“I thank you Sir Fingol and Sir Indranil,” says Ulmar, “And all of you
for protecting my daughter Adelina, commonly called Newt, and I thank
you for your patience with her and ask you to please forgive her if
she ever had to mislead you. We taught her from an early age that she
must hide her true nature from others, lest it bring danger to her and
her family. For those who discover our nature have always either tried
to kill us, experiment on us, or control us so we could be used for
their own nefarious ends. You will understand more when I tell my
story.”

“My wife, Saeva, and I are originally from the Yeomanry League. We
grew up there outside the capital of Loftwick. My father was a freeman farmer and had even been elected on occasion as a representative to the Council of Common Grosspokesmen. Then, one day, our true nature was disovered by agents of the Scarlet Brotherhood. They tried to blackmail my father into becoming their agent, but when he refused and tried to reveal their plots he was killed. Fortunately, I discovered what was happening in time. I fled with my wife and daughter to Melkot, but they followed us even there. We finally lost them by entering the Hool Marshes. It was then that we stumbled upon these ruins. Newt remembers, though she was but a little girl at the time. Eventually we settled near the trading post of Cypress Hill and hoped that we would once more be left in peace and not forced to become anyone else’s agents or spies.”

“And what is that nature?” asks Adalwulf a bit impatiently.

“This!” says Ulmar as his skin ripples and transforms from that of a
human to that of gaunt, gray-skinned humanoid with long, gangly limbs
and a bulbous head with large, octopoid eyes. Its face is otherwise
blank and featureless. Ulmar then changes back into his human form.
“We are known as Double-Goers, or Doppelgangers.”

Newt involuntarily cringes as Ulmar changes. She can’t help it–it’s
just such a gross change from what she was always taught.

“By the light of Pholtus!” exclaims Adalwulf, stepping back and
grasping for his silvery sun disk. “And you say you are not creatures
of Chaos!?”

“We are not,” Ulmar says evenly.

Fingol puts his hand on Father Adalwulff’s arm, “Peace, Father, let him continue.”

Rain’s only reaction is to move up and put her arm around Newt. She says to Adalwulf “Good Father, are not humans capable of both selfless kindness and unimaginable horrors? I have seen both myself many times over with my meager 17 years of life. Why is it not possible for other races to be as such? I don’t think I will have a gnoll best friend anytime soon, but certainly most if not all races are capable of escaping their predisposed nature.”

“In the end, like Sir Indranil has said, what are we but the sum of our actions. Given that, I stand firmly behind my friend Newt and thus her family. I would like to humbly suggest get to know them before entering a final judgment.”

Indranil grinds his teeth and his hand strays close to the pommel of his sword, but then he takes a deep breath and calms himself, he thinks of the Green Elysian Fields and his patron Ehlenestra. His features resume a calm detached manner as he relaxes. He will let this play out undisturbed for adding now would only inflame the situation.

“Good Father,” says Aramek, “I believe you have now known me and and Sir Fingol long enough to trust us and our honest intentions. While I cannot presume to speak for Sir Fingol, I can tell you that I have absolutely no reservations in my trust and admiration for Newt. And it’s certainly because of her parents that she’s become such a fine person.

“Please open your heart and hold your dogma at bay. By now you know that things are often not what they seem. In this case it happens to apply to a good situation. We would not have made it this far without Newt’s help.”

“I apologize, Goodman Ulmar. It is not the teaching of Pholtus to
prejudge anyone, though I must say that it is his teaching to beware
the forces of both Evil and Chaos. I’ll be silent until I have heard
all.”

