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>>5493538

“Lizardmen are basically animals,” the skeptic asserts. “Just like kobolds.”

“Well, maybe they figure that if lizards can look like men,” the gossip at the bar says, “then… Maybe kobolds can, too? Or maybe the lizardman was really some weird kobold?”

“So, what,” the skeptic snaps, “you think the kobolds didn’t go away but just… Blended in, like?”

“Just speculating,” protests the gossip, returning to his drink with chastened body language. “That’s all. Just making conversation.”

The game continues for a time. The third man at the table, the quiet one, makes sure to lose. He pays his few coins of reparation for the defeat, then stands up.

“What’s wrong?” the skeptic mock. “Scared of the kobold-talk?”

“Maybe he’s just tired of losing,” Jasper cackles.

“Jussst tired,” the third man says calmly. “And out of money to bet.”

The quiet man leaves the table, and the store, and the village. He heads not towards the in, or onwards the trade-roads which lead to other human habitations, but into the forests and up into the mountains. It is dark, but darkness does not trouble him—he was bred, born, and raised in a deeper darkness than this, deep beneath the earth, deeper than any dwarf or kobold dwells. He is called The Thief these days, but tonight he is once more a Reptilian Infiltrator, and he has news to bring back to his people.

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>>5493540
Meanwhile, high amongst the mountains, the Bastard and The Pit-Guard are holding another council. The two males have been jockeying for position and status ever since their commanding officer—the Dragonborn—departed for Drow-lands, to attend and subvert some sort of… Social function. Neither is highly-born or of impressive station among the Reptilian Master Race, but the Dragonborn, or ‘Copper Dragon King’, has made it clear that this does not matter so much in the Bloodrise as it does under the watchful eye of the Serpent Priesthood back home. So it goes that each of them seeks to outdo the other in accomplishment and prestige, to earn favour that neither of them ‘deserve’ but merit of blood alone.

“The defensive fortifications and living-quarters are nearly complete,” the Bastard boasts. “The store-rooms have been outfitted with ample drainage, and I have instructed the Engineer to supervise the kobolds in building passages to maximize heat retention in winter and while still venting bad air.”

The mixed-and-clanless specimen, well-regarded among the Kobolds of Bloodrise, has taken to lording over his lesser reptilians.

“Thanks to MY dwarves,” the Pit-Guard growls. “The stores fill with food and trade-goods to keep the work going, and each and every room is furnished with the goods which the slaves’ labour mining gems and ore pay for.”

The Pit-Guard and his Apprentice, meanwhile, have put their skills in coercion and physical reprimand to use in wrangling the Bloodrise’s dwarven slaves, aided by the so-called ‘Duergar’ race-traitors.

“I suppose,” the Bastard admits. “But all those gems and all that ore is worthless if we do nothing but sit on it like a female on a clutch of dead eggs.”

“Without this influx of mineral wealth, the entire operation will collapse,” the Pit-Guard presses. “This is why we must PROTECT that mining operation.”

“Is this about the bugbears again?” the Bastard sighs. “They are savages. Nothing more. Don’t tell me you can’t repel a few disorganized barbarians.”

“I am TELLING you, they are NOT NORMAL,” the Pit-Guard retorts angrily. “They are… Changed. And they aren’t alone. There is something else haunting those places. Dwarves go missing without so much as a scream. I send the Hunter and his males looking, but they find nothing.”

“Maybe you ought to stop your slaves from running away in the first place,” the Bastard shoots back.

“Running to WHERE?!” the Pit-Guard demands. “There is nothing down there but darkness and half-excavated rock!”

“We of all races should know there is ALWAYS somewhere to hide and survive in the underdark,” the Bastard notes. “But you are correct, yes… WE should recapture them before they can spread word and reveal our Conspiracy.”

“No need.”

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>>5493543
Both the bickering males look up at this voice—the gravelly hiss of the Hunter, expert ranger and marksman, recruited by the Dragonborn on his most recent return to their deep-dark homelands, below the northern realms.

“They have not escaped,” the Hunter continues, elaborating upon his point.

“You found them?” the Pit-Guard asks, sounding relieved.

“No,” the Hunter answers grimly. “But I found something else.”

Two of his followers stride forward, dropping a ragged mass of matted fur and keratinous spikes at the centre of the cavern-chamber. The strange mammal looks haggard, half-dead, sodden and shivering… But as it looks up, the darkly-defiant eyes and savagely-heroic set of the face is unmistakable, even to those not accustomed to differentiating between mammals.

“The Bugbear Boss,” the Bastard hisses.

He’d been missing for months now, ever since he led his people—the spikey, ape-like goblinoids called bugbears or ‘Bogbarri’, in the first of many successful raids against the dwarves, as part of an alliance with Bloodrise’s Dragonborn. Since then, his people had turned foul and feral, and none had been able to contact him.

“Did you capture him attacking my slaves?” the Pit-Guard demands. “We should torture him to death and sacrifice him to the Dark Gods for his betrayal!”

The Hunter holds up a hand, and the Pit-Guard simmers down somewhat.

“He claims he isn’t responsible,” the Hunter explains.

“I must admit, it looks like he hasn’t been experiencing much happy hunting,” the Bastard laughs cruelly.
“I didn’t capture him,” the Hunter admits with no small disappointment. “He actually SURRENDERED… To the slaves. He was babbling something in dwarf-speak…”

The Bugbear Boss grunts something, a guttural croak that might be dwarven… or, then again, might not.

“Begging for his worthless life?” the Bastard speculates.

“Requesting our aid,” the Hunter acknowledges. “And bearing warning… About a kobold sorcerer, amassing an army of demons and dead, readying to strike.”

The two supervisors of development in Bloodrise exchange a meaningful look, their rivalry put on hold for the moment. They both know what this means: Hapo the Necromancer, one-time co-ruler of this place before defeated once by their master, has completed his dark studies of the ancient tomes which he stole away with… And he has returned to take his revenge.

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>>5493544
While turmoil roils above and beyond you, to the north-east-and-up, you remain blissfully unaware. Your last month hasn’t exactly been peaceful by any means: you’ve slayed shoggoths and ghouls, seduced priestesses and deities, infiltrated elven politics and religion, made allies and enemies, learned to dance and to love. You even adopted a name—Theral, King of Bloodrise! But a king is nothing without his kingdom, and you are eager to return to yours.

“Do you not think you will feel embarrassed, to return and to be reminded that you aren’t REALLY a king?”

You glower at the Novice Fleshweaver, who shows no ounce of shame or remorse for the jab at your ego. She was never shy about undermining you, of course, but if anything she has only become CHEEKIER since you confessed your affections to her at the dark elves’ Winter Ball coronation ceremony. It seems she thinks she can get away with anything with a sashay of her hips and a deviously-teasing look, now that she knows of your love for her.

You wish she were wrong… About her sway over you, AND about the mental adjustment ahead. You have been playing the role of evangelizing priest-king for nearly a month now, but among your own kind your actual rank is… Not quite so high. ‘Copper Dragon King’ is a title for mammals to know and fear you by, after all, as ‘Theral’ is a name for outsiders to call you. Your own true name is scarcely-spoken. Your true role in Bloodrise is a conqueror and peacekeeper, but not necessarily a RULER… Not forever, anyway.

You are THE DRAGONBORN ANTIPALADIN, and soon you are coming home.

What do you plan to do when you return?
>You will prove to the Serpent Priesthood that the Bloodrise—and the multicultural Dark Alliance you are building there—deserves their support and recognition
>You are a loyal servant of the Dark Gods and the Serpent Priesthood—not always dutiful to the LETTER, but always to the SPIRIT of the Grand Design—and you are satisfied to be steward and shepherd, if you cannot be king
>You are a Dragon King, no matter what anyone says, and you will RULE as one! If the Serpent priests have a problem with that… Well, perhaps you will grant them an audience and hear the aging order’s grievances, in YOUR court
>Write-in

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>>5493547
[ Your recent experiences in Wevenore have helped you to grow as a lizardperson. You can choose to raise one of the following:
>Intimidation
>Seduction
>Leadership
OR you can save this <experience point> to raise stat such as
>Religion
>Reptilian Empathy
later! ]

[ If you're just joining us, archives are at https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=ReptoidQM ]

>>5493547
>You will prove to the Serpent Priesthood that the Bloodrise—and the multicultural Dark Alliance you are building there—deserves their support and recognition

>Intimidation

We should really have at least 3 dice, being the monster that we are.

Good to see you back as always RQM!

>>5493547
>You will prove to the Serpent Priesthood that the Bloodrise—and the multicultural Dark Alliance you are building there—deserves their support and recognition
Yo, we got that magicmetal for y'all.

>>5493550
>Seduction
Let's get to Home Base with Novice.

>>5493547
>You will prove to the Serpent Priesthood that the Bloodrise—and the multicultural Dark Alliance you are building there—deserves their support and recognition

>SAVE Experience Point

I want to improve our diplomacy and religious stat. We're going to have to wheel and deal with the Serpent Priesthood to get them to accept everything we've been doing.

>>5493609
The fifth point takes two EXP, anon, I don't think we'll get there before the wheeling and dealing.

>>5493623
With the way RQM structures this quest we should get another EXP point after dealing with Hapo. They've been hyping it up for a while now so it wouldn't make sense to not gain one after dealing with it.

The wheeling and dealing is most definitely happening after that too.

>>5493550
>You will prove to the Serpent Priesthood that the Bloodrise—and the multicultural Dark Alliance you are building there—deserves their support and recognition
>Seduction
I want to see if we can seduce the Novices into season.

>>5493609
>diplomacy
[Good catch! Yes, that is the other social stat you can boost by one star with two EXP. Meant to include that. Woops!]

>>5493547
>You are a Dragon King, no matter what anyone says, and you will RULE as one! If the Serpent priests have a problem with that… Well, perhaps you will grant them an audience and hear the aging order’s grievances, in YOUR court
>Seduction
Welcome back RQM!

>>5493538
Become a Dragonborn Propaladin

>7th thread of Antipaladin quest
>Current level in Antipaladin class : 0
What are the implications, anons?

>>5494190
That we technically suck at our job! ;^)

>>5494190
[All your initial class options, and your specializations since then, are technically 'antipaladin classes' for the purposes of the setting. You just never chose a specific patron deity, but that's fine -- you have still invoked gods to perform miracles, preached the virtues of your pantheon, smote enemies in their name. It doesn't get much more paladiny than that!]

tldr, the REAL paladin class was the gods you impressed along the way

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>>5493563
>>5493595
>>5493609
>>5493918
>>5494185

You answer the Novice thusly:

“I will prove to the Serpent Priesthood—even to your father—that Bloodrise is a worthy project. This Dark Alliance will form the foundation for a new AGE of Darkness.”

“But not an Age of Scales,” the Novice Fleshweaver notes. “Or not ONLY an Age of Scales. Dwarves, elves, even BUGBEARS… This alliance of yours is as impure as its founder. Do you really think MY sire will back such an endeavour?”

>+1 Seduction

“I guess I will just need to keep my own Serpent Priestess close at hand, to keep an eye on me and to ensure I walk a righteous path.”

The Novice narrows her eyes.

“We both know whose eyes linger longer upon the other, Degenerateborn.”

“Would that it were more than eyes,” you muse.

The Novice scoffs, her tail whipping the stone beneath her talons irritably. With your knack for <Reptilian Empathy>, you sense the distinct admixture of embarrassment and pride which such statements are wont to invoke in your beloved mage-companion.

“They will see that OUR efforts deserve their recognition and support,” you assert.

The Novice glance back at you, and you sense… Uncertainty in her.

You and your company are close now to where you set out from a month hence: the border-camp of the Drow scouts, commanded by Princess Jazkarmel. This camp itself is a scant week from your own base-of-operations in the Bloodrise Mountains. You wonder how things have developed in your absence—the projects of development and veiled trade which you ordered? And then there’s the matter of the bugbear raids…

In your own travels, you encountered some of those furry fiends, and discovered them to be no mere raiders, but undead minions of that false prophet and thieving traitor, Hapo. Despite a clever ambush, they were no match for you and yours—not without the power of the envy demon which you keep trapped and separated from the kobold. It dwells within a ring, within a box, within your back, sealed away from Hapo. Without it, he can be no match for you… Right?

And then there is the Green Knight—the emerald-clad adventurer who slew your mother, and who periodically plagues your dreams. Since you arrived in Wevenore, the city-state of the Drow, the dreams have abated… But as you make your glorious return, those most inglorious visions of this destined adversary have returned, such that even resting your head in your Novice’s lap is insufficient to banish them entirely.

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>>5494381
You are no weak-willed surface-mammal, though. You are an Antipaladin, a Champion, a True Dragon King! As the Dark Gods will only help those with the strength and determination to first help themselves, you do exactly that: as you travel, you train your body and mind for the dangers ahead. You find the most success in…

>Practicing your swordplay with the Drow Duelist, Azonia
>Honing your skill with the bow with your close companion, the half-breed Archer called Oluwadamilare
>Strengthening your command of spellcraft with the aid of Princess Jazkarmel herself
>Expanding your natural reptilian affinities to other kingdoms of life, with the aid of the Centipede Lancer and Throat-singer
>Write-in

>>5494383
>Practicing your swordplay with the Drow Duelist, Azonia
I know that one anon wanted to duel wield. I wouldn’t mind spellcraft winning though, our Elemental magic keeps saving our ass.

>>5494383
>Strengthening your command of spellcraft with the aid of Princess Jazkarmel herself

We really improved seduction, really? Not something actually useful like leadership?

>>5494423
Supporting this

And yeah, we should’ve saved the XP point

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>>5494423
>>5494493
I choose to take it as a compliment

>>5494383
>Strengthening your command of spellcraft with the aid of Princess Jazkarmel herself

>>5494383
>Practicing your swordplay with the Drow Duelist, Azonia
SHOGSORD is the real waifu

>>5494383
>Practicing your swordplay with the Drow Duelist, Azonia

>>5494389
>>5494619
>>5494653
>>5494513
>>5494423
>>5494493
[Well, it's a tie game, so it looks like we're going to post the next update tomorrow evening!]

>Strengthening your command of spellcraft with the aid of Princess Jazkarmel herself
Am >>5494190

>>5494383
>Strengthening your command of spellcraft with the aid of Princess Jazkarmel herself.

Our magic swords and our inhumane strength means we win most combats that aren't against freaks of nature.

By comparison, our spell craft abilities are shallow and need work.

>>5494383
>Practicing your swordplay with the Drow Duelist, Azonia
Duel. Wielding. Legendary. Swords.
Come on, they’re both Nat 100, we NEED to duel wield them!

>>5495269
>>5495246
>>5495199
>>5494389
>>5494619
>>5494653
>>5494513
>>5494423
>>5494493
A combination of martial training and biological manipulation via the Novice Fleshweaver’s Dragon Amulet has endowed you with greater size, strength, and sword-skill than ever before. Coupled with your weaponry—two magical swords, one of allegedly-divine origin and one forged from the remnants of a powerful aberration—makes you a formidable fighting force! On the one hand, you would love to further exaggerate this advantage with further training… But on the other hand, your magic could also use work.

Spellcraft has proven both useful and unreliable at current juncture. While it has undeniably saved your life on more than one occasion, your current command of the discipline makes it less reliable than perhaps it could be. While the Drow Princess called Jazkarmel has limited skill in the specific magic disciplines which you favour (divination, elemental magics, and biological or ‘fleshweaving’ spells), she IS a naturally-gifted and well-trained elven mage in her own fields. You could sue her insight.

“I would borrow the Princess.”

You thus inform she and Olu the Archer, when you find the two of them. As they often do, the odd couple snuck away during your pause in the homeward hike to enjoy each other’s company. The two have become romantically entangled—and sexually entangled, though thankfully you found them engaged in less athletic displays of mutual affection than that. They must enjoy it while they can, since they will soon be parting.

Jazkarmel looks a little exasperated at the interruption of their privacy, but your Archer squeezes her hand comfortingly and shrugs.

“Duty calls,” he accepts in Dark Elventongue, then adds a promise: “I will see you soon.”

The Drow Leader nods, then turns to you with a quizzical quirk of her eyebrow.

“How can I assist?”

When you explain your need for magic tutelage, you realize you have struck upon a sore spot.

