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>>5678076
“Throat-sssinger,” he’d called you. ‘Karz Throat-singer.’

Your voice, like your face, had been a source of shame. Your speaking voice is high, and you could never hide the slight lisp. You had taken up the old art of dwarven throat-singing in a desperate bid to alter that perception—the deep, rumbling tones disguising your natural falsetto. Instead, you had simply ostracized yourself further: the throat-singing brought forth magic, a musical magic regarded as plainly undwarflike. You had all but given it up, when the he’d commanded you:

“Sssing.”

Since then, you have acquired other titles in turn. “Karz the Apprentice”, “Karz the Bard”. “Karz the Bloody”, and “Karz the Cruel”.

You are Karz the Duergar, and by loyalty to the Copper Dragon King of Bloodrise, by magical and musical mastery, and by ruthless conquest, you have finally found your place in the world—a place of respect, and fear, and awe.

When the Dragon King left Bloodrise on a mysterious mission for the Dark Gods he serves, he placed two fellow Reptilians in charge. The first is the Bastard, a ruddy-scaled creature who command loyalty among the half-savage kobolds by dint of alleged draconic ancestry and his frequent appeals to their shared faith; indecisive, vague, ever-awaiting the overdue return of his King, and slow to act. The second is the Pit-Guard, a violent brute with an enchanted axe and an unimaginative mind, who treats the dwarven freedmen like slaves and the dwarven slaves like machines—no, like parts in a single great machine, worth preserving only to extract maximum value, and then to be ‘recycled’ into rations for his kind.

You loathe them both.

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>>5678078
You have little love for any Reptilian, to be honest, or for the drunken, restless, flighty dark elves. The bugbear mercenaries who make up the kingdom’s most elite assassination squads are just as intolerable—smelly, savage, simple-minded goblinoids putting on airs. The kobolds have industry, but it is a slavish industry that would embarrass the LITERAL slaves captured from your own race: they know no innovation, no freedom, no imagination. They work hard, but it is a sloppy and imprecise work, and they are slow to learn new techniques. No, in truth it is the DWARVES who have saved the Dragon King’s empire, and whoa re winning the war for Bloodrise.

The Dragon King wisely took your advice to heart, granting freedom to any dwarf who would renounce their loyalty to the god who abandoned them and the so-called kin who forgot them. Frustrated miners, relegated with their entire families to mere subsidence in a neglected mining colony, were quick to convert if it meant an end to the predation and starvation, especially if the only blood-price to be paid was that of rival corporations’ employee-citizens anyway. Those who earned stability, comfort, status, and living-space found brides among the dwarf-maidens made husbandless and fatherless by the Dragon King’s cullings.

With each base taken, you found more like these men—like you. The forsaken, the outcast, the maidenless and motherless. Those willing to imagine a better future, forged in blood and iron and darkness. Dwarves now make up the bulk of Bloodrise’s military might. Between slaves and slave-takers, dwarves are the largest single demographic in the burgeoning kingdom—outnumbering at last even the kobolds, who breed like rabbits.

But to build this force, you have slain dozens, hundreds maybe. Men, like you father. Women, like your mother. Children, like your brother.

What do you feel?
>Pride
>Shame

https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=reptoidqm is where previous threads are, and the prior quest (which isn't required reading or necessary to understand this one

>>5678081
>Pride
We've gone this far.

>>5678081
>Both, but more shame

>>5678081
>Pride
Better than shame, but I’m alright with our boy being unsavory about the method.

>>5678081
>Pride of having made it
>Shame of inflicting pain, but it is necessary
Is it really necessary?

>>5678081
>Shame

Nice we're playing our favorite dwarven incel

>>5678081
>>Shame
If only he had tried harder to change the king's mind. A death sentence to be sure but at least not as shameful as living through this. Too late now...

>>5678081
>Pride
He is a dwarf whose good at his job, he doesnt have to like his coworkers but his boss saw something in him and hes a fuckin champ so of course he feels pride

>>5678081
We saw what happened to devora when the loyal dwarves got their hands on her. Even though all she did trick the siege defenders, and did not personally slay anyone. The dwarves made sure to torture and draw out her death painfully at no real benefit to themselves since they already lost.

Why should we feel any shame at what we are doing when the opposite would not be true?

>Pride

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>>5678337
>>5678289
>>5678222
>>5678217
>>5678194
>>5678146
>>5678126
>>5678097
You take a deep breath and regard yourself in the mirror—clad in leather and elf-woven greatworm silk, died black and adorned with looted gems. Your quarters—the largest you’ve yet inhabited, taken from a Gems-Be-We corporate mine-manager—are full of symbols of your victories: helms of fallen foes; deep-spiders and cave-vipers which uneasily tolerate each other and await your command; and your bedmate for the day, asleep among your roughshod sheets atop a feather-filled bed so luxurious most dwarves would regard it as decadent, a n invitation to indolence and sin.

Sin…

What is sin? Your whole life, you were regarded as a sinful in some way. As ‘weak’. As ‘wrong’. That wasn’t the truth, though. The other dwarves were wrong—about you, the gods, the way forward. They break now because, inflexible and narrow of view, they cannot adapt to the new world—the world of dragons, and Dark Gods, and Duergar.

“Karz…?”

Ah, he’s awake. Your lover looks at you in confusion, and with a hopeful note asks:

“Why are you dressed?”

Implying you need not be—that you could return to bed. You smile slightly.

“because there’s work to be done,” you say simply.

No shame here, no, none at all. You are on the right side of history… And by your will, so soon shall the rest of your people be. It may hurt in the interim, but they will be made stronger for it—as you have been. They'll all hear the Ballad of Pride...

>>5678349
You are now the Thief, the once-and-future Reptilian Infiltrator who has become de facto spymaster of Bloodrise. A Silkscale male branded for stealing from your own Master race, you have found honour anew as the hidden-and-masked eyes and ears of the Copper Dragonborn, here called ‘Dragon King’ in the Bloodrise. For the last two months, you have been assisting each of the Dragonborn’s chiefmost lieutenants—the Bastard, the Pit-Guard, the Translator (furthest from his inner circle, but still a ranking Serpent priest). You have liaised with the Kobold Council of Elders, the Bugbear Boss (ugh), and with the Ambassador from Wevenore (City of the Drow). You have watched them all carefully, monitoring their ambitions as closely as the activities of your adversaries…

But it is the Throat-singer, the dwarf called ‘Karz’, who ahs troubled you most of all. His power and influence has grown here, and with it, his ego. He commands his fellow stout-and-hairy mole-apes like his own personal militia. The other ranking ‘Duergar’, including the stupid-but-effective savage ‘Korgan’, defer to him. He holds private council with the Geologist, the Engineer, even the so-called ‘Stone-sniffer’. Several times, he has disobeyed his Reptilian superiors—always in service of Bloodrise, always to positive effect, but even so.

He commands arthropods and reptiles alike with his song, and increasingly the mountain reverberates with his music—his influence, insidious and subversive. As a subversive element yourself—Infiltrator of mammals by training, one-time Betrayer of the Master Race out of avarice—you recognize your twisted likeness in him.

And yet… He IS indisputably the most effective of the Dragonborn’s lieutenants, and the most popular among the ever-growing dwarven contingent in the Bloodrise Mountains.

What will you do?
>Assassinate him
>Confront him with the other Reptilian elites here
>Continue to observe him, for now
>Write-in

>>5678350
>Continue to observe, for now

>>5678350
>Undermine him and find a way to weaken/counter his magic

>>5678350
>Continue to observe him, for now.

If all he has done is disobey the pit guard or the bastard, i dont see the problem. As long as karz stays loyal to us the support he has been gathering is cool.

>>5678350
>Continue to observe him, for now
>>5678289
Backlink

>>5678350
>Continue to observe him, for now

>>5678350
>Continue to observe him, for now
>Look for ways to subtly undermine his power base - such as creating a rival for him amongst the Duergar elite, or aiding slaves who wish to revolt

His ambition needs to be tempered by a low level of disunity amongst the dwarves - that way he focuses more attention inward towards his own people

>>5678350
>Continue to observe him, for now

With us gone our lieutenants are already jockeying for power like rats.

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>>5678586
>>5678576
>>5678408
>>5678402
>>5678401
>>5678374
>>5678365
In the end, you decide not to act. The Throat-singer is a subversive, yes, but not a rebel. With the Copper Dragonborn away, ALL the lieutenants are jockeying for power. It is the way of things: those with the will to power will SEEK power. In encouraging ambition among even his lowliest subordinates, the Dragonborn has increased the number of seekers… But in binding them with threads of faith and community, and giving them a common enemy to fight against in his absence, he has kept them focused on OUTDOING one another in that war… Rather than warring on each other.

You have to wonder… Did he intend this?

The Dragonborn has styled himself some sort of Antipaladin and Dark Prophet, even a KING… But how intricate are his machinations? How powerful is his will? How grand are his ambitions?

…Is HE a subversive?

Is the DRAGONBORN ANTIPALADIN a rebel? Surely it cannot be so.

And yet…

You shake your head and hiss in irritation at yourself. No, the Dragonborn Project is a product of the priestly caste. If he has engineered this rudimentary society here to contain and constrain itself, it is the Holy Ones who TRULY pull those strings, on behalf of the Dark Gods. It is obvious, when you think about it! No wonder the schemes seem so serpentine, executed in shadows by Serpent Priests. Ha! One such as you should recognize their signature work by now. You will observe, and see how their manipulations play out.

It does make you wonder, though… If there WAS a schism, which side would you fall on? Would you defy the Master Race AGAIN, in service to that race’s self-proclaimed Champion? You touch the mask upon your face, which that same Dragonborn Champion gifted you to cover the scarification which the Serpent Priests inflicted, and you fall into silent contemplation.

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>>5678691
You are nameless. You are part of the great whole, first among many, a queen of a hive! Your hive is small, yes, but it is mighty—nine sons, nine warriors, crafted from the flesh and blood of ancient demigods and bioengineered champions, according to the blueprints of Grandmother—the one who the little lizards call ‘Mother of Dragons’. She was your designer, also. You were made Princess, then Queen of this little hive—a LITERAL ‘mother of dragons’. You wiggle happily at the thought.

The Dragonborn—your mate, your ‘king’—calls you ‘Glowie’. You think this is a silly name, and not very creative, but he gave it to you and so you sue it. You enjoy hearing him say it. Names are as intimate to his race as they are pointless to yours. That he uses your ‘name’ rather than a title is a testament to his love for you. You love that he loves you. It makes him yours! It protects the hive. Your sons are his sons. His kingdom—kingdom! Ha, silly lizards—is yours. In your eggsack germinate the seeds of thousands, tens of thousands—a nation of daughters, to cover the world one day once your big and strong sons prepare it for them.

You are Glowie, Queen of Bloodrise—and then, the world! ~Hmm, hmmmmmMMM, mm-MM~

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>>5678692
You are humming happily and wiggling at the thought of your mate’s return—that you might hold his hand and sing his praises for gifting you this planet—when one of your sons alerts you that you have a visitor. It takes you a moment to remember the name of this son—a runty one, a strange one, but he always seems to know when someone is visiting before ever his brothers do. You think your mate called ‘Natvodask, the Unknowable’. You wouldn’t know—hehe!~

The visitor arrives, shadowed by the twinly sons—the two who always follow each other’s scent trails and trills, and kill together. It is the little unpleasant hairy thing which your mate keeps as a pet—not the ‘Junior Novice’, but the other one, who <hums>, like you <hum> to make your sons listen.

“Throat-zzinger,” you greet him pleasantly.

He nods—he doesn’t bow, you note, but you don’t mind. You don’t bother yourself with what bite-sized morsels do or don’t do. Pageantry is for lizards! Part of that pageantry is that they do not yet know that they are your food, and you their patient Queen, so you would forgive the silly little thing anyway. He doesn’t know better! He puffs his chest and pretends not to be afraid of you and your sons. He does not fool you, but you are kind and do not tell him so. Only the elf with the centipede and the lance is truly at ease with you and your sons, besides your mate and MAYBE his funny priestess.

Eventually he realizes you are waiting for him to explain his presence. It is funny to fall quiet and make them talk first! You didn’t have a voice for so long, not one they understood, so you have no need to fill silences as the monkeys and even lizards do. You are never alone, with the <hum>, and never at a want for conversation!

“Ah,” he vocalizes, clearly uncomfortable, “You are the Greatworm, yes? The… Princess?”

“Queen,” you gently correct him.

“I was given to believe your mother was yoru people’s queen?”

“Every hive hazzz a queen,” you say.

Mother surely thinks herself Queen of Queens, of course—first and greatest, made by a goddess directly. She isn’t the one with nine dragon-sons, though, is she? Mother is so silly! You will give her a chance to surrender and bow before you before you devour her. You love Mother~

“Well, Queen of Greatworms… I have a request. As you know, your race’s grubs have been immensely valuable for carrying messages and supplies, and observing and reporting upon dwarven strongholds, as well as the humans in the valleys below.”

>>5678693
You hum happily. It is true: you know EVERYTHING that happens in Bloodrise! Your ‘grubs’ and Mother’s have been fighting for control for some time, but these last months you have been laying clutches of daughters in hidden places, and instructing them to lay in wait until they can eat their lesser ‘aunts’. Now, your daughters form most of the network around Bloodrise. It is a friendly wars, till-no important or valuable ‘greatworms’ have been eaten on either side, and it hasn’t been important enough to mention to your mate; your daughters and mother’s still cooperate when this lizards need you to, so nobody has seemed to notice.

“However, every other member of the Dark Alliance—the Wevenore Drow, the Bogbarri, the Kobolds, and the Reptilian Master Race… They have all volunteered military strength. WARRIORS, you see, as well as workers.”

Hmmm? He wants you to help fight their silly vertebrate battles? DIRECTLY? You can’t do that, of course—not like when you were a ‘princess’, before you gave birth. Your massive, trailing egg-sack precludes DIRECT conflict now, except in most desperate circumstances. And anyway, queens don’t FIGHT, they boss their children around, eat, and lay eggs. Duh!~

But then… You DO have your sons. THEY are your warriors, in the way the little silly hairy hummer understands war. But they are for you, to protect YOU and advance YOUR queenly majesty. The silly Throat-singer explains about his intent for a ‘final push’ to conquer the dwarves of the mountain, and you wiggle as you half-listen. He wants to do something called ‘shock-and-awe’, which you understand to mean leveraging your little boys’ handsomeness and strength to make all the remaining enemy dwarves bow down and submit to your mate. It means putting them directly into harm’s way, and not to your immediate benefit, but then again isn’t that what soldier-boys are FOR?

But you’d also have to teach this <hummer> how to <hum> to your sons, if they’re going to follow his commands. Their father is ONE thing, with his ~big, strong <Presence>~, but your sons will not listen to the silly flapping mouth-sounds of a vertebrate besides their lance-elf babysitter and the priestess. They are young and wild, when you do not make them <listen> to the <hum>. They could go wild and disobey in battle if only a little weak thing was there to tell them where to go and what to do!

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>>5678695
Hmmm, MMmm hmMMM~ Dwarves are pretty tasty~

Maybe you will agree, so your sons and daughters can bundle up and bring back some dwarves for you to eat? After all, you know the ones they call ‘dwarves’ do not give up easily. There will be dead to devour~

Will you lend this silly little morsel your sons?
>Yes, and you’ll teach him to <hum> properly
>Yes, sure, whatever—but you’re not teaching him how to <hum> them into submission
>No way, they are YOUR warriors, and you’re not wasting them on his silly little project
>Maybe just a FEW sons… [Specify which, and whether you teach him the <hum>]
>Write-in

>>5678696
>Yes, and you’ll teach him to <hum> properly

glowie can't pop out more mundane bug warriors?

>>5678702
Warriors' seem to exclusively be the result of cross species fertilizations.

On their own they can only produces the bug dumb non-sentient drones and other future female hive queens.

>>5678696
>No way, they are YOUR warriors, and you’re not wasting them on his silly little project

>>5678696
>Yes, sure, whatever—but you’re not teaching him how to <hum> them into submission. He can bring the Lancer along, if he needs more precise applications of the talents your Sons can bring

>>5678696
>Yes, sure, whatever—but you’re not teaching him how to <hum> them into submission. He can bring the Lancer along, if he needs more precise applications of the talents your Sons can bring
Maybe he can take the Singer as a little apprentice.

God, I missed Glowie- we need to give her some lovin’ in our Dragonshape, she’d love that.

>>5678696
>>Yes, and you’ll teach him to <hum> properly

>>5678696
>Yes, sure, whatever—but you’re not teaching him how to <hum> them into submission. He can bring the Lancer along, if he needs more precise applications of the talents your Sons can bring

He is not worthy of the <Hum> …yet

>>5678696
>Yes, sure, whatever—but you’re not teaching him how to <hum> them into submission
lets not go overboard. They are still young

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>>5679059
>>5678849
>>5678786
>>5678756
>>5678740
>>5678728
>>5678712
>>5678702
“Yezz, okay,” you agree after some consideration. “But you zzhould bring the Zzentipede Lanzzzer. They will lizzten to that one.”

The Throat-singer frowns, and asks: “They won’t listen to me? Why not?”

“They barely lizzten to me,” you lament, and exhale a sigh from your book-lungs. “Boyzzzz.”

Maybe serving their purpose in war will help expend some of your sons’ pent-up energy. As long as most of them live, it should be fine! The dwarf is very excited, at least, yammering on about their tactical utility and how fearsome they are—his fear for your sons transformed into some sort of militaristic fetishism for their martial potential. You sons silently request with pheromones and subsonic thrums to eat the little mole-ape. You tell them ‘no’, and <hum> until they all signal compliance. None-the-wiser, the Throat-singer asks:

“And you can produce more these, yes? Uh, that is… You can have more sons?”

“Yezz,” you agree.

“How quickly?” he asks eagerly.

“Not zzoon enough for your war,” you answer.

