keenscythe
No longer NEET
- Location
- WA, USA
How about 'Murica?
Chronicles of the Wyrm (Dragon Quest)
- Thread starter Maugan Ra
- Start date
- Fantasy
-
- Tags
- fantasy dragon magic pathfinder
Any princesses?
- Location
- Somewhere on Earth
Well, let's vote on it, this is a quest, isn't it?
Say 'aye' if you want this to be the nickname we're gonna use when we go undercover and say 'nay' if you like being ignored*.
*I'm pretty sure that's how democracy works.
- Location
- his hidden lair
-Please, I want to have us be the successful leader of a mercenary company during our younger years. Everyone loves the dashing, roguish charm of Captain Murroe.
Lots of action, adventure, and exploring- has us leading and 'ruling' over something and provides an interesting, more 'chaotic' interpretation of our character's morality. Besides, it gives us the perfect excuse for us to eventually carve out our kingdom with an already deeply loyal, veteran army.
- Location
- Somewhere on Earth
Man, I was only thinking of being in an adventuring party, this is way cooler!
Although, I'd say we should be the calm and patient lancer to the group leader rather than the hot-headed scoundrel that would 'lead' the group, y'know, the one that's always in the background but if you look closely really leads the whole show.
- Location
- his hidden lair
So stoic and calm leader who fills the whole of background badass- intervening precisely as needed to decisively tip the scales? That sounds pretty awesome.
Mm... flipside, being hot-headed and in the front is *fun*! And, being a dragon, we can take it.
- Location
- Somewhere on Earth
Dangit, now I'm inspired.
TIME TO GET ON THE TIRED IDEAS TRAIN CHOO CHOO
Down in the cracked and ruined land exist countries of men and women, joined and formed by nothing more than sheer stubborn will sufficient enough to stand tall against rampaging monsters, such bull-headed strength destructive enough to crush a mountain in the grip of thousands, and such nationalistic pride that one may be forgiven for thinking one group to be of an entirely different species than the next.
One may also be forgiven, perhaps, for being surprised that such countries don't have land to belong to or hearth to stand strong by, instead, such land exists in the hearts of those who endlessly march, seeking land not for a mere desire to conquer, but out of a desire to see what the world may have in store for them, for that is what binds such mortal kind together, is it not? Such will and tenacity, propelling them to endless heights, each block in their own feet-forged path only seeking to stoke their infinite flame...
And it is in this cracked and broken land where we speak of our story.
CHAPTER 1: In Which Meetings Are Made, And We Learn- As Such Might Be -One Of The Greatest And Worst Aspects Of The Mortal Condition.
This was a particularly dangerous game to be playing, especially here, of all places, where grass was seen as a surprise to find, natural disasters were seen as nothing more than some background noise among the really dangerous stuff, and death was something each and every being stared in the face, day after day, withering and cracking, every life was precious, as might be the wonder in a new babe's eyes.
Such was what the man thought as he looked among the landscape around him, and he gave a small smile as acknowledgement to irony, considering his job, bitter humor was the best he could afford.
Turning to view his three current followers, he spoke with a voice befitting of him, something like a small, hunched man might sound like, yet it nevertheless carried a tone that rang clearly through the group, crisp, clean, and terribly inefficient in getting any sort of usable message across, it was nevertheless a voice that had worked wonders at corralling his group.
"My friends, my allies, my brothers-in-arms, I am speaking to you today as you are my most trusted to undertake this task, I have found myself, as leader, in friction with another, he and I have made agreements to speak at an appointed time, at an appointed place, in order to assuage any troubles relating to..." Another bitter smile, "Troubles, we shall meet at the appointed meeting place of the Stony Emperor, an accorded neutral place, as you all know." And they did know, a bit too well, as it happened, a large, open area, overlooked by an enormous and scowling face, seemingly well protected from assassination attempts to the untrained eye yet it carried enough hidey-holes and shadowed places to be rife with potential dangers, in fact, it was so easily trapped and used for killing that it had become something of a way to make sure no-one would attempt to kill you in a meeting, as everyone assumed every area would have already been trapped by the other, leading to an odd conclusion of 'but what if...' that simply leads to neither party making a move.
"The other group shall be coming soon, as such, I hope you shall lay out juts as warm a greeting as you have always done." The other members didn't make a sound, it was a routine so laboriously done that a single look was barely even needed to communicate, the place wasn't just trapped by anyone, it was always trapped by him, all the time, the small groups that had gathered there to deliver food and had eked out a small life there were totally in his payroll, every hiding spot found and recorded, it was the equivalent of a death by a thousand cuts, obviously, no man would be stupid enough to be killed by the first attempt, but perhaps one thousand rough tries were better than one fully mapped one?
And as such, the man sat at the masterfully crafted table, still covered in scratches and chips and burnt edges, and prepared, the man who gave the impression that he, every day, exercised and practiced his speeches with an almost religious dedication, but had never really grasped the concept of applying them, if he had ever made the slightest effort, to, perhaps, look at a mirror, he may have realized just how much his persona really spoke about himself.
The woman, meanwhile, was having a good day.
It was nice, it was sunny, and it was pleasantly warm, and smiling broadly, she walked into, perhaps, one of the most dangerous areas to her life in existence, right up there with being next to an annoyed dragon or challenging a god to prove it's own existence.
So, realistically, she was already in the most dangerous area to her life in existence simply out of a sort of ignorance.
But this was slightly worse, all things considered.
...Tails.
...It landed on it's side.
"You're bullshitting."
"Maybe."
One may also be forgiven, perhaps, for being surprised that such countries don't have land to belong to or hearth to stand strong by, instead, such land exists in the hearts of those who endlessly march, seeking land not for a mere desire to conquer, but out of a desire to see what the world may have in store for them, for that is what binds such mortal kind together, is it not? Such will and tenacity, propelling them to endless heights, each block in their own feet-forged path only seeking to stoke their infinite flame...
And it is in this cracked and broken land where we speak of our story.