“Why not ask the Ambassador?” she asks, with a slight edge to her tone.

You wouldn’t tolerate such back-talk for your subordinates, but then again, Jazkarmel does not serve you. Aside from this, she is your friend, and you understand the nature of her grievance. It was your decision, made for political and tactical reasons rather than for sentimental ones, to reject her as Wevemore’s formal representative in your Bloodrise ‘court’. Instead, you took on an ambassador of the new king, also known to be a skilled insect-trainer and illusionist, to tutor your bard-slave and to serve as your connection to the City of the Drow…

And thus, you separated she and the Archer from one another.

>>5495469
“The Ambassador is otherwise occupied,” you explain, “and you have greater raw power, or so I am told.”

Jazkarmel looks as bemused as affronted, but yields when you point out the truth: you’ve scarcely seen her work any actual magic in your time together.

“Well then, no WONDER you took that Lahlabar servant over me!” she smiles wryly, showing some of her usual good humour. “Let me show you how silly that was!”

According to rumours and your own brief observations of her technique, the Borderguard Princess is most adept in combat magic. You suppose it only makes sense, in such a role, and it is this that makes her perfect to tutor you. Most magecraft breaks and buckles in close quarters, concentration shattering under physical rigour and divided focus. Jazkarmel’s strength is the way in which she summons forth blasts of blinding and stinging light, then cloaks herself in shadow and glamour, all while wielding her mage’s staff like a cudgel or quarterstaff at the same time.

“Impressive!” you admit, breathing heavily from the brief sparring match. “What was that technique you demonstrated?”

“<Guiding Bolt>?” she asks, with a grin and a wink. “You WOULD be interested in that. It’s useful for we who command. Lights up the enemy even as it burns them, so they can’t hide from your friends or their arrows.”

Do you attempt to smooth things over with Jazkarmel?
>Apologize for troubling she and Olu—though it was necessary, you understand her angst
>Appeal to her professionalism as a fellow warrior of the underdark and one used to difficult command decisions
>You? Apologize? For being LOGICAL? Jazkarmel is a mammal, bit no fool—she will get over it.
>Write-in

What will you ask Jazkarmel to teach you?
>A new spell – this “Guiding Bolt” [deals damage with clinging white light, grants targeted enemies penalties to hide and allies bonus to hit them]
>Close-quarters casting [raises Spellcraft by one point, improving focus in combat, and improving your general understanding and awareness of magic]
>Actually… Illusion, such as allows Jazkarmel to hide and blinds her foes… This could be a worthy addition to your arsenal [Gain two low-level Illusion spells, Dazzle and Shadow, and gain a rank in Illusion]

>>5495471
>Apologize for troubling she and Olu—though it was necessary, you understand her angst

>Close-quarters casting [raises Spellcraft by one point, improving focus in combat, and improving your general understanding and awareness of magic]

>>5495471
>Apologize for troubling she and Olu—though it was necessary, you understand her angst
>Actually… Illusion, such as allows Jazkarmel to hide and blinds her foes… This could be a worthy addition to your arsenal [Gain two low-level Illusion spells, Dazzle and Shadow, and gain a rank in Illusion]
Honestly choosing Illusion for nostalgia reasons. I really like all these options.

>>5495471
>Apologize for troubling she and Olu—though it was necessary, you understand her angst

>Close-quarters casting [raises Spellcraft by one point, improving focus in combat, and improving your general understanding and awareness of magic]

>>5495508
Supporting

>>5495471
>You? Apologize? For being LOGICAL? Jazkarmel is a mammal, bit no fool—she will get over it.

>Actually… Illusion, such as allows Jazkarmel to hide and blinds her foes… This could be a worthy addition to your arsenal [Gain two low-level Illusion spells, Dazzle and Shadow, and gain a rank in Illusion]

>>5495517
+1

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Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>5495777
>>5495761
>>5495716
>>5495575
>>5495517
>>5495508
[Post coming soon, flipping coin for tiebreaker]

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>>5496107
>>5496107
“Your abilities are admirable,” you acknowledge readily. “The way you manipulate light and shadow to your advantage… It s of particular merit, facing foes from above and below alike. Those accustomed to darkness can be blinded with light, those used to light can be blinded by its absence.”

“I wasn’t given command of a border patrol at random,” Jazkarmel quips.

“I can see that. I am impressed.”

The Drow frowns, and looks away.

“And yet,” she notes sourly, “with the border patrol I shall remain.”

You wince a little under this implicit critique. It behooves you to say something, you feel… But expressing such feelings as empath and affection remains somewhat alien to you, a foreign country, barely colonized.

“I… Understand.”

Jazkarmel raises her eyebrows, looking back at you.

“It was necessary,” you explai. “Our alliance, our races’ futures, it RELIES upon relations between Bloodrise and Wevenore. It was not… EPrsonal.”

“So it goes, with lizardmen.”

You sense some tension there, and you realize at length that Jazkarmel is not upset with YOU… But with your subordinate—her lover, the Archer.

“Oluwadamilare is loyal to the cause,” you say. “It does not mean he does not love you.”

Jazkarmel huffs, and rubs her forehead.

“He can’t even tell me what his lifespan is, as a hybrid. Humans… They live such short lives! Who knows how long we have? And yet…”

You hesitate a moment, then do as the elves do, and rest your clawed hand upon the smoothness of Jazkarmel’s silk-swathed shoulder. She pause sin surprise.

“He does this for your future, and his, as well.”

You think of the Novice, and of your other… Well, not LOVE, necessarily, but your first mate, and the bearer of your children: the great glowworm-queen whom you call ‘Glowie’, bearer of a clutch of your eggs. She waits for you at the Drow encampment even now.

“We all do what we must,” you say, “for those whom we care for. It is not always a GOOD thing, but it is a NECESSARY thing… And it is done out of love.”

Jazkarmel meets your eyes for time in silence, then laughs her crystalline laugh, and rests her forehead upon your chest as she collects herself from the outburst.

“You know, you have become a very sappy creature, Theral,” she comments.

“I am sorry,” you say.

“I know,” the Borderguard Princess acknowledges. “Now, assume the position. We meditate until you can summon light and darkness as easily as you control fire and earth.”

>+1 Illusion
>Learned: Dazzle [Imposes a minor disadvantage against any foe when successful, and a doubly-severe disadvantage against those used to darkness]
>Learned: Shadow [Imposes a minor disadvantage against any foe when successful, and a doubly-severe disadvantage against those unused to darkness]

<C>

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>>5496232
>>5496232
Your lessons go well. Through concentration, you can now generate flashing sparks of light, or deepen shadows into magical darkness sufficient to hide your movements. You are no master of the illusory arts, and these talents come more slowly to you than do those of elemental or biological mastery, but nor are they foreign to you. In fact, you think you feel something akin to… Deja vu, and unplaceable familiarity.

It helps that Jazkarmel is a teacher both exacting and kind, encouraging in victory and failure. In these days of lessons, you are reminded anew that while you have lived scarcely two decades, this dark elf has dwelled in the below-realms for likely five times as long.

Unfortunately, it is not long before these skills—and all those others which you have acquired—are put to the test.

It is a few days later when you finally arrive at the Drow border-camp which you left many weeks ago. However, what should be a gloriously-triumphant return is stymied by the cruel realities of your savage empire. You arrive not to the beauteous songs and playfully-dancing blades of black-skinned elves at play, but instead to the wails and war-cries of Drow fighting for their lives.

“What in the hells?!” Jazkarmel demands, alighting her staff to illuminate the cavern where her forces have long made their base-camp.

Below your stony ramp, atop the well-worn stone of the barren base-camp, you see toppled and torn tents, scattered bodies, and the clashing of humanoids engaged in the aeons-long struggle, of life and death. To your horror and rage, you see not just the bugbears which you by now expected, but others: dwarves, kobolds, and subterranean entities unknown. You even witness other Drow with twisted bodies and bloodied faces contorted in death-screams, moving with uncanny awkwardness and unnatural speed, risen in undeath to slay their fellows and friends.

“It is that damned kobold!” The Novice Fleshweaver hisses at you side.

“Hapo,” Karz Throat-singer grunts in Northern Common-tongue, reaching the same conclusion.

You feel your fire rise within, your Dragon Soul incensed at this pretender’s reproach. He must be HUMBLED!

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>>5496253
Then, you feel a shock of pain, not physical but… Psychic.

Glowie!

She was bloated, freshly-moulted, and with her new exoskeleton still half-formed when lats you saw her… Hidden away in her private chamber nearby, guarded by only two scrawny elven nursemaids, guarding your seven unborn sons, still but half-formed grub-things ensconced in translucent eggs!

What will you do?
>Hold together! Lead your forces in a unified and strategic assault upon the mass of the undead, pushing them back and ending their menace in a way that preserves as many lives as possible
>Rush in! Use all your magic and might to plunge through the mass of undead, and to seek out the source—that damned Hapo!—and end him and his threat now and forever
>Save her! Glowie, your first mate, your sons’ mother, is in danger! How can you champion love and yet risk her life? Let the others face the horde, but you will NOT let her perish
>It’s you they want! You and that demon-of-envy, trapped in your pack… Take out the box, expose the ring, and draw the undead menace away from the camp to face you alone, while others evacuate
>Write-in

[Full disclosure, character death is not IMMEDIATE, but IS on the table. Backlink 1 post IDs; I won't dismiss them out-of-hand, but will be watching them]

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>>5496256
*nine unborn sons
[Please pardon my first major continuity faux pas. I somehow remembered a more alliterative number of sons.]

>>5496256
>Hold together! Lead your forces in a unified and strategic assault upon the mass of the undead, pushing them back and ending their menace in a way that preserves as many lives as possible
>Send an elite Kill-Squad of our Drow allies and Lizardmen to secure Glowie and our brood
I don’t think we should be stupid her. I also think letting Glowie and our blessed children get killed is unacceptable.

>>5496256
>Save her! Glowie, your first mate, your sons’ mother, is in danger! How can you champion love and yet risk her life? Let the others face the horde, but you will NOT let her perish

>>5496256
>Summon the lightning elemental to guard our allies

This thing is pretty powerful this should serve to delay the undead at least a little

>Rush in to save Glowie
Our kids and our alliance with the Mother of Dragons depend on her.

>>5496256
>Save her! Glowie, your first mate, your sons’ mother, is in danger! How can you champion love and yet risk her life? Let the others face the horde, but you will NOT let her perish
Shes important to us having a genuine "kingship", part of our now super intricate dealings with the mother of drowgons, and the fate of the wyrmlings, plus glowie hasnt been in a thread in a hot minute

>>5496806
Supporting this

>>5496882
>>5496806
>>5496649
Does glowie even need help though??

She naturally has poisoned mandibles which are now giant sized, and novice said that our kids would be monstrous even beyond the glow solider norm due to the red dragon blood, flesh crafting she performed on them.

I feel that as long as we quickly rout this army glowie should be fine.

>>5496256
>Rush in! Use all your magic and might to plunge through the mass of undead, and to seek out the source—that damned Hapo!—and end him and his threat now and forever

Either we kill Hapo and his horde is now leaderless, or we threaten him enough that he has to pull back his forces to protect himself.

>>5496256
>Rush in! Use all your magic and might to plunge through the mass of undead, and to seek out the source—that damned Hapo!—and end him and his threat now and forever
>Have Jaz and some elites run over to Glowie’s cave to protect her
Jaz knows illusion magic, yea? She could hide the cave from undead senses.
>Use the elemental- either in defending Glowie, or attacking
Time to bring out the big guns.

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Rolled 9, 6, 1, 16, 13, 2, 12, 16, 5, 15, 14 = 109 (11d20)

>>5497270
>>5497257
>>5496962
>>5496882
>>5496806
>>5496649
>>5496608
[Vote locked, post incoming!]
4 Athleticism, 3 Leadership, 2d20 for your forces, 1d20 bonus die for clever use of Elemental, 1d20 for the enemies and/or environmental hazards

File: Screenshot 2022-12-14 195129.png (1.19 MB, 713x920)

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>>5497311
“Princess!” you address Jazkarmel. “Duelist! Lancer! Archer! All of you—handle these menaces!”

>Leadership 13

“Wh-what?” Azonia the Duelist scrambles, drawing her baldes. “’Handle’ them? I mean, OBVIOUSLY, but what are YOU going to be doing?”

“Wait,” Karz Throat-singer interjects. “What am I doing?”

You are already gone by the time the questions are uttered. You hear them, but don’t slow to answer them. They are competent enough—they do not need your personal oversight. This is a good thing, because your first priority is clear—for reasons from the personal to political, tactical to spiritual: Glowie.

The great glow-worm ‘queen’ may be able to handle herself, too, admittedly. She IS a giant bug-monster with terrifying venomous mandibles… But then again, can venom even affect the undead? And what of your sons—have they hatched? What sort of form have they taken if so? If not… how durable are those translucent, rubbery insect-shells of theirs? No. It’s not a risk you’re willing to take...


<bzzZZ-krakKRAK>

…But you don’t forsake your friends, either. You command your lightning elemental, tamed by your will and ever-near since then, to rise and annihilate. Unfortunately, your control of it is imprecise, its understanding of your commands incomplete. Even as you hurtle through the caverns, you hear the buzzing and crackling accompanied by the screams of Drow scouts and the croaking roars of undead footsoldiers alike.


Bah, no time for that. As you suspected—dreaded, really—the scourge of cursed unlife is not isolated to the main camp. You spy torn-and-ragged kobolds, bugbears, and corpses so desiccated as to be unrecognizable shuffling and lurching purposefully about the camp, accosting any who cannot escape their clutches or gathering whatever weapons and valuables they can get their filthy hands upon. They readily wield these weapons against you, and with surprising force—they may be rotting, but they are no mere shamblers when they sense an enemy at hand, and they strike with unnatural strength and speed.

>16 Athleticism

They’re no match for you in a straight swordfight even so… But you’ve got no time to prove this point of pride, either. You dip and dodge the swings and thrusts, barreling past them and <Jumping> over a small horde the walking corpses and down to the entrance to Glowie’s brood-cavern. The spell takes a lot less out of you than it once did, attesting to your growing magical aptitude and mana reservoir—or perhaps just your honed physique means you need to channel less energy into the spell to get the same effect. Either way, it brings you to your destination without delay…

And there you find your first unavoidable interruption.

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>>5497340
The pair of abominations loom hunchbacked over a slim-waisted elven effete--one of Glowie’s attendants, still whimpering with the remnants despite having been cracked open from above and behind and splayed out like a dissected specimen. Her black chin is now grey with ash or red with heat, scorched to the point of splitting by hellfire… And yet she lives. Demons, even these dull-witted hounds of the hellish realms, relish in mortal suffering. The two have been playing with their food.

The brooding-caverns were specially-chosen to be accessible by only one entrance, so that Glowie could be safely guarded from both physical threats AND unauthorized disclosure during her metamorphosis and the laying of her eggs. Her true nature, and ESPECIALLY the paternity of her spawn, remains a closely-guarded secret, of which only the Novice Fleshweaver is aware. However, this security comes at a price: she has no alternate means of escape, nor do you have any secondary way to reach her.

Thus, when the hellhounds spy you, they do not immediately attack. They hold their ground. Your course is clear—they know where you are going, and they know you have to go through them to get there. Their faintly-canid forms twist and contort in ways that give lie to any corporeal normality, swelling and stretch, their faces spread out into vertically-split grins as they spit infernal invective at you.

What will you do?
>You are fireproof… Though, admittedly, you’ve not tested your mettle against the fires of Hell just yet. Bullrush them and wrestle them into submission!
[Fisticuffs, fast and (probably) effective]
><Dazzle> them and loose some strategic arrows to kill them safely from a distance
[Illusion + Archery, maintains a safe distance or baits them out, but leaves Glowie alone longer]
>Draw your ancient elven moonblade and, with a pulse of magic, slash them in twain with a channeled <Moonbeam>!
[Sword Mastery + Elementalism, gives them a chance to strike, high mana cost, but if you win they’re done for]
>Assume your <Dragonshape> and command their surrender and submission
[Intimidation, high DC but could net your missions; however, high mana cost and they aren’t just going to passively watch you transform]
>Another, smarter thing
[Write-in]

>>5497342
>Chop them up with the shogsword
what could be better suited to killing demons with weird corporeality?

