-Guard continues to de facto manage your more martial forces. You shut your eyes, and allow torpor to take you swiftly, in spite of the excitement inherent to your very first TRUE adventure, beyond your known world.

But this is NOT your world. These are NOT your familiar halls, worn by generations of clawed feet. This is a land beyond…

And you are not safe.

You awake to screaming, and to the sounds of battle. You open your eyes and see… Well, it takes you a moment to understand what it is you’re seeing. The plants—the wide-leafed, thick-trunked ones… They have uprooted themselves, and are traveling on stubby legs, lashing at your forces with tendrils—vines. However, your forces are by and large not fighting back against them… But flailing wildly in the mist of one another, or even battling with each other, faces gaunt with terror and eyes wide with madness. You start to stand, to draw your blade and to cry out to them, when you feel resistance, and are abruptly wrenched back down by the same forces—by the plant which you had been using as a pillow.
>>
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>>5285697
>18
You wrench yourself free, narrowly avoiding a sudden explosion of… Stuff. The plant ejects a small bomb-blast of sticky powder, which further explodes and disperses into a cloud on impact with the cave-floor where your head had just been. You draw your sword and hack into it repeatedly, lopping away leaves and vines and chopping violently into the pulpy midsection before it can try again.

It doesn’t take a botanist to understand what ahs happened: these plants are ambush predators, and their spores are mid-affecting in some way. They have driven many of your warriors to hallucination and madness. You look around and see that your right-minded warriors are engaged in protecting the more non-combatant members of your party—the North-Merchant, the Cartographer, the Translator and Elf-Specialist, the Novice and Glowie. Protecting them are the Thief, the Pit-Guard, and his Apprentice.

Trapped in madness and mutually-destructive melee with one another are the Degenerates Paeris and Oluwadamilare, and the Bastard. The South-Merchant is being set upon lethargically by two of the hostile plant-beings, while he can only roar and hiss defiance against the spectres of his addled mind, lashing out with a dagger at nothing in particular.

The Botanist, who surely had been closest to these alien beings when they chose to make their move, is hopelessly entangled by one, screaming for help but seemingly in his right mind.

What do you do?
>Flank with your remaining forces who are free and sane to battle back the plant monsters assailing them—once you have regrouped, you can see about saving the others
>Attempt to use your Fearsome Presence to overpower the madness, asserting your own will and command over the affected Reptilians
>Free the Botanist and South Merchant with your blade—they are in the most immediate danger, and the Botanist is probably best-suited to advise you on how to overcome these plant-monsters
>Plants are flammable, and you have dragonfire; burn them all to cinder, clearing the air of pollen in the process, and hope your forces can save themselves or survive
>Assume Dragonshape and go one-man-army on these abominations, at the risk of expending a great deal of your mana until your next long rest
[choose as many as you want, but combining prompts may limit effectiveness and/or increase DCs if I deem you to be spread too thin; write-ins permitted, same caveats apply]
>>
>>5285709
>Attempt to use your Fearsome Presence to overpower the madness, asserting your own will and command over the affected Reptilians
>Free the Botanist and South Merchant with your blade—they are in the most immediate danger, and the Botanist is probably best-suited to advise you on how to overcome these plant-monsters
Time to kick ass.
>>
>>5285716
+1
>>
>>5285716
+1
Worst case we turn around and recruit some more mooks, I guess.
>>
>>5285709
>Attempt to use your Fearsome Presence to overpower the madness, asserting your own will and command over the affected Reptilians
The Chad aura
also god damnit botanist
way to let us down
>>
>>5285716
+1
>>
>>5285709
>Attempt to use your Fearsome Presence to overpower the madness, asserting your own will and command over the affected Reptilians
>Free the Botanist and South Merchant with your blade—they are in the most immediate danger, and the Botanist is probably best-suited to advise you on how to overcome these plant-monsters
>>
Rolled 4, 18, 17, 8, 10, 20 = 77 (6d20)

>>5285716
>>5285736
>>5285743
>>5285767
>>5285812
>>5285814
[We have a clear preference, so I'm going ahead and writing! 3d20 Reptilian Empathy (DC 16), 2d20 Melee Combat (DC 16 if the first check fails, DC 10 if it succeeds and you have back-up), 1d20 for environmental and enemy variables (lower is better)]
>>
>>5285825
At least we succeeded at all the checks. That 20 on the environmental and enemy variables does not look good, though.
>>
>>5285825
These vile and base organisms seek to control the Master Race? It is unthinkable… And you an aspirant to the spiritual state of a Lizard King, you will NOT have your first command wrenched away from you by some uppity surface-mushrooms! You take a deep breath, focus yourself, straighten your back and lift your chin…

And you roar.

>18

The sound echoes through the chamber, drawing all eyes. The plant-things don’t seem to hear it, or at least do not respond, but every Reptilian in the chamber feels it deep in their bones—you feel THEM feeling it. You may be no true dragon in blood, but you have spent your entire young life meditating with the closest living heir to one, understanding what it MEANS to be a True Dragon—the next best thing to a Dark God. Every one of your race knows what that roar means, deep in their soul:

OBEY ME.

DESTROY THEM.

NO SURVIVORS.

A second roar goes up, staggered and confused, but even the Novice (the damned contrarian brat that she is) cannot help but join the cry. Glowie is confused; the false kobold is panicked and chewing frantically on its chain. Every other member of your force takes up blades, bows, maces, and magic as their aptitudes dictate and sets to work. Even the pollen madness is no might for the Presence.

>10

You are no polished and practiced fighting force, even so. The roar was no subtle command, and over the din of battle it is difficult to coordinate and rally forces. Still, as you point your blade ahead and charge to liberate the Botanist, the Thief and the Bastard are quickly at your side—the two swiftest of your retinue who are not otherwise occupied battling closer opponents. Together, you shop and slash at the vines and, in shrot order, liberate your botanical expert.

“I must say,” you half-joke, “I am somewhat disappointed in your performance thus far, Botanist.”

“I… I could not have known! I have never seen this species—”

“Enough,” you interrupt, holding up a hand. “There will be time to forgive or punish later. For now, what do we do to stop them?”

“Do NOT breathe flame,” he tells you urgently.

Well… Good to know, but why not?

“They are filled with a hallucinogenic sap and pollen mixture—their means of reproduction, I suspect, for there are seed-pods embedded therein. I popped one open in my search for samples, which is what prompted the rest to make their move, I infer. They must be fruiting bodies only, with a very basic life support system, while the roots are the main body. They are more akin to—”

“In plain True Speech, and with greater expediency!” the Bastard roars, to the Thief’s quiet nod.

“Y-yes, well… They exist to find or trap organisms, and to deposit their payload, but their tissues are fibrous and…”
>>
>>5285851
The academic’s continued ramblings wither beneath your gaze, but you have the gist. Fibrous tissues, a payload of hallucinogens and embryos, and open flame… An explosion, that would poison your mind and body.

You direct the Botanist to join your other allies in their defensive ring, while you, Bastard, Thief, and now the two Degenerates all charge at the main force of plant-monsters which seem to have been corralled around the isolated and utterly-entangled South-Merchant. You shout a command: the others are to engage the main force and to cover you, while with a quick leap, you vault and tumble past the majority of the enemy force and into their centre. There, with another battle-cry you chop, and hack, and slash until the South-Merchant is free.

“Thank you!” he gasps. “I thank you, Dragonborn!”

“I had no desire to return home to recruit another of you so soon,” you quip, through though you are winded.

The South-Merchant may have been brought on for reasons other than martial dash, but he has two knives with which he acquits himself well. Before long, you and your forces are dominating the vegetative menace which, which they outnumber you vastly, are slow, sluggish, and demonstrate no strategic coordination. You have them on the ropes…

>20

When you make a terrible mistake, thrusting a blade into one that—a moment too late, just a moment!—you realize looks more swollen and bulbous than the others. Perhaps, if what the Botanist theorized was true, it was an overripe fruiting body, full to bursting with spores. Whatever the case, it splatters you with stick pollen and gaseous dispersal. Before you can help yourself, you gasp in surprise… And inhale some.

From that point on, everything is a haze. You are blind, deaf, dumb, and yet… Not. You are surrounded on all sides by enemies, by mammals or plants or glowworms or WORSE. You roar again and swing your blade, but the damned and hated foes evade, avoid, dip and dodge out of the way of your righteous execution. You take a deep breath, ready to immolate the lot of them with firebreath…

When, properly this time, it all goes dark.
>>
>>5285854
You awake with a splitting headache, in a darkness that takes a moment to part before your Darkvision. You find yourself in a cavern much like any other, but… Well, it definitely has no plant-life, that’s for sure. There is something warm beneath your head, and soft, but not moss. You reach out, feeling the sensation of fabric and, beneath it, the soft pliability of strong thighs in repose. The Novice?

You look up and instead see the curious, concerned visage of Glowie’s Reptilian disguise.

“Ah,” you say. “I’d thought…”

“As if I would perform such a denigrating task for a Degenerate,” the Novice says, from the other side of the you. She is fiddling with a small, rudimentary-but-portable version of the alchemist’s kit that she had been making use of to analyze the strength-potion in her quarters back home, not looking directly at you. The Junior Novice is chained to a rock beside her, chewing on a tough piece of…

“Is that one of the plants’ stalks?” you murmur, uncertain.

“Harmless, now,” the Novice assures you. “The Botanist’s sample collections should prove useful, I’ve been told… And, based on my own analysis, I’m inclined to agree. A madness-poison could be produced, I think, and an antidote to same. Give me time—it has only been a half-day since you heroically leapt into a violent seizure and forced the Steeltalons to wrestle you into submission and knock you unconscious.

Well, that explains the persistent headache.

You are disoriented, but as your senses and your sense-of-self return, you understand what must have happened. You were overtaken by plant-madness, lost to it, and moved. A terrible thought strikes you as you remember your last waking moment, though: how many of your retinue did you engulf in dragonfire or hack apart with your sword in the meantime, before you could be restrained?

“None,” the Novice says. “Amazingly, your pack of outcasts performed quite well, even against your overgrown artificial self, oh Champion.”

You glare at her, but when you meet her eyes, you see… A distinct lack of malice. Maybe even relief?

You sit up, rubbing your head and replacing your helm. Glowie shuffles closer, leaning into you. You don’t push her away immediately, letting her take her comfort while the Novice fills you in. Your party carried you to safety in a nearby caver, a short while down but far away from water—better to avoid any more unusual organisms while you recovered. It’s been quiet since, though watch has been maintained vigilantly against any more such surprises.
>>
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>>5285867

What do you do?
>Go sup with the men, congratulating them on a job well-done [specify anyone you offer special commendation to]
>Lambaste the Botaist publicly for incompetence [specify if you lay into anyone else]
>Get to know some of the men better [specify who]
>Meditate on the nature of dragoness with the Bastard
>Practice Fleshweaving or Divination [select which]
>Continue on immediately—your rations are not limitless, and you have lost precious time
>Write-in

(You also feel a bit more confident with a blade)
>+1 Swordsmanship
>>
>>5285877

>Go sup with the men, congratulating them on a job well-done [Commend The Thief]

>Meditate on the nature of dragoness with the Bastard

>Get to know some of the men better [The Bastard and Paeris]

The Thief both protected the non-combatants and helped us free the botanist he should be commended. I would also like to get to know The Bastard better since he’s dragon-blooded and we’ve been meditating with him for a while. Also Paeris since there has to be story behind his music magic and he seems like someone with a backstory.
>>
>>5285884
+1
>>
>>5285884
I like your post, though dragoness meditation with the Bastard might be a bit too much to do right now, especially in the wake of that fiasco. I say we also talk about the following:
>Botanist fucked up bad triggering all the plants to start fighting, but honestly how else was he supposed to do his job?
>Botanist also helped obtain valuable ingredients and new knowledge from the plants afterward, which is a decent boon to our race provided we live to bring it back home
>this whole plant camp, based on the Botanist's discoveries and the evidence thus far, was a (ticking time bomb) delayed combustion waiting to happen- and if it wasn't us on the receiving end, it could have been anybody else like some other Reptilian scouting party or group foray in the future
>this entire event could have turned far FAR worse than it had, and we're lucky everybody survived none the worse for wear
>ultimately, South-Merchant was absolutely correct, let's not let that go unadmitted here
Any good way to trim all that down? I don't wanna talk their ear off so hard. What do you guys think about this?
>>
>>5285892
I mainly added the meditation to check if we get the same benefits from it even if we're not meditating with The Great One and the meditation kind of goes hand in hand with getting to know him better.

I'll +1 your ideas about what to talk about if the QM thinks they can fit it all in.
>>
>>5285892
>>5285884
Supporting the social parts.
However, instead of meditation...
>Practice Divination
This could give us a edge on the dangers we will met forward.
>>
>>5285877
>Go sup with the men, congratulating them on a job well-done [Commend The Thief]
>Meditate on the nature of dragoness with the Bastard
>Practice Divination
>>
>>5285917
+1
>>
>>5285892
Looks good. +1
>>
>>5285884
+1 this too
>>
>>5286073
>>5286072
>>5285993
>>5285961
>>5285917
>>5285900
>>5285892
>>5285890
>>5285884
Your stomach rumbles mightily, not having eastern for well over a day. A Reptilian metabolism is slower than a mammal’s, not requiring constant nourishment especially while at repose… But yours, yours is less efficient than most. You’d always chalked this up to your size and to your internal flame, but… Well, perhaps your Degeneracy is responsible? Whatever the case, until you address this, you can scarcely think about anything else.

You join your men, who, save for those on watch, have formed a pair of loose circles: the academics on one side, the lower-born recruits on the other, more or less; the Merchants have joined the intellectual set, while the Degenerates—Paeris and Oluwadamilare—are part of neither circle, but hover at the edge of the ‘lesser’ one.

“You all carried yourselves excellently,” you say after a time, when the gnawing pit within has calmed its gnashing-of-teeth and allowed your pounding headache to be alone in its misery.

All eyes are immediately on you, from all three ‘circles’. Even the Novice and Glowie, across the cavern, turn to listen in, though the Novice continues to multitask disrespectfully.

“Though it must be said that we would all have been wiser to heed the South-Merchant’s warnings,” you begin, pointedly looking to the Botanist while acknowledging your own role in the judgement call, “it could have gone far worse. We identified and culled an enemy to our people, after all! No Reptilian traveling this way will ever fall ignorantly into the clutches of the madness-plants. Better yet, I have been told that we expect alchemical advances to result from this encounter—is that correct?”

The Botanist concurs, nodding and beginning to rattle off some long-winded explanation of how studies of root samples may help fertilize compatible surface-plants with water and flesh-based fertilizer; you’re honestly only half-listening, as you are still eating, and the madness-poison is more militarily-applicable. Still, it sounds promising!

“While we will need to exercise greater conscientiousness in the future,” you conclude, when the Botanist is done, “we have done well this day! In particular, I think that the Thief must be acknowledged, for his role in both protecting our most-knowledgeable and most-vulnerable expedition-members AND in helping to free the Botanist from the plants.”

A rattling agreement rises from everyone, even the begrudging elite-circle. The Thief bows his brand-scarred head low in respect and gratitude.
>>
>>5286324
When your belly is truly full, you signal for the Bastard and Paeris to join you, apart from the others.

You see a few others’ eyes follow them—especially the Bastard—with a certain amount of curiosity, envy, or resentment. After all, this dinner of dried and cured meats and water is the first moment of camaraderie that you have taken with any of your other allies, save the females. Meanwhile, the Bastard has been your companion in private meditation. Reptilians have no qualms with favouritism, but your people would always prefer it be bestowed upon THEM than another, and to see it instead bestowed on a clanless Mixed One is inherently insulting to those of a certain breeding and status.

“You called, Superior One?” the Bastard asks, himself eyeing Paeris’ accompaniment with a certain amount of suspicion and confusion.

“How may we serve, Dragonborn?” Paeris asks, no less confused.

The elven Degenerate is thin, angular, with a smoothness of skin and pointedness of ear, and an almost-uncanny symmetry of features and grace of movement, all said to be characteristic to his mammalian parent race.

You address Paeris first: “You seem like one with a story to tell—the elf-blood, the music-magic you spoke of. We will be encountering elves soon. I would hear this story.”

Paeris’ eyes flit up to meet yours for a moment in surprise at your interest, before he again casts them properly down.

“I was a Reptilian Infiltrator,” he says. “I infiltrated Iternagreyn, the mystical and government capitol of an elven magocracy. To this end, I cultivated the false identity of a traveling ‘forest elf’, a trader and entertainer. It allowed me to explain a certain degree of foreignness, and unfamiliarity with their customs, as well as excused unexplained absences. However, traveling elves of this sort are known to be bards—players-of-instruments, singers-of-songs. Thus I, too, learned this art.”

“And the magic?” you press. “I recall… During the battle, though I could not always hear it over the sounds of combat, your song carried a certain… Sensation.”

“’Bardic inspiration’, it is called, “ he explains. “The elves of the surface weave their magic and music together, in fact seem to imbue their every mundane action or expression with SOME small amount of magic. It is intrinsic to them. I… Suppose I inherited this ability, from my inferior breeding. This latent ability awoke when I took up the harp.”

“Interesting,” you murmur. “Play for us, Degenerate, while we meditate.”

Paeris is taken aback, but agrees quickly and without question. He quietly strums his harp and hums rhythmically as you and the Bastard settle in for your usual meditation.
>>
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Rolled 8, 1, 5, 4 = 18 (4d20)

>>5286350
“You have a story, too, I would guess?” you ask the Bastard.

“My title is my story,” the Bastard says bitterly, belatedly appending the hurried honorific, “oh Superior One.”

In many ways, you suppose that the nickname of ‘Bastard’, and his obvious mixed heritage, does indeed tell the tale. There is no true ‘marriage’ among Reptilians. Harems or exclusive breeding rights are bought or commanded by some, or enforced by a clan-leader or Serpent Priest for reasons of familial alliance or eugenics, but there is no romance, no love, and no expectation of exclusivity from the superior party in such an arrangement, and they may be broken when required without controversy. To be a ‘bastard’ does not denote birth outside of such a union, but rather an undesirable, unauthorized breeding by a ‘kept’ female with another, especially one from a different subrace or of much lower breeding.

“How did your parents come to such a state, as to produce you?” you ask, conscious of your own mysterious paternity.

“They met in a breeding pit,” the Bastard says. “My Steeltalon mother was in season, her master attending to other matters far from where they were based. She snuck away, and by some guile managed to convince a higher-born Dragonblooded One to rut with her.”

You nod. You’ve heard that even a small amount of dragon’s blood makes such males incredibly desirable to females in estrus, by social convention or by the same instinctive that results in your Fearsome Presence.

“The rest is a history of being cast out, fending for myself, proving myself, and getting by without clan,” the Bastard says. “It has made me strong. Resourceful. Not… Always honourable.”

There but for the grace of the Dark Gods go you, you suppose: a Reptilian without clan, without even the ability to serve as Infiltrator. You can infer what he refers to at the last: mercenary work, assassinations and intimidations, excused as the various clans and families jockey for power. An unaffiliated Reptilian makes for a useful pawn in such politics.

Without further conversation, the two of you turn your attentions inward. Paeris’ music is surprisingly helpful in attuning to your inner self, to your soul, as if the humming and strumming of the fine fingers of your half-elven bard have brought the Dragon Within closer to the surface, where you can meet at the boundaries of conscious and unconscious.

Or maybe it’s the concussion?
>>
>>5286353
>8

Yes, yes, it’s definitely the concussion. The longer the music continues, the less soothed you are, and the more pronounced your headache becomes. You send away Paeris, snapping at him without thinking, and the half-elf Degenerate hurries to leave before offending you further. However, you find yourself utterly unable to regain your focus, and eventually are forced to end the exercise, having expended two hours for naught.

In the end, you are forced to subject yourself to the humiliation of asking the Novice for help in healing your swollen brain, a dependence on her healing which she lords over you as is her wont.

The next three days of travel passes uneventfully, much to your relief. It is less-glorious than constant battle and triumph over adversity, you suppose, but also infinitely easier on your constitution as you heal, and it helps to make up for the earlier delay.

As you travel, you are given ample time to focus on various activities, albeit not so much to test your mettle and to strengthen your combat aptitudes.

>1, no successful roll: critical failure
After days of trying, are forced to conclude that you have hit something of a metal-spiritual roadblock in your draconic meditations, eventually forsaking them for the time being.

What do you focus on instead?
>Divination studies alone
>Fleshweaving studies with the Novice
>Practice archery with the warriors
>Get to know another member of your retinue better [who?]
>Train with Glowie, getting to understand her and helping her to better integrate into the group
>Write-in

I hope you folks aren't averse to a more lowkey update? Has the balance of action and character moments been alright?
>>
>>5286366
>Divination studies alone
>Get to know another member of your retinue better [North and South Merchants]
>Train with Glowie, getting to understand her and helping her to better integrate into the group

Shitty rolls for a 4d20
>>
>>5286366
>Practice archery with the warriors
>Get to know another member of your retinue better [North and South Merchants]
>Train with Glowie, getting to understand her and helping her to better integrate into the group

I'll switch to vote above if no one wants to train archery.
>>
>>5286366
>Divination studies alone
>Practice archery with the warriors

>>5286366
Balance is all fine.
How could underground races even survive an environment with 3 challenging encounter for a band of ten per day
>>
>>5286366
>Divination studies alone
>>
>>5286366
>Fleshweaving studies with the Novice
>Get to know another member of your retinue better [North and South Merchants]
>Train with Glowie, getting to understand her and helping her to better integrate into the group
Can we improve Glowie’s disguise while we’re at it?
>>
>>5286366
>Divination studies alone

Omniscience soon fellow divchads
>>
>>5286366
>Divination studies alone
>Practice archery with the warriors
>>
>>5286558
>>5286500
>>5286458
>>5286451
>>5286429
>>5286401
>>5286371
[Locking vote for:
>Divination practice
>Archery practice
>Training with Glowie
>getting to know the merchants
So expect another big post, in multiple parts, posted over the next 30-to-60 minutes]
>>
>>5286606
While you march over the next three days, you also take some time to better know a few more of your retinue. Specifically, the strong instincts of the South-Merchant make you curious about the character and history of he and his northerly counterpart.

Both the Merchants are Silkscales—subtle arts such as those of the market are often performed by their subrace. Both have also, technically, been Reptilian Infiltrators of the surface, as Paeris the Degenerate was. Unlike him, though, their missions were much more subdued and long-term: these two middle-aged males served as messengers, waypoints, emergency contacts, and smugglers of goods to and from the surface-world.

“I traveled to the Southlands,” the South-Merchant explains, unnecessarily. “The humans there are dark in skintone, with many kingdoms and magocracies scattered throughout. They are not very devout to the Gods of Light, preferring their own reason and power—an inclination our race has helped along for centuries now. Some nations, such as the Aardanians, have a nobility entirely in the sway of our Dark Gods.”

“A comfortable assignment,” the North-Merchant scoffs. “The Northlands are no such easy pickings. The temperature in winter is inhospitable to our race. The people are pious to their pitiful ‘deities’. Kingdoms are stronger and more centralized, beneath racial hegemonies of great strength—the damned Paladin King of Hawksong holds dominion by divine right or economic means over most of the humans, the Iternagreyn Mages’ Tower and attendant nobility control much of the Silverwood of the elves, and dwarves and goblins pick over the ruins of our ancestors, where their own ignoble fathers did not already trample them into dust and forget about them.”

“And yet the growth opportunities are immense in the North!” the South-Merchant says, lamenting his own situation: “I have many such merchants as myself to contend with in the South. It is difficult to make a name for myself, to grow my own station and stature for better breeding-rights and clan-status. It is why I joined you, Superior One. A Dragonborn ushering in a new Age of Scales… Now THAT is opportunity for advancement, yes?”

“It certainly sounds more promising than dodging ever-more-paranoid ape-men in the North,” the North-Merchant says darkly. “They grow wary of demons, foreigners… Everything not of themselves. They have detected something amiss—our machinations, maybe, or something else. They grow strict, intolerant… And this makes a miserable job far worse.”
>>
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>>5286628
“You lack ambition,” the South-Merchant suggests.

“You lack experience with ACTUAL hardship,” the North-Merchant shoots back. “Speak with me when you have wintered in icy climes, with Paladins and Inquisitors checking every third shipment to and from the forward base.”

“And you in turn may condescend to me when you have dehydrated in the desert,” the South-Merchant replies, “or had to contend with backstabbing rival clans who plot openly even on the surface, with your mutual clients! Ape-men are easy; the master Race has true, deadly cunning!”

“In the Age of Scales, we will all rise and work openly,” you say, interrupting the argument before it boils over and blades are drawn, “and none of our people will be so desperate as to have to fight one another for crumbs.”

“Yes, Dragonborn!” they enthusiastically affirm in unison.

When the marching is done, you split your time between several training activities, to better your body and mind and to strengthen your unit.

First and foremost, you train in archery with the warriors. You are not so skilled at matters of ranged combat as in melee, sadly, but practice will make perfect. The Pit-Guard and his Apprentice practice with you, and lack even your skill; they are both used to grappling and battering-down unauthorized entrants into the breeding pits. Oluwadamilare the Degenerate, however, proves quite adept with bows and with thrown blades. He is a hybrid of a southern human and a Steeltalon, he says, and his certainly has the muscular built of that Reptilian subrace. Under his tutelage, you and your fellows experience marked improvement.

>Next time you use archery or a thrown dagger in battle, or take up practice in your downtime, you will gain a rank in that discipline
>>
Rolled 3, 12, 15 = 30 (3d20)

Glowie, too, attends this archery practice. Disguised as a high-born (if odd-looking) Serpent Priestess, she draws strange looks from the others in attendance, but you are their Dragonborn Champion. They do not ask for explanation when you make it clear by implication that none will be provided. She fumbles awkward with the bow, struggling in particular with the footwork. You suppose this makes sense—the disguised bug-being is used to having a much heftier hind-segment with many more feet.

Glowie’s other aptitudes may well be worthy as well, but she can hardly spit sticky silk, deliver venomous bites, or climb cave walls unaided while disguised as a Reptilian, and if she cannot use her inborn skills she will continue to be dead weight. This is unacceptable, and so you rectify it. It is for this reason that you spend a great deal of time privately tutoring her in proper footwork, and in self-defence.

Though you are still unable to properly communicate with her, she demonstrably understands you. You are more skilled at melee, especially fisticuffs and grappling, than you are in archery, and CERTAINLY you are better at feats of footwork and athletic achievement than most, and she sees some improvement as you go about this process.

>+1 rank in Leadership for your management and tutelage, and for rallying your forces in battle
>Glowie’s ranged and melee combat have improved

However, the training is not without… Distraction. The Novice-derived disguise of the worm-princess has, perhaps due to the flawed amulet or due to her underlying proportions, and even thicker tail and rear, and the grappling exercises bring you into repeated and prolonged contact with it while she quietly grunts and writhes against you. It brings to mind a certain vision…

>>5270667
>HAUGHTY NOVICE CLOACA

Worse yet for your focus is Glowie’s clear, inexplicable enjoyment of physical contact with you, so that during rest periods her body is always close at hand. She is utterly guileless and defenceless… But she is also, of course, a horrifying and hideous bug-monster underneath her amulet. The cognitive dissonance is too much and, inevitably, you retreat to your meditations.
>>
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>>5286642
You still struggle to advance beyond your mental block in all things Draconic, alas. Without the kindred spirit of the century-old Green Dragonborn, with his direct paternal connection to the Great Green Dragon, you cannot find your centre as you used to. Perhaps in the future, you will again find great truth in your connection of spirit and of blood—you ARE a distant descendant of the Red Dragon King, whatever else you may be—but for now you move on.

>15
Divination proves more fruitful as an avenue of study. Each evening, when socialization grows wearisome and Glowie grows too affectionate, you seclude yourself from your retinue. There, you read your scroll, tracing its patterns with one claw, from one star-point to another, following the uncanny and unknowable intricacies of destiny. You trace the threads of fate, from past through present to future, and from one place to another.

In the process, you learn a spell:
>Farsight: You have the ability to remotely view a distant place where you have been across great distance, or to scan just beyond your immediate area into even unfamiliar places; more mana and more time means greater range and accuracy
>Danger Sense: Your first roll in any hostile encounter, or when ambushed or encountering a trap, has its difficulty reduced considerably, because you can sense when a critical point in the flow of individuals’ fates is approaching; mana is automatically expended when this is activated
>True Strike: You can expend mana to guarantee a hit on an enemy, once per encounter and up to three times per day; you must state it with a vote if not offered as part of the prompt by default, and a plurality of the voters who voted to attack must concur (though the QM will automatically offer it sometimes, at crucial junctures)
>Write-in [May veto or modify if unreasonable]

[Cont.]
>>
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>>5286660
You excitedly report on this new mystical development to your closest (?) friend (??), the Novice. She is characteristically aloof about the whole affair, though you sense a mix of envy and respect for your progress in her usual jibes.

“I suppose a one-hundred-percent improvement is easily attainable,” she says, “when you are starting from absolute zero.”

“And what have you accomplished in YOUR ample downtime, Oh Learned and Brilliant NOVICE Fleshweaver?” you ask cooly.

The Novice smiles and saunters closer, altogether too smug. Too late, you realize she was waiting for you to ask that very question.

“Funny you should ask,” she says, “Because I am INDEED learned and brilliant,a nd while you were gazing into your own mammalian ‘navel’—”

“I have no navel,” you remind her, “having hatched from an egg, just as you did.”

She presses on, ignoring you, and tells you of her ‘great advance in the fields of alchemy and mysticism’. This consists of…
>An Amulet of Disguise that can work on you, disguising you as a ‘dark elf’
>An improvement to Glowie’s disguise, and a means of communicating with her
>Several Amulets of Disguise for your retinue, so they might disguise them
>Perfected madness poison, courtesy of those plants you defeated, which can be thrown in the form of a bomb or applied to an arrow or blade
>A small supply of healing potions made from fungus as you traveled, enough to allow for the healing of otherwise-debilitating wounds
>>
>>5286628
>the damned Paladin King of Hawksong holds dominion by divine right or economic means over most of the humans
he doesn't know lmao
also sorry north merchant, moms fault

>True Strike: You can expend mana to guarantee a hit on an enemy, once per encounter and up to three times per day; you must state it with a vote if not offered as part of the prompt by default, and a plurality of the voters who voted to attack must concur (though the QM will automatically offer it sometimes, at crucial junctures)

>Several Amulets of Disguise for your retinue, so they might disguise them

>“I suppose a one-hundred-percent improvement is easily attainable,” she says, “when you are starting from absolute zero.”
100% improvement is just doubling. Going from 0 to 1 is an improvement of infinity percent. Mark down math as another area we beat the Novice.
>>
>>5286698
>100% improvement is just doubling
[Well, you had one divination spell and now have two. Chalk it up to my error more than hers.]
>>
>>5286628
>>5286633
Why don't these two just... swap places for a time? Exchange all their info and contacts, everything, then see how the two cope
>>
>>5286663
>Danger Sense: Your first roll in any hostile encounter, or when ambushed or encountering a trap, has its difficulty reduced considerably, because you can sense when a critical point in the flow of individuals’ fates is approaching; mana is automatically expended when this is activated
>>5286663
>A small supply of healing potions made from fungus as you traveled, enough to allow for the healing of otherwise-debilitating wounds
plus backing the retort part of >>5286698
>100% improvement is just doubling. Going from 0 to 1 is an improvement of infinity percent. Mark down math as another area we beat the Novice.
>>
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>>5286710
[An amusing notion, but each of them only speaks surface dialects and has specialized cultural knowledge for their specific region of mammal society... And also, they were assigned their roles, and only got out of them by joining your retinue.]
>>
>>5286660
>Danger Sense: Your first roll in any hostile encounter, or when ambushed or encountering a trap, has its difficulty reduced considerably, because you can sense when a critical point in the flow of individuals’ fates is approaching; mana is automatically expended when this is activated
Simple and easy.
>>5286663
>An Amulet of Disguise that can work on you, disguising you as a ‘dark elf’
Useful for when we actually meet the elves.
>>
>>5286660
>Danger Sense: Your first roll in any hostile encounter, or when ambushed or encountering a trap, has its difficulty reduced considerably, because you can sense when a critical point in the flow of individuals’ fates is approaching; mana is automatically expended when this is activated

Love a passive buff

>An improvement to Glowie’s disguise, and a means of communicating with her
The communications is the big attraction here
>>
>>5286700
dang
we'll find another way to dunk on her
>>
>>5286660
>True Strike: You can expend mana to guarantee a hit on an enemy, once per encounter and up to three times per day; you must state it with a vote if not offered as part of the prompt by default, and a plurality of the voters who voted to attack must concur (though the QM will automatically offer it sometimes, at crucial junctures)
>An improvement to Glowie’s disguise, and a means of communicating with her
>>
>>5286663
>Farsight: You have the ability to remotely view a distant place where you have been across great distance, or to scan just beyond your immediate area into even unfamiliar places; more mana and more time means greater range and accuracy

>An improvement to Glowie’s disguise, and a means of communicating with her
>>
>>5286660
>True Strike: You can expend mana to guarantee a hit on an enemy, once per encounter and up to three times per day; you must state it with a vote if not offered as part of the prompt by default, and a plurality of the voters who voted to attack must concur (though the QM will automatically offer it sometimes, at crucial junctures)

>An improvement to Glowie’s disguise, and a means of communicating with her
>>
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[Locking vote in an hour or so!. We seem to have a clear preference for Vote 2, but Vote 1 is neck-and-neck!]
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>5286960
[Beginning the write-up, rolling for spell!]
>>
>>5287017
>>5286958
>>5286808
>>5286800
>>5286771
>>5286741
>>5286714
>>5286698
It’s almost a pity that the Novice lacks your new <Danger Sense>, or perhaps she would have seen the trap she just walked right into.

“A one-hundred-percent improvement would be a mere doubling,” you correct her. “If I started at ‘asbolute zero’, I suppose I improved to an infinite, or incalculable, degree.”

“I MEANT because you already had one Divination spell!” she scoffs. “Obviously!”

“Maybe, or maybe we should just mark down ‘basic mathematics’ as another area where I excel beyond your ‘superior’ mind, oh One of Inimitable Intellect.”

The Novice hisses in irritation at being bested by a technicality, but does not argue the point, instead shoving a sheet of parchment into your face. You lean back, squinting at the mystic runes and alchemical formulae thereon.

“If you’re so smart,” she says, “tell me what you see.”

“I see… A modification to a fleshweaver recipe for an Amulet of Disguise?”

The Novices yanks the parchment back, rolling it up and stuffing it into a pocket of her robe.

“You only knew that much because I showed you how they are made,” she sneers.

“You’re right—I am a fast learner. How long did it take you to learn such formulae by sight?”

You take a step back, genuinely afraid for a moment that the Novice is going to attack you in her fury. Instead, she lashes her tail once and soothes her temper. She IS a full-blooded Reptilian, after all—your race prides itself in controlling their emotions, and Serpent Priests are the most controlled of all. SO it is said, at least.

“Bring me to your ‘sparring partner’,” the Novice says, the intimate implications immediately apparent in her tone, in turn eliciting a degree of embarrassment from you, “I will show you who is the student , and who is the mistress.”

You oblige. You, the Novice, and Glowie then duck away from the rest of your retinue for a moment, to where the worm-princess can remove her amulet and reveal her true (admittedly much less sexy) self without drawing attention and alarm from the true Reptilians. The Novice tinkers with the Amulet of Disguise, fiddling with the spells surrounding and woven into its metal components, while you and Glowie watch with muted curiosity. At the last, she empties a small syringe carefully into the divot in it, which exists for this purpose. Blood flows in, blood flows out, and the amulet… Changes, in a way imperceptible to those without magical acumen.
>>
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Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>5287044
“Here,” the Novice commands, stuffing the amulet back into the worm-woman’s odd, multi-segmented digits. “Put it back on.”

Glowie looks to you, as if for confirmation that it will be safe. You, in turn, give the Novice a pointed look. The Novice croaks haughtily, and snatches the amulet back, leaping upon Glowie and pulling the necklace over her head-segment.

A moment later, Glowie is transformed anew. Something is subtly different, you can tell. She looks a bit more naturally-proportioned, but her colouration and build are still not quite the same as the Novice’s, despite she herself providing the base template—in fact, the differences are MORE pronounced!

“I took samples from the Botanist while tending to his wounds from the battle,” the Novice says, proud of her subterfuge and the end result.

“And this is… It?” you ask, somehow having expected more. The disguised Glowie is certainly a bit more naturalistic, less uncanny, and more distinctly herself, but is this ALL? ANY Fleshweaver could do such a thing, you would assume, but the Novice seemed peculiarly proud.

…But, predictably, your dramatic childhood ‘companion’ was setting you up again. She smacks your rear with her tail, and clears her throat. Then, she hisses unexpected words: “Glowie, speak.”

Glowie looks startled (as are you, though you hide it better). However, when she obediently opens her mouth, an actual sound emerges!

“A-aaah,” she says quietly. Then, blinking her eyes in astonishment, she tries again. “Ssssaaaasssaaaaaaasssssaaaaaaa. Ah.”

Well, it’s not eloquent speechcraft, but it’s more than she could manage before!

“Your venom should be intact, too,” the Novice tells her boastfully, “and even your spinneret. I incorporated samples from YOU as well.”

“She wasn’t injured in the battle,” you note. “When did you take those samples?”

The Novice waves off your concerns, to your annoyance. Still, the results almost LITERALLY speak for themselves.

“So, she can speak.” You pause. “Sort of.”

“Well, she has vocal chords, anyway, and a proper pallet,” the Novice corrects. “Some degree of… We’ll call it ‘speech therapy’… Will be necessary.”

“Which you will attend to, I presume?”

The Novice snickers, and says “If I can tear you two apart long enough to do so.”

Glowie looks both disturbed and excited, as you suppose you might if you were transfigured into a bug and discovered you could communicate by chittering.

With this matter attended to, the three of your return to the main body of your force. If anyone notices the subtle changes in Glowie, they do not comment upon them; her amulet, of course, is safely stuffed into her robes once more, so as not to raise questions.

“Let us continue,” you declare, and your retinue readies to do so without another word.
>>
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Rolled 9, 7, 13 = 29 (3d20)

>>5287045
The next twenty-four hours pass without further incident, with your evening repast followed by the usual combat training and meditation. Sparring with Glowie proves particularly edifying, both because she demonstrates marked improvements in confidence and form, and because of how she concludes it:

“Th-th-thaaank,” she stammers, scrunching up her face as she forces her throat and mouth to form the serpentine syllables of True Speech.

She bows her head in an exaggerated mimicry of the usual sign of deference-to-a-superior common to your kind, then looks at your expectantly.

“Yes,” you say. “Good.”

In truth, you are…
>Actually a little uncomfortable with this creature speaking to you like a real person
>Enamoured by this delightful creature, and by how she clearly relishes your praise
>Feeling a half-familiar sensation in your chest that you can’t quite place [+romance option]

---

The next day begins just as uneventfully as the last, but with a distinct feeling of tension, for you know that you are now entering the realm of the outcast ‘dark’ elves—or, rather, the area where small patrols of them have been seen traveling with their oversized, arachnoid and insectoid companions. You suppose you have the bigger and more impressive venomous insect on your side, when it comes down to it, and a motley fighting force that should be more than a match for some undersized elf-apes, and yet…

>66

You are passing through a small passageway when it happens. Your forces were forced to travel single-file, slowly and cautiously. You feel the thrum of fate’s thread vibrate your very self, every iota of your being trembling with the sudden need to—

“MOVE!” you bellow. “Get ba—!"

Your warning is cut off by the sound of the explosion, as some sort of mystical charge is set off by an unknown action by one of your party—or perhaps by some elfish observer, hidden from your senses? You have no way to know, no chance to observe The explosion itself does not endanger you, but the falling rocks DO… And, as you yourself said, you must MOVE.

[Athleticism check, DC 10 thanks to DANGER SENSE can't believe I rolled this encounter/event right after you guys got that. Talk about destiny.]

[Cont., don't vote yet.]
>>
Rolled 2, 2, 7, 5, 13 = 29 (5d14)

>>5287058
>13
Without your <Danger Sense>, which automatically triggered at the comparatively negligible cost of some magical energy, you would surely have been crushed. As it is, you are able to leap forward, completely avoiding any injury and even tumbling free of the debris. However, you find yourself trapped on the opposite side of the rockfall with…

[Rolling]
>>
>>5287062
…Glowie, the Elf-Specialist, Paeris, the Cartographer, and the Pit-Guard, who had all advanced before you. Glowie, in fact, had gone JUST before you—only your tackle had spared her having her head removed by a flying chunk of boulder half your size and thrice your weight.

“Th-thank,” she whispers from beneath you.

You clamber off and survey your situation, drawing your blade almost immediately as you stand. Nobody else on your side of the rockslide seems harmed… But it IS quite the rock-slide. Debris and dust still settle around you, casting the area into haze. You squint against it, seeing no signs of elven warriors… Well, except Paeris the Degenerate, technically.

“Sound off!” the Pit-Guard shouts.

You hear the faint cries of your allies on the other side of the blockage—not panicked or angry screams of battle, but a more measured (if still alarmed) response to the Pit-Guard’s command.

You turn around, peering deeper into the darkness. The passage here opens into a rock passage, and then opens up slightly into a well-worn cavern with a basin below, not unlike the one which prefaced the deep drop where Glowie’s ‘sibling’ wove its sieve to entrap hapless Reptilians. Along the edge is a rock shelf, which follows the circumference, winding downwards into darkness. Several outcroppings lead up into an abyss which is no less bleak than that below; your Darkvision reaches its limits in each direction.

What do you do?
>Hold tight—your allies will be able to find another way around and join you, hopefully
>Use <Improved Dragonshape> to move the rockslide yourself, at the cost of much of your remaining mana
>Use <Guidance> to seek out an answer as to which path ahead is best [uses less mana, but more time]
>Use <Jump> to ascend the outcroppings [can only bring one ally, specify who if anyone]
>Take your party and descend the walkway
>Write-in
>>
>>5287058
>Enamoured by this delightful creature, and by how she clearly relishes your praise

I think it would be hilarious for our first romance to be with a literal bug and to see the reactions from certain anons, but I'm going to pass.

>Use <Improved Dragonshape> to move the rockslide yourself, at the cost of much of your remaining mana

I don't like being divided from our allies at all, especially when it seems like there's going to be combat. It's worth using our mana for this I think.
>>
>>5287071
+1
>>
Can we still fuck if no romance?
>>
>>5287075
Kek this anon is asking the important questions.
>>
>>5287058
>Enamoured by this delightful creature, and by how she clearly relishes your praise
Obviously.
>Feeling a half-familiar sensation in your chest that you can’t quite place [+romance option]
Because we’re a blue-balled virgin and it’d be funny to see anons sperg out over it.

>>5287067
>Use <Improved Dragonshape> to move the rockslide yourself, at the cost of much of your remaining mana
Never split the party.

>>5287075
>not considering the Breeding Pits romantic
Clearly our Dragonborn’s degeneracy is showing.
>>
>>5287067
>Enamoured by this delightful creature, and by how she clearly relishes your praise
Not supporting romance.

>Use <Improved Dragonshape> to move the rockslide yourself, at the cost of much of your remaining mana
>>
>>5287111
Supporting this

We can always rest to regain mana
>>
>>5287075
[If the vote goes against romance, it becomes write-in only. She will not make any further moves, and I won't suggest them in prompts.]
>>
>>5287159
It’s nice to tease it every now and then, even if anons don’t romance her.
>>
>>5287159
Too bad she’s an ugly bug and not a half-elf reptilian with gigantic tits
>>
>>5287067
Speaking of elves with giant tits lets go find one after escaping this trap.
>Enamoured by this delightful creature, and by how she clearly relishes your praise
>Use <Improved Dragonshape> to move the rockslide yourself, at the cost of much of your remaining mana
>>
>>5287058
>>Enamoured by this delightful creature, and by how she clearly relishes your praise
>>5287067
>Use <Guidance> to seek out an answer as to which path ahead is best [uses less mana, but more time]
>>
>>5287058
>Enamoured by this delightful creature, and by how she clearly relishes your praise
Not against future romance but at her current state I dont feel MC holds an attraction outside the amulet, with her new ability to communicate I would appreciate further options for it in the future but the attraction for MC should be literally "only skin deep" as he has had no real communication outside of gross bug anatomy responses up until now, I do appreciate that he has some instinct for romance stemming from his mammalian heritage, but the thought of Novice romance via subjegation or submission because of our reptilian ancestry paired with our longstanding childhood relationship
>>5287067
>Use <Improved Dragonshape> to move the rockslide yourself, at the cost of much of your remaining mana
Good show of strength and leadership, might inspire the Bastard to take meditation seriously and show some pride in his Draconic roots
>>
>>5287067
>Enamoured by this delightful creature, and by how she clearly relishes your praise
Not squashing bug's cheek Yet
>Use <Improved Dragonshape> to move the rockslide yourself, at the cost of much of your remaining mana

I'm really glad you choosed danger sense while I was sleeping. Passive spells are amazing.
QM, how does mana works? Scenarised amount? How can we regen it?
>>
>>5287206
>QM, how does mana works? Scenarised amount? How can we regen it?
[Mana is your life force, as with all living things, and by channeling it in a specific form it becomes fuel for magical power. You have roughly enough for four-to-five spells per in-game day, though some (dragonshape, for instance, or a really in-depth vision like you got when you first used divination) will expend more of it. I'll also generally only tally uses of spells which people vote for, not ones I add to a write-up unilaterally and for flavour. You regenerate it with rest, or mana potions and you currently have no such potions]

>>5287071
>>5287074
>>5287104
>>5287111
>>5287148
>>5287167
>>5287187
>>5287193
>>5287206
You feel Glowie press against you, clingy despite the presence of the other Reptilians. You can hardly begrudge her—it is clearly a deeply-ingrained instinct for her weird, gross bug-race, and perhaps especially for a ‘princess’ who you found hiding behind her massive mother. You give her hand a reassuring squeeze, prompting a soft, happy gasp and further nuzzling… But your mind is elsewhere, even in spite of your <appetite>. She’s endearing, particularly in her current guise, but you have higher priorities. You gently push her away, instructing she and the others to stand back.

One you are clear, you take a deep breath and shut your nictitating membranes. You try to remember the way that it felt to transform, with the Novice’s aid, in her room almost a week prior—how to felt to be one step closer to draconic majesty, to feel lava in your veins and royalty on your horned brow. It takes some time… But, eventually, you feel it take hold of you.