CHAPTER 1: In Which Meetings Are Made, And We Learn- As Such Might Be -One Of The Greatest And Worst Aspects Of The Mortal Condition.
This was a particularly dangerous game to be playing, especially here, of all places, where grass was seen as a surprise to find, natural disasters were seen as nothing more than some background noise among the really dangerous stuff, and death was something each and every being stared in the face, day after day, withering and cracking, every life was precious, as might be the wonder in a new babe's eyes.
Such was what the man thought as he looked among the landscape around him, and he gave a small smile as acknowledgement to irony, considering his job, bitter humor was the best he could afford.
Turning to view his three current followers, he spoke with a voice befitting of him, something like a small, hunched man might sound like, yet it nevertheless carried a tone that rang clearly through the group, crisp, clean, and terribly inefficient in getting any sort of usable message across, it was nevertheless a voice that had worked wonders at corralling his group.
"My friends, my allies, my brothers-in-arms, I am speaking to you today as you are my most trusted to undertake this task, I have found myself, as leader, in friction with another, he and I have made agreements to speak at an appointed time, at an appointed place, in order to assuage any troubles relating to..." Another bitter smile, "Troubles, we shall meet at the appointed meeting place of the Stony Emperor, an accorded neutral place, as you all know." And they did know, a bit too well, as it happened, a large, open area, overlooked by an enormous and scowling face, seemingly well protected from assassination attempts to the untrained eye yet it carried enough hidey-holes and shadowed places to be rife with potential dangers, in fact, it was so easily trapped and used for killing that it had become something of a way to make sure no-one would attempt to kill you in a meeting, as everyone assumed every area would have already been trapped by the other, leading to an odd conclusion of 'but what if...' that simply leads to neither party making a move.
"The other group shall be coming soon, as such, I hope you shall lay out juts as warm a greeting as you have always done." The other members didn't make a sound, it was a routine so laboriously done that a single look was barely even needed to communicate, the place wasn't just trapped by anyone, it was always trapped by him, all the time, the small groups that had gathered there to deliver food and had eked out a small life there were totally in his payroll, every hiding spot found and recorded, it was the equivalent of a death by a thousand cuts, obviously, no man would be stupid enough to be killed by the first attempt, but perhaps one thousand rough tries were better than one fully mapped one?
And as such, the man sat at the masterfully crafted table, still covered in scratches and chips and burnt edges, and prepared, the man who gave the impression that he, every day, exercised and practiced his speeches with an almost religious dedication, but had never really grasped the concept of applying them, if he had ever made the slightest effort, to, perhaps, look at a mirror, he may have realized just how much his persona really spoke about himself.
...Heads.
The woman, meanwhile, was having a good day.
It was nice, it was sunny, and it was pleasantly warm, and smiling broadly, she walked into, perhaps, one of the most dangerous areas to her life in existence, right up there with being next to an annoyed dragon or challenging a god to prove it's own existence.
So, realistically, she was already in the most dangerous area to her life in existence simply out of a sort of ignorance.
But this was slightly worse, all things considered.
...Tails.
The man was frankly flabbergasted, this self-proclaimed leader of hundreds walked in here, seemingly without a care in the world, and with her only protection being a bemused looking Elf at her side, casually flipping a coin, murmuring a word, then flipping it again, he wasn't very armored apart from a leather outfit and a backpack, apart from a sword he wasn't that armed, and walked with a casual grace that implied he honestly thought he could kill everyone here without a scratch, the man would have scoffed if the Elf hadn't nearly pinned him to a wall with his bright blue gaze seconds after arriving, it wasn't an angry stare, it was rather something that you saw when you had gained the full and very interested attention of something you really shouldn't have, but it was swept away soon after when the other leader tapped him on the shoulder, and seemed to ask him of something, pointing in the direction of the buffet table laid out away from the meeting table*, the Elf gave a small nod, palming his coin, and moved to pull a smooth stone table on three legs obviously larger than the bag itself from the bag itself, setting it down next to the buffet, and grabbing a unnerving amount of meats to pile on to the table, before snapping his fingers to produce a fireball, laying it under the stone and waiting.
A mage? Why bring only a mage? The man was starting to panic now, he was prepared for leaders to bring a whole army but not one man who could throw a fireball, they were dangerous, sure, but why just one and why get him to cook your steaks when you had someone so powerful?!
A mage? Why bring only a mage? The man was starting to panic now, he was prepared for leaders to bring a whole army but not one man who could throw a fireball, they were dangerous, sure, but why just one and why get him to cook your steaks when you had someone so powerful?!
...Heads.
The woman had gotten to the table by now, and was very confused, he seemed to be staring at her subordinate.
And not her.
This needed to be fixed, obviously! And under such an assumption, she threw out her hand for a friendly handshake.
"HEY! Heard you were the one to talk to, right!" Less a question, more a statement of fact, as if the man had agreed in the time between 'to' and 'right'.
And not her.
This needed to be fixed, obviously! And under such an assumption, she threw out her hand for a friendly handshake.
"HEY! Heard you were the one to talk to, right!" Less a question, more a statement of fact, as if the man had agreed in the time between 'to' and 'right'.
...Tails.
The man had nearly jumped when presented with her hand, his mind already filtering through hundreds of possibilities before it suddenly got thrown off again when she had yelled in his ear, it took him a full second to reply, wondering about the possibilities of a hidden dagger before dazedly shaking her hand, "Y-yes, I am, you are the leader of your particular accompaniment, am I incorrect?"
She seemed confused by this, slowly retreating her hand and moving it to her chin before she replied, "Yes, yes I am, I lead the Bleached Skulls, and youuuu...""..Lead the Ferogothax Legion, yes."
The Bleached Skulls as a name didn't give the man much of a high standard considering her intelligence, but her confusion at his own group's name sealed the deal, he was just dealing with an idiot, he just didn't feel better about the whole thing.
...
If that mage was going to cook the meat for any longer, it was going to set on fire.