>>5497342
>You are fireproof… Though, admittedly, you’ve not tested your mettle against the fires of Hell just yet. Bullrush them and wrestle them into submission!

A DRAGON does not fear the flame

>>5497342
>>Another, smarter thing
>Bypass the hell hounds entirely by flying above them with Dragon Wings (L) and blocking their pursuit down the single entrance with wall of stone afterwards.

>>5497469
Supportin'

>>5497342
>You are fireproof… Though, admittedly, you’ve not tested your mettle against the fires of Hell just yet. Bullrush them and wrestle them into submission!

>>5497469
>>5497472

I don't think we can actually fly though, lmao. We just have big ass wings.

>>5497544
[Lesser Dragon's Wings grants (temporary, magically costly) flight.]

>>5497371
[An interesting idea... Hm.]

>>5497469
Support if RQM allows it if not…
>You are fireproof… Though, admittedly, you’ve not tested your mettle against the fires of Hell just yet. Bullrush them and wrestle them into submission!
>Assume your <Dragonshape> and command their surrender and submission
We can do both, right? Fight while transforming?

File: woops forgot a spell.png (478 KB, 1578x778)

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Rolled 10, 20, 9, 1, 4, 6, 18, 1, 4, 13 = 86 (10d20)

>>5497371
>>5497427
>>5497469
>>5497472
>>5497536
>>5497723
>4 Spellcraft/Bio. Manipulation to grow the wings and hold the spell under attack, 3 Elementalism for the Wall of Stone, 2 dice for your adversaries, 1 mystery die.
>All DCs lowered by that enterprising write-in using a spell I forgot to put on the character sheet

>>5497939
>20, 18 for us
>1,4 for them
>13 mystery.
Either it was a roll to attack Glowie, or overall how she's doing. both case, we should be fine... Right anons?

>>5497950
>>5497939

Your gaze shifts upwards, from the Hellish horror-hounds to the roof of the tunnel behind them. It’s a narrow gap, due to the low ceiling, but you are not without your agility and flexibility. If you can make it over them without issue, you can bypass these monsters to reach your mate.

Luckily, you know just the combination of spells to achieve this.

You shift your stance, roll your shoulders, lower your head, and focus your mind. You remember the feeling of moving muscles which you no longer have—phantom limbs, granting phantom flight. The Novice’s amulet burns brightly upon your breast as you take deep and even breaths, willing your spine and shoulders to split, morph, reshape. Luckily, your bare-chested elven armour enables this transformation without issue…

>Hellhound: 1
>Transformation: 20

…But your foes are not so obliging.

One of the hellhounds lets loose a soul-quaking sound, half-screech and half-roar, and launches itself at you. Luckily, your wings are three-quarters formed, and this proves more than ample to form a shield with their hardening membranes. The beast scrambles across the great wings’ surface, slashing with heated claws and biting with spectral, half-formed head. You focus upon the spell and, completing it, spread them wide and hurl the whining demon back into its fellow. Then, free of interference, you take flight!

You soar over the hateful devil-beasts with regal glory. The two demons bite and snarl at each other as they stumble to stand. The one who held back throws off the other, whom you battered and threw, and hurries to intercept you. You dodge a snap of the demon’s jaws with a beat of your wings, bringing you dangerously close to cavern-roof, and then engage in a twirling dive to evade a whip of a long, barbed tentacle-tongue which bursts from between those unholy peg-teeth. The hound crashes down, while your own landing is somewhat more graceful—you land behind the hounds, in the tunnel, and turn around to face them from the other side now.

“Enough!” you roar. “I have no time to deal with more dogs.”

You plant your feet in a wide stance and focusing your power up through your core and into your hands, lower them and then lift them as if raising a great weight. The stone of the cavern floor moves with you, startling the hounds as a <Wall of Stone> begins to form, sealing them off from you and from Glowie and your offspring…

>>5497963
>Hellhound: 18
>Elementalism: 1

But while the one hound remains stunned from its earlier failure, its companion is more dangerously competent. Seizing the fumbling hound’s throat in its jaws, this second hellhound hurls its ostensible ally into the gap between your half-erected wall and the ceiling. The other hellhound screams in pain and rage at this betrayal, but its sacrifice is sufficient to delay the formation of the structure… Just long enough for the other hound to hurtle through the wedged-open space and to land on your side of the wall.

The wall is no barrier keeping this hound out, but a fence keeping you and your brood trapped in here with a ravenous beast.

>???: 13

You reach for one of your blades, preparing to face down this persistent predator, when you hear an alarmingly-loud chittering sound in the cavern behind you—no, a chorus of them. You turn swiftly, automatically shifting your attention to your sons and their mother, only for a heavy impact and lancing pain to remind you that the hellhound yet remains. The quasi-canid pins you in an instant, taking advantage of your surprise to sink its teeth into your forearm; your gauntlets protect you, but its twisted appendages rake your chest, drawing blood and inflicting a burning chill upon you that sets you to shivering. You hurl it up, and quickly roll to your feet…

But then you hear another cry from Glowie and her spawn—your sons.

What do you do?
>Face down the hound [specify a weapon, spell, or tactuc]
>Forget the hound for now—hurry to Glowie first!
>Summon your third elemental—the ice elemental—to occupy the hellhound while you go ahead
>Write-in

>>5497966
Wait, did i misread the roll?
10, 20, 9, 1, Spellcraft/Bio 4d20
4, 6, 18, Elementalism 3d20
1, 4, Hellhound
13 Mystery

Why are we stucked with the hound?

>>5498023
[Damn, you are correct! My bad. You'll get yourselves a tidy bonus on next roll in lieu of a rewrite.]

>>5498041
>>Forget the hound for now—hurry to Glowie first!

>>5497966
>Forget the hound for now—hurry to Glowie first!

>>5497966
>Forget the hound for now—hurry to Glowie first!

>>5497966
>Try to intimidate the hound first, then rush to Glowie
So we should’ve beat them with that Nat 20 vs Nat 1, right? Or at least intimidated them into submission?

Shit happens I guess.

>>5498292
[Well, you went for fly + wall, so you would have just defetaed one and blocked one rather than defwatjng one and trapping one on your side.]

>>5498376
Ah. Shame that, I would’ve loved another pet.

>>5498399
[Unlike the Infiltrator, you have no Occultism skill, ao it would be tough to bind a demon.]
Even your comtrol of the elememtal is tenuous

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>>5498067
>>5498088
>>5498172
>>5498292
You clutch at your chest, glowering at the hound. You can’t afford to waste time here—there is obviously someone or something deeper down this tunnel, even now endangering all you have worked towards with Glowie and her ‘grandmother’, the Dark Goddess of Motherhood. However, to turn your back to one of the ireless soul-coursers of the fiery pits is to risk your own life.

Bah. Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?

You turn on heel. The hound leaps to shred, but with a swing of your spade-tipped tail you intercept the lunge and send it skittering and yelping into the stone wall. This buys you ample time to barrel ahead, evading immediate assault from the ear as you rush to Glowie’s aid—a darkly-chivalrous knight of a lady anything-but-fair.

You find the chamber much as you left-it: swathed in luminescent adhesive goo and hanging curtains formed from strands of silk. At the centre of the chamber is curled the great mass of Glowie: a thin-waisted parody of a humanoid or reptiloid shape, bearing a wide-set and faintly serpentine head with two many eyes and prominent pedipalps and venom-dripping fangs, while behind her rests the bulk of her digestive and reproductive apparatus—yards of bulging, translucent bug-flesh, to rival a small dragon.

Before her stands a greyish hulk built to rival her stature: a gauntly-muscular figure with shaggy hair upon its head and a tumorous body, lurching to one size and carrying a great, spiked cudgel. You recognize a troll when you see one, even only having heard of them from books and the Hunter’s tales… And yet, this thing moves with an unsettling grace for its cumbersome size, and with focus and purpose uncharacteristic of the breed. Undead, no doubt, puppeteered by your unseen Necromancer foe.

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>>5498590
Despite her towering form comparing favourably to the figure before her, your one-time mate’s posture is defensive, shrinking even while defiant. You quickly grasp why this is the case: hanging from the threads around her, you spy what can only be described as… Furry lumps, or tubes, shaggy caterpillar-things clinging to swaying strands of fabric. Still others cling to her great, grub-like frame, and she clutches one to her chest with unmistakable protectiveness. You count nine of the hairy things.

Nine eggs, hatched. Nine sons.

You hear the hound fast approaching on your heels, cruel claws scraping the stone for purchase as it bays for your blood. Both Glowie and the troll before her are distracted with their personal battle for the lives of your offspring. You have the element of surprise, but not for long, and if you squander it you will be flanked by your foes.

What will you do?
>Cast <Dazzle> to blind and disorient the troll, and draw your blade to stand between it and your family
[specify which sword(s) or daggers you wield]
>Cast <Shadow> to dark the space, and usher Glowie and the offspring to safety while you handle the demon and troll
>Assume <Dragonshape>, and join this clash of titans
>Draw your bow and loose an arrow with <Guidance>, to slay the troll or draw it out
>[UNLOCKED] Solve one problem with another—when the hound leaps for you, duck, and allow it to crash into the troll and stun them both
>Write-in

In deference to my earlier error, your primary roll for the next phase of this combat will have its difficulty reduced by 5, and will crit on a 15 or higher.

>>5498593
>Cast <Shadow> to dark the space, and usher Glowie and the offspring to safety while you handle the demon and troll
>[UNLOCKED] Solve one problem with another—when the hound leaps for you, duck, and allow it to crash into the troll and stun them both
Darken the cave, and make them both think that they are fighting us in the darkness.

>>5498593
>Cast <Shadow> to dark the space, and usher Glowie and the offspring to safety while you handle the demon and troll
>[UNLOCKED] Solve one problem with another—when the hound leaps for you, duck, and allow it to crash into the troll and stun them both

>>5498593
>[UNLOCKED] Solve one problem with another—when the hound leaps for you, duck, and allow it to crash into the troll and stun them both
normally this would be way too unlikely to go for but this upcoming roll has a mega bonus

I'll back shadowcasting if feasible

>>5498593
>[UNLOCKED] Solve one problem with another—when the hound leaps for you, duck, and allow it to crash into the troll and stun them both

>>5498593
>>[UNLOCKED] Solve one problem with another—when the hound leaps for you, duck, and allow it to crash into the troll and stun them both
>Then, assume <Dragonshape> and go bully them

>>5498593

>[UNLOCKED] Solve one problem with another—when the hound leaps for you, duck, and allow it to crash into the troll and stun them both

>>5498857
Support

If casting <Shadow> is on the table, also +1

>>5498593
>>[UNLOCKED] Solve one problem with another—when the hound leaps for you, duck, and allow it to crash into the troll and stun them both

We still need to kill hapo or his minions after this, we can't be wasting mana while there are still more enemies to fight.

Rolled 16, 15, 15, 1, 11, 10, 12, 14, 9, 19 = 122 (10d20)

>>5498995
>>5498985
>>5498892
>>5498857
>>5498742
>>5498711
>>5498609
>>5498598
[2d20 for Illusion, 5d20 Athleticism (bonus for dance) to dodge the leaping hellhound at the right time to redirect its attack towards the troll, 3d20 dice for enemies and allies]

>>5499134
Oh boy, I really hope that 19 is for ally as implied by the wording.
So... 16-15 illusion, 15 athletism..
Did we triple-crit?

>>5499152
>>5499134
>16 for Illusion: Critical success
Both the undead troll and GLowie are disoriented when the glow-goo of the chamber dims and sputters as a snuffed candle, plunging the scene into darkness. You understand their disorientation—like them, you can see in pitch black, but as with their own sight, it takes some time to adjust from the colour-vision brought on by light and to return once more to the monochromatic Darkvision.

Luckily, it is not Glowie’s only useful sense—she has a vibratory Tremorsense as well, inherited from her people’s mundane glowworm forebears.

“My king!” Glowie enthuses, her enthusiasm vibrating the space as she senses your presence.

You do not speak, giving away your position, but instead gesture to her—first, to hold. The devil-dog is still hot on your heels, seemingly untroubled by the total blackness of the space… But hurtling at such speed that coming to a sudden stop would be impossible. You bait the beast by turning to face it and striking a mock battle-stance. In actuality, you have no idea of its exact location, and little experience in blind-fighting. Instead, you let your muscles loosen, your mind clear, your nictitating membranes slide over your eyes, and your <Danger Sense> take autonomic control.

>15 for Dodge & Redirect
>14 for Hellhound
>9 for Undead Troll

At the last possible moment, your body twirls with dancer’s grace out of the course of the gleefully-growling demon. It realizes too late what you have done, while the troll does not even understand THAT much—at least, you assume it doesn’t by the sound of the hellhound’s impact, and then the wrathful groaning of the undead behemoth and the sound of smashing wood and bone, and the frantic protestations of the suddenly-quite-talkative beast.

Now! You beckon to Glowie to move as swiftly as her girth can manage. She delays only momentarily, long enough to collect to cat-sized bundles of bristly fur; as your Darkvision takes hold and your glimpse her at work, you are reminded of the sight of kobold servants plucking clumps of fungus from cave walls.

>>5499174
>19 for Glowie

With a surprising lithesomeness for her size, Glowie dodges the clumsy and uncoordinated flailing of the shadow-stymied and impact-staggered brute who moves to stop her. One by one, she collects your sons. Your bizarre offspring curl in on themselves as she gathers them, quietly humming them a comforting song. They form almost perfect spheres, vibrating with their own peculiar response to her maternal tune. As she clutches them tightly, she pulls herself past you, and the tone of her hum shifts briefly to the ‘love song’ which she so often thrummed in your presence. Two of her hands are full, but in this form, she has four; one reaches out to touch yours, and for a moment you hold it.

There is no time for reunions, though. The troll has all but battered the hound to the point of banishment—the latter lies whimpering and broken upon the floor, its corporeality dissipating as the gifted and stolen energies holding its physical form together spent and its essence barely clinging to this plane. Its unwitting annihilator, though, has regained its own senses. It sets its sights on departing Glowie, and then upon you.

“Dragonborn!” it bellows.

>>5499175
You are startled when the thing speaks, rather than simply moaning and groaning in the manner of the other undead. You squint, and with your sixth sense you spy a peculiar glint in the troll-thrall’s eyes—that of Divination magic, tying it to a distant viewer.

“Hapo,” you deduce, “the Traitor.”

“Hapo the Mighty-Strong!” the troll protests, its guttural and rumbling voice so unlike that of the kobold speaking through it. “Hapo the REAL-real Dragon King of Bloodrise! YOU are traitor, liar, fake-false, PRETEND dragon, stealing my place and making kobolds slaves!”

You size up the stinking, desiccated troll-corpse which now advances towards you, club splintered upon the rock and upon the defeated demon upon which it now wantonly treads.

“I do not see the makings of a True Dragon here,” you scoff.

“This is because you steal-thief it! You kill-murdered Hako and TOOK it!”

You clue in quickly. He means the envy-demon hidden in your pack—his treasure, which allowed he and now-dead Hako to fuse with one another, and with the bloodlines of basilisks and dragons, to form a winged ‘Dragonwrought’ form. It was in this guise that they were ruling Bloodrise’s kobolds, when you arrived to pacify them and take control.

“Had planned to capture-ransom your elf-friends… Well, those that survived. Make you give it back. But then… Surprise-surprise! This BUG was living here, too… And with little babies, yes, with little dragon faces!”

You freeze. You hadn’t got a clear look at your sons in the chaos and darkness.

“And covered in hair-fuzz,” Hapo notes through the troll, whose awful, tusked maw splits into a lopsided and snaggletoothed grin. “What other dragons have hair, besides fake-false DragonBORN? Not knowing… Gets me wondering…”

You gnash your teeth at the impudence.

“What HAVE you been doing with the dragon hatchlings and magic you stole from Hapo and Hako, I guess-wonder…”

He knows (or correctly suspects) too much! But… You are facing a pawn, a remote vessel. The real Hapo… He must be near to control so many undead and demons, and with such precision, right?

>>5499176
You narrowly dodge a swing of the troll’s club, backing up a step. Your magically-induced darkens is beginning to give way to the glow of Glowie’s luminescent secretions again, while her alarmed chattering reveals that she has met the wall which you set as barricade. Only you stand between the troll-thrall and her, and you have precious little room to work with—and no time to waste.