In truth, it is no meagre feat to produce warriors—they require far more calories than any daughter, save perhaps a future queen—you haven’t tried to lay a ‘princess’ egg yet, and won’t until you have ample territory for her to expand into, and can enforce her compliance. Perhaps you’ll breed her to one of her brothers, if she is good: a male is necessary to fertilize eggs, if a hive is to make soldiers. Fertilized once, you may produce them indefinitely… But you know, without knowing exactly how, that subsequent generations of warriors will not match the artificially-augmented ‘fleshwoven’ sons of your first clutch, made with a ancient dragon-blood and the assistance of your mate’s other lover. All the more reason to hope that most of these nine survive to breed, and pass on their unique genetics, but ALSO all the more reason to be careful how you breed them…

The Throat-singer eventually stops talking, seemingly noticing that you have stopped listening. He thanks you and leaves, and you bid your sons to leave with him—and to be good! No eating anyone important! They follow the dwarf, obedient for now at least.

You hum happily, imagining the thousand generations to come, and your big, happy family holding hands and wiggling in unison the world over in the aeons ahead. An Age of Chitin, AND of Scales! How lovely~

~HmmMMM, mmMMM, hm hm HMMMMMmmmmmMM~

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>>5679467

You are the ‘Centipede Lancer’, apparently. In actuality, you are Hamaraska, but the lizardmen do not like names, for some reason. You are fine with whatever they wish to call you—you’ve been called far worse than even what you suspect they hiss back and forth about you and your fellow Drow, and you have never had a name worth defending. You were abandoned as an elfling, left to die due to the perception that you were ‘god-touched’—that is to say, blessed by the gods who forsook your people and sided with the treasonous elves who stole your place in the sun. Neither male nor female, as with the maligned priestly class of the traitor-gods, you could never benefit from your people’s sacred cycles of seasons. You exist outside them, and so were driven to the outskirts.

You’ve never felt especially blessed… But maybe in some ways you are? After all, it was in your solitude and scrounging for morsels of food that you found Honemdyn, the giant cave-centipede for whom the lizardmen have named you. You affinity for Honemdyn led you naturally to an aptitude for arthropod husbandry. This is a respected profession among the Drow, which you would never be allowed to occupy in any formal capacity… But it also made you an ideal nanny to the brood of the Greatworm Queen.

Tud, Jep, Lop, Fidi, Telo, Nopti, Tonu, Gohja, and Nat. You never felt especially maternal or paternal—it just never seemed an option to you, you suppose, and so you never gave it much thought, until you were tasked with wrangling, corralling, and controlling just shy of a dozen ‘wyrmlings’. Even Honemdyn was never so much trouble, though your early difficulties with him helped inform you as you reared the fuzzy little bug-princes. For you, Honemdyn was always more a friend—maybe a sibling? You have never known the like of a brother or sister, either. In taking care of him, though, you learned valuable lessons which were applicable here: how to imprint yourself upon a great insect by associating yourself with food without becoming viewed AS food yourself; how to make them comfortable with being handled, and led. How to make them go where you say to go, and stop when you say to stop. How to make them fear, respect, and even enjoy your presence.

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>>5679513
“You are take wyrmlings in war?” you ask the Throat-singer, cognizant of your poor command of the Northern Common-tongue which is nevertheless your only shared language.

“Yes, and their mother says you’re the one to see about keeping them… On-task.”

You nod. That much makes sense. The Glowworm Queen knows how to direct her sons as a unit, and you’ve heard that King Theral can do so as well—no small wonder, with them being shaped by his gods, and his sheer ability t command the respect of just about ANYONE he meets. But for you… Well, you can keep them subdued and cooperative. You can issue simple commands. But you don’t have that… That… Whatever-it-ism that allows their Queen-mother or Dragon King to control them so effectively. You have to use word, gestures, sometimes the application of light coercion. You cannot control all nine of them, in the chaos of their first true military engagement!

The Throat-singer seems to sense your reticence. You attempt to explain yourself, but her in terrupts your disjointed half-explanation, stating:

“I only need them to not attack our forces, to stay in formation, and to withdraw when I say to withdraw—when surrender has been offered. This is it—the last big push, for the whole damn mountain-range! If you can just get them to do THAT, we’ll all live like kings. Can you do it, elf?”

Well… No, you can’t. But you can probably control SOME of them—and direct them effectively, ensuring THEY at least follow orders. They are larger, stronger, heavier, and faster than you—even if you ride atop Honemdyn! They have grown quickly, which is to be expected with larvae, but they are also SMART… And as much as that may make them more effective allies to your race, the dak dwarves, and the lizardmen, it ALSO makes them more difficult to control. They’re like curious toddlers with the size and weight of a cave-bear. It is only a guess, but you suspect you can effectively control three of the wyrms—four or five, maybe, if you choose a bonded pair.

Which sons will you supervise in battle?
>Tudyvak, the Scout
>Jepvysk, the Hunter
>Lopfivik and Fidiefvik, the Terror Twins
>Telovvisk of the Deep
>Noptivisk, the Singer
>Tonupask Ironclad & Gohjavisk Half-Dragon
>Natvodask Unknowable

[Choose no more than three; Lop and Fidi are paired and count as one choice, and so are Tonu and Gohja]

>>5679523
>Lopfivik and Fidiefvik, the Terror Twins
>Tonupask Ironclad & Gohjavisk Half-Dragon
>Noptivisk, the Singer

Maximizing number of Sons allows us to control them by proxy when we overwhelm the Dwarves, by siccing them on their less-obedient siblings.. and maybe the Singer will have some connection with Karz.

>>5679523
>Lopfivik and Fidiefvik, the Terror Twins
>Tonupask Ironclad & Gohjavisk Half-Dragon
>Natvodask Unknowable

Go the mystery box

>>5679523
>Lopfivik and Fidiefvik, the Terror Twins
>Tonupask Ironclad & Gohjavisk Half-Dragon
>Natvodask Unknowable

mystery box
also the singer might also be more suited to shaking off the effects of Karz's hum. could go either way.

>>5679528
+1 To this, the singer might actually bond with Karz if they can learn from each other bard magicwise, which would be pretty badass

>>5679523
>>Lopfivik and Fidiefvik, the Terror Twins
>>Tonupask Ironclad & Gohjavisk Half-Dragon
>>Noptivisk, the Singer

>>5679528
+1

>>5679523
>>5679528
This

>>5679823
>>5679757
>>5679660
>>5679611
>>5679606
>>5679604
>>5679528
You’re not entirely sure what’s expected of you in this battle ahead. Are you to serve as a sort of ‘unit commander’ for the wyrmlings? To simply help reinforce discipline? However, one thing seems clear to you—this little dwarf-man, with his puffed chest and proudly-tilted chin, is in over his head with these nine young dragon-bugs. He’ll need all the help he can get… So you endeavour to supervise the maximum possible number of the wyrms, taking as much of the weight off of his low-set shoudlers as possible.

“Lop, Fidi, Tonu, Gohja… Ah, Nopti.”

To his credit, Karz seems to recognize your intent, at least in part.

“Taking command of the two sets of ‘twins’? Clever. They’ll work together well. Makes it easier for you to command a lot of them at once! Maybe the others will follow by example, ay?”

You shrug and nod.

“Why that last one, though?” the Dragon King’s dwarven apprentice asks.

“He sings,” you answer. “He can sing to the others… maybe you. Send warning, call for help. Is good thing to have, yeah?”

Karz nods again, looking thoughtful.

“Yeah, I agree. It is. A bard, huh?”

He seems to regard Nopti with renewed interest. You slap the chitin plate on the Singer’s flank, as you catch him leaning forward with hungry intent, and Nopti demurs.You’ve noticed the wyrmlings’ ravenous appetite declining as their growth-moulting cycle slowed. It’s been a great relief—you used to expend a great deal of your energy preventing them from chasing down and consuming every kobold, dwarf, or elfling which moved fast enough to trigger their predatory instincts.

‘Not bard,’ Nopti signs with his manipulating digits, in the sign-language used by Wevenore’s spies and assassins—something you’re proud to have passed onto the wyrms,and prouder still that they’ve embraced so readily. ‘Not magic.’

‘We don’t know that for sure yet,’ you sign back encouragingly.

Rolled 98, 92, 56, 55 = 301 (4d100)

>>5680061

After all, who KNOWS whatv the wyrmlings will grow into? You’re excited to see it, if indeed these strange beings reach maturity in your own lifetime—you ARE, after all, already a century-and-a-half old, and there is no precedent for the juvenile wyrmlings’ lifecycle, which could take a year, or a decade, or a century. You HOPE you get to see them grow, and change, and perhaps even help tutor them on how to care for young of their own someday, though.

You discuss the Duergar leader's plans for a while after that. The wyrmlings laze around, clearly paying no attention—well, except, of course, who is always attentive. Tud wanders away after a time, but you give him a pointed look and, with a quiet sigh, he signs back 'Kill only animals, and not go too far.' Good boy.

Yes, this must be what parenthood feels like…

Eventually, you and the Throat-singer part company, to make preparations for what is to come: war, and according to Karz, a victory both final and absolute.

4d100 for the results of the final push. DC 30/50/80; the last die represents Hamaraska’s group, and the DCs are lowered by 15 for them and their wyrmlings.

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>>5680065
While war rages in the mountains above, there is quiet in the underdark below. It is a welcome respite—the small party of four (plus one dearly departed kobold) has had no shortage of excitement as of late. You thank the Dark Gods for seeing fit to grant you <Guidance> away from any further danger.

You are called by many names and titles, most of them self-appointed. Champion. Knight Ascendant. Dark Prophet. Prince of Love. Copper Dragon King of Bloodrise. Theral. Long Wang.

You are the DRAGONBORN ANTIPALADIN, and you are almost home.

You are recently of Hawksong, where you wore the skin and name of ‘Long Wang’, the eastern exorcist and adventurer. In this guise, you seduced and wed the very daughter of the city’s Paladin King Archos: Ekaterine, your Beloved One. She travels with you now, troubled by the truth of your no-longer-hidden Reptilian nature, but still bound to you by chains of love… And by the divinely-blessed baby you planted within her upon your wedding night.

Also alongside you is your other Beloved One, your first love and perhaps closest ally, the Novice Fleshweaver. She, like your human mate, is rather cross with you at the moment. The reasons are myriad, and you can’t necessarily deny the legitimacy of some of her grievances: you tarried long in Hawksong, took many risks in the name of your love for another; you have made many bold (but necessary!) changes to the old social order which grants her prestige and privilege, and plan to make many more.

Most recently, you led your retinue deliberately into danger to dispense with a troublesome ‘ally’ who was truly meant to be your usurper and supervisor, appointed by the Serpent Priest caste which has long ruled your Master Race during your people’s exile in darkness, and which fear the brave you world you plan to bring about—a world where you can stride the surface as kings and queens, and bring glorious Darkness to the sunlit world above! Of course, it was this detour which proved deadly to poor little Ivno—the kobold who your half-human retainer Oluwadamilre the Archer now carries in a bundle upon his back, that you might repatriate his body to his people in Bloodrise. It also resulted in the capture, traumatically claustrophobic entrapment, and battery of all of you… hence the tense atmosphere of your grim procession back home.

Hm. Well, they can’t stay mad forever, right?

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>>5680082
Olu, at least, is in good spirits—even with the dead body upon his back.

“I wonder how the war has proceeded in your absence, Dragonborn?” he asks, breaking the silence. “You said that in Hawksong, you heard the dwarves were losing rather badly, yes? This bodes well for us! You might be returning to a much larger kingdom than you left!”

“Yes,” you agree, happy for the more positive discussion. “If we are not yet undisputed rulers of the mountains, we will be soon enough!”

You both chuckle at the images that conjures, and Olu in particular seems flattered to be included as a ‘ruler’—as a human-born ‘Degenerate’, his lot is that of a useful abomination in your society—a slave-spy, sterilized and subjugated. To him, your brave new world—the New Age of Darkness—means even more than it does to other Reptilians of the Master Race. It means recognition, respect, and a chance at genuine happiness. You are glad to give these things to him—to ALL the forgotten children of darkness and deprivation. It is your duty and destiny, and it’s THIS world that you know even skeptical and Light-born Eka will come to love.

But speaking of love…

“If things are going so well in Bloodrise, perhaps we are not so urgently needed?” Olu the Archer asks, tentatively.

You tilt your head questioningly, slowing down somewhat. It’s not like him to initiate conversation, you realize, and so you begin to wonder what he has in mind—if this question, and where it leads, is WHY he broke the silence.

“I was wondering,” he says, averting his gaze and fidgeting with uncharacteristic nervousness for the normally-confident Archer, “if we might pay a visit to the forward camp of the Drow? We are not far from there—a two-day journey, there and back, at most.”

Ah. Yes, the encampment which the dark elves of Wevenore keep to monitor the caves closer to the surface, between Bloodrise and the northern forward base of your race. You first encountered it when you left that base almost two years prior—it feels like a lifetime ago, now!—an your journey to subjugate the kobolds of Bloodrise. That fateful mission eld you on a lifechanging adventure such as you never could have expected, changing you from just an usual-looking experimental soldier of the Master Race into the Dragon King you are today!

And it was there that Olu the Archer met Jazkarmel—the Drow Princess (if the term still applies, now that her patron relative is no longer queen?) who serves as commander of that camp.

>>5680083
Diverting to pay Jazkarmel’s camp a visit could provide some welcome respite for all of you. Ekaterine especially would benefit; she has lived a sheltered life and is not accustomed to such long, hard travel, or to sleeping upon bare stones, and who has lately begun to lag and to require frequent stops to rest (much to the Novice’s ire). You, too, have enjoyed the raucous revels of the dark elf warriors in the past, and Jazkarmel’s fine company and unpretentious conversation—though perhaps not so much as Olu, who obvious has ulterior motives for suggestion the detour.

Can you really afford to remain away from Bloodrise any longer than you already have, though? It has been months… What ahs become of your kingdom? Your lieutenants? Your first mate Glowie, and your wyrmling sons?

What will you do?
>Visit Jazkarmel’s camp
>Hurry to Bloodrise

>>5680084
>Visit Jazkarmel’s camp
They'll be fine without us for a few more days

>>5680084
>Visit Jazkarmel’s camp

From a strictly business perspective, we can pass along to the Drow that the conquest is going well and we may be ready to move into a new phase soon, with their assistance.

>>5680084
>Hurry to Bloodrise
We gotta make sure everything is ok, we can throw together an expedition to the camp within hours of arrival with Olu at the head, but Bloodrise first.

>>5680084
"who obvious has ulterior motives for suggestion the detour"
*obviously has ulterior motives for suggesting
Ugh

>>5680084
>Visit Jazkarmel’s camp

We can stay for at least 1 night

>>5680084
>>Visit Jazkarmel’s camp.

We killed deepvein's adventuring group that was planning on helping the dwarves. And we also stopped hawksong from providing them aid. The bloodrise kingdom should be fine.

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>>5680087
>>5680119
>>5680127
>>5680211
>>5680226
The Archer has been a loyal and stalwart friend, so you can forgive him being less than up-front about his (frankly quite transparent) motivations. After all, you are Prince of Love! But can you really afford to be away from Bloodrise any longer?

Well… Yes.

You may have been away from home for some time, but you haven’t been on vacation. You’ve been working to ensure that your kingdom in Bloodrise WOULD be safe in your absence. The adventurers who were to render aid were smashed and broken, and Hawksong’s only surviving prince is your puppet. No help is coming for the dwarves of Bloodrise. Your war may go slowly—there may be losses—but there is no reason to believe that a few more days will make or break the campaign.

“Wise council, Archer,” you reply to Olu, who beams. “We can pass along to the Drow that the conquest is going well and we may be ready to move into a new phase soon, with their assistance.”

“As you say, Superior One!”

You rattle quietly with laughter, and inform the others. The Novice Fleshweaver is indifferent to the delay, save for mentioning that she will have to expend yet more of his magic to prevent Ivno’s body ‘spoiling’ unduly. Princess Ekaterine’s reaction, meanwhile, is mixed.

“There are ELVES?” she asks, trying to hide the excitement which slips into her voice. “underground?”

“Yesss,” you tell her. “They are called the ‘Drow’ in their own tongue—an ancccient elven dialect from before a long-passst sschisssm. They live in thisss marveousss cccity of cryssstal and sssilk, on the edge of a vassst sssubterranean lake…”

Like you, your Eka is an appreciator of elven artwork, culture, and language. While she is more familiar with the surface-elves of the so-called Elflands—Silverwood, Iternagreyn, the Dawnglades, etcetera, with which you have only passing familiarity yourself—she is also a student of history and society, and ever-curious to learn about foreign cultures and new peoples. The barrier which has been erected between you since you revealed your true form and spirited her away begins to break down, and recent unfortunate happenings are briefly pushed away as the two of you share your experiences and knowledge of elvenkind above and below.

“…Though I must admit, I am not looking forward to encountering these, ah, giant bugs.”

Eka shivers at the mere thought of the dark elves’ favourite pets, most especially their spiders. You, who grew up regarding such monstrously-large arthropods primarily as a food source, cannot exactly relate.

“Jussst wait until you meet Glowie,” the Novice taunts Ekaterine.

>>5680407
“…Glowie?” Ekaterine asks, looking questioningly (and somewhat worriedly) to you.

Ah, yes. Your THIRD ‘wife’, if such a human concept can apply to an enormous sapient glowworm with whom you bred a clutch of insectoid creatures. Blissfully, you are spared yet having to provide a full explanation of THAT whole affair by your arrival at the edges of the Drow camp—or, rather, by the watchful Drow scouts emerging from the deeper darkness to greet you, having recognized ‘King Theral’ and his entourage. Ekaterine seems somewhat scandalized at their scant attire—their ebon-black bodies largely bare except for straps of ghoul-leather binding harvested chitin armor over translucent-thin spider-silk garments; she tries to hide her staring, but her wide eyes and flushed face afford her no secrets. They lead you back to their camp, and you are rather amused all the way.

