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Dragon Harem Quest - Or: Saying You Were Gay Wasn't The Conversation-Ender You Hoped For

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Chapter Ten - Can I Not Get A Literal Moment's Peace From Strange Men Barging Into My Home?
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    • In times of trouble and hardship, there's only one thing to do that really makes you happy.

    Count money.

    You sit up with a soft groan of effort and discomfort, grinding the heel of your palm against your eyes as the lingering icky-feeling echoes of your hangover keep throbbing somewhere in your forebrain region. Then you just slowly slump over on all fours and begin to crawl around on the floor of your cave, plucking the fallen coins off the bare stone between your forefinger and thumb talons one by one by one. It's slow going, would be agonising to any dumb mortal, but you're a dragon and money makes the world go round for you. The repetition is just soothing, like stropping your claws or crunching down on an entire deer carcass, the gentle tink of metal on metal music to your ears as you drop each fresh coin into the protective cage of your other hand. Once it's so full it's dripping gold you rise, shuffle over to another spot in the cave where you'll build your next pile, and dump it all straight on the floor again. Then it's back across the cave to repeat the process. Tink, tink, tink, rattlerattlerattle. Tink, tink, tink, rattlerattlerattle.

    Stupid mother. Stupid ifrit. Stupid incubus. Jun-ho's okay, wasn't his choice to barge in on your life. Mother probably just Has Something on him. He's a bit weird and he's not from around here but he's still a dragon so that's close enough. But still, why's it got to be like this? Why everything, why now, why all at once and why happening to you? You're a good boy and you've done nothing wrong and now here you are with a blown-up hoard picking up loose change - though loose change is still gold and therefore still valid. You can't believe that in your younger days you dreamed up scenarios just like this, suddenly surrounded by flocks of hunky men of various stripes all clamouring for your time. But the reality is that they're mostly annoying and intrusive and really you'd just prefer some more lazy days of lying on a big pile of treasure watching the world go by. Is that such a crime? Nobody complaining at you or getting under your scales with snide comments then. Tink, tink, tink, rattlerattlerattle. Tink, tink, tink, rattlerattlerattle.

    Maybe you should wish for the ifrit to reverse all this. Just take you back to- no then Mother would show up and be herself and saddle you with Jun-ho anyway, time travel's always tricky like that in the stories. But then again you'd have your gold back. But no wine. And the incubus would still show up mrgh. Maybe wish for everyone to leave you alone? That's got some legs to it but then what happens to the ifrit? That leaves you with a third wish but him compelled by the wish you just made to leave you alone. That's probably a paradox or something, those are bad. You could wish for your hoard back? Or like... even more than you started with. More-more than you started with! Yeah, that's an idea. Just imagine, so much gold it could properly cover the floor of your cave rather than this scattered chaff business you've got going on right now. Just wall-to-wall gold pieces and jewels and magic items in these rolling semi-solid waves, so thick on the ground you could swim through it... you catch yourself salivating again and prod your tongue back into your mouth. You let yourself think like that when you first found the ifrit's lamp and look where that got you. Tink, tink, tink, rattlerattlerattle.

    "Can I help y-"

    "HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" You whip your head right around like a serpent poised to strike and hiss through your fangs so violently you startle the speaker almost clear off his feet. His hands pop straight up, shoulder-height, palms out. Your eyes rapidly dart up and down, scanning him for some sign of whatever ulterior motive it is he came here with while you have him at your mercy. He's human as far as you can tell, many shades darker than the ifrit with short, curly hair to match. His eyes -black but peppered with tiny flecks of gold- are wide and guileless. He wears no armour and you smell no hidden magic items on him. The only thing he has with him are his clothes, simple trousers and shoes with a dark tunic cut like a long-tailed jacket -or maybe the reverse- on top, trimmed and embroidered with simple yellow thread. Looks Tanin Sultanate adjacent maybe, you're not very good at fashion and it looks handmade, maybe even his own work.


    (( art by @Camellia ))

    "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," he says a little sheepishly.

    "You didn't frighten me," you grumble, letting your lips cover your fangs once more. "You startled me. Because people keep bothering me."

    "Then I'm sorry I startled you." He pauses, no doubt considering his next words carefully in fear and awe of your draconic majesty. "I-"

    "What're you doing here?" you snap, still annoyed he got the drop on you and irritable in general.

    "-came here to offer my help," he goes on, undeterred. "My name is Issachar. I run and live on one of the smaller independent lightning farms near here, so I've seen you come and go in your travels. I heard that you were having difficulties and I came to offer you whatever assistance I could."

    "... in exchange for?" you ask suspiciously, mind already racing with the various possibilities. After an incubus popped up out of the blue you're ready for anything.

    "Nothing. I just want to help you, one neighbour to another."

    Your eyes narrow to thin blue slits. Charity as a concept to a dragon is like helping someone who's been stabbed by stabbing yourself and trying to bleed into their wound, just complete madness. Either he's hiding something extra-double-deep down beneath the surface or this 'Issachar' fellow is a complete fool and you'll gain nothing by allowing him a moment more of your time.

    "How did you 'hear' that I was having difficulties?" you press him, jealously clutching your fistfuls of gold close to your chest. "Are you one of Mother's spies, is that it? An adventurer ahead of the pack? Do you work for one of the merchant houses? Are you a tax official!?"

    "N-no," he replies, having clearly underestimated how this conversation would go. "I'm- may I put my hands down?"

    "No."

    He doesn't. "I received a vision. I'm not... exactly some kind of full-time prophet but I know what I saw is real, and what I saw is that you have a very interesting destiny laid out before you. One with a great many possible futures, some separated by only a razor-thin margin of choices. I came to offer-"

    "Aha!" you exclaim, startling him as you thrust an accusing talon towards his chest. "So you're not here for charity! You're here to be nice to me and butter me up so I'll listen to you when you give me advice so I'll do things that get me going down the 'destiny path' you want me to!"

    He blinks. "I... I suppose that is more accurate, yes."

    "Good, at least I know you're not weird now," you say. "You can put your hands down."

    Issachar slowly, jerkily lowers his hands to his sides as you straighten up and ferry your current load of gold over to the slowly-growing pile. He watches you go to and fro, clearly trying to work out where to pick up the thread because you rather ruined his well-rehearsed spiel. You happily ignore him until he's good and ready. The money is much more important than some stupid destiny.

    "So... so, yes, the destiny," he says, stumbling over his words as he works up the momentum to keep going. "I came here to offer-"

    "Will you do anything I want?" you ask.

    "B-beg pardon?"

    "The 'charity' thing. If you're helping me does that mean you do whatever I ask whenever I ask it?"

    He takes a single half-second to imagine the vast breadth of things you could potentially ask him to do. "No," he replies firmly.

    "Okay." You let another two dripping fistfuls of gold fall on the slowly growing Pile 2 with a glorious metallic rattlerattlerattle. You think you've knocked him all off-balance again. Good. He deserves it for showing up out of the blue and also it's pretty fun to be on the other side of it, you're starting to understand why the ifrit does it all the time. You turn around to look at him, hands on your scaly hips, and glance at the vast swathes of cave floor still covered in coins and other bits. "... hrm. Swear to me on your life that you won't steal so much as a tin penny of my treasure," you say.

    "I swear on my life never to steal or so much as covet your gold," he repeats solemnly. He probably doesn't feel it but you do, a little tingle runs through your horns and the back of your skull as the contract is sealed. The magic can't stop him from going back on his word if he decides to be a dick about it but it'll curse him with a cruel and ignoble end as well as cursing whatever he steals itself so it keeps on causing misery for however long it takes to make its way back to your hoard. Pretty simple magic but it's good for a cathartic giggle to oneself in the night.

    "Okay, then help me get all these coins and smaller jewels over here in the pile," you order him, indicating all the parts where the treasure scattered furthest. "Not the bigger pieces, only I get to touch those. Everything gets put right on the apex of the pile so it trickles down naturally, no landscaping it because only dragons know the right way to do that, only carry them in cupped hands and slowly sprinkle them down so they don't bounce away and you're not moving why aren't you doing what I tell you yet?"

    Issachar remains right where you left him, arms loosely folded, and just looks at you. "I'll do it on one condition."

    "Uuuuuuugh." You lean back, letting your shoulders go slack, arch your neck and groan straight up at the ceiling. You swing forward into an upright posture again. "What?"

    "Say 'please'," he says.

    "... I don't follow."

    "Say 'please'."

    "I think I must be mishearing you."

    "Say 'please' and I'll help you for as long as you want."

    "Is this 'puh-leese' a foreign word?"

    "Oh come off it you have the gift of tongues you understand every language spoken by any group in any part of the world like a native!" he snaps.

    "Wow there's no need to get hostile, you come into my cave uninvited to help me because of 'destiny' then start trying to lay down rules before you'll help me?" you retort. Wow this really is fun. You can't help but grin as Issachar's lips twist into an S-shaped grimace of annoyance. You can practically hear all the things he actually wants to say bouncing against the inside of that tight seal.

    "It's such a small thing, it costs you nothing, and it means a lot to other people," he eventually manages to explain, as patiently as he can. "I don't know if you've noticed this yet on your own, but oftentimes the difference between someone giving you what you want just comes down to whether you ask rudely or politely. See?"

    "Hmmm..." you scritch at the scales under your chin thoughtfully. "So it makes people do what I want more often... and it's free..."

    "Theeeeennn..." he delicately urges you on.

    "Theeeeeen..." you slowly pull your hand away and gesture towards him. "Pppplllllleeeeeeeeeease help me pick up all my gold and put it in a pile."

    "Yes, Eldingar, I would love to!" Issachar replies. "See, was that so hard?"

    "Don't push it. I said the thing, now we pile."

    Thankfully Issachar really does leave it at that, helping you gather and pile up the gold in silence. He's pretty good at it for an amateur, working just as fast as you if not faster, and all the needless hullabaloo about this 'please' nonsense aside you really are quite pleased to see your cave slowly grow more and more presentable. The hours just seem to fly by, until at last you carry the last handful of gold to the pile and pour it down with a grin. The damage wasn't quite so bad as you feared at first - it's noticeably smaller, true, but there are plenty of coins that just got a bit singed, once you shuffle them around to the lower layers and core of the pile it looks quite presentable. It's the bigger items you'll have to work out a replacement for, or just get shitloads more coins and jewels to balance it out, but hey that's for Future Eldingar. Present Eldingar is happy, relatively speaking. The hangover's even gone!

    "There," you say, hands on your hips again. "Much better."

    "Indeed it is!" Issachar agrees. And then just kind of hovers beside you, his silence very much pointed, like he's waiting for you to say something else.

    "... what?" you ask, arching a brow-ridge at him. He just sighs, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

    "Nevermind, it's nothing. Thank you for letting me help you, Eldingar." He pats you on the shoulder. "I think that in time-"

    "I will bite that arm off."

    "-okay enough of that for one day then." He retrieves his hand before you make good on your promise and clasps it with the other behind his back. He's silent for a time, perhaps basking in the glow of a job well done too. "If you fly southwest from here and aim for the highest mountain, my farm should be directly below your flight path. If you ever have questions, or need help, or just want you to talk, I'd like you to know that my door is always open to you."

    "Yeah yeah," you say disinterestedly, waving a claw in his general direction. Entertaining company is exhausting, you don't know how mortals find the time or energy. "See you around if I need a gold-mover again I guess."

    He makes no more comments, leaving you to your satisfaction as you crouch by your gold and carefully arrange it just so. Run a talon down here, shore it up a bit there, shape a nice little sleeping divot at the top theeeere. It'll take many nights before it's proper again but you've made a start at least. And once you get going into treasure-hunting properly maybe it'll be even better than-

    "Wait how'd you get in here?" you realise all at once. "There's no-"

    You turn. Issachar is gone. You didn't even hear him leave. And the only way out is the natural opening about sixty feet up you've been too lazy to widen, let alone make accessible for adventurers.

    "-door."

    The final word seems to echo and echo and echo again in the vast, empty cavern.

    "(myeah, well, fuck you, be all mysterious and elusive and shit)," you grumble to yourself, "(see if i care. in fact i won't even ask you about it next time i see you. just gonna pretend nothing happened and let you sweat on it. 'maybe he knows!' 'maybe he's just guessing!' 'i should admit everything before eldingar eats me for being a lying liar who lies!')"

    Silence descends once more.

    "... and I never told him my name either fffffuck everything," you add, petulantly slapping the gold for lack of any better vent for your frustrations. You immediately regret it and snatch up every single glittering coin that jingles to the floor, pressing them back into their proper places like a tailor sewing sequins to a rich lady's dress. Once it's all done you give a sigh of relief, carefully stepping away with your palms up as if to soothe the pile not to destroy itself.

    You glance up at the cave mouth high above again. By the look of the light you used up half the day cleaning up the cave. Probably would've been all of it if Issachar hadn't (begrudgingly) helped out. You've still got a little time.

    [ ] Go find Jun-ho.
    [ ] Go find the ifrit.
    [ ] Go find the incubus.
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    • Chapter Eleven - So How Crazy Was Yesterday, Right?
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    • You should probably check on Jun-ho. You guess. You're kind of stuck with him thanks to Mother and he's not actively irritating so it's not too bad you guess. Leaving your new pile of gold just so you take flight, shifting up as you go (but only reaching full size once you're through the hole you keep meaning to widen) and glide outside into the grey midday light in search of him.

    He's not very hard to find. You do a circuit of your spire and spy him at the cliffside, all coiled along the edge like the weird scaly noodle with hair that he is. Specifically soggy hair because it looks like he's still dripping wet. Freak rainstorm? No no, you would've heard it inside. You swoop down and alight on the grassy ground, folding up your wings and trotting to the cliff's edge beside him.

    "Trying to sober up?" you ask, indicating his sogginess with a flick of your head.

    "Hm? Oh." He glances at you. "No I-"

    "Went for a fish and slipped in?" you suggest.

    "No I just tried going for a swim but that... did not pan out," he explains with a sheepish look. "Water was a lot colder than it looked."

    "... what, like. For fun?" you ask.

    "Mhm?"

    You shoot him a look as you try to work out if he's making a joke or just being weird again. It must be the latter because he looks away again and the conversation chills about as much as Jun-ho must've when he hit the water. The wind whistles across the surface of your little lofty island, perhaps moaning something unkind about your ability to talk to people under its breath. You really should've asked the incubus guy about those 'talking to guys' lessons huh?

    "I enjoyed yesterday," you say out of the blue. It sounds like the sort of thing he'd appreciate and it's not like you have shit-else to talk about. "Even if it involved hangover headaches and the like. It was interesting to learn more about your homeland and... in all honesty I don't remember the last time I spoke to another dragon like that."

    "Heh, thanks." Jun-ho smiles slightly, the wind ruffling his spun-gold locks something close to dry again as he turns to look at you. "The same to you. I don't know about the uh, the drinking part so much -or at least not as much- but I'd like to do something like that again sometime. If you are, I mean."

    "Mm. And hopefully the next time won't have more strange men barging into my home to interrupt," you add. "It doesn't trouble you that they've decided to hang around like bad smells too, does it?"

    "Oh no, not at all. They've been extra company!" Jun-ho looks out across the roiling grey-white sea at the featureless horizon far beyond. "I mean, Makram's kind of snooty and unpleasant but Belial's easy to talk to, very laid-back."