She seemed confused by this, slowly retreating her hand and moving it to her chin before she replied, "Yes, yes I am, I lead the Bleached Skulls, and youuuu...""..Lead the Ferogothax Legion, yes."
The Bleached Skulls as a name didn't give the man much of a high standard considering her intelligence, but her confusion at his own group's name sealed the deal, he was just dealing with an idiot, he just didn't feel better about the whole thing.
...
If that mage was going to cook the meat for any longer, it was going to set on fire.
...Hold on for a second, dropped the coin.
"Damnit, you always do that, just let me flip it, ham-hands."
"I prefer veal, thank you very much."
"Damnit, you always do that, just let me flip it, ham-hands."
"I prefer veal, thank you very much."
It had been a half-hour since the meeting had started, and the leader had seemed to be perfectly happy eating voraciously as if she had been starved for days, the elf, meanwhile, picked at a small bit of greenery the Ferogothax Legion had gone through quite the struggle to acquire, the man had (Of course) had his food delivered to him by servants on finely constructed plates, made perfectly, no chance of poison with the people he had preparing the food, but meanwhile, he was slightly worried that the leader might be killed by the small amount of lethargy-inducing dusting added to the whole of the buffet food, who was happily devouring what had to be more than three people put together could handle, he intended it to be small, have them make mistakes, but most troubling of all was the stomach ache he was beginning to gather, it can't have been poison, it was checked! And with every passing second he was beginning to believe that the leader might actually be some sort of genius only hiding behind a facade of stupidity to fool his enemies.
He really was itching to give the signal, but he couldn't until they started showing signs of sickness, he had time, anyway, even at the speed the leader was going through her food, it was, what, about 20 more minutes before she finished?
He really was itching to give the signal, but he couldn't until they started showing signs of sickness, he had time, anyway, even at the speed the leader was going through her food, it was, what, about 20 more minutes before she finished?
...It landed on it's side.
"You're bullshitting."
"Maybe."
She had finished her meal within twenty minutes, and by then the man had been having his stomach only increase in pain, she had poisoned him, without a doubt, there was no other way around it, she had played him, when she finally finished licking her lips, she smiled widely and was about to say something when he gave the motion.
And he gave it again.
And again.
They weren't responding, he was outclassed, in every way, he couldn't ever win.
He started crying.
And he gave it again.
And again.
They weren't responding, he was outclassed, in every way, he couldn't ever win.
He started crying.
...Heads.
Now the leader was just incredibly confused, she was just going to tell the man how good the food was before he just broke down, honestly, she was... She was...
Tired...
Tired...
...Okay, look at that, it's definitely on it's side now.
The Elf was smiling, it was a bit tiring being around her for any period of time, so it wasn't really negligence on his part that he didn't check for poisons, she just forgot to tell him to, simple.
Oh, right, the man, he was still a problem, sword through the skull should fix that nicely.
The Elf, humming happily, proceeded to leave the place, throwing the leader over his shoulder, and came back to the army with a few more dead enemies and a few more slightly richer cooks, who had only been told that the man enjoyed raw food, who knew, weird thing, right?
It was always enjoyable seeing what could happen next in this world.
Oh, right, the man, he was still a problem, sword through the skull should fix that nicely.
The Elf, humming happily, proceeded to leave the place, throwing the leader over his shoulder, and came back to the army with a few more dead enemies and a few more slightly richer cooks, who had only been told that the man enjoyed raw food, who knew, weird thing, right?
It was always enjoyable seeing what could happen next in this world.
CHOO CHOOOOOO I'M TIRED G'NIGHT
- Location
- Leeds
Only if our hoard will be oil rather than gold.How about 'Murica?
Omegahugger
Inattentive Idiot
"Look, Pa! I'm a black dragon!"*
"... Where did I go wrong?"
*Omegahugger does not endorse blackdragonface
- Location
- Leeds
I feel dirty for being associated with this joke.
1.03 - Lessons
- Location
- London, England
The time passes quickly in the lair, surrounded by wealth and sources of knowledge to quench your seemingly unending appetite. Indeed, it is not until Daralathxyl takes you outside the volcano - carefully bypassing the myriad of traps and guardians that protect his sanctuary from unwanted thieves and interlopers - that you finally understand what all this talk of 'days' and 'daylight' in your books and scrolls actually refers to.
Every day you learn something new, and every day you are brought food or otherwise permitted to hunt it down yourself to sustain your endless studying. There is simply so much to learn, and you grow so wrapped up in your pursuit of knowledge that it takes you a while to realize that you are, in fact, growing. Already you are the size of many of the humans and elves that form the living portions of Daralathxyl's hoard, and while it will be many centuries before you begin to match the great Wyrm in size you are already a force to be reckoned with.
-/-
Moladon is a human from the nation of Druma, words which presumably mean a great deal more to him than they do to you when first the two of your are introduced, and at Daralathxyl's instruction it is he who handles your education in matters mercantile and legal. He teaches you how to read and write, how to discern the intentions and desires of other living things and, at your personal request, the details of laws and customs observed by many of the various nations and religious groups out beyond the boundaries of the lair.
Curiously, he does not appear to be here against his will, as is the case with so many of Daralathxyl's hoard. His people have apparently come to an arrangement with your adopted father - they provide the Wyrm with lavish tribute on a regular basis, and in return he stays his wrath and hunger from their lands. Sometimes that tribute takes the form of living beings, primarily attractive and well educated humanoids from all across Druma, who serve the dragon for a time and are then replaced whenever he tires of them.
This seems strange to you, but your initial questions only lead to a discussion of taxation, and from there the structure and purpose of government, and eventually the nature of the Prophecies of Kalistrade that the dark-haired human seems to follow so ardently.
"In the end, Lord Murazond, it all comes down to wealth." He explains patiently, the pale silk of his robes and gloves rustling faintly in time with his gestures. "Those with wealth are able to acquire power, in the form of bribes and mercenaries and expensive yet useful tools and equipment. Those with power are able to acquire wealth, as with your mighty father, the Scarlet Emperor and his most impressive hoard. From a sufficiently abstract point of view, wealth is power and power is wealth. We Kalistocrats merely acknowledge a universal truth."