What will you do?
>Enough talk—it’s time to fight! Assume <Dragonshape> with the majority of your remaining mana, and take up arms [which sword(s)?]
>Use your <Guidance>, <Jump>, and athleticism to draw out the fight, and maybe to goad Hapo into giving away more information about his plans, while you try to scry his location
>The chamber is empty of your mate and kin now… While it could potentially be dangerous if it fails, a blast of Firebreath and an <Earth Tremor> could turn the brood-chamber into an oven
>Write-in

>>5499179
>>Use your <Guidance>, <Jump>, and athleticism to draw out the fight, and maybe to goad Hapo into giving away more information about his plans, while you try to scry his location

Good chance to get him talking too much.

>>5499179
>Use your <Guidance>, <Jump>, and athleticism to draw out the fight, and maybe to goad Hapo into giving away more information about his plans, while you try to scry his location

>Also utilize <See Invisibility>- the cheeky little kobold may be hiding right under your nose

>>5499179
>Use your <Guidance>, <Jump>, and athleticism to draw out the fight, and maybe to goad Hapo into giving away more information about his plans, while you try to scry his location

Hapo is low IQ

>>5499179
>Use your <Guidance>, <Jump>, and athleticism to draw out the fight, and maybe to goad Hapo into giving away more information about his plans, while you try to scry his location
More info is always good. Also, never saw a fuzzy worm Hapo? Only shit he got us on is using the Dragon remains to experiment with another creature, and even then, we have the Drowgon to point at. He really got jack shit on us.

And to think, had he simply served us loyally, he probably would’ve gotten his Dragonwrought desires via our MoD blessings.

File: A11-Q3dOtTL.jpg (1.09 MB, 1650x2531)

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Rolled 4, 14, 3, 4, 11, 2, 20, 10, 4 = 72 (9d20)

>>5499184
>>5499272
>>5499360
>>5499745
[3d20 divination, 4d20 athleticism (DC reduced for <Jump>, 2d20 for enemy actions]

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>>5499817
>>5499817
You calm yourself. Hapo is an impetuous little fool of a kobold, but that’s not reason to be upset. On the contrary, it’s something to be GLAD for. If he is a fool, you can PLAY him for a fool, and use his indignation and small-mindedness against him.

“It is an interesting story,” you note calmly.

“It is more than a story!” your Necromancer adversary assert through his thrall. “I have trapep-cuaght you, Liar King!”

You dodge a blow of his troll-minion’s club with ease, channeling you remaining mana to bolster your agility and foresight. You can’t keep it up for long, but that just means you must make the most of the time you have.

“It is curious that a kobold from high mountains in a forested region acts as if he has never seen a fuzzy caterpillar before,” you mock. “Did you really think you had something there, One-Who-Plays-With-Corpses?”

“I am HAPO, the NECROMANCER!” the troll roars on its master’s behalf, as you leap over a horizontal swing, twirling in mid-air, to plant you feet upon the roof.

“Hardly a more flattering title,” you snort. “Only a kobold would think necromancy so great an art as to make him equal to a True Dragon. You have no inkling of real power, whelp!”

You reach out with your sixth sense, trying to find the thread between dominated and dominator, but the troll interrupts you with another swat of its weapon; you avoid the impact, but lose your concentration in the process.

>13 for divination; narrow failure

“You are right about the draconic faces, I admit,” you casually divulge. “But surely you know how I achieved that? After all, I used methods not unlike your own... Maybe, if you’d had the sense to remain loyal to me, you would be privy to these secrets?”

“I KNEW-knew it!”

The troll reaches for you with a ragged-nailed, skeletal hand. You focus once more upon your <Jump> cantrip and, with suddenness the lurching corpse-creature cannot match, evade its grasp.

“Is that why you’ve come back?” you goad. “For the hatchling corpses? They are all used up. Done!”

It’s a lie, but the Necromancer doesn’t need to know that. If you can’t locate Hapo, you can at least draw out some useful intelligence.

“You are fool! IDIOT-fool!” Hapo boasts thoughtlessly. “You think I am just wanting hatchlings? You are contenting yourself with little books for young-young babies, with corpses of tiny-little dragons, but Hapo thinking BIGGER! Much bigger! GREAT-bigger!”

The troll gurgles with laughter, an echo of the kobold’s distant cackling. You feel a chill, but power through it, stepping from foot to foot with dancer’s timing to avoid one, two, three crushing blows from the troll.

“Something as small and pathetic as you cannot possibly be ‘great-bigger’ than anything,” you say, rattling with mean-spirited laughter.

‘What is he up to?,’ you wonder…

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>>5499833

The troll roars in fury, but you duck between its widely-placed legs and evade its reach.

“You will see!” Hapo declares. “All will see, and kobolds—EVERYONE—will know Hapo is REAL-real king! While you prance and play with elves and insects, Hapo is stealing ancient books and scrolls out from under weak-stupid dwarf slaves’ nose, making fools of big lizards… And soon, hatchlings will be USELESS things, next to REAL-real dragon!”

You narrow your eyes.

“What do you mean by ‘REAL-real dragon’?”

The troll’s mouth snaps shut, then its lips split open into a bloody, angry grimace as Hapo the Necromancer seems to finally realize your game.

“No!” he cries. “Enough! Now Dragonborn DIES!”

Bah. Well, all good things come to an end. It seems you’ll get no more information out of Hapo this day. Still, you think you have an inkling of his plan… Maybe.

>20 & 10 vs. 10 & 4

Better yet, you’ve managed to position yourself in such a way that the troll must contort awkward to reach you, while you have a clear shot at its ‘vitals’, such as they are. The beastly humanoid is undead, of course, but you know few entities in ANY semblance of life which can function after being bisected or burned.

How will you finish your foes this day?
>The moonblade
>The shoggoth-sword
>Firebreath
>Tooth and fang
>Write-in
Yes, the method matters

Have you figured out Hapo's scheme?
>Yes [write-in]
>No

>>5499836
>Firebreath

>Yes [He’s going to revive a full grown dragon]

>>5499865
>He’s going to revive a full grown dragon
Partial credit

>>5499836
>The shoggoth-sword
I'm holding out hope that shog will someday be powerful enough to induce insanity along these mental connections

bad touch shog

>>5499836
>Firebreath + Moonblade

>Hako's scheme
Pierced the plan of the Chaplain, will get for himself Green Bro and/or new generation and/or deep asleep/Banned into X dimension dragons

>>5500068
Support, though I’m also fine with the shogg-sword, I just want a Blade and Fire combo.

Merge with big-bro, us, or a dead dragon (or some combination therein of all three).

Also, maybe we can talk-no-jutsu him into coming around? I don’t think it’ll work, but I honestly find the idea funny. Maybe have turn one of our kobolds into the Dragonwrought? Hell, just show him Junior, have him get super jealous of the ghoulish dragon.

>>5499836
Ok second try

>He’s going to try to gather enough dragon genetic material to make a patchwork necromantic dragon that he will either become or control

>>5500130
I'm afraid using shogg so soon might give him insight on how to counter that on final showdown.
Fire to cut troll's regen, but not enough to turn the hatch room into an hoven, that might be detrimental to kiddregs. Then, moonblade because pokemon taught me moon is fairy aligned and super effective against dark.

>>5500132
Partial credit on the scheme again...

>>5500140
>>5500068
No credit for me? shame

>>5500143
They're good schemes, but not HAPO'S schemes.

>>5499817
Isn't that a 14 for Divination? I don't see a 13 anywhere.

>>5499836
>Firebreath + Moonblade

>Yes

Hapo's planning to animate (and maybe possess) the corpse of the old Great Red Dragon, which will be REAL bad.

>>5500243
[It was a 14, yes. Narrow failure regardless -- it was 15 to glean details of his surroundings, 18 for direction, and 20 for exact coordinates]

[Also, you guessed correctly!]

>>5499836
>The moonblade

Rolled 8, 10, 5, 8, 13, 10, 12, 13, 12 = 91 (9d20)

>>5499918
>>5500068
>>5500130
>>5500243
>>5500294
[Vote locked, post incoming ASAP.]

>>5500372
You've gathered all the intelligence you can, and positioned yourself as advantageously as you are likely to. If you keep dodging like this, you're likely to run out of mystical power, and to run your body ragged—or, worse, your luck might run out, and the titanic strength of this zombified behemoth might come crashing down upon you! It's time to end this menace and leave this place.

Necromancy is typically regarded as a ‘dark’ art, and so you reason that the elven moonblade is your best bet to finish this swiftly. According to Drow legend, it was once the weapon of their fabled founding king, and before that was gifted to him by their ancestral moon goddess—a divine weapon of the hated Gods of Light, now an implement of your dark will yet still perfect for the destruction of lesser rivals in the shadows. You draw the smooth, white scimitar from its silken sheathe, slicing the makeshift blade-wrappings to ribbons in your hurry. No matter—you can worry about fashioning a new one later. For now, you have bugger worries…

>13

…Like the fact that the troll-thrall is still standing! You slashed the monstrous hulk from groin to throat as you rose and stepped out from below its bulk, and yet even as its putrid entrails spill forth and its black-green blood oozes down the broad side of your blade, it looms over you.

“Y-you…ou… fool-idi-idiot!”

The troll’s rended and exposed vocal chords vibrate imprecisely, and the giant stumbles slightly. The damage has clearly affected the precision of Hapo’s necromantic control… But not broken it, not felled the already-dead thing thing itself.

You narrowly dodge a thrust of the troll’s leg, hopping back and lashing out with your sword again. You had hoped to sever the offending appendage outright, but it is tree-trunk thick. Worse yet, you are alarmed to note that the wound is sealing behind your blade, nearly trapping it. So, too, it the gut-wound sealing shut!

“Every hatchling knows trolls heal-fast-heal!” the troll gurgles merrily on Hapo’s behalf.

You THINK you recall having heard rumours of this, though troll-hunting was never an especial focus of yours. You’d rather hoped that any such ability would end with death, but apparently it was reawakened along with its motor functions…

And like those damnedly-fast reflexes, the effect seems to have been bolstered further.

In desperation, you resort to immolating the behemoth with a blast from your fire-lung. The troll holds fast, being immune to pain, and you finally catch a blow of the club to the chest. Badly abused and now alight, it cracks and crumbles on impact, but you worry one of your ribs might have as well. You manage to tumble to your feet, just in time to see your foe come tumbling down as its gouged leg gives way.

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>>5500445
>Another 13
>Bonus for choosing a smart option, bonus for your last critical, resulting in a narrow success

The fire spreads from the collapsing husk of the troll, up the strands of Glowie’s cocoon and surrounding silk. It reaches for you with all the Necromancer’s channeled hostility, and you step back to avoid its clutches, watching the unlife leave its dull eyes until they blister and burst. Only then, certain that it is not going to rise again, do you turn to leave.

You hurry up the tunnel, and shortly rejoin Glowie and her bundled offspring. The smoke has begun to billow out behind you from the blaze filling the chamber and choking you all. You gesture for Glowie to drop lower, below the worst of it, while you wield the last of your strength and magic to deliver a power <Earth Tremor> to the stone barricade you earlier erected. The hellhound thereby crushed now tumbles down, not dead but limp with injury; you ignore it for the moment to usher the great-worm and your spawn to safety.

But that does raise a question… What shall you do about this clan of arthropod abominations? You are fond of Glowie, even in her current shape, but to all but the Novice and a select few of Jazkarmel’s Drow, she has only ever appeared in a now-defunct Reptilian disguise. She is too large for the Amulet of Disguise to work its glamour now, to say nothing of the children…

And the ‘children’ are, indeed, an entirely separate matter. Clad in fuzzy coats of hair resembling nothing so much as your own youthful red locks, before your recent transformations darkened them to a bronzey brown. That is perhaps easily excused, but the traitorous Necromancer spoke true: as they unfurl, each of them bears an elongated, toothy maw, not unlike your own handsome quasi-draconic visage, albeit with two pairs of unsettling insectoid eyes each, and the addition of venomous barbs to either side of their queerly-grinning mouths. They look at you with an expression of confusion and curiosity, and you look back upon your sprog with… Ambivalence.

“Dragon King,” Glowie hums proudly, “meet your princezzz!”

How will you explain THIS?
>Introduce Glowie as Bloodrise’s queen, and formalize your alliance and legitimize the ‘wyrm princes’ as your heirs in Bloodrise
>Acknowledge Glowie as your mate, and the ‘wyrmlings’as your bastards… But not your heirs
>Spin a similar excuse to that which you offered Hapo, admitting to heretical experimentation with sacred dragon remains, but not unauthorized and abhorrent interspecies breeding
>Pin the draconic appearance of the wyrmlings on the mysterious intervention of the Dark Gods [may have consequences, as the Gods are always listening]
>Have Glowie and the wyrmlings hang back, lurking in the shadows until such time as you arrive in Bloodrise and can secret them away
>Write-in

>>5500453
>Introduce Glowie as Bloodrise’s queen, and formalize your alliance and legitimize the ‘wyrm princes’ as your heirs in Bloodrise

fuck it
everyone's gonna know anyway from the appearance, might as well fess up

>>5500453
>Acknowledge Glowie as your mate, and the ‘wyrmlings’as your bastards… But not your heirs
However, one or some of those bastards can rise to legitimate heir. We'll see.

>>5500453
>Echo the message you preached in the drow enclave about blessings from the Gods, but claim this action as your own.

>Glowie is another scion of this Dark Alliance, a hitherto unrevealed ally in the war against the surface; your spawn reflect a solidification of that and are your heirs

I think it's important to assuage the immediate questions of whether these are terror-spawn or friends, and to callback to the insect logistics train that we've leveraged for Bloodrise so far.

>>5500475
Supporting this

>>5500453
>Have Glowie and the wyrmlings hang back, lurking in the shadows until such time as you arrive in Bloodrise and can secret them away

>>5500453
>Introduce Glowie as Bloodrise’s queen, and formalize your alliance and legitimize the ‘wyrm princes’ as your heirs in Bloodrise

Mothers of Dragons better be really fucking happy and give the Chaplain a handjob so he doesn't try to kill us

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>>5500614
>>5500594
>>5500513
>>5500475
>>5500466
>>5500461
[Hm, pretty even split. We'll leave it a bit longer. It's an important vote, so backlink your 1post IDs, if you please!]

>>5500475
I agree with this, plus I trust that our closest allies trust us enough to keep their lips shut even around Chaplain

>>5496882
This is me, using data

>>5500453
>Declare outright that she and her spawn was the product and will of the Mother of Dragons, similar to the Drowgon, and a loyal follower of the Dark Gods
I mean, it’s not wrong. We don’t have to state that sired her young, and we will allow them territory in the kingdom, particularly whatever is liberated from Hapo.

>>5500453
>Spin a similar excuse to that which you offered Hapo, admitting to heretical experimentation with sacred dragon remains, but not unauthorized and abhorrent interspecies breeding

Or


>Echo the message you preached in the drow enclave about blessings from the Gods, but claim this action as your own.

>Glowie is another scion of this Dark Alliance, a hitherto unrevealed ally in the war against the surface; your spawn reflect a solidification of that and are your heirs

We should not be declared glowie our queen or the hybrids our "heirs" until we have an actually secure recognized political position amongst serpent kind. Doing so now would put our leadership of bloodrise in jeopardy.

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>>5500782
>>5500824
>>5500895
>>5500614
>>5500594
>>5500513
>>5500475
>>5500466
>>5500461
[Alright, locked and writing!]

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>>5500930
You explain your compromise gently to Glowie, but you can still tell that it upsets her. She doesn’t object it or rage against it—she simply deflates, and her happy humming stops.

“You do not like uzzz?” she asks. “You are… Azzhamed of uzzz?”

You shake your head. That’s not it—even if your sons are peculiar, a part of you HOPES that one among this clitch will rise to such station as to be your heir-in-truth. When your position is secure, perhaps one of these… Hatchling… Can inherit your legacy. It’s just that the last thing you need right now is the risk of having your sovereignty or leadership questioned. After all…

>>5500243
…You think you have pieced out Hapo the Necormancer’s dastardly plot, and it is a truly terrifying proposition which will require all available lizardmanpower to overcome. You were unable to glean any details about the sinister little saboteur’s whereabouts, but he gave away enough in his braggadocious ramblings to give away his master plan: with pilfered knowledge, he seeks to resurrect not just a hatchling, nor even some other lesser dragonspawn perished at the twilight of the last Age of Scales. No, he plans to resurrect a the Red Dragon King of Bloodrise himself!