    "Wh- oh. Yes. Of course," you recover quickly.

    Jun-ho side-eyes you with one half-lidded emerald eye. "... did you not know their names?"

    "I was going to get around to it I've been very busy!" you protest rapidly. "And- and anyway at least now you know I was telling the truth about having to fight an ifrit!"

    "I always believed you!" Jun-ho replies, equally as convincingly. "I've just... never seen an ifrit up close, is all! So I went to talk to him and Makram was mostly just- well you met him first you'd know."

    "mmmmyeahido"

    A brief silence falls. Lightning flashes far off in the distance, a brilliant white bolt striking the sea far below in a flash of burnt water and smoke. You're craving a recharge but the storm's too far out for now. You can wait.

    "You know there was another one just now?" you mention.

    "Mm?"

    "Another strange man breaking into my home! 'Issachar' he said his name was, tried to feed me some yarn about being a friendly lightning farm neighbour of no consequence but he'd have had to fly or teleport in to get the drop on me so..." You shrug. It doesn't really work as well in quadrupedal form. "And he wasn't even looking for anything logical like how whatsisname the incubus wants sex or Makram wants... I don't know probably just to see me break down and cry. He was trying to teach me manners."

    "That must have been quite a shock to you," Jun-ho says.

    "I know right? He told me where to find him and said his door was always open if I wanted help and he said it'd always be free how weird is that?"

    "Think you will?" he asks. "Fly over to his place and ask for anything, I mean."

    "I suppose I might as well at some point," you say. "He said some lah-de-dah about my having an important destiny too so I presume he'll be dropping in seemingly at random to offer advice no matter what I do, might as well get out in front of it if it means free stuff." You pause. "So what I mean is, if you see a human just sort of wandering around the place, it's probably Issachar so don't worry about it."

    "Right, right." He lets out a gentle snort. "Did you start wearing magic cologne or something? It's like you're a magnet for guys all of a sudden."

    "Mm. What I wouldn't have given for that four or five decades ago," you say with a grimace. You open your mouth to say something else, something along the lines of 'you don't mind all these strange attractive men hanging around because this is just arranged, right?' but even you can tell that'd be monumentally stupid to say out loud. Instead you ask "Are you hungry?"

    "A bit. Why?"

    "Because if you are I can arrange some food for you, this isn't brain surgery," you grumble.

    "Oh, sorry." Jun-ho rapidly drums his claws on the edge of the cliff, glancing to the side for a moment as if to take a break from eye contact. His gaze returns to yours. "Whaaaat did you have in mind? I don't know what the options are around here so, whatever you think works."

    Hm. Well you have no idea what Jun-ho might like, given for all you know dragons lick the moss from the undersides of boulders where he's from, so you might as well just pick something you want and hope for the best.

    [ ] Hunt the land for something, like cattle or game. That's a pretty safe bet, right? Can never go wrong with a good old side of beef or venison. You know all the best spots by now.
    [ ] Fly out across the ocean and go looking for some seafood. You and Jun-ho working together you could probably get something nice and big to share or something. And hey, he apparently likes the water anyway.
    [ ] Go into Söfnun as mortals and have dinner together. There's a much wider variety of cuisine on display and thus a much greater chance of Jun-ho liking whatever it is you settle on - but it might come off more romantic and you don't know how you'll handle that. Probably badly.
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    • Chapter Twelve - You're Pretty Sure This Is What Mortals Call 'Fly-Fishing' Right?
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    • "Let's go catch some seafood!" you suggest, flicking your head out across the ocean and wiggling your wings to warm them up. "I don't do it that often but I still know plenty of good spots."

    "What, you mean like... fish?" Jun-ho asks with a look of distaste.

    "What? No we'd be there all day trying to grab enough fish to make it worthwhile. Pain in the ass is what that sounds like. Nah I was thinking with grab an orca or two apiece."

    "Oh!" He looks out at the sea. "Yeah I could try an orca!"

    "That's the spirit!" You ready yourself for a proper takeoff, wings flapping faster and faster. "Just try and fly straight with me, if I veer off out of nowhere don't worry, I'm just taking a detour and I'll be back. Got it?"

    Jun-ho nods with a preparatory pre-flight wiggle. You coil up all four limbs and spring off the side of the cliff, wings spread wide like vast leathery sails as you rise higher and higher into the stormy air. You head almost straight east, glancing back every now and then to check if Jun-ho's still following - if there's one thing he's good for, it's high visibility. You carefully scan the waters below for some sign of your quarry, all the while tasting the air for a hint at the other snack you're so desperately craving.

    You catch the scent and off you go without a word of warning or explanation. Time is at a premium when you have to be in just the right spot when-

    KRA-KOOOOOMMMM

    -good gods you forgot how much more intense it is when you aren't properly grounded. Sure you naturally absorb most of it as it passes through you when you're just standing around to get struck but when you're in mid-air like this the bolt gets trapped, practically doubles back around to hit you again. You buzz like the lightning's coursing through your very veins, jolting your heart to make it beat faster. Your markings shine with teal light, horns orange with heat, and you somewhat-drunkenly veer back on course.

    "Wow!" Jun-ho calls up to you.

    "I know right?" you shout back over your shoulder. "Why do you think I live here? Storms all the damn day!"

    "Are we getting close?"

    "Yep! Just give me a second!"

    You slow to a lazy glide, letting your momentum and the air currents carry you onward as you devote your attention to scanning the stormy seas below. It's nothing serious really, just enough to form harsher peaks and valleys in the steel-grey water, obscuring the telltale fins from the gaze of anything less than a majestic apex predator such as yourself. You flash a triumphant grin as you spy a pod breaching, checking their surroundings. You're high up but there's still a chance they'll spot you and dive as deep as they can in search of safety. Best act quickly.

    "So how do we-" Jun-ho starts.

    You flare out your shining wings wide, stopping dead in the air as you drop your jaw open as far as it'll go. Sparks pop from your horns, arcs of power leaping between the points, leashed lightning crawling across your scales as you breathe a storm's fury down at the water below. Your roar is a thunderclap, the seas turn pure white with the reflected light of your breath, if only for a moment. The sea boils and steams from the heat of the strike, a myriad branching and forking tendrils visible for a second or two more at most before it's all over. And then a few moments more sees the pod of orcas quietly bob to the surface, stone dead.

    "-oh." Jun-ho comes to a stop beside you, a scaly coil hovering impossibly in mid-air. "I suppose I should've expected that."

    "(Please, please, no need to sound too impressed,)" you mumble-grumble. Raising your voice to actually be audible a moment later. "Well, pick a couple and dive!"

    You trim your wings and swoop down, the wind rushing past in a dull roar as the sea looms up before you at almost terrifying speed. You level off as best you can, intending to neatly skim the surface and rise up again once you've snatched up an orca apiece in your foreclaws. Instead you misjudge the distance and skim the surface more like a rock somebody threw, flailing and flapping until you manage to free yourself from the icy waters. You rise with an intense grimace, hoping Jun-ho was too preoccupied to see that, clutching a pair of orcas tight. To your relief you realise he outright dove underwater, as he surfaces in a fountain of foaming white water, streaming and steaming from every scale and coil as he wiggles his way back skywards with his own prey in hand. You wheel around and set a course back to your spire, the wingless dragon following close behind.

    "I thought the water was too cold for you!" you call back, contemplating each killer whale as you try to figure out which one looks tastier to eat first.

    "For a longer swim!" he replies from somewhere behind and to the left of you. "It's fine just to dive! Kind of bracing actually!"

    "So you're a fire-dragon that likes swimming?" you say as you bite the head off the orca in your right claw. "(s'weird)" you mumble around a full mouth, crunching and chewing and swallowing, bones and all. You hear another splintering crunch in kind as Jun-ho follows suit a moment later.

    It's getting properly dark by the time you make it back to the spire, setting down on the grass outside to finish off the rest of your orca. It's not exactly got finely-crafted flavours and textures like the food you get at Söfnun, and the presentation leaves something to be desired, but by the same token sometimes you do miss the simplicity of killing something big and crunching down until there's nothing left. It's all good for you, waste not want not! Jun-ho's a bit picky by comparison, but you happily take all the bony bits he can't force down his neck so it all works out in the end. By the time the two of you are done the only proof an entire pod of four orcas ever even existed is a few bloodstains in the grass. Jun-ho worries at the spaces between his fangs with a talontip, you just roll over flat on your back and rest your claws on your satisfyingly full stomach. You'd be very much tempted to nap the night away right here were it not for a recently-diminished hoard in need of guarding.

    "So uh... where do I sleep tonight?" Jun-ho asks from your right.

    "Mm?" you crack open your eyes, cock your head slightly to meet his gaze. "Oh. Right. You can use my cave I suppose? I'm using all the gold though so you'll have to sleep on rocks. Are rocks okay?"

    "Rocks are fine yeah."

    "Good, good. 'cause tomorrow -(ack)-" you grunt and groan as you force yourself to roll over right-side-up again, "I'm gonna get into this map thing right and proper. Treasure to find, treasure to spend, treasure to hoard. And maybe make the spire look nicer if there's enough to go around, I dunno."

    You pause, then glance suspiciously at Jun-ho. "Because I want to," you clarify quickly. "Not because Mother said I had to."

    "I didn't say anything!" he protests.

    "Yeah but you were thinking it."

    Jun-ho doesn't really have anything to say to that, and so the two of you decide to turn in. He follows you through the cave mouth and veers off to the other side, coiling up his long snake-with-legs-like body into a pile against the cave wall as you settle down on your brand new gold-pile. You let out a soft groan of relief to feel the coins settle beneath your armoured belly once more, splaying out all four limbs and relaxing down into the slightly-yielding treasure-mound. Coins jingle softly as your swishing tail bats them back and forth, flowing down beneath your angular jaw as you settle.

    "mmm. g'night" you murmur.

    "Goodnight," Jun-ho replies.

    "was talking t'the gold"

    "Oh. Uh. Goodnight anyway?"

    "g'night"

    You've forgotten the exchange before you're even asleep.

    You awaken atop a pile of treasure to tall and so vast that you can't actually see where it stops, which is definitely an improvement over last night's debacle. So many shining gold coins, thick and fat as human thumbs, so many cut diamonds and rubies and emeralds and sapphires and topazes and tourmalines and amethysts and lapis-lazulis, so many crowns, so much magic shit, so much wealth everywhere you look! You roll back and forth on top of the pile like a giant ecstatic cat, gathering up great clawfuls of the pile and tossing them into the air, letting them rain back down on you like hail. Shimmy-shimmy-shimmy you go as you squirm your way into a nice you-shaped divot in the pile, perfectly comfortable and happy as anything.

    You glance to your left and find a telltale splash of scarlet and black.

    "Oi!" you shout. "You said you wouldn't try anything again!"

    "mm?" Belial's lying flat on his back down the slope of your pile, talons laced behind his horned head. He cranes his neck to look up at you, blinking sleepily. "Oh. No, this is your dream. I'm just in it."

    "If it's my dream then how are you in it!?" The incubus just looks at you. You don't want to admit that was a dumb question so you ask another one. "Why are you in it then?"

    "Because I need a place to sleep," he says with a shrug. "Incubi can physically enter the sleep of dreamers and travel between them, s'how I got here in the first place. And you'd be surprised how restful it is to go to bed in a dream."

    "I'll... take your word for it," you say haltingly.

    "Alright. Be here if you need me. Otherwise, pretend I'm not here."

    Well that rather spoiled it for you. You scowl intensely at the crown of his head and settle down within your pile of dream-gold to get comfy, and fall back asleep.

    You awaken in the real world, and immediately cast a suspicious eye around for a sign of any wandering unwanted incubi. You do a few passes of the cave and the coast seems to be clear, for now at least. Jun-ho's still all coiled up on the other side of the cavern, rising and falling with the telltale deep breaths of a sleeper. You lift all five limbs off the pile and stretch out with a soft groan, joints clicking dully to your ear, and slowly roll onto the cold stone floor. A small cascade of coins follows you with an audible jingle but you pay it no mind - if that were enough to wake Jun-ho he wouldn't have slept at all. You just shift down to bipedal form and retrieve the map-case from where you shoved it into the pile yesterday morning like a sword in a stone, popping the cap and unfurling it to check the locations.

    Hm. It's changed a bit. Not dramatically, but enough to take notice and feed a few implications. Your spire is still lit up, even more brightly if anything - must be because you actually let Makram out of his lamp and now he's ready to grant some wishes. The marker that used to be at the heart of the Plutocracy capital has migrated east a couple miles, into one of the suburbs, and the marker that used to be at the crossroads has turned coastward and deeper into Arosan territory. Treasures being transported? They must be very slow, it's been two days since you checked. Perhaps they can only be moved in secret, such is their worth.

    Hmmm... which entices more? Which location promises the most riches?

    [ ] Söfnun. It was there when you last checked too so it's probably not just some seasonal trinket at the market, nor is it something you'll have to steal from Mother. Of course if it's in a merchant prince's vault, stealing may still be involved. You'll have to use a mortal guise too. This one may call for a little more finesse.
    [ ] The forest estate. Buried deep within the ancient boughs, forgotten by some, feared as haunted by others. You're not afraid of eating some skeletons if it means getting ancient aristocracy treasure.
    [ ] The wizard's tower. Accessible by obscure trails or perhaps not at all without teleportation or flight, warded against intrusion and perhaps even teeming with magebred guardbeasts. Definitely packed to the brim with magic baubles and curios.
    [ ] The island. A bit of a flight and a bit of a damp outing, but you can't go wrong with ancient ruins raised up from the depths of the sea just waiting to be plundered.
    [ ] The travelling treasure. You haven't been watching long enough to tell if it's actually following the road or randomly through the wilderness, but it doesn't much matter with this magic map and compass. Plenty of open space means you get to use your true form, too!

    But then... hrm. Mrgh. You've got all these people hanging around your spire now, and courtesy of Issachar's arrival for even the briefest moment you consider whether up and leaving to chase treasure alone would be... rooeeed. And you suppose you did kind-of-sort-of already make an offer to Jun-ho to treasure-hunt with you. If he wanted. Which he might not. Because he doesn't like gold. The weirdo. And depending who you pick the others might get all jealous over nothing or something. Living alone is so much easier.