"And what of... virtue?" You ask slowly, trying out some of the new words and concepts that your books and scrolls have taught you. "Where does that come into it?"
"Virtue is merely the name that men give to the beliefs and desires that drive their actions." Moladon says with a shrug. "Every nation and faith has a different view of what comprises virtue. But it is easier to pursue and promote virtue when one has power and wealth with which to do so, and that brings us back to the heart of the Prophecies. If the acquisition of wealth is necessary for virtue, then by extension such things are virtuous in and of themselves. There are exceptions of course, as with all things in life, but the basic principles have seen my people reach great heights over the course of our history, and that is all the evidence I truly require."
-/-
Siarani is a 'Tiefling', a human being with some manner of fiendish being in her ancestry. Her heritage grants her a measure of arcane power, and it is for that reason that Daralathxyl chooses her to tutor you in magical theory and the nature of the planes.
In truth your lessons typically take the form of long, meandering walks through the halls and tunnels of the dragon's volcanic lair, for your tutor's blood affords her an uncommon degree of resilience to the heat. While she is not immune to the touch of flame, as is the case with you and your father, she finds the environment much more comfortable than being cooped up in a luxurious cell all day, and you are happy to indulge her in exchange for the lessons. They are rather fascinating, after all.
"So much in the world beyond comes down to disagreements between the powerful." She says to you one day, as the two of you walk beside a river of molten stone. "You will see that for yourself one day, young lord - every being and group with power invariably tries to impose their will on those around them, to control the world and make it more to their own liking. Even the gods, perhaps the mightiest of all things, do this."
"You are not given to faith, then?" You question politely, trotting along beside her.
"I am given to facts and cruel realities, young lord." Siarani replies with a fanged smile and an amused flick of her long and slender tail. "Your father has commanded that I teach you of the faith of the 'lesser races', and I will do so as objectively as I know how, but to think that one of them holds some measure of ultimate divine truth in their teachings? I cannot see it. Religion is a matter of deciding which deity's vision you most prefer and working to bring the world closer to that ideal, nothing more."
"And which vision do you prefer?" You ask curiously, looking up at your tutor.
"Ah... best not to ask, young lord." Siarani replies, somewhat uncomfortable. "King Daralathxyl has commanded that I have no god but he so long as I am here. I will not disobey."
-/-
Eventually, you start to wonder how it is that the lesser races survive in the same world that has things as powerful and resilient as dragons, and enquiries along those lines lead you to Marshal Thrace, a warrior-knight of Molthune. Though she has been a part of Daralathxyl's hoard for decades, she refuses to allow herself to relax her military training or exercise routine, and can often be found sparring with invisible opponents or some of her fellow prisoners in their quarters.
And she is a prisoner - a prisoner of war, to use her term for it. Apparently the nation of Molthune once incurred Daralathxyl's wrath for some insult or another, and when he descended upon them in vengeance she was one of the few who stood in battle against him. She was defeated, obviously, her skill and speed no match for the sheer unchecked power of the Great Wyrm, but in her defiance your father apparently saw something worth taking for his own, and so abandoned his attack and brought her back to the lair to be added to his hoard.
Alone of all the Wyrm's possessions, Thrace is the only one to treat you with anything less than absolutely respect and deference, and you cannot help but find the change in attitude oddly refreshing.
"Men kill monsters, little wyrm." She says bluntly one day, as you watch her run through her practice drills with a heavy sword almost as long as she is tall. "Be they demons from the deepest pits or drakes with blood-red scales, for thousands of years monsters have hunted and tormented my kind, and for a thousand years we have stood against them with courage and steel. Your father is a mightier monster than any other I have seen or heard of, but if given the chance we will slay him too."
"Why?" You ask curiously, tilting your head as you observe the way her grey hair flickers from side to side with every practiced movement. "Why fight? You always talk of fighting... monsters..., never of hiding or talking. If you could not slay my father all those years ago, why do you still talk of doing so today?"
"Because that is my job." She says bluntly, setting the sword aside for a moment and making her way over to a small stream in the corner of the cavern. "I am a soldier. I learned how to fight, both on my own and with my comrades beside me, in order to protect my people from the things that would harm them. I leave hiding and talking to the spies and diplomats, and focus on being the finest soldier and leader of soldiers I can be."
"...teach me?"
The old warrior looks up, surprised. "Excuse me?"
"Teach me." You repeat, studying her with golden eyes. "You say you can make many weak people into a weapon that can match a strong one. I... want to know how."
Thrace considers this for a few moments. "Ah, what the hell. It's not like I have anything else to be doing today."
-/-
And then, of course, there are your lessons with Daralathxyl himself. The Great Wyrm declared his intention to raise you as a dragon should be raised, and he seems determined to stick to that promise no matter how many minor disagreements the two of you might have.
Shortly after your sixth birthday, he begins taking you outside the lair on a regular basis, using magic to transport the two of you to some distant locale where you can practice and be educated in peace. Apparently his lair is located somewhere within the range that the lesser races call the 'Five King Mountains', but there are enough wards and enchantments on the whole place to hide its precise location even from your keen Draconic eyes.
Today, he has elected to take you flying, escorting you high above the cloud-layer where the winds and thermal updrafts become truly challenging and then watching as you negotiate them with slowly building skill. Flying in such conditions is hard but strangely rewarding, and the odd encouraging comment from the crimson behemoth flying beside you is a treasure unlike any other. By the time the sun begins to set on the horizon you are dipping and spinning with gleeful ease, enjoying the way that the dimming sunlight reflects from your golden scales in a multitude of shimmering hues.
"Very good." Daralathxyl rumbles from alongside you, his own mighty wings holding him aloft without the slightest sign of strain (even if he disdains your playful acrobatics). "You are learning well, and will soon be a true dragon ready to go your own way. But first... there is another lesson you must learn. Look below - what do you see?"