“Copper Dragon King! Oluwadamilare!” Jazkarmel greets you both warmly upon your arrival.

The Drow Princess embraces you both for quite some time—Olu especially, and without shame. Her tryst with him, in lieu of the political marriage she was meant to forge, may be minor scandal in Wevenore, but here among her loyal soldiers—all rather wanton and flagrant in the loose and mixed-gender military structure of the camp—their love is open secret.

“Ah, and you brought the Serpent Priestess,” Jazkarmel says with less enthusiasm of the novice, who hisses in response.

“Of courssse,” she says, in her rather broken Drowtongue. “I am sssenior rank here.”

Jazkarmel shrug and smiles easily, and offers a low bow. This seems to brighten the Novice’s mood somewhat, especially when Jazkarmel summons attendants to take her ack and see to it that she is immediately offered comforts and a place to rest.

“This one is new, though,” Jazkarmel then notes, regarding Ekaterine curiously. “Is she… Like Olu? A mixed-blood?”

Your Princess surprises you both with her quick reply--in Elven no less!—saying: “No, I am a human. My name is Ekaterine, Princess of Hawksong, Daughter of Paladin King Archos. It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess Jazkarmel of Wevenore… Wife of the Copper Dragon King.”

>>5680408

At least… You THINK that’s what she said. It’s certainly the gist. You and Jazkarmel exchange a look, and the Drow Princess laughs nervously.

“A different dialect. Traitor-tongue.”

“Yes,” you acknowledge, “She is… From the surface, of course, so the Elventongue she speaks is…”

Jazkarmel nods understanding, and gives Ekaterine a gracious bow.

“The pleasure is mine,” she replies, and then looks questioningly to you.

“And… Wife? I had thought…?”

Jazkarmel's eyes flit in the direction which the Novice Fleshweaver (never one to socialize overmuch with 'he help') absconded.

“A Dragon King can have many wives,” you quickly interject.

“Ah,” Jazkarmel laughs. “How nice for you! But a wife to you is like a new sister to me, of course!”

She warmly embraces Ekaterine, who blushes anew but awkwardly returns the embrace. You suppose elven diplomats from surface nations are not so touchy-feely as the Wevenore Drow… Or at least, not with the treasured daughter of the Paladin King.

“Come, come!” Jazkarmel says then, and beckons you. “It sounds like you have many stories to share, and you all look as if it has been difficult travel! Eat, drink, sing if you wish, dance or duel. We have a wedding to celebrate, after all! Even if I unfortunately was not on the guest-list…”

Her eyes sparkle with mischief at the last comment, and you reciprocate with a laugh of your own at the playful jab. She takes Olu’s arm, and you take Ekaterine’s—which she accepts—and you follow her.

What will you do?
>Party hardy—and provide Ekaterine some of the psychedelic mushroom-wine of the Drow to help her relax
>Talk strategy—request that the Drow ready for the next stage of your expansion of the Bloodrise Kingdom
>Ask after Wevenore-how have things fared in the Oasis of Silk and Crystal, since you left?
>Procure new garb for yourself and your retinue—it would not do to arrive in Bloodrise in shredded rags
>Have Jazkarmel—a mage of some skill, after all—examine your new khopesh to determine its magical functions
>Write-in
[The more you choose, the longer your stay; keep that in mind]

>>5680409
>Ask after Wevenore-how have things fared in the Oasis of Silk and Crystal, since you left?
>Procure new garb for yourself and your retinue—it would not do to arrive in Bloodrise in shredded rags
>Have Jazkarmel—a mage of some skill, after all—examine your new khopesh to determine its magical functions

>>5680409
>Party hardy—and provide Ekaterine some of the psychedelic mushroom-wine of the Drow to help her relax
I can't not pick an option with party hardy

>Ask after Wevenore-how have things fared in the Oasis of Silk and Crystal, since you left?

>>5680409
>Party hardy—and provide Ekaterine some of the psychedelic mushroom-wine of the Drow to help her relax
>Have Jazkarmel—a mage of some skill, after all—examine your new khopesh to determine its magical functions

>>5680409
>>Have Jazkarmel—a mage of some skill, after all—examine your new khopesh to determine its magical functions
>Ask after Wevenore-how have things fared in the Oasis of Silk and Crystal, since you left?

>>5680409
>Ask after Wevenore-how have things fared in the Oasis of Silk and Crystal, since you left?
>Procure new garb for yourself and your retinue—it would not do to arrive in Bloodrise in shredded rags

>>5680409
>Party hardy—and provide Ekaterine some of the psychedelic mushroom-wine of the Drow to help her relax
She has been pretty stressed out ngl

>>5680409
>Party hardy—and provide Ekaterine some of the psychedelic mushroom-wine of the Drow to help her relax
>Talk strategy—request that the Drow ready for the next stage of your expansion of the Bloodrise Kingdom
>Ask after Wevenore-how have things fared in the Oasis of Silk and Crystal, since you left?
>Procure new garb for yourself and your retinue—it would not do to arrive in Bloodrise in shredded rags
>Have Jazkarmel—a mage of some skill, after all—examine your new khopesh to determine its magical functions
We can spend some time here

>>5680409
Please let's not give alcohol and drugs to the pregnant woman.

>Procure new garb for yourself and your retinue—it would not do to arrive in Bloodrise in shredded rags
>Have Jazkarmel—a mage of some skill, after all—examine your new khopesh to determine its magical functions
>Have the Novice untie the tubes of the Archer

>>5680409
Shit, I didn't think of it. I'll switch >>5680518 to
>Talk strategy—request that the Drow ready for the next stage of your expansion of the Bloodrise Kingdom
>Ask after Wevenore-how have things fared in the Oasis of Silk and Crystal, since you left?
>Procure new garb for yourself and your retinue—it would not do to arrive in Bloodrise in shredded rags
>Have Jazkarmel—a mage of some skill, after all—examine your new khopesh to determine its magical functions
Everything other than giving alcohol and drugs to the pregnant woman.

>>5680544
probably a good idea
>>5680427
changing to
>Procure new garb for yourself and your retinue—it would not do to arrive in Bloodrise in shredded rags
>Have Jazkarmel—a mage of some skill, after all—examine your new khopesh to determine its magical functions

>>5680544
Also, backlinking ID to >>5678194

>>5680409
>>Talk strategy—request that the Drow ready for the next stage of your expansion of the Bloodrise Kingdom
>>Ask after Wevenore-how have things fared in the Oasis of Silk and Crystal, since you left?
>>Procure new garb for yourself and your retinue—it would not do to arrive in Bloodrise in shredded rags
Shopping and gossip. I'm sure that will help the ladies unwind after a hard journey.
Politics and strategy is also prudent.

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>>5680736
>>5680590
>>5680566
>>5680544
>>5680470
>>5680440
>>5680433
>>5680423
>>5680410
[Locked and writing!]

>>5680784
As mushroom wine and conversation flow freely, you remember why you so enjoy the company of dark elves. They have that distinctive mammalian warmth about them—not only the literal sort thanks to their warmblooded metabolism, but the personal, social aptitude which the Master race has abandoned. Unlike their surface-dwelling brethren, though, the Drow are a people hardened by circumstance—made ruthless and pragmatic, as you and yours have been, but without losing their joy for life, or their capacity for love. Their society is not without problematic and bizarre elements, of course: there is their decentralized and haphazard politics, the decadence of their elite and the illiteracy of their underclass, and their incomprehensible ideas around sex and gender. Still, in Jazkarmel’s race you see something of what you wish for the world at large.

You can tell that Ekaterine is charmed as well, though the barriers of dialect and culture mean she cannot yet appreciate the company and conversation QUITE as readily as you other three. There is also the matter of her sobriety—you thought to offer her mushroom wine at first, but then remembered her developing foetus within, and thought better of it.

“So I’m to be the only one here not drinking?” she asks, pointedly.

You set your own mushroom cap mug down upon the simple table between you four in solidarity.

“The water down here is not very good,” Jazkarmel notes apologetically. “There is a way to deactivate the, ah… Fun? Silliness? I don’t know if that translates right… To make the wine not affect the senses and sensibilities.”

Your own tolerance for such substances is lower than that of a warmblood, anyway… Perhaps this course is for the best. Betetr for attending to more serious business.

“That would be lovely,” Ekaterine says with a smile, and bows her head. “Thank you, Princess Jazkarmel.”

Jazkarmel laughs her crystalline, shimmering laugh.

“Your new wife is so formal, Theral! It is adorable, like a little girl! Not built like one, though…”

Princess Ekaterine laughs nervous and flushes a little, adjusting her torn bodice a little self-consciously. You suppose the mushroom wine must be getting to the Drow Princess. The Archer’s raucous laugh reveals the same is true of him, though of course moreso: he has a Reptilian’s difficulty metabolizing these chemicals, just as you do. Despite this, he continues to match the pace of his elven lover. You laugh quietly, and make no comment—this trip is partly a reward for your loyal ally, after all. Let them have their fun and games!

Not ALL fun and games, though.

“How fares Wevenore?” you ask, as the visit continues and ‘small-talk’ is expended. “Has the reign of King Solinsyr been a good one, thus far?”

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>>5680820
Eka seems interested to hear more of that city as well—the oasis of Crystal and Silk, which you spun so many (lightly embellished) tales of, most especially its colourful cast of roguish noble-elves. Jazkarmel frowns and runs her fingers through her dark hair, closing her eyes a moment.

“Ugh.”

“It is that bad?” you ask, worried now.

“No, no,” the Drow is quick to reassure you. “It is not BAD, just… Not a smooth transition. Or not as smooth as it could be. Minothel and Corandiirn are still displeased with their loss, and though more noble houses and nearly all the low-born supported him thanks to you, they are less… Enthusiastic than before. It makes it easy for the princes to undermine him.”

“Why is this?” you ask, unhappy to think of the Aesthete Prince and Assassin Prince conspiring against the candidate who you worked so hard to install.

“Well, the promise of Solinsyr as king was that we would be opening up, expanding… Joining the, what did you call it? Dark Alliance? This was supposed to mean more food, more room to expand, more safety and more wealth. So far, it’s meant participation in the war against the Kobodl necromancer and the dwarves—”

“All things YOU approved, and for YOUR race’s benefit as well,” you quickly add.

Jazkarmel holds up a hand placatingly, and nods agreement.

“Still,” she says, “so far the impression which Solinsyr is creating as king… And which his rivals are spreading and propagating to anyone who will listen… Is that we are trading sovereignty to lizardmen, our souls to foreign ‘gods of evil’, and getting… Well, little back in return.”

Your tail lashes in annoyance at this, the hard spade-tip hitting the stone with a crack that startles Eka. You look at her and pat her hand apologetically.

“It has been less than a year,” you note. “It will take time…”

“And elves are long-lived, and used to things taking time,” Jazkarmel says. “It is just post-election instability and power-jockeying.”

There is a pregnant pause.

“But…?” you prompt her.

“But,” she agrees, “there is a ‘but’, yes. If there was good news from Bloodrise… Something tangible, a notable announcement and some war-prizes shipped back to Wevenore, or if our settlements there were ready to receive civilians and to engage in trade and diplomacy… That would be a tangible thing to flaunt in the face of the other princes.”

“Or King Solinsyr could simply deal with HIS dissenters as I dealt with the Necromancer you mentioned,” you point out.

(Or like how you dealt with the Appointed Successor, you privately reflect, fondling the hilt of the khopesh which the deceased usurper once held.)

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>>5680821
Jazkarmel’s eyes widen, and for a moment you fear you overstepped… But then she laughs, and reaches out to squeeze your shoulder.

“Dragons are so direct!” she teases you. “I like the way you think… But you want Wevenore stable, do you not? Civil war will get in the way of us sending you allies… Aside from all the reasons we’d dislike it. Solinsyr might not even win… And definitely not quickly, and without cost.”

You get her meaning. King Solinsyr lacks the support of enough of his people’s elite class to direct Wevenore as a unified political entity and make real gains. Overthrowing this shared power dynamic would ALSO take unification—of the soldier class, whoa re distributed among private militias of the various noble-houses. A frustrating circumstance, you imagine—or don’t need to imagine, as it frustrates your vision for how Wevenore might be integrated into your new Dark Empire as a vassal state as well. Ah, the flightiness of elves…

What will you do?
>Pledge to stabilize Bloodrise forthwith, and send invitation for the excess population of Wevenore to begin moving to the Drow-delineated territories therein
>Promise that you will send war-spoils and trade-goods back to Wevenore upon your return—ample enough to lend legitimacy to the neophyte King of Elves you there installed
>Offer military aid in imposing the new king’s new law—when the war in Bloodrise is finished, as you hope it soon will be—you will send your forces to help subjugate the rebellious elf-princes
>Write-in

>>5680822
>Promise that you will send war-spoils and trade-goods back to Wevenore upon your return—ample enough to lend legitimacy to the neophyte King of Elves you there installed

What Solinsyr has always wanted was trade, just give him what he wanted and promised.

>>5680822
>Promise that you will send war-spoils and trade-goods back to Wevenore upon your return—ample enough to lend legitimacy to the neophyte King of Elves you there installed

>>5680822
>Promise that you will send war-spoils and trade-goods back to Wevenore upon your return—ample enough to lend legitimacy to the neophyte King of Elves you there installed

>>5680822
>Promise that you will send war-spoils and trade-goods back to Wevenore upon your return—ample enough to lend legitimacy to the neophyte King of Elves you there installed, while keeping a careful tally of the goods sent. You are willing to support Solinsyr, but nothing is free in this world

>>5680822
>>Pledge to stabilize Bloodrise forthwith, and send invitation for the excess population of Wevenore to begin moving to the Drow-delineated territories therein

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>>5681059
>>5680960
>>5680862
>>5680851
>>5680850
“Nothing comes for free,” you say sternly, none-too-eager to become eternal financier to a lazy and stagnating dark elf vassal.

“Of course,” Jazkarmel says, smiling slightly and leaning back as if she already knows what is coming next.

“…But Wevenore has rendered aid to my kingdom, and I shall render it in kind to King Solinsyr. The war has generated profits, and I promise that some of these spoils will find their way to your race in turn.”

“Tell the Ambassador, not me,” Jazkarmel says wryly, but her smile broadens.

“Why are you so pleased?” The Archer asks, raising an eyebrow. “You are no fan of you almost-fiancé, last I checked.”

Jazkarmel scoffs, and slaps playfully at her lover’s back.

“I don’t care what riches he furnishes his bedchamber with, Olu,” she says to him. “Only that I get to do the same with MINE. And speaking of which…”

You take the hint, taking Ekaterine’s hand and beginning. It HAS been a long journey, and a long day. Ekaterine’s sleep schedule has been erratic, you noticed, without sunrise or sunset to regulate it; having been born and raised in the darkness below, you have no such trouble, and you know you are due your torpor. You will stay here another day—Jazkarmel’s comments throughout your little ‘dinner date’ summit drew your attention to how disheveled you and your company have become, and you have no intent to return to Bloodrise looking like some scruffy, mud-encrusted vagabonds. For now, though, you will rest.

With whom, though? Ekaterine seems to be a bit more at ease now, it’s true… But this environment is still a hostile one by its very nature to one such as her, and you cannot imagine leaving her alone among the somewhat xenophobic Drow soldiery will do much to mitigate that. The Novice Fleshweaver’s insecurities and suspicions surrounding the Human Princess will only grow if you don’t allot her time as well, though…

Ugh, polygamy is difficult, doubly so when your mates are not especially close . Why did nobody warn you?

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>>5681072
“Leaving so soon?”

You look up, blinking in confusion as Jazkarmel interrupts your thoughts.

“I… Thought you had implied…?”

Jazkarmel regards you curiously. You exchange a look with Eka, who looks just as confused as you—maybe more so.

“I had,” Jazkarmel says. “Implied.”

Olu’s expression shifts into one of plain panic, seeming to realize something before the rest of you. He motions in rapid Drow sign-language—he must have picked up some of silent speech, but Jazkarmel merely takes his hands in hers, then sensually slides a hand up to massage his shoulder. His eyes flit to you, looking deeply apologetic, and you sense his anxiety growing.

“I don’t think I understand,” Ekaterine interjects. “The, ah, dialect, maybe?”

“I am saying that it is time for me and my Olu to depart for my tent here,” Jazkarmel speaks slowly, enunciating the words carefully, “and that you two are welcome to join.”

“W-wait,” Ekaterine stammers, face and neck and even the uppermost part of her chest aflush with a crimson blush. “What?”

Suddenly, Jazkarmel’s commentary upon Ekaterine’s appearance takes on an entirely different and altogether unexpected meaning, and Oluwadamialre’s panic makes perfect sense. In fact, her forwardness about the diplomacy begins to make more sense, too—Jaz is never one for pretense or formality, but she’s only ever been so blunt in the past when she was quite intoxicated. And ‘blunt’ is an understatement, here, speaking on THIS matter!

“Drow Princess!” The Archer admonishes her, falling back into the Reptilian habit of substituting titles for names in his hurry to mend the situation. “Remember yourself! The Dragonborn will not—”

“Won’t he?” Jazkarmel asks, raising her eyebrow archly at you. “What does the Dragonborn think? And his… Blushing bride?”

This is getting entirely out of hand! And yet… Well, it’s certainly ONE form of stress-relief, and one Ekaterine could participate in, if she was so inclined. Ha! But as if she ever would…

…

Would she? Would YOU?

>Spend your torpor with Ekaterine
>Spend your torpor with the Fleshweaver
>Spend your torpor in Jazkarmel’s tent… With Jaz, Olu, and Eka
>Write-in

Pardon the goofy and lewd social vote (with, admittedly, some minor relationship implications and 'mechanical' affects). Been a while since we had one of these. Wonder what JiggleAnon has been up to?

>>5681075
>Spend your torpor with the Fleshweaver

As much as the orgy is enticing to the coomanons, Sszeth is still distant and we have some stuff to resolve with her. Most of Ekaterine's issues will be solved when she becomes familiar with her new life and routine.