    [ ] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
    [ ] Take Jun-ho. He's another dragon so you have a much better grasp on what he can do, and you've kind of got the measure of his priorities by now.
    [ ] Take Belial. You've got a wonkier grasp on what incubi are capable of, but a demon with that sort of brawn is hardly going to be helpless. Charm abilities, sleep-inducement, whatever regular infernal magic he's got, etc etc...
    [ ] Take Issachar. He did offer to help you do basically whatever, and he's got his own ambiguously magical abilities you're still resolved to studiously ignore until he cracks and spills the beans on his own. He may try to make you learn things again, but that's just a risk you'll have to take.
    [ ] Go alone. You want treasure dammit and you don't want to share or put up with any potential whining. Besides, at least this way nobody's getting favourable treatment. When you think about it really this is the fairest option for everybody.
    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 9, 2018 at 4:25 PM, finished with 36 posts and 22 votes.
    • [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
      [X] The wizard's tower. Accessible by obscure trails or perhaps not at all without teleportation or flight, warded against intrusion and perhaps even teeming with magebred guardbeasts. Definitely packed to the brim with magic baubles and curios.
      [X] The island. A bit of a flight and a bit of a damp outing, but you can't go wrong with ancient ruins raised up from the depths of the sea just waiting to be plundered.
      [X] Take Belial. You've got a wonkier grasp on what incubi are capable of, but a demon with that sort of brawn is hardly going to be helpless. Charm abilities, sleep-inducement, whatever regular infernal magic he's got, etc etc...
      [X] Söfnun. It was there when you last checked too so it's probably not just some seasonal trinket at the market, nor is it something you'll have to steal from Mother. Of course if it's in a merchant prince's vault, stealing may still be involved. You'll have to use a mortal guise too. This one may call for a little more finesse.
      [x]The island
      [X] The travelling treasure. You haven't been watching long enough to tell if it's actually following the road or randomly through the wilderness, but it doesn't much matter with this magic map and compass. Plenty of open space means you get to use your true form, too!
      [X] Take Jun-ho. He's another dragon so you have a much better grasp on what he can do, and you've kind of got the measure of his priorities by now.
    Click to expand...

    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 9, 2018 at 4:28 PM, finished with 36 posts and 22 votes.
    • [X] The wizard's tower. Accessible by obscure trails or perhaps not at all without teleportation or flight, warded against intrusion and perhaps even teeming with magebred guardbeasts. Definitely packed to the brim with magic baubles and curios.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
      [X] The island. A bit of a flight and a bit of a damp outing, but you can't go wrong with ancient ruins raised up from the depths of the sea just waiting to be plundered.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
      [X] Söfnun. It was there when you last checked too so it's probably not just some seasonal trinket at the market, nor is it something you'll have to steal from Mother. Of course if it's in a merchant prince's vault, stealing may still be involved. You'll have to use a mortal guise too. This one may call for a little more finesse.
      [X] Take Belial. You've got a wonkier grasp on what incubi are capable of, but a demon with that sort of brawn is hardly going to be helpless. Charm abilities, sleep-inducement, whatever regular infernal magic he's got, etc etc...
      [x]The island
      [X] Take Belial. You've got a wonkier grasp on what incubi are capable of, but a demon with that sort of brawn is hardly going to be helpless. Charm abilities, sleep-inducement, whatever regular infernal magic he's got, etc etc...
      [X] The travelling treasure. You haven't been watching long enough to tell if it's actually following the road or randomly through the wilderness, but it doesn't much matter with this magic map and compass. Plenty of open space means you get to use your true form, too!
      [X] Take Jun-ho. He's another dragon so you have a much better grasp on what he can do, and you've kind of got the measure of his priorities by now.
    Click to expand...

    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 9, 2018 at 10:02 PM, finished with 49 posts and 31 votes.
    • [X] The wizard's tower. Accessible by obscure trails or perhaps not at all without teleportation or flight, warded against intrusion and perhaps even teeming with magebred guardbeasts. Definitely packed to the brim with magic baubles and curios.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
      [X] The island. A bit of a flight and a bit of a damp outing, but you can't go wrong with ancient ruins raised up from the depths of the sea just waiting to be plundered.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
      [X] Söfnun. It was there when you last checked too so it's probably not just some seasonal trinket at the market, nor is it something you'll have to steal from Mother. Of course if it's in a merchant prince's vault, stealing may still be involved. You'll have to use a mortal guise too. This one may call for a little more finesse.
      [X] Take Belial. You've got a wonkier grasp on what incubi are capable of, but a demon with that sort of brawn is hardly going to be helpless. Charm abilities, sleep-inducement, whatever regular infernal magic he's got, etc etc...
      [X] The travelling treasure. You haven't been watching long enough to tell if it's actually following the road or randomly through the wilderness, but it doesn't much matter with this magic map and compass. Plenty of open space means you get to use your true form, too!
      [X] Take Jun-ho. He's another dragon so you have a much better grasp on what he can do, and you've kind of got the measure of his priorities by now.
      [x]The island
      [X] Take Belial. You've got a wonkier grasp on what incubi are capable of, but a demon with that sort of brawn is hardly going to be helpless. Charm abilities, sleep-inducement, whatever regular infernal magic he's got, etc etc...
      [X] The wizard's tower. Accessible by obscure trails or perhaps not at all without teleportation or flight, warded against intrusion and perhaps even teeming with magebred guardbeasts. Definitely packed to the brim with magic baubles and curios.
      [x] Take Issachar. He did offer to help you do basically whatever, and he's got his own ambiguously magical abilities you're still resolved to studiously ignore until he cracks and spills the beans on his own. He may try to make you learn things again, but that's just a risk you'll have to take.
      [X] The forest estate. Buried deep within the ancient boughs, forgotten by some, feared as haunted by others. You're not afraid of eating some skeletons if it means getting ancient aristocracy treasure.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
    Click to expand...

    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 9, 2018 at 10:37 PM, finished with 49 posts and 31 votes.
    • [X] The wizard's tower. Accessible by obscure trails or perhaps not at all without teleportation or flight, warded against intrusion and perhaps even teeming with magebred guardbeasts. Definitely packed to the brim with magic baubles and curios.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
      [X] The island. A bit of a flight and a bit of a damp outing, but you can't go wrong with ancient ruins raised up from the depths of the sea just waiting to be plundered.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
      [X] Söfnun. It was there when you last checked too so it's probably not just some seasonal trinket at the market, nor is it something you'll have to steal from Mother. Of course if it's in a merchant prince's vault, stealing may still be involved. You'll have to use a mortal guise too. This one may call for a little more finesse.
      [X] Take Belial. You've got a wonkier grasp on what incubi are capable of, but a demon with that sort of brawn is hardly going to be helpless. Charm abilities, sleep-inducement, whatever regular infernal magic he's got, etc etc...
      [X] The travelling treasure. You haven't been watching long enough to tell if it's actually following the road or randomly through the wilderness, but it doesn't much matter with this magic map and compass. Plenty of open space means you get to use your true form, too!
      [X] Take Jun-ho. He's another dragon so you have a much better grasp on what he can do, and you've kind of got the measure of his priorities by now.
      [x]The island
      [X] Take Belial. You've got a wonkier grasp on what incubi are capable of, but a demon with that sort of brawn is hardly going to be helpless. Charm abilities, sleep-inducement, whatever regular infernal magic he's got, etc etc...
      [X] The wizard's tower. Accessible by obscure trails or perhaps not at all without teleportation or flight, warded against intrusion and perhaps even teeming with magebred guardbeasts. Definitely packed to the brim with magic baubles and curios.
      [x] Take Issachar. He did offer to help you do basically whatever, and he's got his own ambiguously magical abilities you're still resolved to studiously ignore until he cracks and spills the beans on his own. He may try to make you learn things again, but that's just a risk you'll have to take.
      [X] The forest estate. Buried deep within the ancient boughs, forgotten by some, feared as haunted by others. You're not afraid of eating some skeletons if it means getting ancient aristocracy treasure.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
    Click to expand...

    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 10, 2018 at 2:20 AM, finished with 54 posts and 34 votes.
    • [X] The wizard's tower. Accessible by obscure trails or perhaps not at all without teleportation or flight, warded against intrusion and perhaps even teeming with magebred guardbeasts. Definitely packed to the brim with magic baubles and curios.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
      [X] The island. A bit of a flight and a bit of a damp outing, but you can't go wrong with ancient ruins raised up from the depths of the sea just waiting to be plundered.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
      [X] Söfnun. It was there when you last checked too so it's probably not just some seasonal trinket at the market, nor is it something you'll have to steal from Mother. Of course if it's in a merchant prince's vault, stealing may still be involved. You'll have to use a mortal guise too. This one may call for a little more finesse.
      [X] Take Belial. You've got a wonkier grasp on what incubi are capable of, but a demon with that sort of brawn is hardly going to be helpless. Charm abilities, sleep-inducement, whatever regular infernal magic he's got, etc etc...
      [X] The travelling treasure. You haven't been watching long enough to tell if it's actually following the road or randomly through the wilderness, but it doesn't much matter with this magic map and compass. Plenty of open space means you get to use your true form, too!
      [X] Take Jun-ho. He's another dragon so you have a much better grasp on what he can do, and you've kind of got the measure of his priorities by now.
      [X] The forest estate. Buried deep within the ancient boughs, forgotten by some, feared as haunted by others. You're not afraid of eating some skeletons if it means getting ancient aristocracy treasure.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
      [x]The island
      [X] Take Belial. You've got a wonkier grasp on what incubi are capable of, but a demon with that sort of brawn is hardly going to be helpless. Charm abilities, sleep-inducement, whatever regular infernal magic he's got, etc etc...
      [X] The wizard's tower. Accessible by obscure trails or perhaps not at all without teleportation or flight, warded against intrusion and perhaps even teeming with magebred guardbeasts. Definitely packed to the brim with magic baubles and curios.
      [x] Take Issachar. He did offer to help you do basically whatever, and he's got his own ambiguously magical abilities you're still resolved to studiously ignore until he cracks and spills the beans on his own. He may try to make you learn things again, but that's just a risk you'll have to take.
      [X] The wizard's tower. Accessible by obscure trails or perhaps not at all without teleportation or flight, warded against intrusion and perhaps even teeming with magebred guardbeasts. Definitely packed to the brim with magic baubles and curios.
      [X] Take Jun-ho. He's another dragon so you have a much better grasp on what he can do, and you've kind of got the measure of his priorities by now.
    Click to expand...

    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 10, 2018 at 3:07 AM, finished with 55 posts and 35 votes.
    • [X] The wizard's tower. Accessible by obscure trails or perhaps not at all without teleportation or flight, warded against intrusion and perhaps even teeming with magebred guardbeasts. Definitely packed to the brim with magic baubles and curios.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
      [X] The island. A bit of a flight and a bit of a damp outing, but you can't go wrong with ancient ruins raised up from the depths of the sea just waiting to be plundered.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
      [X] Söfnun. It was there when you last checked too so it's probably not just some seasonal trinket at the market, nor is it something you'll have to steal from Mother. Of course if it's in a merchant prince's vault, stealing may still be involved. You'll have to use a mortal guise too. This one may call for a little more finesse.
      [X] Take Belial. You've got a wonkier grasp on what incubi are capable of, but a demon with that sort of brawn is hardly going to be helpless. Charm abilities, sleep-inducement, whatever regular infernal magic he's got, etc etc...
      [X] The travelling treasure. You haven't been watching long enough to tell if it's actually following the road or randomly through the wilderness, but it doesn't much matter with this magic map and compass. Plenty of open space means you get to use your true form, too!
      [X] Take Jun-ho. He's another dragon so you have a much better grasp on what he can do, and you've kind of got the measure of his priorities by now.
      [X] The forest estate. Buried deep within the ancient boughs, forgotten by some, feared as haunted by others. You're not afraid of eating some skeletons if it means getting ancient aristocracy treasure.
      [X] Take Makram. He's annoying and smarmy and too powerful for his own good, but he's your djinn and you still have two more wishes dammit, that could come in handy.
      [X] The wizard's tower. Accessible by obscure trails or perhaps not at all without teleportation or flight, warded against intrusion and perhaps even teeming with magebred guardbeasts. Definitely packed to the brim with magic baubles and curios.
      [X] Take Jun-ho. He's another dragon so you have a much better grasp on what he can do, and you've kind of got the measure of his priorities by now.
      [x]The island
      [X] Take Belial. You've got a wonkier grasp on what incubi are capable of, but a demon with that sort of brawn is hardly going to be helpless. Charm abilities, sleep-inducement, whatever regular infernal magic he's got, etc etc...
      [X] The wizard's tower. Accessible by obscure trails or perhaps not at all without teleportation or flight, warded against intrusion and perhaps even teeming with magebred guardbeasts. Definitely packed to the brim with magic baubles and curios.
      [x] Take Issachar. He did offer to help you do basically whatever, and he's got his own ambiguously magical abilities you're still resolved to studiously ignore until he cracks and spills the beans on his own. He may try to make you learn things again, but that's just a risk you'll have to take.
    Click to expand...
     
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    • Chapter Thirteen - Riddles Are Based On Intentionally Communicating Poorly So That You Can Feel Smug And Superior When Misunderstood And Are Therefore Bullshit
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    • Hmmmm... not Jun-ho. You don't really want to wake him up on the off-chance he actually cares about this treasure-hunting business - you've mentioned it multiple times before and he hardly leapt on it. Belial seems like he'd be more interested in having a nap and talking about how things were back in his day (must be damn old to be an incubus that doesn't look like a stunningly beautiful twentysomething) and Issachar might waste your time whining about how whatever's in the tower 'belongs to someone' and that would be 'stealing' which is 'wrong'. Which, of course, leaves only one option - your trusty djinn.

    Who is not trusty at all but you feel like you should be bringing someone.

    You stuff the map back into its protective tube, stuff it and Makram's lamp into the leather bag that once held every magical doodad you brought from Söfnun then wing your way out the cavern mouth high on the south wall. You circle around and land again in the grass just north of it, retrieving the lamp and eyeing it speculatively. Do you just open it again? Is holding it enough? Can he hear you?

    You settle on giving it an insistent jiggle and saying "Wakey-wakey Makram."

    The door pops open and a swirling tongue of golden flame snakes forth, thankfully less explosively than the first time. It grows as it twists, as it snips itself off at the root with the closing door, man-sized and man-shaped until with a flash of heat and rush of air Makram stands beside you. Well, 'stands'. He seems allergic to touching the same ground your claws have sullied unless absolutely necessary. He takes a languid look around, eyes lingering only briefly on the bag with the map in it before alighting on you.

    "Well now," he says. "A master that deigns to use my name? You had to learn it second-hand but progress is progress I suppose~"

    "Oh shush you, m'still angry about my gold," you scowl.

    "Then why, dear master, would you summon a wretch like me? For another wish perhaps?" He adjusts his pose. You grimace.

    "Stop that. It's discomforting."

    "What is, master~?"

    "You know damn well 'what' you golden asshole," you grumble. "Just call me 'Eldingar', everyone else clamouring to squat in my home seems to so we might as well be consistent about this."

    "That sounds awfully informal. Rude, almost." Makram's lying centrefold again, cheek on a half-curled fist. "Your dear mother had a much more grandiose and fitting title for you when she introduced you and the long one to each other, why not mandate the use of that?"

    "You were lis-? Of course you were don't even answer that," you grumble, again. "Those were our style names. You pick one when you leave home and make it longer and longer as you get older and do more shit. Mother's is a couple sentences and Nana Illvithri's is more or less a novel by this point. S'been so long since I've needed to use it it just felt weird to hear it out loud." You pause awkwardly. "So what I'm saying is just 'Eldingar' is fine, no need to be a shit about it."

    "Very well, Master Eldingar."

    "Mmmmhmmmmmovingon." You stuff the lamp back in the bag and withdraw the map instead, popping the cap with a thumb-talon and unfurling it for Makram to see. "This here is the map I used to find you. It probably points to six other treasures of equal value all over the continent and I'm heading off to find one of them today - and you should probably help me since it's your fault in the first place I'm in such desperate need of more treasure."

    "So you wish for me to accompany you as penance?"

    "Ye-" you cut yourself off, snapping your jaw shut like a trap, and scowl at him to the fullest extent a draconic snout can allow. He barely suppresses his laughter at your pantomime puppet face and waves his hand as if to clear the air.

