Rolled 2, 8, 8, 18 = 36 (4d20)
>>5336279>>5336227>>5336154>>5336140>>5336137>>5336112You meditate on it for a time: how to tame the Bogbarri, to make them useful members of an organized fighting-force. In time, a course of action reveals itself. You open your eyes, stand, and stride across the great cavern where you currently make camp, to the Bogbarri’s brooding Boss.
Naturally, with his race’s keen senses, he hears you coming. He does not stand, certainly does not bow. If he doesn’t regard you as lesser, he at least sees you as co-equal. That’s galling enough.
“Copper,” he greets you with a grin, adjusting his posture from his sulking slouch to a straight-backed, chest-puffing stance. His nails drum the rock. “Are we finally leaving this place, to go do something? My bogbarri grow restless.”
“I can see that,” you agree. “Tell me… How doe syorur ace normally live?”
He narrwos his eyes, grin slipping, as if confused or troubled by the question.
“What you eman?” he asks.
“Do you normally live in groups like this?” you ask, gesturing to where two of his subordinates even now throw themselves at each other in an impromptu wrestling match over some jerky, biting and swinging at each other.
He says nothing for a time, then asks: “Why you want to know?”
It’s clear in his tone: the answer is ‘no.’
“You can’t fight alongside us like this,” you hiss. “You have no discipline. At the first sign of personal benefit, these bugbears will break rank and charge to seize the spoils. At the first sign of trouble, they will turn invisible and run.”
The Bugbear Boss shrugs and laughs, saying: “As it should be, yeah?”
You meet his eyes, and it’s clear to you that he can see the problem, but has no solution. None except…
“They fear me,” he grins, “more than enemy. They will obey.”
You shake your head, saying to him: “It is not enough. They need to be able to listen to ME, to work with the DARK ELVES and the KOBOLDS.”
The Bugbear Boss stands then, like a great bear rearing up on its hind legs… Though even now, he is a few inches short of your height. He lets some of his chain slip from his arm, falling to the ground with a bang and clatter which summons several pairs of bugbear—and Reptilian, and even elven—eyes.
“You wish to be new Boss? You TAKE title, like I did, or you <kien net>.”
You don’t understand the last two words, but you think you get the gist: he just told you to back off.
“Listen,” you say quietly, forcing politesse through gnashing teeth, trying not to rise to his challenge, “I have been where you are now… Trying to curb the self-defeating instincts of my kind… For our own good. You would not have bound this bugbears together into this group—which you all clearly hate—if you did not see the benefit in it. I am offering to HELP you, so you can help ME. Alliance, remember?”