Even thinking about this possibility causes your heart to hammer with instinctive fear, as if griped by a shadow of that demigodly Fearful Presence. This distant ancestor of yours was LEGEND, practically the epitome of Dragonkind: a direct creation of the gods, motherless and fatherless, born of primeval power. It is said that by the time of his death, his wingspan could create an eclipse over Bloodrise, that he breath was like a volcanic eruption, and that when he reared his head he was the tallest peak in all the mountains. That Hapo could even ATTEMPT to awaken such a sleeping giant, and that he would DARE to attempt to enslave or recombine that Great One with his own pathetic self… It horrified you on ground religious and tactical alike, and on an instinctive level that no amount of willpower can overcome.

If he could do this thing, Hapo the Necromancer would be INDISPUTABLE lord of the Bloodrise Mountains, and the TRUE prophet of a new Age of Darkness besides.

(CAN it be done?! Surely he is simply overestimating himself, or bluffing, or you are mistaken in his intent…)

You gulp down your fear, and gently pay Glowie’s chitin-armoured, spider-fingers hand to assuage her wounded heart. Holding her hand the whole way would be a step too far, but you clasp it until you enter sight of the others—your allies—and behold their fate.

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>>5500985
>>5497311

>16 & 15 for allies
>14 for adversaries and hazards

You see that your allies have squeaked out a victory upon your return, but clearly it was a hard-fought won. You count nearly a dozen elven corpses upon the ground. Some of them are butchered so badly that it is clear that they rose from the dead and were, out of necessity, put down a second time. A few skulking demon-shades hover sheepishly around the site of the battle, looking for souls to devour or bodies to possess, but none dare draw close…

>13 for leadership

…For the Lightning Elemental still crackles with directionless fury, its storm striking friend and foe alike as it flits about the mostly-deserted battlefield and menaces any who approach. By the look of it, many of the destroyed undead are its doing… But you would also wager that a few of the fallen Drow were slain by your energetic ally as well, without having turned. Those who remain have taken shelter behind a rudimentary magical barrier (and somewhat more effective shadow-cloak) erected by Jazkarmel.

“About time you got here!” shouts Azonia the Duelist, before ducking a hurled bolt of electricity.

“It can’t tell friend from foe, “ acknowledges Hamaraska, the Centipede Lancer; they are soothing petting their namesake mount, but they pause when they take in your companions.

“…What are those?” the Lancer questions, voice clam but eyebrows flying up their forehead in obvious shock.

“You brought her HERE?! NOW?!” the Novice demands, then her own expression shifts as she sees the furry hangers-on crawling across Glowie’s abdomen. “Are those…?”

“Nevermind,” you hiss in Dark Elven, so all may understand. “They are friends. I will explain later.”

Then, you turn to the Lightning Elemental, and clear your throat. Grabbing its attention, you raise the Ring fo Elemental Command which once bound it, project all your Dragon King confidence, and issue a roar of command. It takes a moment—an eternal moment of hesitation, when you fear you may need to subjugate it by force—by the energy-form collapses into a single spark of ball-lightning and sinks down to the floor in grudging submission. In underground thunderstorm abates, and your allies emerge.

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>>5500986
“Drow of Wevenore, Reptilians of the Master Race…”

You pause, recalling scrawny Ivno and stout, beardless Karz Throat-singer.

“…Kobolds and Duergar of Bloodrise… I would like you all to meet the newest allies in our Dark Crusade against the surface scum and their false ‘gods’ of light. This is the Glow-Worm Queen, scion of the Mother of Dragons herself… And as evidence, behold her wyrmlings, divinely-inspired dragonSPAWN!”

It is a lie by omission, strengthened by the implication of deeper truths. You cannot acknowledge your family as your own flesh-and-blood, not without acknowledging crimes carnal and alchemical which could jeopardize your reputation with the hardliners and elites in your entourage. You travel not just with Degenerates and lowborn Reptilians, but other Serpent Priests and highly-placed Silkscale traders—those whose loyalty is less personal and more circumstantial.

Still, Glowie IS the ‘granddaughter’ of a Dark God, a queen of a burgeoning empire, an ally whose kin have long secretly extended and strengthened your supply chains, and her spawn ARE the product of divinely-ordained infusion of dragonblood. They DESERVE to be recognized as worthy, respectable friends, members of your Dark Alliance… Even if the particulars of WHY Glowie was created, and HOW her lineage became draconic, must remain obscure.

(At least the Novice Fleshweaver does not spill the secret, despite clear anxiety)

“This whole trip keeps getting weirder and weirder,” the Duelist murmurs, sheathing her dual shortswords.

“Fascinating,” the Centipede Lancer says admiringly, precipitating clicks and chitters from Honemdyn the Centipede which you cannot help but interpret as jealousy.

“Yes, well, thisss isss all very heart-warming,” the Novice sneers, placing her hands on her ample hips and narrowing her eyes and speaking in her heavily-accented elventongue, “but let uss not forget that we were jussst attacked by a horde of undead!”

“AND our own elemental,” the Duelist reminds everyone.

“And demons,” Olu the Archer adds, bow still at the ready, watching the unclean spirits still watching from the shadows.

“I will explain later,” you assure them all.

You will, too… Though different members of the party will get subtly different explanations. For now, it’s time to clean up and regroup.

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>>5500987
What will you do about the lightning elemental?
>It heeled when you admonished it, and is quiet now—problem solved
>It is too dangerous to retain the services of such a deadly wildcard—dismiss and banish it
>Attempt, with the assistance of Karz Throat-singer and his new tutor, to bind it once more to your ring

What of the demons?
>They are weak and frightened—chase them off, and be done with them
>They are useful pawns to turn against their former master—attempt to use Olu and the Novice’s limited understanding of occultism to bind some of them to your service
>Make a pact with the mightiest among them for information or power [specify what you offer, and what you want in return]
>The shoggoth-sword rumbles ravenously on your hip, hungering for their essence… perhaps you should feed it?

>>5500988
>It heeled when you admonished it, and is quiet now—problem solved
I like it- so long as it follows our commands (and mostly avoids friendly fire), I find with keeping him out.

>They are useful pawns to turn against their former master—attempt to use Olu and the Novice’s limited understanding of occultism to bind some of them to your service
>Make a pact with the mightiest among them for information or power [Service, in exchange for not getting eaten by our sword]
>The shoggoth-sword rumbles ravenously on your hip, hungering for their essence… perhaps you should feed it with those who fail to submit?
Gunship diplomacy.

>>5500996
>I’m* fine* with keeping him out

>>5500988
>It heeled when you admonished it, and is quiet now—problem solved
>The shoggoth-sword rumbles ravenously on your hip, hungering for their essence… perhaps you should feed it?

No, no occultism, we are death's homie.

>>5500988
>elemental problem solved for now

>FEED SHOGSORD

>>5500988
>It heeled when you admonished it, and is quiet now—problem solved
Maybe we can get a round of light-hound training once home? Far from everyone else?

>The shoggoth-sword rumbles ravenously on your hip, hungering for their essence… perhaps you should feed it?*
Let's see how it interract

>>5500996
Support, the sooner we put an end to Hapo the better off we all are

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Rolled 16, 12, 18, 6, 5, 20, 13, 17 = 107 (8d20)

>>5500996
>>5501102
>>5501108
>>5501160
>>5501281
You call the elemental to your side and, with only a moment’s hesitation, it obeys. If it will heel like a hound, you see no trouble in continuing its ‘domestication’… Though you make a mental note to watch it more warily. The elemental is clearly half-tamed at best, at least for the time being.

The demons, though… They are a different matter entirely. You will have no truck with these inferior darknesses, as a servant of the true sovereigns of shadow, the Dark Gods Below and Beyond. And the shoggoth-sword… Its reaction, verging on a return of consciousness, intrigues you. You clumsily slide the moonblade into your belt, briefly conscious of the silent stares of those Drow allies who had not yet been made aware that this legendary artefact was in your possession. In its stead, you draw the dagger-sized aberration-blade, and with the aid of the Throat-singer’s humming and the flickering embers of your remaining mana, you will it to grow and change.

The shoggoth-sword expands horizontally and especially vertically, lengthening and growing eyes, jutting spikes and semi-flexible tendrils. It is these last additions, unusual for the blade since its acquisition, which most interest you and afear the spectral devil-remnants. The demons begin to flee, but you pursue them. Following your lead, Jazkarmel and the Novice wield their own magicks to head the demons off, while Olu surprises you with some Southern Human chant which seems to slow and stymie their departure. You wave the shoggoth-sword back and forth, like one might swing a broom or brush to collect cobwebs; the tentacles reach out and grab one demon after another, pulling their barely-perceptible shades towards toothy apertures which form across its flat.

One by one, the demons are devoured, given no time to retreat to their summoner and master. For its part, the shoggoth-blade seems… Exhilarated. It’s tendrils and mouths do not immediately recede, but rather wave about and gnash, eyes blinking and rolling in anger or ecstasy unknown. It broadens, thickens, and its cutting edge grows toothier, while its blackish-grey hue shifts subtly towards a crimson colouration.

“Throat-singer, cease your humming,” you command. “Novice Fleshweaver, assist me in subduing this thing!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be feeding the comatose aberration demons if you don’t want it to grow more powerful or awaken?” the Novice snipes back.

Both obey, though, and together with Jazkarmel and the Wevenore Ambassador, you work a series of magic in a power-amplifying mages’ circle—an ancient rite to tame the sword…

>>5501631
>20: sword control strengthened, demon-sword characteristics acquired
By the end of the ritual, you are left truly and utterly depleted of mana, to the point that Hamaraska, Azonia, and Olu must catch you to prevent you tumbling into unconsciousness. The cursed blade, however, ceases its tumult and gradually shrinks and recedes to its former knife-like dimensions. Its eye slowly glazes over, and then slides shut, as the unsettling organic implement settles down to ‘slumber’ once more. The reddish colouration remains.

“Good,” you breathe, and begin to force yourself to your feet. “We must leave, now. The Necromancer who did all this is till out there, even now… And the sooner we put an end to him, the better off we all are.”

“Easy there, Dragon,” Azonia the Duelist admonishes you, patting your head with irritating condescension. “You’re in no shape to get moving again right away.”

“I do not recall asking you—HHHSSSS!”

Your objection turns to a hiss of pain as the buxmon swordswoman saps your ribcage. Yep, definitely a broken rib.

“Let your not-girlfriend patch you up,” the Duelist says, with a wink at the Novice (who, for her part, rears her head back upon her long and elegant neck as if slapped. “Then we can move.”

“Elf is right,” Ivno the Kobold chimes in, unexpectedly, inferring the Drow’s advice from context even as he does not speak their tongue. “I am worried also-too about kobolds in Bloodrise, but you are hurt-wounded, tired-done. I think… Need to rest, Dragon King.”

It’s rare for your kobold counsellor to speak without being spoken for, let alone to contradict you. You look around, and see quite a few expressions of concern around you. Even the Novice’s sour expression softens slightly, and she sighs.

“It IS easier to heal you when you are not constantly moving,” she notes. “Besides, if you get yourself killed by the kobold YOU made a mortal enemy and who YOU let get away with all those books…”

She sniffs, looking away.

“You are no good to me dead,” she admits, “and if you die, we are all doomed. I… We need you alive.”

What will you do?
>Accept the judgement of the others, and remain at the camp while you heal fully [will take a few days, Hapo will continue moving]
>Press on now—the Novice can heal you each evening of your trip, but you can waste no further time
>Send messengers ahead, to announce your imminent return and assess what has been going on in Bloodrise (as well as to warn your entourage of Hapo’s likely plans)
>This is all getting out of hand… If your suspicions are correct, you will need the help of the Serpent Priesthood proper, and so you will send messengers to THEM, along your glow-worm supply chain
>Write-in

>>5501639
Compromise :
>Stop here for today, but press on starting tomorrow

>>5501642
Support

>>5501639
>Send messengers ahead, to announce your imminent return and assess what has been going on in Bloodrise (as well as to warn your entourage of Hapo’s likely plans)

we can get our unruly minions under control with some rest time

>>5501639
>Send messengers ahead, to announce your imminent return and assess what has been going on in Bloodrise (as well as to warn your entourage of Hapo’s likely plans)

>Press on now—the Novice can heal you each evening of your trip, but you can waste no further time

>>5501639
>Stop here for today, but press on starting tomorrow

>Send messengers ahead

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>>5501824
>>5501729
>>5501666
>>5501656
>>5501642
You sigh, and shake your head… But how can you object to so many friends and vassals all worried for your safety? You wish to push on, but it would be foolhardy to pretend they have no valid point. When you embraced community, friendship, love, you embraced a certain moral and emotional responsibility. You won’t abdicate it now.

“We will remain here for the next twenty-four hours,” you agree. “After that… We will see, but I think we should move on.”

Hamaraska and Ivno matching sighs of relief, while Azonia looks duly smug and the Novice studiously affects a neutral expression, as if she feels nothing at all; you can tell by her relieved body language that this is not, in fact, the case.

“You’re welcome to stay here, obviously,” Princess Jazkarmel confirms, “but… I’m not sure we’ll have much appetite for song, dance, or dueling. We may not be able to offer you many amenities, either…”

You follow her sweeping gaze over the field of fallen corpses, Drow and otherwise, and the ruined tents and other temporary shelters. By your rough estimate, only half the encamped Drow still live, and only the largest or most out-of-the-way structures remain standing.

“We will need to send word back,” the Wevenore Ambassdor mutters.

“I will send a runner,” Jazkarmel confirms grimly. “We’ll need reinforcements.”

This is a wise idea, by your reckoning, and so you do likewise: you send Ivno the Kobold and Olu the Archer ahead, lest you be waylaid; the two of them can travel much more swiftly than a larger force, besides, and you hope that they will reach Bloodrise and relay your return to your lieutenants there… And a warning of what the Necromancer has planned.

You spend the next few hours in one of the few remaining elven tents—not alone, but in the company of only the Novice Fleshweaver and her namesake, the ‘Junior Novice’ whom her fell arts have transformed from a dog-headed subterranean ghoul into some sort of psionic-draconic experiment. The bizarre chimera guards the door, while the Novice unceremoniously strips away your silk swathes and leather-and-chitin elf-armour to reveal your bruised and battered body.

“Why is it all warriors of your ilk rely on healing arts such as mine as a crutch?” she tuts.

She slathers an oily balm over her fine-clawed hands, and you shiver slightly with a not-altogether-wholesome anticipation.

“We must keep YOUR ilk honest somehow,” you mock in exchange.

She hisses, and thwaps your rear with her tail. You rattle with laughter, and then suppress a half-pained, half-appreciative moan as icy-hot pleasure and deep pain radiate out from where she touches you.

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>>5501916
The Serpent Priestess works over each tight and tried muscle group, before extracting a pigmented form of the balm and applying it in arcane shapes and sigils to the worst-injured areas, and beginning to mutter the verbal components of a spell to speed your natural healing processes.

“This won’t instantaneously heal you,” she admonishes. “You are an ignorant and belligerent creature, to be traveling through hostile terrain before being fully mended.”

“I believe in your good works,” you say coolly.

“Well for my part,” she snaps, “I believe you will get yourself killed, all for… What? Sentimentality, martyrdom? Your half-mammal brain is malfunctioning.”

“Quarter-mammal,” you correct cheekily.

Her tail smacks you again, and you fall silent, simply enjoying her lingering touch. Her hands are fine, dexterous, but soft, untroubled by the toil of hard labour or melee combat. They are the hands of a noblewoman, an artist. They press and probe with the almost-mechanical precision of the cold-blooded, and with the smoothness of a slithering snake, such that even an elf's grace could never match.

“You are fondling more than strictly necessary,” you note quietly after a time.

“I am merely appraising my ‘good work’ in making a proper Dragonborn of you,” she mutters, and ceases, beginning to clean her claws in a nearby basin, made of stolen bronze from the surface and crafted in Northern Human style.

“Right,” you tease.