    "This may prove entertaining. So long as you understand that without a wish I am under absolutely no obligation to help you in any way, I will deign to accompany you."

    "Who said I needed any help from you?" you retort.

    "You did. Several seconds ago."

    " 'Need'? Hah! Pfhah! Haha!" You're really not as good at the regal scoffing thing as he is. "I'm a dragon! I don't 'need' anything, I want what I want and I take what I want! No I will deign to let you accompany me out of a sense of guilty obligation because you almost ruined my life."

    "Of course, of course," Makram replies with a knowing smirk. "Master."

    You roll the map back up all at once and shove it back in the tube very forcefully. "Yeah well you saw the tower and I've got your lamp so follow me or don't I don't (fuckin' care, stupid)" You loop the strap of the bag around one talon and grow, shifting up into your true form until it's 'shrunk' down around it like a very cheap mortal's wedding band. You don't bother looking back because Makram'd probably derive some sort of satisfaction or victory from it, instead kicking off into the air and soaring away south.

    You remember why you don't go flying more often. It's very boring when it's a long trip and you're all alone. There's not even worrying about whether or not you're on-course to break up the tedium, you've got a compass in your head and even you can't fuck up your bearing. There's a brief semi-literal jolt of excitement as clouds form overhead and you barrel-roll to catch a bolt of lightning directly in your mouth like a snowflake, but that's relatively early in your many, many, manymanymany-hour journey.

    You glide along, wings outstretched like the great leathery sails of some nightmare bat. Nightmare bat - does Belial have wings? Plenty of the illustrations you saw gave incubi leather wings. Among... other things. Is that real? You should ask him sometime. Unless that's rude by incubus standards or something. But then how does he get in and out of your cave? He told you he can use dreams like interdimensional corridors but that doesn't explain him not being around while you're awake. Does he climb?

    Gods you're bored. You hang your head and stare at the landscape as it slips by below you, flapping your wings intermittently to maintain altitude. It's all so muscle-memorised that you could practically fall asleep like this. But even you don't succumb to the temptation because you do not want to plough headfirst into a mountain and have to live with the fact that you did for the rest of your life. Grasslands... farmland, a few terrified peasants running for cover... road... grasslands... forest... old witch's hut... lake... fjord... rocky place, herd of goats (hungry, ehn, not hungry enough)... more farmland... looks like a quarry or a mine or something...

    Ugh. At least Jun-ho would've been someone to talk to. Belial and Issachar might've been too, but they can't fly so you might've had to put them on your back and that's just a nightmare and a half to imagine. Hm. You glance down speculatively at your empty foreclaw. If you were extra careful maybe you could just carry them? That'd be more dignified. You've got a gentle grip, you're sure they'd get off with just some minor bruising. Maybe a lot of chafing in Belial's case, the near-nudist fuck. Is that a cultural thing or do incubi have some excuse like hyper-sensitive skin or something? You should ask when you get back, too.

    Gods end this pain now.

    A few hours later, with the sun past its zenith and you reduced to humming One Hundred Bags Of Gold On The Wall, you finally catch sight of it. It looks to be a tall minaret, growing from the side of the mountain as if the entire thing were just one grand temple to one of the gods - which one you have no idea, you don't pay a lot of attention to mortal religions, just that there are multiple and it's just kind of automatic to say 'oh gods' to stuff. You notice what looks like a well nestled in the shadows behind the tower, long since capped and sealed tight - they get water this high up? Well, wizard.

    In all honesty you expected something more local, architecture-wise, when you heard about an 'old' wizard's tower - but when you think about it a little more you concede that you and mortals have very different conceptions of what 'old' is, and the Tanin-Arosa wars did end while you were a teenager. Frankly if a dragon owned it anything under a century is still 'he just popped out for some business' territory. In any case it's of Tanin make, a glorious edifice of sandstone and brass inlay that catches the sun just so to make the whole thing glow as brilliantly as any treasure. It must be absolutely glorious at sunrise or sunset - the Sultanate has good taste.

    You touch down by the front door, shifting down to bipedal form as you go. Looks like it's mostly sheer cliffs on all sides, any paths that might've led up to it conventionally either worn away or deliberately broken. No wonder nobody's checked it out before, you'd need to fly or teleport to get here at all. While you wait for your interminable asshole of a companion to do the latter you retrieve the map to give it one more once-over. The compass points straight at the front door, just as you hoped - magnificent. You're not quite at the point of salivating again yet, but there is a certain hungry leer on your face as you stow the map away. If you don't stop imagining what might be inside you'll drive yourself to distraction.

    Makram materialises beside you in a flash of smokeless golden flame. "So, knocked yet?" he asks.

    "Dragons do not knock," you sniff. "We go where we please."

    "Then please, lead on."

    You wait for him to add 'master'. He does too. It takes you several seconds to realise what he's doing and you grumble angrily under your breath, stomping up to the door in question and trying the handle. To your surprise, it actually opens, and you step inside.

    To somewhat less surprise, the interior of the tower makes use of a soupçon of impossible space. The entrance chamber takes up what from the outside would appear to be the entire ground floor, yet there's a great set of brass double-doors on the other side of the wall that would just lead to a solid cliff face and some dirt if that's all it was. No, you can smell the magic in the air just as easily as you could smell if an entire family of deer that all happened to be bleeding had passed through the area. The tower wants something of you, as anything worth doing does.

    To pay more attention to your immediate surroundings than 'mmmm, magic...' you stop in the centre of the room and turn in a slow circle. It's round even though the tower was square from the outside, cool and gloomy despite the sun-soaked precipice on which it stands, surrounded on all sides by neat channels cut into the marble floor. Water flows endlessly through the conduits from some unseen source, dark as ink in the gloom, and yet in all these years it doesn't seem to have eroded the stone at all. The conduits fork at many points, perhaps intending to drain elsewhere at some point, but the alternate paths seem magically sealed, turning the water away with barriers of thin air. Instead it all just flows right back to the start, an endless, pointless loop. The brass double doors are flanked by a pair of cloaked constructs, whatever weapons they may wield hidden beneath the gold-embroidered fabric, their near-featureless brass skulls staring straight ahead.

    Makram floats in on his golden dust-cloud, radiating light like a torch in his own right. The glow seems to be coming from his half-molten jewellery, which you're increasingly starting to think is just a part of his body.

    "Well then? Ask the nice men if they'll let you in," he says.

    You shoot him a look, but don't bother protesting out loud. Instead you walk forward with long, measured, deliberately-chosen strides, watching the constructs all the while. The second you get ten paces from the door they each take one step inward to block it with their bodies and come to attention with a synchronised metallic crash of armoured feet on stone.

    "None may pass until the riddle is answered," they answer in unison, their voices hollow, brassy and booming. Their jaws don't move, lipless mouths sealed tight as the sound just seems to emanate from their general direction.

    "Riddles," you hiss. "Why are wizards like this?"

    "They're basically history's greatest monsters," Makram agrees wholeheartedly.

    You double-take, but shake your head and turn your attention back to the guards instead. "Alright. Tell us the riddle then."

    The constructs respond in unison once more. "I kill in droves, I raze whole cities. I devour mountains and scour the land clean. And yet I am praised, even worshipped. I absolve your sins but carry them with me, and so persist in the dark, festering, unforgotten. What am I?"

    Silence falls. You scratch your scaly chin.

    "I feel like I'm missing some cultural context here," you mutter.

    "It didn't even rhyme," Makram adds, faintly offended. "What sort of riddle doesn't rhyme?"

    "Probably translated from Elvish," you say offhand. "Give the locals a fair shot, ruin the structure of it all. Damn shame."

    "Well then," he says. "Any ideas? I'm sure a glorious superior being such as yourself should be able to easily trounce any mortal's idea of an intellectual challenge~"

    "Shush you," you snap. "I'm thinking."

    Thinking thinking thinking. Hm. Being weird and obtuse about it unless you already know the gist of where it's coming from is kind of the idea, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating or unfair. How were you supposed to know that caring about the world outside your spire was going to come in handy someday? Mrgh, nothing for it, you might just be stuck making a bunch of educated guesses and hoping. And er, hoping too many wrong guesses doesn't make the guards freak out and attack you. Or... hrm...

    [ ] Answer the riddle yourself.
    --[ ] Write-in.
    [ ] Try to trick Makram into solving it by playing on his ego. It's clear the only thing he loves more than putting people down is puffing himself up, and you're such an easy target he might just take the bare hook, let alone bait.
    [ ] Just wish to be inside the tower where all the best treasure is. You really have no patience for this puzzle shit, and Makram does still owe you two wishes.
    [ ] Brute-force it.
    --[ ] Go outside, shift up, and batter the fuck out of the tower until you make your own door.
    --[ ] Just fight the guards and force the door. They're just a pair of constructs, absolutely no match for a dragon and an ifrit.
    [ ] Go outside and inspect that sealed well. Maybe this while puzzle room is just a diversion and there's really a secret passage through there to the true lair underground? Or it could actually be a sealed well and you'll waste time and Makram will laugh at you.
    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 11, 2018 at 12:33 AM, finished with 75 posts and 40 votes.
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    • Chapter Fourteen - You Thought I Was Playing Checkers While You Were Playing Chess But In Truth I Was Playing Fourth-Dimensional Backgammon!
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    • Hrmmm. Hrmmmmmmmm.

    ... you know with all the tricks he's already pulled on you and his general Makram-ness, he really deserves to get taken down a peg at least once. And how better than right now, as he's so eager to watch you fail? So eager, perhaps, that he'll slip over the proverbial edge in his enthusiasm to give you a push? You stroke your chin and stare at the door, hiding your wicked grin as you put your plan into action.

    It mostly involves a lot of waiting. And waiting. And making 'hmm' noises as you genuinely try to work out the riddle in your spare time. The shadowed water drips and babbles as it flows endlessly on.

    "Need some help-"

    "No," you snap immediately.

    "As you wish," Makram finishes airily.

    The automatons are, of course, as still as statues. You do a few circuits of the room itself, partly because you're thinking, partly as something to do. Upon closer inspection it's not just the gloom, the water really is black. In fact is it even water? It's very close, that much is clear, but there's a certain viscosity to it that leaves you wondering. Some type of oil? You take a curious half-sniff. Doesn't smell like water either.

    "I bet you wish this riddle were-"

    "You stop that!" you cut him off. It's quite easy to play the role - mostly because you're only half pretending. He is so very annoying and insufferably smug, you're starting to wonder why you bothered bringing him. All the sweeter when he finally gets a taste of humility for a change. Hm, maybe you should've brought the magic jug. Given him a blast of water to cool him down. Or maybe the mayonnaise like you first tried. He can feel sticky and unclean for a few hours trying to clean it all off.

    More time ticks on marked by the low, gurgling babble of the black water as it flows endlessly on. You sneak glances at Makram out of the corner of your eye as you do more circuits, inspect random pieces of the surroundings for clues. He's starting to get bored and antsy, you can tell. He keeps shifting positions on his silly dust-cloud-thing restlessly, legs swinging in the empty air as he casts his eyes around.

    "This really is just getting embarrassing," he says at last. "Just use your wish already so we can both move on with our lives."

    "No!" you shout as you turn, jabbing an accusatory talon in his direction. "Because I know the only reason you're even offering all the time is to piss me off, I know your game by now and it won't work! We will stand here in this tower all night if we have to because that would still be better than giving you the satisfaction!"

    "I mean I suppose you can see it that way if you'd like," he retorts languidly, checking his golden claws, worrying away at a little imaginary dirt. "If we just sit here waiting for you to solve it we shall be very old men by the time you're done."

    Ohhhh that emphasis on 'you' solving it. He already knows, or thinks he does at least. He's just trying to make you squirm. Well two can play at that game, sunshine.

    "Y'know what?"

    "I'm sure I could fill several books with what I know in comparison to you but go on," Makram replies half-sleepily.

    "You don't know either, do you?"

    He slowly arches an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"

    "You have no idea what the answer is," you say. "Here you are taking every opportunity to talk about what a big fat smartypants you are but you're holding back the actual answer. I don't think it's just to try and make me 'waste' a wish. I think if you knew you'd blurt it out the first chance you get just to prove how much quicker you did it. I think you're bluffing."

    Makram scoffs, waving his hand as if to dismiss a cloud of rancid air. "Preposterous."

    "Is it? Mister Makram 'I'm-Too-Good-For-This' Djinn." You leer at him triumphantly. "That's why you're needling me to break down and wish for the answer. Because wishes let djinn do otherwise impossible things. And if I wish, just for a moment, you'll actually be as clever as you think you are."

    "That's a very cute theory you have there," Markam retorts with a scowl. "But I must question your endgame. Do you plan to stand here with me for days, boring me to tears, as some punitive measure?"

    "Oh no," you say. "I already know the answer's 'War'. I just left it this long to fuck with you."

    Makram laughs uproariously, slapping a gilded hand over his toned stomach to keep it from leaping too high as he practically barks. "You idiot! All that preamble and hot-air blowing and you get it wrong! I knew it was 'Water' in five-!"

    There's a long, pregnant pause as it fully sinks in.

    "Your answer is adequate," the constructs intone as one, and step aside with a synchronous metallic crash. A wickedly devious grin spreads across your snout from ear to ear, baring damn near every fang you've got. Makram makes a face like he's experiencing a powerful urge to shit an entire barrel and he's not quite sure whether to hold it in or pass it through. Mmmff, gods you could savour that expression for days, it's the finest treasure you could ever hope for. But if you push it too much he might ruin it so instead you turn away, safe and secure in the knowledge that you beat him and he knows you know. You have a spring in your step as you stride up to the great brass doors and fling them open, practically feel the urge to whistle. You hear no footsteps, of course, but you can all-too-easily imagine Makram following like a very sulky golden stormcloud.

    You step into a small circular antechamber with no other door - it seems skipping the riddle and forcing your way in with your mighty dragonstrength would've been in vain. The brass doors slam shut behind you, and just as you feel a stab of worry that you somehow fell into a trap the entire room begins to slowly rotate. You don't feel any ascending going on so it can't be a regular elevator, maybe some other arcane mechanism to fold space so you wind up in the tower proper? Damn wizards can't just get a nice big lock on the door or something.

    "So do explain your reasoning, I'm dying to know," you say at last while you wait for the room to finish turning, glancing at Makram.

    "Mm? What? I'm very tired all of a sudden I think I need to take a nap," the ifrit mumbles lazily as he shuts his eyes and takes said nap right there on his hovering dust-cloud. Or just pretends. Both are equally likely.

    "(Enjoy the sleep of failure~)" you singsong under your breath, loving this far too much than is probably healthy. You keep waiting and see to your mild surprise that the room has turned beyond 180 degrees and is busily making its way right back to where it used to be. Indeed once it returns to its old position it finally halts, audibly locking into place with the doorway - no way it just spun you in a circle, that's oddly mundane for it to just be a wizard fucking with you. You slowly stride forward and push the double doors inward, and indeed find an entirely different room than the one you left lying beyond the threshold.