>>5681075
>Write-in: Spend your torpor with no one, and instead peacefully meditate with big red on how one becomes an effective draconic ruler.

If we spend time with eka, novice will be peeved. If we spend time with the novice Eka will be distraught, its a lose lose situation.

So the only solution I see is to go back to our roots 2 years ago. When we would peacefully mediate on what it means to be a dragon, alongside our brother or by ourselves.

>>5681130
Backing this - but also, invite both women to meditate with us (if they want)

>>5681204
+1

>>5681075
>Spend your torpor in Jazkarmel’s tent… With Jaz, Olu, and Eka
if we can't drink the mushroom wine this is the next best thing
party time!

>>5681229
not sure if eka is gonna accept it that easily

>>5681246
just tell her it's dark elf culture and it would be disrespectful to refuse
easy

>>5681075
>Spend your torpor in Jazkarmel’s tent… With Jaz, Olu, and Eka
Honestly like Jaz and Olu- and we already impregnated, so no worries there. Let’s have a little fun!

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>>5681075
This >>5681130. The relationships must be stabilised.

Orgies? Blasphemous. To engage in such shallow hedonism is to debase the value of the title "Prince of Love".

>>5681130
Counterpoint- if we spend time doing diplomacy, no one will be peeved! Clearly diplomacy is the best option ;)

>>5681246
Honestly think she will friend- she open to new experiences, and an I like the idea of corrupting Eka further.

>>5681269
fine. mindbreak it is.

>>5681075
>Spend your torpor in Jazkarmel’s tent… With Jaz, Olu, and Eka

>>5681267
I disagree- is it was with strangers, then it’d be shallow. But these are people we respect and love- stands to reason that the Price of Love would go for it.

>>5681270
I appreciate your support friend

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>>5681270
>>5681267
>>5681259
>>5681204
>>5681229
>>5681130
>>5681093
[Not a HUGELY important vote, but it characterizes the MC and a waifu, and affects their relationship moving forward, and I know that has been a bone of contention in the past. Given how close it is, I'll leave this open until after work tomorrow.]

>>5681075
>Write-in: Spend your torpor with no one, and instead peacefully meditate with big red on how one becomes an effective draconic ruler.

>>5681075
>>Spend your torpor with Ekaterine
Unless she's interested in partaking in elven culture. Might as well as her opinion.

>>5681290
Was there a mis count i see three people backing mediate, one backing spending the night with novice?

>>5681290
I appreciate that RQM, and hope we get other chances at that Dragonborn/Jaz/Olu threesome and Eka corruption.

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>>5681305
[Nope. One meditate voter changed to back orgy, HaramAnon backed Novice.]

>>5681308
[I included it because it fit the tone of the scene and people had memed it before, but if it's turned down Jaz isn't so desperate for dragondick she'll keep pitching it. It isn't something I feel the need to try to force if people vote it down once.

>>5681310
why is it 0.5?

>>5681313
[see >>5681303. Main vote for Eka, but the commentary is 'hey, if she's down for group sex, group sex is cool too.']

>>5681075
>>5681130
Support

I would vote for Eka, but I really don't want the orgy to win. Fucking coombrains, I swear...

>>5681312
I’m sorry to hear that- I was always a Jaz fan, it’s a shame that a relationship with her had to be tied up with different waifu relationship.

>>5681317
[Polyamory is complicated, especially when you add in feelings and high-level international politics. It would be highly suspect for a QM to repeatedly try to force a waifu on the players once she's been turned down, though. Even Glowie had a plot reason, since she's a genestealer.]

>>5681316
[Good news is you're winning, now. A very neat write-in by >>5681130, by the way! I can see this being very fun as well. I appreciate all you anons, and if I was more sober I'd tally now and write. As it is: vote stays open for now, but I'm done answering between-vote questions and comments.]

>>5681320
It honestly seems to me that there was always strings attached to the Jaz relationship- and I do mean in the sense that there was always a different consideration involved that tended to nuke the idea. It’s a recurring writing tendency I’ve noticed.

Speaking to the other anons, this would be a way to get Eka on board the idea more firmly, and probably help Jax’s internal political position- getting intimate with the Princess of now one but two kingdoms makes her indispensable with the new Drow King, and solidifies her house’s position as well, especially considering that they’re trying to get diplomatic and trade going with the Surface-dwellers. Wouldn’t mind helping a friend and and ally out.

As for the Write In being fun? Maybe you’ll make it fun, but it honestly reads like it’s trying to distract us from making a choice rather than presenting one. At least >>5681204 ties to present a workable alternative.

Either way, hope you have a nice night RQM.

>>5681324
It combines the downsides of spending the night with Eka alone (the Fleshweaver won't like it), without the upsides of spending the night with Eka alone (confirming that we love her and want her, helping her with the transition from everything she knew to her new life)

The only real benefit is to Jaz, who is your waifu but not our wife and it comes at the expense of both of our actual wives who are present.

>>5681334
It has the upside of corrupting Eka, and I don’t think Eka feels like we need to reconfirm our love for each other right at this moment- hell, she’s probably even enjoy it and become less stressed as a result.

Meanwhile, meditating alone reaps us all the downsides of the three options (no one will like it) with none of the upsides (someone will like it).

>>5681338
>It has the upside of corrupting Eka
lol
lmao, even
>Meanwhile, meditating alone reaps us all the downsides of the three options (no one will like it) with none of the upsides (someone will like it).
Anon, you don't understand what makes a relationship like this work and why cooming in your waifu is a bad idea. It's the playing favourites with one girl or another that makes them not like it. Meditating is a perfect compromise because it doesn't play favourites at all, keeping the girls that are supposed to be in our heart in equal footing.

Meanwhile, the orgy with your waifu is terrible because it both plays favourites (We choose Eka over the Fleshweaver) AND doesn't play favourites (We choose a stranger who, I repeat, is your waifu but not our wife, over our Eka, our actual wife)

I'm not against threesomes and orgies in general, having one with Eka and the Fleshweaver would work nicely if the Fleshweaver had the slightest inclination at such a proposal, but this is a horrible idea that will damage our relationship with both girls who are supposed to come first in our life, with the only benefit being a shallow cooming.

>>5681290

>>5681130
>>5681204
Meditate

>>5681204
And yeah, I'll back inviting them both to meditate with us if they want

>>5681345
I don’t blame you for thinking the meditate option is the neutral option, but it is legitimately a write in copout mate.

Second, the orgy option isn’t choosing Jaz over Eka, it choosing to have a bit of fun with both of them and Olu- it isn’t going to result in Eka hating us, despite your worst fears.

Third, I honestly believe your overthinking it- RQM even said this isn’t hugely important, he just wants us to be aware that this affects characterization (obviously) and minor relationship implications. I understand your anxiety, but this isn’t something that will nuke our relationship with either girls, or seriously injure it- this isn’t a Coming Out to Edwin tier decision, this is explicitly goofy and lewd social decision, it won’t be the end of the world to engage in some minor fun.

>>5681310
Can we ask Eka her thoughts on the request? I think shed be open to meditation since shes seen a dark god already she may already be open to seeing more, but I do think its good we take her feelings into account because maybe she does want some drow pussy

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>>5681348
[Updated totals! I woke up earlier than usual, but I promised to leave this vote open 'til after work, so I will. We still don't have a majority vote for any option, anyway]

>>5681324
>strings attached to the Jaz relationship
[I've attached strings to every relationship option, anon. It's on purpose! Writing an uncomplicated relationship is less fun and doesn't afford me as many jumping off points for meaningful votes and character development. Without a complication, limitation, or implication, it would render such votes as just "do you want to have happy sex with a person who loves you and unconditionally supports you, who everyone approves of? Y/N" which is a wonderful thing in real life but doesn't really seem like a meaningful and compelling questing decision or vibe well with the spirit of this quest for me, you know?]

>As for the Write In being fun?
[There is something inherently funny to me about a guy with a harem of waifus being invited by a sexy elf princess to a tantric group sex party, only for him to be like 'lol, no way. come on, wives, we're going to go stoically meditate.' It's just a funny way to characterize Theral.]

>>5681345
>>5681360
>>5681438
[While the choice here may affect the MC's preferences and the way he and his friends/lovers relate to one another in short and long-term ways, it won't torpedo any relationship. Likewise, having repeatedly made it clear in votes that Theral values Ekaterine's consent well, kind of no vote will result in her being forced into anything against her will. This is just a vote to determine how Theral approaches relationships/sex/favoritism in his increasingly-weird harem/polycule, and how 'intimate' his close friendships with the likes of Jaz and Olu become.]

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[I am both surprised and pleased about how much thought everyone's putting into this and how invested people seem to be in the characters and relationship dynamics outside of empire-building and power-scaling, though. It's very gratifying as an author and QM. Enjoy these WIPs of Karz and Olu in the meantime! The artist is Tigandra.]

>>5681480
lmao karz looks like he's 12
aren't dwarves supposed to be thicc?

>>5681562
He's an incel who does virgin shit like sing it fits for him to be malnourished and gaunt. He's not not a chad thick thighed dwarven warrior who gets all the dwarussy

>>5681476
Maybe funny to you, but we all know the write in was created to wiggle out of a choice anons made bigger in there heads than was warranted. Making mountains outta molehills and all that.

Unrelated, I do hope JiggleAnon is alright- it’s been awhile since we’ve seen him.

>>5681480
Neato!

>>5681562
[See the first update of the thread.]

>>5681682
[I personally consider it a legitimate write-in, and am amused. That's all.]

>>5681867
Yeah I read his description but I mainly took away beardlessness, I didn't think it was that bad.

>>5681480
Im not gonna lie, the dwarf apprentice looks more like a halfing or something than a true dwarf. No wonder he got bullied by his old community.

>>5681480
Cool art, I always imagined Karz as bald for some reason lol

>>5681348
>>5681349
>>5681316
>>5681303
>>5681299
>>5681270
>>5681267
>>5681259
>>5681229
>>5681204
>>5681130
>>5681093
You suppress the pang of <appetite> which this suggestion incites. There was indeed a time when you were somewhat enamoured with Jazkarmel, and would have gladly taken her up on such an offer… But something as always in the way, and it was never a priority. Even now, there is the uncertainty which comes with Oluwadamilare and Ekaterine’s discomfort—is it temporary, or will such a lascivious event forever change the dynamic of your friendship with the former, and your marriage to the latter? And what will the NOVICE make of all this, when she inevitably discovers it with those damnable Serpent priestess wiles of hers?

No, polygamy was ALREADY too complicated, without adding… THIS… to the mix.

“I, uh, must decline your gracious offer, Drow Princess,” you say, haltingly and a little overformal. “I have other plans, with my wives.”

You se Ekaterine’s shoulders slump in relief, and Olu, too, releases a held breath and a great dela of tension. Jazkarmel, for her part, merely lolls her head to the side in such a way that her silken hair covers one eye, and then blows it aside. She really is QUITE drunk, but her movements are still smooth, graceful, in that uncanny elven manner.

“Oh ho hooo,” she laughs. “I see. ‘Plans with the wives’, hm? It seems great minds think SOEMWHAT alike, Dragon King Theral.”

Ekaterine stiffens again and looks to you with an expression of grave concern.

“Have fun!” Jaz says.

You bow your head respectfully, and take you leave Jazkarmel does not beg or plead, simply waving playfully goodbye and turning her attentions—almost predatory—towards your Archer.

“Now where did we leave off, so many months ago?” the Drow asks the Degenerate as you depart, and Olu laughs with more nervousness than even when facing a beats of legend.

You envy and pity the male at the same time. With considerable effort, you push the mental image of the delicious and exhausting gymnastics which elven sex must entail rom your mind.

Eka is quiet as the two for you find your own assigned lodging for the evening—a rough tent of patchwork silk, held rigid by a tall and thin mushroom-stalk made dry and rigid and reinforced with chitin panels.

“Um, Theral, what Princess Jazkarmel said…” your Human Princess finally works up the courage to speak, a you near. “You don’t really mean for, for me and the, ah, and ‘Teharissa’ to… To do THAT, do you?”

“Do what?”

>>5682101
The Novice Fleshweaver’s fine-clawed fingers part the tent, her elegant features merging and her long neck following. To your surprise, she has already abandoned her red-and-white cloak, mark of a novice member of her order, for a thin and rather sheer robe of spider-silk, which clings about her flat chest, swanlike neck, and hangs loosely about her wide hips and thick tail.

You and Ekaterine both stare, with Ekaterine’s face gradually warming and reddening as it did before.

“…WHAT?!” Demands the Fleshweaver, eventually.

“You look good,” you say simply.

“Y-you don’t really mean to—” begin Ekaterine, her voice tinged with panic.

“You two,” you command, “follow me. We will need privacy.”

The two of them follow you, exchanging a confused glance. Eka, unable to stifle her flushed embarrassment and mortified even more by direct eye-contact with her Reptilian counterpart, quickly looks away; the Novice, taking this for a show of deference, lifts her head high and cackles with the pleasure of the dominant. Ekaterine only squirms more are this, and shrinks down as if to make herself small beneath notice.

You have to admit to taking some small pleasure in this entire spectacle, but only inwardly. Aloud, you say:

“This placcce will do.”

“H-here?!” Ekaterine balks. “it’s just a… A cave! The floor is… I mean, it’s…”

You and the Novice Fleshweaver look down at her, and she quiets to a whisper.

“It’s dirty, and cold.”

“Free of dissstractionsss,” you say, “from the tasssk before usss.”

Ekaterine is red-in-the-face once more, but the Novice is simply irritated. She taps a foot, and her tail lashes.

“What tasssk is that, Needlesssssly Enigmatic One?” she demands.

You turn to the two females—your wife, and your childhood love, both Beloved Ones and integral to your life. You know Ekaterine needs special attention at this time—comfort, peace—but also that the Novice has felt sidelined and neglected, and fears Ekaterine’s growing influence over you. You cannot choose between them, and it would damn you in the eyes of one to show even the APPEARANCE of favoritism to other. It was another factor in your turning down of Jazkarmel’s… Proposal.

You are not Prince of LUST, after all, but of LOVE.

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>>5682103
“When the Red Dragonborn were lossst, sseparated from one another and from their Dragon Ssspirit, unable to cooperate and to sssee their sssimilaritiess and common caussse, it wasss meditation that bridged their divide and made them whole.”

It’s the Novice Fleshweaver’s turn to be mortified now.

“No,” she says. “Oh, you absolute… You FREAK. You WEIRDO. You can’t mean to make usss do THAT?!”

“What?” Ekaterine almost screams, clutching at her ragged-hemmed dress and wrapping her arms protectively around her torso. “Do what?!”

You meet first the Novice’s eyes, then Eka’s… And then you sit down, cross-legged.

“…W-what?” Ekaterine whispers.

“Come, “ you say, patting the stone before you. “Let usss meditate together, on what it meansss to be powerful, wissse, majessstic, and good—TRULY good.”

The Novice Fleshweaver lowers her face into her hands, and deflates like a punctured air-bladder.

“Let usss meditate,” you declare, “on our shared DRAGON SSSPIRIT!”

“I hate you,” the Novice hisses. “I abssolutely dessspisse you. Do you know thisss, Degenerateborn?"

“Ah… I…” Ekaterine mumbles, unintelligible, then plops down unceremoniously and hastily tucked her legs in, staring down at the stone below.

“…What did you THINK thisss idiot meant?” the Novice demands.

Ekaterine is silent and, eventually relenting to your will, the Novice seats herself as well.

In the end, you're not sure how much progress is made on the females' attainment of a Dragon Soul, but they DO seem a little closer, to you and each other. It's not exactly a night of uninhibited orgasms and moaned-and-whispered elven eroticism... but in some ways, in the ways that matter, it is more meaningful.

>>5682105
You awaken the next day with a female on either side of you—a testament to the good work done last night, or perhaps just to how much both these creatures desire your warmth in this damp and drafty realm. The Novice clings possessively to your flank, tail draped over you, curling only to avoid direct contact with Ekaterine—herself curled up, still small, and fragile, but deliciously warm herself, against your chest and loins.

<Appetite> stirs again.

“Hmm… Long Wang…” Ekaterine murmurs in her sleep, and fidgets needily against your hemipenes.

And idea occurs, and you begin to shift into position, claws on her creamy and mammal-smooth thighs, when…

“Really?” the Novice asks, witheringly, in the True Speech. “I’m RIGHT here, you realize?”

You pause, and sighs, and relent. One step at a time, you suppose…

When at last the mammal among you has woken from her longer slumber, you and the Novice are already awake and enjoying breakfast—salted cave-fish meat and diluted mushroom-wine, rather bland but a sight better than the ever-more-scarce trail rations of days prior. Eka joins you, by now mostly cured of her earlier squeamishness among such dire sustenance.

“We should leave,” the Novice mutters.

“We should get proper clothing, first,” you counter.

“I am already well-attired,” the Novice counters. “Or… Well enough. I have robes-of-office in my quarters in the mountains.”

“Ekaterine has nothing of the sssort tehre,” yousay, switching to a tongue the Human princess can follow. “She isss a Dragon King’sss bride, and should be introduccced ass ssuch. Firsst impression are important.”

Eka seems flattered by this, though she mumbles something humble about not needing anything extravagant.

“And the locals clearly have a… Relative paucity of fabric, judging by their… Well yes.”

“Elvesss are jussst like that,” the Novice sniffs haughtily. “Shamelessss creaturesss.”

“You wore nothing but an Amulet of Disguise the firssst night we sslept in the sssame bed,” you point out.

“I wasss disssguissed asss an ELF!” the Novice protests.

“I will not return to Bloodrise in dirty rags,” you assert in the True Speech, settling the matter.

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>>5682119
“Whatever,” the Novice hisses. “I suppose the Drow have sssome ssartorial ssensse…”

“I… Think I only half-understand what’s happening,” Ekaterine admits. “Again.”

