>>5296458>>5296465>>5296470>>5296491>>5296548>>5296586>>5296624>>5296625>>5296642>>5296754“Infiltrator!”
Paeris the Degenerate looks up, recognizing the title by which you have come to more-frequently refer to him, to differentiate him from Olu if nothing else.
“Play us a song with your music-magic.”
“Are you certain, Superior One?” he asks nervously. “Last time it… Disrupted you.”
“We are not in meditation this time,” you reply, “but in celebration. It seems… Appropriate.”
“I suppose a song does occur,” he murmurs.
Paeris takes out his harp, beginning to pick the strings and to quietly hum to himself. At first, the other Reptilians take little notice, or scoff at the mammalian frivolity of it, but as the weaving of the notes grows more and more complex in its organization, faster and more intricate at once, and the humming grows louder, a few begin to look on with an annoyance which gives way to interest.
“I do not know of this elf-song,” the Elf-Specialist notes.
The Infiltrator pauses, and then with a small smile and a wink, says:
“It’s because I just wrote it.”
Then, with a rapid strum and a deep-lunged cry, the bard breaks into a song:
“Deep under the Bloodrise stone,
Born was an insect on a gilded throne,
It brooded in darkness and was thus overgrown!
It doubled and tripled, quintupled in size,
It ate all the dark elves,
Hoarded what they prize,
It scurried and scarfed and consumed all in sight,
It brought unholy terror to an eternal night…”
A pause of the voice, a slow-down in the strumming, and then:
“’Til the Dragonborn arrived!
‘Til the DRAAAAGONborn arrived!
‘Til fifteen Reptilians all armed and forewarned,
Marched into the lair of this elf-eater scorned,
And the damned beast it dared,
Didn’t know to be scared,
And it tried to eat the Draaaaaaaaaagonborn.”
The Novice peers out from the field-lab she has set up, looking first to Paeris and then to you. You shrug, and turn back to the song.
“The Drow call this beats the Devourer,
Because it ate of their kin and their kings,
But it didn’t count on the Dragonborn,
Yes, the beast was forgetting one thing:
Yes, when you try to have a Reptilian snack,
The Master Race’s sons bite back!
So the bug overthrown,
Was flipped and was thrown,
And we sit on ITS throne,
Devouring IT for daring attack!”
The half-elf goes on like this for a while, before slipping into instrumental. As he does, you eat, enjoying a moment’s peace from responsibility.