>>5154861>>5154871>>5155103>>5155120Your first course of action is to check in on a couple of your thralls by way of the connection between Irinnile and the various fragments of her demonic essence—her ectoplasm—deposited in your victims. You’ve been somewhat worried about the state of the Dragonborn, who by your brief acquaintance at least seems a somewhat simple-minded being. You can’t begrudge him, of course—this malformed, mutated chimera may be a scion of the Great Green Dragon of old, but he was also apparently raised like a mere beast in a hidden pit beneath the Hawksong Mages’ Tower. It is a miracle of the Dark Gods that he can speak and reason at all!
Luckily, as you settle into a meditative state outside Hawksong’s walls, you glimpse a less anxious and agitated Dragonborn than you expected. Gazing through Head Chimericist Henzler’s eyes, you see a being cowed and pliant. In some ways, it’s troubling, for despite his noble lineage and the freedom you have brought him, the twenty-foot draconian entity is still obviously intimidated by his… Creator? Handler? Even enthralled, Henzler’s presence in the dimly-lit space which you take to be an emptied-out farmhouse leaves him demure and deferential. It’s not all bad, though, for you see that Alhazred has taken to instructing this Great One in enunciation lessons, and is reading some sort of scroll with the Dragonborn leaning over his shoulder and following along.
“This is the history and mysticism of our people,” Alhazred explains carefully and slowly in Reptilian Truespeech. “This is your noble lineage.”
“Nawwwble hayritooj,” the Dragonborn tentatively agrees, nodding along slowly and with half-comprehension.
“Can you not fixx hiss mind?” you ask Henzler along the link.
Henzler jerks somewhat, shifting your view and drawing the twitchy attention of Alhazred’s titanic student.
“I… Cannot,” you hear her say across the link. “It is beyond my alchemy, because it is no biological impairment. It is a matter of study.”
‘What about his gimpy arm?’ Irinnile asks, referring to the Dragonborn’s one shriveled and reduced limb. ‘Or his hunch, or where they, like, chopped off his wings or whatever?’
Henzler seems to hear the question as well as you do, for you see the view through her eyes shift again as she nods.
“I could remedy these afflictions…” she says. “I never knew how to go about it using human samples, or those deteriorated samples of the old dragon… Nor mundane reptiles or drakes. But now… With this man who smells of the same or related bloodlines…”