“Do not be obscene,” she reports, “I am not your loveBUG. I am not even in heat. If you must leer, go find your mate. I am sure the worm will be receptive to your exhausting innuendos.”

“Jealous?” you mock.

“Hardly,” she spits.

You DO feel better, though. Your Fleshweaver may be a technical ‘novice’ of her craft, but she is a prodigy, and she DOES perform rather remarkable works of fleshweaving and woundknitting. You are feeling about up to doing something productive with the remainder of your time here, prior to torpor.

What will you do? [choose no more than two]
>Speak with Glowie, and get to know your peculiar wyrmling offspring—it ahs been too longer since you have seen her alone, and there is MUCH to catch up on and discuss
>Join Jazkarmel and the Ambassador to discuss the next move of your Dark Alliance, and how to proceed against this mutual menace of the Necromancer
>It has been a while since you last communed with the Dark Gods… And you have questions for them [specify any particular gods, and any particular requests or inquiries]
>Train in martial combat with Azonia, to keep yourself limber and your skills sharp
>Work with the Throat-singer to better understand and work with the shoggoth-sword’s recent changes
>Broach the subject of your offspring with the Novice… And the subject of her, ah, heat cycle, and your particular needs in that regard
>Write-in

>>5501920
>Work with the Throat-singer to better understand and work with the shoggoth-sword’s recent changes
>Broach the subject of your offspring with the Novice… And the subject of her, ah, heat cycle, and your particular needs in that regard

>>5501920
>Join Jazkarmel and the Ambassador to discuss the next move of your Dark Alliance, and how to proceed against this mutual menace of the Necromancer
>Train in martial combat with Azonia, to keep yourself limber and your skills sharp
We can’t afford to be idle.

>>5501920
>Speak with Glowie, and get to know your peculiar wyrmling offspring—it ahs been too longer since you have seen her alone, and there is MUCH to catch up on and discuss

>Join Jazkarmel and the Ambassador to discuss the next move of your Dark Alliance, and how to proceed against this mutual menace of the Necromancer

Relationship + war council sound good

We shouldn’t be doing combat training while healing

>>5501920
>Speak with Glowie, and get to know your peculiar wyrmling offspring—it ahs been too longer since you have seen her alone, and there is MUCH to catch up on and discuss

>Join Jazkarmel and the Ambassador to discuss the next move of your Dark Alliance, and how to proceed against this mutual menace of the Necromancer

>>5501920
>>Speak with Glowie, and get to know your peculiar wyrmling offspring—it ahs been too longer since you have seen her alone, and there is MUCH to catch up on and discuss
>It has been a while since you last communed with the Dark Gods… And you have questions for them [specify any particular gods, and any particular requests or inquiries]
Flying serpent, ask for paladinship. Or the whole pantheon, I neither know nor care, we'll face strong foe, we need power-up

>5501920
>>Speak with Glowie, and get to know your peculiar wyrmling offspring—it has been too long since you have seen her alone, and there is MUCH to catch up on and discuss

>Join Jazkarmel and the Ambassador to discuss the next move of your Dark Alliance, and how to proceed against this mutual menace of the Necromancer

Need to mend things with Glowie, I think, and get 100% clear on how much she does mean to us, even if she is a bit.. icky to the Dragonborn.

>>5502208
>>5502131
>>5501998
>>5501950
>>5501946
>>5501944
Your first duty is to your people and your allies. The Drow have suffered heinously for your enemy’s anger, and they deserve an explanation. You will give them one.

“A kobold did this?” the Wevenore Ambassador—Yazzaer, you think his name was—asks incredulously.

You nod, and explain: “Hapo, a kobold occultist and necromancer, wielding old relics of my people… Of Bloodrise’s last Dragon King.”

“That place has had other Dragon Kings?” Jazkarmel asks, surprised. “ I didn’t think anyone had occupied the mountains properly since…”

You all go quiet. The Princess works out your meaning, as the Ambassador internalizes it.

“He’s wielding old magic, then,” the Ambassador whispers.

“No wonder he was able to raise so many undead, then,” Jazkarmel sighs, rubbing her forehead.

“And that’s not all,” you add. “It is not just the NUMBER of undead which he can animate, or the demons he can summon, which worries me. It’s… Quality, not quantity.”

You tell these two elven nobles first of the troll which you battled—and the hellhounds before—while they were dealing with the main body. Then, once they understand the stakes, you tell them of Hapo’s sinister promise: to resurrect something terrible, powerful, draconic.

“That… That can’t be right,” Jazkarmel protests. “What’s even left of the Red Dragon? It was slain, what, hundreds of years ago? A thousand?”

“Pureblooded dragons are demigods,” you explain, thinking to the recovered eggs, the dead hatchlings which fuel the Novice’s dragonblood experiments. “They preserve remarkably well across the aeons, if not exposed to sun, wind, or rain.”

“But… The humans and dwarves picked it clean, for materials!”

“It doesn’t matter,” the Ambassador interrupts. “This ‘Hapo’ has proven his ability. Whether he means to resurrect THE Red Dragon or something else of comparable size and strength… We should be concerned.

>>5502584

“We need to be ready,” Jazkarmel agrees. “We should request a full deployment, all the houses.”

“Just after a coronation?” the Ambassador scoffs. “With everyelf still divided against the other? With accusations of…”

He trails off, eyes flitting to you.

“…The King cannot demand we send every elfman and elfmaid to serve in a war between, ah, dragons.”

You barrow your eyes.

“The Necromancer struck your forces already,” you point out.

“To get to you,” the Ambassador points out, palms up, body language and tone appeasing. “He is your enemy. What grievance does he have with the Drow?”

“WE have grievance with HIM!” Jazkarmel nearly screams.

“We do,” the Ambassador agrees, “but if we deploy all our forces… Who will defend Wevenore? Right now, by what King Theral says, there is little danger of that… But if Drow deploy to fight this necromancer, he will target the City of Drow directly.”

“So we do nothing?” Jazkarmel asks, arms crossed. “That’s stupid.”

“That,” the Ambassador says, looking at you with apology in his eyes, “is politics.”

What will you do to earn the aid of the Drow?
>Promise them rewards, from Hapo’s hoard or from your own stores of mineral wealth
>Offer to support King Solinsyr’s dream of ‘normalized’ trade relations with the surface realms
>Threaten to attack their city next, if they make you face this threat alone
>Try to convince them that Hapo ill come for them next, anyway [what argument will you use?]
>Forget this—any Drow who wish to join you as freelance mercenaries, such as the Duelist or Centipede Lancer, or the ‘drowgons’—they may do so, but you need no others
>Write-in

>>5502586
>Try to convince them that Hapo ill come for them next, anyway [If Hapo revives the Red Dragon, he will come after all the Underdark, and he shall strike down you as he did the Bugbears. He doesn’t give a shit if you think he has no quarrel with the Drow- he WILL come after you next. Plus, what will the Surface folk think, if the Red Dragon returns to terrorize them and they learn that the Drow simply let it happen?]
Like shit dude, he’s invading all the Underdark already, he ain’t gonna stop at the Drow when he gets Big Red back from the dead. Plus, if the Surfacedwellers get wind of the Drow’s inaction against this terror, that… is simply politics.

>>5502660
Supporting this, plus:

>I am a Copper Dragon in the making. I may not be kind all the time, but I have dealt with your people fairly. Do you think a Dracolich will treat you and yours as anything other than toys to torture and then consume?

>>5502586
>Promise them rewards, from Hapo’s hoard or from your own stores of mineral wealth

>>5502660
>>5502692
Supporting these two

>>5502660
>>5502692
Support

>>5502660
>>5502692
>>5502738
>>5502742
>>5502820
“If the Necromancer is really doing what I believe he is doing, King Theral will not need to worry about anyone’s opinion of him for much longer,” you point out. “Your entire civilization will be scoured from these caverns, flushed out with fire.”

The Ambassador looks incensed by this, but you raise a hand placatingly and he shuts his mouth.

“It is not a threat,” you clarify. “It is a prediction. Look around you—there are not just kobolds here, not just elves… There are bugbears, dwarves, ghouls… The troll I fought.”

“I think I see a few orcs, too,” Jazkarmel notes, with forced playfulness in her tone, attempting to lighten the mood.

“The Necromancer is harvesting the dead of the underdark to build his army. Your people are just war materials for him. He doesn’t CARE if you have no quarrel with him—it isn’t personal, nor political. It is the way of necromancers, inevitably, to manufacture death when nature fails to provide them enough footsoldiers on its own.”

“Then we hide,” the Ambassador suggests, affecting calm though his pointed ears twitch with nervous energy and his dark knuckles whiten somewhat with tension. “Wait him out, until he is… Done.”

You try not to take offence at the implication that the new Drow King would abandon your people, let them die. You know the Ambassador speaks from fear, is simply voicing his desperation aloud. Instea,d you say:

“He knows you are down there, somewhere. Do you really think that you can hide all of Wevenore from him?”

The Ambassador bites his lip.

“What about the surface-dwellers, then?” you press. “They will learn of you, if his army comes marching out the darkness, with dark-skinned elven corpses in their ranks. They will rally against him, flood these tunnels, and when they find you—conquered, or cowering—do you think they will have pity? Mercy? Understanding?”


Jazkarmel shakes her head, and speaks up in your favour: “We HAVE to end this threat now, or Solinsyr’s reign is going to be a LONG, HARSH winter. We’re expanding, opening up… Even if HALF of what Theral says is true, hiding away will mean going back to the way things were, or worse. We’ll be more isolated than ever.”

“These grim predictions,” the Ambassador replies, “why SHOULD we believe even half of them? This is just a kobold—one of YOUR servants, King Theral. Forgive me for saying it, but it seems like you’re making excuses to drag us into an internal issue.”

Now THAT rankles you.

“I may not be kind all the time, but I have dealt with your people fairly,” you answer. “I sincerely doubt Hapo will do the same, if my ‘internal’ issue remains unaddressed.”

The three of you are quiet for a time.

“I will… Pass along your words to the King of Elves,” the Ambassador whispers. “The decision is his.”

“Of course,” you say. “Now excuse me. I have other business.”

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>>5502907

Your next meeting is a more pleasant one, and long overdue: finally, you meet with your hatchlings, and reunite with their mother (and one of your first and closest true companions) Glowie, While technically you were acquainted with the new family earlier, the circumstances were, put charitably, less-than-conducive to any true bonding, with subsequent interaction hampered by your decision to hide your relationship to them.

“You came!” Glowie buzzes happily upon your arrival, apparently surprised—she must have still been concerned from your earlier distancing of yourself from she and her young in public.

“Of course,” you assure her.

She has seemingly self-segregated herself and the hatchlings from the rest of the camp. While Drow are more comfortable among huge invertebrates than most races, this does seem wise—the survivors are on-edge now, and you heard tell that one of your wriggling offspring was caught attempting to feed upon the dead.

“They’re hungry,” Glowie explains, more amused than apologetic when you bring it up. “They are juzzzt BURNING the bodiezz, anyway. It’zz a wazzte of protein, and the young onezzz haven’t eaten zzinze before the attack.”

You frown a little at that. You can hardly blame the dark elves, whose attentions are necessarily elsewhere and whose stores of food and ability to forage for more have been shaken. Still, a newborn requires ample nourishment, and judging by Glowie’s own appetite when you have camped with her in the past, this is doubly true for a great-worm.

You DO note that the furry grub-things are more mobile and self-sufficient than you would expect of a newly-hatched Reptilian, who (you are told) are usually half-blind, mewling things requiring a great deal of assistance for their first two weeks of life. Your sons, by contrast, require constant wrangling by Glowie to prevent them from wandering off to hunt and explore. They have a curious gait, resembling the side-to-side slithering of a viper but notably wobblier; when Glowie picks one up, you see the kicking of eight stubby legs amidst their ample coating of hair, each of which ends in a small, two-pronged ‘paw’ with curling claws, not unlike that of a great spider. They seem to travel as quickly vertically as horizontally in this way, and to eagerly seize up anything that appears as if it might be edible in their crocodilian jaws.

“Pleazze hold thizz one, my king,” Glowie says with palpable exasperation, handing you a squirming bundle as she rises to retrieve another who is angrily inchworming after one of the Drow’s domesticated beetles with murderous intent.

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>>5502914
You look down into the unblinking, domed eyes of your spawn. It—he—looks back at you with a crooked perpetual smile. Curiously, you sons seem to recognize you by some unknown mechanism—they attempted to attack Ivno earlier, seeing him as viable prey, but the only bites they deliver you are gentle, playful. Since then, you have wondered how this was—they seem scarcely more intelligent than animals at this stage of development, so it seems unlikely Glowie could have ‘explained’ their paternity. She scarcely seems to have any control over them at all.

“I am zzorry,” she says when you bring this up. “I wazz not like thizz when I hatched… None of my zizzterzz were, either. I think that it izz becuzze they are malezz-warriorzzz, like their father.”

You wonder if the dragonblood might play a role, as well. No dragon hatchling ahs been seen in centuries, but what you have read of them is that they are rapid to develop physically and mentally, and especially aggressive in early stages of their life.

“Well, perhaps you’ll get some respite when they sleep?” you suggest hopefully.

Glowie looks at you in silence for a moment, then makes a hissing sound that, after a moment, you realize is a sigh.

“They zzleep for ten minutezzz at a time, a few timezzz a day,” she explains. “Never more than two of them at a time.”

“…Ah.”

You feel a little bad for the overworked worm-woman, but then this IS what she wanted -- and very enthusiastically, as you recall.

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>>5502918
You inquire after her time at the camp, and Glowie confirms she (and the young) have been well-treated. She recounts that her nursemaids were quite kind to her, though they left the chamber out of necessity after the hatchlings attacked one of them and attempted to devour her.

“Zhe wazzz fine, mozztly,” Glowie reassures you.

“Well, they’re both dead now,” you inform her.

“Zzad,” Glowie acknowledges, without any real emotion to her half-psionic ‘voice’. “They were good zzervantzz.”

Glowie has never been much of a conversationalist, and so the two of you shortly lapse into a comfortable silence. Afforded privacy, you allow her to lean the lighter and nimbler forward segments of her body against you, and to cling to your arm for a time. It is strange now, with her great and undulating bulk trailing behind the two of you, but it brings back happy memories of your early travels. This is made all the more familiar when, in an effort to placate the wyrmlings, she hums one of her vibrating worm-songs. This seems to have a calming effect, and they cluster around the two of you, for a time, wobbling and swaying in that curious way of her race.


What will you do about your hungry and energetic young?
>Try to negotiate for them to feast upon some of the dead—maybe just the bugbears and others for now?
>Seek Hamaraska’s aid in wrangling them—the Centipede Lancer seems to have a way with elongated arthropods
>Take charge yourself—they ARE your sons, and while Reptilians of any station rarely raise their own young, you are confident you can impose some discipline on these unruly young ones
>Leave Glowie to it—that’s what females do, right? She’ll figure it out
>Write-in

Was there anything else you wished to discuss with Glowie?
>Plan where she can start her nest, and where it will be in relation to your own kingdom
>Ask more about your sons [like what?]
>Request her aid in the upcoming hunt for the necromancer
>Explain about your new relationship with the Novice, lest she find out another way and become... Upset
>Something else [what?]
>No, you just wanted to make sure they were all doing well

>>5502920
>Take charge yourself—they ARE your sons, and while Reptilians of any station rarely raise their own young, you are confident you can impose some discipline on these unruly young ones

Bonding time!

>Ask more about your sons [What are their names? Does any one of them stand out more than the others?]

>Plan where she can start her nest, and where it will be in relation to your own kingdom

>>5502920
>Write-in
> Ask Karz’s to use his new found expanded bug/reptilian control song to calm down and pacify your glowbug drake sons.


>Plan where she can start her nest, and where it will be in relation to your own kingdom
>-Ask her too move into the abandoned human village we burned as that place had plentiful hunting game.
>-See if glowie could convince her mom to move there with her as well instead of overhunting near the reptilian northern base. Since their is protection in numbers.

The big problem we have is we can't have any of our drow allies or kobald servants guard glowie or our sons since, they'll try to eat them. We also cant keep them near us since we and the drow don't have that much excess food, and we can't let them hunt freely in the underdark either since hapo's forces are lurking.