Curious, you catch a rising thermal and begin a lazy orbit in the sky while you peer at the ground far below. From this high up even your keen eyes cannot make out a great deal of detail, but the landscape seems to be dominated by rolling green fields and small collections of crude houses every dozen miles or so.
"It... looks like human villages, father?" You reply, uncertain of what kind of answer he is expecting.
"Indeed. This, young one, is the nation the humans call Andoran. They are a proud and arrogant people, and more than a few of them have taken up dragon-hunting in recent years." Daralathxyl says levelly, a few wisps of smoke leaking out from between his mighty jaws. "Two weeks ago, a group of them hailing from this village managed to slay one of my kin. A foolish, immature brat to be sure, but still a dragon."
There is an icy sensation building in your gut as you look down at the village below you again. You are not expert on human habitation, but there must be at least two or three hundred of them down there. Civilians, to use Thrace's term, men and women and children whose only crime is to be related to one foolish enough to hunt and slay a dragon hundreds of miles away.
Daralathxyl is going to kill them all.
Every day you learn something new, and every day you are brought food or otherwise permitted to hunt it down yourself to sustain your endless studying. There is simply so much to learn, and you grow so wrapped up in your pursuit of knowledge that it takes you a while to realize that you are, in fact, growing. Already you are the size of many of the humans and elves that form the living portions of Daralathxyl's hoard, and while it will be many centuries before you begin to match the great Wyrm in size you are already a force to be reckoned with.
Article: By the end of this update you are six years old, and as such have progressed from 'Wyrmling' to 'Very Young'. The modifiers that this applies to your character sheet will be factored in once I find the time to sit down and write them up properly.
-/-
Moladon is a human from the nation of Druma, words which presumably mean a great deal more to him than they do to you when first the two of your are introduced, and at Daralathxyl's instruction it is he who handles your education in matters mercantile and legal. He teaches you how to read and write, how to discern the intentions and desires of other living things and, at your personal request, the details of laws and customs observed by many of the various nations and religious groups out beyond the boundaries of the lair.
Curiously, he does not appear to be here against his will, as is the case with so many of Daralathxyl's hoard. His people have apparently come to an arrangement with your adopted father - they provide the Wyrm with lavish tribute on a regular basis, and in return he stays his wrath and hunger from their lands. Sometimes that tribute takes the form of living beings, primarily attractive and well educated humanoids from all across Druma, who serve the dragon for a time and are then replaced whenever he tires of them.
This seems strange to you, but your initial questions only lead to a discussion of taxation, and from there the structure and purpose of government, and eventually the nature of the Prophecies of Kalistrade that the dark-haired human seems to follow so ardently.
"In the end, Lord Murazond, it all comes down to wealth." He explains patiently, the pale silk of his robes and gloves rustling faintly in time with his gestures. "Those with wealth are able to acquire power, in the form of bribes and mercenaries and expensive yet useful tools and equipment. Those with power are able to acquire wealth, as with your mighty father, the Scarlet Emperor and his most impressive hoard. From a sufficiently abstract point of view, wealth is power and power is wealth. We Kalistocrats merely acknowledge a universal truth."
"And what of... virtue?" You ask slowly, trying out some of the new words and concepts that your books and scrolls have taught you. "Where does that come into it?"
"Virtue is merely the name that men give to the beliefs and desires that drive their actions." Moladon says with a shrug. "Every nation and faith has a different view of what comprises virtue. But it is easier to pursue and promote virtue when one has power and wealth with which to do so, and that brings us back to the heart of the Prophecies. If the acquisition of wealth is necessary for virtue, then by extension such things are virtuous in and of themselves. There are exceptions of course, as with all things in life, but the basic principles have seen my people reach great heights over the course of our history, and that is all the evidence I truly require."
Article: As a dragon, Murazond finds himself driven to collect wealth and treasure for his hoard. But what, in his mind, is the purpose of such acquisition?
[ ] There is no greater purpose - wealth is it's own reward.
[ ] To bring health and happiness to oneself and others.
[ ] To acquire power over, and respect from, all around you.
[ ] Write in
-/-
Siarani is a 'Tiefling', a human being with some manner of fiendish being in her ancestry. Her heritage grants her a measure of arcane power, and it is for that reason that Daralathxyl chooses her to tutor you in magical theory and the nature of the planes.
In truth your lessons typically take the form of long, meandering walks through the halls and tunnels of the dragon's volcanic lair, for your tutor's blood affords her an uncommon degree of resilience to the heat. While she is not immune to the touch of flame, as is the case with you and your father, she finds the environment much more comfortable than being cooped up in a luxurious cell all day, and you are happy to indulge her in exchange for the lessons. They are rather fascinating, after all.
"So much in the world beyond comes down to disagreements between the powerful." She says to you one day, as the two of you walk beside a river of molten stone. "You will see that for yourself one day, young lord - every being and group with power invariably tries to impose their will on those around them, to control the world and make it more to their own liking. Even the gods, perhaps the mightiest of all things, do this."
"You are not given to faith, then?" You question politely, trotting along beside her.
"I am given to facts and cruel realities, young lord." Siarani replies with a fanged smile and an amused flick of her long and slender tail. "Your father has commanded that I teach you of the faith of the 'lesser races', and I will do so as objectively as I know how, but to think that one of them holds some measure of ultimate divine truth in their teachings? I cannot see it. Religion is a matter of deciding which deity's vision you most prefer and working to bring the world closer to that ideal, nothing more."
"And which vision do you prefer?" You ask curiously, looking up at your tutor.
"Ah... best not to ask, young lord." Siarani replies, somewhat uncomfortable. "King Daralathxyl has commanded that I have no god but he so long as I am here. I will not disobey."
Article: There are many gods in Golarion, and many churches which worship and support them. Which, if any, does Murazond find appealing? You can vote for more than one, and do not necessarily have to actually worship any of them.
[ ] Write in (list below)
Abadar, Master of the First Vault, is the God of Cities and Civilization. He promotes strong law, a powerful state that protects and promotes the interests of its citizens, and all manner of craftsmen and merchants.
