Rolled 19, 4, 1, 7, 11 = 42 (5d20)
>>5356942>>5356919>>5356846>>5356843>>5356824>>5356725Perhaps… Perhaps there is a way to solve both these issues at once.
“Paeris was a worthy Reptilian,” you tell Olu, sighing. “His absence is… Unfortunate. But it was not his end.”
The Archer looks up at you, expression questioning.
“Before we depart, we have more final matter to attend to,” you say. “You will join myself and the Elf-Specialist for… Communion.”
Oluwadamilare doesn’t seem to understand, but you know he will—that they ALL will—when they see what you have seen.
It is no easy task finding a private chamber which has the suitable specification to perform the ritual. Too large, and the scared smoke cannot properly fill it; too small, and not everyone can fit. This since specially true as attendance blooms—not just the few elves which had been entertaining the Serpent Priest’s elven-language sermons, but a full half-dozen who hear of the novel event and attend out of idle curiosity. The Archer is there also, naturally, but so too is the Cartographer.
“I heard a rumour that there was to be Communion,” he says.
You suppose it is difficult to keep secrets in such small confines. With the Cartogarpher comes Agno, and the dwarves—Karz with furtiveness and narrowed-eyes, Davora looking worried and avoiding looking at you. In the end, the small alcove which you have selected holds you, a dozen other sapients, and (by necessity) even the fire-lizards are there, with Agno keeping them in-check.
Well, you’ve never been shy about a crowd.
You clear your throat, and begin your first-ever sermon—a sermon in three languages, no less!
“I know that there are those among you who question the worth of the Dark Gods,” you begin. “You wonder if their power is true, lasting. Some of you wonder if that power is for YOU, or only for those like myself and my brethren…”
You gaze lingers on the dwarves at this point, and Davora the Herbalist looks up at you as you switch to the northern common-tongue, expression questioning.
“…And there are those among you for whom the idea of questioning them at all is sacrilege,” you note, looking to your fellow Reptilians. “For those of us who have been raised in the ways of The Grand Design and The Great Conspiracy, the Gods of Darkness are self-evident in their value. Our race would ben long-extinct without their guidance…”
A half-truth, you know, for there are Gods among the Dark Pantheon who expect and await your extinction even now.