Ulmar smiles and continues, “Thank you Father Adalwulf, and again I
thank you all for the trust and care you have given already to Newt
and I. As you know, the Amedi who served the Scarlet Brotherhood fled
into the Hool Marshes when King Skotti invaded. In the marshes they
found those Amedi who had already come to Thracia long ago and revived
the worship of the ancient god of death named Thanatos. Patriarch
Tavasmok recruited all the Amedi he could and sent them back out to
make war on all who would not bow down to Thanatos, whom they called
the Dark One. Eventually they raided Cypress Hill. Saeva and I were
visiting with Newt at the time they struck. We hid Newt away and then
took on the forms of the Deathwalkers. We were soon discovered for we
did not have the time to become anyone they knew. When they questioned
us they realized that our mastery of Amedi was not yet perfect. They
took us back to their base, a shrine in the depths of marshes. There
was a high ranking cleric there who had us sent back here to Thracia
to come before Patriarch Tavasmok. Tavasmok soon divined our nature
and like so many who learn our secret he wanted to use our abilities
against his enemies. He imprisoned Saeva in a storeroom in the villa
and bound her with wards that would be triggered by any Doppelganger
who crossed them. He then set his undead to guard her. With Saeva as
his hostage, I had no choice but to become his spy among the
beast-men. The Deathwalkers captured some gnolls and I used my talents
to discover his name and secrets, then I took on his form and the
Deathwalkers killed him and his companions. I went among the beast-men
but soon found a way to switch over to the lizardfolk, for they were
not the creatures of Chaos and Evil that the gnolls and minotaurs are.
However, as I told Drago earlier, I do believe that their leader,
Shaman G’ruk is indeed leading the lizardfolk down an evil path. In
any case, this morning I heard that in the palace of King Stronghoen,
the ruler of the beast-men who resides in the underground city of
Huvat Vex, there was a lizardman warrior who had come to Thracia with
Keolanders. I knew I must seek him out and discover if he or his
former companions knew anything about Cypress Hill and whether there
were any survivors, for I imagined they had come in response to that
raid or other attacks by the Deathwalkers. That is when I found Drago.
He was not exactly imprisoned in the chambers beneath the palace, but
in fact he had become a special “guest” of King Stronghoen and had
been placed under the watchful eye of King Stronghoen’s servants. I
visited Drago in the form of King Stronghoen’s major-domo, a
dog-brother named Bitterbark. Using Bitterbark’s form I was able to
speak with Drago and lead him out of the palace and back to the
surface. I already knew that the Keolander’s and dwarves from Melkot
had been found and trapped within the Deathwalker caverns. Drago had
told me already that Newt was with you all, so we hastened to see if
we could rescue you. Then we heard, through a chimney in the caverns,
Newt cry out when she fell. We grew more desperate, or I grew more
desperate to get into the caverns to save her. Perhaps I should let
Drago explain the rest. But I believe Newt was asked a question.”

“Oh, and I should tell you that after freeing Drago, he and I also
freed a Deathwalker who had been condemned to death and was to be
roasted alive in the palace. We freed him because we did not wish to
leave him to such a horrific death, but also we needed to send someone to the villa to warn them that King Stronghoen was intent on gathering all the local gnoll tribes to sweep away all the Deathwalkers. I hope I did not make a mistake, but I judged that if the villa was overrun then Saeva would also be killed. I am sure Drago has more to say about this because he was in the throne room when King Stronghoen gave his order. But I believe Newt would like to ask a question.”

Newt nods (thinking ‘Ah! Now I see. I had wondered how that happened.’) as Ulmar describes how they were discovered.

Father Adulwulf says, “I apologize, Goodman Ulmar. It is not the teaching of Pholtus to prejudge anyone, though I must say that it is his teaching to beware the forces of both Evil and Chaos. I’ll be silent until I have heard all.”

Ulmar smiles and continues, “Thank you Father Adalwulf, and again I
thank you all for the trust and care you have given already to Newt
and I. As you know, the Amedi who served the Scarlet Brotherhood fled into the Hool Marshes when King Skotti invaded. In the marshes they found those Amedi who had already come to Thracia long ago and revived the worship of the ancient god of death named Thanatos. Patriarch Tavasmok recruited all the Amedi he could and sent them back out to make war on all who would not bow down to Thanatos, whom they called the Dark One. Eventually they raided Cypress Hill. Saeva and I were visiting with Newt at the time they struck. We hid Newt away and then took on the forms of the Deathwalkers. We were soon discovered for we did not have the time to become anyone they knew. When they questioned us they realized that our mastery of Amedi was not yet perfect. They took us back to their base, a shrine in the depths of marshes. There was a high ranking cleric there who had us sent back here to Thracia to come before Patriarch Tavasmok. Tavasmok soon divined our nature and like so many who learn our secret he wanted to use our abilities against his enemies. He imprisoned Saeva in a storeroom in the villa and bound her with wards that would be triggered by any Doppelganger who crossed them. He then set his undead to guard her. With Saeva as his hostage, I had no choice but to become his spy among the beast-men. The Deathwalkers captured some gnolls and I used my talents to discover his name and secrets, then I took on his form and the Deathwalkers killed him and his companions. I went among the beast-men but soon found a way to switch over to the lizardfolk, for they were not the creatures of Chaos and Evil that the gnolls and minotaurs are.
However, as I told Drago earlier, I do believe that their leader,
Shaman G’ruk is indeed leading the lizardfolk down an evil path. In
any case, this morning I heard that in the palace of King Stronghoen,
the ruler of the beast-men who resides in the underground city of
Huvat Vex, there was a lizardman warrior who had come to Thracia with Keolanders. I knew I must seek him out and discover if he or his
former companions knew anything about Cypress Hill and whether there were any survivors, for I imagined they had come in response to that raid or other attacks by the Deathwalkers. That is when I found Drago. He was not exactly imprisoned in the chambers beneath the palace, but in fact he had become a special “guest” of King Stronghoen and had been placed under the watchful eye of King Stronghoen’s servants. I visited Drago in the form of King Stronghoen’s major-domo, a dog-brother named Bitterbark. Using Bitterbark’s form I was able to speak with Drago and lead him out of the palace and back to the surface. I already knew that the Keolander’s and dwarves from Melkot had been found and trapped within the Deathwalker caverns. Drago had told me already that Newt was with you all, so we hastened to see if we could rescue you. Then we heard, through a chimney in the caverns, Newt cry out when she fell. We grew more desperate, or I grew more desperate to get into the caverns to save her. Perhaps I should let Drago explain the rest. But I believe Newt was asked a question.”