Unlike your last use of the <Improved Dragonshape>, you control the transformation carefully this time. You do not swell to such proportions that your armour cannot fit—it’s tight, your movements a little restricted at times as your chest widens, neck lengthens, and your hands and feet strengthen and thicken… But when it is done, you are mightier without being tremendously larger. Your accompanying forces, never having seen this form, are nonetheless wowed.

With uncanny, supernatural strength, you begin to haul the stones from the gap, digging your way to reuniting your retinue. The Pit-Guard shouts for those on the other side to hold fast, and to stand back to allow you room to work without accidentally sending a cascade of hard earth down upon their head. It is slow going even with your might, and you have no idea how long the Dragonshape will hold…
>“A minute? Ten? An hour, at most, but a half hour or less is more likely”
…But it should be enough.
>>
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>>5287346
You are three-quarters of the way to the other side (or so you estimate) when the Pit-Guard approaches you, waving for your attention and saying something over the commotion your excavations create. You stop for a moment, panting for breath from this prolonged exertion, and await an explanation.

“Elves,” he says.

You feel a tingle go up your spine at the word. The trap’s activation has drawn the trapmakers, then… Or the sound of you and your retinue.

“Are you sure?” you ask, peering out into the darkness.

Without looking or making any obvious movement, the Pit-Guard cocks his head slightly. You follow the movement, as subtly as you can, and see it: a deep-black face, topped with white fur, flanked by tall, sharp-tipped ear-structures, and the faint reflection of two red eyes. The elf is up on one of the rock shelves above. How did it even get up there??

More importantly, what will you do about it?
>Pretend not to see it and continue your excavation—but instruct the others to maintain vigilant
>Instruct the best archer of your group to take out this scout before it can report back
>Call out to it, and attempt to parley with the elf—you have Paeris and the Elf-Specialist, after all
>Use <Jump> to reach the fiend, and capture it to interrogate
>Write-in
>>
>>5287347
>Pretend not to see it and continue your excavation—but instruct the others to maintain vigilant

I really want to parlay with it but we've already used Dragonshape and haven't finished excavating. I'm guessing parlaying isn't necessarily time-sensitive so I'll stick with the excavation. It's really important to reunite the party.
>>
>>5287347
I'm wary of the <Jump> because of depleting mana...
>Ask the Elf-specialist if we stand a chance negotiating, else if it's best to take down the scout non-lethaly or just eliminate him
We build a team, let's use their strength and be confident in their area of expertise.
>>
>>5287347
>Call out to it, and attempt to parley with the elf—you have Paeris and the Elf-Specialist, after all
>Continue your excavation

They parley, we dig. Elf can wait 5 minutes for us to finish digging.
>>
>>5287347
>Use <Jump> to reach the fiend, and capture it to interrogate
rawr
>>
>>5287347
>Instruct the best archer of your group to take out this scout before it can report back
>>
>>5287347
>Instruct the best archer of your group to take out this scout before it can report back
>Join the archer to practice bowery
Let's fleshweave a motherfucking hedgehog.
>>
>>5287368
>>5287363
I'll +1 these two to hopefully avoid the elf-skewering.
>>
>>5287363
+1
And then follow the advice we get.
>>
>>5287347
>Use <Jump> to reach the fiend, and capture it to interrogate
>>
>>5287368
Supporting this
>>
[Expect a post later tonight, or tomorrow. Getting deployed to Top Gun: Maverick!]
>>
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Rolled 7, 18, 5, 20, 11 = 61 (5d20)

>>5287805
>>5287680
>>5287656
>>5287538
>>5287515
>>5287512
>>5287433
>>5287368
>>5287363
“Elf-Specialist, Paeris, to me,” you grunt, taking a break from your excavations to catch your breath.

Both the males hurry to your side.

“There is an elf on the shelf above,” you say, hurriedly appending “Do not look!”

They resist the urge to do so.

“You both speak the tongue of these creatures, yes?” you say. “you know them?”

“Yes,” the Elf-Specialist is quick to answer.

“Not… These ones, specifically,” Paeris says after a moment, more hesitant. “Elves are not monolithic. They have factions, tribes… Like our clans and subraces, but less unified. They have distinct cultures, dialects…”

“Disorganization and weakness to exploit,” the Elf-Specialist says dismissively, “but fundamentally, they are simple creatures. Long-lived, but still mammalian, ruled by common passions. They are fascinating exemplars of how far an ape can strive, but their variations are cosmetic curiosities.”

“As you say, Superior One,” Paeris allows, though you see him frown and sense unease in his posture.

“I am going to continue digging,” you say, rolling your shoulders and getting back into position. “Keep it from shooting me in the back. Keep it from leaving, to bring MORE elves to shoot us ALL in the backs. Ideally, bring it down to speak with us directly. Can you do this?"

"Yes," the Elf-Specialist answers, eager to prove himself.

"...I will not fail you, Dragonborn," Paeris answers, conscious his musical disappointment days prior.
>>
>>5288147
You do not get a chance to observe negotiations, busying yourself instead with reopening the passage as quickly as possible. You imagine that you can feel the Dragonshape failing, deteriorating, and you imagine what will happen if you both fail to reunite your split party AND negotiations deteriorate. A dozen elves, two dozen, springing up behind you while your own magically-augmented strength fails you, outnumbered and alone with hostile mammalian primitives and their venomous cohort…

No. Fear is the enemy. Fear is BENEATH you. You ARE fear. You are the ancestral terror of snake sin the minds of all monkeys. You are DRAGON.

You roar as you rip away the last of the stone, exploding forth into the chasm. The Pit-Guard’s apprentice stares back at you in shock, the young Steeltalon having been doing his best to match your efforts at reopening from his own side.

“Superior One?”

You take a moment to catch your breath again before answering.

“In your own time,” the Novice says, deadpan snark irrepressible in that moment, disguise as concern. You recognize it still, and glare in the direction of her voice.

“Hurry,” you wheeze, beckoning to him and to the others. “Elves. DO not attack, but be ready.”

You turn around, blade low but not sheathed, and return to see how your comrades have faired in negotiations…

>20

But you see you needn’t have worried. The dark-skinned elven outcast has not only been talked into staying, but has somehow descended the cave wall from his high-up outpost to join Paeris and the Elf-Specialist. He regards Paeris with obvious suspicion and wariness, yet seems mostly intrigued by the other Reptilians, and even laughs—a strange sound, as mammals make it, but one your recognize the meaning of—as the Elf-Specialist says something in what you assume to be the elf-tongue.

“What did he say?” you ask Paeris, eyeing the strange ape-man.

This is your first glimpse of a pure-blooded elf, almost the first true mammal you have seen besides the odd human slave or sacrifice in passing… Bizarre! He almost resembles the shape the Novice adopted with her amulet, but his skin is not a rich brown as hers was, but an almost bluish hue of near-black. He has the same peculiar shapeliness, too—you only know that this long-haired, fine-boned mammal is a ‘he’ because he lacks the pronounced chest-glands associated with female mammals—the ‘mammaries’. In his attire, made primarily of leather straps and with much bared skin, it would be hard to miss them were they present.

“They are speaking of their mutual hatred of surface-dwellers,” Paeris answer quietly in True-Speech. “Especially surface elves. He was delighted to learn of my true nature, after his initial instinct to gut me subsided.”

Hm. Curious.
>>
>>5288201
Aided by the Elf-Specialist and Translator—the latter having an easier time of the apparently-unusual dialect spoken by this elven outcast, you begin to learn more from this lone scout of his people. They are xenophobic isolationists, preferring the company of their own people and solitude in the deep earth. Apparently, they have dwelled here ever since the ‘betrayers’ and ‘oppressors’ of the surface drove them down into this place, following some sort of schism over succession in an elven kingdom.

“I’ve never heard of this schism,” Paeris later intimates to you, “nor even the kingdom, and elven memories are OLD.’”

“Young by the standards of our race, though,” the Elf-Specialist reminds the Degenerate, and you. “And the elves are a chaotic race, given to such political disarray and to individualism.”

“The kingdom COULD be a known one,” the Translator chimes in. “Their words for many surface-things are odd, shaped by isolation and a conscious effort to distance their terminology and pronunciation from those of the elves which the Degenerate Infiltrator is familiar with. They speak in a highly-derived version of a rare dialect, and with dwarven loan-words at times.”

You are briefly introduced to your guest—or is it ‘host’?—who recognizes you as leader and attempts to ‘shake your hand’. The gesture is… Unusual, and unorthodox, but then Glowie has accustomed you to such hand-clasping. You can only communicate with the elf through the Translator and the other two, and the discomfort at being unable to express yourself directly and uncertainty as to how to proceed drives you to take your leave. You allow the elf to continue speaking with the three members of your retinue who are semi-fluent in elf-tongue. He seems in jovial spirits to have met ‘allies’ against the ‘oppressors’, and in no hurry to leave. Meanwhile, you take Glowie’s hand and guide her back to the Novice, to consult.

“This elf seems to think us allies,” you note. “Friends.”

“This elf is a mammalian savage,” the Novice says. “They can’t be trusted, obviously, and he’s a fool to trust us.”

“But...?”

The Novice grimaces at how easily you predict her, but you couldn’t fail to notice her excited tail-flits and the curious wiggle she develops in his hips when she is on the verge of acquiring more knowledge.

“But we could collect samples!” she enthuses. “Acquire relics! Elves are the most skilled magic-users of the mammalian races, and their blood could improve our amulets for later infiltration!”
>>
>>5288204
“Or they could be useful allies against our mutual enemies, as they suggest,” you muse aloud, playing the role of mammal’s advocate as much to goad the Novice as to test the idea. “The Elf-Specialist says that the dark elf expressed disgust and loathing for the Gods of Light, when elven gods of that group were mentioned. Maybe these godless apostates could be… Converts to the True Faith, and our cause?”

“Foolish,” she hisses quietly. “They are chaff. Trash, even by their race’s standard. And remember Glowie, and what we learned of her race?

Glowie perks up at the sound of her name. She has been happily humming, seemingly delighted at this turn of events—the meeting with the elf on friendly terms. You’re not sure you understand why, and she can’t yet properly express such concepts. Instead, she simply cuddles into you. You gently push her away, patting her head to assuage the frown that results.


The Novice watches this interaction with disgust and amusement in equal parts, before continuing:

“If you bring them into the fold… Who is to say that you will not accelerate our own race’s decline into irrelevance? What if another god finds these… What are they called?”

“’Drow’ is their word, I believe,” you say, butchering the pronunciation.

“What if a dark god takes a liking to the Drow, and makes a pet project of them… And ceases to bestow their favour upon us? I’m not saying we must exterminate them, but if they are to be allies, it is to be as slaves, or pawns, or mercenaries. It is the Reptilian way: to hold such warm-blooded ones at a distance.”

You consider the Novice’s words, and all you have learned. You carefully weigh your options.

How will you approach the Drow?
>Introduce the Drow scout into the worship of the Dark Gods, and make true allies of him and his people if you can
>Make a pragmatic petition to the Drow, to be looser allies of convenience—neither foes, nor friendly, but possible allies when opportunity presents itself
>Ask this scout to lead you back to his people’s elites… Then issue an ultimatum to subjugate them, and decapitate their leadership if that fails
>Take the scout prisoner, and move on—the kobolds of Bloodrise are your concern, not these mammals
>Give him a gift, send him on his way, and think no more of the Drow
>Write-in
>>
>>5288207
>Introduce the Drow scout into the worship of the Dark Gods, and make true allies of him and his people if you can

Speak of Death mostly he won’t play politics like the other gods
>>
>>5288207
>Ask this scout to lead you back to his people’s elites… Then issue an ultimatum to subjugate them, and decapitate their leadership if that fails
>>
>>5288207
>Introduce the Drow scout into the worship of the Dark Gods (Death specifically), and make true allies of him and his people if you can

Converting them to Death is actually a really good idea. We can get the benefits out of them being allies without the worry of the Gods favoring them over us. Maybe it'll even count as fulfilling our favor to Death if we get him a bunch of warriors.

The only thing I'm worried about is the dice, our diplomacy skill isn't the best, but it's worth a try.
>>
>>5288207
>Make a pragmatic petition to the Drow, to be looser allies of convenience—neither foes, nor friendly, but possible allies when opportunity presents itself
>>
>>5288207
>Make a pragmatic petition to the Drow, to be looser allies of convenience—neither foes, nor friendly, but possible allies when opportunity presents itself
>>
For a Dragonborn we’re pretty peaceful
>>
>>5288207
>introduce him to the dark gods
The Reptilian way is what brought us to the verge of being replaced by bugs in the first place.
>>
>>5288207
>Introduce the Drow scout into the worship of the Dark Gods, and make true allies of him and his people if you can
We are on the verge of extinction. Reptilian greatness is a phantom of the past. We still will have ambition, the current objective is surviving, multiplying, and reaching the surface to once again use the real stars and not projections for rituals and divination. All climate are not suited for reptilians in the end, so let's fill the unhospitable regions of true believers (worms, dark elves, whatever)
>>
>>5288207
>Make a pragmatic petition to the Drow, to be looser allies of convenience—neither foes, nor friendly, but possible allies when opportunity presents itself

I’m sure they’d make good mercenary troops

We’ll subjugate them once the Dragonborn project is underway
>>
>>5288207
>Ask this scout to lead you back to his people’s elites… Then issue an ultimatum to subjugate them, and decapitate their leadership if that fails
Can we at least take their equivalent of a princess or something? We really need to subjugate something soon, at this rate we’ll become close friends with the Paladin King for fucks sake!

>>5288216
>not worshiping the Great One as the Apex Predator that they should become subservient to

>>5288234
Honestly, I think it’s our luck in diplomacy has really opened up doors to the most peaceful Dragonborn the world has yet seen.
>>
>>5288207
>>Introduce the Drow scout into the worship of the Dark Gods, and make true allies of him and his people if you can
>>
>>5288207
>>Introduce the Drow scout into the worship of the Dark Gods, and make true allies of him and his people if you can
Pan-Underdarkian Alliance for the win. Lowlight is best light.
>>
>>5288216
>>5288227
>>5288228
>>5288230
>>5288231
>>5288256
>>5288265
>>5288305
>>5288334
>>5288347
>>5288350
Hours later, you are sharing some of your dried meats and water with the dark elf scout; he, in turn, offers you some fungus, lichen, and an unfamiliar greyish meat of a fresher variety. You refuse much of the meal—the Translator smooths over the initial offence this causes by explaining the strictly carnivorous nature of Reptilian repast. The meat is… Not bad. Definitely subterranean quarry, with the same grisliness and blandness common to cave-bats you are used to, albeit maybe a bit fattier.

When the shared meal is complete, you clear your throat to get the attention of the elf, and your retinue. It is time to decide what to do with this scout and his people.

“Tell him,” you say, “that we come bearing the tidings of the Dark Gods Below and Beyond. Gods of deep, dark places… Of strength, and self-succifiency.”

The Translator does his best, the Elf-Specialist helping to convey some of the subtler cultural notions of your Gods. The dark elf chews his jerky in quiet, eyebrows knit in concentration and confusion, until eventually he ahs a breakthrough.

“Ooooh!” he says, then babbles something in elf-tongue.

You look to the three who speak it.

“He says, ‘oh, the Gods of Evil,” Paeris says, cringing.

“Outrageous sacrilege,” the Elf-Specialist huffs. “But typical of their soft-hearted and simple-minded kind.”

Your own heart sinks. This bodes ill for conversion, to hear your glorious pantheon spoken in such a way. You expect repudiation and rejection. Maybe you’ll have to kill this scout after all…

But no, he seems excited, standing up and grinning widely, babbling something else and drawing his hands through the air dramatically as he monologues, before pressing on hand to his bare chest, near his heart.

“What is he saying?” you ask the elf-tongued.

“’If the oppressors are loved by the good gods, then they must be good. Well, what they did to us was a bad thing, and… If this bad thing is good, then I do not want to be good. Maybe it is time to be evil.’”

The Drow scout holds out his hand, to shake yours again. You oblige, gladly.

As you continue to discuss matters, the limits of your cross-cultural knowledge and even your mastery of the nuances of your own faith begin to reveal themselves, to your chagrin. It does not make explaining the alien concepts and true majesty of the Dark Gods any easier. For one thing, the dark elf keeps asking who their ‘leader’ or ‘sky-father’ is, meaningless terms in the co-equal alliance of ancient deities.

“The Serpent Ascendant is an obvious choice,” the Novice chimes in, interjecting herself into the conversation. “He symbolizes ambition, striving, greater good, and Reptilian supremacy.”

"I don't remember asking you," you note sourly, though you all consider her proposal.
>>
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>>5288502
“A worthy choice,” the Elf-Specialist admits, “but the Baleful Beholder, he called Master of the Insightful Eye, might better appeal to a race of ‘magic-users’, such as elves often view themselves.”

“Graandmatha,” Glowie speaks up, surprising you all. She looks at you eagerly. You take a moment to parse her non-sequitur, and realize that she must mean the one called Lady of the Rookery, Mother of Dragons. Well, that makes sense—her race are a creation of that goddess.

And then there’s Death… A neutral deity, ‘apolitical’. Not exactly a foe of the Gods of Light, by the commandments he offered up to you when you sought to be his Death Knight… But also unlikely to play favourites with the races, and thus least likely to lead these elves to becoming a rival to the Master Race in the future. Would he even be interested in playing patron to some many? Few among your own people worship Death as a primary deity…

What Dark God do you position as primary for the elf’s understanding?
>The Serpent Ascending
>The Baleful Beholder
>the Mother of Dragons
>Death
>The Persecutor of the Weak, god of eugenics and law
>None—try very hard to explain that the gods are a package deal and co-equal [may result in confusion and decreased interest]

Despite your best efforts and some successes, the scout seems cognizant of how limited this conversation must inevitably be. He is no leader among his people, you gather, and clearly not a scholar or priest. He eventually gestures down the long road into the deeper darkness.

“He offers to take us to his people,” Paeris says. “To his… Village? City? To a leader.”

“The word he uses best translates to ‘mid-ranking military official in a private warband’,” the Translator provides.

“Culturally, surface-elves use it interchangeably with the Northern human term ‘Captain’,” says the translator.

Do you accept? By the sounds of it, this is no short journey, and may delay your arrival at the kobold—your main mission—by days.
>Yes, you will go to the drow to spread the good word of the Dark Gods
>No, you will not—you will arrange to meet with these Drow later, on your return trip
>Send the Elf-Specialist in your place [specify if you leave anyone else to accompany him, or give him any specific instructions]
>>
>>5288505
>Death

I would choose the Baleful Beholder but I'm pretty certain that the elves would actually be better fit for that god than the reptilians so I'm afraid that they would become his favored race. I'm also banking a small hope that converting them to Death will count as a favor towards him.

>Yes, you will go to the drow to spread the good word of the Dark Gods

Let's go. It's a worthy mission to spend some time on. We should take some time to train our diplomacy on the travel, though. We can't rely on our reptilian empathy for the negotiations. We also could get a Drow scout for our troubles which would make the return trip and the trip to the kobolds much easier.
>>
>>5288505
>Death
>Yes, you will go to the drow to spread the good word of the Dark Gods

I don’t trust any god except death…
>>
>>5288532
And taxes

>>5288505
>Death
>Yes, you will go to the drow to spread the good word of the Dark Gods
>>
>>5288505
>None—try very hard to explain that the gods are a package deal and co-equal [may result in confusion and decreased interest]
If I learned anything from Pharaoh, presenting one god as head god is really gonna piss off every other god, and if the head god is death he won't even care.

>Send the Elf-Specialist in your place [specify if you leave anyone else to accompany him, or give him any specific instructions]
Be ready to be picked up on the return trip
Typical infiltrator instructions, learn all you can be subversive blah blah blah
>>
>>5288505

>None—try very hard to explain that the gods are a package deal and co-equal [may result in confusion and decreased interest]

>>Yes, you will go to the drow to spread the good word of the Dark Gods

This seems like an opportunity for us to supplicate the pantheon and maybe perform some Divination prior to entering the town for a successful conversion mission. If we do well, we can rest and resupply. It's also possible that the Drow will share some tips about navigation and the surface in general, which might be helpful in the long run.
>>
>>5288505
>None—try very hard to explain that the gods are a package deal and co-equal [may result in confusion and decreased interest]
>No, you will not—you will arrange to meet with these Drow later, on your return trip
>>
In b4 Drow is matriarchal and the the queen causes a gigantic waifu war.
>>
>>5288505
>Either Serpent Acsending, Mother of Dragons, or None
Death isn’t the ideal because he’s neutral in the Light/Dark God war, and these elves are hankering to supplant their backstabbing cousins. Elven worship of either Reptilian Supremacy or Dragons would benefit the Master Race.

We should really get a better understanding of the Serpent or the Mother, as I think both would help us achieve our desire of Dragonhood, though I would be interested learning more about the Prosecutor as well.

>Yes, you will go to the drow to spread the good word of the Dark Gods

>>5288522
>I'm also banking a small hope that converting them to Death will count as a favor towards him.
I’m certain that’s not how our favor works (though if Death did tell us to do it, I'd be fully down for it).
>>
>>5288505
I'll cast my vote for
>The Serpent Ascending
or
>the Mother of Dragons
>>
>>5288743
If the Drow are matriarchal, Mother of Dragons is probably the best for their society (assuming the Serpent is more masculine).

As for the waifu wars only if she’s hot.
>>
>>5288505
>The Serpent Ascending
or
>the Mother of Dragons

Depending on whether their society is patriarchal or matriarchal.

>Yes, you will go to the drow to spread the good word of the Dark Gods
>>
[Pretty sure we ha e a three way tie between Death, Serpent Ascending/Mother of Dragons, and The Pantheon Package Deal.

Giving it another hour, then rolling if nobody changes votes or no poster (WITH a voting history) breaks the tie.]
>>
>>5289024
Problem of too many good options.
>>
>>5289039
[I gotta' work on that.]
>>
>>5289024
I'll change to Mother of Bugs
>>
>>5289024
Sorry to do this but I switch to None. Bug mother is least favorite.
>>
>>5289024
Frankly I think it’s a false choice with Schrödinger's god, since we really don’t know or interacted with any of the Dark Gods beyond the superficial level, except for Death. If we don’t have any context of the various gods or their internal politics, then we’re basically stumbling around in the dark (heh) in matters of faith, especially with converting people to the Dark side.
>>
>>5289024
I'll change my vote to Death to break the tie.
>>
>>5289066
Forget my vote switch then. I’m riding for death.
>>
>>5288505
>the Mother of Dragons

>>5289066
It wasn’t a tie anon.
>>
>>5289070
Also, to explain my tiebreaker, >>5288747’s right about him not being ideal, and since he never call upon his favor here, I can only imagine that this isn’t what he wants as repayment. Ascending is interesting, but the real question is how fundamental is Reptilian Supremacy as his core tenant. Dragon has shown herself to be impatient, but I’m wondering if courting her favor with this move might just bring her back into the reptilian corner here.
>>
[Calling it! Post incoming. I'll attempt to intention-blend a little.]
>>
>>5289077
>right about him not being ideal
And by him I mean Death.
>>
>>5289070
>>5289067
>>5289077
>>5289078
>>5289080
Sorry about that. I'll stick with None then.
>>
>>5289103
No worries, even I had trouble trying to keep tally with the current vote. I only decided to weigh in when I realized we got tied again.
>>
>>5289070
>>5289066
>>5289067
>>5289049
>>5288893
>>5288751
>>5288747
>>5288582
>>5288547
>>5288522
“The Dark Gods are co-equal, you try to explain, looking to your senior intellectuals for confirmation.

They nod.

“They have no leader. Like apex predators, like sovereigns of confederates states, like…”

You can see the befuddlement on the face of the subterranean mammal-man as the Translator conveys this, and so you sigh and give up the effort to explain it. It seems these elves struggle with the concept of an alliance, or a faith, without a supreme leader. You lack the political or theological understanding to explain it as you would like, let alone with the language barrier.

“They want a patron god—something akin to Oberon, or their queen Titania,” the Elf-Specialist says.

“Who are they?” you ask, even more puzzled now than before.

“A mother and father goddess of the elven people,” Paeris explains. “The elven pantheon is a subset of the Gods of Light, and those two are… Like mother and father, king and queen. Their example of monarchs, who rule in turn, forms the basis for elven feudal politics.”

“Rule in turn?” you ask. “The female rules? Like among…”

‘Among insects,’ you almost say.

“…Like a matriarchy?”

“Not quite, Dragonborn,” the Elf-Specialist says. “The elves are neither matriarchal nor patriarchal, on the surface. They are egalitarian, androgene. Males rule for a season of politics, then females; king, then queen.”

“This is how it is on the surface, traditionally,” Paeris confirms. “though in recent eras, the male-dominated magocracy is preeminent. Who can say how these dark elves do things, though?”

Absolute madness! How can you explain a sensible faith to such barbarians? Perhaps you should just put forth Death, as the only God you have personal knowledge of? Maybe you can even thus pay off your debt…

But then, inspiration strikes.
>>
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>>5289112
“Tell the dark elf that the most prominent God is the Serpent Ascending, and that the most prominent goddess is the Mother of Dragons,” you say.

Glowie claps her hands together and rattles happily at your choice of her ‘grandmother’, while the intellectuals nod and shrug; the Novice tilts her head, as if admiring the ploy.

It makes as much sense as anything. The Serpent Ascending is a masculine ideal, in many ways: the will to power, to self-improvement, to status and glory for oneself and one’s people. He but has always been favoured by social elites and battlefield commanders who aspire to boldness and great triumph at greater risk. The Mother of Dragons (and Bugs, admittedly) is a fickle and flighty being, evidently, but she is also a protector, a defender-of-the-home, a rearer-of-young, and easily the most preeminent Dark Goddess; very feminine, very queenly.

The dark elf scout considers this for a time, then nods sagely and says something.

“He says that the Mother of Dragons must be in-charge, then, given the season,” the Translator supplies.

“Sure,” you say, a little exasperated, “why not?”

It is a two-day journey into deeper darkness before you will reach the outermost elven encampment of any size, you are informed. However, along the way you pick up several other scouts, individually or in small groups. Some stay but briefly, conversing with the scout who leads you and watching you with wariness or interest; some join up with you. A few have with them large, hairy spiders, almost the size of the Junior Novice, or large earwig-like creatures. Glowie looks at these with excitement, particularly unsettled by the spiders; when they draw near, she clutches to your armour and hides behind you, drawing sniggers from the group. You get the feeling they think her your chosen patron among the elites, the daughter of some connection in the Serpent Priesthood… Maybe even a mate.

You occasionally get the half-formed idea that Glowie holds similar notions, but you maintain a safe distance from such dangerous ideas within the temple of your own mind and body.

As your journey deeper, what do you do? Choose only two (write-ins which combine multiple may result in reduced efficacy):
>Get the know the dark elves better, and learn their language and culture
>Practice language lessons with Glowie,a n detach her your script [specify if you wish to discuss anything with her in particular]
>Practice fleshweaving with the Novice
>Archery practice with the lads
>Attempt to commune with a Dark God (specify which, and what questions or requests you have for them)
>Attempt to divine what lies ahead
>Write-in
>>
>>5289114
>Get the know the dark elves better, and learn their language and culture
>Practice fleshweaving with the Novice
Nicely done RQM!
>>
>>5289114
>Attempt to divine what lies ahead
>Get the know the dark elves better, and learn their language and culture
>>
>>5289114
>Get the know the dark elves better, and learn their language and culture
>Archery practice with the lads
>>
>>5289138
Supporting

And well done working that out RQM
>>
>>5289114
>Get the know the dark elves better, and learn their language and culture
beeg brain

>Archery practice with the lads
disregard thots
acquire martial prowess and brotherly comradery
>>
>>5289114
>Practice language lessons with Glowie,a n detach her your script
was meant to be >and teach her your script

[If that wasn't clear. I am the worst proofreader.]
>>
>>5289114
>Archery practice with the lads
>Attempt to divine what lies ahead
>>
>>5289303
Fitting for the subject matter, Glowie ;^)
>>
>>5289114
>Get the know the dark elves better, and learn their language and culture
>Archery practice with the lads

Ok guys, when are we putting AntiPaladin in my AntiPaladin quest?
What god should we pledge to? Which one fit our playstyle so far (Magical Warrior priorising diplomacy... Baleful Beholder?)
>>
>>5289335
Can we at least know more about each god before we decide? Jesus, stop trying to speedrun this quest.
>>
>>5289335
[I'm happy to allow you to get a divine patron whenever people vote for it.... But then, you may want to vote to commune with a god, eh? Until then, you're still a fine Dragon Shaman and unholy warrior, and we're only on thread 1. Worst case scenario: being IRRELIGIOUS is sort of the opposite of a paladin.]
>>
>>5289369
Not the right time to commune; the pyrotechnical particles effects of ascencion to Paladinhood might cause some issues with the locals.
>>
If you’re still up RQM…

>>5289122
Changing fleshweaver vote to
>Attempt to divine what lies ahead
Just to expedite the update
>>
>>5289380
[Don't worry so much about expediting the vote this time of night. I'm hammered and drowsy. While my writing quality's spotty at bets, I sure ain't updating right now.]
>>
>>5289384
I think it’s clear that fleshweaving isn’t going to win, but I hope you have a nice night anyways RQM!
>>
Poor Glowie of course she took would fall in love with someone as based as us
>>
Don’t we have a guaranteed rank up if we train archery? Why not that instead of divination? We have an elf guide now.
>>
>>5289455
I feel bad about it but I’ll tie up the vote because I want the rank up.

>Get the know the dark elves better, and learn their language and culture
>Archery practice with the lads
>>
>>5289455
That’s a fair point

Changing this vote here >>5289208 from divination to archery to break the tie
>>
>>5289114
>Get the know the dark elves better, and learn their language and culture
>Archery practice with the lads
We spend too much time around Novice and Glowie. THE BOYS need our company too
>>
>>5289138
>>5289195
>>5289294
>>5289335
>>5289380
>>5289458
>>5289500
>>5289532
This rumination about male and female roles and ideals gets you thinking about your own self-improvement, and about the amount of time you’ve been spending with the two females on your expedition versus the worthy males who you recruited. You decide that you would be best served with some archery practice with the warriors of your retinue.

“That is a very wise and worthy notion, Superior One,” Paeris agrees as you notch your arrow and take aim at the target before you.

“But?” you ask, sensing it coming.

“But why did you bring the Drow?”

You loose your arrow, and narrowly miss the dead-centre of the target you have set up—a chitin-carapace shield, leant by one of the dark elves in question.

The Pit-Guard’s Apprentice laughs, and for a moment you think it is at you. However, you catch the Steeltalon shoving the half-elven one out of the corner of your eye.

“What, do they make you uncomfortable?” the Apprentice asks, as he fires his arrow. “They are your people, are they not?”

He misses the target entirely, hissing in annoyance, and starts to notch another arrow to try again immediately; his senior, the pit-Guard, hauls him back to give others their turn.

“The Reptilian Race are my people,” Paeris says, stepping up next. He fires an arrow, and strikes the target at roughly the same distance from the bullseye as you.

The dark elves jeer, drawing all attention to the three male scouts assembled on a nearby rocky outcropping, leaning against it or perched upon it, each with a bow at the ready.

Oluwadamilare slaps Paeris encouragingly on the back, stepping up to take his turn next. As he aims, he closes one eye and sticks out his tongue. He says nothing… But when he lets his arrow fly, it pierces the target through its centre, and sends the target careering off of the wide path along the chasm, and into the unknown below. The dark elves cry out, at first you think in outrage and then you realize in amusement and excitement at his skill.

“You know what he means to say,” Olu (so he is nicknamed by Paeris) says to the other Degenerate. “But Apprentice Pit-Guard, it is not so. The surface nations are so widely-dispersed, with so much room to grow… A human from the South is not like a human from the North.”

The Pit-Guard scoffs, taking next turn: They are more similar than a Dragonblooded One and a Steeltalon, or a Steeltalon and a Silkscale…”
>>
>>5289636
The elves set up the target—a block of some strange fungus-loaf, this time, mouldy by its colouration. The target is smaller than the last, but also less valuable. The Pit-Guard misses it anyway, cursing aloud.

“It is not that simple,” Olu says. “They have such room! In space like that, with wealth like theirs, small differences grow and bloom like a flower—”

“A what?” the Apprentice interrupts, confused.

“—and they can seem like even bigger gaps that those between truly-distinct races.”

The three Drow take their turns next. They take no time to aim—they lift their bows, notch their arrows, and fire. Each and every one strikes their target nearly dead-centre; the third even splits the arrow of the second, like some hatchling’s tale of a legendary warrior. As they return to their rock, each elf holds their head high… And each gives Paeris in particular a sidelong look of denigration and distrust. The pink-skinned half-elf keeps his own body language neutral, but all your other males fall silent.

“I believe I see,” admits the Pit-Guard.

“Mammals are idiotic,” the Apprentice agrees. “Better for us to conquer, though, huh?”

You take your turn last and, with careful aim, you manage to strike the target as well… Nearly as well as the dark elves.

>+1 rank in Archery; 3 total
>>
[more to come later, but alas, work calls]
>>
>>5289637
The next day, you decide to take the Translator and Paeris with you to learn something more of these ‘Drow’ and their culture, beyond a propensity for archery and a hostility t their surface cousins.

“I have heard that elves are very indiscriminate between genders,” you eventually ask, when small-talk is expended, “yet each of you that I have met is a male. Where are your female scouts?”

The Translator helps guide your speech, and you even attempt to form the words yourself. The dark elves are clearly fascinated to see a being like you, with such an alien face, speaking their tongue… Though you are not yet good enough at it that they do not turn to the Translator for clarification.

You narrow your eyes and focus on parsing the reply, seeking only confirmation from the Translator when the elven scout answers you. He explains, in summary, that the dark elves are NOT without gendered division of labour and social roles.

“Elfmen are better archers,” one affirms, to agreement from his fellows.

“Elfmaids are better magess,” another points out.

This results in more muted agreement, but none argues it.

“Why is this?” you ask. “I had heard that there was not a great deal of sexual dimorphism between the two sexes in elves.”

Aside from this, all these male elves seem to agree that females are too valuable to risk in the ‘outer reaches’, which you gather to mean to fringes of their territory.

This creates further confusion, until eventually the Translator is forced to call upon the Elf-Specilaist.

“Elves draw a distinction between sex and gender,” the Elf-Specialist explains. “They also hold there to be more than two—a sort of spectrum, embodied by their deities and encouraged in early expressions of self.”

“So ‘elfman’ and ‘elfmaid’ are… Roles?” you ask, completely disoriented by this strangeness. “And yet…”

You steal a glance af the lithe and smooth elven ‘men’, and still see no sign of the chest-protuberances which distinguished the Novice’s elven form. And elf catches you looking, and gives you a worried and confused look. You hastily explain yourself, as best you can.

The elf, in turn, answers your inquiry—the Translator is a great boon with the more difficult words, while the Elf-Specialist clarifies the concepts beyond his ken. It seems that any elf can be an ‘elfmaid’, but a BIOLIGICALLY female elf is most valuable of all—one with a womb and functional breasts.

“Our numbers are few,” the elf says. “We live long, mature and breed over long times. Sometimes even an elfman must bare children, if he is female in here.”

The elf pats his (?) abdomen, and you nod and pretend to understand.
>>
>>5289941
Aside from this strange sociology lesson, which frankly further confuses you as to the nature of their male/female leadership exchange system, you move onto matters of material culture. This proves easier to grapple with: it is a depleted one, even moreso than your own race’s, for their surface raids are less frequent and sophisticated than the Master Race’s complex and storied apparatus of Priest-directed Infiltrators and Traders. The Drow have primarily crude iron and the chitin of their tamed arthropod allies for hard materials, or else simply worked stone. For clothing, they use spider-silk and straps of leather—leather they source from “prey” of some unspecified but (from the look of it) mammalian source. They wear precious little of it, though, seemingly unbothered by the cold and too naturally graceful to fear scrapes and scuffs in their travels.

“What of protection in battle?” you ask, tapping at your own armour.

“Agility is more important,” asserts one elven scout. “Agility and cunning. Besides, the Devourer is always a risk if you carry much metal.”

“The what?” you ask, a little alarmed.

Alas, the Translator and Elf-Specialist can offer no help here—the literal word is “Devourer”, and the concept seemingly is not common to surface elves. It is... A touch unnerving.

The rest of your journey is thankfully uneventful, occupied mainly with further such cultural exchange. In time, you reach the elven settlement. Either their numbers truly are depleted, even worse than that of your own people, or this is simply a forward outpost; the Novice remains convinced of the latter, and by the lack of children you are inclined to lend credence to this notion. It makes sense: you are a race of foreign monsters to them, and you would not let strange mammals near a creche of Reptilian eggs in your own lands.

Though there are no elf-spawn, there are a feew ‘elfmaids’ present. By this point you were half-expecting to see more of the males in strange, ‘feminine’ attire, but instead you do indeed find evidence of biological femininity among these odd outcasts... Though, with a strange sense of disappointment, you note that they are not nearly so curvaceous in proportion as the Novice’s facsimile. Either her attempt was flawed from the beginning, or malnourishment and harsh youths have rendered these female elves lean and wiry, well-muscled for their small and slight frames. Their crude barracks and guardhouses—structures of rough stone, festooned with moss and fungus and occasionally silk cushions do little to soften these mammals’ natural edge.
>>
>>5289943
Each and every elf is armed, as with the men, and they watch your procession pass with expressions ranging from fear and hostility to fascination and awe; you, in your imposing armour and with your elven sword and bow, draw the most attention. You estimate there to be about two dozen milling about the centre of the encampment, where you are led to met their leader; maybe another dozen patrol the borders of this small base or attend to necessary tasks. There seems to be little formal organization—elves are assigned duties in vague terms, and perform them at a pace and with methods they deem appropriate.

The leader of this base is such an elfmaid as well, though not so androgynous as the others—taller, better-fed. You recognize a fellow aristocrat when you see one. She wears fine silks rather than leather—well, fine by the standards of these sorry people. The silk is greyed by cave-dust, daubed with dye dies to form patterns, but you see none of the intricacy of art for which you have heard elves are famed. She carries a crystal-topped staff of silk-wrapped tree-root, which has the look of an heirloom repaired and maintained over subsequent ages with local materials.

“So, you are the lizard-men who I have heard about “ she says, and you roughly understand. “I greet you. But… You bring religion and outsider gods—evil gods. Is this right?”

“Dark Gods, but not evil,” you say.

The Translator tries his best, but the Elf-Leader’s expression is confused. Do these elves have no separate word for these two concepts? Surely they must, being dark of complexion and living in a dark place? Do they think themselves and their environs more ‘evil’ than that of their surface kin?

“What do you bring us, that we should follow your gods?” she asks. “Why do you come to our lands and tell us to worship dragons and snakes, with nothing to show for it?”

That’s… Very direct of her. She wants, what—a sign of your gods’ might? A pledge of alliance and aid? Food, resources? She stares hard at you with old eyes in a smooth, uncannily youthful face, awaiting an answer. She is flanked by elves with queer cutlasses, just as stony in repose.

What do you do?
>Offer an alliance between your people, proposing to aid in military matters
>Offer some magical trinkets or weapons as a gift, and promise more (and other things, like food) in the future
>Attempt to argue theologically for the merits of your religion
>Assume Dragonshape and attempt to intimidate them into submission
>Flirt, and build a ‘personal’ rapport if you can
>Write-in
>>
>>5289946
>>Offer an alliance between your people, proposing to aid in military matters
A tame version of this. As we both hate surface, let's not fight and direct our justified wrath toward a common ennemy. We don't have to coordonate full fledge battles, but sharing informations and what little ressources we have or might gather on mutual outposts
>>
>>5289946
>Offer some magical trinkets or weapons as a gift, and promise more (and other things, like food) in the future
>Attempt to argue theologically for the merits of your religion
>Negotiate for Glowie’s colony to be formed in Drow lands.

She’s an elfmaid and therefore more likely to favor an approach of magic gifts. As for how to argue theologically clearly the approach here is to appeal to the Drow’s declining birth rate. The Mother of Dragons is a fertility god and would be a great boon to their declining people.

The Drow also seem to value silk as a luxury resource and therefore would greatly benefit from a colony of giant silkworms to be formed. I’m sure if we reveal Glowie’s and her races nature they will let her set up and it could be a start of a wonderful partnership between races. Glowie will be favorable towards us and likely put pressure on the Drow to cooperate in the future.
>>
>>5290004
Glowie would be missed but a colony is her end goal after all. We can fertilize her eggs or something if she really gets sad. Leave her something to remember us by.
>>
>>5289946
>Assume Dragonshape and attempt to intimidate them into submission

>>5290013
rope
>>
>>5290034
Why did we bother going through the effort of learning about Drow culture or even parleying with the Dark Elf at all if we were just going to threaten them as soon as we meet a little resistance?
>>
>>5290004
+1
>>
>>5290004
>I’m sure if we reveal Glowie’s and her races nature

Don’t do this reveal in front of everyone though, just their leader
>>
>>5290249
Yeah that would raise a lot of questions.
>>
>>5289946
>Flirt, and build a ‘personal’ rapport if you can
Best diplomacy is always playing the person.
>>
>>5289946
Also
>Don’t negotiate or reveal Glowie
These people aren’t even allies, we ain’t trusting them with a secret we couldn’t even reveal to our reptilian Chaplain.
>>
[We seem to have a very slight lean towards the plan outlined by >>5290004 at present but, given the wide range of vites so far and relatively few vites in, I'll leave voting open for at elast a couple more hours to see if any option attracts a bigger plurality than 2 votes.]
>>
>>5289946
>Flirt, and build a ‘personal’ rapport if you can
We have an [Appetite] we need to satisfy. Watch as the incels try to save themselves for the bug.
>>
I’m fine with flirting but can it please not be the only action we do? Somehow I doubt our 1d20 seduction skills are going to be very useful here.
>>
>>5290416
If you vote for flirting then I can vote for giving gifts and the theological debate (no Glowie negotiations, we’d need them to be steadfast allies with a solid track record before I entertain that notion). That sound good to you?

Hell, I wouldn’t mind going on a minor side-quest with them after we finish our kobold quest.
>>
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>>5290424
>I’m going to vote like a retard unless you take out part of your vote.

I’m not going to accept but I respect the hustle.
>>
>>5289946
>Assume Dragonshape and attempt to intimidate them into submission
>Flirt, and build a ‘personal’ rapport if you can
“Can your puny gods do THIS?” *Assume Dragonshape with bulging muscles*

Bitches love the muscles.
>>
>>5290442
Kek.

Please don’t take the troll 1 post tho RQM
>>
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>>5290442
>puny god
>transform, flirt

>>5290445
[I mean, if going for a flirt, it's a valid approach to making a good first impression. Besides, if I disregard that 1post vote, so too must I disregard >>5290034... For now, leaving voting open for another half hour, then calling it.]
>>
>>5290447
It’s obviously the other anon trolling because I called him a retard though lmao. Oh well.
>>
>>5290438
Honestly, I just don’t see much of a point in the other ones. Making alliances is probably above our pay grade, giving magical gifts may put us in the dog house (depending on the gift), arguing theology as a religious illiterate is just asking to make the Dark Gods into a laughing stock, intimidation is a ballsy(risky) move. Flirting would be a way to establish a favorable connection with the risk only being our pride.

>>5290447
What would be the gift, if we were to give them RQM?

>>5290449
Negotiating on Glowie’s behalf with elf-ape savages we just met is what I would consider a retard vote lad.
>>
>>5290456
>>5290456
>Not denying it
>>
>>5290460
>>5290460
>No counter-argument
>>
>>5290463
What do you mean no counter-argument? Your actions literally have no reason in them except cooming. You vote for the coom option first then justify it later. I literally know that that’s what you’re doing because you voted to take a trip into the breeding pits then justified it by saying “The chaplain already hates us” a few updates before. Now you’re concerned about the dog house from him?

And why would we not argue theology here? That’s the entire reason we came, giving up as soon as the elf queen says “hey convince me” is retarded. In my post I gave the basis on how we would argue theologically. She’s a fertility god, that’s all the Drow need to hear with their declining population. She’s asking about the benefits of worship not the goddesses entire life story.

I understand the Glowie thing, but why hold the other parts of the vote hostage?

I like coom too. It’s just that you vote for it when so consistently in the most stupid times.
>>
>>5290447
RQM, considering me supporting the Hulkbro vote, with the additional gift vote.

>>5290470
And to think, all you had to do was agree to the compromise. Oh well.
>>
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[Alright, locking vote and starting a post.]
>>
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Rolled 12, 5, 15 = 32 (3d20)

>>5290476
>>5290442
>>5290377
>>5290216
>>5290034
>>5290004
>>5289988
You are again reminded of your lack of formal religious schooling. It left you ill-prepared for Death and his requirements, and it now leave you at a loss for how to explain the benefits of the Dark Gods in a way that you can be confident those Gods would approve of and stand behind. You look to your cohort, and particularly to Glowie and the Novice. The former stress back, tail wobbling back and forth like that of an enthusiastic infant; she must be unused to controlling it, maybe even enjoying the novelty of it. The Novice looks at you expectantly, almost with anxiety, as if to say “what are you waiting for, Meatheaded One?”

You look back to this elf, the Drow leader, and gulp. She has not turned her gaze, not even for a moment.

“The Dark Gods are not… Bad,” you say, choosing a word which seems to translate more readily than ‘evil’ in this context. “They are, in fact, quite good. They will give you gifts, make you strong with their divine magic. They can help with your race’s fertility, crush your enemies.”

“Gods tell lies,” the leader replies, to an enthusiastically atheist chorus. Even the dark elf scout who was your first convert seems to lose some resolve at this assertion, and the resultant social reinforcement.

“The Dark Gods will not abandon their supplicants, if they be strong and righteous in their ways,” you assert, with confidence you do not feel. Glowie’s presence, though welcome in many ways, is a reminder that this isn’t always true.. Or, perhaps, that you and your race are no longer one to talk about how to earn and hold the favour of those Gods.

“Prove it,” the Drow leader commands, thumping her staff and pointing the crystal at you. “We are not moved by words.”

The leader appraises you, even as you do likewise to her. She is as compactly muscular as the other elves here, as smooth of feature, but she has an inner steel that stirs something of the kingly instinct in you—the recognition of a rival, and the desire to see them humbled and submissive. This in turn, stirs your <appetite> into action—you cannot help but imagine how such submission could be put to the test.