You nearly smile, before remembering how ape-folk normally react to you doing that in your true form. Instead, you simply ask:

“How would you like to go shopping, and exxxplore the local art and culture, Princccessss Ekaterine?”

What sort of attire do you plan to commission?
>Something human-like—modest in cut, fine in detail and pattern, and regal, conveying your victory over the humans by co-opting their cultural dress as you introduce their captured princess
>Something dark elven—leather, silk, spikes and straps, and plenty of skin; comfortable, flexible, freeing, good for transforming and for feats of athletics, as well as with a touch of sensuality
>Something Reptilian—practical and martial, imposing and intimating, communicating the Master Race's draconian authority and dominance, and protecting you all to the utmost beneath what chitin and iron can be here mustered
>Write-in

>>5682121
This chapter was hilarious i must say qm.

>Something Reptilian—practical and martial, imposing and intimating, communicating the Master Race's draconian authority and dominance, and protecting you all to the utmost beneath what chitin and iron can be here mustered.

>>5682177
[Glad you enjoyed! It was an amusing one to write. I rather enjoy the dynamic of these three.]

>>5682101
*great deal of tension
*when facing a beast of legend
*courage to speak, as you near
>>5682105
*hastily tucks her legs in
>>5682119
*pause, and sigh, and relent

>>5682121
>Something Reptilian—practical and martial, imposing and intimating, communicating the Master Race's draconian authority and dominance, and protecting you all to the utmost beneath what chitin and iron can be here mustered.
Think its important we dress in good traditional return/victory regalia on our return home, may even be able to hitch a ride from a bug for a grand entrance

>>5682190
+1
A triumphant return to form. Though let's not make thinks too hard and spiky. Wouldn't want to bruise the lovely ladies. Maybe the chitin can be sewed under a layer of leather padding.

>>5682121
>>Something Reptilian—practical and martial, imposing and intimating, communicating the Master Race's draconian authority and dominance, and protecting you all to the utmost beneath what chitin and iron can be here mustered
>Somewhat incorporing fine details and pattern to assert our victory over the human

>>5682121
>Something human-like—modest in cut, fine in detail and pattern, and regal, conveying your victory over the humans by co-opting their cultural dress as you introduce their captured princess
>Something Reptilian—practical and martial, imposing and intimating, communicating the Master Race's draconian authority and dominance, and protecting you all to the utmost beneath what chitin and iron can be here mustered
A combination of the two. A sign of our victory, a sign of our mixed heritage, a sign of the empire to come and something to appeal to both our human and our reptilian wife.

>>5682184
I thoroughly enjoyed it as well, QM.

>>5682233
Supporting - I like the mix

It should communicating the Master Race's draconian authority and dominance - but also her natural human femininity and noble bearing

>>5682184
If youre on pc / tablet you can tick the box of the message and select “delete” button at the bottom of thr page

It will delete the update if youre quick enough

>>5682233
+1 to this combination.

>>5682121
>Something Reptilian—practical and martial, imposing and intimating, communicating the Master Race's draconian authority and dominance, and protecting you all to the utmost beneath what chitin and iron can be here mustered.

Eka needs all the protection she can get

>>5682121
>>5682233 sounds good. A truly imperial set of clothes.

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>>5682331
[Alas, I was too late, and also someone had already voted.]

>>5682233
[Thanks for the kind words, anon.]

>>5682637
>>5682635
>>5682334
>>5682278
>>5682233
>>5682229
[Writing!]

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>>5682725
‘Shopping’ might be an overstatement, in the end. This is the scouting encampment of a race just as deprived as your own. It isn’t as if there is a bustling fashion scene present, and you do not have the time to travel all the way to Wevenore. Among the soldiers here, even JAZKARMEL us relatively simple in her materials and accoutrement, and she is the ranking officer and reigning noblewoman of the camp. Still, you muster what chitin and metal can be scrounged by the dark-skinned Drow. Your coins—hardly enough to add meaningfully to your hoard back home, but still valuable here—pay most of the way, and the tarnished weapons and armour taken from ‘liberated’ corpses in the rock-monsters’ grotto are useful sources of copper and iron.

“Make something for each of us three,” you instruct the dark elf artisans.

If you cannot treat your wives to a shopping spree, you can double down on the ‘arts and culture’ aspect of this excursion. The Novice is loudly bored and critical as ever—or pretends to be, even as she constantly finds excuses to interject her own design sensibilities into the manufacture of her new attire in proven Dark Elven—while Ekaterine is openly fascinated to watch the skilled feyfolk at work. These elves are a strange sort to her, and they lack the wealth of materials and formal academia of their surface-kin, but not even the most bigoted dwarf (or Reptilian) could deny the natural aptitude of the elven race for making fine things. If they are less skilful craftsmen than the dwarves, it is only because of the dominance of their aesthetic sense—the need to make things flowing, and graceful, or to experiment with style. You give them extra challenge-appreciated, you believe—as well.

“Make it… martial. Powerful. Imposing. Armoured!”

“Even for me?” Ekaterine asks, surprised and a little embarrassed when you nod.

“You will need all the protection you can get,” you say, and she pales a little; realizing your error, you squeeze her should in promised support.

“Do not bother with mine,” the Novice sniffs. “I don’t need ssuch sssilliness. I am a Sserpent Priesstessss.”

“You’ll protect yourself, you mean?” asks the Princess of Hawksong. “Or… Your status is such you fear none of your people will ever dare attack you?”

“No,” the Novice scoffs, and points to you. “I will enssure he isss between be and any threat. Either he’ll triumph, as he SOMEHOW alwayss sseems to, or he’ll ssslow them down long enough for me to essscape. It’sss hiss JOB, you know.”

“…Ah.”

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>>5682749
You suppose you should be annoyed, but when you filter our the Novice Fleshweaver’s natural tendency to insult and vitriol, it ACTUALLY sounds like a vote of confidence, and an admission that she relies upon you… Doubly appreciated given your near-failure to offer that very protection against the Goliath and its rock-monster minions on your way here. Having been captured and nearly killed, still she speaks of your aptitude as protector and defender. Honestly, you’re almost flattered!

“Thank you,” you whisper in the True Speech.

The Novice gives you a critical look, and huffs.

“Well, we have not died yet,” she replies. “And the Gods Below and Beyond know you have provided us ample opportunity to do so.”

This makes you think of Ivno—still half-preserved by the Novice’s dark magic, wrapped in rags in the layered, sunken tent where the Drow keep their trash to avoid attracting scavengers. Your brief melancholy for his loss is broken by Eka’s voice, though.

“Should we send for Oluwadamilare?” she asks. “We are all getting new clothes, but not him… It seems mean, doesn’t it?”

The Novice laughs, and answers: “He’s a ssservant! A Degenerate! He won’t exxpect anything, nor should he.”

You think back to the previous day, and reflect that—having not seen Olu since then—there is a good chance he is still inside the Drow Princess’ tent—possibly, in fact, still inside the Drow Princess.

“He will get something another day,” you say. “Let us not bother him just now.”

The Novice looks at you in confusion, but Ekaterine blushes slightly and nods, getting your meaning quickly.

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>>5682750
You describe the armour you once wore upon leaving Bloodrise—styled after the skeletal appearance of Death Himself, with a fear-inducing helm and an imposing chestplate and pauldrons. Of course, the more you describe it, the more you realize that no such attire would truly fit Ekaterine or the Novice, and as you concede to their anatomy and stylistic preferences, you ALSO realize how your own have shifted. As you have embraced certain aspects of your human heritage, and spent nearly two months disguised as Long Wang the human adventurer, you have come to enjoy aspects of their attire as well—most especially, the armour of the Paladin King, your so-called ‘father-in-law’ now and the only human being you have ever encountered with a <Fearsome Presence>. You decide to incorporate aspects of the Hawksong royal family’s style into your designs, as well.

Of course, between these very specific requirements and the fact that there is nothing partly-made in the camp which can even be modified to fit the likes of you and the Novice Fleshweaver thanks to your much greater stature, the three of you are ‘forced’ to wait in camp for several more days. In truth, it is welcome respite. Ekaterine grows ever more relaxed, even if you notice her sleep schedule remains erratic and she seems to be suffering physical and mentally for the constant darkness. You do your best to take care of her, even drafting the Novice into the effort with her tonics and potions. Repeated meditations help keep your minds fresh and clear; subsequent discussions of theology and morality, of Bloodrise and Wevenore, and of your future plans for how to justly and righteously rule it all bring the three of you closer more often than they splinter you apart, with your carefully-curated guidance.

You think you rather enjoy being at the centre of a three-way snuggle, even if any other sort of ‘three-way action’ still seems a rather distant prospect with these two. Sex, you reflect, is not everything there is to relationships.

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>>5682752
Eventually, the work is done, your armour completed. Each of you is first given a grey-white undershirt and breaches—over which each of you is fitted with some form of armour—though, in the Novice’s case, much light. There is armour, horned and crowned helms fit for true Lords and Ladies—maybe even a King and his Queens. Chitinous chestplates and pauldrons, moulded for musculature and adorned with beaten copper adorn your shoulders and shoulders, while banded mail protects your bellies—our own made with the bands spaced further apart, and your chest-armour looser-fit, to allow for <Dragonshape> transformations. Each of you is given ghoul-leather gloves, specially-treated to make them soft and died burgundy in mushroom-wine, and each of you given a cowl—like a Paladin knight, or a Serpent Priest.

“Ah!” Ekaterine gasps when she sees herself in a basin of wine-water, flinching at first and then staring in fascination. “I look like, like some sort of… Evil queen!”

“A Queen of Darknessss,” you assure her. “Beautiful and terrible to the wicked and decadent, but not evil.”

“B-beautiful…” she murmurs, running fingers over her armour and twirling a little.

“Pathetic,” the Novice scoffs at her behaviour, even as she cranes her neck and quirks her thigh to take in her own robes, cowl, and slim chest-piece with secreted vanity.

You regard yourself as well, not preening but silently appreciating the work of the elves—and yourself. This is YOUR design, after all! You brandish your khopesh, hold it aloft, and imagine directing a tidal-wave of warriors with such a gesture—to take this world and make it yours, ALL of yours!

It will be good to return home, and to survey your kingdom once more.

You send Olu the Archer for the deceased kobold’s mortal remains, and say your farewells. Olu and Jaz linger longer upon that last note than the rest of you, of course, and you allow it—you leave with two loves of your life, while he leaves his behind yet again…

Is there anything you wish to do before you depart?
>Take one more night in a tent with only your two wives—and attempt to seduce them
>Leave Oluwadamilare here as a… Liaison, of sorts… So he might stay with Jazkarmel for a longer stay
>Get your khopesh appraised by Jazkarmel—you’re curious what it does
>Send a message to your ambassador in Wevenore—the Elf-Specialist [what instructions will you convey?]
>Speak to Jaz about something else [what?]
>No, hurry back to Bloodrise—you’ve tarried long enough

>>5682753
>No, hurry back to Bloodrise—you’ve tarried long enough
That kopesh is a state secret

We can ask Olu how he'd feel about permanent liasonhood after Bloodrise matters are settled.

>>5682753
>Get your khopesh appraised by Jazkarmel—you’re curious what it does.

We don't want to rely on a magic blade when we don't know what it does.

>>5682753
>Get your khopesh appraised by Jazkarmel—you’re curious what it does

We need to know what it does

>>5682753
>Take one more night in a tent with only your two wives—and attempt to seduce them
Gotta work on their working relationship.
>Hey Jaz, I want you to take a look at my sword…. did I get a stain on my pants or something?
XD

>>5682753
>Get your khopesh appraised by Jazkarmel—you’re curious what it does

>>5682753
>>Get your khopesh appraised by Jazkarmel—you’re curious what it does

>>5682753
>Get your khopesh appraised by Jazkarmel—you’re curious what it does
Shouldn't take long

>>5682753
>>Get your khopesh appraised by Jazkarmel—you’re curious what it does
Only if it doesn't take too long. Otherwise it will keep, we have places to be.

>>5682753
>Get your khopesh appraised by Jazkarmel—you’re curious what it does.

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>>5682998
>>5682849
>>5682832
>>5682830
>>5682788
>>5682780
>>5682775
>>5682768
>>5682755
You don’t want to waste much more time here. Well… maybe ‘waste’ is the wrong word. You’ve undoubtedly enjoyed the time spent here, as you always do, but Bloodrise calls out to you! Nor can you afford to leave the Archer here, not knowing what might await you on the home-front. Still, there is ONE more thing you must do… Which, you hope, will not take long.

“Princess Jazkarmel,” you say, “I require one more service of you, while I am here.”

The elven leader quirks an eyebrow, but nods. You follow her to have your aside and, once there, you ask of her:

“I would ask you to examine my sword.”

“I thought you turned that offer down already,” she jokes.

You tilt your head in confusion, but this only seems to make her laugh.

“The strange scimitar, you mean, right?”

“Yes… What else would I have meant?”

“Obviously,” she agrees, smiling even wider, and beckons you tod raw your blade.

You oblige her, and present it. Jazkarmel bends her head, scrutinizing it closely and running fingertips along it.

“May I?”

You nod, and she takes it in both hands, tracing the queer metal of the Reptilian-crafted weapon. Sized and weighted to be a one-handed blade for a Serpent Priest, it actually has a much more natural heft n your hand than even your long-beloved moon-blade. Still, it does not do to go into battle with a weapon you don’t fully understand. Hopefully Jazkamel’s magical acumen is enough to uncover the secrets of the khopesh.

It is no hurried process, of course—it takes over an hour—but it is well worth it.

“I sense an aura of… Finality,” she answers after a time. “Abjuration, necromancy…”

“Necromancy?” you ask, cringing at the thought of further offending The Lord of Endings with such abhorrent (to him) magic.

Jazk only laughs, and places her hand comfortingly on yours.

“Not that sort. It puts the bed back to bed, not wakes them. It is meant to banish, to dissolve enchantments and end their effects. This is what I sense.”

That… Sounds like a potent weapon indeed. An anti-magic blade, meant to destroy magical enchantments and their effects? A part of you is VERY glad you took pains to slay its former owner without facing him directly… What would such a weapon have down to you <Dragonshape>, or your <Aura of Radiance>, or any other powerful and transformative effect upon which you’ve come to rely? But in your hands…

“Thank you,” you say, genuinely, taking the weapon back and admiring it anew. “This is a great and terrible weapon. I will wield it well, in service of the New Age of Darkness.”

“I’m sure,” Jazkarmel says, bemused at your seriousness.

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>>5683479
Her amusement dips at little at the edge of her lips though, and her brow furrows, just a little.

“About my… When I was drunk. With Olu, ad your wife…”

Ah.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she apologizes. “Or… it was just a passing fancy.”

“Do not trouble yourself,” you reassure her. “I know it’s just your culture.”

There is a pause, and Jazkarmel laughs again, and shakes her head. Something about your response seems to amuse her further.

“You really are something else, Theral,” she says.

“I am one of a kind,” you boast.

“You really, really are,” she agrees. “Safe travels, Dragon King.”

It costs you nearly another half-day to appraise your weapon, but you simply walk faster to make up for it—as fast s your Human Princess can keep up, at least. She remains easily the slowest of you, with even less athletic ability or stamina than the Novice Fleshweaver. It is no matter: when your party stops to rest, it gives you time to practice with the Usurper’s Khopesh and thus familiarize yourself with the implement AND fulfill your duty of self-improvement to your patron deity.

It is only a few more days’ travel before you arrive in the familiar caverns below the Bloodrise Mountains. You can hardly hold back your excitement to see the place again after all this time, and to share its splendour and glory with your human bride—as well as to learn what ahs become of your lieutenants, your sons, your apprentice, and of course Glowie.

The first to detect your presence are not the expected kobold miners, though, but dwarves… And not dwarven slaves, either, by their bearing, but freedmen. ‘Duergar’, without slaves to mind, but instead just more workers. You are actually on-guard at first, suspecting invasion for a moment, for you recognize no face and see none of the fearful deference which you beat into them and cleaved from their over-proud spirits…

“He’s back!”

“The Dragon King has returned!”

…But no, they recognize you and rejoice at your return. Curious. These dwarves lead you up and out of the underdark, to the caverns of the mountains proper, until you find the well-worn and well-hewn caverns of the Blodorise Kobodls—by now expanded yet further, hewn into less naturalistic form than the den which the kobolds once occupied, in a style reflective of influences elven and dwarven.

Something feels… Strange.

What will you do first?
>Repatriate Ivno’s body to the Kobolds of Bloodrise
>Summon your council, and ask them what has happened here
>Speak with the people—these dwarves, the dark elves, and the kobolds if you can find any—to learn about these changes
>See Glowie—she will give you the most honest and forthright explanation, and you’d like to see your sons
>Show Eka to her new quarters, and familiarize her with this place—the rest can wait
>Write-in

>>5683481
>Summon your council, and ask them what has happened here.

Our companion's can give us a direct briefing on the current military situation. Also we are going to have organize and set up the planed coup/war against the serpent priesthood.

>>5683481
>Speak with the people—these dwarves, the dark elves, and the kobolds if you can find any—to learn about these changes
or
>See Glowie—she will give you the most honest and forthright explanation, and you’d like to see your sons
Ivno should be second on our list.

Shame that Jaz couldn’t come with us btw.

>>5683481
>Repatriate Ivno’s body to the Kobolds of Bloodrise
sorry guys but he died as he lived
a meatshield for the more important characters

>>5683481
>Speak with the people—these dwarves, the dark elves, and the kobolds if you can find any—to learn about these changes

But first, a grand (but short) speech to our people highlighting how our travels have helped the Kingdom

>>5683481
>Repatriate Ivno’s body to the Kobolds of Bloodrise

>>5683481
>>Repatriate Ivno’s body to the Kobolds of Bloodrise
>Speak with the people
We've kept him on ice long enough. Maybe make a speech of his bravery? Does he have next of kin?

