>>5434164You call the Junior Novice to you, and the mutated being cringingly obliges. To his credit, he only flinches and growls slightly when you produce your presently dagger-sized shoggoth-sword.
“You understand me,” you say, in the True Speech. “How well?”
The Junior Novice nods, and pulls his lips back in an uncertain grimace. You’re not sure if it indicates that he is uncertain about his translation abilities, or simply unenthusiastic about your apparently plan to use him as an interpreter. Does he even understand what you desire of him, for that matter? For all his ability to understand your tongue, you have never felt the need to learn his. This oversight, while understandable given your positions in the hierarchy, now puts you at a disadvantage. Having decided to negotiate, you are entirely at the mercy of the Junior Novice to convey your words.
You keep your sword at the ready, just in case.
You instruct Hamaraska to remain in place, ready to leap to your aid, abscond with their centipede, or run to retrieve reinforcements as required. Then, together with ‘Junior’, you descend into the cavern.
The ghouls instantly scatter, even the larger ‘dogbold’ staggered back a few steps and sneering uneasily at you. Many of your adversaries drop their weapons to scamper bestially on all fours. You click your tongue in disapproval of the lack of discipline—though of course, tactically, it delights you. You can’t say it does much of your opinion for the dogbold race (whatever that race ACTUALLY is called) that the barking, babbling ‘leader’ must shout and stomp to stop the stampede for safety.
The dog-ghoul DOES manage to muster a small fighting force, however, and the ghouls have the wherewithal to take up spears and knives while the circle and sway around you.