    It's pretty much everything you expected and/or hoped for in a wizard's inner sanctum. One part laboratory to one part observatory to one part library to one part office to one part living room. It's richly decorated in the signature Tanin style, brass latticework and filigree everywhere someone could shove it, custom-shaped bookcases and shelves piled high with scrolls and tomes along every available surface, a high domed ceiling through which the stars can be glimpsed even though you're sure you didn't take so long night fell conventionally outside. There's a collapsed mechanism up there suspended in the dome, no doubt ready to unfold down within easy reach into a complicated and horribly expensive telescope at its master's command. The space isn't wanting for cushioned reading nooks either - it's downright cosy in its own way, although you think it needs a lot more piles of gold lying around to be proper lived-in. The central workspace is full of desks and benches piled high with alchemical glassware and research notes, enough quills and ink to arm a squad of professional scholars mixed in with a dozen of the newer fountain pens. That's all very interesting but- aha, there in the back, a row of wooden chests from which you smell magic and money.

    Okay so you've smelled magic ever since you came in but there are subtly different types and- look dammit you trust your own nose in this and your nose knows that you should be leaping across this room and smashing those boxes open with your big scaly fist right now.

    And then you remember yourself and realise you aren't alone. You don't feel too bad, though - the other person in the room doesn't realise it either. It looks to be the wizard who owns the place, buried in whatever notes they're making and scribbling away in a black-gloved hand, so focused they might as well be blind and deaf. It's hard to tell much about their build beyond their average height, their many-layered linen robes draped over their frame with about as much care and eye for fashion as a couple bath towels, wearing such an impressive conical wizard hat it boggles the mind. It casts their entire face in deep shadow, hanging so low it must be half-covering their eyes at best, the brim alone about six inches wide on each side.

    It looks like they're multitasking, come to think of it. The bench directly behind them has an experiment still running, a beaker of the black water from the 'level below' bubbling away above a burner as a squiggly thing drip-feeds something hot-pink into it. Perhaps they forgot to turn it off before they started making notes, or just figured they had the time to do it between stages.

    The black water boils higher and higher, louder and louder, climbing the sides of the beaker until it's near slopping over the sides with each bubble popped. The hot-pink fluid just seems to be pissing it off even more, and-or the flame beneath it is getting hotter, and clearly something dramatic is about ready to happen in the next four seconds, give or take.

    [ ] Rush in and stop the soon-to-be-explosion. If it goes off it might affect you, and you care about you!
    [ ] Rush in and push the wizard out of the way of the soon-to-be-explosion. They might be so grateful they offer a reward!
    [ ] Tell the wizard that their thing is about to explode. That way they can handle it and you have no culpability if it still fucks up.
    [ ] Use this as a distraction to cross the room and loot the place. Hey, you already broke in, might as well make the most of it.
    [ ] Do nothing. You kinda want to see what's gonna happen.
    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 12, 2018 at 6:32 AM, finished with 1089 posts and 41 votes.
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    • Chapter Fifteen - The Sorcerer's Apprentice... Is Surprisingly Talkative, All Things Considered
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    • "Hey your thing's about to explode," you say, mostly just so you can say that you did. The wizard whirls around and, of course, completely overreacts to discovering that their tower was just broken into by a pair of strange and incredibly handsome men. They fling their arms up in a surprisingly silent 'cry' of surprise, ink spattering from the pen still clutched tight in their hand. Just the distraction their experiment needs to boil completely over, the glass beaker fracturing from base to rim as it all just suddenly explodes.

    You raise your arm to shield yourself from the worst of it, heated glass shrapnel bouncing off your scales like pebbles as it goes off with a puff of flame and firework-like crack. Glassware rattles and shakes, papers rustle, there's a heavy thump as the wizard stumbles into the table they were at and suddenly down that goes with the aforementioned wizard along for the ride. Thud goes the heavy wooden thing, papers spilling and flying in every direction, floating to earth like yellowed leaves as the wizard lies stunned and dizzy in a pile of robes and the wreckage of whatever it is they were working on.

    "Mm?" You can picture Makram cracking open one disinterested eye behind you all too easily.



    "Wizard exploded," you explain.

    "Mm, fascinating." You can somehow tell he shut his eyes again right then and there.


    (( art by @Camellia ))

    The wizard clambers to their feet, dusting down their robes - looks like good cotton, bleached pure white and trimmed in gold. If anything's out of place it's that giant hat, like some kind of crooked leather capstone perched on the wizard's head. They adjust the fit of said askew hat, prodding the brim up high enough that you can see their eyes at last. They're... equally odd. The space between the hat brim and the collar of their robes appears to be nothing but pitch-black shadow, save for a pair of pure white eyes like two blobs of paint. It looks more like something out of a children's book than real life, a dot-eyed wizard caricature that tells the kids that the real magic words are 'please' and 'thank you'. Lying to them early and often, as is the way of things among mortals.

    And then instead of do anything sensible like shout at you for breaking into their home the wizard just stares at you. Silent, unmoving, unblinking, as if waiting expectantly for you to explain yourself. It works. You're so unnerved you feel yourself compelled to speak.

    "Iiii'm... Eldingar," you say haltingly, gesturing at yourself. You add a wave in Makram's general direction, "and this is Makram. We thought your tower was abandoned, so we came to take all the treasure left in it." You pause. "Okay so that sounds a lot worse than it is, you see-"

    At which point the wizard holds up a small wooden sign they can't possibly have been hiding anywhere which reads [Hello! Welcome to the tower :D There haven't been guests over in a long time!]

    You blink twice, inclining your head slightly as if hoping to spy something revealing stuck to the other side of the sign. The wizard mirrors your motion then turns their gaze to the sign, flipping it around as if convinced by your suspicion that there really might be something wrong there.

    "Uhhh...?" you make a vaguely quizzical noise.

    [Is something the matter?] the wizard 'asks'. Changing signs is as simple as dropping their arm and raising it again. You know you can smell magic in the change-over, just a little whiff of it, but it seems absurdly wasteful even for a wizard with a lot of spare time to have devised a whole-

    "You're... mute, aren't you?" you ask.

    The wizard nods, raising a new sign. [Yep! Have been ever since I can remember. Which isn't saying much I guess.] Down goes the old sign, up comes the new one. [I think I hit my head really hard in an experiment a while back. A lot of my memories are all fuzzy or jumbled or missing completely.]

    Your furrow your brow. "The way I heard about this place, a lot of people were pretty sure the owner of this tower just up and left it. Aaaare they wrong?"

    [Oh I'm not the owner! I'm just the apprentice!] The wizard lowers the sign, considering things for a moment before raising the new one. [At least I think so. 75% sure!] [I even made sure to lock up the tower so nobody can get back in before the Master comes home!]

    There's a long, pregnant pause as you wait for this weird little wizard to catch up.

    "..." The wizard raises a new sign. [Okay maybe I didn't do a very good job.]

    "You made the password 'water' when the room was full of water," you say.

    [It's not water!] the wizard signs angrily back at you. [It's a very delicate and complicated magical compound that] they swap signs [Look it's a lot to explain and sign-space is limited :[ ]

    "I can see that," you say helpfully.

    [The point is it was a good riddle and I worked very hard on it! >:[ ] they sign. The angry face is even 'drawn' on appropriately scratchy and sloppy.

    "Mm." Sounds like Makram's waking up again. You glance over at him to find the ifrit hovering more or less level with you, cheek half-resting propped up on his palm as he regards the mute wizard. "I wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention. So you're a mute?"

    [Mhm. Can't make a sound,] they sign in reply. [That's why I invented this signmaking cantrip!] [Sometimes the letters get a bit cramped but it works well!]

    "I thought most mortal spellcasting used incantations or something. Or at least some of the spells," you say with a bit of a shrug. "How do you deal with those?"

    The wizard is silent for a time. At last, as if having to write it in real-time, they sign back [I'm working on it].

    You're hit by a sudden, unexpected stab of guilt as you get the feeling that you essentially just asked 'so how do you deal with stairs?' of a man with no legs. Heavy, awkward silence falls in which you will find no salvation coming. The wizard just keeps staring at you with those big, bright, paintblotch eyes.

    "Ssssooo..." you start. "What- sorry, I have a hard enough time telling mortals apart already, are you a man or a woman?"

    [Nope!]

    Your snout stays open as you try to find a response. Slowly, slowly, it seems to shut all by itself. They've got you there, no arguing with that. You scratch the back of your neck, talons scraping down harder-than-iron scales, but if the noise bothers the wizard they show no sign (har) of displeasure. Makram is still sulking so it's up to you.

    [ ] Ask them what they've been up to all this time. Must've had to find a shitload to do if they've been at this ever since their master disappeared.
    [ ] Ask them if they'd take a look at the treasure map for you. You're kind of curious to work out the exact what and why of how it works, and who better to tell you than a (quasi) expert?
    [ ] Ask about the weird black water, if it's 'not' water and they've been experimenting on it. Does it have anything to do with the capped well you saw outside?
    [ ] Ask about the tower's owner. What were they like, what was their deal, where did they go, what did they intended to do, etc etc. Boring small-talk stuff you don't care about.
    [ ] Ask about the damn gold already, you've put it off too long and you're starting to get the shakes. The map pointed you to treasure and you won't leave empty-handed.
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    • Chapter Sixteen - You Finally Get Some Answers But Honestly Ignorance Was Better
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    • The silence stretches on, to be filled by nobody else but you. This was really supposed to be a lot easier. The wizard was supposed to be gone-gone with no weird mute alleged apprentice waiting in his place to guard all the valuables and you were supposed to get the rare opportunity to steal everything interesting and cool a master wizard owned. Now what do you have? An awkward one-sided conversation you have to carry somehow because the stupid map pointed you to-

    Hang on, that's it! You've got this magic map you don't know how it works really and there's a free wizard right here and clearly spoiling for shit to do! You wind the leather strap around your hand a few more times, bringing the bag closer for ease of rummaging.

    "Hey, if you're looking for things to do tests on, I've got a thing here," you say.

    [Oh?]

    "Yeah it's a magic map I bought a few days ago." You produce the crystal-inlaid map tube and hand it over to the shorter apprentice wizard. "It's pointing me to sssstuff in all sorts of places all over the continent and one of the markers led me here. Another led to Makram's lamp. I'm assuming it points to treasure but-" you shrug "-I dunno, might as well ask a professional?"

    [I'll look at it right away! :D] they reply enthusiastically, examining the tube every which way as they wiggle the sign in their free hand. [A brand new magic thing I didn't make myself, oh this is wonderful!]

    Now that you're paying proper attention you can see at least some semblance of expression on the weird shadow-person's face. The pure white eyes shift and distort in imperfect imitation of the emotion they wish to convey - angling down with invisible 'eyebrows' for a frown or scowl, arcing up into crescent moons for mirth and happiness, widening slightly for surprise and 'blinking' as if disappearing and reappearing behind vantablack eyelids. They hurry over to a workstation that hasn't recently been flipped over and you follow, Makram remaining exactly where he is in a very pointedly relaxed and uncaring nap-pose.

    [I'll have to be quiet while I work, sorry] the wizard signs as they shake the map free of its tube. [Can't talk with both hands busy.]

    "Sure, no problem." It's easy to be courteous when you're already struggling for conversation more than the mute person.

    The wizard spreads out the map nice and flat, the enchanted vellum remaining ruler-straight and flat despite all the time it spent rolled up. Their hands hover over the yellowed surface, gloved fingers twiddling with almost manic glee. Possibly also arcane gestures, as thin golden traceries begin to snake from their fingertips like coloured ink spilled in water. They build atop each other, wriggling and squirming this way and that, enmeshing the map in a fine lattice hovering an inch off the vellum itself. The marked locations continue to shine as brightly as ever, visible even through whatever magic the wizard is working.

    A gesture with both hands, as if commanding an orchestra to rise, and the map lifts itself into the air. The wizard delicately curls the outer two fingers on each hand, commanding the map to spin around and show them the blank side. A side which suddenly isn't so blank any more. It looks like... you don't know, instructions? A how-to manual? A maker's mark? It's all flowing and close-written and the gift of tongues is mostly for that, tongues. Theoretically you can read anything too, but no matter how you squint the letters just seem to swim frustratingly. Is it a dead language, courtesy of the people whose traces keep turning up in the Beyond? The ones who made Makram's lamp?

    The wizard flips the map around and sets it back down again with a little bob up and down of satisfaction. They flick their wrist and the strange mesh of magic dissipates, a hundred gold threads shooting up into the air and leaving behind nothing but fast-fading, glittering motes.

    "So what can you tell me about it?" you ask.

    [Not a lot! Isn't that exciting!? :D]

    "I guess," you say neutrally. "But what can you tell me?"

    [Oh it's a wonderful piece, absolutely stunning!] They indicate things on the map with their free hand as they sign at you. [You said you just bought it? Who would be dumb enough to sell this!?] [Don't answer that I don't really care.] [What's actually interesting is that this map doesn't necessarily point to treasure!]

    "But that's-" you start, immediately very concerned that there's no gargantuan piles of treasure awaiting you at each spot.

    [Shush!]

    You shush.

    [This map is about finding things that the attuned owner wants to find!] they explain, flashing signs almost faster than you can read. [Or... needs to find?] [In this context they're kind of the same thing.] [The point is that if it's pointing you to treasure it's only because right now you crave treasure more than anything else in the entire world!]

    You need a second to peer at the lettering on that last sign, it gets pretty cramped. "That... sounds about right," you reply at last. "So it must be working just like I assumed it did?"

    [Mhm!] They point at the map once more, specifically at the compass. [It even attuned itself to you, see? It's not following my desires it's still following yours!]

    And then the wizard freezes, their last sign still held up nice and high for you to read. Because they've forgotten all about it and instead turned their attention to where they're pointing. At the needle of the magic compass as it points, not at north, not at anything else in the room, but them. You watch, your stomach seeming to freeze solid, as the wizard slowly takes three steps left, then six steps right. The needle unerringly, unmistakably, follows their motion.

    "Hey, no listen-" you start.

    They still can't make any noise but they still somehow give the impression of a light, high-pitched 'eeeeeeeee'. Their last sign falls and dissipates in mid-air, forgotten, as they slap their gloved hands to their cheeks and... blush. It amounts to a faint white haze and a few cross-hatched marks, as if drawn on with a white pen, but it's unmistakable.

    "H-hey just- just let me explain first-" you sputter, increasingly bewildered as to how your life can so continually go so wrong.

    [No no no no calm down it's fine!] the wizard quickly signs. [Gods I just-] [eeeehee :3]

    "I just don't want you getting the wrong idea over a-"

    [It doesn't have to mean you immediately love me, silly!] the wizard waggles their sign in your face, practically ready to bonk you right between the horns with it. [Just being able to tell how someone already feels is baby magic for babies, and this map is way too cool for that.] [It measures overall potential for satisfaction with whatever it is you want to pursue so badly it appears on the map] [So what it means is your heart's greatest desire is someone to love you and that's so cuuuuuuute~]

    "D-don't go putting words in my mouth because some map told you to!" you say quickly, waving your claws in a desperate 'cease and desist' motion.

    [Oh look, the glowing spot in the tower with me is brighter than most of the others.] [And you said it led you to his lamp?]