>>5683481
>Repatriate Ivno’s body to the Kobolds of Bloodrise

Our honored dead are a priority.

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>>5683535
>>5683527
>>5683521
>>5683500
>>5683493
>>5683490
>>5683486
[Writing! May take a bit: gonna' try to repurpose an update I STARTED writing last night as part of the last one, before realizing I was approaching novel-tier and had missed a good stopping-point for a vote.]

>>5684038
Your honoured dead come first—an Ivno has waited long enough. Before anything else, you will see that his commitment, loyalty, and sacrifice are given their due.

“Gather my people,” you command the dwarves. “Drow, Duergar, koboldss and thosse of the Master Racce. All shall hear thisss.”

The dwarven warriors snap to attention, which is reassuring at least amidst the strangeness of their appearance and demeanor. They hurry off, and you stride towards the open space where you once fought Agno for the heart of the Bloodrise kobold clan and tamed the basilisk—the place where judgements are meted out, victims sacrificed, and the Dark Gods and their servants find honour. It is a familiar place even ow, and you feel Something here—something like a homecoming in truth. You are Copper Dragon King, and this is your court.

At your kingly command—well, friendly request, really—the Novice Fleshweaver and Archer unfurl the corpse of Ivno the Kobold. His scute-studded flesh is pallid and sweaty, as a kobold never is in life, and greyer than once it was. His eyes are shriveled, body stiff, I spite of your Beloved One’s magic—but he still looks rather fresh for so many days of travel, and the places where bones were broken, legs askew, ribs cave and skull fractured, and skin blistered, bruised, and broken… All that is repaired to a degree of presentability. He looks… Peaceful.

He did not die peacefully.

Rolled 5, 16, 12, 8, 19 = 60 (5d20)

>>5684049
Gradually, the myriad races of your multicultural Kingdom of Darkness gather. There are, indeed, more dwarves than you remember… Many of whom you are CERTAIN you are seeing for the first time. You feel on-guard for it. Your mind race—conquered slaves, so rapidly promoted to soldier status? Some are even armed-armed! In your presence! In the kobolds’ own lair! The other races—most especially the kobolds and those few members of the Master Race who you employ here—look rather uncomfortable about it as well… But none can argue with numbers, and all are currently far more focused upon you.

Many shout or cheer to see your return, with kobolds and dwarves bowing or falling in supplication, and Drow and goddess-touched ‘Drowgon’ singing brief songs of glorious return. Only some fall silent when they see the dead body of your kobold servant laid out before you—though among them, you make out Agno in particular, stricken with rigor mortis of the face, to match his one-time friend, ally, and fellow miner and raider. They were close, you recall. Is he maybe next-of-kin?

“I am back,” you state simply, to raucous cheers. “And I return victorioussss!”

As the celebrants quiet, you continue: “But victory hass come at a cossst. The lif eof thisss kobold, firssst of hiss kind to rise to me ssservicce… And to perish, protecting hisss king and thisss new world we are working to create!”

The dwarves and elves cheer at this, though the koblds are more muted. Suddenly, you worry about displeasure-even rebellion. Ivno’s appointment to your retinue served an important symbolic service: it showed the kobolds that there was a future in their loyalty to you—advancement, glory, respect, status in a greater whole. What will they think to see their race’s champion, dead at your feet?

Your eyes flit back to Agno, automatically, as barometer for the coming storm...

>>5684050
>19
You needn’t have worried. To your amazement, Agno is not seething angrily, nor wailing in protest and outrage… But staring at Ivno with chin eye, eyes hard., , posture… proud.

He’s proud of his friend.

Agno lifts his eyes to you, then, and raises his fists high above his little head.

“Live for the Dragon!” he cries out in the curious local dialect of Reptilian True Speech. “Die for the Dragon!”

You blink, startled, but one by one…

“Live for the Dragon!”

“Die for the Dragon!”

“Kill for the Dragon!”

“Rise with the Dragon!”

…The kobolds cry out these declarations, lifting fists high. Your tail swishes automatically in uncertainty, but gradually you understand what is happening—this is some sort of… Ancestral chant, or ritual, passed down (albeit in some bastardized form, you’d imagine) from when these lesser Reptilians were slaves of the Red Dragon King and his fellows. They are submitting, fully and completely, taking Ivno’s death not as reason to mistrust you… But proof of his service, and this ceremony—your acknowledgement of this lowly member of a born slave race, as evidence that you are keeping their word.

“Yes!” your roar out, now in the True Speech, lifting both hands above your head and balling them in fists, to mirror your subjects. “He died as he lived—a hero! A champion of kobolds! He died in honour, will be laid to rest in honour… Will sink Below or ascend Beyond, and have his soul EMBARCED… In HONOUR! In GLORY! His name remembered—like Paeris the Bard, like Davora the Herbalist, as a heroic FOUNDER of the Coming Age!”

The dwarves and dark elves now seem lost, but the kobolds shriek and scream in jubilation, and some even jump up and down. Their enthusiasm is infectious. How much of this is the <Voice of the Metatron>, even now slightly colouring your speech? Regardless, it’s time to decide what to tell the REST of your people…

>>5684063
You decided a year prior that your common-tongue here, among these disparate races, was to be the Northern Common-tongue. That means, to address the throng and tell them tales of your derring-do and your time away, you must speak a language which Princess Ekaterine can ALSO understand… As she stands here, next to you, surveying the crowd of strange-to-her, inhuman faces with confusion and awe. And in that crowd… There are also Reptilians loyal to the Serpent priesthood—even a Serpent Priest, in the Translator’s case!

What will you tell the people, and what will you hold back?
[Vote only for what elements you wish to include. Only those 50% or more of voters vote for will be included. Choose as many as you want. Backlink your 1post votes.]
>Your acts to protect Bloodrise from its enemies
>Your slaying of The Green Knight and his allies
>Your alliance with a Greater Demon
>Your brainwashing and manipulation of key figures in Hawksong
>Your humiliation of Prince Alexos
>Your later slaying of Prince Alexos
>Your defiance of the Serpent Priests
>Your elimination of The Appointed Successor and his entourage
>Your marriage to Ekaterine
>Ekaterine's pregnancy with a Demigod of Darkness
>Appoint Ekaterine officially Queen of Bloodrise
>Appoint the Novice Fleshweaver officially your Priestess-Queen
>Something else [what?]

>>5684064
>Your acts to protect Bloodrise from its enemies
>Your slaying of The Green Knight and his allies
>Your humiliation of Prince Alexos
>Your defiance of the Serpent Priests
>Your contact with the Drow homecamp, and their reassurances of aid in the next phase of this war- Bloodrise will not fight alone!

>>5684064
>Your acts to protect Bloodrise from its enemies
>Your slaying of The Green Knight and his allies
>Your humiliation of Prince Alexos
>Your defiance of the Serpent Priests
>Your elimination of The Appointed Successor and his entourage

We are going to have to fight the serpent priests, soon anyway. Best to make sure all our companion's know the game plan now rather than later.

And if the Translator's throws a fit we can toss him into the same prison we kept the dwarf geologist. And personally i dislike the translator, it was him and the cartographer who let hapo escape with the demonology and necromancy scrolls. And they ended getting off scot free for that blunder while death blamed us for hapo's escape.

>>5684064
>Your acts to protect Bloodrise from its enemies
>Your slaying of The Green Knight and his allies
>Your humiliation of Prince Alexos
>Your marriage to Ekaterine
>Your contact with the Drow home camp, and their reassurances of aid in the next phase of this war- Bloodrise will not fight alone!
>Your defiance of the ultra-conservative Serpent Priests and their desire to hold our people back
>Your direct support amongst the lower castes of the Master Race, who cry out for true leadership
>Our direct communion with the Dark Gods and Red Dragon King and their blessing of our rulership

Cap it all off with us officially declaring ourselves as King of Bloodrise

>>5683500
Backlink

>>5684064
>Your acts to protect Bloodrise from its enemies
>Your slaying of The Green Knight and his allies
>Your manipulation of key figures in Hawksong
yeah uh leave out the brainwashing
and the parts Eka wouldn't like that she doesn't already know about
just let them know we made sure Hawksong wouldn't be picking a fight with us anytime soon
>Your humiliation of Prince Alexos
>Your defiance of the Serpent Priests
>Appoint the Novice Fleshweaver officially your Priestess-Queen

The priesthood already knows we're pushing back, but that Successor dude seemed like a big deal and they'll probably come down hard if they knew we killed him. Best to maintain plausible deniability.
>Your humiliation of Prince Alexos

>>5684117
Death was more cross that the tomes of necromantic knowledge weren't destroyed outright though the failure to protect them adequately was certainly a final straw on that front

>>5684119
>>5684064
+1 this.
We need to declare ourselves king and get to taking hold of the whole Master race so that we can bring on our new age and break the cycle. We need a united front and strong leadership.

>>5684064
>Your acts to protect Bloodrise from its enemies
>Your slaying of The Green Knight and his allies
>Your humiliation of Prince Alexos
>Your marriage to Ekaterine
>Appoint Ekaterine officially Queen of Bloodrise
>Appoint the Novice Fleshweaver officially your Priestess-Queen

>>5684064
>Your acts to protect Bloodrise from its enemies
>Your humiliation of Prince Alexos
>Your defiance of the Serpent Priests
>Your elimination of The Appointed Successor and his entourage
>Your marriage to Ekaterine
>Your defiance of the Serpent Priests
>Your elimination of The Appointed Successor and his entourage
>Your marriage to Ekaterine

>Something else

Handsome reward for fetching of the Shoggoth-sword

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>>5684342
>>5684280
>>5684216
>>5684137
>>5684119
>>5684117
>>5684075
[Writing!]

>>5684824
“Thank you,” you say to the assembled kobolds, and then in the Northern Common-tongue and more loudly: “THANK YOU!”

The crowd takes your cue, and the kobolds obediently curb their enthusiasm, that you may continue.

“I told you that I returned in victory,” you begin, “but not the form that thisss victory took. The reassson I left you, ssubjectsss of Bloodrisse, wass to ssee to it that we would not fight a war on multiple frontsss… To ssee to it that our enemiesss would be ssslain, besssted, humiliated!”

You hesitate a little here, contemplating how much to say, and of whom. You glance towards Ekaterine, who is regarding you with a pensive expression, listening keenly, and you are well aware of how truly abhorrent some of the actions you have taken against her people—and her family in particular—will be to her compassionate and loving spirit.

You decide to start with what she already knows—and has, implicitly, accepted.

“I traveled to Hawksssong, sso-called ‘shining cccity on the hill’ of the humansss and their ssuporterss. There, they sssouht to move againssst usss—againsst the Reptilian Massster Race, and the koboldsss, againssst the Drow, againssst the dwarvesss who have come to sssee the light in Darknesss. They mustered championsss… ‘Adventurersss!’”

Hisses and groans of anger and woe come from the crowd, but you slam one of your fists down into your palm, and gesture as if scattering smithereen-shards of bone and viscera to the crowd.

“Dessstroyed!”

The subjects in attendance cheer, though Ekaterine squints and frowns slightly.

“I have kept you ssafe from the ssso-called Green Knight, enemy of all our kind—he isss no more, and hisss alliesss are ssslain or neutralized!”

This much is true… If somewhat vague, by deliberate effort. You aren’t eager to explain to anyone—Ekaterine least of all—how the Green Knight or Nenais the Elven Sage were ‘neutralized’, brought under the thrall of a twisted sex-demon. You aren’t sure what she makes of their compliance—what she assumes is the cause for it—or if she’s simply been to caught up in the whirlwind of your brief-but-eventful wedded life thus far to think about such things. They’re as good as slain, though, and their adventuring party’s other members are no more!

“The Paladin Princcce of that ccity, nexxxt in line to the throne… He hasss been humiliated, rendered IMPOTENT againssst usss!”

>>5684889
Ekaterine’s expression darkens a little at that, face paling… But she looks away, rather than glaring. She was there when you bested her brother in combat the first time, and she recalls how you put him to public shame before his subjects and supplicants. She cannot contradict this telling. If she does not know the whole of it—his second humiliating defeat, and how you cooked him alive in his own armour with your fiery breath, then took his holy sword and offered it up as tribute to your Dark God—well, she needn’t. Her ignorance is, in this case, a mercy.

You take Eka’s hand in yours, then, gently, and force her to meet your eyes. She does so, and you try to convey assurance as you gently squeeze her much smaller, daintier digits in your mighty claws.

“The prize for thisss victory sstandss before you… No mere trophy, but a mate, and a wife! Princccesss Ekaterine of Hawksssong, Daughter of King Archosss… WIFE OF THERAL!”

A murmur begins at this—confusion from the Reptilian contingent, surprise from many of the dwarves and Drow, who perhaps had wondered at Ekaterine’s presence but never suspected her personal true nature or religious and political significance. Eka looks out at the seas of alien faces, stiff and faintly panicked at the muted and confounded reaction, and waves. Perhaps feeling this insufficient, she steps forward, and her diplomatic training takes over:

“I… Am pleased to be here, ah, people of Bloodrise,” she says, her voice carrying surprisingly well once she overcomes her initial nerves. “I am grateful to be your, your guest… And will do my best to abide your customs and honour your… Nation.”

There are scattered claps and hollers, but most just watch as she shuffles back in silence, uncertain what to make of the announcement. Ekaterine avoids looking at you, or anyone else, instead staring fixedly down at the small plateau of stone which you use as announcement-dais. The ambivalence is all the justification you need to withhold any declarations of queenliness—you do not want to complicate your message overmuch, or cause friction as others consider the implications of foreign, human monarch. For now, at least, it is enough that she is YOURS, and YOU are King here.

And King you shall remain, no matter what the Serpent Priesthood has to say about it!

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Rolled 20, 18, 10, 4, 11 = 63 (5d20)

>>5684892

“My victory hasss not been over only the Racce of Man, though,” you say, as the remaining whispers and mutterings die to make way for your final declaration. “Bloodrisse, it isss a placce for all of usss… Of every race, all the forgotten children of deep and disssstant palccesss. We have made it sssuch, together. But there are thossse… Ultra-orthodoxxx and conssservative in the exxxtreme, who would take that away from usss, away from me and from all of you!”

The crowd’s attention is rapt, now. The few who dare mutter or whisper do so in alarm. The dwarves in particular regard you with deep and grave worry, having gained (and standing to lose the most—more than the kobolds who have already pledged allegiance to you personally and the Master Race’ more generally, and the Drow and Drowgons who can retreat to Wevenore if needs must.

“Dragonborn…” the Novice hisses in warning. “Be careful.”

You ignore your Beloved One’s warning—it isn’t the right of Ekaterine-veto, nor is that applicable, and you cannot bide your time any longer. The Serpent priesthood will hear of your arrival alone in this place—you are sure of that much. They will wonder what became of the Appointed Successor, and while you can spin a fable to excuse his absence and hide his execution, you cannot do so indefinitely with each and every would-be governor they send to supervise you. Something ahs to give. A choice must be made.

“It isss the SSSERPENT PRIESSSTSS!” you declare. “Among their eldessst and most intransssigent, there are elementsss who would ssee thisss gloriousss, growing kingdom reduccced to a puppet ssstate, a vassal sstate… A SSSLAVE SSSTATE, with all of usss enssslaved to it—to them!”

Among many, the announcement is met with still more confusion—what are ‘Serpent Priests’ to dwarves, even Duergar, with scant knowledge of your race’s caste system? To the dark elves in attendance, it is even less comprehensible—how many of them even fully understand the structure of the True Faith, beyond their direct experience of the gods and your speechifying?” The kobolds are perhaps most comprehending, and most shocked, but they have accepted you as Dragon King… They will not break now.

No, it is the Reptilians whose reaction you watch most carefully…

DC 14/16/18/20

>>5684894
lets fucking GOOOOOO

>>5684894
>>5684897
…And they are shaken. You can see it in their posture, their startled blinking and hunched shoulders, their craned-back necks and flaring nostrils, their whipping tails.

>4

“I understand that thisss comesss asss more dire newsss to ssome of you than to otehrsss. That you may feel conflicted. But remember…”

You raise your fist again, and raise yoru voice with it.

“-I- am the one who brought usss here. -I- ssslew and sscattered our enemiesss, and made uss ssafe in the light of sssun and moon! It was -me- who led usss out of exxxile in the deep darknessss! It isss -WE- who made Bloodrisse what it isss… And it isss -WE- who the people need to lead them!”

>10

You turn to the Novice Fleshweaver then, who is looking utterly terrified by this most recent turn towards open rebellion. Ignoring her whine of protest, you take her hand in yours now, and raise it high with your other one.

“Thossse of the Massser Racce who has sseen ssssensse will follow usss into the New Age of Darknesss! Sssteeltalonss, Sssilkssscalesss, Dragonblooded Onesss and Degenerate Oness… Even Sserpent Priessstss and Priesstesssess!”

“Is this your twisted notion of giving me and your new pet ape-woman equal footing?” the Novice snaps, tugging her hand away… but remaining beside you, nonetheless, and keeping her voice down for the sake of solidarity. It’s all you can really expect from her.

“Ssstand with usss,” you say, gazing levelly at the Bastard, the Pit-guard and Apprentice, Cartographer and Merchants, Thief and Hunter, Occultist and few others—the fewest in number of any race, spread between castes and clans, but the first and foremost members of your retinue. Your oldest companions, save for your Green Dragonborn brother and the Novice herself.

And then there’s the Translator—seniormost Serpent Priest of the expedition, a nobleborn and well-connected male of the upper-class, outranked only just BARELy by the Novice Fleshweaver and implicitly her better for his sex.

“Sstand with usss,” you repeat, “or ssstand in our way, and be buried by hissstory with the foolsss I felled to make usss sssafe and ssstrong.”

>11

There is a hush for a moment—brief, but it seems to last forever—and then it begins.

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>>5684926
>18

“Live for the Dragon King!” bellows the Bastard in the True Speech, lifting a looted dwarven axe high.

