>>5208034“We are Infiltrators, returned from the human-infested surface-settlement called ‘Hawksong’,” Roth says, puffing up his chest and sticking out his proud, thorny chin. “You can see we come bearing important news and great treasures from the ape-folk’s ill-begotten hoards!”
The other Dragonblood says nothing for a time, staring at the chimeras, the magical items,a nd ESPECIALLY at the Dargonborn. The Great Green One lets lose a low rumble that radiates through the cavern, reflected off of every curve of the cave so that it seems to come from all sides. A few hisses and squeaks go up from the assembly, and a few Reptilians hurry from the hall. Each Dargonborn present, including the one who addressed you, seems to buckle slightly at the knees as if seized by an instinctive urge to submit and bow, though none do; Roth, by now used to it, stands straightest of all.
You lean close to Roth—not touching him, of course, not HERE—and whisper to him. He doesn’t deign to look at you, not paying you such close attention, but you see him nod very slightly. He may be back on the top of the natural hierarchy once more, but he agrees with your thinking, it seems.
“We three—myself and these Degenerates—must report to the Serpent Priests. Who is presently Chaplain of this place?”
“Chaplain Makss-Ssellu,” a male Silkscale answers, when the Dragonborn from before, still trembling slightly from the fearful presence of the Dragonborn, fails to do so.
“Bring us to him,” your senior Infiltrator orders, and the Silkscale obliges.
“As the humans say, ‘there is no place like home,’” Alhazred mutters.
You and he both fall into line behind Roth, leaving your menagerie behind at the mouth of the hall. There, they continue to confound and captivate the watching Reptilian throng. The Dragonborn stands up as straight as its bowed, hunched back will allow, basking in the adulation with a sad mockery of kingly bearing.