“Very well,” you announce, summoning your strength and focusing your inner energies into the casting of a spell. You begin to murmur the chant, almost like a prayer for success, though you know not to which deity specifically…

<IMPROVED DRAGONSHAPE>

…And you begin to grow, and swell. You shuck one piece of armour after another as you do, exposing bare scale and bulging muscle on your chest and arms, your flexing back. You do not hold back this time, but grunt with exertion as you push the spell of self-improvement to its utmost. Spikes, spines, and horns explode forth at your joints, form a beard of blades on your chin.
>>
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>>5290509
You take your helm from your head at the last, as lengthening horns render it an ill-fit, and your red locks cascade down as you shake them free. The elves watch in fascination, as do even your own forces. They’ve seen this spell in action before, but not to this sheer extent, nor without your armour to conceal the scope of the changes. You glisten like a coppery god, your scales taking on a true draconic lustre. Your Fearsome Presence swells force, your will made manifest, and its oppression weighs heavily upon each and every being present. Even the Novice struggles to keep her head unbowed, and to keep the not-kobold you named for her from fleeing. Glowie gasps and her tail begins to positively wag, as she stares at you with an emotion you can’t parse—almost a hunger.

>15

The elven leader stares you down as you turn your eyes back upon her red ones. She tries to look fierce, but you see them widen slightly.

“So?” you ask, in your admittedly-broken rendition of the local elven dialect, “can the gods you know do this?”

“Likely,” she says, trying to remain cool and controlled.

Then, she breaks the façade—you see her eyes trail down your bare abdomen’s musculature, lingering upon your impressive augmented physique, before meeting your gaze once more.

“…But it does not make it unimpressive, that gods can do a thing.”

You nod to your allies, and they instinctively jump to do your draconic bidding. Your intellectuals brought with them a few simple, but ornately-designed, religious charms bearing a simple protective spell against misfortune and physical harm. It is scarcely more protective than simple leather armour, but for those ill-sued to such attire, or who wish to maintain mobility, it can still be useful. For your part, you offer up one of your daggers—the more ornate of the two you looted on your day-trip with the Green Dragonborn.

The elven leader accepts the dagger directly, while she directs her two chiefmost guardsmen to accept the other gifts on her behalf.

“We will allow you to stay here for a time,” she says. “During this time, tell us of your gods.”

“We accept your gracious offer,” you say.
>>
>>5290528
>>5290528
The meal you are presented with by the dark elves later, around a pungent fire they start with dried fungus and moss, is scarcely better than your own rations in flavour, but it is fresher and full of much-needed moisture, and your waterskins and flasks are restocked. The Drow seem to favour cave snails as a delicacy, presenting the small, shelled molluscs and showing you to proper way to slurp out the insides without breaking the shells, which they stack. They are certainly the most flavourful part of the meal, and accompanied by tiny amounts of a rich, smoky cheese. Your people and the elves do not mingle overmuch, but you sit in speaking proximity to the elven leader, with the Translator close at hand for when your limited command of her language fails you.

“So this ‘Mother of Dragons’ will make my females bare many more young?” the elven leader asks. “And this Serpent Ascendant will make them into strong warriors, as you are?”

“That is… Yes.”

It’s correct ENOUGH, you’d wager. No point in complicating things.

“Then your people must be a big, powerful empire,” she says, watching yoru reaction. “Many in number, strong in your army.”

“Well…” you hesitate.

What do you say?
>Admit your people’s current condition of relative weakness, but emphasize that together with her people, you can rise to reclaim the surface and your past glories
>Play up your people’s strengths, downplaying the disadvantages you face and even lying in necessary
>Change the subject [to what?]
>Flirt HARDER [specify if your interest is primarily political, sexual, or courtship]
>Make an excuse to end the conversation so you can avoid answering directly
>Write-in

What do you direct your people to do, if anything?
>Let them do as they will
>Direct them to mingle and socialize
>Instruct them to remain apart and dignified
>Have them gather genetic material and intelligence that you can use against these elves if it comes down to it
>Write-in
>>
>>5290532
>Admit your people’s current condition of relative weakness, but emphasize that together with her people,

It’s not use lying to an ally. Emphasize we get benefits from the Dark gods but the opposition of the surface dwellers and the gods of lights complicates things.

>Flirt HARDER [Political]
Strike while the irons hot

>Direct them to mingle and socialize
A little hard with language barrier but translator can help.
>>
>>5290532
>Flirt HARDER [primarily political, secondary sexual]
Yea, better to dodge this question with a diverting distraction.
>Change the subject [Her people’s history and empire]

>Direct them to mingle and socialize
>Have them gather genetic material and intelligence that you can use against these elves if it comes down to it
>>
>>5290549
+1, but also tell the sneakier members of our party to
>Have them gather genetic material and intelligence that you can use against these elves if it comes down to it
>>
>>5290549
Supporting
>>
>>5290532
>Admit your people’s current condition of relative weakness, but emphasize that together with her people, you can rise to reclaim the surface and your past glories
>Have them gather genetic material and intelligence that you can use against these elves if it comes down to it
>>
>>5290532
>Play up your people’s strengths, downplaying the disadvantages you face and even lying in necessary
>Instruct them to remain apart and dignified

>leave quest for a couple days
>bugfuckers activated, as suspected
>foxanon is now pissing off someone else with his compulsive lies
Welp, time to throw the maggot off the fucking cliff.
>>
>>5290761
Lol
>>
Don’t be mean to Glowie. She really hasn’t done anything but get overly attached to us.
>>
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>>5290820
I stop reading whenever the deformed white worm is mentioned.
>>
>>5290761
>>5290651
>>5290557
>>5290554
>>5290549
“We are… Still mighty, as we have ever been,” you say.

Your eyes shift from this elven leader to your Translator. He meets them expectantly, waiting for your next words. You sigh. There’s really no point in lying to an ally, is there? The elves will learn of your circumstances soon enough.

“Maybe not AS mighty as we once were,” you admit. “The Dark Gods have preserved my people, but… The surface-dwellers and their Gods of Light have proved an obstacle and complication.”

You wait for this to translate through your companion, and then you see grim understanding on the Drow leader’s face. She nods.

“Betrayers,” she spits. “Oppressors. Fuckers of their on mothers and fathers.”

Her vociferousness—and the crudeness which the Translator attributes to this last phrase—surprises you from such a refined and elegant creature. You say so, drawing a small laugh from her. She hands you her chitin-encased drinking-bladder—a rather odd water-skin—and you sip of it… Then gag. The Drow leader laughs again, and says something.

“What did she say?” you ask the Translator, looking down at the strange, potent liquid.

“She said ‘bloodwine, for the strong, young warrior who flatters an old warrior like me.’”

The Translator is clearly none-too-impressed with the flirtation, but he says nothing to criticize you. It’s an accepted part of a Reptilian Infiltrator’s toolkit, after all… And while that is not YOUR role, the same can easily be said for a diplomat. You press on.

“Old? Impossible! You look as young as any elf here.”

You take another swig, force yourself to swallow the ‘bloodwine’. You think you taste earthy, fungal notes, and… Yes, that IS the tang of blood. What blood? Or… whose?

“I am almost at my hundred-and-fiftieth year,” she says.

“Ah,” you say.

Well, your people can live to two hundred as well, sometimes, especially among the upper castes, and also with limited senescence. Still, to her, you must seem like a veritable hatchling. Still, your flattery clearly warms her to you, and your instruction to your forces to ‘mingle’ helps build a wider cultural rapport and to put their leader at ease. It is such that as the evening goes on, the leader tells you of herself, and her people.

“Jazkarmel,” she says. “This is my name. But not QUEEN Jazkarmel!”

She laughs again at your question as to whether she is these elves’ preeminent ruler, the sound loud and clear, and she places elegant fingers on your chest to brace herself so she does not fall. You get the feeling that the bloodwine is doing a great deal of the loosening of her tongue on your behalf. You lack much of a constitution for alcohol—the same as the rest of your race—and even the small amount that you had has your head a little fuzzy, your stomach warm.
>>
>>5290887

“Then who?” you ask, not forgetting your mission. “My companion, the Novice Fleshweaver, she has a theory that your people are actually dwellers of the deepest reaches, and number much greater down in those depths.”

As you speak of her, you spy the Novice across the campfire. She is making polite ‘conversation’, albeit mostly through hand gestures and polite nodding, with some of the elfmaids, and Glowie is with her.

“We do not stay close to any one place,” Jazkarmel says. “We must move constantly, or use up all the food in one place. But… There is a place where leaders convene, and treasures are kept.”

Your lizard brain activates at the word ‘treasures’, but Jazkarmel gives you a playful shove and brings a thin finger to her full lips in a gesture that you are told signifies quiet or secrecy.

“If anyone asks,” she whispers softly, close enough that her warm, wine-scented breath brushes past your cheek, “I did not say that last thing.”

The conversation returns to matters of her leaders—a small, feudal dynasty descending from a deposed monarch of the surface, you gather. These people lost a civil war long ago, and that is what drove them to exile and desperation. You also learn of a point of cultural divergence between these elves and their surface-brethren which is of some interest:

“Yes, when my season of leadership ends, an elfman will come to take my command,” Jazkarmel says.

“And you will do.. What? Be his second-in-command? Go home to your… Treasure-vault?”

Jazkarmel smiles as you hiss-whisper the last word, then shakes her head. Her expression darkens, grows more serious.

“I will make him fight for it,” she says. “It is the way of things. Weak elves on the surface forget, but we down below remember. Oberon and Titania, may they eat shit, did not hand their crown gracefully back and forth. They plotted and schemed against one another, fought wars against their own spouse for dominion. Back and forth, back and forth. If one was too weak, the other would ruled for MANY seasons!”

You nod slowly, but then Jazkarmel sighs and hangs her head.

“If the queen loses or abdicates, though, so shall we other elfmaids,” she says. “Elf eladership must be in-tune. You cannot have male and female leaders at once. It is not done that way. But still, I will make him fight for it.”
>>
>>5290889
Your evening is not entirely spent absorbed in Jakarmel’s company, though. You join in the mandated mingling as well, to keep an eye on your troops. It is a good thing, too, for two particular events catch your attention.

The first is the Novice’s separate scheming: you catch her with her scalpel and a beaker several times, attempting to surreptitiously collect samples of saliva, hair, even blood from these elves—to brew potions or make and modify amulets with more accurate disguises, you’d wager. She’s proposed something to that effect earlier, but you had still been weighing the benefits and risks when Jazkarmel beckoned you to her side; not wanting to be rude to the more highly-placed female (and enjoying your usual mutual rudeness with the Novice), you had left without giving her an answer. It seems that the Novice took this as assent, or indifference, or simply made the decision herself and decided your consultation was not important. Now Glowie runs distraction, while the Novice does her dirty-work. She catches sight of your glare, and tilts her head as if to say “What? What’s the problem?”

The second event which draws your eye is another possible source of interracial conflict at this informal summit: Paeris the Degenerate. Being a pinkish-skinned descendant of a surface-elf, he draws a lot of unfavourable attention. The dark elves are well-behaved towards him when you are present, or their leader Jazkarmel has her eyes upon them, but as the two of you became absorbed in one another’s company and tales of your peoples’ history, you can see hostilities have continued to simmer in quiet exchanges of insults… Until eventually, you hear a crash and shouting in elf-tongue, and turn to see Paeris pinned by a dark-elf, both of them grappling. Paeris tries to kick himself free, but the dark-elf skillfully grabs his leg, tilts him into an unfavourable position, and catches him with a blow to the face,

You look to your other forces, fearful that this will blossom into a diplomatic incident… But, apart from Oluwadamilare, none seem terribly trouble. Even Olu looks to you for permission to intervene.
>>
>>5290890
What do you do about the Novice’s activities?
>Nothing—let her be, for her schemes may bear fruit
>Tell her to cut it out, and hide what samples she has taken before she is discovered
>Drag her off to lay into her in private about defying your authority

What about the brawl beginning between Paeris and the dark elves?
>Let them settle it—disputes are not uncommon among military males
>Direct Olu to intervene in aid of his fellow Degenerate
>Intervene yourself, on Paeris’ behalf
>Drag Paeris away, publicly reprimand him, and apologize to the Drow on his behalf

And what about Jazkarmel? Do you have further business with her?
>No, retire for some well-earned rest
>Yes—attempt to bed her
>Yes—you have another question to ask her [specify what question]
>Ask if she would be willing to lead your retinue deeper into their territory, to see this Queen of Outcast Elves
>Ask whether she might be willing to lend aid to your mission to subjugate the kobolds
>Offer her a formal alliance, and ask if you might do anything to help her race

>>5290872
Kek
>>
>>5290892
>Drag her off to lay into her in private about defying your authority
>Intervene yourself, on Paeris’ behalf
>No, retire for some well-earned rest
>>
>>5290892
>Nothing—let her be, for her schemes may bear fruit
I doubt this will be that much of a malice to diplomacy. If they ask about it tell them it’s reptilian customs.
>Intervene yourself, on Paeris’ behalf
Unprovoked attacks are unacceptable. If the dark elf wants to fight one of our party members he will have to request a formal duel, with Paeris choosing the challenge as he is the one being challenged.

>Ask her to make arrangements for a visit to her Queen at a later date.
Let’s not delay our mission for any longer. After completing it we can meet the Queen on the return trip.

>Rest after
>>
>>5290892
>Nothing—let her be, for her schemes may bear fruit
what >>5290923 said
>Intervene yourself, on Paeris’ behalf
what >>5290923 said
>No, retire for some well-earned rest
>>
>>5290892
>Drag her off to lay into her in private about defying your authority
>Let them settle it—disputes are not uncommon among military males
>Yes—attempt to bed her
>>
>>5290892
>Nothing—let her be, for her schemes may bear fruit. And whether they do or don’t, lay into her after her experiments are complete.
Gotta remind her of who’s in charge here.
>Direct Olu to intervene in aid of his fellow Degenerate
We’re comrades here, fucking act like it.
>Yes—attempt to bed her
>Ask if she would be willing to lead your retinue deeper into their territory, to see this Queen of Outcast Elves
>Offer her a formal alliance, and ask if you might do anything to help her race
I don’t want to go off-mission right now, but I’m fine with visiting this Outcast Queen after that. Test the waters about the alliance, see if we can’t nab us an ally against the surface for cheap.
>>
>>5291003
>let her be
>remind her of who’s in charge here
what did he mean by this?
>>
>>5291011
[I'm interpeting it as "don't interrupt her right now, but make sure she doesn't pull these stunts in the future."]
>>
>>5290892
backing >>5291003
>>
>>5290892
>Nothing—let her be, for her schemes may bear fruit. And whether they do or don’t, lay into her after her experiments are complete.

>Direct Olu to intervene in aid of his fellow Degenerate

>Ask whether she might be willing to lend aid to your mission to subjugate the kobolds
>>
>>5291003
Support, with
>Intervene yourself, on Paeris’ behalf
>>5290923 makes sense.
>>
Hey ReptoidQM, one question. Does this elfmaid have a dick?
>>
>>5291077
The Dragonborn has no idea, and wouldn't even know what to look for as clues.
>>
>>5290892
>Nothing—let her be, for her schemes may bear fruit
>Intervene yourself, on Paeris’ behalf
>No, retire for some well-earned rest
>>
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>>5291282
small error in your tallying there RQM, it should be like this

What I voted for - all the votes
What I didn't vote for - 0 votes
>>
>>5290892
>Nothing—let her be, for her schemes may bear fruit
>Intervene yourself, on Paeris’ behalf
>No, retire for some well-earned rest
>>
>>5291299
[One-post IDs breaking ties can sometimes be contentious. Mind tying this post back to your last vote? If not, I may still roll to see if the Dragonborn shoots his shot or not, unless someone else breaks the tie by the time I get home.]
>>
>>5291337
I'm the Kobold vote, but I'd support anything that isn't getting laid, including rest.
>>
>>5289067
Last post sorry I should said I’m at families
>>
>>5291337
I mean, I’d vote for the Dragonborn to take his shot and commit to the Kobold vote, but if you think I’m a contentious vote over the samefagging tism, feel free to ignore my ass and let the dice gods decide.
>>
>>5291384
[You seem to have another vote on record, so not necessarily Though that will tie it up again, amusingly, with >>5291342 / >>5291374 taken into account.]
>>
>>5290923
Supporting
>>
>>5291395
I guess I’m an agent of chaos then. Either way, it’s certainly going to be a spicy dream eh?
>>
Rolled 7, 20, 16 = 43 (3d20)

>>5291423
>>5291384
>>5291299
>>5291158
>>5291071
>>5291068
>>5291044
>>5291003
>>5291002
>>5290955
>>5290923
>>5290908
You make meaningful eye contact with Glowie and the Novice again; the former doesn't seem to understand the implication, just staring back happily, while the Novice pointedly ignores you. Well, let her do what she will—it may prove useful and, if it does not, you could just hang her out to dry. Plausible deniability is a useful diplomatic tool, also.

One thing you can't afford to let pass beneath your notice, however, is the matter of Paeris and the dark elves. You nod your head to Olu, and the Degenerate moves to your side. You advance in the scuffle, and the two of you flank the skirmishers. You take the lead, seizing two elves by their straps and wrenching them away with one hand each. Olu, meanwhile, helps up Paeris and guides him away. The Drow thrash about and make to retaliate almost by instinct, before settings sight upon your fearsome helm. Their eyes widen and they go limp, fearful of your draconic wrath – or maybe their commander, who now advances on them. She shows no sign of drunkenness now; you could not imagine THIS female having such a musical laugh as you heard earlier. This is the Jazkarmel who first greeted your assemblage.

“What is going on?!” she demands.

“This betrayer insulted us!” one of the dark elves you are dangling protests.

You look questioningly to Paeris. The Degenerate’s face is bruised, but he pulls away from Oluwadamilare to stand tall.

“I defended myself against your insults,” he says in surface-elven, earning him no favour here, “and, lacking a retort of equal wit, you resulted to fists.”

“You deserve no better, weakling!” the other dark elf says, attempting to pull away from you. You swing him into the other, disorienting them both with the impact and drawing a small measure of Jazkarmel’s ire.

“Then I suppose it is a shame that your fists proved as lacking as your tongue, mammal!”

“Enough!” you and Jazkarmel bellow in unison, each in your own native tongue.

[Diplomacy roll, +1 for your new rank in Seduction]
>>
>>5291544
>20, 16

You and your elven counterpart exchange another glance, and some of the warmth returns to Jazkarmel’s expression; you think you can sense her stifling a laugh.

“Put my elfmen down,” she says. “I will deal with them.”

“And I with mine,” you say with a sigh.

The experience, at the end of a long day, leaves you exhausted. It is a shame—your rapport with Jazkarmel had been growing, her voice softer and touches more frequent. You had been feeling a… STIRRING, and had considered acting upon it. Slim chance of that now… But then, perhaps this is a blessing in disguise, for while flattery and flirtation is one thing, to be suspected of fornication with a mammal would surely have hurt your reputation as a champion of Scalykind.

Instead, you channel your pent-up sexual frustration into a furious dressing-down of Paeris for his impropriety, once the elves have gone away from the place on the edge of their settlement where your own kind camp.

“You risk our diplomacy for what—to defend your bloodline? Degenerate, WHAT BLOODLINE?”

“Quite right,” murmurs the North-Merchant.

“Should have let him hang by the noose he thus fashioned,” the South-Merchant chimes in.

“I defend the Reptilian race, not the elven one,” Paeris says defiantly… Then turns his eyes down. “I am still a Reptilian.”

His dejection, his desire to overcome his genetic disadvantage… Well, it’s difficult for you not the empathize with that, given recent revelations about your own ancestry. You parroted the Chaplain without thinking, but now you tenper your rage and start anew.

“Quite right,” you say, “but you mist behave like a Reptilian. You cannot take such bait. Let your blood stay cold, Infiltrator.”

“Yes, Superior One,” he says.

“…And YOU!”

The rest of your gathered retinue recoils—save the Novice, who simply crosses her arms.

“We are comrades, fellow warriors and explorers. I chose ALL of you to be in my retinue, do not forget. I EXPECT that when your ally is under attack, you will not stand idly by, staring dumbly, like sun-starved geckos! Am I understood, Reptilians?”

“Yes, Superior One,” they all say in chorus—even the Novice, even Glowie as best she can manage.

“Now get some rest,” you say. “We will need it.”
>>
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>>5291551

Your forces disperse for they will be sleeping. Glowie alone hovers nearby, almost expectantly.

“What is it?” you ask.

Glowie struggles to communicate the thought, not for lack of vocabulary but for the (to her) strangeness of her mouth-parts. Eventually, she manages to form the words in a way you can parse:

“Your dragonshape is… Very nice. Such power… Such ROYALTY…”

That hunger is back in her expression, that intensity. Her tail lashes and lifts, and if you didn’t know better you’d think you sensed the signs of estrus.

“I liked it.”

You stare back, mind going a mile a minute and your preexisting sexual frustration bubbling beneath the lid of decorum like an overcooked pot. Your claws flex and unflex. You remind yourself that, beneath the superficial charms imbued by the amulet, this is an enormous caterpillar.

“Rest, Glowie,” you command.

Glowie’s tail lowers, as does her head in a small bow. She is disappointed, you can tell, but goes.

Were it not a disgusting sin and a sign of Degeneracy to waste seed upon the cavern floor… Well, suffice it to say, you experience no relief this night, and rest does not come easily to your body or spirit.
>>
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>>5291565

The next day, you confer again with your Translator and Jazkarmel. You do not apologize, not really; neither does she. You both inquire after one another’s men, and agree that the interaction will not affect your race’s diplomacy. Implicit in the proximity with which you stroll is that it will also not sour your personal relationship, such as it is.

“I have matters I must attend to,” you say. “A rebellion to crush. But… Perhaps when I am done, I could ask that you guide me to meet with your queen, while the season of your leadership remains in effect and your mastery unchallenged?”

The Translator slowly works out how to convey this, and you notice Jazkarmel narrows her eyes slightly at the mention of ‘crushing rebels’. Too late, you remember her people’s history. You freeze, trying to find a way to extract your foot from your mouth, but she simply laughs, and rests a hand on your shoulder.

“No every rebel is a good rebel,” she says. “I am certain these ones you are fighting are deserving of destruction.”

You nod—what else can you do?

“When you return a hero, maybe we can spend more time together… Journey down, speak more of your gods, and of the battle.”

Her red eyes sparkle in the darkness like twin flames, holding your own.

What do you say?
>Well… You don’t need to leave RIGHT away, and maybe there’s time for more cultural exchange, and a more thorough conversion of these Drow?
>Down, boy—you will not let your little heads run your diplomacy, nor your military expedition; you will go, and come back when your mission is complete

Do you do anything else while you are here? Choose ONLY one, if any, if you are voting to leave; chosoe two if you are voting to stay:
>Parley some elven weapons for your forces, and maybe some trade goods to bring home
>Check in on the Novice’s results from her experimentation last night
>Practice your elf-tongue a little more, in the hopes of increasing fluency by the time you return
>Settle matters between Paeris and his aggressors with a duel, to impress the elves with your martial prowess
>Attempt to commune with a god [which one?] to work a wonder which might properly convert these wavering heathens
>Gather information on some aspect of elven culture [specify one]
>Write-in
>>
>>5291570

>Well… You don’t need to leave RIGHT away, and maybe there’s time for more cultural exchange, and a more thorough conversion of these Drow?

>Settle matters between Paeris and his aggressors with a duel, to impress the elves with your martial prowess

>Practice your elf-tongue a little more, in the hopes of increasing fluency by the time you return

Finish Paeris character arc with victory he needs a win for confidence as reptilian. Practice elf tongue so we meet queen it goes good and I want diplomacy to lvl up we use it a lot it so far it might be close to level up
>>
>>5291570
>Down, boy—you will not let your little heads run your diplomacy, nor your military expedition; you will go, and come back when your mission is complete

Coomerism will make us seem less professional in our followers eyes (especially novice who has been somewhat challenging our authority already.) Its frowned upon for a scale champion to be seeking warm-blooded flesh.

>Write-in: Inquire about any unique types of magic they posses.
>>
>>5291570
>Down, boy—you will not let your little heads run your diplomacy, nor your military expedition; you will go, and come back when your mission is complete
>Parley some elven weapons for your forces, and maybe some trade goods to bring home
>>
>>5291570
>Well… You don’t need to leave RIGHT away, and maybe there’s time for more cultural exchange, and a more thorough conversion of these Drow?
we need sum fuk
uh i mean we need to seduce this elven matriarch to hold greater sway over her and by extension her society

>Practice your elf-tongue a little more, in the hopes of increasing fluency by the time you return
>>
>>5291570
>Down, boy—you will not let your little heads run your diplomacy, nor your military expedition; you will go, and come back when your mission is complete

>Practice your elf-tongue a little more, in the hopes of increasing fluency by the time you return
>>
>>5291570
>Well… You don’t need to leave RIGHT away, and maybe there’s time for more cultural exchange, and a more thorough conversion of these Drow?
>Settle matters between Paeris and his aggressors with a duel, to impress the elves with your martial prowess
>>
>>5291570
>Well… You don’t need to leave RIGHT away, and maybe there’s time for more cultural exchange, and a more thorough conversion of these Drow?
>Practice your elf-tongue a little more, in the hopes of increasing fluency by the time you return
>>
>>5291570
>choose two if staying
…ops.
>Settle matters between Paeris and his aggressors with a duel, to impress the elves with your martial prowess
Goes with >>5291683
>>
>>5291570
>Well… You don’t need to leave RIGHT away, and maybe there’s time for more cultural exchange, and a more thorough conversion of these Drow?

>Parley some elven weapons for your forces, and maybe some trade goods to bring home
>Check in on the Novice’s results from her experimentation last night
Trade goods and weapons are a wise investment, and we do need to have a talk with Novice now don’t we?
>>
>>5291694
This goes with >>5291689 actually, pardon the mispost.
>>
>>5291570
Forgot option 2
>Check in on the Novice’s results from her experimentation last night
>>
>>5291570
>Down, boy—you will not let your little heads run your diplomacy, nor your military expedition; you will go, and come back when your mission is complete

Mission first lads

>Practice your elf-tongue a little more, in the hopes of increasing fluency by the time you return

Useful if they are to be allies….or subjects
>>
>>5291570
>Down, boy—you will not let your little heads run your diplomacy, nor your military expedition; you will go, and come back when your mission is complete
>Write-in: Inquire about any unique types of magic they posses.
>Settle matters between Paeris and his aggressors with a duel, to impress the elves with your martial prowess
>>
>>5291575
>>5291612
>>5291626
>>5291636
>>5291665
>>5291683
>>5291689
>>5291694
>>5291696
>>5291699
>>5291701
>>5291704
>>5291719
“Well… Perhaps I can remain here with my force for a short while longer,” you say.

You are already a week and a day into your expedition, and still have several days’ journey to reach the kobolds… But these elves have restocked your provisions, and what can one more day, or maybe two, hurt? Besides, those bloodwine eyes move you, and to see them shine with delight at you’re your answer fills you with warmth.

The next day is spent primarily in conversation with Jazkarmel. You dismiss the Translator to attend to other matters after a time—your command of the language has improved, and the elven leader has an un-Reptilian patience with your foibles. Besides, the atmosphere is more intimate. Things never blossom into anything untoward (much as your mind might drift), but she once she grows comfortable enough to dismiss her own guard, she sits close to you. She takes your comparatively-massive hand in hers to guide it towards an object she points at as she explains the word for it, and you repeat it back. When you succeed, she smiles; when you fail, she laughs. Either way, you learn, and are pleased to learn.

“Tell me,” she asks, “did you stay here for the chance to learn more about my people and our language, or about me?”

You lean back slightly, considering your answer.

“Why not both?” you ask.

“Both is good,” she says with a subtle smile.

You spend the remainder of the next few hours speaking, as well as you can, about your mutual ambitions of power, of respect, of recognition and greatness for yourselves and for your people. She may be almost ten times you age, and a mammal, and a female, but you feel a kinship with this elf. You think it is mutual.

>+1 Diplomacy
>>
>>5291740

However, the next day you test that bond.

“A duel?!” Jazkarmel asks, in incensed incomprehension. “We settled this matter! The elfmen responsible have been reprimanded, lightly tortured, starved a day’s food…”

You nod slowly. Well, it’s more severe than what you did to Paeris, certainly, but no need to bring that up. These elves do not mess around.

“Still, I do not wish for resentment to build from unsettled business,” you say, and then with a bit of mischief you add: “and it will allow us to demonstrate our people’s skill to yours.”

“No elf here doubts the might of the Dragonborn,” she assures you.

“But of the Reptilians who accompany me?” you ask.

“It is a non-issue!”

“It will be fun,” you cajole her.

Eventually, Jazkarmel relents.

Privately, you think it will be good for Peris’ development—a chance to win back his pride, and to prove his mettle to his full-blooded colleagues. You train with him for the better part of the day. It is to be a duel of blades and brawn, not archery, magic, or spellcraft, and it is ideally to be non-lethal—neither of your contingents can easily replace losses, after all. Paeris’ strengths do not lie in this field, but you resolve to rectify that. You see some improvement, you think… But it IS only a day’s training.

When the time comes, both of the elves who two days earlier had brawled with your half-elven companion are present. They jockey openly for the chance to ‘humble the oppressor’ and to ‘rove the superiority of the elves of true heart’. In the end, it comes down to one of three options:

>Let Paeris choose his opponent, though it may be seen as dishonourable if he chooses the weaker (or is perceived to have done so)
>Let the Drow choose their champion, though it will put Paeris at a disadvantage
>Join Paeris in battle, or assign another ally to aid him [specify who] for a two-on-two bout
“Let us put our skin into this game, though, hm?” Jazkarmel suggests, as you are mulling over your options.

“How do you mean?” you ask, suspicious.

“Loser owes a favour to the winner?” she asks.

“I have owed favours to greater and more terrible entities,” you half-joke, thinking of Death. Still…
>Accept the bet
>Decline the bet
>>
>>5291751
>Let the Drow choose their champion, though it will put Paeris at a disadvantage
>Accept the bet
>>
>>5291751
>Let Paeris choose his opponent, though it may be seen as dishonourable if he chooses the weaker (or is perceived to have done so)
>Accept the bet
>>
>>5291751
>Join Paeris in battle, or assign another ally to aid him [the other Degenerate] for a two-on-two bout
>Accept the bet
>>
>>5291751
>Join Paeris in battle, or assign another ally to aid him [Me, the dragonborn] for a two-on-two bout
>Accept the bet
>>
>>5291790
The leadership shouldn’t get involved in a personal duel among the enlisted, otherwise diplomacy becomes messy.
>>
>>5291751
>Join Paeris in battle, or assign another ally to aid him [the other Degenerate] for a two-on-two bout
>Accept the bet

If they win degenerates will hopefully get respect of party
>>
>>5291751
>Let Paeris choose his opponent, though it may be seen as dishonourable if he chooses the weaker (or is perceived to have done so)
>Accept the bet
He's the one they wronged, he picks
>>
>>5291751
>Join Paeris in battle
>Decline the bet
>>
[Close vote! I'm leaving it until after work but, as is, we'll go for a 2 v. 2 duel, with a roll to determine if you participate directly or send Oluwadamilare.]
>>
>>5291751
>Let Paeris choose his opponent, though it may be seen as dishonourable if he chooses the weaker (or is perceived to have done so)

>Accept the bet
>>
>>5291828
+1
>>
>>5291751
>Join Paeris in battle, or assign another ally to aid him [the other Degenerate] for a two-on-two bout
>Accept the bet

It's a tossup if they'll win since melee isn't their specialty but they certainly have the most to gain from winning. They both need to prove to the other party members themselves since they're degenerates.
>>
>>5291751
>Accept the bet

>Let Paeris choose his opponent, though it may be seen as dishonourable if he chooses the weaker (or is perceived to have done so)
He can earn his honor or dishonor
>>
Rolled 11, 6, 16, 15, 14 = 62 (5d20)

>>5292409
>>5292270
>>5292105
>>5291952
>>5291915
>>5291895
>>5291828
>>5291790
>>5291784
>>5291779
>>5291773
“If you both want to fight,” you say in your heavily-accented elven, “you will both fight.”

The two Drow belligerents look up in clear shock at your command of their language, no doubt wondering how much of their insulting pre-battle banter you understood. That fear balloons as you step forward. You left quite the impression with your Dragonshape, after all, and even in your natural form you tower about two to three feet taller than even the loftiest of these dark elves, such as Jazkarmel. The notion that you are to be Paeris’ ally clearly cows the two elfmen.

Imagine their relief when you step aside for Oluwadamilare, the other Degenerate.

“You send me because I am a Degenerate as well, yes?” Olu asks.

“Yes,” you reply unapologetically.

“You do not wish a full-blooded Reptilian to suffer a loss? To bear responsibility?” Paeris asks, stepping into place beside him.

Olu is not ignorant, but he is fanatical, excited to prove himself. Paeris, though his loyalty is not in question, clearly views the situation more cynically.

“I chose Oluwadamilare as your second because I trust him to have your back,” you say, “and because you both have the most to prove. So… Prove it. To EVERYONE.”

Olu grins, and Paeris frowns slightly, but they both bow low. Turning around, they each draw their favoured blade: Paeris’ assassin’s dagger, and Olu’s wavy-,bladed Southland cleaver. The Drow males in turn take up their own weapons: one male dual-wields twin knives of flint, the other a spear; the latter is the wiser, you reckon, for reach is a key disadvantage to the small , subterranean elves.

You watch stoically as the battle is joined. On the other side of the circle of interested observers, Jazkarmel watches likewise; across the battlefield, as the combatants begin to circle and to take their first probing stabs and swipes, you and your opposite number meet eyes.

If she is nervous that she will lose the bet, she does not show it.

2d20 Leadership; if successful, the 15 DC of the next 3d20 will be lowered to 13
>>
Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>5292674

Honestly not sure how this is going to go.
>>
>>5292686
QM does the rolls himself. We probably failed on Leadership, but we passed the actual combat roll twice over.
>>
[>>5292686 see >>5283244 and >>5283369]

>>5292674
>11,6
>14
Your warriors begin the duel with Paeris following your advice as best her can: use his reach, attack in a frenzy if they draw near to scare them off, avoid being cornered or overextending himself to allow an opening. You ill-prepared him for a two-on-one battle, though, which is what he faces as the Drow gang up on the hybrid they see as the symbol of their traitorous kin on the surface.

>15

However, ignoring and underestimating the half-human proves a mistake. Though the dark elves quickly corner Paeris, trapping him in a nest of blades, this allows Oludamilare to enter the fray, springing forth with a couple long strides and swinging his blade with an echoing human war-cry. The coarse tongue catches them off-guard and, when the two Drow turn to look, the spearman catches the flat of the blade (lucky him, that Olu showed mercy!) across the face. He goes down, dazed.

The remaining Drow leaps to his ally’s aid, likely hoping to hold the human-blooded Degenerate at bay long enough for his comrade-in-arms to recover and rejoin the duel. He yelps a keening elven insult which rattles off too fast for you to catch the nuances, whirling about in a dance of blades that Olu can only desperately parry while stepping carefully backwards…

“Enough.”

The word is spoken in elf-tongue, by Paeris, with such gravitas that all turn to look. You all find him with a handful of the spear-Drow’s greyish hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat, where his assassin’s blade draws a single drop of blood.

“This fight is not to the death!” the two-dagger-Drow protests.

Oludamilare grins, and bull-rushes the distracted adversary, bowling him over and raising his blade high above his head, raised for a killing strike. The dagger-Drow cries out in mortal terror, closing his eyes… but no death-blow comes.

“Correct,” Paeris says, again in the elves’ own tongue, “and if you had kept that in mind and not reacted emotionally, perhaps you would not have joined your friend in defeat, mammal.”

The Reptilian faction of the crowd murmurs appreciatively, while the Drow groan and boo, bemoaning this defeat. They look to their leader here, Jazkarmel, as arbiter. You see her scrunch up her beautiful, symmetrical face, rub the brown of her nose, and sigh.

“The Reptilians are right,” she acknowledges, looking to her warriors with a sternness that dares defiance; they back down.

She turns to you, and acknowledges with some admiration: “We have lost.”

The Degenerates nod to their opponents, bow to you, and clap hands, grinning at each other in their battle-euphoria. They leave the ring, trailed by the glaring eyes their defeated foes… But none make a move against them.
>>
>>5292706
“Your warriors showed wisdom,” Jazkarmel later acknowledges. “It was… Not honourable, but honour gets warriors killed. It was smart. I respect it. Was this your command?”

“No,” you acknowledge, “But pragmatism is the way of our race.”

Jazkarmel looks at you in confusion, and you realize you do not really know the elven word for ‘pragmatism’—your attempt must have translated poorly. However, you are alone again, without your retinue, and thus without a Translator, or Elf-Specialist, or even Paeris.

“They are… Mixed-up blood?” Jazkarmel asks, struggling to find a word or combination-of-words to convey the concept of ‘hybrid’, which you will know.

“Yes,” you acknowledge.

“Are you, also?”

The question shocks you, and you do not answer, but her perceptive eyes tell you that she has already read the truth in your hesitation.

“Is this… Common?” The question seems innocent, but the elven leader holds your gaze with a discomfiting intensity as she asks it.

“…Not necessarily,” you answer. “Always for a purpose.”

“I see,” Jazkarmel says, looking away.

You both sit in silence for a time, until she glances sidelong at you, smirking ever so slightly.

“You have won the bet,” she says. “You are owed a favour. What is it you want, Dragonborn?”
>Her aid against the kobolds
>Her official conversion to the worship of the Dark Gods
>A magic item
>A locket of her hair
>The true answer to a question [what question?]
>A kiss
>Write-in
>>
>>5292707
>Her official conversion to the worship of the Dark Gods

We came here for that in the first place. I am tempted to ask more about there "treasures."
>>
>>5292707
>>Her official conversion to the worship of the Dark Gods
This'll reap the most long-term dividends-- maybe we specify she converts and also encourages her people too. If you guys really want to bang the elf dickgirl, we can do it after we've wrecked the kobolds and come back with treasure and glory.

I'll also support the kobold option.
>>
>>5292707
>Her official conversion to the worship of the Dark Gods

Ask her if she has a dick too
>>
>>5292707
>Her aid or her conversion

I do wonder what favor would we have had to do in turn though. And make sure that it’s to all the Dark Gods if conversion wins out.
>>
>>5292707
>Her official conversion to the worship of the Dark Gods
seems like the safest option
>>
>>5292707
>A kiss
>>
>>5292707
>Her official conversion to the worship of the Dark Gods
>>
>>5292707
>Her aid against the kobolds
>>
>>5292707
>Her official conversion to the worship of the Dark Gods
>>
File: piedad.jpg (4.81 MB, 5606x7000)
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>>5292741
>>5292890
>>5292879
>>5292840
>>5292741
>>5292727
>>5292716
>>5292712
>>5292711
In spite of your passing fancy for this elegant creature, you keep your mind on the mission—indubitably so.

“Piety,” you say, plainly. “open piety to the Dark Gods Below and Beyond.”

Jazkarmel brushes her fair hair away from her dark, smooth-stone features, and turns to face you fully.

“A big ask for a little duel,” she remarks, once more the noble-blooded leader and stern sentinel of her people—no more subtle flirtation or youthful playfulness. Her age and experience settles upon her like a cloak.

“You have seen my people’s might, and our cunning,” you say. “You have seen their gifts firsthand, and heard what they can offer.”

Still, she hesitates.

“…And you gave your word,” you point out.

Jazkarmel sighs, rolling her eyes.

“Fine, what will we stand to lose?” she says, converting half-heartedly. “Betrayed by one set of gods, we survived. If yours fail us also, we will still be here.”

Not quite the fervent zealotry one might dream of in a new convert, but it is something. You are no deeply-pious sort yourself, not even after having met a Dark God in person, but you attempt to lead Jazkarmel in a prayer; she follows along, though she struggles with your ancient tongue more than even you initially struggled with elf-speech. You hope the sentiment of the moment is conveyed to the Black Divinity, and pleases and appeases them.

“What now?” she asks.

“In service of the Gods?” You consider. “Spread the good word of their embrace and their gifts to your race?”

Jazkarmel laughs, and shakes her head.

“Foreign madness, to make me an outcast among outcasts? I will be overthrown by a mob of girls before an elfman even comes for me at the end of my season.”

You are stymied, frustrated, but she sees this and gently pats your talons.

“I will say my prayers, as you have taught me, and wait for a sign… A beacon of your gods. Come back a hero, Dragonborn, and we will go to meet my queen. She alone can make your religion the religion of my people.”

“You will speak in my favour?” you press.

Jazkarmel nods.

“You have my word,” she assures you, and you think you believe her.

You return to your tent that night, a small portion of your being wishing you had asked for a kiss. Yet another considers calling upon Glowie, in your frustration and loneliness. Instead, you take a deep breath, channel your inner calm and draconic dignity, and you meditate.
>>
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>>5292905
The next day, you and your forces leave this place, but as you go, you receive one final word of warning from Jazkarmel:

“The way you go leads through the territory of the Devourer, and you carry much steel,” she says. “Beware.”

You consider the warning as you proceed upwards once more, towards the surface by inches-over-miles, marching for another day before settling into rest. You still have no inkling of who or what this Devourer is… Or why it should be drawn to steel. Is it even real, or some elven legend? You see no signs of danger, despite being in the heart of this mythological (?) being’s realm.

What do you do? Choose two:
>Lead your troops through the danger-zone, counting on <Danger Sense> to alert you if you are attacked
>Rest and attempt to use <Guidance> to learn of the dangers in this place, though it will mean staying in the alleged risk-area longer
>Spread your scouts out, in search of this “Devourer”—you will lead a hunt, bringing the fight to it or else putting an end to the legend!
>Attempt to trace a longer course around the places where this monster is said to lurk
>Write-in
>>
>>5292907
>Lead your troops through the danger-zone, counting on <Danger Sense> to alert you if you are attacked
>Rest and attempt to use <Guidance> to learn of the dangers in this place, though it will mean staying in the alleged risk-area longer
>>
>>5292907
>Rest and attempt to use <Guidance> to learn of the dangers in this place, though it will mean staying in the alleged risk-area longer
We've been training for this.
>>
>>5292922
[Ah, good eye. I should have said:

>>5292907
>choose UP TO two

[One is fine.]
>>
>>5292926
I vote one to keep it simple. Like the good ol' daysu.
>>
>>5292907
>Lead your troops through the danger-zone, counting on <Danger Sense> to alert you if you are attacked
>Rest and attempt to use <Guidance> to learn of the dangers in this place, though it will mean staying in the alleged risk-area longer
>>
>>5292907
>>Rest and attempt to use <Guidance> to learn of the dangers in this place, though it will mean staying in the alleged risk-area longer
>>
>>5292907
>Lead your troops through the danger-zone, counting on <Danger Sense> to alert you if you are attacked
>Rest and attempt to use <Guidance> to learn of the dangers in this place, though it will mean staying in the alleged risk-area longer
>>
Rolled 12, 18 = 30 (2d20)

>>5293140
>>5293119
>>5292990
>>5292922
>>5292918
You resolve to traverse the realm of this purported beast—this ‘Devourer’—regardless of elven mumblings. After all, it may sound a fearsome thing, but you are a Dragonborn, bearer of a Fearsome Presence!

You’re not reckless about it, though. You make camp with your allies, posting a watch and attempting to divine <Guidance> as to what to expect from this dangerous realm. You close your nictitating membranes, allowing only hazy impressions of the world around you the penetrate the semi-translucent secondary eyelid, and command peace, quiet, and what relative solitude you can get in the camp environs. Your retinue obliges… Save Glowie, who sneaks back and sits next to you. She leans into you, in fact, until you give her a push and she simply settles in nearby.
>>
Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>5293162
>>
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>>5293162
>>5293165
>18
You let your wind wander, away and away from your current situation and towards that lattice of probabilities and eventualities that forms the flow of time and destiny. It is a difficult thing to predict the future, of course—it is why entire orders of Serpent Priests still must use their knowledge of the stars and seasons to help guide their own divinations. You get a sense, though, of three things:

One: the path forward which is fastest is, indeed, right through the purported zone of greatest danger, as you suspected. You are about half-way through it, and one long march without rest (or two days' travel, with rest) will see you through this zone.

Two: The danger is real. Something big, and old, dwells here. It is weak of mind, strong of body, and has fed on hundreds of warriors--some mightier even than you.

Three: This great danger is not yet aware of you… But something else is.

>79

You open your eyes, head snapping eastward—to the area below and behind you. Something has stalked you, beyond the expanse of your natural senses… But not these mystic ones. Glowie follows your gaze, sitting upright in wariness as she senses your own tension. Though she can speak—the ‘speech therapy’ with the Novice has seemingly been going well enough—she does not. She just looks to you, questioningly.

Nobody else seems to have noticed the presence, nor can you see anything… But you KNOW it lurks there. Not what it is, or even necessarily WHY it follows you, but there is… Something.

What do you do?
>Set a trap Glowie, to catch this pursuer in an ambush before it knows it has been detected
>Summon your retinue’s members who are currently on watch, and alert them to the presence
>Roar a challenge into the darkness beyond your vision, letting the damnable stalker know that YOU know it is there, and will not tolerate it any longer
>Call out a greeting into the black—perhaps this can be addressed diplomatically, as with the elves?
>Ignore it, and press on—it is not the TRUEST danger here, and if a scavenger seeks to pick at you in a time of weakness… Well, you’ll simply show no weakness
>Write-in
>>
>>5293170
>Set a trap Glowie, to catch this pursuer in an ambush before it knows it has been detected

We can always talk to it after it's been trapped. I suspect it's something related to the gods, though.
>>
>>5293170
>Call out a greeting into the black—perhaps this can be addressed diplomatically, as with the elves?
>>
>>5293170
>Set a trap Glowie, to catch this pursuer in an ambush before it knows it has been detected
>>
>>5293170
>Set a trap Glowie, to catch this pursuer in an ambush before it knows it has been detected
>Call out a greeting into the black—perhaps this can be addressed diplomatically, as with the elves?

Trap then talk
>>
I wonder how Glowie’s going to react when it’s time for her to found her colony. She seems really attached (horny) to us. At least we know for sure that she’s going to be on our side.
>>
Rolled 1, 17, 15, 7, 10 = 50 (5d20)

>>5293174
>>5293175
>>5293180
>>5293190
Stealth is decidedly not your strong suit—certainly not in your ceremonial armour—but you cannot risk tipping off this watcher-in-the-dark by calling out to Paeris or the Thief. You turn away from the presence you faintly feel, so as not to tip it off while you consider your options… And then, you feel a tug on your gauntlet.

