>>5669422The Insightful One makes, alas, a valid point… As you might expect a God of Wisdom to do, really. You have recruited disciples to the Serpent Ascendant’s cause, and to that of the Mother of Dragons, but what have you brought the master of the Insightful Eye? Even Death Himself, avowedly neutral in your war against the Forces of Light, has been gifted a sacred space for ritual worship and service. The Master has given you hints, clues, assistance, and even material aid by way of the The Nothic. Now you, ask him another favour, before even paying fair tribute for that which you have already received, besides perhaps some surface-level proselytizing of the Duergar elite in Bloodrise.
“I understand, and apologize,” you say, bowing low. “I will do better in the future.”
“A good start,” the Dark God acknowledges graciously, “but you ask my favour NOW, mortal.”
He is right. You have the inkling of an idea to repay your debts to The Beholder many times over by conquering and consecrating Hawksong’s Mages’ Tower to his worship… But right now, especially with your redoubled commitment to Bloodrise, that is a distant dream. No, you have only one treasure of sufficient value to win the favour of a Dark Divine.
“Electric One, are you here?” you ask aloud.
With a crackling sound, the lightning elemental which you freed and tamed many moons ago reveals itself, emerging from the stone behind you and eliciting another muted cry for your Beloved One.
“Wh-what…?”
“Never fear, it isss my creature,” you answer Ekaterine in her tongue, before reverting to your own native language. “Bring me the Archer, and tell him to bring our war-spoils.”
The lighting elemental zooms away obediently, crackling all the way. You wait, kneeling there in prayer and explaining the steps of the ritual as you go—including the bloodletting with your assassin’s blade. Ekaterien flinches as you take her own hand to down likewise, attempting to pulla way, but you calmly explain the necessity.
“The Noviccce Fleshweaver—Teharisssa—will mend the damage later, but to NOT do thisss would invite grave offenccce.”
“All the better not to have brought me, then,” she protests.
“Are you not interesssted to learn of thisss?” you ask, allowing a slight suggestion of teasing to enter your tone. “You alwaysss ssaid you wished to learn more about my culture, didn’t you?”
She pouts a little , and winces as you extract the toll with a cut across her palm and a firm squeeze, but she does not complain beyond that. You cannot tell whether you have gotten through to her, or whether she is merely resigned to her fate.