Asmodeus, Lord of Hell, is perhaps the most widely accepted (or at least respected) of the evil deities. He proclaims that the strong should rule over the weak, and that the rule of law must be made inviolate, whether that be the law of the land or the stipulations of a contract.
Calistria, the Savored Sting, is the goddess of lust, trickery and revenge. She loves and hates with equal passion, and is an admirer of any who pair strength with cunning and guile. In many ways she is the closest thing the Elves have to a patron deity.
Caiden Caylean is a mortal adventurer who ascended to god-hood while utterly drunk, which sets the tone for much of his faith and teachings. He seeks to promote courage, companionship and the appreciation of a good time wherever he goes.
Desna, the Song of the Spheres, is goddess of the night sky and all who seek to travel for its own sake. She is a patron of artists, dreamers and explorers, and her faithful can be found in every corner of this world and beyond.
Erastil, Old One-Eye, is the God of Hearth and Home. He believes strongly in families, communities and everyone doing their part, and his faith is strongest in rural regions all across the world.
Gorum, the Lord in Iron, is the living embodiment of war and battle. He does not fight for a cause or lord, but because fighting is its own reward, and his faithful are some of the most fearsome warriors (and blacksmiths) in all of Golarion.
Gozreh, the Wind and the Waves, is not so much a god as a primordial force of nature. He does not desire worshippers and makes few if any proclamations, yet he is widely revered by all those who are dependent upon the natural world to survive and prosper.
Iomedae is a warrior goddess, a tireless crusader against evil in all its forms. She calls on the strong to protect the weak and for everyone to do their part in making the world a better place, whether that means as a crusader on the battlefield or a lawyer in the court.
Irori is another mortal who ascended to god-hood, but unlike Iomedae or Caiden Cailean he achieved divinity purely through personal enlightenment. He does not preach so much as teach, and is a strong proponent of discipline and self-improvement.
Lamashtu is the Mother of Monsters, a demon lord who ascended to godhood through murder and theft. She is a fertility deity, albeit of a strange and twisted kind, and is worshipped as mother-goddess by all manner of strange and twisted monsters throughout the world.
Nethys is the god of arcane magic, and is reputed to be quite mad. His nature and beliefs change according to which of his many aspects is in ascendency at any one point, but at all times the destructive and creative power of magic is studied and exalted by his faithful.
Norgober is the lord of secrets and murder. Another mortal who ascended to divinity, none know a great deal about his past or appearance, but his patronage of assassins, thieves and spies is well known.
Pharasma, the Lady of Graves, is the goddess of life, death and the cycle of reincarnation. She is the one who decides which of the outer planes a mortal soul will be sent to after death, and her commitment to neutrality is famed throughout the cosmos - as is her hatred of the undead.
Rovagug, the Caged Beast, is an enemy of the gods and all their works. Imprisoned within Golarion, his fitful stirrings are known to cause earthquakes, and his foul spawn occasionally rise to torment the world above - the Tarrasque most infamous among them.
Sarenrae, the Dawnflower, is the goddess of the sun. She is a merciful and nurturing deity, but when confronted with true and unrepentant evil her righteous fury is boundless and unstoppable. More redeemed villains owe their salvation to her than all other deities put together.
Shelyn, the Eternal Rose, is the patron of art and beauty in all their forms. She is perhaps the most popular and admired goddess among all the pantheons (though certain deities have an odd way of showing their love), and while artists and craftsmen are her main followers she maintains a surprisingly strong martial tradition as well.
Torag, the Father of Creation, is the patron deity of the Dwarves. He is stern and honourable, and favours those who build both items and civilizations above all others.
Urgathoa, the Pallid Princess, is the goddess of gluttony, disease and the undead. Her worshippers tend to be necromancers, free-willed undead and all those who shun the peace of the grave in favour of the pleasures of the mortal realm.
Zon-Kuthon, the Midnight Lord, is the god of one thing and one thing only - pain. He is a sadist and torturer without peer, but his twisted physique and shattered mind have given him a strong appreciation for masochism, and he counts both among the ranks of his priests. The one thing he still loves in this world or beyond is the innocent beauty of his sister Shelyn, who has never given up on trying to save and heal him.
Asmodeus, Lord of Hell, is perhaps the most widely accepted (or at least respected) of the evil deities. He proclaims that the strong should rule over the weak, and that the rule of law must be made inviolate, whether that be the law of the land or the stipulations of a contract.
Calistria, the Savored Sting, is the goddess of lust, trickery and revenge. She loves and hates with equal passion, and is an admirer of any who pair strength with cunning and guile. In many ways she is the closest thing the Elves have to a patron deity.
Caiden Caylean is a mortal adventurer who ascended to god-hood while utterly drunk, which sets the tone for much of his faith and teachings. He seeks to promote courage, companionship and the appreciation of a good time wherever he goes.
Desna, the Song of the Spheres, is goddess of the night sky and all who seek to travel for its own sake. She is a patron of artists, dreamers and explorers, and her faithful can be found in every corner of this world and beyond.
Erastil, Old One-Eye, is the God of Hearth and Home. He believes strongly in families, communities and everyone doing their part, and his faith is strongest in rural regions all across the world.
Gorum, the Lord in Iron, is the living embodiment of war and battle. He does not fight for a cause or lord, but because fighting is its own reward, and his faithful are some of the most fearsome warriors (and blacksmiths) in all of Golarion.
Gozreh, the Wind and the Waves, is not so much a god as a primordial force of nature. He does not desire worshippers and makes few if any proclamations, yet he is widely revered by all those who are dependent upon the natural world to survive and prosper.
Iomedae is a warrior goddess, a tireless crusader against evil in all its forms. She calls on the strong to protect the weak and for everyone to do their part in making the world a better place, whether that means as a crusader on the battlefield or a lawyer in the court.
Irori is another mortal who ascended to god-hood, but unlike Iomedae or Caiden Cailean he achieved divinity purely through personal enlightenment. He does not preach so much as teach, and is a strong proponent of discipline and self-improvement.