“Not now, Glowie!” you hiss. “there is a… There’s SOMETHING in hiding out there.”

Glowie nod enthusiastically, and puts on the toughest expression she can muster.

“I can help,” she tells you; though her pronunciation is not perfect, her intent is clear. And it’s true,: she wears only her swaddled robes, and thanks to the Novice’s fiddling with her amulet, she even has access to her venom and silk, in addition to the martial arts training you provided her. Glowie can move quietly—you’ve noticed how soft her footfalls are, now that she no longer waddled in her Serpent priestess guise. She can scale sheer surfaces. She can fight, and incapacitate.

“Go,” you say. “Pretend to be returning to the main body of our force, then circle back in silence.”

She does, eagerly—but not TOO eagerly!—walking away as if to leave you to your meditations. You conspicuously avoid looking towards where you suspect your stalker is situated. Let it draw closer—even attack, if it dares! Glowie will be upon it , either taking it down herself or providing you an opening to strike it in the light.

[Rolling. Two dice for stealth and two for melee combat. 1d20 for enemy reaction, lower is better.]
>>
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>>5293424
You wish you could say that you felt the presence draw closer—that your divination or superior draconic senses detected your stalker’s approach. But… You didn’t. Your sword-arm was twitching, ready to draw your hidden dagger and to parry a blow or plunge it into somewhere non-vital to secure a capture… And yet, had it not been for Glowie crying out “Draygunburn!” in her garbled True Speech, you would have surely been seized upon and dragged into the night.

>1

Only at Glowie’s outburst, breaking her stealth, does the cloaked figure—nearly as bundled-up as Glowie herself—appear as if from nowhere before your very eyes. It is built like a hunched-over Steeltalon, bulky but compact, though you cannot say how much of that is the layered fabric and leather. Large spikes of—metal? stone? bone?—jut out of it at odd angles, and it grips a notched and battered stone blade of what you quickly appraise is dark-elf design. The long, grey nose and queer, pallid eyes of these cave-dweller prove it to be no sort of Drow with which you are familiar.

The not-Drow in its tatters-and-spikes hesitates, uncertain whether to attack you, to flee, or to wheel around to face Glowie. You begin to stand up, to take a step back for distance and to draw your own dagger, when Glowie takes your assailant, AND you, by surprise.

>17

You’d thought the worm-princess’s concern for your safety had spoiled her ambush, but what you had forgotten as that Glowie was not consigned SOLELY to melee combat: she opens her mouth and, with a chittering hiss, ejects a spurt of stringy silk, faintly glowing with her iridescent, adhesive secretions. It is a bizarre thing to see an outwardly-Reptilian female do, but you are hardly wont to criticize her, for the opportune blast of glowworm-goo catches your would-be assailant’s face and chest. It drops his blade and begins pawing at its face, trying to pull the silk away. You take the opportunity to give it a heavy boot to its cushioned midsection, inflicting no moral wound but sending it toppling down a ramp of stone, nearly into a pit.

>15

You bound after it, and as it starts to stand again, you are upon it, delivering a blow to its face to stun it and then bringing your blade to bear in a mortal threat. It screeches and grabs for you, to pull your body into its own—to impale you on the spikes.

“Fool,” you spit, “I am wearing armour.”

The watcher-in-darkness seems to realize this at the same time as you say it, though it surely does not understand your words. It struggles to free itself, to escape…

>10

But you hold it fast, squeezing it closer and pressing your blade until its exposed cheek, just below its eye and drawing ever closer to blinding it even as you crush the life out of its surprisingly-steely body.

“W-wait! Wait! No kill me! No kill meeee!” the stalker cries out in elf-speak inferior even to your own, finally relenting and going limp as it surrenders.
>>
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>>5293435
The commotion has begun to draw the attention of your retinue, several members of which rush to your aid. Glowie is already at your side, adjusting her coverings to maintain her disguise… Though, with the amulet’s improvements, she really need not worry.

“What… Is it?” the North-Merchant asks.

“I can’t believe it slipped past me,” the Pit-Guard grumbles. “I… Am shamed.”

You can understand how it managed—whatever this thing is, it has magic in it, such that it can disappear into darkness. You wonder what else it can do… And whether there are more like it.

What do you do?
>Spare it for the moment, and interrogate it [specify if you have specific questions]
>Kill it, and move swiftly onward—this scuffle may have drawn others of its kind, or even the attention of this region’s GREATER threat
>Take it captive, and interrogate it on the go [chance of it escaping]
>Write-in
>>
>>5293437
>Spare it for the moment, and interrogate it
>>Ask why it is following us
>>Ask if it has any relation to the Drow
>>Ask if it has anything to do with the devourer

It's stealth is formidable to be able to avoid everything except our divination. It's worth taking time to interrogate it.
>>
>>5293441
+1
>>Ask if there's more of them
>>
>>5293441
>>5293451
Ew a dwarf
>>
>>5293454
+1
forgot
>>
This could also be some kind of failed fleshweaver experiment
>>
>>5293437
>Spare it for the moment, interrogate
>Order Novice to examine the dwarf-thing's origins, WITHOUT impaling herself
>>
>>5293454
>>5293477
It could be something like a troglodyte or troll
>>
>>5293437
>Take it captive, and interrogate it on the go [chance of it escaping]
>>
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>>5293717
>>5293551
>>5293456
>>5293451
>>5293441
You will proceed after an interrogation, you decide. You do not wish to risk this thing slipping away before you can learn more about it, and this place.

“Why are you following us?” you demand of the thing, once it has been tied up with rope, and flanked by the Pit-Guard and his Apprentice to ensure compliance. “Are you Drow of some sort?... Some enemy or relation of theirs? Or are you to do with this so-called ‘Devourer’?”

The creature stares at you dumbly, and you sigh and try again in elf-tongue. When this fails, seemingly for genuine lack of comprehension, you summon the Translator and Elf-Specialist to your side, as well as the Novice Fleshweaver.

“You said before that the elves here use dwarven loan-words, yes?” you ask the Translator. “Is this creature a dwarf?”

“No dwarf that I have seen reheard of,” the Translator says uncertainly.

“It is too large,” the Elf-Specialist says with certainty. “It cannot be a dwarf.”

“Maybe it is some… Experiment, or hybrid?” the Novice suggests, eyes flitting to you for a moment as she considers the fact that this being might be akin to you in some way.

“Try the dwarf-tongue anyway,” you command the Translator.

“Very well, but I am not as adept in it as that of the elves,” the Translator says.

When the Translator speaks the guttural and halting speech of the dwarves, the bound creature’s eyes widen and it is quick to reply, to everyone’s surprise. It seems much more eloquent in this language.

“It says that it is no friend of elves or of the beats we call the ‘Devourer’, but is instead a sort of… Looter? Scavenger? Parasite? Lazy-one? The translation is unclear, as dwarves use the same word for all these things.”

“Is it’s a dwarf after all, then?” you ask.

“No—it merely speaks their tongue. It comes from deeper down and further away, it says.”

“Is it alone in this place?” you ask.

The Translator yammers back and forth with the being.

“There are others, but not many, or so it says. It says that if you free it, the others will be grateful.”

You nod slowly, not certain you believe this monster with its over-earnest expression and tales for grateful friends.

“Novice,” you call out to her, “inspect this not-dwarf. Learn its origins and nature.”

The Novice rattles eagerly, a rolling laugh as she advances on the restrained prisoner. It shrinks away, clearly unnerved by her excitement—you can’t say you blame it, in this case.

“And careful,” you admonish her quietly. “Do not impale yourself in your giddiness, Overeager One.”

“I suppose that If anyone knows something about getting too close to subterranean mammals, it’s you,” she mocks in return, careful o be quiet so that the others do not hear her insubordinate insults.

You scoff, and leave the Novice Fleshweaver to her alchemical examinations. You hear the being shriek and whimper.
>>
Rolled 10, 9, 7 = 26 (3d20)

>>5293786
While the Novice attends to her craft, you take the opportunity to enjoy a meal with the men, and with Glowie.

“What I want to know is what was that binding which covered it?” you hear the North-Merchant ask the South-Merchant.

“It looked like glow-worm gunk,” the Thief chimes in.

“That would be quiet the glow-worm, to produce all that!” the South-Merchant says, and he and his Northern equivalent laugh.

The Thief shrugs, ripping off another piece of jerky. Glowie looks at them with a neutral expression, but she reaches out and clutches at your hand in concern.

What do you do?
>Say nothing
>Concoct an excuse [such as?]
>Admit what Glowie truly is to the others—enough of this deception


Eventually, the Novice rejoins your retinue. She carries a vial, corked and full of a red-black ichor. You look past her, at where the strange prisoner—the ‘parasite’—still remains seated. Its cloth has been torn away to expose a body which still seems thorny in some odd way—spiked armour? It is breathing, in fact quiet laborious breaths, and you see that the rock around it is daubed with more red-black—with blood.

“Those spikes aren’t metal, or stone,” the Novice says. “They’re keratin. That is no dwarf. It’s some sort of… Barbed devil.”

“A demon?” you ask, shocked.

The Novice hesitates, and corrects herself: “Maybe not an ACTUAL devil or demon. Some… Aberration, or fiend, but a native of this plane of existence. A… Dark creeper, maybe. It’s magic, though. Mammalian, mortal, but magical. When I was taking my samples, especially removing a spike from its skin, it instinctively turned… Black. Camouflaged itself. It was remarkable, and at first I thought it a matter of chromatophores, but it affects clothing and held items, also. It’s definitely magic.”

“The deep earth holds secrets yet unknown even to us,” the Cartographer chimes in. “In traveling, making maps of the places near here, our scouts have seen and heard of strange things… And yet, we’ve never heard of these ‘barbed devils’ or ‘dark creepers’, nor this ‘Devourer.’”

“I suppose you shall have some interesting maps for your fellows, then,” you say as brightly as you can manage.

The way the Cartographer make sit sound, it is as if you are beyond the bounds of the known world, in this deep place. ‘Here, there be monsters,’ you recall such areas being marked on surface-scrolls you have looked over in passing. A chance for glory… Or death.

Your grim thoughts bear the bitter fruit of unpleasant prophecy, for it is at that very moment that the earth quakes around you. Every Reptilian braces themselves against the shaking, but you sense that it is more than the rumblings of the deep earth—an uncommon occurrence in this region, anyway. You cast your eyes about, searching for a source…
>>
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Rolled 5 (1d14)

>>5293787
>>
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>>5293791
It comes with speed which belies its sheer magnitude. Rusty-red carapace, pitted and rough with age and constant damage and regrowth, form a titanic shield-wall before you as a creature the size of a dragon of legend and the shape of some great armadillo hauls itself out of the deep chasm behind the prisoner. The Pit-Guard and Apprentice narrowly avoid the path of its rampage, the monstrous prisoner hurling itself imply to one side and lying there, keening… But the terror which has crawled out of the deep earth ignores the barbed devil, setting its two great, segmented eyes on you and yours.

“This is what it scavenges after,” the Novice says, staring at the incoming wall of chitin and malice. “A giant rust-monster.”

>10

You mystic instinct explodes into action, mana flooding your body and moving your muscles and tendons faster than conscious thought as you narrowly dodge the burst of dust and debris which announces the arrival of the great mass of exoskeletal armour. You grab hold of the Novice, clutching her tight to you as you roll out of the way. She cries out, but does not resist, in afct clinging to you.

>5

The cartographer is not as lucky. Your words to him a moment ago, about reporting back to his fellows, seem a grim irony now. This new being—the Devourer, you assume, which is INDEED some enormous species of rust-monster, twentyfold the size of the scavenging creatures your people sometimes hunt and kill for sustenance closer to home—is upon him, seizing him in its strangely-tetrapod jaws and beginning to crush the screaming Silkscale even as its huge, frond-like feelers search his body for metal.

What do you do?
>Leap to the Cartographer’s aid—there is still time to save him!
>Run! The Cartographer is probably doomed, but you can rally your forces and escape this place before it is too late for the rest of you
>Take advantage of the distraction to ready yourself for battle, sacrificing the Cartographer to attack the Devourer [specify if you have a tactic in mind]
>Write-in
>>
>>5293787
>Say nothing

>>5293813
>Leap to the Cartographer’s aid—there is still time to save him!
Dragonshape the bitch!
>>
>>5293787
>Say nothing
>Take advantage of the distraction to ready yourself for battle, sacrificing the Cartographer to attack the Devourer [specify if you have a tactic in mind]
>>
>>5293813
>Say nothing
>Take advantage of the distraction to ready yourself for battle, sacrificing the Cartographer to attack the Devourer
>>Tactic: Order The Thief and The Bastard (fastest of the group) to lead the non-combatants away from the fighting, we will assume Improved Dragonshape and engage with the beast directly with the Pit-Guard and his apprentice by our side. Olu and Paeris will engage it from range.

There's not much we can do for the cartographer. We have to prioritize getting the other non-combatants our of here while we can.
>>
>>5293787
>Admit what Glowie truly is to the others—enough of this deception
>>5293813
>Leap to the Cartographer’s aid—there is still time to save him!
>>
>>5293813
>Concoct an excuse [Blame the Novice]
>Leap to the Cartographer’s aid—there is still time to save him!
Time to snap victory from the jaws of defeat- in this case from some fucking rust bug.
>>
>>5293813
>Say nothing

>Leap to the Cartographer’s aid—there is still time to save him!

>>Tactic: Order The Thief and The Bastard (fastest of the group) to lead the non-combatants away from the fighting, we will assume Improved Dragonshape and engage with the beast directly with the Pit-Guard and his apprentice by our side. Olu and Paeris will engage it from range.

Still do the tactic if we can but leap to aid
>>
>>5293877
+1, because we need Cartographer alive to map cool places out and help us return back home
>>
>>5293813
>Leap to the Cartographer’s aid—there is still time to save him!
yeah we already had posts saying we'd be lost as fuck without him
>>
Couldn't we use some of our metal to feed this thing and gain some advantage? Some expendable easily-replaced equipment like cheap make swords and knives could work
>>
>>5293917
It's worth a go
>>
>>5293877
I'll switch to supporting this. While I don't think we can do everything I said we should be able to atleast shout to the bastard and the thief to get people to safety.
>Support
>>
>>5293813
>Say nothing
They don't seem that suspicious, just curious.

>Leap to the Cartographer’s aid—there is still time to save him!
But shout to the others.
>>
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Rolled 16, 2, 7 = 25 (3d20)

>>5293975
>>5293971
>>5293903
>>5293892
>>5293877
>>5293866
>>5293857
>>5293829
>>5293818
>>5293817
“Thief! Bastard!”

They’re not the most noble titles, but your subordinates do not trouble themselves—they respond to your call, immediately turning to face you.

“Get our intellectuals and merchants to safety,” you command, shoving the Novice towards them.

She looks back at you questioningly, surprising you with her apparent concern. You shake your head, and order her withdrawal as well—there is nothing that she can do for you right now, whatever she wishes. She nods, and retreats, safeguarded by the two swift males you assigned to guide this retreat.

“Glowie,” you hiss, “go with her.”

The disguised worm-princess shakes her head, chattering a protest in her strange, alien vocalizations, before shouting “No!”

“You will reveal yourself if you fight using your abilities,” you state levelly, “and you are no use to me without silk and venom.”

Glowie stares for a moment, clearly distressed to leave you on your own, but there is no time.

“GO!” you roar.

She flinches, but then does as you demand.

The Pit-Guard, his Apprentice, and the two Degenerate males stand ready. Together, you are a formidable fighting force… In small-unit combat, against other Reptiloids or similarly-sized mammalian equiavlents. This enormous beats is something altogether different. But you cannot hesitate—cannot even take the time to assume <Improved Dragonshape>. Such an transformation takes time, at least 60 seconds, and right now a minute is the difference between life and death for the only member of your party who knows the way to the kobolds of Bloodrise, and who can reliably chart your course home.

“To me,” you growl.

The other males roar in the affirmative.

You leap forward, drawing your blade and charging…
>>
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>>5293997
>16

…And you manage to dodge the stomp of a massive claw, rolling to the size and plunging your dagger upward into the gut of the beats. It penetrates the hardy carapace, propelled by your mighty hews, and the rust-monster—the ‘Devourer’—cries out in a reverberating vocalization that sets the cavern to rumbling as if the plates below were splitting apart. You cover your ears and fall o the ground. Even this monster’s mere VOICE stuns you! Still… The cry of pain forces the Devourer to drop the Cartographer. He hits the ground awkwardly, most probably dislocating or even breaking his arm, but he is a Reptilian—he is fast on his feet, and quick to flee.

“Good,” you mutter to yourself, shaking off the shriek and standing once more. You look down at your dagger, rusted away to almost nothing by the creature’s blood. And the wound… Such a shallow wound! You drew blood, but barely. You throw the dagger away, and plan your next move. Your remaining forces, moved into position to cut off escape routes and to flank the massive monster, await your command.

What do you do?
>Draw your sword and <Jump> for a killing blow, while the others draw its attention—you will have only one shot, and it will cost you your sword, but if you succeed [DC 15 to wound, DC 17 to kill]
>Have the others draw fire while you power up your <Improved Dragonshape>, using the last of your mana to assume a form which does not rely on metal weaponry to inflict massive damage [DC 15 to draw to a stalemate, DC 17 to drive off, DC 20 to kill, won’t cost you a weapon but may compromise your armour]
>Draw your bow and fire from a distance, teaming up with your allies to whittle away at this thing [DC 15 to drive off, DC 20 to kill, failure will likely result in severe injury or death of an ally]
>Shuck some of your armour, and instruct others to do likewise, hurling disposal weapons and armour into the chasm to draw the beast away, then retreat [auto-success]
>Just book it out of here, with all your remaining equipment intact [DC 15 Athletics]
>Write-in
>>
>>5294014
>Draw your sword and <Jump> for a killing blow, while the others draw its attention—you will have only one shot, and it will cost you your sword, but if you succeed [DC 15 to wound, DC 17 to kill]

I would do the improved dragonshape action but I'm guessing that's a leadership action and so it's 2d20 with a DC of 15. Not good odds. I think we should do the jump action and pray for a 15 or above, it's a 3d20 which is decent odds.
>>
>>5294014
>Burn baby Burn- use Dragonbreath to burn him.
>Draw an ally’s sword and <Jump> for a killing blow, while the others draw its attention—you will have only one shot, and it will cost you your sword, but if you succeed [DC 15 to wound, DC 17 to kill]
I ain’t about to lose our special weapon before our we finish our mission!
>>
>>5294014
>Shuck some of your armour, and instruct others to do likewise, hurling disposal weapons and armour into the chasm to draw the beast away, then retreat [auto-success]
>>
>>5294014
>Draw your sword and <Jump> for a killing blow, while the others draw its attention—you will have only one shot, and it will cost you your sword, but if you succeed [DC 15 to wound, DC 17 to kill]

would it be 4d20 with athletic + sword combo?
>>
>>5294023
+1
>>
>>5294023
Supporting
>>
Rolled 5, 18, 16, 1, 8, 7, 19, 15 = 89 (8d20)

>>5294021
>>5294030
>>5294023
>>5294033
>>5294122
You think back to those times when rust-monsters of the smaller size were captured and cooked for your dining ‘pleasure’. The iron-rich quasi-insects were never you favourite, but they certainly baked in their shells well-enough… And, if fire was something to which they were vulnerable, well, you could facilitate that.

“Draw back!” you cry to your allies, and they turn to you, and as one Reptilian to do so. You step forward, facing down those deep-set orbs of multifaceted eyelets, and you take a deep breath. The Devourer steps forward, antennae wobbling about as it detects your own carapace—a shell of delicious metal. With a noisome clattering sound, it advances to consume you…

[2d20 firebreath, 4d20 jump+attack, 1d20 for allied response, 1d20 for enemy/environment]
>>
>>5294257
>18
The monster opens its maw, and you exhale right on cue, filling its face with fire from the depths of the Dark Gods’ own forges and furnaces. The Devourer devours more than it is prepared for. Trembling with agony and staggering backwards with a low groan of agony.

“Now!” you cry.

>19

Oluwadamilre and Paeris fire heir bows, peppering the beast with arrows. Most simply bounce off of its shell, careening into the shadows beyond your sight, but a few strike true, and the distraction is enough to allow you precious time to rush to the side of the Pti-Guard’s Apprentice.

“Quickly!” you demand. “A sword!”

>1

“I… Have a mace?” he answers, holding it up in confusion.

You curse your luck, for you are little-trained in this weapon… But damned if you’ll waste your fine, elven blade on this abomination, before you’ve even drawn it against your ACTUAL assigned adversaries, the Bloodrise Kobolds. You take the mace, and make due. You have no more time to waste.

You expend a full half of your remaining mana on a <Jump> which carries you high up , nearly to the ceiling of this especially-great cavern. You alight upon a stalactite, clinging while you wait for the Devourer to stumble beneath you…

>16

And then, like the hammer of the Persecutor of the Weak, you fall upon your massive adversay. You bring the amce with you,c rakcing the carapace of the enormous rust-eater right across the forehead. Blood splatter,s but you avoid being covered in it overmuch; you’ll need to wipe your armour clean to avoid corrosion, you know, but the gold filigree should protect it. The amce is not so lucky, but with two more hard smashes of its jagged edge, you at least get your money’s worth out of it.

The Devourer swings its whirligig-tail about, the fins swiping at you. You avoid them again and again, but eventually are forced to bail off of the beast’s back. It shake itself, as if to ensure you are gone from its back, and then with another bellow, it whirls about and starts down the side of the deep chasm behind you.

“It retreats!” the Pit-Guard’s Apprentice cries in celebration, despite his disarmament.

“Our prisoner retreats, also,” the Pit-Guards notes bitterly, and you see he is right: your bound, spike-covered stalker has liberated itself (himself?) from the corded rope by rubbing it against nearby cavern walls and its own body, and is now fleeing in a separate direction.

What do you do?
>Pursue the Devourer—to slay it would bring great honour upon you with the Drow
>Pursue the stalker—an intelligent adversary with a grudge and unmatched shadow-stealth is a greater threat in the long run
>Beat a retreat yourself—you need to regroup with the rest of your forces, and clean your armour, and you do not wish to be here when devourer or barbed devil return
>Write-in
>>
>>5294285
>Pursue the Devourer—to slay it would bring great honour upon you with the Drow

This would probably help with the future conversion effort a lot. When we meet with the Queen we can attribute our victory over the devourer to the dark gods.
>>
>>5294285
>Pursue the Devourer—to slay it would bring great honour upon you with the Drow. Grab another weapon.
>Tell the others to deal with the barbed devil. It must not escape us alive.
>>
>>5294025
Oh, and BTW, I didn't miss your vote. Sorry I failed to click on it!
>>
>>5294285
>Pursue the Devourer—to slay it would bring great honour upon you with the Drow
>>
>>5294285
>Pursue the Devourer—to slay it would bring great honour upon you with the Drow

Improve dragonshape before it still danger
>>
>>5294319
[You sadly lack the mana to transform after <Guidance>, >Danger Sense> and <Jump>. You can cast a regular spell, But <Improved Dragonshape> takes more power than you have left.]
>>
>>5294285
>Pursue the Devourer—to slay it would bring great honour upon you with the Drow
Grow our legend for now, the novice can probably concoct something useful out of the samples she took later on
>>
>>5294285
>Pursue the Devourer—to slay it would bring great honour upon you with the Drow
>>
>>5294311
+1
>>
>>5294285
>Pursue the Devourer—to slay it would bring great honour upon you with the Drow
>Send two most heavily armored Reptilians to tackle the Devil Hedgehog. Tell them to break off its spikes.
Time to assert dominance and take control over the situation.
Later also
>Order novice to fix the Cartographer
>>
I do not think we should face the devoured alone even if it’s wounded. That’s a pretty terrible idea in my opinion.
>>
>>5294577

Agree with this guy. Our reptile brain should kick in here.

We should instead pursue the devil hedgehog guy since we should be able to get some good intel out of him.

The devourer we can bait out and kill later on at our leisure with better equipment and tactics.
>>
>>5294582
No I still support chasing the devourer, I just don’t think we should do it alone like some other anons suggested. It’s really foolhardy to think we can beat that thing by ourselves.
>>
>>5294285
>Pursue the Devourer—to slay it would bring great honour upon you with the Drow

Defeat the beast - bathe it in flame
>>
>>5294618
How many fighters do we have again?
>>
>>5294285
>Pursue the Devourer—to slay it would bring great honour upon you with the Drow
>>
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>>5294630
>>5294430
>>5294351
>>5294319
>>5294314
>>5294295
>>5294311
>>5294500
>>5294582
>>5294561
>>5294662

You stand there, taking stock of your situation.

>>5294649
You have with you the Put-Guard and his Apprentice, and with the two Degenerates. Your other forces, primarily noncombatants but also Glowie, the Theif, and the Bastard, having all fled at your own order. IF you could just go to them, or summon them here, you would have enough forces to split, and to chase the barbed devil AND the Devourer…

But you have the forces which you have, and to split these few would be folly, when up against an armoured creature weighing several tons and capable of a stunning shriek and of rusting metal away to nothingness. Your own mana is reduced, your firelung stocked enough for perhaps one more gout of flame with the intensity of your first. You cannot let the Devourer get away—you WILL not lose this chance for a glorious and heroic return…

And somewhere, in your dragon-soul and in your spirit, you feel the pull of an instinctive draw. You have a brief flash of a vision from earlier…
>>5270658
…And you know, somehow KNOW, that this way leads to treasure.
>>
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>>5294674
“To me!” you bellow. “After it, warriors!”

A cry of acknowledgement and agreement goes up, and your men start after the retreating Devourer, which is already half-way down the steeply-declining chasm. You take a spare dagger from Olu and join them in the hunt. The great beast is crawling shakily but with the swiftness of its great limbs, using its uncanny climbing ability to approach a great hole which, being smooth-sided and narrowly larger than the Devourer itself, seems like to have been carved by your quarry.

Carefully climbing down the stone ramps and shimmy along shelves, lowering ropes and scaling the rocks in diligent spelunking fashion, your worthy males shall take easily fifteen to thirty minutes to reach the spot where the Devourer is right now, after only a minute or two of effort. Then, you will be hunting it through its own tunnel-system, traveling further and further from your other allies…

Or, you suppose, you could <Jump> down alone. This would use up the very last of your available spell-casting mana, but you’d have a plume of flame left in your chest, and your sword and borrowed dagger, plus your claws, and your physical strength… Such as it is, measured against a titan of old like this thing. If you’re lucky, or skilled enough, maybe your leap can bring your weigh down hard enough to pierce its brain in a single, gravity-assisted plunge? If not, your back-up will take a while to reach you and to provide aid.

You suppose the same could apply to the much-less-risky option of a well-placed arrow with your elven longbow… But it WILL be a difficult shot, to hit anywhere vulnerable, and more difficult still to pierce the monster deeply enough to be fatal. At least your elven arrows are treated darkwood, and will not degrade from the Devourer’s fluids.

What do you do?
>Travel down the chasm methodically with your forces, and track the beast back to its lair
>Use a <Jump> to attempt a finishing blow, or failing that to cut off the Devourer’s retreat
>Take a careful shot with your bow before the Devourer disappears into the tunnels
>Write-in
>>
>>5294675
>Travel down the chasm methodically with your forces, and track the beast back to its lair

I bet it has treasure
>>
>>5294675
>Travel down the chasm methodically with your forces, and track the beast back to its lair

Paeris is tracker right? It can’t be hard to track a giant monster.
>>
>>5294675
>Take a careful shot with your bow before the Devourer disappears into the tunnels
>>
>>5294675
What do you do?
>Travel down the chasm methodically with your forces, and track the beast back to its lair
>Take a careful shot with your bow before the Devourer disappears into the tunnels

Lets take a shot at crippling it or slowing it down, then carry on
>>
>>5294675
>Take a careful shot with your bow before the Devourer disappears into the tunnels
this is where we hone our aim
>>
>>5294675
>Use a <Jump> to attempt a finishing blow, or failing that to cut off the Devourer’s retreat
>>
>>5294675
>Travel down the chasm methodically with your forces, and track the beast back to its lair
>>
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>>5294807
>>5294676
>>5294685
>>5294694
>>5294689
>>5294695
>>5294727
You take a moment to aim your bow, shutting one nictitating membrane as you squint your other eye and hold your breath. However, despite all your focus, you cannot draw a bead on the giant rust-monster’s injured head past the giant hump of its well-armoured back—not from your current angle. You put your bow away, and follow after your men instead. You will have to track this thing back to where it dens.

You do not hurry—there’s no point. The Devourer is moving at easily ten times your speed, thanks to its ability to ignore vertical hazards as easily as if it were walking across a flat horizontal plane. Of your party, only Glowie (or perhaps yourself, with a <Jump> spell) could have kept up with it. Either it will stop short and turn to face you, or you will be in for a long trek; in either case it is more important that your forces arrive intact and with the energy necessary to battle the beast than that you reach doom and death expediently.

“Infiltrator,” you address Paeris, “can you track it?”

“underground tracking is not my specialty,” he admits, “but it does not take an expert to track something this size, so soon after its passing.”

Indeed, this does seem to be the case. The Devourer is long gone by the time you and your allies reach the tunnel-mouth which it had fled towards, but once you are inside, it is simply a matter of Paeris identify which claw-marks or carapace-rubbing are freshest, mostly by the relative lack of erosion or the present of recent chips and dust. You think even you could manage, albeit not as surely or swiftly as the half-elf. It’s good, then, that you have him along: the Devourer has clearly been eating its way through veins of iron, and has left a network of maze-line burrows in its wake.

As you walk these burrow-halls, you keep an eye out for treasure. You see your first glimmer of gold in an inauspicious place: a strange, muddy pile of crumbled stone and mucky bones.

“Faeces?” you inquire, scrunching your nose slightly.

“We’re truly ‘in the shit’ now,” Oluwadamilare jokes, grinning. “Shall I?”

Since he volunteered, you see no reason to deny the eager-to-please half-human Degnerate his opportunity to ‘shine’. He plunges his hands into the muck, pursing his lips but not once retching, and pulls out several gold and silver coins. They have a thin patina of tarnish, but are quickly polished to a shine that brings joy to your three-chambered reptilian heart.

“Purest and most precious of metal does not rust,” you say aloud, repeating an old aphorism meant to refer allegorically to the purity of distinct bloodlines… But, in this instance, far more literally applicable.

“Looks like an alloy to me,” the Pit-Guard’s Apprentice says, uncertainly. He catches an elbow and a head-shake from his mentor.
>>
>>5294934
“Let’s carry on,” you say, motioning Paeris forwards. “There is more where that came from. I know it.”

It takes you several hours of hiking before you finally slow. You are deep in the earth now—DEEP deep, such that you feel warmth creeping up rather than the usual dull, damp cold.

“Quiet!” Paeris hisses to you all, before looking at you with embarrassment and alarm. “That is to say… Please, be quiet. I think I hear movement ahead.”

“It dens near a place of warmth—near a magma vent,” Oluwadamilare surmises.

“Well then, let’s go teach this inferior creature what race owns the deep earth, shall we?” the Pit-Guard suggests, back straight and head high despite his obvious exhaustion from all the travel.

In truth, all your men look tired. It ahs been a long day, and one with no shortage of adrenaline rushes and onerous physicality. You are an athletic sort, like all the males here (even weedy, elven Paeris). However, the Devourer has home-field advantage, is mightier than any one of you alone, and while you have been traveling, it ahs been resting. It has every advantage, save the injury you earlier inflicted.

What will you do?
>Send a scout ahead, to put eye son the thing and better plan your assault
>Charge in as one unit, bellowing a war-cry and breathing flame, and attempt to corner the monster or drive it back into magma—whatever disadvantage you can create, so you can then slay it at leisure
>Sneak in yourself, and attempt to use <Guidance> to place an arrow between its eyes
>Try to bait the Devourer out into the tunnel-system, and lay an ambush for it [specify who will be bait]
>Write-in
>>
>>5294937
Oh, and a reminder: don't forget about your Titans' Strength potion. I keep meaning to include it in a default vote, but it is always a single use option.
>>
>>5294937
>>Sneak in yourself, and attempt to use <Guidance> to place an arrow between its eyes
>>
>>5294937
>Send a scout ahead, to put eye son the thing and better plan your assault
>>
>>5294937
>Send a scout ahead, to put eye son the thing and better plan your assault
>Sneak in yourself, and attempt to use <Guidance> to place an arrow between its eyes
>>5294975
Mmmm, I say we ||hoard|| keep it for when we need to clear out some giant rocks or something similar.
>>
>>5294934
>Charge in as one unit, bellowing a war-cry and breathing flame, and attempt to corner the monster or drive it back into magma—whatever disadvantage you can create, so you can then slay it at leisure

A simple plan is the best
>>
>>5294937
>Charge in as one unit, bellowing a war-cry and breathing flame, and attempt to corner the monster or drive it back into magma—whatever disadvantage you can create, so you can then slay it at leisure
>>
>>5294937
>Send a scout ahead, to put eye son the thing and better plan your assault

Running in with no info is suicidal
>>
>>5294937
>Charge in as one unit, bellowing a war-cry and breathing flame, and attempt to corner the monster or drive it back into magma—whatever disadvantage you can create, so you can then slay it at leisure
>>
>>5295057

This anon has the right idea. Backing this.

Charging in like a hot blooded mammal is a sure way to die young.
>>
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Rolled 8, 7 = 15 (2d20)

>>5295062
>>5295057
>>5294995
>>5294981
>>5295059
>>5295003
>>5294996
>>5294977
“Agreed,” you reply to the Pit-Guard, “but let’s not go charging in like a pack of hot-blooded mammals.”

The Pit-Guard deflates only slightly, but nods and concedes to your wisdom.

“Degen—Oluwadamilare, that is, you are the stealthiest of us. Go ahead, spy upon the monster, and report back.”

Olu nods his head, draws his bow just in case, and sets off. The rest of you hunker down, and wait…

[Well, that's the majority of votes in and a clear lean. Writing up!]
>>
>>5295108
…But you do not have to wait long. Within minutes, you hear a rumbling, as of stone (or chitin) moving against stone.

>8

“It’s moving,” the Pit-Guard’s apprentice whispers, nervously.

>7
The next thing you hear is a pair of twinned screams. One is Oludamilare, crying out in panic. The other is the monstrous Devourer, roaring in that peculiar way that turns bones to jelly, seizes your muscles, and makes your head ring.

“It spotted him,” the Pit-Guard states, unnecessarily.

“We have to help him!” Olu’s fellow Degenerate, Paeris, insists.

The two full-bloods look to you, less certain in the assessment.

“We could use the distraction to kill it,” the Pit-Guard says.

“Or to leave,” the Apprentice notes, grimacing at the looks he gets in return. “It is not cowardice! It is pragmatism!”

What do you do?
>Charge in heroically and rescue Olu
>Take the opportunity to slay the monster while it (probably) slays Olu in turn
>Leave; the Apprentice is right that, with, your cover blown attacking this monster in its lair is suicide
>You know… You could probably sue the distraction to seize some treasure and THEN flee, so you aren’t leaving empty-handed
[Specify what items or weapons you use, if any, as part of your strategy. Write-ins permitted, as usual.]
>>
>>5295121
>Charge in heroically and rescue Olu
And then slay it. Ez pz.
>>
>>5295121
>Charge in heroically and rescue Olu; have your allies conduct a probing attack in the front and use <Jump> to try and bowl it over onto its softer belly
>>
>>5295121
>Charge in heroically and rescue Olu
Just stab it with an ally’s sword, and maybe some firebreath if necessary.
>>
>>5295121
>Charge in heroically and rescue Olu
>>
>>5295121
>Charge in heroically and rescue Olu
Use our own sword. We can't disarm 2/4 of our allies.
>>
>>5295121
>Charge in heroically and rescue Olu
>>Use guidance to kill the beast with an arrow

It’s 4d20 I think and doesn’t break sword.
>>
File: 615cf1ce4daa7.jpg (82 KB, 715x489)
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Rolled 2, 14, 1, 13, 7, 5, 13, 14, 7, 1, 12, 3, 20 = 112 (13d20)

[3d20 archery (DC 16, running and gunning, DC18 for serious injury); 3d20 swordsmanship (DC 17 for sheer weight-class and amour of your foe, DC 19 to kill); 2d20 each for Pit-Guard and Apprentice, 2d20 for Paeris. 1d20 enemy response. Post incoming.]
>>
>>5295227
What a clusterfuck
>>
>>5295227
Whelp, that didn’t go well…
>>
>>5295227
>>5295189
>>5295180
>>5295166
>>5295133
>>5295130
>>5295123
“We’ve come this far,” you announce, drawing your bow and notching an arrow. “We won’t turn back now, and we will NOT lose a Reptilian agent to a damned FOOD-BUG.”

The Reptilians still with you nod. Their expressions vary, but each of their spines has steel in it—none of these warriors, selected for their zealotry to your cause and their martial merit, will abandon your cause now, even if some of them would readily have abandoned Oluwadamilare to his fate.

You roar a war-cry as you charge, your allies entering close on your heels and spreading out to be of greatest utility. The cavern you enter is warm, and dry, and you can see the faint glow of red iridescence against the opposite cave-wall; you suspect that there is indeed a magma flow running nearby, just out of site, illuminating the stone it touches with red heat even as it slowly subducts the stone into its molten ocean.

The Devourer has gathered up Olu the Degnerate in its frond-tendrils and is lowering his battered body (in rusted and degraded armour, you note) into its open maw. It stops when it sees your forces approach, and drops him roughly upon the ground, wheeling its massive body around to face you head-on.

“Ha! Fool.”

This is what you’d been hoping for, after all—to score a hit with your bow and its non-metal arrows right between the overgrown rust-monster’s bug-like eyes. However, just as you draw the bow back, the beast screeches again. You flinch, your shot flying so wild as to miss the monster entirely. HOW, in these close quarters?! It beggars belief! You curse yourself, and try to force your arm to move, to notch another, when…

“Look out!”

>1

You are too disoriented from the scream of the damned beast to see it coming—that propeller-like, whirligig tail-fluke, swinging around in a sweeping motion like a cudgel. You begin to move to evade it, but time slows down as you realize it is too late…

But something else hits you first, bowling you over. It is the Pit-Guard’s Apprentice, who cried out to warn you. He tackles you hard, sending you sliding on your back along the ground. You drop your bow and the arrow you were notching, but the fluke of the massive tail passes you by…

>1

But the Apprentice is not so lucky. The tail catches him in the back and sends him pinwheeling through the air, limbs akimbo. He smashes into the stone with a sickening thud that almost sounds like a squish, or a crunch, or both. You see him slide down, and fall in a heap upon the ground.
>>
>>5295252
>12

Paeris beelines for his fellow Degenerate, the partner with whom he dueled for his honour. He fries off arrows, causing the Devourer to rattle and groan, and to turn its face away as he extracts the injured, but conscious, dark-skinned half-human. You wonder, you force yourself to your feet, if the bond is a mammalian one—rooted in their imperfect bloodlines. Is that why you could not allow Olu to perish as a distraction, either? Or was it draconic pride? You have precious time to muse over such things, though—it is time for action!

Out of options, you draw your borrowed dagger, still reticent to sue your sword. You lock eyes with the pit-Guard, and exchange a nod. He draws his cudgel, a massive maul he favours, and the two of you charge with an invigorating dragon-roar towards the aberrant animal which dares to thus attack a Reptilian envoy…

>13
>14

You both dodge another swipe of the tail, but are unprepared for what comes next: the fronds, sense-antennae, wielded as weapons! You jump back, each of you attempting to strike in retaliation, but the feelers flail about and hold you at bay. You cannot even parry them, only dodge, for you know from your readings that their touch will destroy your blade—maybe even the non-golden pieces of your plate armour!

“This isn’t working!” the Pit-Guard shouts to you. “We need to try something else!”

>20

Before he can get another word out, the bulk of the Devourer surges towards him in a sudden charge. He cries out in pain and rage as he braces against it, throwing his shoulder into it rather than risking his only remaining weapon to the rust in a purely-defensive measure. He is thrown across the room. You aren’t sure if he is conscious or unconscious, alive or dead—you cannot spare the attention to look, for the Devourer’s hungry and harried gaze now rests solely on you.

What do you do?
>Use <Guidance> and leap with your dagger at this damned Devourer, aiming for the weak-point you made earlier in one desperate last act
>Breathe flame in its eyes to blind it, and retreat to retrieve your bow while Paeris (and whoever else remains) distracts it
>Swig your Titans’ Strength potion and meet the beast on equal physical terms, attempting to grapple and push it towards the superheated rock behind it
>Jump away, and command a withdrawal and retreat to safer ground
>Write-in
>>
>>5295189
>Swig your Titans’ Strength potion and meet the beast on equal physical terms, attempting to grapple and push it towards the superheated rock behind it
This seems like as good a time as ever. At worst it should at least get the Devourer away from our injured/dead party members.
>>
>>5295254
>Use <Guidance> and leap with your dagger at this damned Devourer, aiming for the weak-point you made earlier in one desperate last act
>>
>>5295254
>Use <Guidance> and leap with your dagger at this damned Devourer, aiming for the weak-point you made earlier in one desperate last act
>>
>>5295252
12d20 and not one success…
>Use <Guidance> and leap with your dagger at this damned Devourer, aiming for the weak-point you made earlier in one desperate last act
>>
>>5295227
Those really were some absolute dogshit dice.
>>
>>5295254
>Swig your Titans’ Strength potion and meet the beast on equal physical terms, attempting to grapple and push it towards the superheated rock behind it
Just finish this fucker and move on, I’m tired of this clusterfuck already.
>>
>>5295270
Yes, but they conspired to make this optional miniboss feel appropriately frightening for a mythical monster, so that's fine.
>>
>>5295254
>Swig your Titans’ Strength potion and meet the beast on equal physical terms, attempting to grapple and push it towards the superheated rock behind it

Good time to use it
>>
>>5295254
I'll switch to Titans' Strength potion. Fuck it.
>Swig your Titans’ Strength potion and meet the beast on equal physical terms, attempting to grapple and push it towards the superheated rock behind it
>>
>>5295272
>>5295279
>>5295285

Backing this.

If we're lucky, some of the lads will collect themselves and help us roast the fucker
>>
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Rolled 14, 4, 10 = 28 (3d20)

[Another fast vote! Potion it is. DC 10/12/15.]
>>
>>5295310
If this thing ever dies I want it’s head as a wall mount.
>>
Rolled 19, 4, 11 = 34 (3d20)

>>5295296
>>5295285
>>5295279
>>5295272
>>5295270
>>5295268
>>5295262
>>5295261
>>5295258
>>5295310
You had been wanting to hold onto your Potion of Titans’ Strength for a while longer. It might have been your hoarding instinct, or a sense that it would prove vitally useful later… But what danger truly waits ahead for you, except kobolds? And what kobold requires such strength to best? No, you may as well use it now—you may never even live to SEE these rebel kobolds if you don’t use it now! You pull the potion from your belt, hurriedly uncork it, and swig the contents.

The Devourer does not sit idly by while you do this. It does not understand what you’re doing, obviously, but you’d wager it remembers that you were the one that cracked its carapace across its forehead, and no creature would appreciate such an affront—certainly not an apex predator sued to roaming unchallenged. It lashes out at you with its tendrils, even as the thick, syrupy potion fills your mouth with an unpleasant bitterness. You raise your arm to shield yourself…

>10
And block the blow utterly! You stare in shock for a moment at how easy it was to catch the impact with your forearm, armoured though it is. Gradually, a sensation of warmth, faintly electrifying, fills you. You spasm slightly, but hold your stance as the power of ancient giants flows through your veins and permeates your nerves, tendons, muscles, seeping into your very bones.

You grin at the perplexed and startled Devourer. He reels back, but you have not just blocked the frond-antenna, but captured it in a clawed grasp. You are grateful for the gold plating along the claw-tips of your gauntlets, sparing your armour instantaneous oxidization as you cut off the monster’s escape.

“My turn,” you say.
>14
You release the antenna suddenly, and the monster’s own momentum carries it backwards as you bullrush forwards. You are mighty, yes, but you are still relatively small, and you slip under the confused behemoth’s frantic counter-attack and into its blind-spot. Once underneath it, youpress your hands into its underbelly and behn to drive forward,a dn to push upwards. You original goal is to push it back into the superheated stone—something you can do now, with yoru prodigious and uncanny strength, but… Welll…

>Not a 15

Your strength is the Devourer’s EQUAL, but not greater than that of this ancient horror, and your grip on such a foe is awkward and tenuous for the difference in size. As it begins to lash out more violently, you nearly lose your grasp on the thing several times. It’s all that you can do to hold it in place!

“N-now!” you roar. “Someone, anyone, take the shot!”
>>
Rolled 36, 88, 100 = 224 (3d100)

>>5295330
>19
Right on cue, an arrow sails through the air and plunges into the Devourer’s mostly-unprotected underside. It is followed by another, and then a third. Each sinks deep. The massive rust-eater has the same vulnerability as its lesser kin, with a squishy belly, lacking in armour. For the Devourer, this was never a problem before—what other entity in these caverns could ever FLIP such a monstrous juggernaut? It had nothing at all to fear…

Until you.

The beast shudders and thrashes once more, but you hold on for dear life. As the blood drips down from the arrows, you begin to fear that it will tarnish yoru beautiful armour or, worse yet, that the still-living Devourer will regain its senses and strike back once more. Your potion will not last forever. With a grunt of exertion that grows into a mighty, reverberating roar of conquest, you rush it towards the red-hot rock wall behind it and hurl it forward. The blasted thing lands helpless upon its back, bleeding out from its arrow-wounds even as it cooks alive from the heat. Its shrieks are paralyzing, a deafening death-knell… But only while they last.

They don’t’ last long.

You take a moment to catch your breath, feeling the potion’s strength ebb out of you and exhaustion and intense muscle-soreness set in instead. You turn to see who your savior was, and see bruised and battered Olu the Degenerate—no, Olu the Archer!—grinning back at you with his squarish, white human-teeth. In his hand, he clutches his peculiar, surfacer-made bow.

“We should keep its head,” he suggests.

You laugh, and cannot help but agree. Not wanting to be hasty, you wait for it to bake a little while longer first, to ensure its death. While the Devourer cooks, you attend to the Apprentice, and his mentor the Pit-Guard. Neither is dead, but the Apprentice is badly-bashed upon the rocks, scales split in some places and bleeding internally in others. He will need to be moved carefully or, better yet, tended to here.