Newt says, “Well, I was listening to G’ruk, the chief and shaman to
the rogue Malarat. When he heard Drago had made friends with King
Stronghoen (I don’t think G’ruk knew the whole situation), he took
three warriors with him saying they would find and awaken the Immortal King. I got the impression this might be some reptilian deity. I also got the impression that G’ruk thinks this Immortal King will be on his side and will sweep all his enemies out of his way.

“Drago, I’m sorry to put you on the spot like this, but you later said
we didn’t need to go after G’ruk right then. Of course, Indranil might
have needed help at the time, but otherwise why did you say that?”

Morning, Readying 20, 591

Later that morning, Igusadon comes over to Drago and says, “Are you ready to see Huvat Vex, City of Eternal Light?”

Drago energetically jumps up and says, “Yes!”

“Come with me then. Bring your gear. You might have a chance to spar down there with your new sword and shield.”

Igusadon then leads Drago back up to the gnoll guardroom and then to the large rat filled rubble strewn cavern. This time they move deeper into the cavern. Igusadon takes the hood off of an ever-burning torch so they can see. They weave through stalagmites for about 100’ or more and then come to a short stair leading up ten feet. Two Thracian style pillars flank each side of the top of the stairs. Behind the pillars are four gnoll guards and beyond another cavern with a sandy floor. Once again Igusadon gives the password in Common, “[password deleted]” One of the gnolls responds, “Go then into the dark and find the light.”

A well worn track through the sand leads through a cavern 25’ wide by 30’ long and then opens up into a much larger cavern, at least as larger if not larger than the one at the bottom of the stairs. In the dim recesses of the cave to Drago’s left he sees a marble alcove with frescoes and in the center of it a marble sculpture of a man, though he cannot discern the details. What really draws Drago’s attention is the grand marble temple taking up the center of the cavern. It looks to be at least 60’ long and 40’ wide. The lengthwise section of the temple stretches off to Drago’s right. Ahead of him are a set of stairs leading ten feet up into the entrance to the temple. The base of the temple is made of the bedrock of the caves. Around the outside are large sculpture panels with scenes depicting the Thracian deities in combat with demons and sea monsters.

“Follow me closely,” Igusadon says. “There are pit traps all around here under the sand. We know there is one to your left there. There may be others that have not been found, left by the original builders. So be wary and don’t leave the track.”

Igusadon leads Drago to the stairs and then into the temple. Drago sees that the temple has large columns with scroll work in the Ionic design. Huge white marble lintels span across the ceiling, which is a massive piece of marble in a trapezoidal shape. High above carvings of owls and lions are shown chasing each other in a playful fashion.

At the far end of the temple is a ten foot tall statue of a regal woman in long, loose clothing. She bears a shield and spear and is armored with a helm. Igusadon leads Drago down the center of the temple to stand before this goddess. As they do, Drago sees more gnoll guards watching them from the shadows behind the pillars.

“Do not be alarmed,” Igusadon says to Drago in a low voice. “Soon, we will be in Huvat Vex, the City of Eternal Light.”

After standing before the statue for about six seconds Drago suddenly finds himself standing on a circular slab of marble roughly 40’ in diameter in an outdoor clearing surrounded by trees that are somehow growing fist-sized strawberries. Looking down at his feet, Drago sees that he and Igusadon are standing on a 10’ by 10’ checkered section in the middle of the marble slab.

“Quickly, step off the pattern,” says Igusadon. “If you stand in the patterned square for six seconds you will be transported to the statue in the cavern above, and likewise by standing before that statue for six seconds we were able to come here.

He leads Drago to the edge of the slab. Drago now sees that there are six gnolls in the immediate area. They glance up briefly at the two lizardfolk but otherwise ignore them. Two of the gnolls are picking fruit while the other four maintain a watch in the shadows of the trees. The gnolls are armed with longbows and halberds bearing standards with the large face of an enraged bull.

“Come this way,” says Igusadon. “I will show you the glory of Huvat Vex.”