    "That's not-"

    [I could hold the map up next to him and see :3]

    "This is not what I wanted when I asked for your opinion," you groan. "Thank you for your service but-"

    At which point you completely lose control of the situation because, no doubt called forth by the unmistakable sounds of you freaking out, Makram has awoken and read enough signs to get the gist. You find him hovering on his back beside you, hands clasped tight over his well-toned stomach, laughing so hard he isn't actually making much sound. It's just helpless belly convulsions and and a lot of teary-eyed, suffocated wheezing. You scowl at him to the fullest extent you are capable of, lacking the wherewithal to do it with words right now, but the moment he cracks his eyes open wide enough to see your expression he just laughs harder. You slowly turn your head back towards the wizard and just... just kind of let it all wash over you. Because this cannot get any worse. You have hit rock-bottom.

    [Could you point to where on the map your lair is please?] the wizard asks. [I need a definite location to teleport and that way we can go on dates easily :3]

    "I-I'm not sure about-"

    "There," Makram interjects, pointing to exactly where your lair is, his voice strained by the guffaws still threatening to consume him and steal the last shred of air from his lungs. "With the others."

    Indeed there's still a double-strength point of light at your lair, no doubt indicating Jun-ho and Belial. And off to the south a bit, right where Issachar told you his farm was, lies a second. The seven treasures you thought the map pointed you to are now ten... love interests.

    [Looks like someone's collected half the set already~] the wizard teasingly signs.

    Okay you were incorrect this is rock-bottom. Makram wheezes in your ear again and you look down at yourself speculatively, just to check if you've forgotten to shift your lower half back from mortal like all the other nightmares of this calibre. The wizard gently touches your arm to get your attention and you lift your head again.

    [Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to actually make you feel bad. :c] [In all this excitement I forgot to introduce myself.] [I dunno if it's my real name from before the accident but you can call me Abzu.]

    "Nice to meet you I guess," you say, mostly because you have to. "Look I've just had a- YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP-" Makram at least stops wheeze-laughing right in your year "-rough few days. Family pressure, people moving in, half my gold blowing up, I just really needed this to be about something simple like treasure."

    [I see.] Abzu keeps the sign held up for a moment while they cast their eyes around and think. [I can't just give away my master's stuff willy-nilly, but there's plenty of stuff I made that's just sitting around collecting dust otherwise. D'you want any of it?]

    You blink. The offer floors you. Abzu has all this magical stuff they made, not even stuff they rightfully bough or stole, and they'd just... give it away? It's madness, worthy of deep suspicion, were the weird little wizard not so much of an oddity anyway.

    "That... would be nice," you say haltingly.

    [Great! Don't worry about transport, with a teleport location I can just bring it over myself.] [Oh but speaking of teleport!] Abzu twiddles their fingers around the handle of the sign as they pause to think about the next one. [It's pretty late out. If you flew back you definitely wouldn't make it before dark.] [D'you want me to teleport you back now, or stay the night here and fly back by yourself?] [It's no trouble either way, got heaps of space here and plenty of magic to spare.]

    You're still acutely aware of Makram's presence beside and slightly behind you, but at this point it's a matter of pride that you not turn to look at him again. You force yourself to consider nothing but Abzu's words, magically scrawled on wooden signs they may be. You certainly have no desire to fly back in the dead of night so that's no third option. Teleporting sounds wonderfully quick and simple, but it means bringing Abzu right into your lair and showing them off to the other freeloaders or otherwise having to scramble to get out in front of explaining before Makram can be Makram. Staying the night also sounds nicely lazy, and possibly involve magicking up sufficiently dragony sleeping arrangements, but it might give Abzu and Makram even more wrong ideas than they already have.

    [ ] Have Abzu teleport you home tonight.
    [ ] Stay the night in Abzu's tower.
    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 13, 2018 at 7:37 PM, finished with 1212 posts and 32 votes.
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    • Chapter Seventeen - It's Entirely Possible That Abzu Has Been Planning A Sleepover Exactly Like This For Literal Years
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    • "Hnnnnnnnnnnnalright I suppose I can stay the night," you say at last.

    [YAY! :D] Abzu signs triumphantly, literally jumping for joy. But only once. They have some standards.

    "That's all well and good for you, but what of my arrangements?" Makram interjects.

    "What of you?" you shoot right back, folding your arms. "You can teleport. Stay or go, I don't give a shit, I'm not your nanny."

    "But you are my master," Makram remarks with just a slight teasing lilt. "Your every wish my command~"

    You narrow your eyes to slits. "I loathe you." He just smirks that insufferably smug smirk.

    Abzu, possibly distracted doing something else or signing something you missed or otherwise completely uninterested in the continuing saga of your rivalry with Makram, grabs you by the arm and starts dragging you around the room show you things. A startled "h-hey!" is the most you get before they start feverishly signing and honestly you didn't expect someone mute to be so overwhelming. You can't muster up the energy to be irritated and snap at them to stop touching you already because you're too busy trying to keep up with the signs and the voice in the back of your head -very small and ill-used voice that is- reminds you that when you can't talk there's literally no alternative to get someone's attention. Plus Makram might somehow enjoy it if you snapped at Abzu and in the name of giving him no further satisfaction you will endure any discomfort no matter how protracted.

    Over here is a book that reads itself aloud to you in a voice that is at once neutral and wonderfully expressive. [It was hard to teach it to speak when I couldn't just dictate.] [But that just made it more satisfying when I did.] [Sometimes I like to imagine that's just me reading aloud.] [But I never really had anyone to talk to before you so!] Off to another station with what looks like a bronze fountain pen filled with white ink - until Abzu starts drawing in the empty air with it. Just a few rapid strokes and they've sketched out a startlingly faithful wireframe reproduction of how the tower looked from the outside, signing with their free hand all the while. [Three-dimensional pen!] [This was mostly for fun.] [But maybe architects could use it?] [Or artists!] A quick round trip of the various alchemical glassware. [I dabble in this stuff but I can't drink potions to test them so ehn] [Sometimes stuff like paint or solvents, y'know, just in the downtime] [I might have discovered a new colour but I have a sneaking suspicion I see a different spectrum to most people.]

    Abzu drags you back across the room to the door you came in through, waving their hand at a locking mechanism you couldn't see from the outside. Something turns over with a mechanical click and when the door opens it leads not to the elevator-like antechamber but a different circular room. This one is a little more boring and functional, simple grey stone -albeit carved quite nicely- lit by a dozen orbs of pure white light set in the ceiling and containing what appear to be five hovering points of inflected reality contained within carved circles of stabilising magic script. Abzu waves their hand and all five open at once into ovoid doors, two-dimensional gateways rimmed in smoky violet energy. You take an experimental step sideways, watching how a window into what appears to be a small tropical island simply vanishes behind the invisibly thin side of the portal. It's slightly perturbing so you step right back to Abzu's side.

    [You know about the Beyond, yeah?] Abzu asks.

    "Of course." You point them out in order. The aforementioned island is part of the southern Beyond, island chains rising from beneath the endless waves and then sinking again completely at random. The one next to it is the eastern desert, scorching sands and storms as far as the eye can see, revealing millennia-old ruins beneath the dunes every time the wind changes. The one next to that is the frozen north, nothing but a wall of mountains that just seem to climb infinitely high and glaciers clinging jealously to hidden secrets with frost-rimed fingers - full of wildlife that's long since died out in the static world, fantastic for fur and meat trade. Next there's the western border, a forest of every kind of tree known to man and plenty more besides, growing back practically as soon as you cut them down, growing denser and denser as you wander from the shore until they're a literal trunk-to-trunk wall of impenetrable lumber and foliage. Which just leaves... ah, the underground layer. All you see through the portal is a small cave lit only by what light is spilling through the portal from your end, but that's all it has to be. Maybe Abzu or their master scouted a prime spot where a natural cave directly abuts the depth level when the Beyond takes over - that way 'refreshing' whatever you're trying to mine's theoretically as easy as turning the portal off and on again.

    "All in all I'd imagine it's pretty convenient to have all five on tap for your work," you finish.

    [Well yeah but I mean besides exploiting it for infinite resources.] Abzu signs.

    "Eh?" you say blankly.

    "They're asking you to use your brain, darling. I know it's a frightening prospect," Makram comments. "Why do you think the Beyond exists?"

    "Be... cause it always has?" you respond, brow ridges furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand the question, are you gonna ask me why the sky exists next?"

    "Your inquisitive mind astonishes me at every turn," Makram says.

    [Okay let me try a different angle] Abzu goes on. [You know how the world's round?]

    "Is it? Last I heard they were still debating that a lot."

    "The fact that this is still up for debate even in your time is simply staggering and deeply disappointing," the ifrit interjects once more. "Back in my day this was quite conclusively solved."

    Abzu is either ignoring him or too wrapped up in signing at you to even notice. [The world is round!] [In fact what we call the static world we live on is really just a small part of the globe.] [You just have to measure the curvature using the horizon!]

    "I'll uh, take your word for it?" It's really not very interesting but Abzu has the kind of enthusiasm about it that simply demands courtesy. Abzu steps away and does a short circuit, peering through each of the portals in turn as if to refresh their memory.

    [Just think about it.] [What if the Beyond wasn't infinite like everyone says?] [What if, if you just went far enough, the magic wore thin and you could break through to the other side?]

    "And... see the rest of the world?" you ask. "As in the real thing?"

    [Exactly! I mean just think about it! There could be an entire 'dark side' to our planet or more, potentially with its own species, its own cultures, its own everything just developing silently in parallel with us!] Abzu brings their fists to their shadowy 'face' and sort of jiggles with excitement. [Gods just thinking about it!]

    "People are always trying to get further in just to see what happens," you point out. "The line's been kind of creeping forward over the years I think but far as anyone can tell it's still infinite."

    [Well that's why it's a work in progress, dummy.] Abzu waves their hand and all the portals collapse back down again. [I work on all the other stuff to give myself a break.] [Y'know, between attacking the Beyond thing seriously.]

    "Such a shame about djinn then, and their notoriously spotty memories," Makram comments once more, like a cat meowing for its dinner increasingly insistently. You don't know if Abzu is ignoring him on purpose but you sure as hell are.

    "So that's your big goal?" you say, idly chipping a piece of fused sand off your left horn. "Be the first to break through the Beyond and see the far side of the world?"

    [Mhm! Further than anyone's ever gone!] [Portals and other point-to-point teleports don't work when both points are in the Beyond] [So I kind of have to invent my own method.] [Or make portals and stuff work.] [I'm working on both!]

    "Sounds like a long way to go," you remark, unable to keep the distaste out of your voice. You notice the quizzical look Abzu's shooting you. You shrug. "I dunno, I've always hated travelling. If I got my way I'd never go further than Söfnun for the rest of my life."

    [I dunno, you came pretty far past that to get here.] [Seems to me like you just need the right motivator :3]

    "H-hey, we already established I was here for money," you say with a frown.

    [I'm just teasing, dummy.] [But the point stands.] [Comfort zones are what you make of them, honestly.] [Your world's as big or as small as you're willing to let it be.]

    "Yeah yeah," you grumble, tail swishing irritably. "What about all this then? Staying in this tower for... how long's it been for you, anyway?"

    [I haven't really been paying attention] Abzu signs, waving their free hand dismissively. [Memory's wonky and it doesn't really matter.] [I mean yeah you're right it's not the same for me, I can teleport.] [But for one I'm still here 'cause of the black water.]

    "Is that not something you can just grab from the Beyond?" you ask, idly wandering over to one of the closed portals to inspect the weird, rippling surface of the oily black 'orb' in the air. You almost forget you have to look back at Abzu to actually read their reply.

    [Nope! The Beyond only has natural resources and precursor ruins.] [The black water's manmade. Kind of.] [It collects in the groundwater and other subterranean reservoirs at sites of major battles and other conflicts.] [Charged with necrotic energy and endlessly fascinating.]

    You let the silence go on a moment longer, scratching your scaly chin introspectively. "... in a way, doesn't that mean both our answers were right?"

    [Mm?]

    "You mean for that awful riddle?" Makram asks.

    [It was not awful! >:[ ] Abzu waves the sign belligerently.

    "The substance you're working on I mean. The riddle's meant to be about it, isn't it?" you explain. "I answered 'War', Makram answered 'Water'. But if it's created the way you say, it's kind of both."

    [...] Abzu helpfully keeps the ellipsis sign held up as they just stare, blinking their paintblotch white eyes once. [I was secretly a genius this whole time.]

    "I'm confused, were you not just vehemently defending your work under the belief that the simple surface-level answer was correct?" Makram 'innocently' asks.

    [ >8[ ] Abzu retorts eloquently. They turn back to you. [But I suppose I probably should do a little renovating of the puzzleroom at some point.] [Maybe I'll mess around with it once I'm done building your bedroom.]

    "Wait, 'building'?"

    [Yeah?] Their eyes arc up in an incomplete little grin. [Did you think I just had a suitable dragon lair lying around?]

    "I don't know what wizards do with their spare time and real estate," you grumble.

    [Point is I'll just whip something up once you're wanting to head off.] [But we've got some more time before then so we can still hang out more! :D]

    With Abzu offering to just spontaneously create a comfortable bedroom out of the aether for you, you're feeling a little more inclined to be conciliatory regarding Abzu's boundless enthusiasm for conversation and -in your opinion- overwhelming acceptance of the idea that the two of you could work as an item because a magic map said so. In any case you feel like this is a good point to contribute at least a little, if nothing else then to show you're not just a very large and scaly teddy bear that Abzu's marching around their home and lecturing. You are not prepared for this.

    [ ] Brainstorm better riddles and/or puzzles for the entry chamber. Odds are equal or better that Abzu will take it as an attempt to help over another criticism and get defensive again, and maybe this way Makram will be snide and constructive.
    [ ] Brainstorm something that Abzu could work on in their spare time, like another magic item. They seem the sort that appreciates having a million things on the burner at once (you aren't, it's nightmarish) and this way they can ramble about their creative process for a bit.
    [ ] Ask about this 'creating a bedroom' thing more in-depth. If they have some kind of architectural wizardry, maybe they'll be of some use back at your actual lair for sprucing the place up? That is one of the things Mother badgered you over.
    [ ] Give Makram some attention. He's all but pawing at your ankles and you're slightly concerned he'll start finding more dramatic ways to try and make the conversation all about him if you don't nip this in the bud. Maybe follow up on some of his pointed comments.
    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 14, 2018 at 10:48 PM, finished with 53 posts and 40 votes.
    • [x] Give Makram some attention. He's all but pawing at your ankles and you're slightly concerned he'll start finding more dramatic ways to try and make the conversation all about him if you don't nip this in the bud. Maybe follow up on some of his pointed comments.
      [X] Brainstorm better riddles and/or puzzles for the entry chamber. Odds are equal or better that Abzu will take it as an attempt to help over another criticism and get defensive again, and maybe this way Makram will be snide and constructive.
      [X] Ask about this 'creating a bedroom' thing more in-depth. If they have some kind of architectural wizardry, maybe they'll be of some use back at your actual lair for sprucing the place up? That is one of the things Mother badgered you over.
      [X] Brainstorm something that Abzu could work on in their spare time, like another magic item. They seem the sort that appreciates having a million things on the burner at once (you aren't, it's nightmarish) and this way they can ramble about their creative process for a bit.
      [X] Brainstorm something that Abzu could work on in their spare time, like another magic item. They seem the sort that appreciates having a million things on the burner at once (you aren't, it's nightmarish) and this way they can ramble about their creative process for a bit.
      --[X] Write-in: Suggest Abzu create a device by which you can carry lots of treasures and gold with you all at once
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    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 16, 2018 at 2:47 AM, finished with 66 posts and 49 votes.
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    • Chapter Eighteen - There's No Better Host Than Someone Who's Endlessly Fascinated By Everything You Say And Do
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    • With great reluctance, you turn and acknowledge Makram's presence.