And as for ‘here’… Well, you came in hopes of glory and treasure. Though hard-fought, you have earned the former, and now, you claim the latter as well!
>>
>>5295344
>88
You find not just gold and silver coins, but platinum, and gems, and countless other treasures undigestible even to a rust-monster! It is an entire treasury, suitable for founding a small KINGDOM, all in a few (admittedly putrid) waste-heaps scattered about the cavern in pits within the wall where ethe late, great Devourer saw fit to do its foul business. Cutting the beats open reveals only more of the same, such that you think that, in technicality, you are (currently, temporarily, until the wealth is given up to the Priesthood) among the wealthiest Reptilians in all the world!

>36
But that’s not all you find. No, you also find…

“Another potion?” you murmur aloud, more to yourself than anyone else.

Yes, to your amusement, your one, used-up potion is replaced by another. You have no idea what it might be for, but, well… That’s what the Novice is kept around for. You tuck it away for later examination. You can only hope it is as useful at the last.
>>
>>5295367
>100

But the last treasure you uncover puts all the others to shame. You know this immediately, intuitively, the moment you extract it from where it is embedded, in the great rust-monster’s gullet. Your hand settles upon its hilt—yes, hilt, as of a sword—and your draw it forth from its scabbard of flesh and mucous. The filth of its consuming conquers slides away without issue the instant you raise it, leaving it polished and pristine.

Instantly, the eyes of every conscious ally are drawn to it, as you hold it aloft. Its blade is white and pure, a single-edged blade like those of the elves, and carved from a smoothed stone rather than forged or folded of steel. Its hilt is golden and black, a match to your armour by curious fate. It seems faintly to glow, and then brighter and brighter, until suddenly it flickers, shimmers, and stops. You lower it slowly, feeling its otherwise-light blade heavy with a sense of fate and fortune made manifest. You, as with your allies, stare at it, and see faintly an image of the phases of the moon—that celestial body which you have never seen, but of course know of—imprinted subtly upon the blade, with the full moon at the base, and the shadow-equivalent, called ‘new moon’, at the tip.

“What is it?” the Pit-Guard asks, forgetting his pain in his awe.

You all turn to Paeris, for it is of obviously elven design. He is still looking at the sword wonderingly, and for a time doesn’t even register the expectant stares; when he does, it is with abashed uncertainty.

“I have no idea,” he admits. “But… The Drow may. It is certainly… Special.”

That it is. You can tell without being told. You wrap it in a layer of cloth, torn and proffered eagerly by Oluwadamilare from his own attire, to serve as a makeshift scabbard and to hide its faint radiance from those unworthy to see it.

Sorry for the delay, but I embarrassingly did not actually have a legendary item image ready for a roll of 100
>>
>>5295374
“My apprentice is still unconscious,” the Pit-Guard notes. “I can watch him, until help arrives.”

“And what if that damned barbed devil returns for you while you wait?” Paeris asks. “We would be best served traveling together, or sending one to go fetch the others.”

“Are you volunteering?” Olu asks. “I cannot. I am too injured to travel it alone.”

“Traveling alone, you will be as vulnerable to a spiny scavenger as I would be down here,” the Pit-Guard notes.

“But I am not injured,” Paeris retorts.

All eyes turn back to you. Your own eyes turn towards the treasure. You cannot carry a king’s ransom in gems AND support three injured (one unconscious) party member.

Do you send for help from the rest of your party, or go to meet them?
>You will travel slowly, as a group, bringing the Apprentice with you… Though you must leave some of the treasure
>You will wait here, guarding your treasure with the injured, and send Paeris to retrieve the rest of your retinue and bring them here
>You will go alone, leaving the rest here, and use your superior athleticism to brave the darkness alone, then bring the rest of the retinue back with you
>Write-in
>>
>>5295378
>You will wait here, guarding your treasure with the injured, and send Paeris to retrieve the rest of your retinue and bring them here
>>
>>5295378
How the shit how did you guys pull this off. I was lurking the whole thread and the moment I saw you all go after the Devourer I thought that we were about to wipe through low rolls. But then we somehow roll a 19 and 100 and win? Unbelievable.
>You will wait here, guarding your treasure with the injured, and send Paeris to retrieve the rest of your retinue and bring them here
Best to keep the best fighter watching over that which cannot be moved. Hopefully Paeris doesn't have to travel too far to reach the others.
>>
>>5295378
>You will go alone, leaving the rest here, and use your superior athleticism to brave the darkness alone, then bring the rest of the retinue back with you

We're the fastest here and the best suited for unexpected ambushes because of our danger sense. If we get lost we can always use our <guidance>.
>>
>>5295378
>You will wait here, guarding your treasure with the injured, and send Paeris to retrieve the rest of your retinue and bring them here
>Use divination.

Spiky man don’t seem malicious he a scavenger shouldn’t be prone to bold attacks. Let’s divine for him too we going to definitely rest after no point not to use rest of mana
>>
>>5295378
Can we all rest up here for a little while before we set off? Enough to recharge at least one extra spell.

>You will go alone, leaving the rest here, and use your superior athleticism to brave the darkness alone, then bring the rest of the retinue back with you

>>5295390 makes a compelling argument.
>>
>>5295389
QM was honestly pretty merciful when rolled low. When we got screwed over with the charge in roll I thought one or two of our party members were guaranteed dead.
>>
>>5295404
If you'd failed for one more round, at least one would have been
>>
>>5295378
>You will go alone, leaving the rest here, and use your superior athleticism to brave the darkness alone, then bring the rest of the retinue back with you
as anon said, danger sense makes us a good fit for this, and as a group the others should be able to keep watch and defend themselves

also nice we got a rustproof sord
>>
>>5295378
>You will travel slowly, as a group, bringing the Apprentice with you… Though you must leave some of the treasure
>>
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[Well, we have a tie at the moment, and it's been a long day. Almost got mugged! Plus, I did a lot of posts already. Think I'm gonna' hit the hay for the night. I'll post tomorrow morning or evening, depending on vote tallies and how I'm feeling before work.]
>>
>>5295378
>You will travel slowly, as a group, bringing the Apprentice with you… Though you must leave some of the treasure

Can we sacrifice whatever treasure we can't take with us to the gods?
>>
>>5295519
>You will go alone, leaving the rest here, and use your superior athleticism to brave the darkness alone, then bring the rest of the retinue back with you

Tiebreaker
>>
>>5295465
>>5295520
>leaving treasure
What are we, warm blooded?

>>5295520
>Can we sacrifice whatever treasure we can't take with us to the gods?
I imagine not, since
>currently, temporarily, until the wealth is given up to the Priesthood
indicates that is the sacrifice and since we’re going to be the anti-Paladin, we should totally try to keep all of it. A dragon is supposed to have a large hoard after all!
>>
>>5295378
>You will wait here, guarding your treasure with the injured, and send Paeris to retrieve the rest of your retinue and bring them here
>>
[Still a tie, I see! If it isn't broken pretty quick, I'll wait until after work and then roll for it.]
>>
>>5295767
I’ll break it. Might as well trust Paeris since he volunteered
>Send Paeris
>>
Rolled 2, 1, 1, 4, 20, 20 = 48 (6d20)

>>5295772
>>5295734
>>5295578
>>5295520
>>5295465
>>5295418
>>5295394
>>5295393
>>5295389
>>5295383
“Very well,” you say to Paeris the Infiltrator. “Go, but carefully—stealthily. I do not think the spiky-men are likely to be prone to bold attacks, but…”

And idea strikes you, and you hold a up a hand, gesturing for the half-elf Degenerate to remain in place.

“What is it?” he asks, confused.

“There is no reason to play guessing-games,” you reply. “I can seek <Guidance> before you go.”
>>
>>5295800
B-buh what the fuck is this going to become QM?
>>
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>>5295800
>>5295807
You close your secondary eyelids again and attempt to channel the last of your mana into divination again, to see what lies ahead and to chart a course…

>1 for Divination

…But all you get is another wave of exhaustion, this time coupled with a sharp pain in your head an a roiling in your gut.

“Dragonborn?” Oluwadamilare asks. “Are you alright?”

You attempt to respond, but instead end up vomiting, spewing forth potion-residue and your last meal upon the floor. Everyone is startled, including you. Your head continues to spin, and you grip the cave wall to steady yourself, while the others watch in concern. You reflect that the Titans’ Strength potion must have been down in that pit for quite some time.

“Did you see anything?” Paeris asks, after some time has passed in silence, save your retching and wheezing.

>1 for Leadership

“I… No.”

Your voice comes out as more of a gurgle, and your knees wobble. You take a seat, pulling them close to you to try to settle your gut, and you scramble to remove your now vomit-splattered helm. You glower at it. That will need polishing. The entire situation is not exactly an auspicious conclusion to this, your greatest battle.

“…Superior One, should I…?”

You look up at Paeris, who flinches back from your glare.

“GO,” you command, loathing the pity in his voice.

He obeys, but the experience is still humiliating. You steady your breathing, hanging your head so your shamefully-mammalian hair can hide your haggard face. For just a moment you shut your eyes.

>20, 20

Perhaps a desire to attend to whatever is now happening to you speeds the Degenerate Infiltrator along… Or, just as likely, you lapsed into unconsciousness longer than you thought. When you awaken, a Serpent Priestess with a familiar scent is being altogether too invasive of your personal space.

“Glowie, not now…” you mumble.

This earns you a swat of the Novice’s tail, as she continues to check your pulse and spread your eyelids apart to inspect your pupils.

“Just what every female of high breeding desires,” she hisses, “to be called by the name of some other, lesser female by her half-conscious—”

She stops herself from saying more, and you are soon unconscious again.
>>
>>5295812
When you awaken more properly, you see that your entire retinue has assembled in the Devourer’s den. You have been laid out flat on the floor, a pack placed under your head. Glowie—actually Glowie, this time—is seated next to you, her tail and rear pressed to your side and her back turned. You assume she’d be holding your hand if there were not so many here to observe her, and so much attention upon you in particular. It does not take the others long to realize you are conscious.

“Superior One!”

“Dragonborn, are you okay? Can you stand?”

“Fool! Do not ask him to stand so soon after a fainting spell.”

“What happened?”

“You did it! You cra — you Brave and Noble Ones actually did it, you slew that monster!”

You wave away the thronging Reptilians, and look about for the Novice. When you spy her tending to the Pit-Guard’s Apprentice, you stand—with Glowie’s aid, and that of the Bastard. This lasts just until you regain your footing, and shrug them away to go her on your own, walking under your own power. The dizziness is gone, but grogginess remains.

“How is he?” you ask the Novice, who looks over her shoulder at you as you approach, without properly and respectfully turning to face you fully.

“He will live,” she says, “with a week or two to recover, and some physiotherapy.”

“So he’s in no state to fight, then,” you note.

“Not even to travel,” she says, “though we can transport him.”

“Will potions help?” you ask.

“What potions?” the Novice snaps. “I can brew some if we but stay in one place long enough, and without distractions, but…”

She stops, sighs, and shakes her head. “They will speed the recovery, but not correct deep and lasting injuries. Not the sort which I can make with ingredients on hand, anyway.”

“What of the others?” you ask. “The Pit-Guard, the one called Oluwadamilare?”

“The Degenerate, Oluwa-whatever, his leg is broken,” she says matter-of-factly. “We improvised a splint from the chitin of the rust-monster you slew, but it needs proper medical care. He will limp for the rest of his life, without such care, and without rest.”

Your heart falls. You’d thought their survival was a boon to you and your expedition, but now it seems they are just as lost to you—militarily, at least—as if they’d died.

“And the Pit-Guard?” you ask, by now expecting only further disappointment.

“A hardy son-of-a-Steeltalon,” the Novice remarks, tapping a talon idly on the stone. “Bruised and tender, and his shoulder is hurt—the fool blocked a blow from that huge thing with his SHOULDER?—but it will recover. Until then, he has some limited motion in that arm, but give it a few days and he will recover.”

A small blessing, at least.
>>
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>>5295815
“How are you?” the Novice asks, after a time, not directly meeting your eyes.

“I’m fine,” you say.

“It was the potion,” the Novice confirms. “And you attempt to channel mana before it had left your system. There was… Something off about it. An impurity, or just age. It caused a reaction.”

What do you say?
>Thank the Novice for treating you, and for her concern
>Admonish the Novice for not picking that impurity up in her alchemical analysis
>Give her your new potion to examine and identify
>Tease her about what you overheard her saying as she was treating you
>Write-in

What will you do about your injured forces?
>Press on with all of them, albeit slowly, towards the kobolds of Bloodrise
>Travel with them back towards the Drow encampment, though it will cost you another four days there and back, and leave the injured there
>Remain here until such time as the injured parties can drink some Novice-made potions, then send the injured parties back towards the Drow, while you and your uninjured males press onward towards the kobolds
>Write-in
>>
>>5295816
>Thank the Novice for treating you, and for her concern
>Give her your new potion to examine and identify

>Remain here until such time as the injured parties can drink some Novice-made potions, then send the injured parties back towards the Drow, while you and your uninjured males press onward towards the kobolds
>Send the Elf-Specialist with them

There's a language barrier between the Drow and them so it would be best to send the specialist with them. I'm a little worried about how Olu's going to fare after he publicly embarrassed the Drow earlier, but it should be fine. The Drow should just be happy that we've slain the Devourer for them. Bring it's head on a spike for dramatic effect.
>>
>>5295816
>Admonish the Novice for not picking that impurity up in her alchemical analysis
>Give her your new potion to examine and identify
>Remain here until such time as the injured parties can drink some Novice-made potions, then send the injured parties back towards the Drow, while you and your uninjured males press onward towards the kobolds
I don't want him limping.
>>5295815
>He will limp for the rest of his life, without such care, and without rest
It's Bianchi all over again.
>>
>>5295816
>Thank the Novice for treating you, and for her concern
>Give her your new potion to examine and identify
>Travel with them back towards the Drow encampment, though it will cost you another four days there and back, and leave the injured there

They'll owe us gigantically for the devourer thing, lets use them as bank for now, we will need to stash our loot for the time being
>>
>>5295816
>Thank the Novice for treating you, and for her concern
>Give her your new potion to examine and identify

>>Travel with them back towards the Drow encampment, though it will cost you another four days there and back, and leave the injured there
>>
>>5295821
+1
Maybe instruct the Elf-Specialist to keep up the diplomacy, too.
>>
>>5295816
>Thank the Novice for treating you, and for her concern
Remain here until such time as the injured parties can drink some Novice-made potions, then send the injured parties back towards the Drow, while you and your uninjured males press onward towards the kobolds
>>
>>5295821
+1
>>
>>5295816
>Admonish the Novice for not picking that impurity up in her alchemical analysis
>Press on with all of them, albeit slowly, towards the kobolds of Bloodrise
>>
>>5295816
>Thank the Novice for treating you, and for her concern
>Give her your new potion to examine and identify

pretty unreasonable to admonish when it isn't even her area of expertise

>Remain here until such time as the injured parties can drink some Novice-made potions, then send the injured parties back towards the Drow, while you and your uninjured males press onward towards the kobolds

long enough should be less than a day, right? she whipped up amulets overnight, potions should be ez in comparison
>>
>>5295953
+1
>>
>>5295816
>Give her your new potion to examine and identify
>Tease her about what you overheard her saying as she was treating you

>Travel with them back towards the Drow encampment, though it will cost you another four days there and back, and leave the injured there
>>
>>5295821
Supporting
>>
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>>5295821
>>5295822
>>5295833
>>5295839
>>5295863
>>5295866
>>5295868
>>5295879
>>5295953
>>5296069
>>5296095
>>5296144
“Thank you for your remarkable show of utterly out-of-character concern,” you say. “And for caring for me, I suppose.”

“Well… It was my fault.”

You almost do a double-take at this admission by the Novice Fleshweaver, normally so arrogant and self-assured.

“Granted,” she quickly continues, “it IS outside my area of expertise, and you should KNOW to plan for some side-effects from a perhaps century-old magical potion.”

THERE it is.

“Still,” she says, lowering her gaze, “it was an embarrassing oversight. It will not happen again.”

“I should hope not,” you say, handing her your new potion.

She blinks in confusion, haltingly accepting the bottle.

“Study this THOROUGHLY,” you say. “I’m trusting you.”

“You’re a warmblooded fool, Degenerateborn,” she scoffs, but she meets your eyes again, and you see a glimmer of an appreciation there.

“Thank you,” the Novice says.

You feel that she means it, just as you did earlier, whatever your subsequent back-and-forth. It’s a ritual, of sorts, but it’s starting to feel like an actual friendship.

>+Novice relationship

You resolve to remain here long enough for the Apprentice to regain consciousness and for the Novice to finish studying your looted potion and to brew some more from her supplies from home and the mushroom and plant material harvested in the course of your journey.

“A whole day?” you balk. “We are already entering our second week of this journey!”

“And whose fault is that, elf-lover?” the Novice sneers.

So much for goodwill between comrades-in-arms.

“But you devised Glowie’s amulet in, what, a day?” you protest.

“In my own quarters, with a professional laboratory!” she shoots back.

“You modified it further as we traveled,” you point out.

“Modified—not made from nothing, not devised from raw materials! Look, look at my pack—do you think I can fit many bottles and beakers in there? An entire array of heating and cooling stones, a collection of reagents? I brought materials for simple field medicine, basic potion-craft. I didn’t expect to be doing the duty of an entire field hospital!”

“Then you should have recruited additional healers,” you state, crossing your arms.

The Novice hisses, throws up her arms in a gesture of frustration, and swings her tail at you. You dodge, and ignore her tantrum. She returns to her work, you return to yours. Some things, it seems, never change.
>>
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>>5296442
Your ‘work’ consists of harvesting the flesh of the Devourer, and removing the head to serve as a trophy. It is undersized for the great beast’s body, but still easily the size of your torso, and quite heavy. You hollow it of neural ganglia and fleshy components (including an internal skeleton! bizarre!) to make it easier to carry, and you explain the plan to your men.

“Archer Oluwadamilare,” you address him, “you and the Pit-Guard will take his Apprentcie back to the Drow.”

They look as if you had consigned them to execution.

“Better I’d have died,” the Pit-Guard hisses.

“Superior One,” Olu attempts to reason with you, looking almost pale, “Please! I can still fight. I am a specialist at ranged, not melee, combat.”

“But can you climb swiftly up and down vertical walls of stone?” you ask. “Can you move swiftly through an engagement, to acquire an ideal position? Can you dodge return-fire?”

Olu lowers his gaze.

“I will recover swiftly,” the Pit-Guard grumbles. “I can fight the kobolds by the time we reach the foothills where these rebel-slaves play at lordship, Dragonborn.”

“Your Apprentice will have a longer recovery ahead,” you say. “I want he, and the Archer, returned to me alive, and intact, ready for the campaigns ahead. They cannot reach the Drow without a guard. You ARE that guard.”

The Pit-Guard slowly nods, and mutters a half-hearted thanks.

The Apprentice is still unconscious, unable to voice his own complaint for his wounded honour. Good. You’re tired.

“Eat,” you encourage them, passing out rust-monster meat and water. “Drink.”

You all do. It is… Iron-rich. Chewy. Bitter. None of you complain. You’ve all eaten worse.

What do you do with your downtime? Choose up to two.
>Speak with Glowie about her future colony, and her plans [specify if you make a suggestion as to where to situate it, such as here, Bloodrise, or among the Drow]
>Help the Novice brew her potions—perhaps she can teach you something of it, or you can at least be of some small use to her and speed the process
>Let Paeris try his hand again at raising morale with a bardic song
>Attempt to commune with a Dark God [which one?]
>Practice with your new sword in solitude
>Go scouting with the Thief
>Write-in
>>
>>5296445
>Speak with Glowie about her future colony, and her plans
>Let Paeris try his hand again at raising morale with a bardic song
Better to improve morale while we’re all still together.
>>
>>5296458
+1
>>
>>5296445
>Help the Novice brew her potions—perhaps she can teach you something of it, or you can at least be of some small use to her and speed the process
>Let Paeris try his hand again at raising morale with a bardic song
>>
>>5296458
+1
>>
>Attempt to commune with a Dark God [which one?]
-Mother of dragons or serpent ascending

Maybe one of the dark gods can heal?
>Write-in
>-Practice fleshweaving
>>
[Given the rapid pace of updates this weekend and the small number of votes yet entered, I'm leaving this one open until morning. No late-night post tonight!]
>>
>>5296470
Supporting
>>
>>5296445
>Help the Novice brew her potions—perhaps she can teach you something of it, or you can at least be of some small use to her and speed the process
>>5296445
>Speak with Glowie about her future colony, and her plans .

Here would be a decent enough spot I suppose
>>
>>5296445
>Attempt to commune with a Dark God [which one?]
Mother of dragons?
I want to put an antiPaladin in my antiPaladin quest.
>>
>>5296445
>Speak with Glowie about her future colony, and her plans [specify if you make a suggestion as to where to situate it, such as here, Bloodrise, or among the Drow]
and ask how she moves so quick
she's a giant caterpillar like damn
>>
>>5296445
>Practice with your new sword in solitude
>>
>>5296458
>>5296465
>>5296470
>>5296491
>>5296548
>>5296586
>>5296624
>>5296625
>>5296642
>>5296754
“Infiltrator!”

Paeris the Degenerate looks up, recognizing the title by which you have come to more-frequently refer to him, to differentiate him from Olu if nothing else.

“Play us a song with your music-magic.”

“Are you certain, Superior One?” he asks nervously. “Last time it… Disrupted you.”

“We are not in meditation this time,” you reply, “but in celebration. It seems… Appropriate.”

“I suppose a song does occur,” he murmurs.

Paeris takes out his harp, beginning to pick the strings and to quietly hum to himself. At first, the other Reptilians take little notice, or scoff at the mammalian frivolity of it, but as the weaving of the notes grows more and more complex in its organization, faster and more intricate at once, and the humming grows louder, a few begin to look on with an annoyance which gives way to interest.

“I do not know of this elf-song,” the Elf-Specialist notes.

The Infiltrator pauses, and then with a small smile and a wink, says:

“It’s because I just wrote it.”

Then, with a rapid strum and a deep-lunged cry, the bard breaks into a song:

“Deep under the Bloodrise stone,
Born was an insect on a gilded throne,
It brooded in darkness and was thus overgrown!
It doubled and tripled, quintupled in size,
It ate all the dark elves,
Hoarded what they prize,
It scurried and scarfed and consumed all in sight,
It brought unholy terror to an eternal night…”

A pause of the voice, a slow-down in the strumming, and then:

“’Til the Dragonborn arrived!
‘Til the DRAAAAGONborn arrived!
‘Til fifteen Reptilians all armed and forewarned,
Marched into the lair of this elf-eater scorned,
And the damned beast it dared,
Didn’t know to be scared,
And it tried to eat the Draaaaaaaaaagonborn.”

The Novice peers out from the field-lab she has set up, looking first to Paeris and then to you. You shrug, and turn back to the song.

“The Drow call this beats the Devourer,
Because it ate of their kin and their kings,
But it didn’t count on the Dragonborn,
Yes, the beast was forgetting one thing:
Yes, when you try to have a Reptilian snack,
The Master Race’s sons bite back!
So the bug overthrown,
Was flipped and was thrown,
And we sit on ITS throne,
Devouring IT for daring attack!”

The half-elf goes on like this for a while, before slipping into instrumental. As he does, you eat, enjoying a moment’s peace from responsibility.
>>
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>>5296844
Eventually, though, you feel a presence at your hip and, without even turning, you know who it is.

“Glowie,” you acknowledge.

She leans gently against you, humming along to the song, and you feel her tail laying across yours, just out of sight of the others. She’s at least come to realize the very public, visible displays of affection will get her shoved away sooner. Still… You wonder how this over-attached worm-princess will handle the inevitable parting of you two, when she sets about establishing her own ‘kingdom’, he own little brood of monster glow-worms. Perhaps now, with everyone distracted by the musical interlude, is a good time to broach the subject?

“Come with me,” you say, and she does… Though, as soon as the two of you are out of direct sight of the others, she take you hand and begins to hum more loudly and more tunelessly, tail swinging back and forth delightedly.

This excitement dies down a little when you explain your purpose for taking her to somewhere more private: politics.

“…Thought you wanted something else,” she admits, her slightly-garbled True Speech yet better than it was on days prior.

“…You’ve been improving,” you note, desperately ignoring the implications of Glowie’s words. What did she think you were up to?!

“The Novice Fleshweaver has been teaching,” Glowie says brightly. “Knew language already, from Mother. Just never developed diplomat’s tongue yet.”

She fondles the Amulet of Disguise, staring at it wonderingly.

“Will tell my children of this thing, this ‘Fleshweaving’. Is good. Allows even big-bodied brooding-type to be small, with log legs. To move faster, do battle!”

You HAD noticed she was swift and stealthy for such a… ‘Big-bodied’ type, even now with her thick tail and wide hips and rear. You suppose it makes sense, when you consider she is used to navigating about with a far plumper, less-agile form than that which she currently occupies.

“Yes, about your children… Have you given thought to where you would like to have them?”

Glowie looks up, startled. She hums happily.

“With you, Dragonborn obviously,” she says. “Wherever you are is where I will lay my eggs."
>>
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>>5296846
>>5296846
You stare blankly. Surely she just meant that she wishes to brood and set up her kingdom nearby your own location, to benefit from your protection and a Reptilian alliance. You are ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that’s what she means by ‘with you’. You keep telling yourself that.

“Your people will need room to grow and expand,” you say. “What about this place? The Devourer has seemingly frightened off or DEVOURED most others? It is warm and dry, it is only a few days from the surface, and the Drow may prove useful allies as well. Maybe the kobolds, too, once they’re sufficiently subjugated. What do you think?”

Glowie tilts her head.

“Will you be king here, then?” she asks.

“I’m… A champion, but not actually a KING,” you correct. “Not exactly. I will go where the Serpent Priesthood dictates… Once I have gone to Bloodrise and returned.”

“No,” Glowie asserts with surprising fierceness. “They are lesser. You are ROYAL. Mother felt it, when you reached out with mind. I feel it, when you roar, when you command. You are KING. It is why you are good mate.”

Okay, so maybe she DOESN’T just mean she wants to lay eggs in your geographic proximity… Though proximity is clearly on the menu, as she advances and squeezes her (borrowed! disguised! shapeshifted! she is a GLOW-WORM!) body against yours, burying her face in your neck and inhaling deeply of you. The humming starts again, and swaying, as if trying to dance with you.

“You should rule,” she says. “Your lizards. My worms. It is your nature, Dragonborn.”

What do you do?
>Violently rebuke Glowie for this heresy [-relationship]
>Admit that you’ve secretly felt the same thing
>Forcefully assign Glowie a realm, which you will NOT be helping her populate [specify where]
>Hurriedly excuse yourself from this bizarre and unexpected situation
>Embrace the worm-princess, and tentatively agree to this ‘alliance’ [+relationship]
>Write-in
>>
>>5296851
>Embrace the worm-princess, and tentatively agree to this ‘alliance’ [+relationship]

We rule as god-king!
>>
>>5296848
>>Hurriedly excuse yourself from this bizarre and unexpected situation
Ok; I think we will have a strategical interest in squashing bug cheeks.
For the dark gods of course; and later. Would this please the mother of dragons? She might be a good patron for us in the end.
>>
>>5296851
>Embrace the worm-princess, and tentatively agree to this ‘alliance’ [+relationship]

Fuck it. We brought her along to set up an alliance, us ruling over her and her brood is even better. We are dragon. We are meant to rule.
>>
>>5296851
>Hurriedly excuse yourself from this bizarre and unexpected situation
haha
are we even genetically compatible? we're completely different species!
>>
>>5296851
>Hurriedly excuse yourself from this bizarre and unexpected situation
Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh............................
>>
Excusing ourselves is just going to delay this decision anons. I'd rather we reject her than ignore it. I doubt much is going to change for us relationship-wise when it's time to make the decision.
>>
>>5296851

I get that anons here are permanently horny but you guys have to appreciate that dating this horrific worm abomination is totally beneath us as a future Dragon Emperor, right?

Think of the political blowback when we come home and have spawned awful insectiod/mammalian/reptilian hybrids with some worm lady.

We should be pursuing a political alliance with the bugs without this sexual dimension, in my opinion.
>>
>>5296949
I warned you faggots this would happen. If you choose "diplomacy", those goddamn monkeys WILL fuck the maggot. You WON'T get one without the other.
>>
You vill live with ze bugs
You vill eat with ze bugs
You vill 'eat' Glowie
And you vill like it
>>
>>5296851
>Violently rebuke Glowie for this heresy [-relationship]
and
>Hurriedly excuse yourself from this bizarre and unexpected situation
>>
>>5296851
>Embrace the worm-princess, and tentatively agree to this ‘alliance’ [+relationship]
Hybrid vigor ftw
>>
>>5296851
>Forcefully assign Glowie a realm, which you will NOT be helping her populate [specify where]
Right here is fine.

Would also support either of these:

>Hurriedly excuse yourself from this bizarre and unexpected situation
>Violently rebuke Glowie for this heresy [-relationship]
>>
What about fucking the maggot just once to give her a life supply of sperm cells for our future dragonfly army?
>>
>>5297021
I'm fine with fertilizing her eggs just once to make her happy then pretending it never happened. I thought that this was the plan here. Get the sexual part over with so that we can rule over her and her children.
>>
>>5296909
We're literally crossbred with mammals as it is, arthropodaphilia isn't that far of a stretch.
>>
>>5297021
>>5297023
Do you hear yourselves? Are you really this demented or just clinging to this for a shitty excuses to fuck a MAGGOT?
>>
>>5296851
>Embrace the worm-princess, and tentatively agree to this ‘alliance’ [+relationship]
>Admit that you’ve secretly felt the same thing
>>
>>5297106
All I'm saying is that we do our best to pretend it's the novice and fertilize the eggs for the sake of getting a Glow-Worm colony under our direct control.
>>
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>>5297114
All I'm saying is Dragonfire, this was a mistake.
>>
>>5296851
>Hurriedly excuse yourself from this bizarre and unexpected situation.

Fuck coomers, i can't believe we wasted an action on this.
>>
How is it cooming? Is every situation involving sex have to be for the sole sake of porn? Isn’t that actual pragmatic choice and the best for our character at least in terms of power embracing Glowie?
>>
>im just metagaming guys, don't understand why you don't want to put a cock in a maggot and make mutant children with it for diplomasy????
Dragonfire.
>>
>>5297155
Meta gaming? What part of it is ooc knowledge?
>>
>>5297129
And this will keep happening as long as the worm stays with us until the wankers get their bugfucking wish.
>>5297160
>best for our character at least in terms of power embracing Glowie?
I don't think this is a concern our retard who believes in reptilian and dragon supremacy would have when considering letting a goddamn maggot profit from his semi-dragon bloodline.
>>
>>5297178
She appealed to our natural desire to rule as dragon no? Directly mentioned our nature is to rule and called us royalty? Isn’t that appealing to our sense of superiority? Just say you don’t like the idea of fucking her my guy. Don’t accuse every idea you don’t like as meta gaming.
>>
>>5297138
[I won't be writing pron of it, regardless.]
>>
>>5296851
>Embrace the worm-princess, and tentatively agree to this ‘alliance’ [+relationship]
I love seeing other anons bitch and moan about this, Glowie supports our claim to rule and we'd have her support in the future, their species are devout followers of the "MOTHER OF DRAGONS" our right to rule has never been stronger, we would be giving up some dna to a princess from the race the dark gods used to outphase us, clearly they knew we would have an encounter but the hubris of reptiles made them only start attacking their otherwise allies because they were different, we are a reptile yes but above all we are a Dragonborn ANTIPALADIN, AKA a fanatical zealot to the dark gods, being we are shamans we are more laid back and have a personal relationship with the gods and as such are less inclined to follow reptilian societies norms, as much as anyone could challenge our rule or chastise us for it, we'd be following the will of the gods and have their support to make these decisions, so I support us fucking the bug
>>
>>5296851
>Hurriedly excuse yourself from this bizarre and unexpected situation

>>5296949
Basically agree with this. The sexual side is weird lads…
>>
>>5296851
>Embrace the worm-princess, and tentatively agree to this ‘alliance’ [+relationship]
Can’t really be picky with our allies, so I’ll take the relationship level up. Don’t know how you’re going to handle the sperging though RQM, beyond kicking this can of worms down the road.
>>
>>5297292
The reason why we brought glowie with us in the first place, was to use her and her future monster bug offspring as a weapon against either the kobalds or the surface races.

At no point did we suggest that we planed on tying ourselves to her. Further more far from chastisement, the reaction of the average member of scalykind would be abhorrence.

Even the dragonborns own birth was barely tolerated, and had to be kept a secret. And we what 25% human, maybe less due to fleash crafting in the womb.

And then there is the fact that the serpent priest who created glowies race in the first place, Killed herself out of shame of what she had been commanded to do.

If the rest of the tribe finds out we've been making half breeds with a bug monster, will be exiled or put under true confession.
>>
>>5296949
I mean, we can just improve our relationship and just friendzone the worm. Really, the only thing that appeals to me about this arrangement is that we’re officially top dog in this alliance hierarchy, which is all I really care about. We can kick the hybrid question down the road until we get a solid powerbase.
>>
Damn close vote. 7 votes for Hurriedly and 7 votes for Embrace.
>>
>>5297397
I mean 6 votes for embrace
>>
>>5296851
>Embrace the worm-princess, and tentatively agree to this ‘alliance’ [+relationship]

>>5297401
Make that seven.
>>
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[We currently have a tie. I'll wait 2 more hours, then post.]

[I notice that there are currently two 1-post voters: >>5297292 and >>5296981. Please backlink to a previous vote, or to break the tie (assuming it is not broken by other means) I will remove those.]

[For this particular vote, no more 1-post votes will be allowed without backlinking.]
>>
>>5297481
>>>5296981
Was me phoneposting from work.
>>
>>5297449
>>5297337
>>5297333
>>5297292
>>5297129
>>5297109
>>5297013
>>5296981
>>5296973
>>5296929
>>5296909
>>5296885
>>5296855
>>5296854
The offering is tempting, and not just because of the body pressing against you—supple, strong where strength is desirable, pliable, willing—but also because of this worm-woman’s words, and what they promise. You… A natural king to an empire of descendants, loyal warriors in service of the Dark Gods! It has an appeal you cannot deny, even if the offspring in question would be insectoid. You are already a hybrid, after all. What is one more dilution of a polluted genepool?

But then… What of the Master Race? What of your status AMONG that race? If you were to be open about this, you would suffer excommunication, execution even! There are perhaps ways to spin this tale, to make it a boon to the Priesthood…. But there is no way to keep it under wraps indefinitely, and certainly not to continue to keep Glowie herself (or her brooding mother) a secret from the Reptilian leadership.

And what of your aspirations to Dragonhood? Does a dragon lay with bugs, with worms and other such foul and lowly creatures? Glowie is… Glowie. You enjoy her presence, and she has been a useful and loyal companion. You certainly desire alliance, just maybe not… ‘Alliance.’

“This is the feel of a Reptilian breeding implement?” Glowie whispers, squeezing you through clothing. “It is not what I expected. There are… Two?”

You shove her away, without hostility but with decisiveness. When he looks up at you curiously, and reaches out again, you take a step back.

“We… The others are not so far away, and we have a mission to attend to.”

Glowie tilts her head.

“I can delay brooding phase until the kobolds are dead. While I am laying and brooding, it is best that you be undistracted and able to focus on protection, anyway.”

“An alliance between our races is a good idea, but the rest…”

Glowie’s disappointment is palpable, and your frustration throbs between your legs, conflicted feelings made flesh.

“Let us... Return to the others,” you say, turning away.

You close your eyes and think about dragons until the ‘distraction’ dies down. Glowie offers no objections, and no further provocations. In silence, the two of you return to the rest of your retinue.

“Where were you two?” the Novice demands, and then her nose scrunches and her eyes narrow. “Why do you smell as if you are in rut?”

You do not answer, pushing her aside, to her hissing objections and muttered insults.

Glowie sits apart from you, appearing to be lost in thought. When you lean against the far wall, far from the others, she watches you with inscrutable expression, but makes no effort to join you.
>>
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>>5297714
Torpor does not come easily this time, nor restfully. While the Novice I tending to her potions, and the first watch is going about their vigilant patrols of the tunnels around the Devourer’s cavern, you lay sleeping… And dreaming.

Dreams are not native to your kind—well, not your father’s kind, you suppose. You have no idea if your Degenerate mother dreamt or not. The frivolous fancy is a byproduct of a mammalian mind’s defective design: a hallucination with tangential connection to reality, disorganized and jumbled and always emotional. You have heard that they do this thing and, when you experience the strange vision in your spell of torpor, your first instinct is shame and disappointment in yourself. You look about the strange environs which surround you—lush with green material resembling the living ‘plants’ you bested a week prior, surveyed from atop a terraced pyramid of white stone, carved with countless swirling designs. It is fantastical, wondrous, a vision of the surface… But one you should be incapable of having, if you were a true dragon.

>HAVE NOT SHAME, BUT PRIDE.
>>
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>>5297721
You are caught off-guard by the booming voice which assails you from above. You look up the face it, adjusting your stance to balance yourself, lest the quaking tremors of its speech blast you off the top of the tower of stone with you stand atop. What you see there is… Divine.

Wreathed in a golden halo is a massive, unfurling serpent-shape, crested by many great wings. Its scales give way to feathers at point, and as the massive airborne serpent lowers towards you, its halo becomes a wreathe—a mane—of such feather-scales, golden and glorious. The panoply of plant-life beneath you bows from the great wind of its coming, and at places seems to wither or burn from its magnificent—from He who is called Serpent Ascendant. You shield your eyes from him, lest the same fate befall you as those trees.

>YOU REJECTED THE OFFER OF THE TEMPLE-PROSTUTE PRINCESS OF THE BROOD-MOTHER

“You… Mean Glowie?” you ask. “And you refer to the Mother of Dragons, oh lord?”

>MOTHER OF DRAGONS? PERHAPS… ONCE, IN ANCIENT DAYS. SHE HAS CARRIED MANY NAMES, BUT HER INTEREST IN DRAGONS IS LIMITED. NOT SO YOUR OWN.

You dare to peer upwards at the towering shape, and find the entire tower is encircled in monumental coils, coils without end, the tail of your Dark God trailing through the plants now. The light which once blinded in now blotted out; the plants die, or are changed, where the tail of the Serpent Ascendant touches them, or even his shadow falls upon them.

>SHE PROTECTS AND CHERISHES HER CHILDREN… BUT SHE DOES NOT ALLOW THEM TO GROW STRONG. SHE IS MOTHER OF GECKOS, AND TOADS, AND NOW WORMS, AND PERHAPS YET SPIDERS.

You bow your head in respect, now sure how to reply—if a reply is even expected of you.

>BUT YOU, YOU ASPIRE. YOU WERE NOT SATISFIED TO PROTECT YOUR BROOD, TO SIT ON YORU AURELS AND SIRE SUCH SUPPLICANTS. YOU HUNTED A MONSTER TO THE DEEP PLACES, SLEW IT, AND TOOK ITS POWER FOR YOUR OWN.

You dare to look up. Is this Dark God… praising you? Your eyes widen and your heart seizes, to find a single great eye focused upon you, easily large enough to dwarf you dozens of times over.

>IN YOU, I SEE A DRAGON… IN WAITING, IN CONCEPT, HALF-FORMED.

What do you do?
>Prostrate yourself, and ask how you may be of service—even your pride is humbled before such a great and terrible being
>Demand power—you believe have proven yourself worthy, and think that the Serpent Ascendant May be a worthy patron
>Ask of the apparent disagreement between Dark Gods, and what originated it
>Thanks the Serpent Ascendant, but ask why he has not better helped your floundering race
>Write-in
>>
>>5297729
>Write-in.
>Ask it for guidance on the means to obtain a true dragons power and form.
>>
>>5297729
>Ask of the apparent disagreement between Dark Gods, and what originated it
>Thanks the Serpent Ascendant, but ask why he has not better helped your floundering race

Let's take our conversation with this god slowly now. It's been made clear that the word "service" is a big deal and I don't want to be forced into a big decision right now without learning more.
>>
>>5297729
*temple-prostitute
*sit on your laurels
>>
>>5297729
>Ask of the apparent disagreement between Dark Gods, and what originated it

Less is more when each question is a favor owed
>>
>>5297757
+1
Shame about the Glowie relationship bit, the alliance being under our nominal control would’ve been a coup, even if I disagree that we would’ve been ‘resting on our laurels’ with such an decision.
>>
>>5297757
Supporting
>>
>>5297729
>Prostrate yourself, and ask how you may be of service—even your pride is humbled before such a great and terrible being
other gods dissing bugmom, based
maybe we aren't totally abandoned for the worms
>>
>>5297757
">Thanks the Serpent Ascendant, but ask why he has not better helped your floundering race."

I don't think its good idea, to question the actions of a dragon god. Bedsides which he if decided to appear before us. Thats a sign that unlike other dark gods like the brood mother he still favors our kind.

Also its already been said that the dark gods dislike supplicants, and help those who help themselves.
>>
>>5297729
>Ask of the apparent disagreement between Dark Gods, and what originated it
>>
>>5297753
+1
I think this guy would respect boldness, and ngl it's our most pressing concern right now.
>>
>>5297753
>>5297757
>>5297776
>>5297778
>>5297790
>>5297795
>>5297811
>>5297829

Your instinct is to prostrate yourself, of course—to lower your eyes once more, to bow your head low to the ground, to recognize this Most Superior One for his greater nature and to make your humility known… But though the Dark Gods are not averse to slaves and supplicants NECESSARILY, it is clear that simple worshipfulness is insufficient to regain their favour. And this Dark God in particular—the Serpent Ascendant, Sun-Eater, he whose shadow is the very eclipse? He came and told you to feel pride… And so pride you will feel, and display.

“Thank you, Oh Omnipotent One,” you say, forcing yourself to keep your head raised and back straight. “Your praise is much appreciated.”

You hesitate for only the briefest moment, and yet—

>SPEAK YOUR SPIRIT’S INQUIRY.

You don’t bother to hide the tremble which this command sends through you, but you hold your gaze and do not let it bow you.

“The Lady of the Rookery has seemingly abandoned us,” you note, “but not you.”

The ever-winding coils do not cease, but they slow. Both great eyes fix on you now, as a head like a scale-studded plateau shifts its angle to better behold you.

>YOU WONDER WHY I DO NOT DO MORE.

“It is… Unwise to question the will of a Dark God,” you reply. “Even moreso to ask questions, when each answer carries a price. I am already in debt to The Lord of Endings.”

>BAH. DEATH. WILL HE EVEN BOTHER TO COLLECT? DOES HE CARE TO EVEN BALANCE THE SCALES OF HONOUR AND OBLIGATION, AS HE ONCE DID, OR IS EVEN THAT TOO MUCH WORK FOR HIM NOW?

“Forgive me for saying it, but the Dark Gods seems to have many disagreements,” you note.

>YOU SEEK TO ASK ANOTHER QUESTION WITHOUT ASKING IT. I EXPECT LESS SUBTERFUGE, AND MORE BOLDNESS.

Your eyes flit downwards at the criticism, automatically. Did you make a mistake?

>ASK PLAINLY.

You take a deep breath, look upwards again, and do so: “What is the origin of this schism in the Dark Gods? Why do none of you aid the Master Race?”
>>
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>>5297835
>THE GODS OF DARKENSS WERE NEVER UNIFIED. THERE WAS NO SCHISM. WE HAVE EACH ALWAYS GONE OUR OWN WAY. WHEN THE WORLD WAS YOUNG, WE CRAFTED OUR DRAGONS AND OUR OTHER CHAMPIONS FROM FIRE AND FLESH, STONE AND SCALE, AND WE WARRED. ONLY THE COMING OF THE GODS OF LIGHT EVER UNIFIED OUR PURPOSE. AND THEN… WE LOST.

You all lost—Dark Gods and Reptilian alike. It is a shameful truth, but it is known. But… Why not strengthen your race for another battle? Why did they allow the noble dragons to go extinct, and never to return?

>WE WERE DISAPPOINTED IN OUR PERFORMANCE IN THAT WAR, AND IN OUR CREATIONS. EACH OF US HAD OUR OWN STRATEGY FOR HOW TO RECTIFY THE SITUATION. THE BEHOLDER CREATED THE AKASHIC RECORD, AND BEGAN TO COMPILE OUR HISTORIES AND TO STUDY THEM THERE, TO DISCOVER HOW WE HAD FAILED SO WE WOULD NOT REPEAT THOSE MISTAKES.

You have heard tell of the Akashic Record of the Dark Gods—a hidden library of moments, events, histories unwritten, hidden in the shadows between instants, beheld only by half-mad prophets of The Master of the Insightful Eye.

>THE PERSECUTOR SOUGHT TO PURIFY YOUR RACES OF TAINT AND WEAKNESS WITH HIS CASTE SYSTEM, HIS TRADITIONS AND LAWS, HIS CHASTITY… BUT HE DISCOURAGED YOU TO STRIVE, TO ADVANCE. HA, HE MUST LOATHE YOUR TAINTED HERITAGE, AND WHAT YOU ARE BECOMING WITH YOUR BAND OF MISFITS AND OUTCASTS.

The thought of a Dark God (and one you have such little direct knowledge of) being aware of an actively ANTAGONISTIC towards you is an alarming one. You gulp.

>AS FOR THE MOTHER, SHE AND I CAME TO DISAGREE UPON HER SIGNATURE DRAGONS. SHE BELIEVED THAT WE SHOULD GIVE RISE, AS A COLLECTIVE, TO STILL GREATER CHAMPIONS, OF VARYING SORTS—DEMIGODS BORN STRONG, AND BRED FOR GREATER AND GREATER STRENGTH, BIRTHING THEM IN GREAT SWEEPING HORDES THAT COULD CONSUME THE STARS.

“And you… Disagreed?” you ask, perplexed, before you can stop yourself. What favour will THIS question entitle this great serpent to, you half-wonder and half-dread.

>BAH. IT IS PART AND PARCEL TO YOUR LAST QUESTION. I AM ABOVE SUCH PETTY GAMES AND TECHNICALITIES. YES, I DISAGREED. DRAGONS GREW USELESS TO US -BECAUSE- THEY WERE BORN SO STRONG, BECAUSE THEY HAD SUCH ARMIES BY THEIR NATURE.

This is… Startling, to say the least. How can he who praised you for your draconic nature now disavow and disparage the nature of dragons?

