Rolled 10, 11, 19, 3 = 43 (4d20)
>>5340647>>5340636>>5340567>>5340551>>5340502>>5340493>>5340485>>5340483>>5340433You dismiss your council, save the Novice, whose chamber you retire to in order to consider your options.
“Why not use your chamber, Uninvited One?” she huffs, considerably less deferential when the two of you are alone.
“I value your council,” you respond.
She looks over her shoulder from where she labours over her alchemical field-kit, a pared-down and more-durable form of the elaborate laboratory of glass, stone, and crystal which serves her at home.
“Oh really?” she asks, dubiously. “So you’re going to follow my advice?”
“You know I am not going to delay the assault,” you sigh.
“Obviously, Meatheaded One.”
“And the basilisk IS a useful asset…”
She hisses, a Reptilian scoff, and turns away. Her tail slaps the ground in irritation.
“That was exactly the OPPOSITE of my council, Degenerateborn.”
You’ve noticed she uses that name for you—an allusion to the tainted, part-human heritage which only she, you, and the Chaplain and the Dark Gods Beyond and Below know you carry—less often in these last few days. It only crops up when she is especially angry… Or concerned.
“I will be safe,” you assure her, “and when time is less pressing, you may yet have your samples. What of the dead basilisk chick, which the so-called Dragonwrought was drawing power from?”
“Scant material,” she complains, “but it will have to do.”
You stand, mind made up, and go to face down the basilisk.
“If you get yourself petrified all because you wanted to show, I will not readily forgive you!” the Novice shouts after you.
Truly, a peculiar female.
The basilisk is in its pit, chained to a central post. At present, it is blindfolded—a difficult task that took the kobolds many attempts and led to several injuries. The Bastard felt it necessary to accomplish this even at such a cost, however, after the beastly thing’s mere gaze afflicted you and a whole host of Reptilians during your dominance-duel with Agno. Even in such condition, though, Ivno and the Bastard watch trepidatiously as you descend into the pit and approach the thing.
The basilisk has a beak, wattle, and comb like some great rooster, at a distance; upon closer inspection, the wattles are more like the hanging dewlaps of an iguana, the headrest more rigid and bony than a rooster’s. It has a barrel-like body and six stumpy legs, and a long, trailing tail, ridged with spikes as with its back. Excluding the tail—nearly as long as its body again—it is nearly the size of you… And you are no small creature, being nearly 300 pounds of muscle. You suspect from its build that it is heavier.
You take a deep breath, centre yourself, and reach out with your Fearsome Presence…
