>>5565028>>5565041>>5565044>>5565116>>5565389>>5565410You narrow your eyes in a pointed glare at the surly old Dragonblood. His attitudes and words are no surprise, given the culture of the Master Race, but times ARE changing. You are the symbol of that change—its envoy, its inciting event. Though this mouthy member of the old guard has no way of knowing it, you yourself are a mixed breed, teaching a new testament of the Dark Gods. Moreover, you outrank him, and it is NOT his place to be criticizing a member of the retinue which YOU have chosen.
“Hold your tongue, Infiltrator,” you address the Dragonblooded One. “Your fellow operative has been a loyal and effective ally. He has slain monsters of legend at my side, and proven himself capable in the realms of subterfuge and diplomacy as well. He was chosen for this mission because he DESERVES to be on it, as much as you do.”
“Ha.”
You are a little surprised by this quiet, bitter scoff from the older male, and the barely-concealed contempt which you feel radiating from him.
“Would you care to elaborate upon that vocalization, Infiltrator?” you ask him.
“It is simply… Surprising how Unsurprising your stance on the matter is, when I hear it aloud, ‘Superior One’.”
You bristle, hand reaching for the even blade at your side unconsciously. It is not your moon-sword, of course, but the blade you had on your hip when you first left the forward base for Bloodrise; a borrowed assassin’s dagger is on the other. You calm yourself, though, reminding yourself that such behaviour is to be expected until your new teaching take root.
“You are wise to notice this,” you say instead. “I am not just your superior in this instance, but a Knight Ascendant, and an heir to the Dragon Kings of old.”
“So I have heard,” the older Infiltartor notes sourly.
“The Feathered Serpent teaches that a True Dragon is made through striving and growing. It is not a matter of mere birth.”
“It is how those of low birth may cope with their damnable circumstances, perhaps.”
You rankle. This insolent cur goes too far!
“It is what your SUPERIOR believes,” you assert.
The Dragonblooded one meets your eyes, and his tail lashes and small throat-pouch bulges with words unsaid. He simmers with an outrage that doesn’t quite breach the surface. Again, you are shocked at his defiance… But he seems to realize what he is on the verge of. The Dragonblooded Infiltrator bows his head, swallows his retort, and dons his own Amulet of Disguise. His furious features are hidden behind a placid mask of ashen-brown skin, a shade lighter and pinker than that of Oluwadamilare’s natural hue.