>A NATURAL KING, RAISED BY RIGHT OF BIRTH, DOES NOT STRIVE. HE SITS UPON HIS GOLDEN THRONE, GROWS FAT ON OFFERINGS, DOZES AND DWELLS ON HIS UNEARNED GLORY. A KING BY CONQUEST, BY STRENGTH AND HONOUR, HE STAYS WORTHY. HE CAN CONQUER GODS AND CONSUME STARS!

You think you understand. The Dark Gods saw weakness in your race following your failure but, unable to settle upon a single root failure—ignorance, inherent physical insufficiency, lack of discipline and moral integrity, lack of ambition—they each retreated into their own projects, rather than unifying behind a single plan.
>>
>>5297837
Your eyes widen.

“There is no Grand Design,” you gasp.

>NO. ONLY MANY SEPARATE ONES. EACH GOD OF DARKNESS TRAVELS THE ETERNAL NIGHT ALONE, SCHEMING SEPARATE SCHEMES.

It’s… Heresy! Or it would be, had you not heard it from a Dark God. You grapple with this divine revelation, feeling yourself teetering on the verge of existential crisis.

“Our race is not master,” you mutter. “Our design is not grand, nor unified. Our fate is… Is…”

>UNWRITTEN, AND UNDETERMINED.

You cannot bring yourself to look up again.

>MEET MY GAZE.

You do. You cannot disobey. The gaze—the great red eyes—threaten to swallow you up in your disorientation and despair.

>FATE IS A CRUTCH. DESTINY IS FOR THE LAZY. A TRUE KING SEIZES HIS THRONE.

You look across the top of the ziggurat on which you stand, a mote of dust before a dark supernova of the soul manifested as winged serpent. As his wings spread wide, you see a throne revealed, as if daring you to sit upon it… And yet you know you are not yet worthy. Not beneath the hungry, judging eyes of this Serpent Ascendant.

You take a step towards the throne, towards the King of Cobras, Eclipse-Emperor and Swallower of the Sun…. But no sooner have you done so than the stone begins to crack beneath you feet, the masonry to crumble away into a jungle which is beginning to fade and fray at the edges.

“I’m waking up,” you realize, with startling lucidity.

>YES. DECIDE. WHAT WILL YOU BECOME?

You open your mouth, but are interrupted.

>THIS NEXT QUESTION'S ANSWER WILL COME AT A PRICE.

What do you do?
>Request to become an Antipaladin of the Serpent Ascendant
>Ask for guidance on how to become a TRUE Dragonborn, by your own strength
>Wake, and consider what you have learned, but take no drastic action yet
>Write-in
>>
>>5297838
>>Request to become an Antipaladin of the Serpent Ascendant
>>
>>5297838
Uhhhhh
>Request to become an Antipaladin of the Serpent Ascendant
ONLY if he's gonna help us become a dragon in the process, but I like this guy. He's a chad.

If becoming an Antipaladin of the Serpent Ascendant does not involve becoming a true dragon,
>Ask for guidance on how to become a TRUE Dragonborn, by your own strength
>>
>>5297838
>Ask for guidance on how to become a TRUE Dragonborn, by your own strength

We WILL become a TRUE DRAGON by our own hands. THEN we talk to the serpent ascendant. When he has seen our greatness.
>>
>>5297838
Let’s not owe a debt to this guy and I don’t want to commit to being an anti-paladin yet.

>Wake, and consider what you have learned, but take no drastic action yet
>>
>>5297841
Supporting this.

It is time
>>
It'd be really funny if the God just says lol nope to us being his antipaladin and told us to go prove ourselves first and now we owe him a favor. It'd honestly be pretty on brand for what he's said so far. About how the strong should seize their own throne and whatnot.
>>
>>5297862
Well, we might have proven ourself at least partially with the monster slaying thing.
>>
>>5297838
>Wait
If that fails
>Ask for guidance on how to become a TRUE Dragonborn, by your own strength
You do not make requests of the Serpent Ascendant, you simply seize the position yourself. We must prove ourselves worthy by our own ambition and merit, not languish on our laurels.
>>
>>5297838
>Ask for guidance on how to become a TRUE Dragonborn, by your own strength.

This could help prove directly useful in a quest and long term ambitions.
>>
>>5297838
>Ask for guidance on how to become a TRUE Dragonborn, by your own strength
>>
>>5297838
>Wake, and consider what you have learned, but take no drastic action yet
I refuse to ask him the question. We need to seek it ourselves
>>
>>5297838
>Request to become an Antipaladin of the Serpent Ascendant
He's based.
>>
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>>5297840
>>5297841
>>5297846
>>5297852
>>5297858
>>5297866
>>5297867
>>5297933
>>5297970
>>5298030
“I will become a true Dragonborn… A true Dragon!”

The Great Snake watches you closely.

>HOW?

“By my own strength!” you declare.

>HA. GOOD.

“But… Can you not guide me?” you ask. “Show me the way, and I will follow.”

>FOOLISH MORTAL, I HAVE ALREADY DONE SO.

You recoil, confused, but you can feel your vision and your perception of this dream-realm growing hazy. What does he mean?

>REFLECT ON MY WORDS. DO NOT MAKE THE SAME MISTAKES AS YOUR MOTHER, WHEN SIMIALR OPPORTUNITIES PRESENT THEMSELVES.

Your mother? What? What does he—

You awake, eyes snapping open, and sit upright. Once more, you are in the Devourer’s chamber, leaned against the warmish, red-grey stone of the deceased beast’s den. You look around, and see many of your allies have also taken the time for torpor. You take a deep breath, shake your head to clear it, and place your helm back upon your head. When the Bastard returns from his watch, you relieve him, and take the opportunity for solitude to think about what you just experienced: your second interaction with the Divine, this time by the GOD’S volition rather than your own. What does it mean?

What do they want from you?

You soon return from an uneventful patrol—you once thought you heard the clatter of clawed feet across stone, but no barbed devil or other such creature revealed itself to take your new, white-bladed elf-sword. You find the Novice awake, and when she spies you she crosses the chamber to shove a potion into your waiting hands: the one you gave to her.

“Are the other potions—”

“Complete? Not yet, Oh Arthropodaphilic One.”

“…Wait, what?”

“They yet cool, Fucker of Bugs,” she clarifies, with a sigh.

You reel back. “I did not—”

“Certainly, whatever you say,” she scoffs. “Could you have at least waited until she was not wearing my form, albeit modified?”

“We did not—”

The Novice’s eyes widen, and she rattles with laughter, her expression appalled and intrigued simultaneously.

“In her natural form, then? Is this mammalian degeneracy at its peak?”

You glower at her, crossing your arms.

“Never fear, Oh Virginal One, I believe you. Too pathetic and bound up in false dragon-pride to even convince such a lowly creature to entertain your desires? It is very much in-character for you.”

You wait for her to tire of this game. Eventually, the Novice realizes she will not get another rise out of you, and hisses in disappointment.

“You really are jealous, aren’t you?” you ask.

The Novice immediately changes topics.
>>
>>5298055
“The potion you had me analyze,” the Novice says, “is, quite humorously, almost the opposite of the last which you brought me. It is a Potion of Diminution.”

You tilt your head. “A potion to make me weak, rather than stronger?”

“A potion to make you SMALLER,” the Novice corrects. “Some weakness may result, but you would remain disproportionately, freakishly strong—appropriate, for such a creature as yourself—in your smaller size.”

“Will there be any side-effects?” you ask.

The Novice frowns. “Well… Perhaps avoid spellcasting in that form. Its age is indeterminate, but the Devourer was an old thing. Who knows when it ate this potion’s original owner? You may experience similar side-effects to last time.”

You nod, and tuck the potion into a side-pocket of your pack.

Do you do anything else while you wait for the final phase of the potion-brewing to complete?
>Explore the nearby caverns a little more with Glowie, chastely and without handholding, and see if you can chart the new realm you are likely to assign her
>Seek out the barbed devil or his cohort again, in an effort to capture or kill one so as to put the fear of the Dark Gods into them
>Try meditating on dragonness again with the Bastard
>As the Elf-Specialist about elven legends related to the moon
>Find somewhere private and attempt to commune with a different Dark God [which one?]
>Write-in
>>
>>5298057
>>Try meditating on dragonness again with the Bastard
>>As the Elf-Specialist about elven legends related to the moon
>>
>>5298063
+1
>>
>>5298057
>Explore the nearby caverns a little more with Glowie, chastely and without handholding, and see if you can chart the new realm you are likely to assign her

I just realized how hell childhood must have been, growing up and the Novice can smell whenever we're horny
>>
>>5298057
>Seek out the barbed devil or his cohort again, in an effort to capture or kill one so as to put the fear of the Dark Gods into them
>Try meditating on dragonness again with the Bastard
>>
>>5297838

So basically the CHAD GOD of DRAGONS is telling us to we need to be a bigger badass and dragonhood will follow naturally.

Seems like dragonhood is more of a state of being rather than strictly a genetic phenomenon - maybe we can transcend our trash genetics through worthy deeds alone without fleshcrafting?
>>
>>5298055
>Try meditating on dragonness again with the Bastard
>>
>>5298120
We should still learn Fleshweaving anyway.
>>
>>5298186
I'd rather explore new avenues, we touched too much upon fleshweaving last time.
>>
>>5298057
>Try meditating on dragonness again with the Bastard
>Improve Jump
>>
>>5298215
Eh, I still think Fleshweaving is valuable. Imagine a Dragonshape that surpasses our current Improved spell, it would be epic as all hell!
>>
>>5298057
>Try meditating on dragonness again with the Bastard
>>
>>5298063
Supporting

>>5298120
Yeah, does anyone have any clear ideas of opportunities we’ve passed up…?

Aside from sex with a bug
>>
>>5298503
If we got with Glowie we probably would've gotten a visit from the Mother of Dragons.
>>
[Pardon the late post, watching The Boys a bit with my roomie.]
>>
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>>5298503
>>5298247
>>5298246
>>5298224
>>5298141
>>5298115
>>5298104
>>5298094
>>5298063
“Elf-Specialist,” you call out as you approach the Serpent priest.

He looks up, then with a resigned sigh averts his eyes down.

“I know what youa re going to say,” he say.

“oh?”

You’re a little surprised at his certainty, and confused.

“You’re sending me back with the others, the injured. Back to the dark elves.”

“Well… Yes.”

You both understand why, so you don’t bother to say it aloud. What sue is an Elf-Specialist among kobolds, already well-understood by your race? And none of the others who you are sending speak the elf-tongue.

“That isn’t ALL I wished to speak of, though.”

The Elf-Specialist looks up, and you take a seat on a nearby stone, and take out your new blade. You both gaze upon the moon-dotted spectacle of the pristine whiteness which is thus unveiled.

“What can you tell me about this?” you ask. “About elven legends of the moon, and what this sword might BE?”

What you learn over the next hour-long lecture—which you interrupt sparingly, preferring to absorb and process the information—tells you little in the way of specifics… But there are clues. The elves are, so they say, and so they well might BE, the first children of the mammal-beloved ‘gods’ of light. Their Titania and Oberon were two of the first such beings to be born in this realm, descended from light-gods from… Some other place… Including their mother and father, the sun and moon. The sun’s god died in battle with a terrible serpent (you well know that tale), and after his body was laid to rest in the sun proper, the goddess of the moon withdrew to mourn, unable to share the sky with the memory of her love, and sometimes unable to appear even at night.

“Half-truths and a justification for natural cycles of day and night, “ you say by rote, repeating the critique of the Serpent priests who reared you, though you have never seen the sky which this legend gives explanation for.

“Maybe,” the Elf-Specialist says, but then he reaches out to tap the blade. “But the elves say that Titania and Oberon bequeathed the bow of their father and the sword of their mother to the first and most divine of their children: the First King of Elves.

You stare blankly, and then almost laugh.

“This is a god’s weapon? Found in the gut of an overgrown bug, by chance?”

No way.
>>
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>>5298778
The Elf-Specialist shrugs. “Likely not, but a king’s blade? And what elf-king would be down here, in these depths, with we banished and beaten races?”

“…The partisan rebel-king of the Drow’s ancestors,” you realize.

The Elf-Specialist nods, rattling quietly with excitement.

“It could make quite the impression…”

You look down upon it again, glowing faintly.

“It could be quite the weapon, for the battle ahead.”

What do you do with the sword?
>Let your injured warriors carry it back, to present to the Drow as a favour
>Keep it, at least for now, to wield in battles to come

[CONT]
>>
>>5298779
You take your leave from the Elf-Specialist to confer with another, n matters of yoru own race’s legends: with the Bastard, on Matters Draconic. For the first time in a week, you feel… Progress. Connection, to that feeling you felt deep in your soul, when the training as over, the bullies were behind you, and you found solace communing with the Great Green Dragonborn—your brother, your fellow dragon-half-formed. The Serpent Ascending’s revelations were… Troubling. You’re not entirely sure how to feel about everything you learned from him, or about the other Dark Gods. But still, he was… Impressive. Inspiring.

Before the two of you meditate, you expound a little on your theory, which ahs been crystalizing in yoru mind since you woke.

“We are proud, rightly, of our descendency from greatness—from dragons.”

“Yes,” the Bastard says, a little uncertainly. “Though my own parentage has never been a source of much pride, until I joined you.”

“Well, maybe it should not be,” you say. “Maybe it NEED not be. Maybe to be a dragon is a state of BEING, not a matter of genetics… A mindset, a shape-of-the-soul. The Novice Fleshweaver, she has taught me something of the modern theory of Fleshweaving, such as was used to create we Dragonborn. If the soul rejects the shape of the flesh, it cannot grow properly into what it is meant to be…”

“…Then what? If we believe hard enough, we will become as dragons? If we just DESIRE it?”

You look upon the Bastard, surprised at his skeptical tone.

“Forgive my cynicism, Superior One, but… My life has seemed to give proof to an opposite notion.”

“Meditate with me, and we will see.”

He acquiesces, for how can he do otherwise? Yet…. You sense resistance. It gives you pause yourself. Are you being (dare you think it) silly? But you have come this far.

“Meditate with me on what it is to see the world as a dragon hatchling—as one yet-growing, yet-becoming, and with greatness still ahead. Not on what it is to be a dragon FORMED, a dragon WHOLE, but to know you CAN be dragon… FI you but reach for it.”

“Yes, Dragonborn.”

Your nictitating membranes slide shut, and you imagine it: you imagine yourself small, a you once were, and titanic, as you might eb in spirit if not in body. What sort of dragon would you become?
>You are surrounded by gold, and a Gold Dragon will you be—a true Dragon Emperor, king of kings!
>Red as fire and as blood, red as the sky when the sun is falling down, a Red Dragon like your ancestor, a roaring flame-in-the-mountain!
>You feel an something calling out from within and without, a tenderness, a destiny crafted for you by another and yet still yours to seize… A destiny bespoke, made not for a fabled king-of-kings or a noble ancestor, but just for you. Its colour: copper, like your own scales. Has there ever been a Copper Dragon?
>>
>>5298780
>Keep it, at least for now, to wield in battles to come

We can present it when we meet with the Queen ourselves.

>You feel an something calling out from within and without, a tenderness, a destiny crafted for you by another and yet still yours to seize… A destiny bespoke, made not for a fabled king-of-kings or a noble ancestor, but just for you. Its colour: copper, like your own scales. Has there ever been a Copper Dragon?

You ALWAYS take the mystery box option.
>>
>>5298780
>Keep it, at least for now, to wield in battles to come

We will present it ourselves

>You feel an something calling out from within and without, a tenderness, a destiny crafted for you by another and yet still yours to seize… A destiny bespoke, made not for a fabled king-of-kings or a noble ancestor, but just for you. Its colour: copper, like your own scales. Has there ever been a Copper Dragon?
We will find our own path - not use a path already walked by others
>>
>>5298779
>Keep it, at least for now, to wield in battles to come
A king’s blade? Perfect.

If anons want to give it back though, we should do it in person at least.

>>5298780
>All the above
This is exploratory, no? I want our Dragonborn to feel what it would be like to become them all instead of just one.
>>
>>5298787
>All the above
[I'd strongly suggesting focusing on one for now if you want a breakthrough/mechanical benefit.]
>>
>>5298780
>Keep it, at least for now, to wield in battles to come
>You feel an something calling out from within and without, a tenderness, a destiny crafted for you by another and yet still yours to seize… A destiny bespoke, made not for a fabled king-of-kings or a noble ancestor, but just for you. Its colour: copper, like your own scales. Has there ever been a Copper Dragon?
>>
>>5298788
I assume Gold for leadership, Red for combat, Copper home-brew mystery box? Frankly, I would like to explore each color instead of choosing one right off the bat, but that’s not in the cards eh?

Copper (rip fearsome king-of-kings, would’ve been a kino).
>>
>>5298779
>Keep it, at least for now, to wield in battles to come
>>5298780
>You feel an something calling out from within and without, a tenderness, a destiny crafted for you by another and yet still yours to seize… A destiny bespoke, made not for a fabled king-of-kings or a noble ancestor, but just for you. Its colour: copper, like your own scales. Has there ever been a Copper Dragon?
>>
Guys, would going copper dragon lead us to lightning breath?
>>
>>5298779
>Keep it, at least for now, to wield in battles to come
>You feel an something calling out from within and without, a tenderness, a destiny crafted for you by another and yet still yours to seize… A destiny bespoke, made not for a fabled king-of-kings or a noble ancestor, but just for you. Its colour: copper, like your own scales. Has there ever been a Copper Dragon?
>>
>>5298821
Turn full Iroh with fire and lightning bending? It would be wicked.
>>
>>5298779
>Keep it, at least for now, to wield in battles to come
>>5298780
>Great Green Dragon
the one whose blood runs through us
>>
>>5298843
>the one whose blood runs through us
[Point of order: you are descended from the Red Dragon. You are only a brother in spirit to the Green Dragonborn.]
>>
>>5298847
What? I thought we had blood from the heart of GGD?
>>
>>5298780
>Keep it, at least for now, to wield in battles to come
>You feel an something calling out from within and without, a tenderness, a destiny crafted for you by another and yet still yours to seize… A destiny bespoke, made not for a fabled king-of-kings or a noble ancestor, but just for you. Its colour: copper, like your own scales. Has there ever been a Copper Dragon?
Did you actually expect anons to pick anything but the MYSTERY BOX, QM?
>>
>>5298904
Honestly thought the same thing
>>
>>5298780
>Keep it, at least for now, to wield in battles to come

>You feel an something calling out from within and without, a tenderness, a destiny crafted for you by another and yet still yours to seize… A destiny bespoke, made not for a fabled king-of-kings or a noble ancestor, but just for you. Its colour: copper, like your own scales. Has there ever been a Copper Dragon?

This is the only right answer.
The ascended serpent told us to SEIZE, not grow fat on ancestor's legacy
>>
>>5298888
[Check >>5265228. It's been mentioned in passing since then, but that was the first time I believe, and also in yhe prompt for Red Dragon just now.]

>>5298904
>>5298923
[The options were meant more as noble ideal/ancient legacy revived/chart your own course, plus "what's your favourite colour", but I guess the final one was justbtoo tempting! Going to tey to sleep a bit longer before work, but will post in a few hours.]
>>
>>5299018
Oh fuck, I somehow missed that completely and kept thinking we were like the OG Dragonborn.
Shame we won't be a red dragon, but I'll change my vote (>>5298843) anyway:
>Red as fire and as blood, red as the sky when the sun is falling down, a Red Dragon like your ancestor, a roaring flame-in-the-mountain!
>>
>>5298780
this belated lurker and part-time troll chooses this edgy write-in: Shadow Dragon!
(we should continue being the bad guy)
>>
>>5299078
>Shadow Dragon
[Absolutely possible, though not worhout magic or a divine patron (and seemingly at odds with aome other choices, like fancy ceremonial armour). Posting very soon!]
>>
>>5298782
>>5298785
>>5298787
>>5298790
>>5298798
>>5298811
>>5298825
>>5298843
>>5298904
>>5298961
>>5299025
>>5299078
You give only passing consideration to the images which spring up in your mind of a revived and revitalized dynasty of roaring flame, or an ideal and perfect kingship-over-creation helmed by your glorious and gold-wreathed glory. To become the old ideal of your people made real, or a new beacon of pride-worthy perfection… Well, there’s nothing WRONG with either of those imaginings. But neither of those carries the mysterious allure of the third, of the sensation which reached up from deep within and filled you with a warmth that said “this is who you were meant to be.”

You will be a Copper Dragon.

Almost as soon as you make the decision, you feel something shift and change. Something… Seismic. At first you think it is just within you, but then you hear the Bastard cry out, and you realize that the earth is really shaking around you! Your eyes snap open and you try to stand, but you stumble, nearly fall flat before you catch yourself. Where your claws gripped the stone for purchase, it has crumbles away, to small pebbles and to sand, and your gauntlets’ shape is yet imprinted upon what remains. You slowly rise, taking a step forward, and a fissure opens in the rocky ground beneath your feet before you.

“What is this?” you murmur.

You exchange a look with the Bastard, who seems to realize the connection between your actions and the tremors. You take another step, testing, and this time place more force into the stride—almost a stomp. The earth rattles violently around you, and the fissure explodes open, small spikes jutting upwards from the broken bedrock.

>Gained spell: Earth Tremor

The rest of your retinue is shouting back and forth, clearly in a frenzy to secure an exit from this place, and so you calm your rising spirit and allow yourself to settle through meditative breathing, until the tremors cease. They have a point, after all: you do not wish to bring this cavern down on your heads and, while that might eb more power than you were technically evincing, right now you feel as if you COULD if you so desired.

“Come,” you say to the Bastard, who nods rapidly and rises to follow you, staring in fear and awe at what you are becoming. You wonder just what that might be… But know now that, whatever it is, it will be something to shake the very foundations of the world, and unlike anything that has come before or been dreamed of by Gods or their priests.
>>
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>>5299131
“Calm yourselves,” you call out as you enter the main chamber again. “It was only me.”

This draws some confusion, but you explain, and see the confusion deepen, and blossom into astonishment and wonder.

“Mightier every day,” the Novice sniffs, “but no wiser. What were you THINKING, oh Meatheaded One, to affect an earthquake while WE are WITHIN the EARTH?”

She taps her claw upon your breastplate with each emphasized word, drawing up to her full height and getting right in your face. She at least had the common sense and decency to draw you aside and out of sight of the others before doing so.

“Didn’t I just instruct you to clam yourself?” you mock. “Panic ill-suits you, oh Eternally Smug One.”

The Novice takes a few long breaths, still lightly gripping your armour as if for stability, or for comfort.

“I loathe you,” she mutters, barely audible, but you can tell the familiar ritual of back-and-forth banter has helped to soothe her in some queer fashion.

“Are the potions ready?” you ask.

“No thanks to your show of braggadocious force nearly toppling my apparatuses!” she says, hands on hips. “Luckily for you, and for us all, I was swift to secure them all.”

“Yes, I suppose it is a good thing that you can sometimes fake professionalism,” you agree solemnly, drawing a hiss and a swat of her tail. You stifle a laugh.

“Let us administer them, then,” you say. “It is time to move on.”

The two of you dole out the potions to your retinue’s injured members. The Pit-Guard’s injury was already in recovery, and the potion seems enough to render it fully-healed. Archer Oluwadamilare seems a bit more spry for his dosage, but despite an attempt to engender confidence and the right to accompany you to Bloodrise, you can stills ee that he favours one leg heavily over the other.

“You will return to the Drow,” you reiterate, to his shamefaced disappointment.

As for the Pit-Guard’s Apprentice, it is only with the administration of this healing potion that he even awakes. He is still groggy, his entire body a mass of interwoven bruises, red and purple mingling across and beneath his scales in a pattern beautiful and hideous.

“I failed,” he grumbles, when you explain what happened, and how long he ahs been unconscious—and where he will be going next, rather than with you. “So much for my part in the new Age of Scales.”
>>
>>5299146
While morale is generally raised among the retinue for all your treasure and for the song and celebration yesterday, you can see that it is slim solace to those who will not be coming with you.

What do you do?
>Commend them for saving your life—you might well have been dead without them
>Promise them glories ahead, in your next campaign, and give them a share of the wealth you have acquired for their personal holdings
>Berate them for their selfishness and emotionality, and remind them that there is still work to do
>Say nothing—they will come to terms with it in their own way, and no speech by you will do more than coddle them and legitimize their whining

Your party will be splitting now, and there is only a few more days’ travel to Bloodrise, where you will finally see to your original mission. This raises a couple important questions in regards to each division of your retinue, though.

Who will take the dragons’s hare of the treasure with them?
>The injured—the Drow are allies, and these riches will be safer with them than in hostile territory
>Your own division—you will not let your hoard out of your sight, and where could it be safer than with you?

Do you have any special instructions for those returning to Drow-lands?
>Yes [specify]
>No

How do you plan to approach the kobolds, when you get there?
>A formal diplomatic entreaty, albeit an imperious one, demanding to speak with the rebels’ leader and asserting Reptilian authority
>Shock and awe—strike hard, and with great violence, and demand subjugation from the defeated while they are afflicted by the terror of you
>Stealthily, scouting them with your stealthier forces out before planning your next move
>With earnest and polite diplomacy—perhaps these misguided fools need merely be spoken with, rather than harshly disciplined?

[Write-ins allowed for all three]
>>
>>5299147
>>Commend them for saving your life—you might well have been dead without them
>>Promise them glories ahead, in your next campaign, and give them a share of the wealth you have acquired for their personal holdings

>Your own division—you will not let your hoard out of your sight, and where could it be safer than with you?

>Specific instruction : claim we have slain the rust monster thanks to dark god's boons. Evangelize.

>A formal diplomatic entreaty, albeit an imperious one, demanding to speak with the rebels’ leader and asserting Reptilian authority
>After all, Kobolds worship dragons. If they see our magnificience, they will rally unless they have something more dragonesque; in which case we can discuss to their dragon form equal to equal.
>>
>>5299147
>Commend them for saving your life—you might well have been dead without them
>Your own division—you will not let your hoard out of your sight, and where could it be safer than with you?
>Stealthily, scouting them with your stealthier forces out before planning your next move
>>
>>5299150
+1
>>
>>5299147
>Commend them for saving your life—you might well have been dead without them

>The injured—the Drow are allies, and these riches will be safer with them than in hostile territory

>With earnest and polite diplomacy—perhaps these misguided fools need merely be spoken with, rather than harshly disciplined?
>>
>>5299147
>Promise them glories ahead, in your next campaign, and give them a share of the wealth you have acquired for their personal holdings

>Your own division—you will not let your hoard out of your sight, and where could it be safer than with you?

>Yes [specify]
Don't mention the sword yet

>A formal diplomatic entreaty, albeit an imperious one, demanding to speak with the rebels’ leader and asserting Reptilian authority
>>
>>5299147
>Commend them for saving your life—you might well have been dead without them
>Your own division—you will not let your hoard out of your sight, and where could it be safer than with you?
>No
>With earnest and polite diplomacy—perhaps these misguided fools need merely be spoken with, rather than harshly disciplined?
>>
>>5299273
supporting
>>
>>5299273
+1
>>
>>5299147
>Commend them for saving your life—you might well have been dead without them
>Promise them glories ahead, in your next campaign, and give them a share of the wealth you have acquired for their personal holdings
You’ve done well lads.
>Your own division—you will not let your hoard out of your sight, and where could it be safer than with you?
Yea, not falling for the discount!Inky’s trick again.
>Yes [Don’t mention the sword, and make us look good (especially the Dragonborn)]
Prudent.
>Shock and awe—strike hard, and with great violence, and demand subjugation from the defeated while they are afflicted by the terror of you
A dragon takes what it wants.

>>5299018
The last one had more words than the first two combined, and stated that it was personalized by another (I assumed Mom) just for us. Even though I would’ve preferred the fire and combat abilities of Red or the splendor and leadership of Gold, you did sort of stacked the deck against those options with the mystery box. My favorite color is dark green btw, though royal purple would’ve been kino as well.
>>
>>5299147
>Promise them glories ahead, in your next campaign, and give them a share of the wealth you have acquired for their personal holdings

>Your own division—you will not let your hoard out of your sight, and where could it be safer than with you?

>Specific instruction: Inform then that our draconic strength led to the downfall of the rust monster. Pump up our image + don’t mention the sword.

>A formal diplomatic entreaty, albeit an imperious one, demanding to speak with the rebels’ leader and asserting our authority as a dragon
>>
>>5299562
[I'm not upset people chose Copper. If people were more interested in it, that's fine by me!]
>>
>>5299147
>>5299273
+1
>>
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[Vote locked, posting soon!]
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>>5299667
>>5299580
>>5299562
>>5299390
>>5299383
>>5299315
>>5299273
>>5299213
>>5299196
>>5299158
>>5299150
“Before we depart, there is something I wish to say,” you announce, making deliberate effort to look upon each and every member of the expedition—especially the forlorn injured embers of the retinue.

“Without each and every one of you, we would not have made it this far. -I- would not have made it this far. This is no warble of weak sentimentality—it is FACT. The Pit-Guard’s Apprentice saved me from what might have been a fatal impact, at cost of his own body. His senior, the Pit-Guard, fought bravely, and with incredible strength. The Archer, called Oluwadamilare, scored the decisive and fatal blow—not I. Before that, it was the intellectuals of the group who helped us to synthesize our potions, to make allies of the dark elves, and to navigate these foreign caverns. It was all of you who bested the bastard pants, who won duels and scored diplomatic victories, and who watched over one another as you slept. This is OUR victory, and I promise that it will be OUR reward!”

There is a silence among the assembled Reptilians, unused to such a conciliatory speech from a perceived Superior One. You recognize the source of the confusion. Why should the strong promise something to the weak, except to get something back? Only Glowie looks unabashedly pleased, wiggling slightly back and forth as you speak.

“I expect loyalty and continued excellence from each of you,” you say, helping to assuage the suspicion you have engendered. The understanding on an expectation helps to put them at ease. A cheer goes up.

“We will be taking our treasure to Bloodrise with us,” you say. “Those of you returning to the Drow—tell them what transpired here, but do not mention the hoard, and ABSOLUTELY do not mention the sword.”

There is no further explanation needed, no reticence to lie (by omission or otherwise) to mere mammals. Your departing followers all readily agree. With no further farewell necessary, they go their way, and you go yours.
>>
>>5299801
“What is your plan to deal with the kobolds?” the Novice asks, falling into step beside you at the head of the column.

“We will open diplomatic channels,” you say.

“With kobolds?” she asks, almost scandalized. “You might as well treat with common cave-lizards.”

“They’re still more Reptilian than the elves, and we negotiated with the,” you point out.

“Only because you wished to rut with their leader,” the Novice accuses.

“Because we are a race in decline, in need of allies,” you correct her. “What is your obsession with my mating inclinations, anyway?”

“As you have hastened to remind me, your reputation is this EXPEDITION’S reputation. MY reputation.”

“Then it will please you to know that there is no intent to approach the kobolds as equals. I am simply giving them a chance to recognize their betters, to receive our instructions, to apologize for their foolishness and submit to our will.”

“You really think that will work?” the Novice sneers.

“And why not?” you ask. “They are only kobolds.”

As you travel the last leg of the journey, the memories of your latest divine encounter, and that brief feeling of connection with a greatness preserved and prepared for you, both linger with you.

Do you speak to anyone about this?
>Yes [who?]
>No, keep your thoughts private

Do you make any additional preparations for the Kobolds of Bloodrise?
>Yes [what?]
>No

Sorry for the rather basic votes this time. Just want to give you fine folks a chance to tidy up loose ends before the next big 'arc' of diplomacy and/or warfare begins. I'll post again in three or four hours, probably, or else tomorrow morning
>>
>>5299804
>Yes [who?]
Glowie
what a great pal
feel like we can talk to her about anything
truly the best of friends

>Yes [what?]
Roll up looking impressive
be ready to use presence all over the place
just like constantly
full time presence
>>
>>5299804
>Yes [The Bastard, The Novice]
He will join us in being a dragon soon. He just needs a mentality change. As for the novice we already confided in her about death so why not again with this god? It'll certainly encourage her on the fleshweaving front.

>Yes [Train the "Kobold" into a model reptillian]
If the real Kobolds see this abomination of a thing serving us dutifully surely they'll feel a massive amount of shame that it is a better servant than them. It'll also be funny.
>>
>>5299804
>Yes [Novice and Glowie]
Our original confidants.
>Yes [what?]
Look regal and impressive, fearsome and powerful. Train our Dogbold into a proper servant. Find and capture some spiked devils. Divine our future. Talk to the Mother and the Beholder.
>>
>>5299813
>>5299815
Support
>>
>>5299804
>No, keep your thoughts private
>No
>>
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[Holding off until tomorrow, to give a few more people chances to get votes in, and enjoying what may end up serving as some inspiration for future events or quests...]
>>
>>5299804
Do you speak to anyone about this?
>Yes [The Bastard, The Novice]

Do you make any additional preparations for the Kobolds of Bloodrise?
>No
>>
>>5299815
Supporting this.

Those two are the most likely to throw off rigid caste structures and support our imperial draconic majesty
>>
>>5299804
>No, keep your thoughts private
>Yes
Practice our Fearsome Presence and coordinate to form an imposing formation with others. Will help to intimidate Kobolds into submission.
>>
>>5299815
+1
>>
>>5299977
>>5299973
>>5299954
>>5299952
>>5299878
>>5299865
>>5299856
>>5299815
>>5299813
You continue to consider matters theological as you press onward, but when you first come to est, you decide that there is something more practical to address first: The Junior Novice.

“You mean the False Kobold,” the Novice hisses.

“I know what I said, and what I have decided that it is called,” you say calmly.

“And you wish to… Train it?” she asks, incredulous. “Are we even sure it is sapient to the degree necessary to do so?”

“You tell me,” you say. “You have spent the most time with it.”

You both look down at the cowering wretch, still at the end of its chain. It has gained some confidence and comfort, having seemingly realized its fate is not a stew-pot or some other terrible fate, and having been fed a portion of the elf-feast and the Devourer’s corpse with the rest of your retinue (albeit the least-desirable portions). This has even resulted in it putting on weight, though no more hair has grown in. It is currently scratching itself, but when it notices you two staring, it ceases and chatters.

“I do not know,” the Novice admits. “We could try teaching it some simple phrases in True Speech, a command or two maybe. But why?”

“Imagine it,” you say, “the Kobolds of Bloodrise, witnessing a dragon-in-the-making—”
“Simmer down there, Degenerateborn of the Ultimate Ego,” the Novice teases.

“A DRAGON-in-the-MAKING, with such a lowly servant… And it serves better than them, like some parody.”

“…And a reminder that they can be replaced in our ranks, just as the Dark Gods put the fear into us with Glowie’s kind.”

You pause, reminded of your recent divine visit, and the revelations thus afforded you. Your mind is troubled anew. If the Novice notices, though, she says nothing.

Instead, over the next couple days of travel, the two of you spend much of your time together, especially when at rest, alternating praising and berating or punishing the Junior Novice—that uncanny dogbold—into some semblance of decency. You clad it in a layer of fabric fashioned from a damaged bag, and teach it the names of several simple objects (“coin”, “syringe”, “bandage”, “light-stick”, “rope”, etcetera), which you then stuff the pockets and pouches of that repurposed pack full of. By the time you are done, the Junior Novice can JUST about say a few simple words (“Yes, oh Superior One,” and “Hail the Dragonborn, Champion of the Dark Gods Beyond and Below” are quiet beyond it, but you THINK it managed “Yes” and “No”).
>>
>>5300244
More impressively, it can recognize and produce from its pack any of the items you thus request of it… Though the utility of this is limited by its being on a chain, and you still get the distinct impression that only the chain keeps it from fleeing at first opportunity.

“Good enough,” the Novice says, never especially invested in your little project, though you can tell she derives some amusement from it. “I don’t know that this will shame or demoralize any kobolds, necessarily, but it’s at least fairly amusing to watch this creature scamper about, so desperate to please. It almost IS like a kobold now, isn’t it?”

You nod, and throw the strange dogbold a snapped-off segment of dried meat, which it scampers after until it chokes at the end of its chain. You and the Novice both laugh together, before you allow your pet/minion its slim repast.

As her namesake gnaws at its treat, you confide in the Novice, finally, about your visit from the Serpent Ascendant. Like it or not, really is your oldest confidante and closest ‘friend’ besides your brother, the Great One, back at the northern forward base.


“You met another Dark God?” she scoffs. “Now you’re just making things up.”

“It’s the truth,” you assert. “I do not fully understand their interest in me, or what they expect of me, but… It was undeniably the Serpent Ascendant, Swallower of the Sun. He encouraged me to become a dragon not through blood and flesh alone, but force of will.”

“How does that differ from your own inner ambition?” the Novice points out. “You know, I’ve heard that you MAMMALS are prone to hallucinating while in torpor. Maybe you imagined it?”

“The Serpent Ascendant’s words are what provoked my newest spell. That <Earth Tremor> was born of that insight.”

“Well what else did he tell you, then?” she asks, sighing melodramatically, to indicate she still doubts your claims regardless.

Then, you tell her, and that façade crumbles. The Novice Fleshweaver goes quiet as you two walk—a rare occurrence, with her. She considers your words.
>>
>>5300246
“No Grand Design?” she whispers.

“The Dark Gods are in disagreement over the fate of our race, the way to defeat their foes and the races f the surface, their philosophical ideals…”

“They scarcely sound more organized than those on the surface and in the sky above it,” the Novice mutters, to your shock. “Still, if they jockey for power… For your attention, like a bunch of highborn males politicking… This could be to your advantage. You have your pick of them, or can simply play them all for favours.”

That is… Undeniably heresy. The Novice just openly spoke with disparagement and opportunism of the Dark Gods Beyond and Below! A Serpent Priestess by blood, and she says such things? What do you do?
>Lambaste her for her lack of piety, and force her to recant or else
>Ask why she is not more troubled by this discovery, for you certainly were
>Ask the Novice which dark deity she would choose as a patron, given the chance to be an Antipaladin
>You have to agree, honestly—the Dark Gods are great, but not so great as you had always imagined
>Write-in

[Interaction with the Bastard and, most likely, arrival at Bloodrise after work]
>>
>>5300248
>Ask the Novice which dark deity she would choose as a patron, given the chance to be an Antipaladin
>Think about a way to be complete Pantheon antipaladin
>>
>>5300251
+1; character development through introspection and questioning of motives
>>
>>5300248
>Ask why she is not more troubled by this discovery, for you certainly were

>You have to agree, honestly—the Dark Gods are great, but not so great as you had always imagined
>>
>>5300248
>Ask why she is not more troubled by this discovery, for you certainly were
>Ask the Novice which dark deity she would choose as a patron, given the chance to be an Antipaladin
>>
>>5300248
>Lambaste her for her lack of piety, and force her to recant or else
HERESY
>>
>>5300248
>Ask why she is not more troubled by this discovery, for you certainly were
>You have to agree, honestly—the Dark Gods are great, but not so great as you had always imagined
>>
>>5300248
>You have to agree, honestly—the Dark Gods are great, but not so great as you had always imagined
>Think about a way to be complete Pantheon antipaladin

I doubt the purity god will sponsor us no matter what we do. Might as well do a little think, though.
>>
>>5300248
>>You have to agree, honestly—the Dark Gods are great, but not so great as you had always imagined
If a paladin is the servant of a god, could not an antipaladin be a secular reptilianist?
>>
>>5300321
Supporting

The Gods are strong, but we clearly need to make our own success
>>
>>5299801
*bastard plants

[Post in-progress]
>>
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>>5300648
>>5300626
>>5300504
>>5300421
>>5300323
>>5300321
>>5300279
>>5300273
>>5300251
“You don’t seem very upset,” you note, a little perplexed by this response. “And isn’t this a heretical line of thought, for a Little Sister of the Serpent priesthood?”

The Novice rankles a little.

“You sound like Father, the Chaplain,” she says. “Think about it: is it not the height of foolishness to pledge fealty, loyalty, and unthinking faith to gods of self-reliance and opportunism? Gods who would, as we now KNOW, so readily abandon or forsake US?”

“You would rather you rather our Gods coddle us, like the weakling False Gods above?” you ask.

“No, I’d rather they be REALISTIC, as we should be, and treat this relationship as the symbiotic transactional cohabitation-of-the-soul which it truly is. We offer tribute to them, we do their will in life, and they give us boons to help us shape the world to their will, and a resting-place for our souls. If they fall behind on their obligations, what do WE owe to THEM?”

“And you don’t think disloyal talk like this will endanger your soul?”

The Novice fixes you with a withering look, making it clear that this is no new line of inquiry to her. You begin to understand more clearly how she lost her youthful allies.

“If I affect a great change in this world—advance the cause of Darkness, innovate in alchemy to the benefit of our race and our Gods… And those Gods deny me my reward because I didn’t sufficiently kowtow to them along the way… Why should I EVER desire to spend eternity with such beings?”

You and the Novice slow in your walk, and you glance back at yoru retinue. Theyr’e far-enough back that you hope—but not PRAY—they cannot hear.

“I… Agree,” you admit.

The Novice seems taken-aback to hear this.

“The Dark Gods are great and terrible,” you hasten to amend your statement. “I respect them immensely… Their power, their age and wisdom, their purpose… But we clearly need to make our own success. To beg for alms is insufficient, and of the Gods are divided, WE must be united.”

“…You are perhaps not the Meatheaded One for which I took you,” the Novice grudgingly admits, beginning to walk once more.
>>
Rolled 4, 1, 12, 12 = 29 (4d20)

>>5300839
You join her, quickly catching up with your longer strides and greater athleticism.

“In my position, though… Who would you worship?”

“Well, the Persector of the Weak is out,” she says without hesitation. “You are a mongrel, with a retinue of criminals, mammal-hybrids, and low-born detritus.”

“Present company included, Heretic,” you chide her, drawing an irritated hiss.

“I may be a heretic, but I am pure of blood and high of birth, DEGENERATE,” the Novice huffs. “But… Yes, I imagine that deity would frown on my practices and beliefs, also.”

“Then who would you pledge allegiance to?” you ask. “Maybe… All? None?”

“All is impossible, given their factionalism,” the Novice asserts. “None? Maybe. But a divine patron COULD be useful. It seems to me obvious that the Master of the Insightful Eye is the best option—a pragmatic master of magic and logic, reason and strategy. The rest of the Dark Gods have their faults and virtues, but facts do not care about your feelings, nor your ideals.”

“What of the Serpent Ascendant?” you ask... And then, remembering Glowie’s proposition, you add: “The Mother of Dragons, even?”

“The Sun-Eater is prideful, aspirant and idealistic… So it makes sense he would appeal to a muscle-minded, dragon-obsessed loner. But he is DRIVEN by illogic, by idealism. Your ‘meeting’ would seemingly give proof to this. And the Lady of the Rookery… She has bet against our race. I am no blood-purist, but I DO care for our people, somewhat. I would not abandon the entire Reptilian Race to obsolescence so readily.”

You suppose you need not even ask her opinion on DEATH, who just-as-readily works with the Gods of Light as your own pantheon.

When you make camp, hours after your discourse with the Novice, you summon the Bastard to your side for another round of meditation.

“Why do we bother?” he asks, bitterly. “You, oh Superior One… It makes sense for you to engage in this practice, for you advance by leaps and bounds with each attempt. But me? My bloodline is polluted, my spirit tarnished. My dragonhood… It is not in the grand design. I can accept this.”

“I cannot.”

The fierce certainty of your statement catches the Bastard off-guard, you can tell.

“I have met with the Dark Gids,” you say, “and I have found them…”

Disorganized. Disloyal, on a racial level. Inconsistent, at times.

“…Unconcerned with such things, for the most part,” you finish.

“So it is back to ‘believing in myself’, and in their plan for me,” the Bastard says, holding back a sigh.

“No.”
>>
>>5300841
He looks back at you, confused anew.

“It is about IGNORING the Gods’ plans, and focusing on YOUR plan—on YOUR desires and dreams, YOUR ambitions. Become strong, become WORTHY of the Gods, and they will be there when you reach the peak of that mountain.”

The Bastard stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head, saying nothing… But when you fall into meditation, he joins you wordlessly. The two of you meditate for hours together, apart from the others…

>1

…Only to find it fruitless. The Bastard roars in frustration, drawing gazes from across the twenty-meter alcove where you made camp. This only seems to frustrate and embarrass him further.

“It’s pointless!” he hisses. “This is… This is DELUDED, Dragonborn! I’m sorry, but you are better by right of BLOOD. This all works for you because you ARE a Dragon! We are lesser—myself most of all, except perhaps the Degenerates…A And even THEY are born with purpose, with distinct skills. I am a hybrid born of ill-conceived lust, a PURPOSELESS creature. My body is ill-suited to my father’s role, for my mother’s role… A lesser Steeltalon, a breathless Dragonblooded One, a MISTAKE.”

The others watch this surprisingly-emotional outburst with judgement. You sense their agreement with everything the Bastard says about himself.

“I am unworthy,” he mutters. “I cannot be a Dragon. Blood is truth.”

What do you do?
>Publicly admit your Degenerate birth, damaging the perception of the traditionalists In your retinue
>Continue to keep your secret, maintaining your status but leaving the Bastard with these doubts unanswered
>>
>>5300845
>Publicly admit your Degenerate birth, damaging the perception of the traditionalists In your retinue

Our retinue barely has any traditionalists at this point. It's mostly made up of pond scum.

I wouldn't have it any other way.
>>
>>5300845
>Continue to keep your secret, maintaining your status but leaving the Bastard with these doubts unanswered
If this gets out, our reputation tanks. Don’t sacrifice it over stupid mammalian sentimentality.
>>
>>5300845
>Publicly admit your Degenerate birth, damaging the perception of the traditionalists In your retinue

Paris and Oluniggawadamere will be encouraged
>>
>>5300845
>>Continue to keep your secret, maintaining your status but leaving the Bastard with these doubts unanswered
Let's kick some kobold ass first and then pull the wild card. No need to invite dissention before we complete the objective.
>>
>>5300845
You know every time so far we've meditated on this trip with the bastard it's been a NAT 1. Dice really don't like him.
>>
>>5300892
It’s a sign that the Dice Gods really don’t like him.
>>
>>5300877
+1

>>5300901
Serpent ascendant finds him too much of a bitch, not much we can do about that right now
>>
>>5300845
>Publicly admit your Degenerate birth, damaging the perception of the traditionalists In your retinue
>>
>>5300845
>>Continue to keep your secret, maintaining your status but leaving the Bastard with these doubts unanswered.

Moralizing the bastard isn't worth jeopardizing our polical position or having are retinue question us.