Igusadon leads Drago off the slab of marble and through the strange orchard. Drago gets the strange feeling that the trees themselves are watching them. Then they come out from under the cover of the trees and Drago finds that they are on a plateau roughly 100’ high over an immense stone city that surrounds it. After walking for at least half a mile they come to a rocky ramp that winds down the gentle gradient of the plateau down to the city below. The whole of it, city and plateau are in an immense circular cavern, five miles in diameter. The walls, ceiling and floor of the cavern is rough hewn with immense stalactites hanging from the ceiling. Only near the rough walls hanging up to 100 feet in height, do stalagmites form.

An eternal light, an orb of arcane magical energy, provides and intense and powerful luminosity that almost equals sunlight. However, the orb unlike the sun is blue and creates an unusual hue to those beneath its rays.

The entire cavern is humid and very warm, much like the Hool Marshes in summer time. Off to the right, Drago sees a dark and murky lake that covers three acres and feeds a canal that forms a square perimeter surrounding the city before returning to the lake. This must be the source of the moisture in the cavern.

The low lying one story buildings composing the city seem to be made of stone blocks measuring 10 feet square. Age and moisture have removed all wood, cloth, and animal matter, but the stone city seems eerily preserved, as if it has been suddenly abandoned.

The center of the city, at least the center of that side of it at the bottom of the ramp, is a large rectangular cobblestone plaza encompassing an entire acre. At one end of the plaza to the left of the foot of the ramp is a large domed structure, and at the other end on the right is a large two story civic building. Beyond that building can be seen a large flat roofed building with over ten columns and no walls.

At the end of the plaza opposite the ramp is a ten layered ziggurat of red granite. At the top, which is even with the plateau, are four carven pillars that support a pyramidal roof. Hanging from the ceiling in the space between the pillars are chains and shackles carved from an orange stone. Drago can see the pyramidal tips of two other ziggurats rising above the level of the plateau to his right and left. The one to his right is of blue turquoise, while the one to his left is golden. Behind him is the orchard, so Drago cannot see if there is one in that direction.

“There is indeed another ziggurat,” says Igusadon, guessing what Drago is looking for. “There is a ziggurat for each of the cardinal directions. Before us, the ziggurat of red granite is the Ziggurat of the People. The blue turquoise ziggurat to the south is the Ziggurat of the Moon. In the west is the black obidian Ziggurat of the Earth. To the north is the golden Ziggurat of the Sun. There are stairways to the tops on the eastern sides of the ziggurats. I will show them to you later if time permits, though we must be circumspect. King Stronghoen has not yet permitted anyone to settle in the city, or to meddle with anything below. Still, we have looked, and it is clear that this city was built by none other than the Immortal King.”

“Now come, let us go to the palace.” Igusadon turns Drago away from the ramp and leads him back towards the orchard.

Drago contemplates what he has learned and asks, “What makes you believe the Immortal King built Huvat Vex?” knowing full well the humans believe the same thing.

“Let us not speak of it now. If I can, I will show you things later that will convince you.”

Drago sees that besides the orchard of fruit trees there is a grove of towering oaks in the center of the plateau. They pass the fruit trees surrounding the marble slab. Not far from it, Dargo sees a ten foot diameter clear crystal tube bubbling with water rising up from the ground all the way up into the mists of the ceiling where it disappears from view. They continue on through the grove and Drago sees that there are also ash, maple, willow, and elm trees in addition to the oaks. After a little more than a quarter mile they come to a solid wall of composed of strange twisted trees with dagger like thorns. The trees are about ten feet tall and extending 50 yards in both directions away from a small temple that Igusadon steers them towards.

“The wall is no barrier to us,” Igusadon explains. “It was put there by Shaman G’ruk as part of his bargain with King Stronghoen. Those who do not belong here will find themselves impaled by those trees, but the trees will part for us and for King Stronghoen and his people. Still, let us go through the temple.”

Igusadon waves to a gnoll armed with a short bow hiding in the branches of a tree to their right. He waves them on.

The small temple is made of white marble. It is similar in design to the temple in the cavern from which they came. There is a ten foot long stair on each side that goes up five feet to a building that is 20’ on each side with a roof 15’ overhead supported by massive columns. In the center of the temple is a five-foot diameter well. Looking in as they pass by it, Drago sees that there is water about 15’ below the lip of the well. Within the temple, Drago sees two lizardfolk warriors, another gnoll, and a shaggy humanoid behemoth with the horns of a bull and armed with an enormous double bladed axe. Drago realizes that the latter is a minotaur. The lizardfolk nod at
Drago and Igusadon, while the minotaur and gnoll simply scrutinize them silently as they pass by.