Lamashtu is the Mother of Monsters, a demon lord who ascended to godhood through murder and theft. She is a fertility deity, albeit of a strange and twisted kind, and is worshipped as mother-goddess by all manner of strange and twisted monsters throughout the world.
Nethys is the god of arcane magic, and is reputed to be quite mad. His nature and beliefs change according to which of his many aspects is in ascendency at any one point, but at all times the destructive and creative power of magic is studied and exalted by his faithful.
Norgober is the lord of secrets and murder. Another mortal who ascended to divinity, none know a great deal about his past or appearance, but his patronage of assassins, thieves and spies is well known.
Pharasma, the Lady of Graves, is the goddess of life, death and the cycle of reincarnation. She is the one who decides which of the outer planes a mortal soul will be sent to after death, and her commitment to neutrality is famed throughout the cosmos - as is her hatred of the undead.
Rovagug, the Caged Beast, is an enemy of the gods and all their works. Imprisoned within Golarion, his fitful stirrings are known to cause earthquakes, and his foul spawn occasionally rise to torment the world above - the Tarrasque most infamous among them.
Sarenrae, the Dawnflower, is the goddess of the sun. She is a merciful and nurturing deity, but when confronted with true and unrepentant evil her righteous fury is boundless and unstoppable. More redeemed villains owe their salvation to her than all other deities put together.
Shelyn, the Eternal Rose, is the patron of art and beauty in all their forms. She is perhaps the most popular and admired goddess among all the pantheons (though certain deities have an odd way of showing their love), and while artists and craftsmen are her main followers she maintains a surprisingly strong martial tradition as well.
Torag, the Father of Creation, is the patron deity of the Dwarves. He is stern and honourable, and favours those who build both items and civilizations above all others.
Urgathoa, the Pallid Princess, is the goddess of gluttony, disease and the undead. Her worshippers tend to be necromancers, free-willed undead and all those who shun the peace of the grave in favour of the pleasures of the mortal realm.
Zon-Kuthon, the Midnight Lord, is the god of one thing and one thing only - pain. He is a sadist and torturer without peer, but his twisted physique and shattered mind have given him a strong appreciation for masochism, and he counts both among the ranks of his priests. The one thing he still loves in this world or beyond is the innocent beauty of his sister Shelyn, who has never given up on trying to save and heal him.
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Eventually, you start to wonder how it is that the lesser races survive in the same world that has things as powerful and resilient as dragons, and enquiries along those lines lead you to Marshal Thrace, a warrior-knight of Molthune. Though she has been a part of Daralathxyl's hoard for decades, she refuses to allow herself to relax her military training or exercise routine, and can often be found sparring with invisible opponents or some of her fellow prisoners in their quarters.
And she is a prisoner - a prisoner of war, to use her term for it. Apparently the nation of Molthune once incurred Daralathxyl's wrath for some insult or another, and when he descended upon them in vengeance she was one of the few who stood in battle against him. She was defeated, obviously, her skill and speed no match for the sheer unchecked power of the Great Wyrm, but in her defiance your father apparently saw something worth taking for his own, and so abandoned his attack and brought her back to the lair to be added to his hoard.
Alone of all the Wyrm's possessions, Thrace is the only one to treat you with anything less than absolutely respect and deference, and you cannot help but find the change in attitude oddly refreshing.
"Men kill monsters, little wyrm." She says bluntly one day, as you watch her run through her practice drills with a heavy sword almost as long as she is tall. "Be they demons from the deepest pits or drakes with blood-red scales, for thousands of years monsters have hunted and tormented my kind, and for a thousand years we have stood against them with courage and steel. Your father is a mightier monster than any other I have seen or heard of, but if given the chance we will slay him too."
"Why?" You ask curiously, tilting your head as you observe the way her grey hair flickers from side to side with every practiced movement. "Why fight? You always talk of fighting... monsters..., never of hiding or talking. If you could not slay my father all those years ago, why do you still talk of doing so today?"
"Because that is my job." She says bluntly, setting the sword aside for a moment and making her way over to a small stream in the corner of the cavern. "I am a soldier. I learned how to fight, both on my own and with my comrades beside me, in order to protect my people from the things that would harm them. I leave hiding and talking to the spies and diplomats, and focus on being the finest soldier and leader of soldiers I can be."
"...teach me?"
The old warrior looks up, surprised. "Excuse me?"
"Teach me." You repeat, studying her with golden eyes. "You say you can make many weak people into a weapon that can match a strong one. I... want to know how."
Thrace considers this for a few moments. "Ah, what the hell. It's not like I have anything else to be doing today."
Article: Thrace's lessons place heavy emphasis on the importance of law, order and discipline. She believes that everyone has their place, their own role to fulfill, and that cooperation and unity are necessary for the success of any successful venture. What does Murazond think of this?
[ ] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
[ ] What you do matters more than how or why. Similarly, you are less concerned with having a code and more with what that code actually says.
[ ] Perhaps codes work fine for others, but you are a dragon. You trust your own judgement far more than that of an another, no matter how wise.
[ ] Write in
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And then, of course, there are your lessons with Daralathxyl himself. The Great Wyrm declared his intention to raise you as a dragon should be raised, and he seems determined to stick to that promise no matter how many minor disagreements the two of you might have.
Shortly after your sixth birthday, he begins taking you outside the lair on a regular basis, using magic to transport the two of you to some distant locale where you can practice and be educated in peace. Apparently his lair is located somewhere within the range that the lesser races call the 'Five King Mountains', but there are enough wards and enchantments on the whole place to hide its precise location even from your keen Draconic eyes.
Today, he has elected to take you flying, escorting you high above the cloud-layer where the winds and thermal updrafts become truly challenging and then watching as you negotiate them with slowly building skill. Flying in such conditions is hard but strangely rewarding, and the odd encouraging comment from the crimson behemoth flying beside you is a treasure unlike any other. By the time the sun begins to set on the horizon you are dipping and spinning with gleeful ease, enjoying the way that the dimming sunlight reflects from your golden scales in a multitude of shimmering hues.