“Die for the Dragon King!” agrees the Pit-guard’s Apprentice, after only a moment’s hesitation, and then his senior joins him.

“Kill for the Dragon King!” the Hunter enthuses.

“Rise with the Dragon King!” the Thief declares, lifting a fist high.

One by one, your retinue join the cry. Next shout the Merchants, with golden greed gleaming in their slit-pupiled eyes. The Cartographer is easily cowed, the Occultist surprisingly gleeful. The Hunter’s minions are quick to follow their leader into your service—YOUR service now, not the proxy-service of your shared Serpent Priest masters.

Sensing the tide—perhaps fearful, perhaps respectful, perhaps simply bound by the <Voice of the Metatron> and dazzled by the <Radiant Aura> which you unconsciously project with your swelling confidence, eventually the Translator joins the chant as well—not enthusiastically, not with the same devotion, but with submission in his heart. He sees you, and recognizes you, as King of Bloodrise, undisputed.

“LIVE!”

“DIE!”

“KILL!”

“RISE!”

>20
>Uncontested kingship
>BONUS: Increased loyalty, unity, and productivity

The ceremony ends—as all ceremonies must, even the most triumphant. You take a long, deep series of meditative breaths, stilling your hammering heart. You feel something move around you, through you—history? Destiny? It’s more than simple anxiety, you’re sure of it. Things are in motion—the entire world turning on a new axis in an entirely unknown and novel direction, and that axis…

Is you.

It’s terrifying and invigorating at once. Your empathic abilities absorb the excitement which you return an announcement has evoked—the sudden change in mood, the pivot of minds to the shared and utopian future you have promised. People return to work and to war, and to whatever they were doing before, but they do so with a new purpose and a renewed, redoubled vigor.

You feel it, also.

The first matter of business is to discover what has become of Blood rise in your absence—why all the dwarves, and what is the status of the war? Where lie the edges of your kingdom’s borders, and how well-defended are they?

Who will you interrogate about this?
>Agno the Kobold
>The Bastard
>The Pit-guard
>Glowie
>The Translator
>Karz Throat-singer
>Someone else

>>5684927
>Karz Throat-singer

OOC, sounds like there's a serious need for a come to Dark-Jesus moment.

>>5684927
>Kars Throat-Singer
Lets go to Karz office and wait in the shadows for him, pop out all intimidating like, give him a compliment for his progress and give him a boon or two for his victories in our name, but we gotta make sure he knows whose in charge
>>5682190
Backlink

>>5684927
>Karz Throat-singer

That was an awesome homecoming

Through blood and sweat we have built our dark kingdom up from nothing

>>5684927
>>Karz Throat-singer

Karz knows the dwarfs best, so we should ask him. Also according to the newspaper's he was a main leader in the most recent campaigns.

>>5684927
>The Bastard
>The Pit-guard
Did we not leave them in charge?

>>5684971
You did, and yet...

>>5684927
>The Bastard
>The Pit-guard

>>5684971
Forgot this…we should probably meet them first

Changing my vote here >>5684968 to
>The Bastard
>The Pit-guard

>>5684927
>Glowie
>Thief
Neutral parties who’s loyalty to us is beyond doubt and who would have an abundance of information.

>>5684927
>>Karz Throat-singer
and
>The Pit-guard

Will post today, but maybe late. Been an awful week, and it got capped by family drama of hilarious magnitude. Gonna' take a few hours and wait for this hangover to wear off.

>>5685477
Feel better, RQM!

>>5685486
[Thanks, anon.]

>>5685425
>>5685128
>>5685056
>>5684997
>>5684971
>>5684969
>>5684968
>>5684961
>>5684948
[Locked and writing soon! Very interesting combo...]

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>>5685609
You had placed the Bastard and Pit-guard as your topmost officials in your absence, and tasked them with overseeing the war-effort against the dwarven corporations in the Bloodrise mountain range. It seems prudent to interview them n the matter of the war, and of the strange developments you have glimpsed in our time back. And yet… The rumour-mill in Hawksong, and the intelligence briefings you made yourself privy to, indicated that it was a beardless DWARF leading the ‘sinister and evil forces in the mountains’. That can only mean Karz—your throat-singing mage-apprentice, and personal servant. In the end, seeing as the questions you have are virtually all related to dwarvenkind, you summon both the Throat-singer AND Pit-guard, both being overseers of dwarven labour and integration who might be able to explain what has happened to your kingdom.

“Victory. Victory, and prosperity.”

The first familiar voice to speak up on the mater is high-pitched for a dwarf, but no longer quite so soft-spoken as it once was.

“Throat-sssinger,” you acknowledge your dwarven servant, “you have changed.”

He stands tall-well, short, but if you look past his genetic shortcomings, he no longer slouches or scurries. Rather, he strides, chin high, back straight, eyes gleaming. He wears light armour and black leathers. You almost have to do a double-take to see this new, confident Karz as the dwarven songster who you took on as mystical pupil, that his harmonies might invigorate your own magic.

“A LOT has changed,” he agrees.

>>5685647
The Pit-guard is agitated—you can tell even without Reptilian Empathy, by the way he fidgets when you look his way, and glowers at the back of Karz’s head with a sour expression.

The three of you are in your private chamber for this little tête-à-tête à-tête. Along your way here, you settled in your Princess Bride, and took in the scope of these societal changes. Bloodrise has seen a glut of population—to your eye, Bloodrise has swollen to almost double its previous foot traffic, and nearly all the increase is dwarven! Many regarded you with open curiosity, even wariness… But few if any scowled or glared, or cowered and cried out.

“We should furnish refreshmentsss,” you suggest, to try to put the old Steeltalon at ease—though your realize, belatedly, that this is a foreign notion which you picked up among the human nobility.

“Allow me,” the Throat-singer is quick to jump upon this request, with a snap of his gloved fingers.

At his beckoning, the first sign of enslaved dwarves appear. They are pathetic things, bow-backed and shuffling, quiet and dead-eyed… And beardless. All beardless, despite evidently being male. They are overseen by a rather gruff, properly-bearded member of the species, hard-eyed and black-clad as the Throat-singer who summoned him. Karz watches him work the slaves admiringly, as he kicks and cajoles them into distributing stolen stone goblets to each of you, and filling them with fresh and volcanically-sparkling spring-water.

“Careful, maggots! This is the quarters of the Dragon King, and if you spill a single bloody drop, your blood’ll be spilling next!”

You watch the spectacle curiously, though you can just imagine how Ekaterine might tense up at the cruel hierarchy of it, were she to bear such witness.

“Prisoners of war” Karz explains, and smiles grimly. “And there are no shortage of those, believe me. What a war it was!”

“...Wass?” you ask. “It isss over, then?”

“Yes,” the Pit-guards rumbles at last. “For now, at least.”

Over a meal of slave-prepared food and spring-water—all dwarven food, of course, and surprisingly nutritious and fresh, as if made from the contents of a well-stocked surfacer larder—the Throat-singer and Pit-guard (MOSTLY the Throat-singer) tell you the tale…

>>5685649
>98 (Karz’s group)

Karz, in your extended absence, rose to become a figure of some prominence among the Duergar—in fact, perhaps one of the most prominent figures in all of Bloodrise, despite being technically a mere slave for all intents and purposes. As YOUR slave—and your apprentice—he was afforded more consideration and privilege, and he leveraged this into power, and influence. With that influence, he began a campaign of propaganda and destruction: offering amnesty to dwarven workers who turned on their masters and surrendered, while promising annihilation or humiliation and eternal servitude to those who resisted. With the aid of his growing army of Duergar kinfolk—

“And the wyrmlings,” he adds.

—he was as good as his word. Taking the liberty of defying the more conservative commands of the Pit-guard (who was left formally in-charge of all dwarves in your mountain), he led a partisan force which included your OWN sons (with their mother’s blessing, at least) into battle to take the last and greatest stronghold of his race in this mountainous realm…

And he succeeded, spectacularly.

>92 (the Bastard)

The Bastard—half-Dragonblood and half-Steeltalon, whom you had been coaching in the art of meditation and of thus cultivating Dragon Spirit, was reticent to stage such a bold attack. It risked exposure of your race, and your empire! When Karz’s song rose, though, the kobolds’ captive basilisk, and your own fire-lizards, and all the Drow-bred insects and spiders, and even all the native reptiles and bugs of the hills and mountains came to the Throatsinger. The Bastsard saw the movement of the world around him, and called his kobolds to join him… And then he, too, joined the fray.

(You'll have to offer him a commendation later. Perhaps you should have called him in here as well...)

>>5685650

>56 (the Pit-guard)
The Pit-guard refused the call, decrying those who got swept up in the excitement. Many of his dwarves began to forsake and desert him, though—not to fight against your burgeoning empire, but for it!

“I promised them freedom, even his personal servants and slaves,” Karz explains.

“You undermined me, you wretched little mole-man!” the Pit-guard snaps. “You insubordinate and scheming wretch of a mammal!”

“You did not have any sssuch authority” you note, more calmly. “The Pit-guard and Bastard were left in-charge.”

“I have the authority I can take!” Your apprentice retorts, altogether too boldly. “You taught me that, Master.”

Hm.

“Then I’ll be taking it back—with THIS!” the Pit-guard roars, and begins to heft his magical maul.

“Wait,” you command, and signal him to settle down—which, though reluctantly, the older male does.

“Continue,” you order Karz. “Without ssuch provocationsss.”

“As you wish, Master,” he says, though without a bow of deference or any apology.

…Hmm.

Regardless, the dwarves came, and they began to overcome the opposition. The dwarves of the enemy forces massed and unified, retreating and regrouping until survivors of every corporation in the mountains were fighting side-by-side…

“Which is when the wyrmlings arrived.”

>55 (Hamaraska’s)

Your secret sons by the Greatworm Queen Glowie were apparently rather spectacular… if disorganized. Glowie herself was not a part of the battle, and while Hamaraska the Centipede Lancer was able to help direct them, there were more than she could handle.

“If only the Queen of Worms had given me the damn tune to sing her sprog into submitting properly…” the Throat-singer gripes.

“Are they alright?” you ask, keeping the anxiety you feel from your voice.

The dwarf shrugs, then nods.

“A lot of them did their own thing—killing who they shouldn’t—friendly dwarves—or capturing a few dwarves and then fucking-off—sorry, departing, you know, to who-knows-where.”

“But none are…?”

“No, I rounded them all up by campaign’s end.”

“The Lancer did,” the Pit-guard sullenly corrects him. “It was the most useful contribution that blasted elf made—keeping the damned bugs from getting lost or eating our forces for field-rations. After the battle, she and the bugbears found where they’d scurried off to and brought them back to base. They are with the worm-queen now, I think."

>>5685651
“They served their purpose, though,” the Throat-singer points out. “Between her—him? The Lancer, whatever—and the Bugbear Boss on his big bat, we terrorized the enemies from above, below, the sides… Not to any huge strategic effect, but the morale damage was what we wanted.”

The Throat-singer grins an evil grin, as clasps one hand in a raised fist of salute.

“Total, unconditional surrender of the last holdouts, and the capture and enslavement of every remaining stubborn dwarf who dared defy the order to disarm and submit by their own coworkers!”

The Pit-guard turns away, but nods. This is, you thus deduce, a largely uncontroversial conclusion even among Karz’s naysayers. The war is over. The dwarves are beaten—well and TRULY beaten. You have come back not to lead a military march, but to find a victory parade.

Bloodrise—the mountains, at least—are indisputably yours. They are yours thanks to your loyal followers, and the subjects who followed them… And, it seems, most especially thanks to this arrogant little whelp of a dwarf before you, who defied your orders and his assigned Reptilian masters who YOU assigned to supervise him, and who even led their slaves and servants to disobey their Steeltalon master.

No wonder the Pit-guard seems ashamed and angry at how it all played out. Karz made a fool of him, and humiliated him by taking his authority and his workers and putting them to better use than he even dreamed of.

What will you do in regards to Karz?
>Praise Karz’s efforts, and ask what reward he might want
>Admonish Karz, and punish his impudence (how?)

What of the Pit-guard?
>Praise his diligence and loyalty, and offer his a reward
>Admonish the Pit-guard for his rigid thinking and pettiness, and punish him (how?)

Do you have anything else to ask them?
>You’d like a more in-depth understanding of the current population demographics of your realm
>You want to know how the humans below have responded, and what relations with them are like
>You would like to assemble your full council to debrief everyone more fully, and to celebrate your victory as a collective
>You would have their opinion on Ekaterine, and the possibility of making her (or the Novice) a queen here
>You wish to discuss the recent change of policy towards the Serpent priesthood, and get their feedback on it
>What is the deal with these beardless slaves? Can they explain this new change in policy towards the captives?
>No, they are dismissed

[Write-ins allowed, of course, and discussion encouraged]
[Rolls were from >>5680065]

>>5685652
>Praise Karz’s efforts, and ask what reward he might want, within reason
He should be rewarded - but giving an open-ended question is dangerous

>Praise his diligence and loyalty, and offer him a reward
He will lead the vanguard of our forces upon our return to liberate the forward base

>You’d like a more in-depth understanding of the current population demographics of your realm
>You want to know how the humans below have responded, and what relations with them are like
>What is the deal with these beardless slaves? Can they explain this new change in policy towards the captives?

Then
>You would like to assemble your full council to debrief everyone more fully, and to celebrate your victory as a collective

>>5685652
>Praise Karz’s efforts, and ask what reward he might want
poggers job bro

>Admonish the Pit-guard for his rigid thinking and pettiness
just admonishing is enough, he should be more flexible when it comes to changing situations

>You want to know how the humans below have responded, and what relations with them are like

>You wish to discuss the recent change of policy towards the Serpent priesthood, and get their feedback on it

>What is the deal with these beardless slaves? Can they explain this new change in policy towards the captives?

>>5685652
>>Praise Karz’s efforts, and ask what reward he might want

Ambition, Self development and finding ways to overcome great odd's are some of the core values that the serpent ascendant preaches. He did well, maybe we should see if we can teach him a version of the Voice of the Metatron.

>Praise his diligence and loyalty.

The pit guard's previous lot in life was simply to oversee the mating pit's and prevent lizards in heat from doing unauthorized breeding. He has never been trained to think craftily, so punishing him for it would be remise. But so would rewarding him for robotically following orders.
>You want to know how the humans below have responded, and what relations with them are like

>You wish to discuss the recent change of policy towards the Serpent priesthood, and get their feedback on it.

>>5685652
>Praise Karz’s efforts, and ask what reward he might want
No promises of actually giving him anything he wants, but he should definitely be rewarded.
>Praise his diligence and loyalty, and offer his a reward
He tried his best. We knew he wasn't ideal for the job.

>You’d like a more in-depth understanding of the current population demographics of your realm
>You want to know how the humans below have responded, and what relations with them are like
>You would have their opinion on Ekaterine, and the possibility of making her (AND the Novice) a queen here
Both will be Queens, but let's hear what they have to say
>You wish to discuss the recent change of policy towards the Serpent priesthood, and get their feedback on it
>What is the deal with these beardless slaves? Can they explain this new change in policy towards the captives?

>>5685652
>Praise Karz’s efforts, and ask what reward he might want

Champion tier. In our absence, he took the initiative and secured a victory. He should understand, though- he is accountable for both victory AND defeat in situations like this.

>Praise his diligence and loyalty, and offer him a reward

Tried to do what he could to make things work in the way he knew how. We'll give personal lessons to remediate, which will involve cultivation of Dragon Spirit as a reward.


>You’d like a more in-depth understanding of the current population demographics of your realm
>You want to know how the humans below have responded, and what relations with them are like
>You would like to assemble your full council to debrief everyone more fully, and to celebrate your victory as a collective
>You wish to discuss the recent change of policy towards the Serpent priesthood, and get their feedback on it
>What is the deal with these beardless slaves? Can they explain this new change in policy towards the captives?
>What is the logistical situation with feeding thousands of new mouths? Will you need to move immediately on the more fertile land outside of the mountains, or is there enough stockpiled food to keep for the winter?

>>5685652
>Praise Karz’s efforts, and ask what reward he might want
>Praise his diligence and loyalty, and offer his a reward


>>You’d like a more in-depth understanding of the current population demographics of your realm
>>You want to know how the humans below have responded, and what relations with them are like
>>You would like to assemble your full council to debrief everyone more fully, and to celebrate your victory as a collective
>>You would have their opinion on Ekaterine, and the possibility of making her (AND the Novice) a queen here
>>You wish to discuss the recent change of policy towards the Serpent priesthood, and get their feedback on it
>>What is the deal with these beardless slaves? Can they explain this new change in policy towards the captives?

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>>5685868
>>5685752
>>5685686
>>5685674
>>5685665
>>5685664
[Writing!]

>>5686228
Before you render a verdict upon the performance of your two subordinates, you have a few more pressing questions which demand address.

“What isss the demographic sssituation?” you ask. “I ssee many hairy new facesss…”

The Pit-guard laughs, though karz frowns slightly. You remember, belatedly, his sensitivity about his beardelssness, and add:

“No offenccce intended, Throat-ssinger. A beard doesss not make the man. After all, I cannot grow one either, at least without aid of an amulet.”

Karz blinks blankly, and asks: “Did you just… Tell a joke, Master?”

“I often do,” you note, a touch defensively.

You quickly understand the reason for his confusion and surprise: your sense of humour has long been reserved for those whom you are truly comfortable with, like the Novice, and is more often you sort of mean-spirited sniping and backhanded compliment which characterizes the ‘humour’ of the Master Race. Spending so much time around sensitive humans—especially meticulously polite Ekaterine—must have rubbed off on you in this way, also. Hm.

“The population of this… Kingdom… has swollen, Superior One,” the Pit-guard answers your question. “From roughly five hundred to over one-thousand two-hundred.