We can reval our birth after we supplant the current serpent priesthood for clan leadership.
>>
>>5300845
>Continue to keep your secret, maintaining your status but leaving the Bastard with these doubts unanswered
Reptilian quest is turning into friendship is magic once again, I see...
>>
>>5301116
Clearly the answer is mentalism
>>
>>5301147
You actually made me realize this cancerous growth of idiocy is better than the mentautism.
>>
>>5300845
>Continue to keep your secret, maintaining your status but leaving the Bastard with these doubts unanswered

All we can do it get him to continue to try

Sheer force of will is the natural response of our people
>>
>>5301153
Suuuure Ponyanon, enjoy your magic friendships.
>>
>>5300845
>Continue to keep your secret, maintaining your status but leaving the Bastard with these doubts unanswered
>>
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>>5301283
>>5301157
>>5301116
>>5301083
>>5301075
>>5301074
>>5300877
>>5300868
>>5300864
>>5300852
You shake your head in disagreement. You know well that that you have no more dragon-blood in your veins than the Bastard does. However, you look at the rest of your retinue, and see that virtually all of them understand the world in the same way the Bastard does—in the same way YOU did, until very recently, and still do on some level. Blood IS truth, or at least a foundation upon which the true self can be built. You were shaped from stranger clay than they all know, but would you breathe fire at all, or be able to master ANY magic, if you were not dragon-kin on some level. Instead, you just say:

“You have the blood of a Dragon King, the king of the very Blooodrise Mountains which we now trek beneath, in you. THAT is truth, however you came to have it. Take solace in that, and let it motivate you to keep striving.”

“…Yes, Dragonborn.”

The Bastard verbally agrees with you, and bows his head respectfully, but you can tell from his posture that he does not believe it. None of the others do, either, save perhaps for the Novice, and maybe Glowie—who KNOWS what she believes of such things? Even Paeris inherently understands the inferiority of his Degenerate nature, and thus the similar-but-distinct inferiority which must com with being a casteless hybrid.

And… Your own inferiority, if you were to reveal your true nature.

No, it is better you say nothing. The Novice nods , as if to agree with you in yoru decision to stay silent on this matter.

A short while later, you and your retinue pack up and begin moving again.
>>
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>>5301376
>>5299779
You begin to ascend out of the earth as you approach the Bloodrise mountain-range, once the territory of a mighty dragon-king. Beneath the surface of the earth, the terrain here is much the same as any other—unchanged since the days of the ancestors and their mighty kingdom. It is said that the Red Dragon King had a mighty empire, but in his cautiousness and in his pride, he would allow none but his own sons and grandsons to hold any position of importance therein—that THIS is the origin of the Dragonblooded caste, from which you and the Bastard both descend. However, even these mighty champions fell before the hordes of screeching mammals, their foul tactics and their meddling ‘gods’. In the end, the Reptilian Master Arce was driven down and away, and Bloodrise was purged of all its rightful heirs and looted of all its precious treasures. Only those beneath notice survived this genocide and were able to remain, hidden in crevices like crawling vermin.

Kobolds.

Still, they are REPTILIAN vermin, the direct descendants of claves and attendants of the Red Dragon, and it is better that they own this place than humans. The threat they bring is in acting without permission, in plumbing depths and accessing ancient ruins better suited to a superior race, and in drawing the threat of human armies or ‘adventurers’ discovering and plundering those few caches which remain… Maybe even if exploring the deeper and wider recesses of the earth and stumbling upon your people’s conspiracies.

You will explain the situation tot hem, and put these overambitious scoundrels back in their place.

It is after another half-day’s trek that you begin to see it—an eerie glow. You hesitate, reaching for your blade. Glowie crouches low as well, drawing nearer to you—for protection, or perhaps in a desire to protect YOU. The Novice, watching this, is unable to keep in her laughter.

“In all your bluster, I sometimes forget how sheltered and inexperienced you truly are,” she says.

You shoot a glare at the Novice; she speaks too freely and without necessary respect, given the proximity of the rest of you retinue. She seems to realize it, rattling with a more nervous laughter now.

“You know this glow?” you ask. “What is it?”

“The sun,” she answers, dryly.

You sheathe your blade, and stare at the yellow-white glow, shining into the cavern from around a corner. The sun… The surface… You’ve never seen it before. Not until now. Your retinue waits, beginning to cluster behind you. Most of them show none of your trepidation—they are infiltrators, merchants, elder warriors. Most have seen the sun. Some have maybe spent more of their live sin its realm than away from it.

You take a deep breath, and join them in the light.

“By the Hells and the accursed HEAVENS!” you roar, unable to help yourself. You shut your eyes, stumbling back and shielding your face. “That is BRIGHT.”
>>
Rolled 7, 10, 19 = 36 (3d20)

>>5301410
“You get used to it,” the Novice says, hip-checking you out of the way and striding past you, apparently unbothered.

The others deep breaths of the fresh air outside, filling mouths and lungs with great gulps of it—you can hear them doing so, but not see it. All you can see is white, blinding white. They give you your space, letting you acclimate… Except Glowie, who while she seemingly recovered faster from the solar affliction, stays close to you, and gently squeezes your hand.

“I am here” she whispers, nuzzling you.

You shrug her away, hoping none saw the undignified and improper show of affection. She does not go far, though—when your eyes adjust, Glowie is the first thing you see.

The next is the sky. The sky! It is… Everywhere, stretching INFINITELY! And endless blue!

Next, you see the Bloodrise Mountains themselves. Cracked spires and pierce that great blue expanse, like massive, greying bones of a dead monster—or dragon. Your gaze follows them down to the heavily-forested foothills around it. ‘Trees’, like the plantlife from your by-now hazy recollections of the Serpent Ascendant’s manifestation, encircle you like an army. You hear chittering, tweeting, rustling in them. You see something small and hairy scurry across the forest floor, and the Novice has to yank back on the Junior Novice’s chain to prevent the dogbold bolting after it. Above you, tiny creatures flit through the air between trees, so unlike the bats and bugs you are used to, or even the drake-newts in the deep caverns.

“Birds,” the South-Merchant tells you they are called.

“Northern blue-crested wood-tits,” the North-Merchant further specifies.

“They have a rather famous song,” Paeris further elucidates. “The elves call them ‘chickadees’ for it.”

“I… See,” you say.

You are half-tempted to ask after every plant and animal, but the exercise quickly make you feel embarrassed for your ignorance, like some oversized child. Besides, there are so MANY! Instead, you instruct the others to maintain vigilance, and follow the Cartographer.

“There should be no human settlements nearby to spy us,” the Novice says. “the kobolds have driven them away.”

“Humans get everywhere,” the Translator warns. “The Dragonborn is right to be cautious.”
>>
>>5301411

>19

However, it is not humans who present your first danger or obstacle, but kobolds. As you march forward, you feel a spike of your mana, flooding your muscles with nervous energy. Without knowing why, you take a sudden step back, and shout an alarm. You are just in time to prevent some sort of apparatus of crude, rusted iron and sharpened wood from snapping shut on your foot an ankle, as it explodes from the leaf-litter in respond to your passage.

“A trap!” Paeris exclaims, unnecessarily.

“Kobolds,” the Cartographer says, knowingly.

You are along a worn foot-path in the forest, and you become cognizant that it the forest on either side has risen higher in relation to it as you have progressed. You are in a dip now, a small valley. A perfect ambush point. And where kobodls set traps to ambush others…

“There!” Paeris cries out.

“I see it,” you affirm.

A kobold—a small, wiry creature of scale and sinew, with fine fingers and toes, oversized head and curious eyes which seem to move independently of one another, an thin lips from which small, spike-like teeth emerge in a nervous grin. Its upper face is covered in a mask of pale, dried and carved wood, while its mostly-unclad body is painted with dyes, in elaborate patterns of red swirls and glyphs. A male, by its colouration and build. It goes to run, seeing your inhuman—and no-doubt unexpected—forces, and the failure of the trap.

What do you do?
>Chase him down and capture him for information, and to use him as a guide
>Let him go, and announce your arrival—you are here for diplomacy, after all
>Use your Fearsome Presence and DEMAND that the kobold halt, and obey
>Kill it—you’re here for diplomacy, but you will START by making it clear what happens to slaves who strike their masters
>>
>>5301416
>Use your Fearsome Presence and DEMAND that the kobold halt, and obey
>>
>>5301416
>Use your Fearsome Presence and DEMAND that the kobold halt, and obey
then
>Pin its foot to the ground with an arrow
eye for an eye, yadda for yadda
>>
>>5301416
>Use your Fearsome Presence and DEMAND that the kobold halt, and obey
>>
>>5301416
>Use your Fearsome Presence and DEMAND that the kobold halt, and obey
>>
>>5301462
+1
>>
>>5301416
>Use your Fearsome Presence and DEMAND that the kobold halt, and obey
>>5301462
-1
>>
>>5301580
>-1
>>
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Rolled 7, 1, 17, 20 = 45 (4d20)

>>5301437
>>5301462
>>5301467
>>5301472
>>5301572
>>5301580

"STOP RIGHT THERE!"

You roar the command, letting your Presence fill your words with the weight of command...
>>
>>5301597
>20

And the kobold freezes stock-still, whimpering and yammering apologies in some distantly-derived dialect of the True Speech.

“Did not know! Did not know! Do not kill meeee!”

“Come here. Now.”

The kobold scurries towards you, dropping flat and pressing its face—its entire body—into the dirt.

“Did not know you were dragon! Would never hurt dragon!”

You can’t help but feel a little pleased with this instant recognition, and this reaction of submissive obedience. He is just a kobold, but it feels… Right. Moreover, it’s useful.

“Make it up to me, then,” you say. “Take me to your people, and to your leader.”

“B-b-b… But…”

The kobold looks up at your fearful of… Something else, something other than you. That’s no good. You narrow your eyes, adjusting your stance and focusing upon your Presence. The kobold yipes, and buries his head in the dirt again.

“But!” he shrieks, nevertheless.

“But WHAT?” you demand.

“But the OTHER dragon will be mad!”

“Other dragon?” the Novice asks, pushing her way through the retinue to join you in your interrogation.

You sigh. This female is utterly tactless and insubordinate. Still…

“Yes, what other dragon?”

“Our dragon! Kobold-dragon! The Dragonwrought!”

You blink a couple times, processing this. You’re… Unfamiliar with the term.

“A Dragonwrought kobold is a rare occurrence,” the Novice provides. “A throwback to earlier ages, to the kobolds’ overseers… Their highest classes.”

“They resemble dragons?” you ask, curious.

The novice shrugs. “So they say. I’ve never seen one, only read of them.”

“Bring me to this ‘Dragonwrought’,” you say.

“B-b-b”

“If he is angry,” you say, “I will handle him.”

The kobold cannot help but obey. You and your retinue follow him, as he leads you off the beaten path and through a series of half-hidden foot-trails. Thankfully, he seems well-appraised of all the traps in the area, as well he might be; none of you are injured, snared, netted, or fall into the strategically-placed pits of mud or sharpened sticks.

Do you ask the kobold anything as you travel? [Choose no more than two, please]
>Ask about the kobold—his name, his role, his purpose here
>Ask about the kobold clan here—their culture, their beliefs, their lifestyle
>Asl about the Dragonwrought—what does he look like? What is he capable? What kind of ruler is he?
>Ask about the excavations into the deep places—what have the kobolds found?
>Ask about the region, and its ecology and geography
>Ask about the other sapient inhabitants of the area—humans and such
>Write-in
>>
>>5301615
>Ask about the Dragonwrought—what does he look like? What is he capable? What kind of ruler is he?

>Ask whether the kobolds venerate the same Gods as you, as they should! Probably.
>>
>>5301615
>Ask about the kobold clan here—their culture, their beliefs, their lifestyle
>Ask about the excavations into the deep places—what have the kobolds found?
>>
>>5301615
>Ask about the kobold clan here—their culture, their beliefs, their lifestyle
>Ask about the excavations into the deep places—what have the kobolds found?
>Ask about the Dragonwrought—what does he look like? What is he capable? What kind of ruler is he?
>>
>>5301615
>Ask about the excavations into the deep places—what have the kobolds found?
>Ask about the excavations into the deep places—what have the kobolds found?
The rest we will either figure it out or does not matter as much
>>
>>5301619
>region
>sapient inhabitants
>>
>>5301615
>Ask about the Dragonwrought—what does he look like? What is he capable? What kind of ruler is he?
>Ask about the excavations into the deep places—what have the kobolds found?
>>
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>>5301645
>[Choose no more than two, please]
>>
>>5301615
>Ask about the kobold clan here—their culture, their beliefs, their lifestyle

>Ask about the other sapient inhabitants of the area—humans and such

>Ask if he recognizes his long lost cousin, the Junior Novice
>>
>>5301739
>>5301744
I wrote in a third but it's a very quick jokey third
>>
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>>5301744
[Kek, okay, I'll allow a third if it's something like that.]
>>
>>5301615
>Ask about the excavations into the deep places—what have the kobolds found?
>Ask about the Dragonwrought—what does he look like? What is he capable? What kind of ruler is he?
>Ask if he recognizes his long lost cousin, the Junior Novice
>>
>>5301751
>>5301744
>>5301675
>>5301652
>>5301647
>>5301625
>>5301619

“Kobold,” you say, “I have some questions for you to answer.”

The kobold yelps, and stands upright, stopping in his tracks.

“Walk and talk at the same time,” you instruct, and he does so. “Answer me in a forthright manner, or I’ll chain you like your cousin here.”

You gesture to the Junior Novice, and its handler—the Senior Novice—gives the chain a yank for emphasis. The kobold stares at the dogbold for some time, looking increasingly unnerved.

“…This was kobold, before you transformed it with terrible magic?” the kobold finally asks, in a horrified whisper.

You meet the Novice’s eyes, and she just shrugs. It seems nobody really knows what the Junior Novice is—not even in this country.

“I have heard that your clan has dug deep into the mountain” you say. “What have you found?”

The kobold’s eyes light up at this, and he starts to answer… Then seems to think better of it, snapping his jaws shut.

“Remember the terrible magic?” you coerce.

“T-treasure! Kobolds found treasure, from dragon-times, in the long-ago past! But… Me, was not there in that digging-down. Just know there was gold, silver, and magic.”

“What sort of magic?” you ask, curious.

“Rings, and gems which glowed, a cape, and a power that made kobold who led the digging into dragon!”


“The Dragonwrought became such as a result of the excavations?”

Your captive kobold guide nods, and explains: “Two kobolds went in—Hapo and Hako. Hako came out, Dragonwrought! Big and tall! Curly horns, big wings, all full of magic and wearing treasures!”

You consider this description, especially the wings—wings! The lucky kobold bastard.

“This ‘Hako’, the Dragonwrought, what sort of leader is he?”

And what sort of combatant?

“What is he capable of?” you say instead. “You said he is ‘full of magic’?”

“Hako is strong, terrible… Like you, Dragon,” your guide explains. “Became so powerful, even basilisk fears him, even human forest-wizard no match for him. Beat wizard, drove humans off, took their homes and shinies! Kept most shinies for himself but, well… Dragon.”

“’Took their homes’?” you repeat… But, a moment later, you understand.
>>
>>5301782
The kobold has led you through the foothills to a dilapidated town—small, ramshackle, and with wood-and-stone architecture that you recognize from your readings on humans of the Northlands. They are overgrown with plant-life, as if the forest moved in on them to reclaim the place, but with pig-iron and gumption, the kobolds have chopped this encroachment back and connected many of the homes with hide tarps, walkways, ropes, and more. Cords festooned with bells, for raising alarms, have been placed all around the perimeter. A well has been dug deeper, widened out, and now better resembles a mine-shaft; you see kobold workers busying themselves with entering with empty pails, and exiting with them full of water or debris.

“This battle with the humans… It was some time ago, then?” you ask, noting the trees.

“Oh no,” the kobold says, “Last spring? Less than year.”

“But the growth of these plants, the disrepair, how did it get so bad?” the Novice says, giving voice to your own thoughts.

“Forest wizard of humans was MAD, and battle was BIG. Houses all damaged, and then forest attacked as wizard ran. Didn’t catch many humans, and we had to fight trees for a while.”

“Fight… Trees?” you ask, suddenly feeling VERY uncomfortable with the number of trees around you-everywhere! Are these like the plants of the underdark, who attacked you early in your expedition?!

“They stopped while ago,” the kobold assures you. “Spell was temporary.”

Well, that’s reassuring, at least.

“Announce us,” you say, as the kobolds begin to take notice of your group and to chatter excitedly among themselves. “Tell the Dragonwrought that the Master Race ahs sent an envoy, to speak about what he has been doing.”

“In other words: you are under new management,” the Novice says smugly.

The kobold gulps, and runs off to do so. You stride into the settlement, ducking under the alarm-ropes and paying little heed to the kobolds who slink back away rom you and your retinue, wailing, or bowing their heads, or both.

Central to this settlement, you find a tall totem of some sort depicting a ram-horned dragon-like figure, and a panoply of bat-like humanoids, and topped with a human skull. Several more skulls decorate the bottom of this pillar. You do not recognize what Dark God it is meant to pay tribute to.

Eventually, the kobold you drafted runs back, breathless, and tells you that the Dragonwrought ahs agreed to meet with you.

“By the basilisk-pit,” the kobold says. “Come, follow please!”

What do you do?
>Follow the kobold
>Demand that the Dragonwrought come meet you here, without distractions—you will NOT be summoned by a kobold
>Command the kobolds to take you to the excavation site, to have a look for yourself at the source of the mess
>Write-in
>>
>>5301797
>>Follow the kobold
Let's see how it goes. More humiliating for him to be defeated on his throne room if he turns out to be a jerK.
>>
>>5301797
>Follow the kobold
>>
>>5301797
>Follow the kobold

If we faster would have seen fight?
>>
>>5301814
[Nah, you've only bee traveling for about two-and-a-half weeks.]
>>
>>5301797
>Follow the kobold.

>>5301814
Nah, traveling through the underground instead of the surface added two weeks to our time. The we spent and extra week with the dark elves and a few days trending to our wounded after the rust monster fight.

Combined pur trip took about a month and half i guess. While the kobald implies that the druid village battle was decided last spring. Which implies a couple months.
>>
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>>5301826
>Nah, you've only bee traveling for about two-and-a-half weeks.]
>>5301814
Never mind i guess im retarded and can't count.
>>
>>5301834
[No worries. I haven't been super diligent about tracking time, and underground it hardly mattered, especially once you went all diplomacy on the Drow AND killed a giant monster to restock your rations. It was more or less a week before you met the Drow, three days there, and then about a week traveling through (and resting in) the Devourer's territory, and finally a few days to exit it and reach the surface.]
>>
>>5301797
>Follow the kobold
>>
>>5301797
>Demand that the Dragonwrought come meet you here, without distractions—you will NOT be summoned by a kobold
What if the basilisk pit is a trap? Besides, we're here to put kobolds in the place, not to follow their orders.

>>5301840
How far away are we from our home base now? And how far from the underground entrance we arrived from?
>>
>>5301840
Hmm i see.

By the way qm, If the serpent priest run scalykind enclave we belong too, and the kobalds of this mountain, Both used to be underneath the red dragon.

How did the kobalds become independent? Did the serpent priesthood just feel it wasn't worth effort of reestablishing control of the area until now? Or did they not know a kobald population still lived in the blood rise mountainside?
>>
>>5301845
>What if the basilisk pit is a trap? Besides, we're here to put kobolds in the place, not to follow their orders.

If the basilisk pit is a trap we can just earthquake the kobalds to disrupt them.

Bedsides which the kobald dragon-wrought seems to be a powerful war leader. Challenging him openly before even meeting him could lead to a fight while we down a few soldiers.
>>
>>5301854
Not challenging, just ordering him to meet us. As for the trap, we don't know what actually awaits us there and not everything can be easily solved by earthquakes or brute force.
>>
>>5301845
>How far away are we from our home base now? And how far from the underground entrance we arrived from?
[About 150 miles away from the base you were born in, and a half-day's travel from the entrance to the subterranean realm where you emerged.]

>>5301850
>How did the kobalds become independent? Did the serpent priesthood just feel it wasn't worth effort of reestablishing control of the area until now? Or did they not know a kobald population still lived in the blood rise mountainside?
[The Reptilian race is dramatically depopulated and mostly operates in secret. They lack the manpower or organization to really rally the kobolds, and also think fairly lowly of them as a general rule and didn't bother to loop them in on their plans. The Serpent Priesthood only started to pay any attention to them when the kobolds started causing trouble and they heard reports that they were digging into old dragon treasures, kickstarting this plot.]

>>5301845
>>5301844
>>5301814
>>5301811
>>5301809
[Vote locked. Posting soon!]
>>
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>>5302021
Though it is perhaps not the most dignified of starts to your diplomatic entreaty, you deign to meet this Hako Dragonwrought at his chosen location: the basilisk pit.

“…It seems like a trap,” Glowie notes quietly.

“I find I must agree with the worm,” the Novice notes. “Kobolds are notorious for their traps.”

“Maybe,” you say, unworried. “But have you forgotten? I can divine incoming danger. I can breath fire. I can shake the very EARTH.”

“Are you immune to being turned to stone with a sideways glance?” the Novice asks. “No? Then perhaps, Oh Great and Powerful Dragonborn, it is a good idea to utilize some modicum of caution?”

“Worried about me?” you tease.

“About us all!” the Novice laments.

“I am with you,” Glowie says, resting her tail against yours.

“S-sickening,” the Novice laments, buts eh too follows close behind.

Your retinue masses around you, preventing flanking, scanning for surprises. No kobold dares move against your force, recognizing instinctively the superiority of your Master Race… or simply being terrified to move against such a formidable band.

The kobolds’ own numbers seem relatively limited, compared to tales you have heard of their population growth-rate. They are almost akin to reptilian goblins, if the stories are to be believed, but you see no horde here—counting the hatchlings you see hurried into stolen homes, there can be no more than a hundred throughout this entire village.

“They could easily surround and swarm us,” the Bastard notes grimly.

“They have crossbows, slings,” Paeris adds. “They have taken up high positions… They could pepper us with a single volley and slaughter us all.”

You’re shocked at their analysis, so much less optimistic than your own.

“All I see are frightened whelps,” you say, jutting your proud chin forward and striding boldly in a show of confidence.

This seems to put your forces at ease, but as you take more notice of the kobolds’ nervous preparations, you feel your inner peace waning. At least the ‘basilisk pit’ is situated far enough from the bulk of housing that you can no longer be swarmed a, bombarded, or surrounded suddenly with the ease your warriors were dreading.

…But then, there IS the basilisk.
>>
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>>5302047
Looking down into the fenced-off corral the kobolds have made for it, you cannot understand how these little weaklings ever managed to entrap such a thing. It is at least twenty feet long, from tip of beak to fork of tail. It has a crown-like waddle six powerful limbs, and a thick trunk. It is not chained, no restrained in any way—only the depth of the pit and the flimsy fence keep it contained.. And yet, it makes no move to leave the enclosure, nor does it struggle across the blindfold affixed to its face.

“How did they manage such a thing?” The South-Merchant asks aloud.

“Your leader knows,” a high-pitched voice relies, with the distinct accent of these kobolds.

You look up, and see a tall, lean figure, bundled in a cloak and standing atop a rock which just out precipitously over the basilisk pit—easily as tall as a Steeltalon, if somewhat shorter than you, and Definitely taller than any kobold you have ever seen. A face not unlike that of the other kobolds looks down at you with a sickening superiority. It is crowned by two curled horns, like those of a ram. And there's something else: a pressure, in your mind and soul, a friction against your own powerful will. A Fearsome Presence.

>>5270654


“The Dragonwrought, I presume?” you address the cloaked figure.

“And they call you… DragonBORN, yes?” the Dragonwrought responds in kind. “Why you here, in my place?”

“To assert order, in the name of the Dark Gods and the Serpent Priesthood.”

The five or six other kobolds here, most of them chopping meet or moving basilisk dung, watch the exchange nervously. Your own forces are tense. You sense a cold-blooded hostility in your opposite number.

“We not heard from any Serpent Priesthood in hundred years, two hundred,” the kobold leader spits. “Not heard from Dark Gods, either. What they want with us now?”

“They do not appreciate your invasion of ruins which are not yours to excavate,” you say, “nor the attention to bring by attacking humans so aggressively.”

The Dragonwrought laughs.

“When THEY do something about humans coming closer-and-closer to our place, they tell us how to do things,” he says. “Even then, things in OUR mountains are OURS. If they want, should have stayed, when Big Red died. Not run-and-hide, STAY. Kobolds did.”

What do you do?
>Offer to bring these kobolds back into the fold, if they assume a proper posture of subservience
>Apologize for the lack of communication between your races, but assure them that kobolds are a valued part of the coming Age of Scales
>Ask to converse in private with this Hako, dragon-to-dragon, to find some common ground
>Challenge the Dragonwrought to combat for the disrespect he is showing you and the Master Race
>Order an attack—kill the leader now, and then terrify his servants into compliance with the righteous order of the Serpent Priesthood
>Write-in
>>
>>5302052
>Challenge the Dragonwrought to combat for the disrespect he is showing you and the Master Race

It is the obvious solution and I have full faith in our martial prowess
>>
>>5302052
>Ask to meditate with the Dragonwrought. To perhaps find common ground.

I suspect this thing might be closer to demon than dragon. Let's meditate with it to see if there's actual commonality or if it's just a demon in dragon's scales. We've meditated with the great one enough to be able to tell the difference.

And if it's an actual Dragonwrought perhaps we'll reach reach understanding with it after deep dragon meditation.
>>
>>5302052
>Ask to converse in private with this Hako, dragon-to-dragon, to find some common ground
oh damn he has his own presence
>>
>>5302052
>Ask to meditate with the Dragonwrought. To perhaps find common ground.
>Ask to converse in private with this Hako, dragon-to-dragon, to find some common ground

Converse and meditate
>>
>>5302052
>Ask to converse in private with this Hako, dragon-to-dragon, to find some common ground
>Offer to bring these kobolds back into the fold, if they assume a proper posture of subservience
Coming here was stupid, let's get him back to surface.
>>
>>5302052
>Order an attack—kill the leader now, and then terrify his servants into compliance with the righteous order of the Serpent Priesthood
>>
>>5302052
>Order an attack—kill the leader now, and then terrify his servants into compliance with the righteous order of the Serpent Priesthood
>>
>>5302052
>>5302088
>Ask to meditate with the Dragonwrought. To perhaps find common ground.
Great idea.
>>
>>5302078
>>5302088
>>5302147
>>5302162
>>5302272
>>5302292
>>5302297
>>5302345
“This is a matter better discussed in private,” you suggest, nodding to the nervous kobolds in attendance, ad to your tense retinue.

“Afraid to speak up in front of audience?” the Dragonwrought asks.

You restrain a retort, instead taking a diplomatic posture: “I just think we should discuss our grievances without turning it into a show. It does neither of us any good.”

The kobold leader stares down at you, pensive, but eventually nods.

“I suppose this fine,” he says. “After all, no danger for ME.”

The Dragonwrought strides out of the pit, and you follow. Your retinue attends to you, but you shrug away Glowie and wave the others to stay back. This may be the most egotistical kobold in the world, and it’s time to figure out why, and what dangers and opportunities this being may present to your own people.

The kobold leader does not turn around to beckon or guide you, instead simply assuming you will follow; you suppose he can probably feel your own Fearsome Presence, as you feel his, so he can do this with some confidence. You likewise feel the dozens of eyes boring into you from all sides as you traverse the once-human township, headed towards a large cabin which has the size and central location appropriate to a headman’s house.

At the door, the Dragonwrought does something peculiar, though: he throws his cloak open, obscuring his form as he opens the door, and then wraps it tightly around him once more as he enters. He leaves the door ajar. You enter behind him, bowing your head slightly to avoid your helm’s horns banging against the frame, and you shut the portal behind you.

The interior is… Strange, alien in its exoticness. Where you are from, such quantities of surface wood would be unthinkable luxury, and likewise the wool and spun plant-matter necessary to give so many of the wooden chairs frivolous cushioning. The kobold couture which now decorates the human architecture is scarcely more familiar: curiously-shaped, carefully-polished stones stacks here and there, rough and raw gemstones set on the mantle of an empty fireplace in order of ascending size and colour.

“…I see you have made a hoard for yourself, ‘dragon’,” you note, as politely as you can manage.

The Dragonwrought settles into a high-backed chair with woven fabric over its arms, at the end of a long table, like a throne, and simply nods.
>>
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>>5302447
You squint at the gems, and ask: “Are these the magic stones, from the place where you gained your power, then?”

The Dragonwrought hisses.

“Kobolds talk too much,” he says. “No, keep the magic shinies in secret place… Or with me.”

You scan his body, still shrouded in that cloak, hiding whatever rings or gems he might be wearing.

“Properly paranoid,” you say.

“Your minions carry your hoard,” the kobold leader notes. “Hear it jingle-jangle in packs, when they walk. Clinks like coin.”

“Yes, we had some fortune on the way here,” you say. “We’re bringing it back with us, when we’re done… To the Serpent Priests.”

The Dragonwrought laughs quietly, until it turns to a mocking sneer.

“Why? It yours. What dragon gives away treasure?”

How do you reply?
>“It is my duty—and YOUR duty—to support the effort to restore our races to a new Age of Scales, and the Serpent Priests are best suited to organize our resources to achieve this.”
>“The Serpent Priesthood are a powerful enemy to have. I would not anger them. You shouldn’t want to, either.”
>“You know, you’re right… Maybe I’ll keep it. But we should still discuss your activities here… And the danger they pose to us, regardless of our feelings about the Priesthood.”
>“There are many aspects of dragonhood, besides treasure. Surely you, too, understand this. Maybe we can meditate on this—commune with our Empathy, find common ground that way?”
>"Listen here, you little shit, you will watch your tone when speaking to your betters. What are you hiding under that cloak?"
>Write-in
>>
>>5302449
>“There are many aspects of dragonhood, besides treasure. Surely you, too, understand this. Maybe we can meditate on this—commune with our Empathy, find common ground that way?”

We don’t need to see what’s under his cloak. We’ll feel be able to feel it through meditation. We’ll see whether he’s dragon or not.
>>
>>5302449
>>“There are many aspects of dragonhood, besides treasure. Surely you, too, understand this. Maybe we can meditate on this—commune with our Empathy, find common ground that way?”
>>
>>5302449
>“There are many aspects of dragonhood, besides treasure. Surely you, too, understand this. Maybe we can meditate on this—commune with our Empathy, find common ground that way?”
>>
>>5302449
>“There are many aspects of dragonhood, besides treasure. Surely you, too, understand this. Maybe we can meditate on this—commune with our Empathy, find common ground that way?”
>>
>>5302449
>"Listen here, you little shit, you will watch your tone when speaking to your betters. What are you hiding under that cloak?"
>>
>>5302449
>"Listen here, you little shit, you will watch your tone when speaking to your betters. What are you hiding under that cloak?"
OP posted a picture of 3 kobolds under a cloak... I betcha it's important.
>>
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>>5302450
>>5302457
>>5302471
>>5302521
>>5302538

“There are many aspects of dragonhood, besides treasure,” you say. “Surely you, too, understand this.”

The Dragonwrought huffs, saying “Obvious, yes. Power. Flight.”

You cringe a little at that last one. You’ve not seen these alleged wings which this kobold ahs grown, not yet, but it seems that rumour was true. You feel a pang of anvy.

“Maybe we can meditate on this—commune with our Empathy, find common ground that way?”

“Not understand,” the Dragonwrought says.

You explain how, back home, you would meditate with the other Dragonborn to get in touch with your draconic heritage and the true essence of what it was to be a Dragon, and that it helped bring you closer together, and to even understand one another in a way that dialogue could never achieve.

“…Not understand,” the kobold leader repeats, now seeming quite uncomfortable with the idea. “You want know something, tell me what you want know. I tell, if want to tell.”

You persist, though, and eventually the Dragonwrought relents. You both close your eyes, bow your heads, and allow both your Presences to enmesh, rather than pushing back against one another, jockeying for space in the room you share.

…Wait, not ‘both’ your Presences. ‘All’ you presences!

In addition to feeling utterly unlike any other draconic Fearsome Presence you have touched upon before—or even the vestige of one buried deep in the Bastard—you feel MULTIPEL presences in the room with you… All centred upon the Dragonwrought. Two small, scaly spirits, bound up in a twisted knot of other, half-formed or half-dead souls…

And at the centre of it all, a darkness, completely unfamiliar to you. Not a living soul. Not a Dark God. Something… Other.

...Something monstrous.

What do you do?
>Reach out to this collective of consciousnesses in open invitation
>Recoil from this horror, and break the spiritual connection
>Attempt to force your will upon this collective, and to rip it asunder
>Write-in
>>
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>>5302598
Oops, sorry, was already writing.
>>
>>5302599
>In addition to feeling utterly unlike any other draconic Fearsome Presence you have touched upon before—or even the vestige of one buried deep in the Bastard—you feel MULTIPEL presences in the room with you… All centred upon the Dragonwrought. Two small, scaly spirits, bound up in a twisted knot of other, half-formed or half-dead souls…
Oh, fug, it's two kobolds (Hapo and Hako) and one dracolich in a trenchcoat.

>Attempt to force your will upon this collective, and to rip it asunder
Bitch. (Also Death would totally want us to kill this thing.)
>>
>>5302599
>Attempt to force your will upon this collective, and to rip it asunder

Death will be pleased
>>
>>5302599
>Reach out to this collective of consciousnesses in open invitation
ayo wassup horrifying conglomerate of souls
>>
>>5302599
>Attempt to force your will upon this collective, and to rip it asunder
>>
>>5302599
>Attempt to force your will upon this collective, and to rip it asunder
>>
>>5302599
>Attempt to force your will upon this collective, and to rip it asunder
Face your punishment, Pretender
>>
Rolled 15, 12, 7, 1 = 35 (4d20)

>>5302636
>>5302629
>>5302623
>>5302618
>>5302615
>>5302604
Those two kobolds which your guide spoke of—Hako and Hapo—went down into that excavated ruin together, but only Hako returned, remade as the Dragonwrought… Or so it had seemed to their fellows. You see it all clearly now, and you know better. They had BOTH returned, somehow bound together into this… this PRETENDER to dragonhood, bound into a false Dragonwrought by this third entity—this abominable amalgam of life and death.

In this gestalt entity, however, you see opportunity—an opportunity to end this upstart kobold rebellion against the Serpent priesthood, and to perhaps pay your debt to the God of Death in the process. After all, this… THING inside the Dargonwrought… It cannot possibly be to Lord of Ending’s liking, can it? Peering into the chimeric crevices of this conjoined creature, you think you see cracks in its matrix—schisms between the souls. If you but focus your will like a knife, wedge it just so in the instinctively-submissive kobold subconscious, and wheedle it into the space between the three spirits…

[Reptilian Empathy check, with a bonus for Spellcraft, DC 15/17/19]
>>
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>>5302710
“No! Enough! GET OUT!”

The Dragonwrought—or its constituent selves—realize what you are doing, feel your intentions shift from communion to invasion and assault. They push back against you, trying tod rive you out…

>15

…And they succeed, but not before you are able to inflict some damage. You open your eyes and stand up, even as the Dragonwrought does likewise across the table… But then, he (they?) doubles over in pain, wailing and thrashing. Its cloak flies away, exposing its true form: an elongated body, almost like two kobold’s torsos spliced into each other, one set of ribs ending in a pair of shoulders with short, kobold-sides limbs reaching out from it, and another torso sitting atop those shoulders where normally a neck and head would be situated. In that place is a second face, but it is half-absorbed, empty eyes scrunched shut and mouth open in a silent scream at the disjunction you have inflicted. Scanning up this being’s form, you see the second torso, the upper one, has much longer arms, more proportional to its lanky frame… And, indeed, great wings like a bat’s flapping fruitlessly against the floor and smashing into the table as the Dragonwrought thrashes and screams.

Each of its clawed hands wears a single ring—a magical artifact of old. One is a simple, thick silver band with glyphs upon it. Another is gold, crested by three gems: emerald, ruby, and sapphire. The third is a black ring made of many separate, interwoven strips of metal, with a green gem like an eye. The last is a gold band capped with a smooth, almost perfectly-clear stone.

You stare in horror for a moment, then draw your blade. You know your success was limited—can sense the monstrous pretender’s weaker wills being brought back to heel beneath the overmind. Its Fearsome Presence, banished briefly by your own, is beginning to take shape once more. You must take action now, before it can retaliate.

What action will you take?
>Go for the head—go for the kill!
>Sever a limb [which one] to remove one of the rings (or wings) from play
>Use your firebreath to set this building ablaze, and make an escape to rally the rest of your forces to war
>Demand surrender, on threat of destruction
>Write-in
>>
>>5302726
This thing is already some screwed-up zombie amalgam thing, I wouldn't be surprised if it'd survive the head being chopped off.

>Sever a limb [which one] to remove one of the rings (or wings) from play
Interwoven strips of metal seems like the evilest of the four.
>>
>>5302728
+1
>>
>>5302728

Backing this. Probaby better to inflict some damage and remove whatever protection the ring provides.

I doubt a decapitation would be straightforward process given the weirdo fusion aspect of this thing.
>>
>>5302726
>Sever the wings
We can't actually fly, so it's better to cut them off before they become a problem.
>>
>>5302728
+1
>>
>>5302740
>We can't actually fly, so it's better to cut them off before they become a problem.
We're inside a cabin right now, so as long as we box it in we should be able to stop it from seriously taking flight. (I hope.)
>>
>>5302726
>Sever a limb [which one] to remove one of the rings (or wings) from play.
>-The third is a black ring made of many separate, interwoven strips of metal, with a green gem like an eye.

The kobalds did say that Hako's new form was via magic. One of those rings may be responsible for keeping his unnatural body together.
>>
>>5302726
>Sever a limb [which one] to remove one of the rings (or wings) from play.
>-The third is a black ring made of many separate, interwoven strips of metal, with a green gem like an eye.
I bet he can regenerate the wings
>>
Rolled 16, 20, 8 = 44 (3d20)

>>
>>5302787
welp I hope that's our roll
>>
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>>5302787
>>5302781
>>5302769
>>5302741
>>5302740
>>5302734
>>5302730
>>5302728

Decapitating a monster with two heads and uncertain mortality seems less certain a path to victory than it might be under normal circumstances, so you opt to go for a limb. You have precious time to assess the rings, but even that quickly glance gave you a good idea of which might be the most related to this foul entity’s amalgamated state of being: the black ring with its green eye-stone. Interwoven metal, interwoven flesh… It just seems intuitive and, perhaps more pressingly, its design screams ‘cursed artefact’ with such volume that it’s a wonder even a kobold would ever put it on.

>20

You move swiftly, raising your new elven moon-blade and bringing it down. The kobold-creature screams, and the white blade is christened in blood. The offending limb is amputated most efficiently… And that’s when things get REALLY weird.

The Dragonwrought twists and spins in place, wings flapping violently. From its contorted form explode many small shapes: two kobolds, first and foremost, but also what look like stillborn hatchlings of other reptilian entities: a basilisk, like the one corralled outside, and…

“A dragon hatchling,” you gasp, feeling almost sacred outrage.

It is unmistakable: it is a small, half-mummified corpse, but its proportions and shape are that of a dragon, with red scales attesting to its parentage.

“You… DARE?!” you roar, sending the already sickly looking duo of kobolds—one of them now one-armed—into a panic.

However, they do not apologize: instead, they turn upon you in rage.

“No! Give back! Give back our power!” he shrieks.

A solid backhand with your gauntlet-clad hand is all the retort you need… But the other kobold, who you recognize as Hako insofar as he still wears the familiar ‘Dragonwrought’ face, lifts a limb and points the three-stoned ring at you with what is unmistakably deadly intent. Worse, you spy motion out of the corner of your eye, and to your horror and frustration, the severed limb has animated, and warped somewhat into a strange creature crawling about on heavily-articulated fingers-turned-legs, with the stump of the arm raised above it like a scorpion’s tail…. And it is headed for the exit.

You cannot be everywhere at once. You have to act fast. What do you do?
>Focus on preventing the possessed limb’s escape
>Focus on preventing Hako from using his ring
>Use <Earth Tremor> to bring the cabin down on all of you, stopping both at great personal risk
>Write-in

>>5302802
https://i1.sndcdn.com/artworks-nUHsk4rJ0uJygc7q-czWeIA-t500x500.jpg
>>
>>5302804
>Use <Earth Tremor> to bring the cabin down on all of you, stopping both at great personal risk
I mean, I think we're at great personal risk if we let the evil abortion arm escape and if we let this guy zap us, so may as well take them down with us.
>>
>>5302807
I guess another option is
>Use Fearsome Presence on the kobolds to stop them in their tracks while we dart for the exit and block the hand
But I don't know if that would be any easier.
>>
>>5302804
>>Focus on preventing Hako from using his ring

We can catch the fleeing arm after we avoid having our face melted off?
>>
>>5302804
>Focus on preventing Hako from using his ring

wtf is the severed limb going to do? all our homies are outside and the kobolds aren't about to entertain that thing
>>
>>5302804
>Write-in
>Breathe fire at Hako
>>
>>5302804
>Focus on preventing Hako from using his ring
>>
>>5302804
>Focus on preventing Hako from using his ring

We'll have to hunt it down later.
>>
>>5302804
>Focus on preventing Hako from using his ring
>>
Rolled 19, 7, 4 = 30 (3d20)

>>5302807
>>5302811
>>5302814
>>5302821
>>5302836
>>5302849
>>5302868
>>5302878
The arm can wait. Your forces are outside, after all, and what can a reanimated, detached limb really do? No, better to focus your attention on the imminent threat: Hako the Kobold, no longer Dragonwrought, and his magic ring.
>>
>>5302891
Aw yeah we got that 19
>>
>>5302891
>>5302899
“Kill you!” the kobold screeches.

You open your mouth to reply… In the form of a gout of flame. The kobold screams one more time, before being drowned out by the roar of the blaze consuming him. You rush forward, throwing the table between you aside and stomping the already-burning kobold to death unceremoniously, and in the process putting out the fire before it can endanger the magical rings and other wealth of this place—YOUR wealth, now, or at least that of your patrons.

When this is dealt with, you barrel out of the large cabin and into the open space again, where things have fallen into what could charitably eb referred to as ‘utter chaos’. Your forces have engaged with the kobolds, your retinue beset on all sides the moment that the sounds of shouting and combat erupted from within. That much makes sense, you suppose, but it does little to mollify you when you see that damned detached hand scampering straight for the basilisk pit, largely unnoticed and certainly not stopped by any of your allies.

On the subject of your allies, they are all pinned behind overturned carts and other such obstacles to avoid a hail of crossbow bolts and sling-stones, just as Paeris and the Bastard had earlier anticipated. They return fire, but with mixed results. Paeris returns fire with his own bow, while singing an elven battle-dirge which fills your spirit and body with an uncanny vigor. The Novice lobs vials filled with some sort of noxious potion. Glowie, while she could spit his goo-covered silk, remains frustratingly ineffectual; she is determined not reveal her true nature, it seems, as per your standing orders, but this leaves her with little she can do to help. The other, more intellectually-inclined members of your party do what they can, but the kobolds are surprisingly savage, and have evident practical skill beyond anything that (for example) the Translator or Cartographer can match.

What do you do?
><Jump> after the escaping hand, and leave your allies to their own devices
>Aid your allies by drawing your bow and returning fire
>Set the whole place ablaze with another burst of dragonfire, destroying this settlement and the kobolds therein [will kill hatchlings, and expend the last of your firebreath for this encounter]
>Bank on the Fearsome Presence to terrify the kobolds into compliance, now that they lack a leader
>Write-in
>>
>>5302909
>Use <Guidance> and shoot an arrow through the fleeing hand

Ideally this will hit and then we can stay and help party knowing the hand is trapped by the arrow. If it doesn’t hit we’ll still stay and help the party but the hand will probably get away.
>>
>>5302909
>Set the whole place ablaze with another burst of dragonfire, destroying this settlement and the kobolds therein [will kill hatchlings, and expend the last of your firebreath for this encounter]
>>
>>5302909
>Bank on the Fearsome Presence to terrify the kobolds into compliance, now that they lack a leader.


We need to suppress the kobalds now, before the cursed hand releases the basilisk.
>>
>>5302909
>Bank on the Fearsome Presence to terrify the kobolds into compliance, now that they lack a leader
>Use <Guidance> and shoot an arrow through the fleeing hand
>>
>>5302909
>Bank on the Fearsome Presence to terrify the kobolds into compliance, now that they lack a leader
>Use <Guidance> and shoot an arrow through the fleeing hand
>>
>>5302909
>Bank on the Fearsome Presence to terrify the kobolds into compliance, now that they lack a leader
>Use <Guidance> and shoot an arrow through the fleeing hand
we gotta recover those dead hatchlings
>>
>>5302965
+1
>>
Rolled 13, 8, 7, 17, 19, 16, 7, 19, 19 = 125 (9d20)

>>5302920
>>5302931
>>5302942
>>5302943
>>5302951
>>5302965
>>5302973
Though it divides your attention, you cannot bring yourself to either abandon your forces OR let the thing possessing the detached get away to release the basilisk… Or whatever it is that it has planned. Instead, you jam the moon-blade into your belt, draw your bow, and notch an arrow, while also channeling every bit of draconic authority you can muster into a single intimidating bellow:

“ENOUGH,” you shout, loud enough to be heard over the madness of combat.

You close your nictating membranes to block out the distractions of mundane sight, trust in your divination, and let your arrow fly.

[4d20 Reptilian Empathy + Intimidation, 3d20 Ranged Combat (DC 10, for using Guidance), 2d20 enemy/environment probability dice]
>>
>>5302999
Everyone seems to have gotten good rolls
>>
>>5302999
QM post trips
>4d20 Reptilian Empathy + Intimidation
17
>3d20 Ranged Combat (DC 10, for using Guidance)
19
>2d20 enemy/environment
19
Very nice result throughout
>>
>>5302999
>>5303000
>>5303006
>17
The din of battle is quieted. The kobolds cease hurling insults and projectiles. Your own forces are yet wary, but nobody seems harmed beyond easily-treatable minor wounds, and they know better than to disobey an order uttered with the force of the Fearsome Presence behind it—yes, even the Novice. This is all good, as it should be, but you scarcely pay it mind. Your attention is elsewhere…

>19
…With your arrow, which now pins the reanimated limb in place, having penetrated it through the hand and buried its head into the earth. The limb flails, trying to free itself in a desperate and frenzied thrashing-about, but by the time it finally manages, you are already upon it. You pin it beneath your boot, and reach down, removing the ring and the finger to which it is affixed. You shuck the ring from finger, throw the digit disdainfully aside, and wipe the blood from the strange artefact. The hand and arm go still, confirming the relationship between this piece of interwoven metal and its eerie gem and the paranormal phenomena at play.

