>>5415869You follow his gaze to the other side of the room. There, the worried-looking Drow parents whose hovel you occupy stand back from where the Novice has clinically stripped their offspring of their ratty robes to reveal bodies which are, indeed, changed. They seem fearful, withing under the Novice Fleshweaver’s attentions, but otherwise unharmed and in no medical distress… But their pitch-black elven skin is now flecked with patches of scale, spreading across their torso and dotting them, like a Degenerate.
Copper scales, like yours. And their eyes, fearful and confused, are the same green as your own.
“What is this?” their father asks of you, interrupting your conversation (spoke in the True Speech) with his elven words.
“A miracle,” you answer.
You guide the Novice away, though she parts from the magical-medical oddity with considerable reluctance, and tell her (some of) what transpired in your vision. When her flummoxed disbelief is addressed, you offer explanation to the dark elves. Perhaps it is because you primed them to embrace your True Faith the night prior, but all those present accept this ‘gift’ for what it is, rather than reacting to the magical mutations with continued horror. You even lead them all in a prayer of thanks to the Divine Mother—they seem a little shaken still, and this can put them at ease AND avoid the Lady of the rookery’s wrath at perceived ingratitude.
“What do we tell Princess Jazkarmel, though?” one of her guards asks.
He seeks your advice? Your permission? Your speechmaking last night, coupled with this demonstration of divine favour, seems to have made a pretty major impression.
>Spread the word of what happened here—of your generosity, and of your deity’s blessing made manifest>Tell Jazkarmel (and the other nobles) nothing, and keep this secret… At least for now, until you know how they will react>Let the Novice continue to study them, and delay reporting this (or meeting with the nobles) at all, just for now>Write-in 