>>5760137>>5760014>>5759999>>5759942You have enjoyed your time at rest—well, if it can be called ‘rest’ when you are still attending council meetings, corralling offspring and subjects, carefully appeasing romance-minded insectoid overlords. You know it cannot last, though. You have responsibilities here as Dragon King, but part of the idea behind formalizing the Serpent Queen’s rule was to allow you to do what must be done for the Bloodrise’s LONG term prospects… And that means becoming strong again, truly strong, beyond the abilities of mere mortals. And that means you need to leave, soon.
“Agno,” you command your kobold attendant, “gather my forces. I will be leaving the mountain again, soon. Keep it quiet—only those who I tell you to contact should know of this, for now.”
The kobold—once such a defiant little creature, bows his head and scurries off to do your bidding with some excitement. Perhaps he thinks he is coming along; perhaps he IS. But first and foremost, before all that, you came to Bloodrise for a reason, and you stayed with one purpose in mind. It is time to see it through.
You have seen surprisingly little of the Serpent Queen since you appointed her your ‘primary’ queen, and her issue your primary inheritors. You suppose you shouldn’t be shocked: she is not a sentimental creature like the Greatworm Queen, and you have given her much to attend to. From revolutionizing mountain agriculture to curing complex chimera plagues, she has had much to keep her busy. You have spent one or two evenings in her company, taking torpor together, but she has woken nearly as early as you have, and set herself right back to work in her laboratory. Before your Serpent Priest scion hatches, though, there is something you must discuss.
“I am already well ahead of you, oh WISE and INSIGHTFUL king,” your Reptilian mate notes, glancing over her shoulder at you as you step in and raise the issue of your child’s biological inheritance.”
“Wait,” you say, “what? How? When did you find the TIME?”
“What do you think I have been doing for the last three weeks?” she asks, seemingly equally as confused.
“…Serving our kingdom?” you hazard a guess. “Solving the chimera-plague which your father and the Fleshweavers set in motion?”
She turns around then, hands on hips.
“Really?” she asks, more amused than annoyed. “You truly believed I was the sort of female to put duty and responsibility to those peons, or the SURFACE-SCUM in Hawksong, ahead of securing my own heir, and my lasting legacy? ME?”
When she puts it like that, it DOES seem a little optimistic.