The safest place for them is the burned and abandoned surface ruin near blood rise, but it would be even safer for glowie and her sons if she also had her grandmother and her massive glowie worm pack with her. Glowie also seems lonely anyway, but we can't spend that much time with her since we have to focus on beating hapo.

>>5502920
>Seek Hamaraska’s aid in wrangling them—the Centipede Lancer seems to have a way with elongated arthropods
We should let glowie rest, Ham is bro and good with bugs that eat meat
>Explain about your new relationship with the Novice, lest she find out another way and become... Upset
I really doubt Glowie will be upset by this just because of the fact we already know that dragons have harems, as well as the fact that bug queens usually get bred by quite a few different other males to make their colonies within real ants and bee species, but better safe then sorry
Followed by
>Ask more about your sons [like what?]
More about them in general, as reptilians I doubt were naming them and im sure itd be equally as weird, but maybe as a group what are they called, do they show any attributes or desires that she can tell us about we cant understand because of the language barrier yet? I wanna get to know our boys a little without subverting both of our cultural norms, plus I think having Ham as babysitter/mentor for the wyrmlings would be badass, the real ambassadors of bloodrise, sons of drow, bug , and dragon

>>5502920
>>Take charge yourself—they ARE your sons, and while Reptilians of any station rarely raise their own young, you are confident you can impose some discipline on these unruly young ones
Not deadbeat father antipalading quest under my watch.
However,
>Seek Hamaraska’s aid in wrangling them—the Centipede Lancer seems to have a way with elongated arthropods
'Cause parenting is extra hard the first month and you should not feel ashamed asking from help from your support network - especially when you have chores such as cleaning the house, grocery runs, cleansing a necromancer infestation.

>>Ask more about your sons [Names, personality, any concerned related to the time Glowie was hurt in battle]
>Introduce them to the Novice (she will be a second mom to them and she saved their lives already)
>>Plan where she can start her nest, and where it will be in relation to your own kingdom

>>5502920
>Take charge yourself—they ARE your sons, and while Reptilians of any station rarely raise their own young, you are confident you can impose some discipline on these unruly young ones.

>Ask more about your sons [like what?]
Are they developing faster than she expected? Is it normal for all of them to have survived to this stage?

>Plan where she can start her nest, and where it will be in relation to your own kingdom

>Explain about your new relationship with the Novice, lest she find out another way and become... Upset

Damn, I think that's just about every option. Sorry RQM.

>>5502920
>Try to negotiate for them to feast upon some of the dead—maybe just the bugbears and others for now?
At least the troll.
>Seek Hamaraska’s aid in wrangling them—the Centipede Lancer seems to have a way with elongated arthropods
>Take charge yourself—they ARE your sons, and while Reptilians of any station rarely raise their own young, you are confident you can impose some discipline on these unruly young ones
Also support the Kaz idea.

>Plan where she can start her nest, and where it will be in relation to your own kingdom

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>>5503312
>>5503306
>>5503103
>>5503023
>>5503016
>>5503004
[Alright, I think I got it. Snow day was called at work, so I'll start writing!]

>>5502920
>Try to negotiate for them to feast upon some of the dead—maybe just the bugbears and others for now?

nutrients to grow beeg and stronk

>Plan where she can start her nest, and where it will be in relation to your own kingdom

>Explain about your new relationship with the Novice, lest she find out another way and become... Upset

>>5503481
While it’s not exactly TRADITIONAL to take overt interest in your mate and spawn as a Reptilian of rank… Well, neither is it traditional for a male as young as you to breed, let alone without dispensation from the Fleshweavers, Chaplains, and relevant Clan-leadership. For that matter, your entire mission has become as deviant as your genetics—even if at its core, and in your heart, you remain loyal to the spirit of the Great Conspiracy and the Grand Design. What is one more alteration to tradition, at this point?

“I will find you a new servant,” you tell Glowie. “It is important that you get a chance to rest, as well.”

Glowie thrums appreciatively, her song shifting slightly in tone as she nuzzles against you. You wince a little as some of the spikier armoured points of her new carapace jab you, but… Well, it IS endearing.

“MY king izz zzo kind,” she enthuses. “Zzo good to us!”

You consider simply summoning Karz Throat-singer to deal with them. After all, the beardless bard-slave has recently come to some degree of ‘Arthropod Empathy’. However, he is also bite-sized, and his mastery of that technique is uncertain. What if he loses control? He would be swarmed and consumed rather quickly. No, he is a good fallback, but for the moment you think you have a better option…

“I will take command of this situation myself,” you declare, “and when I am busy, you will have the aid of the Drow called ‘Hamaraska’, the Centipede Lancer. He… Or she?… Is skilled is the mastery of large and carnivorous bugs. Until such time as they can be reasoned with, the Lancer should be able to help you hold them at bay.”

(And the Lancer’s combat training and centipede ally should help them avoid being eaten, as well, you reason)

Glowie chirps cheerfully and claps her hands. The almost ‘girlish’ enthusiasm is a reminder that, even as an enormous and swollen insect queen, her fundamental persona has not changed. It warms your heart a little to see, and so you decide to linger a little longer.

You take the opportunity to project your Presence, and to observe the effect it has on your sons. Almost immediately, they all raise upright, pivoting to stare at you while standing with variable steadiness upon their hindmost legs like a patrol of soldiers at attention. A few remain like this, maintaining distance as if wary of discipline or eager to escape this hold, while others lower their bodies and crawl towards you; of these, some keep their heads low, one curls up into a ball as if to hide from your paternal gaze, and one makes what you can only describe as an ‘appeal to cuteness’, beginning to wobble and frolic about and to mimic his mother’s affectionate nuzzling.

>>5503554
“Do they have—”

You begin to ask after their names, only to stop short. Your race has names, of courses, even if titles and nicknames are preferred in most settings and situations. Glowie’s, by contrast… Well, it was YOU that named Glowie that, for (as she described it) her own race is so bonded by scent and song as to require no such thing. Nor do you see much purpose in asking after the normalcy of your sons’ development—Glowie was the only fully-sapient greatworm among her collective, with her mother herself a divinely-inspired Fleshweaver creation with no precedent, and THESE wyrm princes are such bizarre admixtures of disparate bloodlines as to be utterly unlike any of their kin.

Still… Their differing reactions to your psycho-spiritual command intrigues you. Despite your best efforts, you cannot manage to physically differentiate your peculiar offspring from one another—each wyrmling looks much the same as the next to you—but they clearly have distinct personalities.

“Tell me more about our sons,” you petition her. “I’d like to know more about them.”

With motherly pride, Glowie eagerly obliges, pointing to each of them in turn as she explains their distinctions.

“The firzzt to hatch wazz zzo eager to ezzcape hizz egg cazzing that he muzzt have used up hizz energy to do zzo—he zzleeps nearly twizze azz often azz the others,” she says, pointing to one who has flopped down further away from you. “Very independent.”

You tilt your head. Is he… Asleep right now? Even under the pressure of your Fearsome Presence? It’s almost impressive, if a bit impetuous.

“Hizz brother bezzide him izz zzecond to hatch, and a very aggrezzive hunter. Zztrong and bold, like you… But he getzz himzzelf into trouble that way.”

“Also like me,” you acknowledge, eliciting an amused chirp of laughter from Glowie.

“The third and fourth are clozzely bonded… They alwayzz zzeem to be near each other, and they try to hunt together, zzleep at the zzame time, wake at the same time. The fifth zzon izz zzcrawnier than the otherzz—it izz difficult to zzee under the hair, but a mother knowzzz—and he izz always hiding and zzkulking in low placezzz. The zzixth izz the playful one, alwayzz danzzing about, zzinging back to me…”

You pat the son in question, who vibrates with bug-song in response.

“The zzeventh and eighth zzonzz zeem mozzt obedient, good and loyal zzoldierzz who lizzten to their mother, but the eighth izz alwayzz bullied by the otherzz if the zzeventh doezz not intervene. I zuzzpect they will eat him firzzt, if they are ever forzzed to make do.”

A grim prospect, but Glowie seems to take it as a matter of course.

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>>5503558
“What of the ninth to hatch?” you ask.

Glowie sighs her hissing sigh again, and pokes gently at the son who curled up upon himself. After a couple proddings, he unfurls his length slowly.

“Very lethargic, and he barely ezzcaped hizz egg,” GLowie notes. “I think he izzz weaker than the otherzz, maybe… He izz the right zzize, but doezzn’t zzing much, or go hunting. But the otherzz zzeem to avoid him… Zzo maybe he will not be eaten?”

Hm. Curious…

>Do you want to assign nicknames to any of your weird monster babies? If so, please feel free to discuss.

>>5503561
You summon Hamaraska the Lancer (and Honendym the Centipede) not long after, and explain the task before them. The placid Drow shows perhaps the first overt enthusiasm you have ever seen from them in response, surprising you with their sheer excitement.

“Really??” they ask. “I would love to help this… Queen Glowie with her young princes!”

“They are quite a handful, as I understand…” you warn.

The Lancer waves off your concerns, saying: “OF course they are. Predatory insects are naturally very dangerous to those not used to handling them, and even those that are…”

The Drow strokes Honemdym, calming the enormous centipede and distracting it from its predatory tracking of your sons. For a moment you are concerned… But then, Glowie is here also, and you have never seen the centipede eat anything without the Lancer’s explicit permission, even unattended.

“Once you get to know them, and they you, they have their own sort of… Rhythm, a way of being, and it is just like any other animal.”

“Or person,” you correct, feeling a touch defensive of your (admittedly not yet entirely intelligent) offspring.

“I was counting people—even elves—among animals,” the Lancer clarifies apologetically. “I understand these are your allied princes. I mean no disrespect to them, or their mother.”

“I like thizzz one,” Glowie chirps happily.

You and Glowie observe your new nanny at work for a time, as you gradually ease off the Fearsome Presence and allow the Lancer to assume greater control of affairs. You are pleased to see your instincts were correct, for even when your hungry sons turn to pack tactics in an attempt to slay them, the androgynous Drow scout easily avoids them, using the blunt end of their eponymous lance to batter them away and hold their venomous mouths at a safe distance. Honemdyn the Centipede readily assists as well, with its chitin proving difficult for your sons to penetrate and its flat bulk perfect for pinning them in place when they become too rowdy. When you are satisfied that all is well, you return your attention to your conversation with Glowie.

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>>5503563
“We should also discuss your nest,” you suggest.

“OUR nezzt?” Glowie hopefully corrects.

You hesitate to respond, and Glowie takes your meaning, and slumps slightly.

“It is complicated,” you apologize. “But you will not be far—that was my thinking, in asking you to come with us to Bloodrise. You and the… Wyrm princes… They will be safe.”

“We will zzee you often?” Glowie asks, as needy for you as ever.

“Yes,” you agree, patting her hand and eliciting a happy hum. “I am likely to be… Busy… But I will try my best to visit when I can.”

“Then it izz good!” Glowie agrees. “I love my king, zzo kind, zzo good to hizz family!”

You… Decide not to mention your deepened relationship with the Novice just yet.

Instead, you tell Glowie of the site you have in mind for her settlement…
>The surface, in the burned-out ruins of the human village which the kobolds once occupied
>The volcanic cavern where the Red Dragon King once kept his own hatchlings—appropriate, for his descendants and (maybe?) heirs
>The Devourer’s old territory, and the surrounding caverns, once the threat of the Necromancer is ended
>Gift them one of the dwarf fortresses you captured, to rule as vassal state

In addition, you consider offering a summons to Glowie’s mother, the Glowworm Queen… But then, she is less pliable and cooperative than her smitten daughter, and her current position near to the northern forward base of the Master Race makes Glowie’s simpler siblings ideal as a supply chain between the two locations. Conversely, the great-worms remaining there ALSO risks their discovery and conflict between your races…

Do you invite Glowie’s mother to join her closer to your kingdom?
>Yes
>No

[Write-ins are allowed!]

>>5503312
>>5503306
>>5503103
>>5503023
>>5503016
>>5503004
[Sorry for the delay and the wall of text -- I'm enjoying this interaction, so it ended up being a long one. Thank you all for indulging me.]

>>5503531
[Sorry, JUST saw this. The vote was, alas, already locked.]

>>5503561
Nicknames :
1 : Scout
2 : Hunter (Ranger class)
3 : Kin (2 halflings...)
4 : Dred (...In a trenchcoat)
5 : Skitter (Rogue)
6 : Minstrel (Bard)
7 : Simon (fighter)
8 : Richter (fighter)
9 : Mystic (Pretty sure that one will have power)

>>5503573
>The volcanic cavern where the Red Dragon King once kept his own hatchlings—appropriate, for his descendants and (maybe?) heirs
We need to end the necromancer threat before installation though, for now she'll stay with us.

>Regarding delay and wall of text
Solid update. I love our offspring. I enjoy the interraction too.

>>5503573
>The volcanic cavern where the Red Dragon King once kept his own hatchlings—appropriate, for his descendants and (maybe?) heirs

>No

This whole thing with Glowie was all in part a design by her. She'll reach out to us if she wants to come.

>Name each of your children after a great dragon of history that was close to their personality, so they always remember their heritage

>>5503617
Supporting

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>>5503617
>>5503671
[Uhhh... Alrighty, I'll see what I can do if this wins]

I don't want stupingly long name hard to remember plz

>>5503694
Nor I.

>>5503690
Honestly, that was the idea, heh. I care less about the actual names and more about the Dragonborn's investment in the fuzzy kiddos.

>>5503617
>>5503699
Backlinking, this is me mobileposting.

>>5503617
>>5503612

Did you guys forget the fact that Hapo was with us when we liberated the dragon's kings egg nest and fought the boggbari? And thus remembers it exact location and how to tunnel there?

Or the fact that Hapo himself used to be a kobold miner and thus is good at sneaking around underground.

Or the fact that he is actively hunting for hostage's to use against us. And he has the undead camouflaged bugbears to help him do it.

By comparison if bug sons are out one the surface hapo can't just dig a tunnel to ambush them, he'll have risk having his forces out in the open ground.

Also Glowie's mother glow worm pack can serve as an early waring network if he does try to do that. Since both time we went to visit her glowie's mother always knew we were coming in advance.

>The surface, in the burned-out ruins of the human village which the kobolds once occupied

>Yes

>>5503716
What part of "End necromancer threat before installation" did you forget to read?
>Inb4 "that's not a possibility"
Devourer option especially specify it

>>5503573
>>5503612
About Baby momma momma :
>No

>>5503573
>The volcanic cavern where the Red Dragon King once kept his own hatchlings—appropriate, for his descendants and (maybe?) heirs
Ancestral home rooted with deep darconic magic, perfect for the boys, and still a good midway point between the outpost and bloodrise
>Names?
Ill leave to anons for names, Id prefer them be lore friendly though so elfy dragony or buggy

This was a super fun interaction RQM
>>5503023
Is me im out running errands

>>5503573
>Do you invite Glowie’s mother to join her closer to your kingdom?
>NO
When bugs leave to make their own nests it is more likely they will fight in the future, not always but not common for them not to, plus she give me the heebie jeebies, shes a prototype spawn of the mother and has her own goals given to her my the mother that can interfere with our goals given to us by the same mother, the gods are fickle but wish for entertainment through there champions and offspring

>>5503716
>>5503573
>The surface, in the burned-out ruins of the human village which the kobolds once occupied

>Yes
+1

The surface has the best hunting ground, our kids are hyper active from being couped up in one chamber and want to stretch their bodies outside.

And even if the bug mother is "creepy" we don't know the full extent of Hapo's forces should we could use all the help we could get.

And im pretty sure some of the glowie bugs have been eating reptilians who have got themselves stuck on their webs.

So we need to try and move them to where that won't happen eventually anyway.

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Pic related was me from the last quest..

>>5503823
[This sort of backlink isn't actually very useful to purposes of identifying valid 1post IDs. It kind of needs to be backlinked to a post in the same thread, ideally one which has multiple posts, to be useful.]

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>>5503815
>>5503789
>>5503779
>>5503739
>>5503716
>>5503699
>>5503671
>>5503617
>>5503612
>>5503604
[Alright, let's give this a go...]

>>5503903
In the end, there is nowhere you can think of that would better serve as a creche for your young than the Red Dragon King’s own nursery, where you found the eggs which were used to transform yourself—and these curious little grubs—into successors to that great ancestor. And what better names to identify them by, then, than those of legendary dragons and half-dragons? Modern True Speech is highly-derived from the ancient Draconic tongue, to better fit Reptilian lips and tongues, but every good and faithful member of the Master Race knows how to pronounce at least a few of the ancient Names of Kings.