You feel your eyes widen automatically at this, and draw in a quiet hiss of breath at the number. The population has more than DOUBLED? And that means…

“Yes,” Karz acknowledges with poorly-hidden smugness. “Mostly dwarves. Duergar, I should say—they’re mostly LOYAL dwarves! Ones who joined us willingly… Or, well, who preferred service to death, and did what they were told to subjugate the rest.”

“Many mouthsss to feed,” you note grimly, remembering the cullings of past winters—when you and your Reptilian fellows took the old, insubordinate, and weak among the dwarven slave population out into the blizzard to kill them, that you might stretch your limited supplies.

“Yeah,” Karz agrees quickly. “Yes, you’re right, Master. But remember: we didn’t JUST acquire new Duergar and slaves—we ALSO took their strongholds!”

He gestures expansively to the feast which you, he, and the Pit-guard just indulged in with one another.

“Can it lasssst?” you ask, pointedly. “We do not yet have meansss to farm more than a ssscant few msuhroomss here in the mountainsss… We have little livessstock. We cannot support a population like thisss with forage, at thiss eleveation, and Wevenore isss not replete enough with food to trade it away.”

Karz hesitates a little at this question, so the pit-guard steps in, blandly and colly stating the harsh reality:

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>>5686262
“No. It cannot last, Superior One. We must cut down our numbers or find a way to restock our supplies within he next few months. Trade and barter, further raiding or expansion down into the valleys against the humans, or something else…”

“We will find a way,” the Throat-singer insists, confidence verging on madness in his eyes. “We are the champions of this world!”

“Yesss,” you agree, though with a bit more measured enthusiasm.

“We could cull the slaves,” the Pit-guard suggests. “That will carve away two hundred useless eaters. These Beardless Ones are not even good labour, not… After what was done to them. We have enough ‘voluntary’ dwarven workers now.”

That is another subject that had been on your mind: these cowering wretches with their shaven faces and shame-reddened eyes, unlike even the slaves you had lorded over before in this place.

“Ah, the rebels,” Karz Throat-singer says, with a tight-lipped smile. “Those who refused to accept the New World Order, who tried to stage uprisings or breakaway factions even after their settlements were captured and integrated. I took a page from humans, with that one—these big, proud, bearded bastards who fancied themselves soldiers. Shaved them clean… Above and below.”

“Wait,” you ask, “what?”

The Duergar bard grins widely at that, a darkness in his eyes, and gestures with two finegrs in a scissor-like motion: ‘snipping’ the air.

“No beards,” he explains, “and no balls.”

You remember Olu the Archer telling you of this practice, among the humans of the Southland, primarily reserved for harem-guardians. Something similar happens in the deep caverns where the Serpent Priests dwell and hold court, with their Degenerates. You remember the Appointed Successor’s empty expressions and stunted souls.

“No work ethic anymore, either,” the Pit-guard. “Broken beyond usefulness as anything except simple domestic servants. Muscle growth is limited, energy is limited… Terrible for mining, or fighting. They’re useless.”

“They AREN’T useless,” Karz insists. “Theya re an EXAMPLE. They are a WARNING. They remind the others what awaits them if they rise against us—against YOU, Master! They are NECESSARY.”

You wonder how much of this ‘necessity’ might mask a sadistic revenge fantasy for the effete young outsider turned dictator… But you simply move on for now. One more thing to consider.

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>>5686263
“Now, about these humansss, in the valleysss below…”

Below Bloodrise are three baronies—Redwell, Blackpine, and Sunset Lake. Redwell is centred on a well-garrisoned settlement around a mine and above a series of underground springs. Blackpine is a loosely-scattered settlement of farmers, homesteaders, and hunters, with a baron who is (you understand from your time in Hawksong, and conversation with Eka) a knight and huntsman of some renown. Sunset Lake is a populous trading-hub (well, by the standards of this underpopulated region) and famed for its beautiful vistas and good fishing in its titular lake.

“They are weak, disorganized, and poorly defended,” the Pit-Guard notes. We could easily beat them, slaughter and steal. But to hold them… Well, maybe if we lowered the populations substantially.”

“We could do it,” asserts the Throat-singer. “We could rule this whole land.”

“It wasss one thing to attack the outposstsss of distant dwarven corporationsss,” you remind them, “but these sssettlementsss are part of the Paxxx Ferrum.”

The Pax Ferrum—also sometimes called more euphemistically the Pax Argentum. Eka and her brainwashed brother Rufos explained it to you. The Paladin Kings of Hawksong long ago established this so-called Steel (or Silver) Peace, enforced by armoured knights and silver-flashing swords. Its backbone is a guarantee of Paladin defence for any human or demihuman settlement under his aegis. The dwarves’ settlements were arguably outside of it, but these baronies are indisputably under the protection of your father-in-law and brother-in-law back in Hawksong. One is sickly (maybe even dead by now? One can dream…) and the other is a thrall to your demonic ‘aunt’, Irinnile. You could essentially forbid Hawksong to intervene… But that would break the Pax very openly, in spectacular fashion. It would no doubt shatter the Northlands asunder… if it did not simply result in an immediate coup by those blasted Paladins. It is a move you should consider carefully before undertaking. A population of 1200 is no match for the tens of thousands which the Pax could muster…

You turn from this to other subjects for a time, while you consider your options-from one troubling future foe to another.

“You have heard my edict of idnependenccce, yess?” you ask. “The Ssserpent Priesssthood… They hold no ssway here, anymore.”

(Well, except your beloved Sseztlussth, your Novice, and her oath-enforced right to veto… But she doesn’t count. She’s barely even an initiate to their political machinations, and she’s loyal to YOU over even her own sire.)

“Thoughtsss?” you ask, encouragingly.

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>>5686265
“Long overdue, by what I’ve heard of them,” the Throat-singers says perfunctorily. “Never liked that damned Translator, even. Snooty.”

The Pit-guard doesn’t immediately respond, body language stiff, eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Pit-guard?” you address him directly.

“I… Have been alive many decades, Superior One. Always I have served the Priesthood, and the Grand Design. I was bred and born within it, to serve it, as many generations before me… As we all were. The Priesthood MADE us. They shaped our race, kept us safe…”

You tilt your head, listening without judgement… For now.

“I… Do not know how I feel. But I know this: as their servant, I was a Pit-guard, as you so call me… I helped control breeding. I mostly spent the last twenty years keeping little shits like you from getting one another pregnant every rut and estrus!”

You chuckle at this uncharacteristic defiance, even as the Pit-guard rattles at the irony of it as well. It’s true—as a Young One, you came to know this male in your many frequent altercations when <appetite> overwhelmed duty and good judgement and eld you to try to infiltrate the breeding pits to sample the sweetness of heat-slickened cloacas. It is a testament to the old Steeltalon’s strength, skill, and dedication that you did not breed until Glowie ‘persuaded’ you in this very mountain range!

“Do you prefer your current lot in life?” you ask him.

The Pit-guard nods, without hesitation.

“This is better. I… I may not be suited to it, I admit… But I serve you, Dragon King. I will continue to serve you, if you will allow it. The Serpent Priests kept us safe… but it is under you that we grow. The world is changing above and below us, and I wish to be part of that change.”

You clap a hand on the Pit-guard’s broad shoulder, shocking and startling him with the familiarity.

“You will have that which you wish,” you tell him in the True Speech. “You will be rewarded for your diligence, your loyalty, and your efforts. When next I and the bastard meditate together to cultivate a Dragon Soul, you will join us.”

“B-but I am not Dragonblooded!” he protests weakly. “I cannot—”

“Blood is not important.”

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>>5686267
The Pit-guard, long tasked with ensuring the purity of each caste and clan’s bloodline to within a very specific standard of genetic hygiene, stares at you in shock and awe. You understand the sea-change this must be to him, so you explain, switching back to Northern Common-tongue and gesturing to the Throat-singer.

“Thisss one isss a sslave, or wass… A beardlessss dwarf, looked down upon by hisss own kind and regarded as inherently inferior by our own Massster Racce… And yet look what he hasss accomplished!’

Karz looks at you with mixed emotions as you begin to speak, but his expression warms and turns grateful and proud as you continue.

“He isss a worthy apprenticcce… A champion of hisss kind, of ANY raccce… And he hasss brought us great and gloriousss victory! Hisss blood, hisss facce, hisss voicccee… None of thisss matters because, and I do NOT sssay thisss lightly, Karz the Throat-ssssinger posssessesss a DRAGON SSSOUL!”

The Throat-singer, in spite of his swollen ego, cannot help but bow his head and bend his knee beneath such vociferous flattery by his master and sovereign.

“Th-thank you,” you hear the dwarf murmur, and though his head is lowered to hide it, you can hear him sniffle slightly. He is… Crying?

“Composse yoursself,” you command him. “You have earned thissss. Not JUSSST thisss, either.”

Karz wipes his face and nose upon his sleeve, and looks up at you.

“Do not become too greedy,” you warn him, “but you have earned a reward. Assssk, Throat-sssinger. Consssider thiss carefully-do not ask it now. I will asssemble the councccil—meet me in the greatessst chamber of the warrensss. Tell the otherssss.”

The two salute you and, taking your meaning, depart. You take a deep breath and stroke your chin-spikes thoughtfully. They’ve given you much to consider. So, so much.

What will you do next, as your council assembls?
>Meditate, and consult the Red Dragon King within, or the Dark Gods Below and Beyond (specify if you have someone in mind)
>Go see Glowie and your sons—you have missed them, and wish to know how their first experience of war has affected them
>Consult with Ekaterine or the Novice about how you should move forward with your new society
>Get some sleep while you can—you will need to be well-rested for what comes next, and travel has been difficult (specify if you take a bed-mate, and who)
>Go for a walk—or a flight—around the mountains of your new kingdom, to appreciate its full expanse
>Write-in
[One choice, please. I was happy to write this huge fuckoff update given how much important info there was to cover, but that was a LOT of plot points to exposit on. I’m wiped!]

>>5686268
>Go see Glowie and your sons—you have missed them, and wish to know how their first experience of war has affected them
Gotta make sure we bond with the little ones.

>>5686268
>Go see Glowie and your sons—you have missed them, and wish to know how their first experience of war has affected them

>>5686268
>Go see Glowie and your sons—you have missed them, and wish to know how their first experience of war has affected them

We do have to satisfy the Beholder, but family first.

>>5686268
>Go see Glowie and your sons—you have missed them, and wish to know how their first experience of war has affected them

ask about killcounts

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>>5686271
>>5686276
>>5686289
>>5686315
For all that you have caught up with your retinue, there is one faction—key to your burgeoning kingdom, and near and dear to your heart—that you have not yet visited. It is time to meet with your first mate and your first clutch of sons: Glowie the Great-Worm Queen and her Wyrm Warriors.

You find them—and Hamaraska the centipede Lancer, and Honemdyn the Centipede—all in Glowie’s preferred cavern. It is a ways away from the most heavily-trafficked areas of the kobolds’ ever-expanding and ever-more-cosmopolitan warrens, closer to the tomb where the Red Dragon King’s doomed sons and daughters met their premature end. It was from their bodies that you drew forth the blood that empowered your <Dragonshape>, and made great and terrible monsters of Glowie’s first clutch of eggs. It seems appropriate that they now nest near that source of power, even if you are somewhat sad to see them detached from the broader community of Bloodrise.

“Theral!” the Lancer greets you as you approach, standing and smiling.

You nod in turn, momentarily thrown by the lack of honorific. No ‘King’ or ‘Dragonborn’ or ‘Superior One’ or ‘Master’. Hm. Still, this androgynous elven insect-warden knew you as friend before ever you were sovereign. Even now… Well, has the lancer or Duelist ever actually pledged ALLEGIANCE to you, exactly, or just come here in a show of companionship? Huh, funny that you never really considered this…

“Lancer,” you greet them in Dark Elventongue. “I hear congratulations are in order! You are a veteran of glorious battle, yes?”

Hamaraska looks embarrassed, nervously stroking their many-legged companion, and shrugs.

“I didn’t do much except keep the wyrmlings on-task…”

The elf’s eyes drift past Glowie’s warrior-brood, who have noticed you and now jockey to come see you, and to bundles of silk and glowing mucous upon the walls.

“Mostly of task,” the Lancer amends.

You squint, and make out shapes within—the silhouette of dead and bundled dwarves, food for later. Lower down, on the ground, several more such cocoons are split open, and dark brownish-red seeps through the blue-green glow of the cottony casings.

Hm. Maybe best that your first family live a little further from prey-sized sapients, at least for now.

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>>5686494
Still, you are happy enough to see them, and they you. They hum and chirrup, almost overwhelming you with their mass and the force of their cuddling—they are even bigger and stronger than when you left, albeit not by the same magnitudes as when they first moulted from hairy little caterpillars into their current array of faintly-draconic forms. Their bug-song remains unintelligible gibberish to you, but each of your sons frantically signs in the Drow’s wordless hand-speech at you, to welcome you and tell you of what has transpired while you’ve been gone. You pat them, and laugh, and do your best to sign back, until finally you must command them to stand back and give you some space.

“I hear you are all warriors now—truly warriors, having fought and killed!” you proclaim, and your sons hiss, roar, squeak and chirp in a song of victory. “How many did you each kill?”

You are reminded that these wyrmling sons of yours are less than a year old as they each struggle to puzzle out a number—any number. You’re… Not actually sure most of them know how to count, or are cognizant enough to keep track. Well, except ‘Unknownable’ and spooky young Natvodosk, who signs ‘ten’.

“Good work,” you commend them.

“Glowie,” you greet their mother, who hangs back with hands clasped together before her ‘bosom’—rather, a pronounced bulge in her thorax, almost a mockery of mammalian chest-swellings, like the false eyespots upon a moth’s wings.

She hums happily, and through vibrations physical and psychic, you hear her rely: “My king! You have come back to me~”

You dismiss the Lancer and their Centipede, that you might converse freely with your family—your secret family, for there are still few who know how the Wyrmlings truly came by their reptilian biology.

“I am returned,” you confirm, and then add (for perhaps you HAVE grown a little softer and more tender), “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she replies demurely, and bows her head.

You and your sons travel as one swarm towards the great and swollen Queen of Insects, and you bow your head in turn and reach out a hand. Chirping with delight and practically swooning at your display of courtly chivalry, Glowie takes your hand in hers and intertwined her armoured, spider fingers with your talons. She curls up her lengthy tail—broader, translucent, pulsating inside with eggs unlayed. You stare at it for a while and then, with only some trepidation, seat yourself upon it.

Around her, you spy crawling, caterpillar-like grubs. Glowworms? She has began to produce distinct non-Reptilian progeny as well, it seems... Are these also your spawn, then? 'Daughters'? They wiggle and wobble, occasionally looking your way, but most seem to pay you little heed. Indeed, they all seem to have tasks to attend to, though you can't say exactly what these mysterious duties might be...

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>>5686496
Glowie delights in your warmth and wight, and hums louder than ever, a song of love and community, and your sons gather around and join in.

What will you speak with them about?
>Their future here in Bloodrise—you’d like to find a way for them to fit in better with your officially-independent kingdom, or at least avoid conflict between her hive and your Kingdom
>Your evolving understanding of mating and marriage, and your new human bride—it’s time to decide whether you will officially take claim of Glowie as one of your mates and a potential ‘Queen of Bloodrise’, and her wyrmlings as your sons
>The coming conflict with the Serpent Priesthood—her mother lives closer to them, and the greatworms have long formed a sort of supply chain relaying messages and supplies between the forward bases of the Master Race and Bloodrise, and now this paradigm is shifting and so must the Greatworms’ role
>Attempt to better understand the nature of this growing hive, and the Greatworm race, including the role of these grub-worms
>Write-in

[Choose as many topics as you’d like, but you’ll note that I left all these subjects open-ended. Consider this a somewhat experimental vote—All these subjects WILL be discussed and addressed, but I will take as the voters’ default position whatever write-in ‘solution’ to each subject has the most votes.

ie., do you want the hive to be part of Blood rise, or a separate vassal state nearby? Something else? If you have an opinion on the first matter, state it! Likewise, do you actually LOVE Glowie? Do you NOT? Do you want to admit paternity, or keep the secret? Should Glowie continue to relay misinformation to the northern forward base and ferry supplies back, or send word for her mother to move here and break the supply chain, or will you sue her network to openly declare war on the Priesthood now and inflict damage from afar? Lots of options, and I want to hear what you folks have planned!]

>>5686499
>Their future here in Bloodrise—you’d like to find a way for them to fit in better with your officially-independent kingdom, or at least avoid conflict between her hive and your Kingdom

Our sons should be revealed as "blessed sons" of the Mother of Dragons, venerated as the Drowgons are but more greatly. Glowie will be what she is- an envoy of MoD, holding a position of religious authority. Her hive will have plenty of clout in the new Dark Empire and can co-exist within it as a respected theological enclave, though boundaries include not eating other citizenry and asking before undertaking major endeavors- warring upon others, etc.


>Your evolving understanding of mating and marriage, and your new human bride—it’s time to decide whether you will officially take claim of Glowie as one of your mates and a potential ‘Queen of Bloodrise’, and her wyrmlings as your sons

I abstain on this one. Can see the benefits of both stances and I'm not sure how Theral would feel.


>The coming conflict with the Serpent Priesthood—her mother lives closer to them, and the greatworms have long formed a sort of supply chain relaying messages and supplies between the forward bases of the Master Race and Bloodrise, and now this paradigm is shifting and so must the Greatworms’ role

We can begin to arrange convoys of Reptillian defectors through the safer passages underground meeting them halfway with a welcoming party. The message-grubs can also continue to ferry supplies. We should hold off on a strike at the forward base until we can marshal a killing blow.


>Attempt to better understand the nature of this growing hive, and the Greatworm race, including the role of these grub-worms

How can we help Glowie? How can she help us? Does she understand our intent with marshaling together all these races under a single banner and is she willing to be a part of it in a more cerebral, ideological sense beyond supporting her King?

What is the relationship between Glowie and her mother? Can they co-exist at all??


Word vomit supreme, but you asked so here we are.