Coming out of the temple and down the steps on the other side, Drago is greeted with two magnificent sites. To his left is an enormous oak tree with patchy bark. The hoary oak looks as though it could easily be over a thousand years old. Surround the giant oak is a 12-foot high stone wall topped with outward pointing spikes and shards of glass. Inside the wall surrounding the tree, a middle-aged woman with graying hair can be seen sunning herself on the lawn. Lying down next to her is a giant lizard the size of a horse with golden scales whose color seems to have lost their luster. She waves to Drago and Igusadon.

“Ignore her,” counsels Igusadon. “She is a dryad and is not our concern. That is our destination ahead, the palace of King Stronghoen.”

The gleaming white marble palace straight ahead of them is a perfectly preserved example of Thracian architecture with gabled roofs, Doric columns and sculptured pediments fashioned of flawless white marble. Statuary depicting human heroes and gods are prominently displayed. Most of the original furnishings have been destroyed or decayed through time and use, but the structure itself is as strong as the day it was built. Flying overhead are five feral looking women with  tattered wings and sharp claws. They screech and spit at the two lizardfolk and then land on the roof on the southeastern roof of the palace to bicker among each other.

“Ignore them,” says Igusadon. “This way,” he says, leading Drago to the courtyard.

The vast courtyard of the palace is tiled in large white marble panels. Flanking the wide staircase leading to the palace itself are two large 10-foot deep pools. The stairs are of similar marble as the tiled floor, and rise 10 feet to the actual palace.

“Now be very careful here, the next guardian is a bit temperamental and not yet used to us lizardfolk. Don’t make any sudden moves, but get your shield in position and be ready to draw your sword in case things don’t go well.”

As Igusadon says this, five huge snake heads rear up out of the pool on their right. Then Drago sees that all five are joined together into one creature. Embedded between the eyes of its central head is a black-star sapphire. The hydra steps out of the pool and its five heads hiss and snap at them.

Drago holds steady. The five heads of the hydra scrutinize the two lizardfolk for a long breathless moment, and then they snort in unison and turn away. The scaly behemoth submerges itself back into the depths of the pool, leaving only its five pairs of eyes watching them from the surface. Igusadon looks visibly relieved and beckons Drago to follow him up the steps into the palace.

The stairs lead up to a portico and beyond that a temple hall 100’ long and 50’ wide, it is roofed but otherwise open to the portico and courtyard. The stonework and statuary in this airy hall are ornately carved and richly decorated with scenes of battle, magic, and the lives of the (human) gods. A massive statue of a bearded, heavily muscled man grasping a pair of crossed thunderbolts in his right hand stands in the western end of the hall (opposite the stairs leading down to the courtyard). The throne the statue sits upon looks as if it is made of solid gold. Halfway down the hall there are double doors to the north and south that also appear to be constructed of gold.

Igusadon leads Drago down the hall and past the doors to approach the  statue. When they come within 20’ of it the sound of thunder is suddenly heard in the distance. “Nice eh?” asks Igusadon with a toothy grin. “The  humans who made this place put a permanent spell upon it. Go ahead, touch  the throne and see what happens.”

A little nervous, Drago walks forward to touch the throne as instructed. Igusadon chuckles and slaps him on the back after he recoils from the electric shock he receives from touching the chair. “Another little trick the humans left. We like to show this to all the newcomers don’t here, so don’t take it amiss. Anyway, let’s go. It is time you meet King Stronghoen.”

Drago smiles sheepishly in return and follows Igusadon without further comment. He is looking forward to meeting this king of Thracia and Huvat Vex.

Evening, Readying 19

Here Drago and his new comrades enjoy a sumptuous feast of dead Deathwalker. Yummy. Drago learns about the nature of magic amongst his people and a jaw dropping revelation about his destiny, if he lives so long.

That evening a great feast is had. Drago sees Trakoadon and some other warriors that Drago knows are sitting together speaking. Igusadon, Iguanosuth, Kopusuth and the others are sitting in another group. The rest of the lizardfolk are from different clans and so Drago does not recognize them.

Drago has met Trakoadon before (the first one he met) and the others, he knows by face but not name.

Drago looks around the room and breathes deep the delicious aroma of fresh meat. He walks over to Igusadon, Iguanosuth and Kopusuth and says, “Greetings great warriors. May I join you?”

As he sits, Drago is handed a spit of roasted Deathwalker. Lizardfolk females soon bring him a large banana leaf with rice and fish and some roots and spices. The lizardfolk diet is pretty simple however, and mostly carnivorous.

Igusadon says to him, “You well deserve this share of the meat. You did well out there. I am glad that more lizardfolk, such as you, are joining us everyday, awakening to our true destiny. Emissaries have even been sent out to other tribes, to gather all who will listen. Soon we will find the Immortal King and will have no need of those giggling fools the gnolls or their bone-headed master King Stronghoen. Then we will leave these caves and rule all under the sun once more.”