"Very good." Daralathxyl rumbles from alongside you, his own mighty wings holding him aloft without the slightest sign of strain (even if he disdains your playful acrobatics). "You are learning well, and will soon be a true dragon ready to go your own way. But first... there is another lesson you must learn. Look below - what do you see?"
Curious, you catch a rising thermal and begin a lazy orbit in the sky while you peer at the ground far below. From this high up even your keen eyes cannot make out a great deal of detail, but the landscape seems to be dominated by rolling green fields and small collections of crude houses every dozen miles or so.
"It... looks like human villages, father?" You reply, uncertain of what kind of answer he is expecting.
"Indeed. This, young one, is the nation the humans call Andoran. They are a proud and arrogant people, and more than a few of them have taken up dragon-hunting in recent years." Daralathxyl says levelly, a few wisps of smoke leaking out from between his mighty jaws. "Two weeks ago, a group of them hailing from this village managed to slay one of my kin. A foolish, immature brat to be sure, but still a dragon."
There is an icy sensation building in your gut as you look down at the village below you again. You are not expert on human habitation, but there must be at least two or three hundred of them down there. Civilians, to use Thrace's term, men and women and children whose only crime is to be related to one foolish enough to hunt and slay a dragon hundreds of miles away.
Daralathxyl is going to kill them all.
Article: You have a brief opportunity to speak here, before Daralathxyl begins his attack on the people below. What, if anything, do you say or do?
[ ] Write in
- Location
- Panama City
[X] To bring health and happiness to oneself and others
[X]Iomedae
[X] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
As for the write-in, I'll wait for someone else to tackle it first
[X]Iomedae
[X] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
As for the write-in, I'll wait for someone else to tackle it first
[X] To bring health and happiness to oneself and others
[X] Shelyn
[X] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
[X] Shelyn
[X] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
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Knight-Radiant
Recovering Rageaholic
[X] Irori
[X] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
[X] Father, anihilating this little vilage in the middle of nowhere would change nothing, you should instead attack their capitol and force the kingdom itself to hunt and punish each single would be dragonslayer.
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-Changed Vote-
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[X] To bring health and happiness to oneself and others
[X] Bahamut
[X] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
[X] Bahamut
[X] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
- Location
- Panama City
I have an idea for the write-in:
[]"Father, wait. If you kill them all, who will give tales of your great prowess and the terrible price to be paid for laying hands on members of your kin? Why not drive them from their homes, burn the village down, and leave them to their fates?"
basically, going for "saving them by making it seem leaving them stranded out in the middle of nowhere a cruel mercy", which should appeal to prideful red dragon, I think
[]"Father, wait. If you kill them all, who will give tales of your great prowess and the terrible price to be paid for laying hands on members of your kin? Why not drive them from their homes, burn the village down, and leave them to their fates?"
basically, going for "saving them by making it seem leaving them stranded out in the middle of nowhere a cruel mercy", which should appeal to prideful red dragon, I think
Knight-Radiant
Recovering Rageaholic
I like this! In addition, maybe this causes the aspiring dragonslayers to seek him out which will let him kill them anyway.
The Froggy Ninja
The Blade Will Never Die
[X] To attain knowledge and attain understanding of the universe weath, literature and artifacts must be gathered.
[X] Nethys
[X] What you do matters more than how or why. Similarly, you are less concerned with having a code and more with what that code actually says.
[X] Nothing. Pecking order.
I really want to be a mad scientist dragon.
[X] Nethys
[X] What you do matters more than how or why. Similarly, you are less concerned with having a code and more with what that code actually says.
[X] Nothing. Pecking order.
I really want to be a mad scientist dragon.
[X] To preserve beauty and rarity within your hoard, than to see them fall to ruin by an uncaring world.
[X] Shelyn, the Eternal Rose
[X] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
[X] Enquire about the specific group. Surely the most important factor is to see to it that said group is destroyed publicly and visibly for their crime, and then to see to it that the human audience spreads word of their fate to dissuade other fools?
Hows this for a hoard motivation?
Relatively unusual.
Shelyne to fit with that, though Caidan is tempting.
[X] Shelyn, the Eternal Rose
[X] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
[X] Enquire about the specific group. Surely the most important factor is to see to it that said group is destroyed publicly and visibly for their crime, and then to see to it that the human audience spreads word of their fate to dissuade other fools?
Hows this for a hoard motivation?
Relatively unusual.
Shelyne to fit with that, though Caidan is tempting.
- Location
- Virginia
[X] To bring health and happiness to oneself and others
[X] Abador, Nethys
[X] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
[X] Abador, Nethys
[X] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
- Location
- Brazil
[X] To acquire power over, and respect from, all around you.
[X] From Asmodeus you agree that the Might must rule the weak, from Caiden Caylean that one must be courageous ans seek enjoyment in all things, from Irori that one must strive for constant self-improvement and form Nethys that magic is realy incredible.
[X] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
[X] Father, anihilating this little vilage in the middle of nowhere would change nothing, you should instead attack their capitol and force the kingdom itself to hunt and punish each single would be dragonslayer.
So looking at the votes do you people realize the second one will greatly influence our personality ? Also can we please not bandwagon into the most good two shoes white knight of a dragon we can be ?
[X] From Asmodeus you agree that the Might must rule the weak, from Caiden Caylean that one must be courageous ans seek enjoyment in all things, from Irori that one must strive for constant self-improvement and form Nethys that magic is realy incredible.
[X] The value of having a code of conduct and sticking to it are self-evident. You might disagree with Thrace on the specifics, but at least it gives you somewhere to start.
[X] Father, anihilating this little vilage in the middle of nowhere would change nothing, you should instead attack their capitol and force the kingdom itself to hunt and punish each single would be dragonslayer.
So looking at the votes do you people realize the second one will greatly influence our personality ? Also can we please not bandwagon into the most good two shoes white knight of a dragon we can be ?