    "You seem like you have something you'd like to add," you say.

    "Who? Me?" Makram asks, hand over his heart, the very picture of innocence. "What might a poor, meek djinn such as myself have to contribute to this meeting of minds?"

    You just look at him. He pumps one eyebrow, the corner of his mouth upturned. You suppress the urge to sigh.

    "Would you please tell us everything you remember about the world from before you were imprisoned in your lamp?" you ask, trying not to sound too bored. "Anything at all you remember would likely be invaluable from a scholarly standpoint."

    "A little overwrought but I'll take it," he replies loftily. "You see, while a djinn's memory is naturally spotty after ten millennia's slumber, bits and pieces do remain, becoming clearer or fainter depending on the day. I, for one, still recall an era in which the horizon was indeed quite an achievable goal."

    [Really!?] Abzu's eyes widen like saucers.

    "Indeed." The ifrit's eyes lazily drift shut as he almost daintily rests his golden talons on his sternum. "For in those ancient days when the sky above had no name the Beyond's purpose was already served by my kind. It was a golden empire of paradise, the peoples' every whims catered to by fleets of djinn who carved rivers and moved mountains. Why, I could have rearranged the very stars in the heavens above had my master wished it."

    [You mean your people lived before the Beyond!?] Abzu signs excitedly, scuttling past you to get closer to Makram. [What else do you remember?] [What was it like?] [How many types of djinn are there?] [Where could I find some more, for research purposes?] [Do you know when and how the Beyond was formed?] [Did you have the black water in your time?]

    "Please, please," Makram says, gently patting at the air as if to soothe Abzu's burning enthusiasm. Or at lest get them to stop whipping out signs quite so fast. "My recollection sometimes even changes moment by moment, such is the fog of ages." He polishes his golden talons on his chest. "But one thing I can say is that you shan't find a more fluent translator of old-world script alive."

    [That's incredible! I absolutely must show you some of the artefacts I've found! :D] Abzu pauses, as if scrutinising the ifrit. [You know if you wanted me to pay attention to you you could've just led with that.]

    Makram stills mid-motion. "Beg pardon?"

    [Call it a new riddle :3]

    Makram desperately suppresses a frown and you suppress the urge to point and laugh in kind. Abzu takes a few steps back so the two of you can get an equal view of their signs.

    [But we're gonna be seeing plenty of each other anyway so I won't keep you up!] [Come on, it's getting late and I think we've all had pretty long days.] [And you have that big flight back home in the morning!]

    Abzu leaves and you follow with a vague mumble of assent. Once more they gesture arcanely at the locking mechanism and when it opens it leads to an entirely new room. This one doesn't even have the teleport gates to spruce it up, it's nothing but bare stone lit by pure white orbs hovering a foot below the ceiling. It practically has 'blank room' chiselled into the floor. Abzu strides forward, shaking their gloved hands from their sleeves to warm up.

    They don't create it all out of thin air like you half-expected, but the show is no less impressive for it. You're impressed hard and early as a portal opens in the ceiling and a massive torrent of gold pours forth like a burst pipe, heavy coins ringing and jingling as they bounce and roll across the solid stone floor. Abzu glances over their shoulder at you once or twice, perhaps gauging how big you'll be in your true form based on your current height. When they finally cut the money off at the source you must grudgingly admit, while it's not as big as you'd like it's bigger than you hoped.

    "... is that real?" you ask, unable to help yourself.

    [Yep.] Abzu signs over their shoulder. [And no you can't have it.]

    "Wh- I- I would never!" you sputter indignantly. "No dragon would ever stoop so low as to ask for a... handout!"

    But you can't help picturing all that lovely gold raining down onto your diminished pile, imagine how it would glitter, how it would shine, oh just to imagine the jingling... You cough into your fist and tell yourself to behave. Besides, there's no way you'd get it all back to your spire without bullying either Abzu or Makram into teleporting it. Or maybe rooting around for a Bag of Holding. You should really invest in one of those. And maybe if you want it hard enough that stupid map will show you money instead of men.

    While you're preoccupied, Abzu brings in the finishing touches - sleeping bags and matching floor mats, laid out beside the treasure pile in a rough 'circle'. They stand in the centre and turn to face the two of you. [Ta-da!]

    "But why these bedrolls?" Makram asks, more confused than offended that Abzu would dare force him to lie in something so common.

    [Because then it's more like camping!]

    "That... only raises further questions."

    [Yeah well if you wanna be a spoilsport you can sleep on your cloud 8[ ] Abzu glances at you. [I would've gotten you one but they aren't really...] [built for someone of your body type.]

    "Very thoughtful of you," you reply mostly genuinely, automatically recalling the disastrous attempt at a charm-dream Belial inflicted on you. "Ah, one moment."

    You set the map bag down nearby and round the pile of gold, trying not to breathe too hard at the sight of it all, and slowly allow yourself to shift back up to your true size. It's not really the easiest thing to do smoothly while walking but you manage it, falling to all fours with a heavy thump as your changing mass and shape force you down. The room seems to be shrinking all around you, Makram and Abzu such tiny things now, as you crawl on top of the inviting pile of g-

    bzzt "ow!" You clip one of the orbs of light with a horn and it bursts, not in a pleasant tingle of electricity but a jolt of burning mana. No more than a pinprick, but still unexpected and unpleasant.

    [Sorry! D:]

    "It's fine," you rumble, settling down on the gold with a loud clink and a heavy sigh of satisfaction. You can feel your eyelids growing heavier almost immediately. You let out a few more pleased grumbles, flexing your talons against the side of the pile as you rock back and forth into a more comfortable position. Then, on a whim, you crack your near-facing eye open and glance at Abzu.

    "Did you say anything?" you ask.

    [No] Abzu signs suspiciously.

    "Mm." You fold your foreclaws in front of you and rest your scaly jaw on top, tail swishing this way and that before finally stilling, loosely curled around the bottom of the pile. You watch through one half-cracked eye as Abzu wriggles their way into their sleeping bag, looking up at Makram expectantly until the ifrit finally sighs and gives in. He sets down on the cold stone, peering dubiously into the body-shaped sleeve of warm fur and padding before gamely squirming himself down inside. Thanks to the differences in height Abzu can barely peek over the edge of theirs while Makram is able to comfortably leave his arms free, loosely crossed over where his lap must be. The way the water steamed off him when you fought, you doubt being cold is a problem for him.

    [Anyone need anything last-minute?] Abzu asks, poking the sign up past the edge of the sleeping bag. They haven't even taken the hat off. You and Makram assure them that there's nothing else you need and they let the sign dissipate like smoke against the floor. They raise one gloved hand, probably to command the lights, then pause.

    [I'm really glad you came to visit :) ]

    "It was... a good use of my time," you reply haltingly. "Goodnight."

    [G'night!]

    Abzu gestures, as if conducting an invisible orchestra, and the orbs of light above slowly dim to little more than starlight. Your slitted pupils widen to compensate, bathing the room in a greyscale twilight only you can see but for the soft golden light emanating from Makram's exposed body. The mood is set nonetheless. Slowly, gradually, you allow yourself to fall asleep.

    You dream you're standing on the map, no taller than a mouse, the points of light you once thought were treasures shining high into the sky in bright white pillars. Faint shapes dance within the ones you haven't yet sought out, a hundred years of idle daydreams and close-kept fantasies shuffling rapidly in and out in a barely-visible haze of want. You force yourself to look away, look at any part of the map that isn't that, and on the other end of the yellowed scroll you see Belial, dipping his monstrous tar-coated legs in the western sea like a paddling pool. He has his back to you - does he even know you're here? He must, he's the dreamwalker and you're the dreamer, but for all the interest he's showing you'd think he were here for some illustrated fish.

    Well. At least he's keeping to his word and not bothering you. Maybe you'll tune him out eventually.

    When you awaken you find that Abzu is as gracious a host in the morning as they were in the evening. Makram's gone - already teleported away, the shadowy wizard signs - but a far superior replacement awaits in the form of a fully-stocked breakfast buffet table.

    [How does eating work for you?] Abzu signs as you shift to bipedal form and sit down.

    "I don't understand the question." You shovel various meats onto your plate (the man who invented bacon deserves to be exalted to godhood) with a few poached eggs for good measure. The wizard doesn't take a seat with you. "You aren't eating?"

    [I don't need much.] [What I mean is, do your dietary requirements change between forms?] [Right now, do you have to eat enough for your larger form or your current one?]

    You pause, mid-bite. You never actually had to think about it, so it takes you a second. "N- yes it's by form. I've been to a few formal dinners in my human form. Rich mortals eat a lot but not enough to sate an adult dragon."

    [Then why use your true form at all?] The pure white eyes blink curiously. [If it's harder to keep yourself fed I mean.]

    "It feels more comfortable to be my real size," you reply, taking a moment to consume another disgusting forkful of bacon. "In this form, and especially in mortal guises, there's always this sense of... confinement. Like sucking in your gut. You train yourself out of it but it's easy to still think of yourself as big, if that makes sense. Like you're pretending and you just want to rip the mask off and roar at everyone so you can see them jump." You shrug. "And being gigantic is pretty fun."

    [I bet it is!]

    Abzu leaves you to eat your fill in silence, for lack of a better word, and you appreciate the quiet. You push your chair back with a satisfied sigh and pat your scaly tummy, rising and turning only to find Abzu waiting for you beside your bag. Harmless as a fly as they may be, it's still a little unnerving how quiet they are. They hold out their hand as you approach, offering you what appears to be a... blob.

    A black blob with blobby white eyes just like theirs, jiggling in place as it peers up at you.

    "... and this is?" you ask, almost at a loss for words.

    [A familiar!] Abzu replies. The blob makes high-pitched noises of agreement, something along the lines of 'mee-ma-mo!'. [Just a little one I can see and hear through.] [Not to spy on you or anything.] [What I mean is if you want to talk or visit or invite me over, just speak to it and I'll know!]

    "Ah." You cast another dubious eye at the blob. It makes a happy burbling noise. You refuse to let your demeanour crack in any unsightly ways.

    "I suppose I could find a place for it," you say eventually, holding out your hand. Abzu deposits it on your palm with a wet plop. It feels a bit like warm mud, and as you flex your claws experimentally it makes a noise that sounds an awful lot like ticklish giggling. You drop it in the open bag and it falls with a slightly startled 'woop-!'

    [Anyway, I'll let you go!] Abzu helpfully opens a portal to the cliffside by the tower door, skipping all the rigmarole with magic doors and automatons. [I'm sure you've got plenty of other stuff to do.] [Places to be.] [Boyfriends to meet~]

    "You stop that," you grumble, winding the strap of the bag around one talon again in preparation for the flight home. "And... thank you. For your hospitality."

    [My pleasure! Seeya!]

    Abzu waves. They're still waving even as you step through the portal into the morning sunlight, even as you glance back over your shoulder at them. At last, your resistance worn too far down, you sketch a half-hearted wave back.

    [<3] Abzu signs once last time before the portal closes, leaving you alone in the brisk high-altitude air.

    You sigh a deep, long, relieved sigh to be alone again. This has been altogether far too much work and honestly once you're home all you really want is to lie down and recover. But even you can't really defend going straight back to sleep in the middle of the day with all sorts of strange men squatting in your home so you suppose you should... engh, plan to keep one of them company in the afternoon once you're back.

    ... shit, Makram's had time to tell everyone about the map in his own Makram way by now.

    You sigh again. Fuck it. That's a problem for about six hours from now.

    [ ] Jun-ho. Your 'betrothed', whatever that means at the moment.
    [ ] Belial. The past-his-prime incubus that the map singled out over all others.
    [ ] Issachar. He's a slightly closer destination than your spire, and for whatever reason the map's singled him out too. Maybe the advice thing.
    [ ] Makram. No, you've had quite enough of him for now. Maybe tomorrow.
    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 16, 2018 at 9:59 AM, finished with 28 posts and 24 votes.
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    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 16, 2018 at 11:39 AM, finished with 38 posts and 34 votes.
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    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 16, 2018 at 10:59 PM, finished with 49 posts and 43 votes.
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    • Chapter Nineteen - This Is Nothing At All Like How Your Many Adolescent Fantasies Went
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    • You take off and retrace your flaps back to your spire, hoping to keep yourself occupied with another rousing rendition of One Hundred Bags Of Gold On The Wall. You're almost immediately sidetracked into thinking about what Makram must've said to the others about the map's true purpose. And wishing you'd asked Abzu to portal you back anyway but mostly that first one. How much worse can he honestly make it sound? He could sell it more overtly as some kind of sex thing? Or he could just explain it truthfully because honestly the way Abzu told it was enough to make you want to die all on its own.

    You swoop down and snag somebody's cow straight out of the field, ignoring the tiny mortal's faint screams of terror as you moodily bite it in half and start crunching. It does nothing to improve your mood and you drop the other half uneaten. You think you hear a family scream. Why does everything have to be so difficult? It really is just a perfect storm, isn't it? If you hadn't gone into town for some retail therapy you wouldn't have found that damn map and if you hadn't found that damn map you wouldn't have found that damn djinn and if you hadn't found that damn djinn you wouldn't have been convinced that damn map led to some damn treasure instead of more damned boyfriends! Just imagine how much simpler it could've been if you'd just had to deal with Jun-ho and nobody else!

    Okay so maybe Belial would've shown up eventually. And probably Issachar. And come to think of it with Makram's lamp already in your pile it was probably only a matter of time until you let him out but that's beside the point! It's all too much too fast and frankly you don't deserve it. But life isn't fair and you can't even stop over in Söfnun safely to buy things and loosen up because Mother's there now and also Makram made you blow up the heart of your wealth.

    Flying back really was a mistake. Part of you just wants to drop out of the sky and curl up and sleep wherever you land.

    ...

    ... one hundred bags of gold on the wall one hundred bags of gold, you hoard them jealously, kill someone for theirs, one hundred and one bags of gold on the wall...

    Several agonising hours later you reach more familiar territory, gliding along through the sadly fairly clear air. The storms have abated for a time and the lightning farmers are probably a mix of grateful for the break and anxious to get back to earning their livelihood again, but more importantly you're annoyed because you really could've used a nice fresh jolt right about now. While you're already looking down you spy one farm in particular, remote even compared to the others, just a single silver and copper spire in the backyard of a modest little house in an open rocky field. It's got to be Issachar's, it matches the description he gave. For just a moment you're tempted to set down and barge in on him, ask him for advice about how the fuck anyone should handle something like this, but in the end you press on. Right now you want to be home most of all, home with your gold where you can at least try to relax.

    You swoop around the comfortingly familiar spire of rock that you call yours and squeeze through the cave mouth, scales scraping and raking over the slightly-too-tight ring of stone as you worm your way inside and drop down to ground level. You stretch out with a relieved sigh, cracking open your eyes to find Jun-ho awaiting you.

    "Ah," you say, as if you didn't forget you had a guest for a second there, "there you are. All go well while I was away?"

    "Mhm. More or less. You went off treasure-hunting right?"