“You’ve caused enough trouble today,” you say to the ring.

You then turn to the kobolds, who all stare at you with wide eyes, trembling and afraid to move.

“Your false dragon—your PRETENDER, Hako, the so-called Dragonwrought—is a smouldering corpse.”

The silence grows more tense, more fearful. If you can kill their champion, their ‘dragon’, what can any of them do to you?

“You all now serve ME,” you announce. “You all will lay down your arms, step down from your parapets, and submit… To ME.”

And so they do. Your retinue emerge from their cover, assembling behind you, as the cowed kobolds line up and miserably relinquish their arms to your supporters, before kneeling before you. Their young cower behind the adults, staring at you with a mxi of fear and twisted, servile adoration.

It is over, and with surprisingly little bloodshed. Had your will been any weaker, your aim any less true… Well, you don’t wish to think about it, but you suspect things would have gone very differently.

What will you do with the kobolds?
>Forgive them, and hear their grievances—perhaps, with these rank-and-file reptilians, a common ground CAN truly be found
>Decimate them, killing a tenth of their population as punishment for their impudent rebellion, and enslave those who remain
>Slaughter them all, and take their spoils
>Vassalize them—offer them autonomy, and let them stay in place, but make sure they submit to your will and that of the Priesthood

What of the accursed ring?
>Melt it to slag with dragonfire, and grind its gem to dust
>Turn it over to the intellectuals to study—carefully!
>Put it on, and interrogate the entity within yourself
>>
>>5303013
>Vassalize them—offer them autonomy, and let them stay in place, but make sure they submit to your will and that of the Priesthood

>Turn it over to the intellectuals to study—carefully!
hopefully not like the ONE RING TO RULE THEM ALL
>>
>>5303013
>Decimate them, killing a tenth of their population as punishment for their impudent rebellion, and enslave those who remain
The whole "becoming a dragon via absorbing reptile miscarriages" thing is a little much.

>Turn it over to the intellectuals to study—carefully!
Put the Novice in charge of supervising it. She may or may not be a thot, but I trust her to not go mad with power.
>>
>>5303018
Also I'm just going to preemptively remind anyone who thinks about putting on the ring what happened the last time a MC tried on a magic artifact with a powerful dark entity inside in Banished Quest.
>>
REMINDER
>>5266565
>A band of kobolds has begun to cause trouble, you are told, in the northwesternmost foothills of the Bloodrise Mountain range, which skirts the coast and sweeps down into the hot southern climes. Normally, such trouble is ignored, or even subtly encouraged and directed to weaken the filthy mammal-men, but apparently the trouble these kobolds are causing is less pleasing than the usual sort. They dig deep and plumb ruins which belong to the Master Race alone, you are told, and not to slaves. They draw attention from the mammals to these sacred sepulchres with their rapacious raids, and they grow strong and proud in a manner ill-befitting them.
>“Forward scouts speak of heresy,” The Chaplain tells you. “Of these whelps turning their back on the Dark Gods, and proclaiming that a new power gives them greater strength. It is insult.”
>“Yes,” you acknowledge. “They must be punished.”
But what will we do now that we know the truth behind the Dark Gods and such things?
>>
>>5303020
AND
>>5266717
>“If you can rally the kobolds back to the cause,” the Chaplain notes, “they could prove useful agents in rea-appropriating the ill-gotten gains of the surface-dwelling, warm-blooded vermin who stole our ancestor’s riches. Useful scouts, pawns, and labourers…”
>“They have plumbed our ancestors’ tombs, too,” the Novice notes eagerly. “Imagine what they might have found… What we might learn!”
>>
>>5303013
>Vassalize them—offer them autonomy, and let them stay in place, but make sure they submit to your will and that of the Priesthood
>Turn it over to the intellectuals to study—carefully!
>>
>>5303013
>Vassalize them—offer them autonomy, and let them stay in place, but make sure they submit to your will and that of the Priesthood
>Turn it over to the intellectuals to study—carefully

Imply that our will matters more than the priests though.
>>
>>5303018
Yeah but it was only those two fucks that absorbed the reptile miscarriages, and not the entire kobold tribe here. Not to mention it could have been a side effect of the rings, or proximity on one of them putting that ring on near the dead lizards. We just don't know yet.
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>>5303013
>Vassalize them—offer them autonomy, and let them stay in place, but make sure they submit to your will and that of the Priesthood
The whole reason we came this way. Punishing them in some other way that isn't decimating them would be appropriate instead.
>Turn it over to the intellectuals to study—carefully!
Before we do, we need to tell them EVERYTHING we observed through this event about these rings. They need to know exactly how horrible these things might be.
>>
>>5303026
Eh, I'm not going to change my vote, but vassal was my #2 so I don't mind. You make a good point, though.
>>
>>5303013
>>5303018
Could I also add "dig through the cabin to find the rest of the rings and also the corpses, if any remain"? Give all the rings we find to the Novice and the rest of the intellectuals.
>>
>>5303029
[Never fear! Looting will be assumed to be occurring, by default.]
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>>5303013
>Vassalize them—offer them autonomy, and let them stay in place, but make sure they submit to your will and that of the Priesthood

Lets try to make them (more subtle) guardians of this place, the humans should not be coming back soon, and now that its back to OUR control, we could mount expeditions to the ruins here

>Turn it over to the intellectuals to study—carefully!
Albeit offering the soul within to death is quite tempting, maybe we could have them identify what it is before doing so
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>>5303017
Supporting

But some should be punished

Maybe just select 2 / 3 at random and kill then
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>>5303013
>Decimate them, killing a tenth of their population as punishment for their impudent rebellion, and enslave those who remain
>Turn it over to the intellectuals to study—carefully!
Going full Roman turns my dick into diamonds.
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>>5303101
-1
>>
>>5303013
>Vassalize them—offer them autonomy, and let them stay in place, but make sure they submit to your will and that of the Priesthood

>Turn it over to the intellectuals to study—carefully!
>>
>>5303013
>Vassalize them—offer them autonomy, and let them stay in place, but make sure they submit to your will and that of the Priesthood
>Turn it over to the intellectuals to study—carefully!
>Turn other rings to the intellectuals, for more carefull study, although with less priority.
>>
>>5302804
>Use <Earth Tremor> to bring the cabin down on all of you, stopping both at great personal risk
>>
>>5303201
Bruv are you ok? Your latency is in the hours
>>
He probably forgot to refresh
Happens to me all the time
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>>5303158
>>5303130
>>5303110
>>5303101
>>5303099
>>5303027
>>5303025
>>5303022
>>5303021
>>5303020
>>5303018
>>5303017
You survey the cringing kobolds, pacing slowly back and forth before them—letting them all get a good look at your intimidating armour and imposing stature.

“I came hear because the Serpent priesthood—your masters of old—heard tell of trouble here. They heard tell of wilfulness, and disobedience, and worse! They heard tell of HERESY!”

The kobolds shrink further away as you raise your voice.

“I’ve seen the truth of it—dragon hatchlings, used in magical experiments, by kobolds who ignore the commands of their superiors, and who even see fit to scoff at the Dark Gods!”

“Did not know!” wails one kobold.

“Only following dragon!” pleads another.

You stare, and slowly nod.

“I know,” you say, “which is why you will be allowed to live. “You are now pawns of the Priesthood again—as it was in the ancient days, and as it will be again in the coming Age of Scales.”

You feel enthusiasm well in your own forces as you hearken back to the speech you gave when recruiting them. The kobolds, for their part, seem grateful simply to be alive, rather than being outright slaughtered and tortured.

“…We are slaves, then?” one asks.

“You will be GRACIOUSLY allowed to remain here as an outpost of the Master Race, and an implement of our masters’ dark will,” you say. “Welcome back to the fold. Do not make me regret this mercy.”

You dismiss the kobolds, who whimperingly scurry from your sight. Only then do you allow yourself to take a deep breath, and to let your posture relax and your tail loosen and fall. You remove your helm and run your claws through you mussed hair, and bask in the victory, and in the warmth of the surface's fiery summer sun.
>>
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>>5303313
“You look utterly self-satisfied, Oh Pontificating One,” the Novice says quietly, to one side of you.

“Well-deserved, wouldn’t you agree?” you ask.

She huffs noncommittally, and asks, “What now, then? In your own time, when you get your breath back from… What was it, five minutes of actual labour?”

“If you would like to do some ’actual work’ of your own,” you reply, “you can lead the others in retrieving the items of value from the kobolds in that home, and searching the other rooms for anything else worth taking.”

You nod to where your less-than-friendly ‘meeting’ with the Dragonwrought had turned into lethal combat.

“One is dead and burned, the other unconscious… Maybe dead as well, actually. I chopped off his arm. Both of them have magical rings.”

“And speaking of magical rings…” the Novice says, greedily eyeing the hand which even now grips that which you claimed from the aforementioned escaping arm.

You hand it to her, but only after pausing and locking eyes to make yourself very clear:

“Be careful with this. It contains a sinister will—a demon, or undead entity, or SOMETHING.”

The Novice Fleshweaver scoffs and snatches it from your palm.

“I am no hatchling,” she says. “I do not need to be reminded not to take foolish risks, unlike CERTAIN males who go chasing after monsters of legend on a whim.”

With that, the Novice sets off, hissing commands ‘on behalf of the Dragonborn Champion’ and clearly relishing in the transitive authority despite her pretensions to greater maturity. You watch her at work for a moment, then allow yourself to return to relaxation… Until you are interrupted again.
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>>5303315
“You used royal command again,” Glowie acknowledges softly.

Her thighs are squirming against one another, her pupils dilated, voice husky with the same hungry desire which fills her expression. You say nothing for a moment, then hastily turn your gaze from the altogether too-lewd sight. You cannot help but take attention, though, or to stand bolt upright as she settles into place beside you, tail touching yours, then beginning to intertwine

“Have thought about offer?” she whispers. “I’ve been thinking about it… A lot.”

You feel your <appetite> stir.

“Kobolds would make good egg-attendants,” the disguised glow-worm notes, “Or food for larvae. If you fertilize me now, maybe we start empire right here…”

You clear your throat, and shuffle away, pulling your tail from her own tail’s embrace.

“Excuse me,” you say, “there is still work to be done.”

And indeed there is, though the sun has began to set and to restore some modicum of darkness to this blindingly bright world, their reddish ending rays setting the Bloodrise ablaze with the rich, fiery colour which gave it its name. You and Glowie stop and stare for a moment, unable to contain your wonder. Such vividness of colour, such grandiose spectacle… Neither of you, having been born and reared in cramped darkness, have ever seen its like.

“Amazing,” Glowie gasps, clutching your arm.

You just nod. Eventually, you wrench your gaze from it to ask for a report from your forces.

“The kobolds are under control,” the Bastard informs you. “The Translator and I were able to work out how to get more precise information out of them in their own dialect, about their excavations. It seems that the Pretender closed off their mines to them after becoming ‘Dragonwrought’, so as to keep whatever treasures they found to himself. They pivoted to raiding as a basis for their wealth, instead. They’ve seen signs of human settlements nearby strengthening their garrisons in response, and a few said they’ve seen adventurers—renegade, freelance humanoid operatives—in the area, and have been engaged in skirmishes with them. Survivors who escaped those clashes, or the capture of this village have spread news of the kobolds, making this region well-known as a place ripe for exploitation by such extra-governmental operatives."
>>
>>5303317
“The mammals present the greatest threat, IF we choose to remain here,” Paeris notes. “We could take what we need from the mines and homes, order the kobolds to withdraw from their village and back into the mountain, and leave this place to the mammals once it is stripped of compromising intelligence.”

“…Or we could remain, fight them off, hunt the adventurers in the hills,” the Bastard notes. “This could be a stronghold against mammalian incursion into our old territory.”

What will you do?
>Relocate the kobolds back to the mountain, and focus on plumbing the depths of the mountain quickly
>Hold the kobolds’ village as a forward base, and begin operations to capture or kill any mammals who get too close
>Have Paeris, and the members of your team with amulets of disguise, go spy on the nearby mammalian civilization for intelligence of your own
>Begin drilling and assessing the kobolds, for perhaps it will be best to take the fight to the mammals...
“The rings, necklace, and cloak are indeed all magical in nature,” the Novice tells you. “The green-stoned ring is host to a demon, that much is clear… But the rest of them will need to be properly appraised by a member of the Priesthood specializing in such things.”

“What?” you ask in mock astonishment. “This is beyond the ken of the GREAT Novice Fleshweaver, prodigy of her clan?”

She hisses, and nearly swats at you, before remembering the others are present.

“It is… Outside of my principle discipline, as well as those of the others with us. However… With your permission, the ‘materials’ the Dragonwrought sued to make his false form are well within my ability to analyze.”

This draws a few stares and outraged murmurs. She is proposing experimenting upon that same dragon-hatchling… As well as, less-controversially, the basilisk. She realizes the sacrilegious implications, but… Well, it is not without precedent.

“Experimenting with the flesh and blood of a long-dead dragon is how the Dragonborn Project was begun,” she points out. “We could glean valuable insights.”

Will you permit such research?
>Yes—it could prove too valuable a resource to waste
>No, you will treat that hatchling—and any other such bodies—with utmost respect, and give them proper funerary rights befitting Dragon Kings
>Actually, you have another project you’d rather the Novice focus on… [specify what]
>>
>>5303321
>Relocate the kobolds back to the mountain, and focus on plumbing the depths of the mountain quickly

>Have Paeris, and the members of your team with amulets of disguise, go spy on the nearby mammalian civilization for intelligence of your own

>Yes—it could prove too valuable a resource to waste

>Bring valuables back to the priest, so we can get our party's member back on the up-again trip.
>>
[Oh, and because I realized I wasn't entirely clear -- you CAN order the Novice to keep focusing on the rings and such, and she may well make progress. Likewise, you could have her focus on making more amilets of disguise, basilisk venom poisons... The dragon tjing is jusy what she WANTS to do.]
>>
>>5303321
>Have Paeris, and the members of your team with amulets of disguise, go spy on the nearby mammalian civilization for intelligence of your own
Yes—it could prove too valuable a resource to waste
>>
>>5303321
>Relocate the kobolds back to the mountain, and focus on plumbing the depths of the mountain quickly
but before that:
>Order Kobolds to rig the shit out of this place to slow down the humans' advancements.
Traps. They're good with them. Close the more known/visible underground entrances off, if possible.
>Have Paeris, and the members of your team with amulets of disguise, go spy on the nearby mammalian civilization for intelligence of your own
Not entirely opposed of holding our ground, tho. Age of Scales needs to come from our initiative, after all.
>Yes—it could prove too valuable a resource to waste
>Assign Novice to rings as a secondary research
>>
>>5303321
>Relocate the kobolds back to the mountain, and focus on plumbing the depths of the mountain quickly
>Yes—it could prove too valuable a resource to waste
We're ambitious.
>>
>>5303321
>Relocate the kobolds back to the mountain, and focus on plumbing the depths of the mountain quickly

>No, you will treat that hatchling—and any other such bodies—with utmost respect, and give them proper funerary rights befitting Dragon Kings
>>
>>5303321
>Have Paeris, and the members of your team with amulets of disguise, go spy on the nearby mammalian civilization for intelligence of your own
>Begin drilling and assessing the kobolds, for perhaps it will be best to take the fight to the mammals...
I want an accurate assessment of their combat capabilities.

>Publicly- No, you will treat that hatchling—and any other such bodies—with utmost respect, and give them proper funerary rights befitting Dragon Kings. Privately, let the Novice conduct her research.
Keep it a secret. Besides, a proper Dragon King funeral needs to be conducted in/on the mountains, close to the traditional seat of power, not in some mammalian ruins for adventures to grave-rob.
>>
>>5303363
Supporting this.
>>
>>5303660

Backing this.

We should also instruct the Novice to preserve the specimen's dignity, if it all possible.
>>
>>5303840
>>5303717
>>5303660
>>5303465
>>5303415
>>5303363
>>5303329

You command the kobolds to abandon their settlement—to no small resentment, as they evidently sacrificed lives and limbs to claim it—and to retreat to their mountain strongholds. However, it is not a wholehearted retreat…

“Our people’s strength is in our subtlety,” you announce. “Paeris, lead an expedition. Take the North-Merchant and the South-Merchant. Infiltrate the local human communities, and bring back information on the greatest threats to our races. We will assess them, and respond accordingly.”

This approach somewhat placates these savage mountain-kobolds, especially while they remain too terrified of you to object. They empty the humans homes of ‘shinies’, absconding with them as they return to their ancestral home. Your own forces accompany them, save the half-elven bard and his disguised mercantile cohorts.

“And what of the dragon hatchling?” the Novice presses.

“Study them,” you say, “but do not be so boastful of this desecration. It upsets our allies.”

“More small-minded fools,” the Novice scoffs.

“You are too quick to judge,” you admonish her, “and you fail to realize how much we depend on their support.”

She hisses in annoyance, but nods. You hear little from her in the days that follow, as she stays carefully beneath your notice… And, at your request, assigns some of her time to continuing to examine the magic rings.

For your part, you spend your own time over the next few days on those matters most important to you:
>Learning the ins and outs of local kobold culture, to better understand these new subjects
>Corresponding by messenger with Jazkarmel and the Drow, as well as your forces recuperating with them
>Getting to better know Glowie—she MUST have interests outside of reproduction and queenship, surely?
>Attempting to commune once more with the Bastard on matters draconic
>Interrogating Hapo about what befell he and Hako, and transformed them into the Dragonwrought
>Exploring the ruins of your ancestors for clues as to their fall and possible advantages for your renewed rise
>Write-in

[Please choose no more than two]
>>
>>5303952
>Attempting to commune once more with the Bastard on matters draconic
>Interrogating Hapo about what befell he and Hako, and transformed them into the Dragonwrought
>>
>>5303952
>>Interrogating Hapo about what befell he and Hako, and transformed them into the Dragonwrought
>>Exploring the ruins of your ancestors for clues as to their fall and possible advantages for your renewed rise
>>
>>5303952
>Learning the ins and outs of local kobold culture, to better understand these new subjects
>Exploring the ruins of your ancestors for clues as to their fall and possible advantages for your renewed rise
>>
>>5303952
>Interrogating Hapo about what befell he and Hako, and transformed them into the Dragonwrought
>Exploring the ruins of your ancestors for clues as to their fall and possible advantages for your renewed rise

god all these were so tempting OP
except communion we've done that a lot
>>
>>5303952
>Attempting to commune once more with the Bastard on matters draconic
>Exploring the ruins of your ancestors for clues as to their fall and possible advantages for your renewed rise
>>
>>5303952
>Interrogating Hapo about what befell he and Hako, and transformed them into the Dragonwrought
>Exploring the ruins of your ancestors for clues as to their fall and possible advantages for your renewed rise
>>
>>5303952
>Getting to better know Glowie—she MUST have interests outside of reproduction and queenship, surely?
>Corresponding by messenger with Jazkarmel and the Drow, as well as your forces recuperating with them
>>
>>5303952
>Interrogating Hapo about what befell he and Hako, and transformed them into the Dragonwrought
>Exploring the ruins of your ancestors for clues as to their fall and possible advantages for your renewed rise
>>
>>5303954
>>5303958
>>5303973
>>5304004
>>5304007
>>5304015
>>5304036
>>5304096
You have the one-armed kobold , called ‘Hapo’ you suppose, brought before you. The kobold practice of using their true-names for casual introduction and discussion is still bizarre to you, but interaction with your realm’s new vassal-subjects informs you that ‘One-Armed One’ is actually not specific enough—warfare and hard labour in their mines have robbed several kobolds of their limbs, aside from he who you personally maimed. As his fellows—former followers—haul him before you and throw him at your feet, you force yourself to adapt.

“Hapo,” you greet him. “You survived your blood-loss and concussion.”

You are seated in his cushioned chair, in his house… Or, well, the human headman’s house, which he and Hako once occupied as the Dragonwrought. What once was his place of power is now his interrogation-room. Hapo cringes and trembles somewhat, as is his people’s custom, but his overwhelming posture is still resentment, defiance.

“…Dragon,” he sneers. “So-called.”

“More dragon in truth than you were,” you reply, wit honed and quick from endless sparring with the Novice. “Certainly more than you are now, would you not agree?”

Hapo lowers his head, not in agreement, but in shame.

“Tell me how you became Dragonwrought,” you command.

He is quiet for a moment, as if considering whether to comply… But then, he seems to realize there is nothing more to lose, and perhaps mercy to be gained.

“Hako and Hapo miners. Mining iron for kill, shinies for nice. Mine collapsed, trapped other miners. Hako and Hapo tasked with reopen, pull out bodies, make ready for work again. But where collapsed… Found chamber. OLD chamber, from Big Red times, when there still king under the mountain.”

You nod. This lines up with the rumours your people had heard.

“Hako said: why tell other kobolds? Talk too much. TAKE too much. Could be ours!”

They had a dragon’s greed down, at least.

“Was slow-slow work, but opened up every shift, bit more, in secret. Then… Found place, treasure-place!”

Even the memory of it, even in this lowly circumstance, seems to bring the light of excitement back to Hapo’s previously misery-dulled eyes.

“There was little cache of it… Small creche, full of magic-shinies, like trap-toys for young kobold, maybe. Things to entertain, teach… For young DRAGONS.”
>>
>>5304202
You recall the hatchling, which even now the Novice dissects, in a home allocated for her use, away from the judgemental eyes of others. She insisted on making use of this space before you all depart for ‘what dinginess passes for kobold couture’. Your own accommodations at the forward base were nary so gratuitously-luxurious as hers, but you suppose you can understand the appeal—these humans really do live cushy lives. You’re rather enjoying this chair. For her part, her concerns seem more alchemical—something about working on the dragon-corpse with surface lighting and a clean, uncontaminated workspace.

“Were there other bodies?” you ask. “More hatchlings?”

Hapo nods, then shakes his head.

“No, just the one hatchling. Not sure if egg broken in collapse of cave… Or dragon hatched in airless, collapsed place, died starving in cold-dark, long-long ago. But eggs… There were eggs.”

Hapo’s eyes fill once more with something like wonder, like reverence.

“How did you come to abuse this creche so, for your own false glory?” you ask.

Hapo’s expression returns from the wonder of the past to the bitter resentment of the present… And, perhaps, to the possibility of a longer future, a future where he lives.

“It was demon!” he screeches, accusatorily pointing at his stump, where the possessed arm once was. “Put on ring, demon took over body! Took over mind! Demon in ring! It spoke through me, spoke to Hako, told him to wear other rings., wear cloak and necklace… And how together, we can be big… How with dragon, be big-big. Later, added basilisk chick, same idea… Make us STRONG! Make us DRAGONWROUGHT!”

He pauses in his telling, realizing his enthusiasm somewhat belies his claim to helpless victimhood.

“Hapo… Not WANT to. HAVE to.”

“Right,” you say, neutrally.
>>
>>5304203
“...Not help, anyway. Hako dead, dead-dead so nobody even recognize.”

Hapo looks at you with fear.

“Hapo dead soon, too,” he whispers, more to himself perhaps than to you.

“What do the magic items do?” you ask. “The ring, cloak, necklace… Tell me.”

“Then dragon kill poor Hapo?” he asks, clearly fearing one answer and hoping for another.

You consider this situation, leaning back in the comfort of this human-made chair. Hapo is a rebel, a cloying schemer who worked with a demon to defile a sacred place and to pretend at being a dragon. He defied your Priests and Gods… But, admittedly, those are Priests and Gods who you have a few concerns about yourself, now. And the kobold… He’s ambitious, clever, and has useful knowledge. You plan to explore the ruins, obviously. How could you NOT after what you were just told of them—of the treasure which might still lay unclaimed therein, and of dragon eggs?

What do you do with Hapo?
>Offer him clemency if he tells you of the magic items, and guides your retinue into the caverns where he found the eggs
>Threaten and torture Hapo for the information you need, then execute him publicly, as an example to keep the other kobolds on the righteous path
>Offer Hapo the only respite he deserves: a dignified, swift, and painless death, IF he answers truthfully and quickly
>Write-in
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>>5304206
>Offer him clemency if he tells you of the magic items, and guides your retinue into the caverns where he found the eggs but make it clear that if he tries anything ever again a quick painless death or clemency won't be on the table
>>
>>5304206
>Offer him clemency if he tells you of the magic items, and guides your retinue into the caverns where he found the eggs
>>
>>5304208

Probably the most dragon like approach. We can execute him once we have what we need?
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>>5304208
+1; its their fault they got into this mess, and we killed Hako because he tried to kill us right after they split apart

>>5304242
Why?
>>
>>5304208
Support

Then kill him after. He’s a loose end

Too ambitious for his own good
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>>5304206
>Offer him clemency if he tells you of the magic items, and guides your retinue into the caverns where he found the eggs
dependent on if the Novice finds out the ring doesn't compel wearers to act - if he absorbed dragon fetus of his free will then he lied to us and the deal is off

if we're going to kill him even if he's truthful I'd prefer just picking
>Offer Hapo the only respite he deserves: a dignified, swift, and painless death, IF he answers truthfully and quickly
>>
>>5304376
+1
>>
>>5304206
>Offer him clemency if he tells you of the magic items, and guides your retinue into the caverns where he found the eggs but make it clear that if he tries anything ever again a quick painless death or clemency won't be on the table

Dont threaten to kill him beats entire point of clemency christ
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>>5304206
>Threaten and torture Hapo for the information you need, then execute him publicly, as an example to keep the other kobolds on the righteous path
If he did all this sacrilegious shit to get power and elevate his status, what's stopping him from doing it again the second he gets a change once we leave? What's stopping the others?
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>>5304538
*chance
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>>5304206
>Offer him clemency if he tells you of the magic items, and guides your retinue into the caverns where he found the eggs
>>
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>>5304996
>>5304538
>>5304499
>>5304495
>>5304376
>>5304281
>>5304243
>>5304242
>>5304232
>>5304208

“I and my retinue would benefit from a guide,” you tell him, “and my intellectuals and mages would benefit from your understanding of the rings.”

“Good information to get,” Hapo notes cagily, “before kill me dead. Unless…?”

This kobold is too ambitious for his own good… But it’s an ambition you can grudgingly respect, recognizing something of your own drive in this lesser reptile. Still, certain natural hierarchies must be reaffirmed for this working relationship to function.

“Clemency is an option,” you allow, “but so is a quick death… OR a slow and brutal one.”

Hapo’s little furtive movements slow and still with mortal terror.

“If you try anything like THIS ever again, tehre will be no escape from me… And no mercy.”

Hapo stares.

“Only fire,” you conclude. “Slow, excruciating dragon-flame, without the mercy I showed Hako in ending his suffering.”

Hapo gulps.

“Are we clear?”

“Yes, clear-clear, CRYSTALLINE, like gem on ring which stores spells!”

This peaks your interest. A… Ring of Spell-Storing?

“Tell me more,” you say.

And so the kobold does. He tells you the function of each of the rings in turn, and something of how they function. His explanations are not terribly technical, and you find yourself able to grasp the basic principles; just to be sure that nothing is missed, you bring him to the Novice Fleshweaver to conclude the explanation, and allow her to ask salient questions.

“So we have four rings,” she concludes, after the Bastard has led Hapo away to join the rest of the kobolds in their march back to the mountains. “The demon ring, the Ring of Spell-Storing, the Ring of Protection, and the Ring of Elemental Command.”
>>
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>>5305361
You, the Novice, and Glowie pack up her laboratory while she reiterates your findings. Glowie listens keenly, as do you. You try not to dwell upon the many bits and pieces of splayed dragon-skin, dissected muscles, and vials of ichor and alchemical admixtures thereby resulting.

“Only one can be wielded in each hand,” the Novice continues, untroubled by her grisly works, as well you suppose she might be. “It takes twenty-four hours to attune to one of them, and once it ahs been removed and another attuned to, the other rings will gradually lose their attunement to the wearer.”

“The Ring of Spell-Storing allows one to absorb a spell cast on or around them,” you say aloud, organizing your thoughts. “Then, it can be cast again—once—by the wearer, with enough skill.”

“We do not know if can hold any and ALL spells,” Glowie notes, handing the Novice some carefully-rolled scrolls.

The written word, previously alien to the worm-princess, seems to carry a special fascination for her since the Novice apparently began to teach it to her. She scans each piece of parchment, no matter how mundane or esoteric the knowledge therein, before rolling it up.

“The Ring of Protection is self-explanatory,” the Novice says dismissively.

You suppose it is: when that hand is held aloft, it forms a protective barrier by channeling mana, deflecting blows physical and magical to some degree. If you had been less efficient in dispatching the Dargonwrought, it could have proved especially problematic.
>>
>>5305362
“The Ring of Elemental Command… Explain it again.”

The Novice scoffs at you, but seeing you and Glowie both staring patiently, she relents and repeats herself.

“It bears three gems, each of which can be used to channel a blast of fire, ice, or lightning with application of mana and a mystic phrase,” she says, “OR a gem can be broken to summon orth the elemental spirit within.”

“Like a demon?” you ask, wary.

“LIKE a demon,” the Novice says, “but not. They are from this plane… I think… And certainly not the Hellish Realms. They have limited will. They will burn themselves out.”

“Can they be controlled?” Glowie asks.

“…Unknown,” the Novice admits. “That function was never used, which is why all three gems are intact.

“The Dragonborn can control them,” Glowie says confidently, tail swishing back and forth as she wiggles idly, seemingly lost in fantasy. “Dragonborn is KING. Can control ANYTHING.”

“Disgusting sycophant,” the Novice hisses, though Glowie hardly seems to care -- she just continues wiggling happily.
>>
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>>5305366
“And the demon ring…” you begin.

“It mixes and melds flesh… Bodies, abilities, even minds…” Glowie says, snapping out of one fantasy and seemingly oddly transfixed with a new, darker one beyond your understanding.

“With aid of a dark demon of utmost envy,” you admonish her, putting a stop to the disguised worm-woman’s swaying.

“Still… The potential is immense,” the Novice admits. “The advancements this could allow for my field…”

“IF the demon can be trusted,” you say, “which it obviously can’t Look at what trouble it ahs already caused us!”

“The KOBOLDS caused that trouble,” the Novice scoffs. “The demon is a tool like any other. Give proper mastery, a firm hand, diligent safety protocols… We could sue it to advance the Dragonborn project by centuries!”

“The Dragonborn can master ANYTHING,” Glowie practically purrs, staring at the ring, and letting her tail teasing, just BARELY, brush against you.

“And the necklace, the cloak?” you ask, taking a step to the side, to Glowie’s evident disappointment.

The Novice shrugs. “Unclear. The demon apparently didn’t know as much about those—only that they were magic. And you heard Hapo…”

“…He knows nothing that the demon did not,” you finish, “and he never utilized either of them, as part of the Dragonwrought construct.”

You finish packing the materials and leave to join the rest of your retinue, but your mind remains on the items as your party hikes into the mountains, as well as on the journey ahead.

Which rings do you attune to? Choose no more than two:
>The Ring of Protection
>The Ring of Spell-Storing
>The Ring of Elemental Command
>The Demon Ring

What do you do with the others?
>Leave them aboveground with those who remain, for safekeeping
>Keep them on your person
>Arm your allies who are accompanying you with them
>Destroy the Demon Ring in particular

[CONT.]
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>>5305372
Aside from the matter of the magical items, there is ALSO the related matter of the expedition into the mines. Hapo will be leading you, but with the Merchants and Paeris away, and many of your other fighters still (presumably) safe and recovering with the Drow at their encampment belowground, you have a sadly-depleted force.

The Cartographer and Translator are satisfactory in a fight, but have talents better suited to other matters, though they COULD be quite useful in mapping an excavated ruin or translating ancient tomes or signage you there locate—besides, will you actually be FIGHTING? Is anything left alive down there?

The Novice is hesitant to accompany you—which is to say, livid at you repeatedly interrupting her research to ‘go gallivanting around on your silly hatchling-brained adventures’—and would rather stay aboveground. The Bastard is currently quite useful for keeping the frightened-but-feisty kobolds in line, which is useful given their dissatisfaction with this forced re-relocation, but he is also arguably the best combatant still with you.

And Glowie… Well, she is ever close to you, and would of course be closer STILL if you would allow it, and is also formidable in a fight if you but allow her to use her full suite of abilities, in addition to her stealth and the training you gave her, but bringing her along would mean bringing a bug-monster (and heiress of a rival race) into a sacred and ancient grave, and also enduring a great deal of ‘alone time’ with the ever-horny insect.

Who will you bring with you as you descend into the ancient ruin, besides Hapo?
>The Translator
>The Cartographer
>The Bastard
>The Novice Fleshweaver
>Glowie
>The Junior Novice
>A force of suitably-martial kobolds from among your new vassals
>You will wait until such time as Paeris and the Merchants return, and draft one or more of them [who?]

Do you have any other matters to attend to before you enter the ruin?
>Yes [write-in]
>No

[This will probably be the second-to-last post of THIS thread, with me starting a new one and doing your official level-up as you enter the ruin. Congrats, and thank you all—you’ve all very nearly completed the first arc! Sorry for a slight slowdown in updates… I’ve been going through a bit of depression with a side of some alcohol overconsumption, and trying to stave that off with long walks and time with my new roommate.]
>>
>>5305372
>The Ring of Protection
>The Ring of Elemental Command

>Leave them aboveground with those who remain, for safekeeping
Let the Novice hang onto the Ring of Spellstoring for now.

>Destroy the Demon Ring in particular
This is such an obvious dangerous loose end that it's not even funny. Consult with the scholars for how best to safely do so.

>The Translator
>The Cartographer
>A force of suitably-martial kobolds from among your new vassals
Spend some time cowing these kobolds beforehand so we don't get ganked.

>No

>Spoiler
You're literally updating at an average or above-average pace for /qst/. You have zero to apologize for. Feel better.
>>
>>5305372
>The Ring of Spell-Storing
>The Ring of Elemental Command

>Arm your allies who are accompanying you with them
>Destroy the Demon Ring in particular
Destroy the Demon Ring shit in a ritual to Death. Give the Ring of protection to whoever we're taking on the expedition down.

>Glowie
The most flexible of the bunch and the least needed on the surface right now. The Bastard and the Fleshweaver who are the other candidates in my opinion are both doing their own thing right now to be useful.
>>
>>5305382
Supporting this
>>
>>5305372
>The Ring of Protection
>The Ring of Elemental Command

>Arm your allies who are accompanying you with them
>Destroy the Demon Ring in particular
Give the Spell Storer to the Novice to make up for the demon destruction

>The Translator
>The Cartographer
>The Junior Novice
>A force of suitably-martial kobolds from among your new vassals
>>
>>5305376
>The Ring of Protection
>The Ring of Elemental Command
>Arm your allies who are accompanying you with them
>Destroy the Demon Ring in particular
>The Translator
>The Cartographer
>The Junior Novice
>>
>>5305376
>The Demon Ring
>Keep them on your person
>The Bastard
>You will wait until such time as Paeris and the Merchants return, and draft one or more of them [All]
>No
>>
>>5305376
>The ring of Protection
>The ring of spell-storing
>Gift the novice the ring of Elemental Command
>Destroy the demon ring

>The Novice
>The Junior Novice
>Glowie
>>
>>5305372
>The Ring of Elemental Command
>The Demon Ring
Turn that demon into our bitch.
>Keep them on your person

>>5305376
>Glowie
>A force of suitably-martial kobolds from among your new vassals
>Yes [Divination and talking to the demon]
>>
>>5305376
>>5305372
>The Ring of Elemental Command
>The Ring of Spell-Storing

>Arm your allies who are accompanying you with them
>Destroy the Demon Ring in particular

>>5305376
>The Translator
>The Cartographer
>A force of suitably-martial kobolds from among your new vassals

>No
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>>5305464
>>5305452
>>5305439
>>5305407
>>5305405
>>5305403
>>5305389
>>5305385
>>5305382
[I'll post before work if I manage to finish the post by then. Otherwise, here's the current tally. Locking the vote, beginning the write-up!]
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>>5305712
Two days are spent preparing to delve into this forgotten darkness, and to reclaim what your people have lost. In those two days, you choose two rings to attune to… And one which you will destroy.

“It is a great waste,” the Novice laments.

She complains, but without any great histrionics, for she sees why you have decided to do this thing. The Demon Ring and its dark inhabitant are simply too dangerous to work with. You may have come to find an affinity for outcasts of a certain stripe, but that does not extend to heretical acolytes, or their demonic masters. Instead, you wear the Ring of Protection on one hand, and the Ring of Elemental Command on the other, allowing your magical energies to attune them to you over time, and you allow the Cartographer to do likewise with the Ring of Spell-Storing, at least for now.

“Is there a way to dispose of such a thing?” you ask, gesturing the demonic circle, which you have placed upon a nearby rocky outcropping in the kobolds’ cave.

The Novice crosses her arms and narrows her eyes in concentration and recollection. It doesn’t bode well—demonology is also, clearly, outside her main discipline.

“It should be possible, by creating a magic circle to contain and dominate the demon. It would be easier if we knew its true name.”

You summon Hapo, and the Translator, but the one-armed kobold does not know the being’s true name, and the Translator (who has passing familiarity with the occult glyphs of the inhabitants of the Hells) can offer no real advice.

“At least,” he correct, “nothing to help you destroy it NOW. You could carry it down, to where our guide found it, and see if there is a record of the being’s name there. Then, the name could be used to bind and destroy it!”

Hapo says nothing, simply staring at the ring with an anguished expression. You can tell he’s much rather it not be destroyed. You imagine he’d much rather be wearing it, best of all.

“We could attempt the circle of demon-protection, then destroy the ring anyway,” the Novice suggests. “If you’re going through with this sup-optimal course of action, that is. We may not be able to banish the demon in the manner which is easiest, but you have a magic weapon. When the circle is erected, and the ring destroyed, the demon will emerge. Then, you can slay it. It will be weakened and trapped. You can simply slay it.”

What do you do?
>Take the demon ring with you, and destroy it once you have the means to do so thoroughly and efficiently
>Set up a magic circle and smash the ring, then duel the demon—you’ll waste no more time, and risk no demon-related complications

[Post focused on selecting your kobold allies and entering the ruins after work!]
>>
>>5305727
>Set up a magic circle and smash the ring, then duel the demon—you’ll waste no more time, and risk no demon-related complications
>>
>>5305727

>Take the demon ring with you, and destroy it once you have the means to do so thoroughly and efficiently

We lack the information to do this properly, better to store it safely and wait until we are better prepared.

Could we seal the ring inside a bottle (melt the top?) Or something to prevent an "accidental" release?
>>
>>5305747
+1
Especially the part about sealing the ring.
>>
>>5305727
>Set up a magic circle and smash the ring, then duel the demon—you’ll waste no more time, and risk no demon-related complications
>>
>>5305747
>>5305869
Supporting
>>
>>5305727
>Take the demon ring with you, and destroy it once you have the means to do so thoroughly and efficiently

Alternatively we can just bury it somewhere…
>>
>>5306036
>>5305979
>>5305883
>>5305869
>>5305747
>>5305735
You stare down into that green, eye-like jewel which caps the interwoven strands of black metal. For a brief moment you could swear the Demon Ring meets your gaze, and holds it defiantly.

“Bring me a container,” you command your cohorts. “One that can be sealed by heat.”

They bring you a small crate of wood and metal—a box for humans’ jewelry, you’re told, though the kobolds long-ago emptied it for there. Its metal lip around the closure makes it perfect for your purposes. You place the accursed thing inside, and with careful application of your fiery breath, you melt the box shut.

“We will find the name of this troublesome entity, and see that it is dealt with, permanently,” you announce. “Until then, there will be no accidents…”

You fix your eyes on Hapo, pointedly.

“…Nor ‘accidents’, which release this demon.”

Hapo averts his gaze.

This matter having been postponed, you turn to the other necessary preparations for your journey: specifically, the preparation of a combat-ready expeditionary force.

“Are you sure about this?” the Bastard asks. “They are… Untested.”

“They’ve seen more battle than we have,” you say… Then, remembering the Bastard’s former profession, you correct yourself: “Or at least, more than I. And they know the area, the hazards.”

“They are resentful of your rule,” the Bastard says. “Only my attention to discipline keeps them in line. Perhaps you could bring me instead?”

“it is exactly your ability in wrangling these rebels that makes you necessary here. I can manage a small squadron of… Six kobolds, say, besides the one called Hapo.”

The Bastard nods, and argues no more. Glowie, to your surprise, also accepts your instructions to remain behind. With her clinginess, you had expected an argument, but instead she looks at you with the empty blankness of expression which is so often her signature, and bows her head.

“No objections?” you ask

“I am guest,” she says, “and surface is beautiful.”

She looks past you, to the entrance of the kobolds’ high-up complex of caves and cervices. As it did in its setting, the sun sets the entire mountain ablaze, a gradually-rising tide of red that then turns to pink-tinged gold and bathes the forested hills in its light as if to illuminate the sheer breadth and majesty of it. Flying birds cast shadows like those of far greater creatures in its angled luminescence, and for a moment you can imagine dragons live here again.

“Thank you,” Glowie says, resting her head on your shoulder as she gazes out upon it. “For this. Bringing me to this world."
>>
>>5306252
“They have denied us so much, down in the earth,” you acknowledge uneasily.

“No more,” Glowie says quietly. “It is all ours, soon.”

“Oh?” you ask. “You are no longer content to wait down in the depths with your mother and your… Nestmates… For the fall of my race and the rise of yours?”

You meant it as a jest, but Glowie responds with all seriousness:

“No. No more waiting.”

The two of you remain there for a time, in a silence broken only by distant birdsong. Only when the sun grows too bright to bear do you return to the hollowed-out depths of the earth… And to the next step in your journey to end the Aeon of Banishment—generations of WAITING—and to usher in a new Age of Scales.

[End of Volume 1]
>>
[Thank you all for playing! Now for the post-mortem. How did everyone like the pace of the story? Were the dice mechanics working for folks? And is there anything you'd like more or less focus on next time? Feedback is appreciated!]
>>
Congrats on another finished thread ReptoidQM
>>
>>5306277
[Thanks! I'll post up the OP for Volume 2 tomorrow or the next day.]
>>
>>5306258
Pacing was nice, but 5 random updates a day might be questionable, depending on who you ask.
>>
>>5306483
[Noted! In deference to earlier concerns, I have been limiting myself to updating inly when there is a clear voting majority (5+ for a single choice), or when at least two or three hours have passsed and 7+ votes are in (since we seem to have about 8 regular voters. Has this been sufficient, or do people still feel votes are going by too quickly, in a way that's skewing how the story progresses?]
>>
>>5306258
I am having a blast and am already pretty connected to our entourage, I understand you were having scheduling issues but you let us know when you did which I always appreciate so all in all great beginning to your next quest, really felt like a good first season to a new show one might watch
>>
>>5306489
Update rhythm is perfectly fine.
>>
>>5306489
I'm sure everyone will disagree, but I personally prefer scheduled quest updates, like in RIQ. They make it easier to find time to vote and keep up with the story.
Additionally, the chance of missing out on an important vote is higher here and it sucks when that happens.
>>
>>5306521
>>5306516
>>5306499
Well, tell you folks what: we'll put it to a vote!

Which would you prefer for Volume 2?
>One morning and one evening post most days
>Extra posts when possible
>One post per day
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>>5306669
>One morning and one evening post most days
most days heh
>>
>>5306669
>Extra posts when possible
>>
>>5306672
[Well, some days I'm too busy, tired, or tipsy for a reliable morning and evening post. For that option, I just meant that I won't do more than two a day.]
>>
>>5306669
>One morning and one evening post most days
>>
>5306669
>One morning and one evening post most days
Oh qm you spoil us
>>
>>5306669
>Extra posts when possible
>>
>>5306683
Oh, I thought you meant you'd schedule on most days, but drop extras when you need to vent.
Did you recently write when drunk?
>>
>>5306669
>>Extra posts when possible
But only if you don't kill yourself getting them out. I value your health more than a few extra updates.
>>
>>5306899
A couple sloppy typos can probably be chalked up to rum, though I'm a notoriously poir proof-reader of my own work even when sober.
>>
[This is also probably a good time to ask any setting/lore questions you have had, btw!]
>>
>>5306935
Was something like the Glowworms always in the plans, or was it something thought up on the spot because of the divination picture?
>>
>>5306935
When will our cousin's mother come into play for beating our scaly butt?
>>
>>5306935
Kobelds. How are they genetically connected to dragons and other reptilians?
When did dark elves go underground and what's their relationship with surface world?
>>5306934
Some posts far-exceeded your usual typo numbers, that's why I asked. Please don't kill your liver, RQM.
>>
>>5306936
[I intended to stick a couple subterranean societies in your path, and always had either drow or goblins planned, plus kobolds of course, and a rust monster of some sort. the rest ahs been pretty much adlibbed, with the entire Glowie subplot AND the nature of the Dragonwrought being determined by the Game of Distortion, and the other encounters rolled on a table and slightly modified as needed to fit the setting.]

>>5306939
[...I am confused. Cousin's mother? To whom do you refer?]

>>5306942
>Kobolds
[They are a distantly-related (or maybe separately-created? it's unclear and lost to time) slave race, made to serve dragons and other high-born reptilian races. So go the legends, anyway! They certainly have a natural deference exceeding even the Dragonborn's own "Master Race" culture.]

>Spoiler
[My apologies! If any of them were unclear to the point of confusing you, please let me know and I'll clear them up now.]
>>
>>5306948
wtf is the junior novice, setting wise
>>
>>5306982
not a kobold
>>
>>5306672
>>5306676
>>5306717
>>5306743
>>5306789
>>5306921
[We seem to have a pretty even split, so we'll stick with the status quo, but I'll try to leave a longer window on very circumstantial votes. I'll also start Volume 2 tonight!]
>>
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[New thread is up!]

>>5307134

[Please enjoy this art of the Novice...]
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>>5307135
[And the finished lewd, both by vantenicy. The art at >>5290509, meanwhile is by nina_kittie. The main portrait is by SleepyZzzBunny.]
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>>5307135
idk how to feel about 3/4 fingers
is that on purpose
>>
>>5308600
Eh, I didn't specify. It can be as canon as you want it to be!
>>
>>5309000
please specify next time, that's weird lol
>>
>>5309342
I prefer to give the artists I commission a lot of leeway.



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