>>5709252“Hmmm?” he asks, pressing for more details.
The Chaplain steps back and the males around him step forward, producing what looks to be… Armour. An entire set of armour, green like he himself, and sized for him as well!
“You are going to war,” the Chaplain explains.
The great green Dragonborn squints slightly, the diadem granting him enough understanding to ask:
“Iz my Littuhl Bruhthur in trubbuhl?”
“Something like that,” the Chaplain says smoothly. “Don this armour—we will help—and make ready to leave.”
More Reptilians—more than the Great Green Dragonborn ahs ever seen at once, since he first arrived and Little Ones came to gawk at him and offer praise and supplication!—then enter the cave, carrying smaller suits of armour—sized more appropriately for his Little Brothers and Little Sisters.
“Yoo need thuh Yuhng Wuns, too?” he asks, tilting his head slightly.
“All of you,” the Chaplain asserts.
“Hmmm.”
“And you will need to remove the circlet upon your brow,” the Chaplain then adds, “to fit the helm, which has enchantments of its own.”
The Green Dragon born touches the diadem upon his brow again, as the Little Ones produce the helm in question, a great and terrible thing, resembling his own fearsome face, but wrought from emerald metal, and…
“No eye-uhs?”
There are no eyes on the helm—rather, a solid band of metal, inscribed with the serpentine scrawlings of Reptilian True Script, rests upon the snout and half-encircled the space where such eye-holes would normally be, like some incomplete human lancer’s visor.
“It is enchanted,” is all the Chaplain says. "You will not have trouble navigating."
“Hrmm…”
The Red Dragonborn begin to be outfitted with their armour, even as the Great One rolls over and rises to his full towering height. Were it not for the <CLARITY> brought on by the circlet he now wears, perhaps he would not sense it, but he does: the Little Ones, including the Serpent Priest Chaplain, are… Uneasy. So too, then, is he. There is more to this than meets the eye. He remembers, not with the vagueness of past recollections but with the clarity which that same diadem allows, the way that his creators would lure him to specific spaces to be caged and experimented on in decades past, using promises of food or ‘outside time’.
What will he do?
>Don the armour without protest, because your Little Brother needs you!>DESTROY! This is a trap! Rage, and make to escape!>Create an opening and command the red Dragonborn and his harem-mates to flee! 