>>5566742“In Hawksong, I am called ‘Roth’, the blacksmith. I serve the lesser nobility and merchants who are given to the lifestyle—or merely aesthetic—of ‘adventuring’. Silly pantomime of war and raiding, but it pays the king’s taxes and gives me insight into some of the wealthier families, as well as the supply chains of vital materials for war, and those who are GENUINE in their aspirations to adventure offer me insight into international rumours. It makes me an ideal contact o relay instructions, objectives, and to organize larger coordinated efforts between our compartmentalized operatives.”
Together with your mother, this surly Reptilian Infiltrator helped to tame and manipulate a local demon of some power, apparently. They slew a band of troublesome shapeshifters in the sewer, undermined and vanquished the Mages’ Tower’s Inquisition and slipped past their Guardians to liberate the Great green Dragonborn—in the process, eliminating or compromising several key figures in the Tower’s governance.
“The Archmage” you ask, shocked. “She is an agent of ours? Under our thrall?”
“I… Cannot say,” he clarifies, hissing with irritation at this realization. “She was manipulated via the succubus which the Dege—which your mother had bound. I do not know her status any longer… Only that she has not come forward to expose us.”
Interesting…
“Your mother and I,” the Infiltrator called Roth says after a period of prolonged silence. “We caved one another’s lives, several times. She is… Was… A capable operative, in her own way, whatever her many, many, MANY failings.”
“Then why are you so… Critical?” you ask. “It seems illogical.”
This ‘Roth’ stares at you searchingly, face contorting into an unreadable expression that’s peaks to some inexplicable angst.
“It was a… Personal betrayal.”
Wait… You recall the Chaplain’s words. Your biological father was a Dragonblooded One… A male of superior breeding whose seed your mother ‘stole’ to create you with a sample of a true dragon’s blood, and the aid of a demon.
“I see,” you say, and you think you do.
You regard this old male in return, and you think you have begun to understand his grievance. A follower of the old ways, operating faithfully and diligently in accordance with the Serpent Priesthood and its edicts for half a century… Only to be surpasses and shown up by a much younger operative—a female, and a half-human Degenerate no less!—and then to see his own spawn doing much the same, and in the same way…
Yes, you think you understand your father’s displeasure.
“Take your torpor properly,” you command him. “I will do likewise. Tomorrow, we move on Hawksong.”