“Thank you, Igusadon, it’s always a pleasure to kill Deathwalkers,” replies Drago as he slurps on the meat. “May I ask how many lizardfolk have joined our glorious cause to find the Immortal King?”

Igusadon thinks a moment and then says, “We have maybe twelve hands of warriors,” by which he means 60, “though most of them are down below in Huvat Vex acting as mercenary guards for King Stronghoen. I have no doubt that you’ll eventually have to take your
turn down there as well.”

Drago grunts agreement, farts, and then says, “Good. I came to seek the Immortal King.” After a brief pause Drago adds, “So what kind of reptile do YOU think he is?” Leaning forward, “I believe he is a Copper Dragon. Any sign of dragons down there?”

Igusadon and the others are a bit taken aback by this. Then Kopusuth speaks up, “I am afraid you are thinking too small Drago. You are undoubtedly thinking of your illustrious ancestor, Kopep. He is no doubt an adult dragon by now, hundreds of years old. But the Immortal King we seek was the ruler of a lizardfolk empire thousands of years in the past. If Shaman G’ruk’s dreams are true, the Immortal King has found a way to sleep through the ages so that he can return to us when the stars are right. As it has been said by some human lore masters, ‘That is not dead which can eternal lie/and with strange eons even death may die.’”

Drago murmurs thoughtfully to himself, “Perhaps he is Kopep’s grandfather? Hmmm…” He seems to tune out for a moment, then focuses again on Igusadon’s words, “So the Immortal King is a giant lizardfolk? Or some ancestral lizard kind?” Drago stops, blushes and says, “Yes, I think too much.”

Kopusuth shrugs, “Shaman G’ruk has only told us that the Immortal King was the greatest of the lizardfolk in the time before the rise of the mammalian hordes. He was no dragon, but one of us. So yes, I suppose you could say he is a great ancestor.”

Drago belches, shrugs and replies, “Kopep lived amongst our people as one of us. He was not in the form of a dragon when he did so. He was lizardfolk.  He is one of us. He is my flesh and bones.” After a brief pause, Drago leans forward again, “Anyway, tribal lore says that Kopep came from around here somewhere, just like the Immortal King. Any signs of dragons down in Huvat  Vex?”

Kopusuth shakes his head in the negative, “No, we have seen no sign of any dragons. I think that is a good thing. They are very unpredictable and their ways are unfathomable.”

Drago nods his head, then after a moment says looking at Kopusuth, “On a different subject, I am curious about the nature of magic amongst our people. I wasn’t interested in such things when I lived with the Malarat, but now… well, things have changed.”

Kopusuth laughs and then says, “You are still among the Malarat – among the smart ones – and not the toadies who stayed to lick the behinds of the unscaled. But yes, I will gladly tell you of our magical traditions.”

Kopusuth then proceeds to tell Drago about how the shamans of the lizardfolk are not all the same. Some come by their power through dreams and natural talent. Shaman G’ruk is a shaman like this, able to draw upon both the divine and arcane powers of the multiverse. Others, like Drago, are born to arcane magic. Among the lizardfolk, this is usually due to dragons like Kopep coming to mate with lizardfolk females, though there are other heritages that are more sinister in nature, as devils and demons have sometimes come among them as well to corrupt them. Finally, there are those who gain their power solely through prayer to Semuanya the patron god of the lizardfolk; or, in Kopusuth’s own case, communion with the spirits of the natural world.

Drago laughs as well, “Thank you Shaman Kopusuth. Have you noticed any other copper spotted descendents among the ‘smart ones’ gathered in Thracia?”

Kopusuth says, “No, there are not. In fact, Drago, you are the only hatchling in this generation to show signs of Kopep’s legacy. If you continue to grow into your power then Shaman G’ruk will have no choice but to acknowledge you as his successor. It is the way of our people. Of course it is also the way of our people that you could challenge him at any time in a contest of either riddles or power, but I would not recommend that – at least not until such time as you have imbibed all our lore from Shaman G’ruk, plumbed the wisdom of the Malarat, and become certain of your own power. Even then, until you receive dreams from the Immortal King, you will not be able to lead us to our rightful destiny.”

Drago’s jaw drops open, speechless. He tries to speak but only stutters. Finally he composes himself and says simply, “Oh crap.”

Here ends volume 5 of “Against the Scarlet Sign.“

Readying 18, Drago meets with Shaman G’ruk

Beware! Mammalian player characters should not read further! Trespassers will be ripped to shreds and eaten by lizardfolk.