“Tudyivak,” you dub the first one, “He Who Traveled Beyond.”

“Jepvysk,” you call your second son, “He Who Hungered for Flesh.”

“Lopfivik,” you call the third, and of the fourth: “Fidiefvik. They were brothers who ruled as dreaded co-tyrants of the coastal mountains in the islands to the far west. The were called The Twin Terrors.”

“Telovvisk,” you dub the fifth, who scurries and skitters about so, “He Who Crawled from the Deep Places.”

“Noptivisk,” you decide upon for the sixth. “He Who Sang the Song of Apocalypse.”

“Sevenths on, you shall be… Tonupask,” you decide. “The Shield-Scaled, The Ironclad, The Unbreakable.”

On the eighth, bullied and defenceless, you bestow the ancient name of a half-dragon warrior, that it might inspire him to strength: “Gohjavisk.”

And the ninth… Mysterious, withdrawn, sluggish and passive without fear or timidity. You Sense something odd in that one, and so you name him thus: “Natvodask, the Unknowable Horror.”

“Share these names with no one,” you tell them, though mostly Glowie and Hamaraska, “save those whom you trust. A True Name is a powerful thing, in many ways. It is important. For others, give them only false names, titles, pseudonyms, euphemisms. Always protect and hide the True Self from adversaries and rivals.”

‘The Unknowable Horror’ tilts his head in a surprisingly-Reptilian gesture—you almost wonder if this odd child, ‘Nat’, understands you. None of your other sons give any indication that they understand their names, let alone the significance of them. Glowie, for her part, kindly humours you, but plainly thinks the ritual is somewhat silly.

“I think they are very auspicious names,” Hamaraska says. “You are kind to do so much for this ally, King Theral… As you are for taking in that ‘drowgons’ and their families.”

“Hm,” you murmur, suddenly concerned about how much the Lancer might suspect, or come to know. “How else can I count myself a proper leader of this Dark Alliance.”

The Centipede Lancer says nothing, only nodding.

For short: Tud, Jep, Lop, Fidi, Telo, Nopti, Tonu, Gohja, and Nat

>>5503940
With the wyrmlings well-in-hand, you consider the matter of their grandmother—Glowie’s forebearer, first-among-worms. Should you invite her to take up residence with your kin as well? It would have distinct advantages and disadvantages from a tactical, political, and logistical perspective… But personally, she sort of creeps you out, and you worry about the influence she could have upon her daughter. Her people were created to replace your own, after all. That you are now allied with her creator, the Mother of Dragons—even once a lover, to your lasting trauma—does not guarantee that the fickle Dark Goddess will not pit your races against one another again. No, better to secure Bloodrise more completely first.

So it is that, having waited as long as you dare and healed as much as you can, you set forth once more towards the place that you hope will be home to all your faithful followers, your friends and lovers, and your strange new relations.

What route do you follow?
>The safety of the most well-trodden path, which you have traveled many a time this last year
>The known shortcut through the old flooded-and-cursed elf-shrine, where once you faced fish-faced horrors and where you made love to Davora the Herbalist for the first time
>Use divination to guide you along a different path—one yet-untraveled, and thus hopefully off of Hapo the Necromancer’s radar and free of his ambushes

>>5503945
>The known shortcut through the old flooded-and-cursed elf-shrine, where once you faced fish-faced horrors and where you made love to Davora the Herbalist for the first time

>>5503945
>The known shortcut through the old flooded-and-cursed elf-shrine, where once you faced fish-faced horrors and where you made love to Davora the Herbalist for the first time

>>5503945
>Use divination to guide you along a different path—one yet-untraveled, and thus hopefully off of Hapo the Necromancer’s radar and free of his ambushes
adventure whoo

>>5503945
>>The known shortcut through the old flooded-and-cursed elf-shrine, where once you faced fish-faced horrors and where you made love to Davora the Herbalist for the first time

>>5503945
>The known shortcut through the old flooded-and-cursed elf-shrine, where once you faced fish-faced horrors and where you made love to Davora the Herbalist for the first time

>>5503945
>Use divination to guide you along a different path—one yet-untraveled, and thus hopefully off of Hapo the Necromancer’s radar and free of his ambushes
Adventure!

>>5504058
>>5504081
>>5504117
>>5504119
>>5504457
>>5504532
>The known shortcut through the old flooded-and-cursed elf-shrine
[Writing soon!]

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>>5505204
Whether it is unfinished business or romantic nostalgia which underlies your motivation, or perhaps simple logical expediency, you opt to take the fastest possible route to Bloodrise. You have lost too much time already—to injury, to idleness, to your enemy. You say your farewell to Jazkarmel and her scouts, thanking her for her aid and hospitality. Had Olu the Archer been here, you suspect the farewell would have lingered longer; while the Archer was sent ahead and his favoured mate shall remain here, you have spent the last day with your son’s mother and your beloved one, and now both your females shall accompany you.

The Archer is a loyal servant, deserving on such peace as you find yourself feeling… But life isn’t fair, and neither is the foe you now face.

You travel a familiar path, and you do so with the speed of a male on a mission—which, of course, you are. You are slowed by only two factors: your injury, and your company. Glowie was once surprisingly swift, though admittedly moreseo in her Reptilian disguise; now, she is easily five to ten times her previous weight, trailing yards of organic apparatus, unable to benefit from the compacting properties of the Amulet of Disguise. At least she is strong, though—stronger even than you, now, able to force her way through a cave-in which would otherwise have required you to exert yourself magically! Moreover, Hamaraska the Lancer proves a most excellent babysitter, requiring only occasional intervention by you or the Throat-singer’s Presence to tame your unruly princelings.

When you reach the spring, though, you find yourself face-to-face with that which you might well have expected—dreaded, anticipated, prepared for. The cursed spring roils with a dark energy, its calm surface belying a mystical turmoil beneath. You feel it, the Novice and Glowie feel it, the Ambassador and the other elves of your entourage feel it… Even your apprentice Throat-singer feel it. Tension fills your lungs, spreads to your hammering heart, floods your blood and sets your nerves alight like dragonfire—no, HELLfire.

When the dark shapes of piscine bipeds part the water with their looming, darkly beautiful forms, their hideous bulging-eyed faces, and their slick and shining green-black scales, none among you are surprised.

“Did you not learn your lesson last time?” you snarl.

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>>5505239
They stare, unspeaking. This is not unusual—they did not speak last time, either, when they accosted you and you fought them back, drove them into the bowels of their accursed spring with your sacred elf-sword, and chased them to the very depths beyond the world of the living. What is unusual this time is how sickly they look upon closer inspection, how flaking is their flesh and ephemeral their hold on this world. The curse, impure though it already is, has been further corrupted. Their magical aura is… Of. They are…

“The damned kobold,” the Novice interjects into your thoughts, he voice a hiss. “The Necromancer’s stench is on these things!”

She’s right. Hapo has not been idle, all these months since he abandoned and betrayed you, stole Draconic knowledge and turned it to your ruination. As you have explored the underdark and made allies, so has he—but his are pressganged, bound by dark pact and darker power, dominated and coerced in far more aggressive ways than you yourself have manipulated your minions and mammal-friends. These… Things, accursed elf-shades or embodied divine punishment, they now stare at you with a hatred that is not their own—a grudge more personal.

What will you do?
>Hold aloft your moonblade, and channel your energies into it—it is a symbol of King Endymion and the Drow’s divine ancestor, and if it bqanished them once it may yet break their spell and do so again!
>Draw the shoggoth-sword and will it to enlarge—it has feasted on demons, now let it feed on ghosts and grudges, and prove its enhanced ability with action!
>Dive into the lack—you saw something in the deep once, and if you can but seize it… Silly as it may be, you sense that it might end this threat more permanently!
>Assume <Dragonshape> and try to out-coerce their commander, dountering Hapo’s influence with your own
>Trust in your allies: Reptilian, Greatworm, Drow, and Dwarf, you will pit an army of the living and blessed against an army of the dead, damned, and dominated any day!
>You know what? Fuck THIS shit! Barrel through, and escape to the other side as swiftly as possible, and leave these sinister spectres to be a problem for another day
>Write-in

>>5505240
>Dive into the lack—you saw something in the deep once, and if you can but seize it… Silly as it may be, you sense that it might end this threat more permanently!

Speed is of the essence and I think this is the most expident option. also maybe more loot

>>5505240
>Assume <Dragonshape> and try to out-coerce their commander, dountering Hapo’s influence with your own
You follow me now.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=TjzQ8VXqJ6E

>>5505240
>>5505249
*Dive into the lake
Feck

>>5505240
>>Dive into the lack—you saw something in the deep once, and if you can but seize it… Silly as it may be, you sense that it might end this threat more permanently!

>>5505240
>Assume <Dragonshape> and try to out-coerce their commander, dountering Hapo’s influence with your own
After
>Dive into the lack—you saw something in the deep once, and if you can but seize it… Silly as it may be, you sense that it might end this threat more permanently!
Watch us drown again.

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Rolled 14, 17, 7, 3, 9, 1 = 51 (6d20)

>>5505576
>>5505497
>>5505255
>>5505249
[Alright, we're going to dive into the lack (*lake) and dounter (*counter) the influence of the Necromancer, if we can, using the Dragonshape and intimidation. Rolling, and readying to post.]

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>>5505838
You step towards the dark shapes, your movements parting the once-warm mists—now cooled, chilling, as the grave-chill of necromantic energies—which surrounds these cursed fish thing. You have cowed them before, and you’ll do so again! Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, focus your life-energies into the Novice’s amulet, and will yourself to change and transform. Your back burns with brief agony as you become once-more aware of your wings. A heaviness sets in as your skin redoubled and armours itself in thick copper scales, then a great strength wells up from within as muscles and organs bulge and shift to accommodate you.

It is a good thing you still wear this lighter elf-armour in lieu of plate, or you’d have split it like a snake outgrowing his skin. <Dragonshape IV> is truly tremendous!

“You know me, accursed-among-elves,” you snarl, in deepened voice which accompanies this increased mass, and with all the force of your amplified Fearsome Presence. “Move, or BE moved.”

>17 for Intimidation (DC increased by Hapo’s influence but decreased by Dragonshape)

You can feel the Necromancer’s will here, or a fragment of it, warring against you… But you are a Dragon, and ever closer to being a Dragon in Truth. Furthermore, though Glowie kindly rewrapped your sword in her silk, you suspect that these fish-things—especially the tallest, whom you take for the leader, seems to recognize you as its bearer. This being, whom you assume to be the warped shade of the rather regal-looking elf whom you saw when last you ‘visited’ the warm waters of the spring, shrinks back from you, parting as the mist parts. You waste no time, striding trough these stunned revenants and towards the spring.

Your last ‘visit’… Well, you refer to it euphemistically, but you nearly drowned pursuing that magical glow at the bottom of the lake. You have never been a strong swimmer, for all your other athleticism—you’ve nearly died to drowning an almost embarrassing number of times this last year. This time, though, it is not for sake of treasure or glory that you go spelunking, but to end this threat and undermine that persistent pest, Hapo. You will succeed!

You dive.

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>>5505863
>9
The spring, like its undying occupants, seems… Corrupted. The sulphuric stench of hotspring waters is amplified, filled with a rotten scene which hits your nostrils before you even hit the water. You find yoru senses staggered, sixth sense stymied…
>3
Like the mist, the spring-water has lost its warmth, trading it for a bitter cold. You are a quarter-human, but your heart is a reptile’s heart, your mammalian blood thin and cold. Your Dragonblooded firelungs and <Dragonshape> transformation preserve you against instant coma, but it is still a deep and terrible shock.

You flail your arms and legs, beat your mighty wings… But your muscles and armour are heavy, your movements sluggish, you mind still penetrated by that deep and deadly necromantic chill. You are sinking, deeper and deeper, deeper than the spring should naturally go, into blackness.

>1
You open your mouth to roar, and you find yourself drowning.

Your consciousness begins to fade away from the waking world, and into the eternal darkness of the world beyond. Is this how you are destined to die? Why is water your nemesis? You begin to take it for the touch of fate, that are the air above, the earth below and around you, and the fire inside are all your allies, it was almost INEVITABLE than one of nature’s elements should be your enemy. It has a… SORT of logic to it, and a poetry….

>Acquired: <Aquaphobia>, and <Water Weakness>, lowering your effectiveness in water and against water magic

But no… No! This is not how a Dragon King dies, not how YOU die, drowning in a spring while your followers and family look on with horror. Hapo the Necromancer will NOT rule Bloodrise! And the Green Knight… Wherever he is, you MUST face him. THAT is destiny!

You force your eyes open, and your body to move. You cats your senses about—mundane and mystical, until you find it—light! It is…

>The mystical light of that which you dove for—the heart of the spring!
[Chance to seize an artefact and end the threat of the cursed spring forever, BUT it leaves your allies undefended above]

>The light of life, love, spells being flung and Glowie’s bioluminescence
[The cursed spring’s secret remains beyond your grasp, but you will not risk losing any of your allies yet]

>>5505864
I swear to the Gods, we’ll conquer this fucking spring if it’s the last thing we do, AND learn how to fucking swim. That’s for another day though…
>The light of life, love, spells being flung and Glowie’s bioluminescence
Seriously, what the fuck were you idiots thinking?

>>5505868
Supporting

Stop fucking trying to swim anons

>>5505864
>The light of life, love, spells being flung and Glowie’s bioluminescence

We have four fucking dice how are we critfailing. What the fuck Dragonborn get it the hell together

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>>5505890

>>5505868
>>5505886
>>5505890
[Given low traffic, I'm going to leave this poll open until I hit the hay, and do a post up before I sleep.]

[Also, you probably expected as much, but expect delays and intermittent posting over Christmas weekend... Unless I'm still too sick and/or snowed in to attend my family's Christmas, in which case I'll just see about ordering in booze and pizza and dedicating myself to some updates.]

>>5505864
>The light of life, love, spells being flung and Glowie’s bioluminescence

The dice really love to cuck us in this spring

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>>5506392
>>5505890
>>5505886
>>5505868
You force the water-damnable, accursed element of the enemy!—from your lungs. What erupts is flame, and fury, parting the spring like the sea before a prophet. With a single desperate beat of your wings you push up, up and OUT, into the stagnant and foggy air of the cavern above. It is alive with light: Glowie’s luminescence as she pivots her great bulk and lashes out with surprisingly swift and brutal blows of her forelimbs against the encroaching horde of shapes; hurled spells of the Novice Fleshweaver and Wevenore Amabassdor also. Neither are masters of evocation or elementalism, though, and these accursed spirits have no true flesh to weave or to rend, no corporeal eyes to blind or bewilder with illusion. They are out of their element.

The Drowgon children cry, while their parents scream and thrash to pull them back from the talons of their twice-ensorcelled ancestors.

Your sons hiss in defiance—less than two weeks old, but full of the same dragonfire as you, the same drive to ascend and conquer.

“ENOUGH!”

You project Presence most fearsome, filling the cavern with the sound of your bellow and the essence of your soul. If your sons can fight like True Dragons, wriggling and barely-armoured grub-things that they are, what excuse do YOU have? You are ashamed for the fear you felt a moment ago, your near-death in pursuit of an ephemeral glory. Do you forget so easily the revelation which the Master of the Insightful Eye led you to, the promise you made to yourself? A True Dragon King is one who puts his kingdom—his people—first. Even through the dimly-lit mist, you see the momentarily frozen figures of those people—elf, Reptilian, insect…

And dwarf.

Karz Throat-Singer banishes the mist about him with a single reverberating note and a pulse of mana, then draws it about him in a swirling vortex. It is mere stagecraft, no true force of Elementalism behind it, but it clears the way for him to see you clearly, and vcie-versa. He has looked at you with curiosity and ambivalence so very often, and with more than a little of the bitter hatred which he has held in his heart for his slaver, his owner, the destroyer and violator of his people…

The one who let Davora, his friend, die.

But now, for the first time, he seems to view you with something like… Hope. Maybe even respect.

“Nobody dies today,” you assert.

No hidden subaquatic treasure could matter more.

Karz nods.