    "Engh. Yes. Intending to, at any rate." You wiggle your tail grumpily and flex your talons into the rough stone underfoot. "I take it Makram already filled you in?"

    "He said something about your map actually pointing at boyfriends but honestly I assumed he was making a joke," Jun-ho replies. "Was that actually real?"

    "Apparently! Yes!" you say, a little louder than you intended. "So that's... something I've been grappling with, past little while."

    "Yeah I can imagine," Jun-ho says, strangely erring more to the comforting and understanding side than scandalised that according to a magic map he's not the only one for you. You mean, granted it was arranged and the sparks weren't exactly flying at first sight and also you have no idea how it's meant to work but he could stand to not be so nice all the time. It's getting suspicious. "Meet anyone wherever it is you went?"

    "A wizard. Calls themselves Abzu." You pad over beside your treasure-pile and shake the bag wrapped around your talon free like a dead mouse. "Exceedingly friendly and energetic. You'd probably like them. They're only a teleport away so we'll likely be all seeing more of each other in the coming days."

    The bag falls and tips over, the blobby familiar spilling free with a high-pitched 'whoop!'. It gathers itself up and bounces in place, scanning the lair in every direction with those big white eyes. Once it catches sight of Jun-ho it pauses, then jiggles in place with a jubilant greeting-noise.

    "That's their familiar-"

    Jun-ho gasps with the kind of force you'd expect prior to releasing some elemental breath and wiggles forward, coming to a stop flat on his stomach in front of the familiar with wide eyes. "It's the cutest thing I've ever seen!" he exclaims.

    'Mee-ma-mo!' the familiar seems to agree.

    "Are we keeping it? Tell me we're keeping it!"

    "Y-yes we're keeping it," you answer haltingly, taken rather off-guard. "Like I said it's Abzu's familiar, they can see and hear through it so we can communicate if the need arises."

    You wait for follow-up questions. You receive none. Jun-ho is altogether absorbed by the blob, experimentally prodding the jiggling surface and grinning like an idiot at its weird, mumbling giggles. Clearly he has enough stimulus to occupy himself for the rest of the day so you decide to leave him to it, taking wing with a mumbled half-hearted excuse about needing to update Belial on the situation too. You leave the disgustingly twee noises of dragon and blob playing together behind and do another quick circuit of the spire's immediate surroundings, scanning for the splash of scarlet and black among all the pale greens and greys. You find it quickly.

    Perhaps picking this one to talk to out of everyone else is a bit ill-advised, but then again you kind of owe him a bit of one-on-one time at this point. He might start getting all jealous and thingy about it soon. And if anyone can give you advice regarding this dumb stupid boyfriend map it's probably the sexdemon. So you glide down and alight, gently as you can, behind the incubus sitting on the edge of the cliff.

    He looks up and over his shoulder, sketching a wave as he notices you. You shuffle forward and settle down in the grass, your massive bulk absolutely dwarfing him by comparison. This is good. This is nice. It's hard to feel intimidated by someone in any capacity when you could pick them up and eat them like an apple.

    "Hey," says Belial. "What's up?"

    "Not a lot," you reply. "Got back from a wizard tower. Confused and annoyed. Did Makram speak to you?"

    "Yeah he showed up this morning but I told him to fuck off so he did." Belial rests his hands in his lap and cranes his neck to meet your eye. "Why, was he s'posed to tell me something important?"

    "No no no, quite the opposite," you say. "He was doing his best to be a pain in the ass so I thank you for turning him away."

    "Hah, anytime." Belial fiddles with his bangs in the short silence, trying to hang the raven-black strands in such a way as to keep the wind from blowing them in his eyes too much. " 'ey, I know it's kind of a big ask considering you weren't expecting to entertain company so it's kind of a long shot, but I got to talking to Jun-ho about it while you were gone so I kinda gotta ask. Could you look into getting us a place to live at some point?"

    You blink, craning your long scaly neck around to get a better look at him. "Where's all this coming from?" you ask. "You freeload quite happily in my dreams and Jun-ho is a dragon, bare rock is quite fine for him."

    He shoots you a wry look. "Look I get it, you've lived alone for what, fifty years? It's easy to lose track of that stuff. But I got literally nothing to do all day every day right now and Jun-ho might be a dragon but his type isn't really s'posed to curl up on some rocks in the corner while you get all the comfy gold. You follow? And I bet it's not helping Makram's mood he has to float everywhere 'cause shit's all stone and cliffs and everything."

    You narrow your eyes. "You expect me to turn my lair into some kind of... 'halfway house'?" you sniff.

    He shrugs. "You wanna kick us all out?"

    You do a double-take, blinking as if struck on the nose. You- but- that's an unfair way to phrase it! You said nothing of the sort! Really, the nerve of some people, to speak so confrontationally. You should give him a piece of your mind. "N-no," you reply eventually. You think he gets the gist of the rebuke.

    "Then you should probably start dropping some lines for contractors," Belial says, running his talons through his hair with a soft sigh. Lacing them together behind his neck and stretching with a soft grunt. "Jun-ho says that was one of the things your mother was rambling about yeah? You kinda gotta do it sooner or later so, y'know."

    "Yeah yeah," you grumble. Silence falls for a moment, broken only by the crash of waves on the rocks below and the distant cries of gulls. You drum your boardinghook-sized talons on the thin grass. "You really aren't curious what he was going to tell you?"

    "Why, is it important?"

    "You seem very... disconnected, for an incubus that's supposedly contracted to seduce me," you say with a dubious look.

    "M'not- look it's not that I don't care," he says, letting his hands drop again, softly slapping on his bare thighs. He glances up at you. "It's that obviously I showed up at an overwhelming time and it's still overwhelming so I'm backing off. No sense in crowding, y'know?"

    He looks back out to see, his lips quirking up into a subtle half-smile.

    "It's kinda nice to be out and about in this plane anyway. Something about the air. Fresher, y'know?"

    "I wouldn't really," you admit. You follow his gaze and look out to see in kind, down to just one massive talon tap-tap-tapping away at the stone beneath the stubborn grass. "I... found out what the map really points to. Did I ever tell you about the-? Doesn't matter, I have to tell it again anyway. I have a map that I thought pointed to treasure but the wizard I met did proper analysis on it and said it points to..."

    There's an awkward, all-too-audible pause before you force out a semi-acceptable phrasing of it. "... to what I want."

    "Mm?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, paying attention without quite grasping your meaning. Not yet.

    "And... it must be faulty because instead of pointing at gold like it should it's pointing at... people," you say haltingly. "A certain type of people. Like the wizard in question. And Makram. And Jun-ho. And some guy I met while cleaning up my cave. And you."

    It takes him a second. You see the instant it connects, the incubus double-taking quick enough his hair whips free and dances in the wind once more. His ponytail slips off his shoulder and hangs low, more resistant to the coastal breeze - looks like it'd be waist-length if he let it all down. It really does look like a relic of the past, of a youth when it was more of an appropriate 'look' that he's never found the heart to get rid of. There's a certain look in his eyes as he meets your gaze, a half-squinting look that seems almost... suspicious that you're making it up. Trying to trick him for whatever reason. What's got him so jumpy? This is all about you, after all.

    "So it's pointing at people you wanna date?" Belial asks after a too-long pause. "How's it know about guys you've never even met yet?"

    "Abzu says it's about compatibility," you reply, lifting one foreclaw to wave vaguely. "Not that that mattered to Makram and now four of the five people on the map who I've met know and there's still five more to meet which is oddly quantifiable as far as potential romantic interests go and I'm feeling very..."

    You trail off, constantly searching for a suitable word and finding none.

    "Confused?" Belial prompts. "Overwhelmed?"

    You sigh and sink down low, resting your jaw on your crossed forelegs. "Close enough." Your nostrils flare in a huff. "It might not have been so bad had that stupid wizard not been so... so forward. Now you, you're one thing, you've been considerate and kept to yourself on the whole which is nice, but Abzu took appearing on the map as carte blanche to start talking about going on- on dates and acting all flirty."

    "Why'd talking about dates and getting flirty make you uncomfortable?" Belial asks.

    You look at him like he's grown another head. "Because... because I barely know them!"

    "You still stayed the night. Y'get up to anything?"

    You sputter. "That- I- of course not! To even- the implication! I did no such thing and- and- and furthermore I will not have you speak to me in such a frank manner ever again! Are we clear?"

    Belial just looks at you for a minute, easily holding eye contact with you even in your massive true form. Then he looks away, shuffles over about a foot, and pats the cliffside beside himself. "C'mon, sit up here."

    You look at him like he's grown yet another head and now guards the sexy underworld.

    "S'not like I'll bite." He pats the cliffside again. "This is the relationship advice part I mentioned before, so take it or leave it."

    You eye him dubiously. This is all very irregular and you'd have half a mind to take off and go sulk on your gold if it weren't for Jun-ho playing with Abzu's dumb little familiar in your lair and sundry. So, as grumpily as possible, you shift down to your bipedal form and shuffle over, sitting down on the cold stone cliffside beside the incubus with a heavy thump. Even with a generous bit of distance between your hips it's easy to see how he can be out in the cold and the wind with so little on, he's radiating heat like a fire. Probably runs as hot as Makram, if not more. In any case he keeps his hands in his lap and his eyes above the shoulder.

    "First I'm gonna ask you something," he says. "And I want you to just answer me honestly, no stumbling around and avoiding the question and trying to sidetrack things. It's really not helpful to either of us. Alright?"

    "I suppose," you say begrudgingly.

    "Are you a virgin?"

    You clamp your jaw shut like a steel trap, scaly lips curled into what must be a ridiculous frown of offence as your eyes go as wide as dinnerplates. You clasp your hands together in your lap so hard you can feel all the muscles in your arms bulging. For a minute it's like an entire committee's stood up in your head and all started trying to talk over each other in various strains of 'how dare you' and 'irrelevant to the case' and comebacks like 'are you' that run the gamut between unhelpful to just plain stupid. It goes on for quite a while and yet, through it all, Belial doesn't prompt you again. He just looks at you, his head cocked slightly, and waits patiently.

    "... (yes)," you say at last.

    His lips quirk up into a half-smile again, a soft snort of amusement escaping his nose.

    "It's not funny!" you snap practically the moment he makes a noise.

    "I'm not laughing at you," he says, relaxed as can be. "It's just the situation that's kinda funny. Gay and bi virgins were kind of my speciality back in the day so like, trust me. I've seen every single variant of it."

    You narrow your eyes at him. "Is this the part where you brag about the amount of virgins you've deflowered in the pursuit of whatever dark purpose a demon is sent to this plane to accomplish?"

    He shrugs. He's so sanguine about everything it's bordering on annoying. At least with Makram you can't feel bad about it because he instigates or hits back. Now you just feel all guilty. You fall silent and wait for the incubus to say something.

    "Guy's gotta eat," he says at last. "And virginity's a bullshit societal fabrication anyway, but that doesn't matter when it feels so real and how it feels matters more than anything else in my experience." He glances at you. "It's so easy to bite down the urge every time, isn't it? When you get that thought in your head that a guy's cute, or when you want to say he has a nice laugh, or when you just want to picture it all in your head. You tell yourself it doesn't matter because the first ten, twenty, thirty times it really doesn't feel like it does. But it sticks around, and it piles up, and it starts sticking together into one big ball of sour feelings that gets harder and harder to stomach but even harder to do anything about."

    You look away. The incubus is being utterly ridiculous, of course. Plenty of dragons take same-sex mates. It's allowed. It's accepted, even. And in the mortal world, in your own little playground of Söfnun, you're important. You're powerful. You're a dragon no matter what guise you take, acting like anything at all could stop you pursuing something you want is patently absurd.

    "You've been all jumpy and erratic 'cause some guys you know found out you might be attracted to them," Belial goes on, his voice deep and worn at the edges by age but soft and gentle all the same. "Doesn't that seem kinda silly?"

    "Yeah. Well. When you put it like that," you say half-heartedly.

    "The whole thing's kinda silly," he says, as if in agreement. "Sex is- heh, well it's a pretty big topic and I'm a bit of a biased viewpoint here so hey take this however you will, but... If you can tell yourself, honestly, that the reason you're a virgin is 'cause you wanna work it out with the person you know you wanna be serious with and you just haven't found 'em yet, then hey. That's your right and that's got its own beauty."

    You notice movement out of the corner of your eye. You think he's brushing his hair back behind his ear. He doesn't go on. The second half of that particular speech is hanging there in the air, as real as an apple dangling from the boughs of a tree, but he doesn't pick it. At best he's tugging at the base of the branch, bringing it down just far enough that you can reach if you try. A seagull lands beside him, scrutinising him haughtily with pale yellow eyes as if huffily demanding he relinquish the food he's so clearly hiding. He chuckles softly, gingerly shooing it away until it finally takes the hint and flaps off with a disgruntled squawk.

    "And if not?" you ask. "... hypothetically."

    "Hypothetically." He folds his hands in his lap and lets his head tip back, staring blankly up at the grey clouds above. You think it's starting to drizzle a bit. "With the guys I've seen in the past, it varies. Hah, sometimes all they wanted was a date, y'know? Just to have dinner or go see some sights and hold hands, maybe a kiss at the end. Romance and desire works for us just as much as lust and sex so, y'know, I was easy. Nothing cuter than a guy's smile when you gave him the first real date of his life and you know he's ready to go looking for more." He trails off for a moment, smiling to himself as he allows his mind to wander in memory. He seems to grow a little more sombre as he drags himself back to the present. "And there's the 'deflowering' as you put it, yeah. Sometimes that's the barrier to break. Sometimes that's what you need to realise that part of yourself you've been feeding scraps and keeping caged for so long doesn't have to be so scary, y'know? You can have some fun, get dressed in the morning, and still be the same person you were the night before. Maybe just a lil' wiser about how to do it without it hurting, hah."

    Another gull-cry, followed by another, higher-pitched squeak. The seagull is back and brought its child, a scraggly little grey ball of fluff and puff.

    "(oi, your ugly child won't make food magically appear, fuck off,)" he grumbles under his breath, flicking his talons at the pair. The parent nips him in retaliation. "(ow!)"

    You're not sure if it's just the release of tension or if you're just that easy to please, but you snort loud enough that even Belial seems a little startled. The seagull hops in place, as if only just now realising there's a dragon on this same cliffside, before scooping up its child in its beak and flapping away double-time. Now it's Belial's turn to join in, shoulders shaking slightly as he chuckles. You immediately look away again, remembering yourself all at once. Belial just squints up at the clouds again.

    "... you're not unlovable, y'know," he says at last. "It's a rare guy that is. I've seen 'em, and you aren't. You're just..."

    Lonely.

    Belial scritches just below his jaw, maybe scrubbing at some invisible stubble. "But s'all just my opinion. If you've got stuff that needs doing I'm good to chill here a while longer."

    But you don't. At the very least, not until tomorrow at minimum. And... and he's given you a lot to think about. You've been sitting so still on this cliffside so long you're starting to cramp up, it's terrible and you hate it but it's hard to even imagine getting up and leaving. Instead you open your mouth in a burst of impulsive energy and ask

    [ ] If he'd like to... show you how it's done.
    [ ] If he'd like to go on a date.
    Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 17, 2018 at 10:04 AM, finished with 1408 posts and 38 votes.
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