Without a word, Drago relinquishes his weapons and bandoleers, knowing he is not without tricks if things go awry. He continues to watch for tell tale copper markings. Trakoadon ushers him into the tent and then leaves. The tent is large, dark, and smells of death and disease. In a shadowy corner Shaman G’ruk sits, performing some kind of ablutions. After a moment he looks to Drago.

“They tell me you came with a human expedition. That Chief Rahk had formed an alliance with them against the Deathwalkers but that you left.” G’ruk pauses and then continues, “I went down Hool River once when I was a hatchling. There’s a place in the river… I can’t remember… Must have been a gardenia plantation at one time. All wild and overgrown now, but about five miles you’d think that heaven just fell on the earth in the form of  gardenias…” He trails off and then continues rambling again, “Have you ever considered any real freedoms? Freedoms – from the opinions of others… Even the opinions of yourself. They say why…, Drago, why did the elders want to remove me as tribal shaman?”

Drago bobs his head respectfully, “Greetings brother G’ruk. Yes, it is as you say. The tribal elders spoke of removing you as tribal shaman when you divided the tribe with talk of raising the Immortal King from his deep sleep in the hopes of killing all that is not scaley.”

G’ruk hisses in annoyance, “That is ‘Shaman G’ruk’ or ‘Elder G’ruk’ to you, little hatchling. Remember to show respect to your elders. So, do you think my methods are unsound?”

Bowing his head, Drago replies, “Once upon a time, Shaman G’ruk, I thought your methods extreme, but now… my time with mammals left a foul taste in my mouth.”

“Ah, so you have seen the error of your ways, or rather the ways of Chief Rahk and the elders. Tell me, did Chief Rahk send you simply to help the Keolanders fight the Deathwalkers or did he send you out here to find me? Are you an assassin?”

G’ruk moves a little out of the shadows, and Drago sees that he grown larger, bloated even. It is as though he has for some time been engorging himself on the flesh and blood of his enemies down here in the darkness by the underground river flowing beneath the lost city of the death god Thanatos.

“No, Elder G’ruk, I am no assassin,” replies Drago. “However, Chief Rahk asked me to keep an eye out for you to extend his invitation and welcome for you to return home with our kinsmen.”

Now that Drago can see G’ruk clearly, he looks for copper markings on his fat body. However he sees no sign of any copper scales on G’ruk.

G’ruk says, “Well then, I welcome you to our camp. I was told you brought supplies with you, potions of healing and things that can be used against the undead. That would be useful to us. I trust you will put those at the service of the tribe. Now, tell me, how many were in your expedition and where are the Keolanders now?”

“Of course, Elder Shaman, all that I have and all that I am intends to serve the King of the City of Eternal Light and our people. As for the expedition, there are only a handful of Keolanders in the southwest quadrant of the city. However they are expecting twenty dwarves as back up from Melkot to arrive this evening. While I cannot speak for the dwarves whom I have not yet met, amongst the Keolanders there is only one who is the enemy of all reptiles. His name is Indranil and he is their wretched half breed warlord. Cursed be his name for all eternity! As long as he lives, no reptile is safe. If he is dead, however, I can bring the others over to our side as allies. The others are all friends of the Malarat and will listen to me. They may be useful yet and they are my friends.”

G’ruk chortles a bit when Drago mentions the “City of Eternal Light” and then hisses when the dwarves are mentioned. He hisses even louder and thumps his tale in disgust when Drago talks of the rest of his former companions, aside from Indranil, as allies and friends.

“We have no friends or allies among non-reptilians. They will all betray us in the end. They know that either they or we must be the masters of this world! As for those hairy beasts the gnolls and their ‘City of Eternal Light’,” he sneers as he says this, “We are using them just as surely as they believe they are using us. But it is purely a temporary alliance of convencience.  The so-called King of the City of Eternal Light is actually the king of the descendants of beast-men slaves who served the humans ancestors of these Deathwalkers. They live in a vast cavern magically heated and illuminated far below us. But that cavern was originally known as Huvat Vex. It was the pinnacle of reptilian culture and arcane lore when lizardfolk ruled this world! Mark me, we will reclaim it as soon as we find and awaken the Immortal King. Until then, we will serve their King Stronghoen as hunters and guards. By doing so we gain access to Huvat Vex and relearn its secrets.

“Now, I am going to make this clear. I will not be rejoining Chief Rahk or the rest of Malarat except in triumph at the side of the Immortal King. There will be no alliances with any humans whatsoever for they are destined to once more take their rightful place as the slaves of the lizardfolk. If you are  sincere in joining our cause then you will go out now with our trackers and show them exactly where these former companions of yours are hiding. We cannot allow the Keolanders or their dwarven allies to establish themselves here. They must certainly be kept away from the entrance to these caverns. King Stronghoen will also have to be told about this. Will you lead us to their camp and prove your loyalty to our cause?”

Drago shrugs. “Oh, it sounded to me like the King of the City of Eternal Light was referring to our Immortal King. I see now that I was mistaken. It is to Kopep, the Immortal King, the true and rightful king of Thracia, to whom I owe my life and powers, both body and soul. The Keolanders strive to bring disharmony between Gnolls and Deathwalkers. We are better served by letting the mammals thin their herds above while we seek the Immortal King below. Their silly games will keep them occupied for some time. They are much too cautious to simply storm the Thracian underworld. We can kill them later if they get in our way.” Drago keeps a respectful tone of voice, but knows he is risking his life to save his friends.

(Fade out for flashback scene as Drago reflects):

Sedara says, “The Prince’s scribes have not been able to translate the tomes that you found in full. They seem to be written in a strange dialect of Ancient Suloise. From what they have translated, one is a detailed history of the founding of the city of Thracia by colonists who came from the Suel Imperium prior to the catastrophic war with the Baklunish Empire. Another discusses the rise of the cult of Thanatos in that city written by a priest of Thanatos. The third tome describes how the Suel Imperium experimented in creating slave-races out of beasts using sorcery and alchemy.

“The scribes made copies of certain passages that they thought might be of particular interest to you. I have them here.” Sedara produces a scroll that she unrolls on the table before her. The translated passages are in Keolandish, with the originals in Ancient Suloise copied above the translation. “This first passage is from the first tome relating the history of  Thracia.” Sedara proceeds to read from the scroll.

“In the year 2106 of the Suloise Dating [Scribe’s note: -3409 Common Year], the Warlord Thrax discovered a pass through the Hellfurnaces. [Scribe’s question: Could this have been what later came to be known as Slerotonin’s Passage?] Thrax discovered a fertile land inhabited by a people who called themselves the Flan as well as the usually benevolent demi-humans such as the elves, dwarves, halflings, and others, but also the malevolent orcs, goblinoids, and beastmen. The Flan are a strong people, bronze of hue, with dark hair and eyes. [Scribe’s note: the passage goes on to describe the Flan civilization at that time, which seems to have been more extensive than what is left today after the Great Migrations.]

“Thrax and his band finally settled at a small village nestled between a cliff face and the beginnings of a vast swamp. [Scribe’s note: the description seems to indicate the Hool Marshes and the Tors.] Within a few years the colonists under Warlord Thrax had turned the village into a walled city and had begun conquering the surrounding Flan city-states. From this remote and hidden base on the other side of the Hellfurnaces, Warlord Thrax no longer feared that his enemies back in the Suel Imperium would find him or interfere with his plans. He also did not need to fear that his plans would be interfered with by the neighboring Flan kingdoms until he was sure his band of adventurers and his small army of Suel warriors were ready to overcome any and all opposition to their ambitions. In time, he declared himself a king, King Thrax I and the kingdom of Thracia was born.

“The Thracian capital was in many respects anomalous among the early cities of humankind. It grew and thrived amidst dank wetland and fetid swamp. Their small parcels of farmland proved to be supernaturally abundant, even sufficient to support a teeming metropolis in time. Even after King Thrax and his heirs had conquered far lands with better climes, the Thracian rulers and people did not migrate from their home. Obviously this was the result of the favor of the gods for King Thrax and his fellow Suel colonists.

“The jealous Flan, however, whispered the slander that in ages past an immortal king of some pre-human empire had ruled from an underground city of ziggurats in a giant cavern. This city was called Huvat Vex and it was located beneath the site of the present city of Thracia. From Huvat Vex the Immortal King ruled the surface world, enslaving the Flan and subjecting them to atrocities that are still remembered in their tales and songs. They even whisper that the Immortal King may still be  immured in deep caverns awaiting a time to awaken and restore his rule. It was the residual magic of that ancient empire that was the real reason for the success of the Thracians, so whispered the Flan nations and those subject to the Thracians. Such old wives’ tales aside, the fact of Thracian dominance in the world is incontestable.”

At the mention of the Immortal King, Drago looks up and around at the others.

Sedara continues, “In time, the drive to conquer gradually gave way to the joys of civilization. Conquest brought wealth and then peace, and with these came architectural wonders, art, scholarship, and magic. Trade with the Suel Imperium thrived. In time, great monuments of marble and elaborate houses of stone were erected. Pottery, sculpture, and paintings are revered. Men travel from all over the continent to wonder at Thracia’s marvels and study in its halls of lore. Truly Thracia has come to rival the Suel Imperium itself in terms of its power and prestige. Thracia, by the grace of Zeus, is eternal!”

Sedara stops reading and says, “The scribe who worked on the first tome believes that this was written in an earlier period of the history of the city. He compiled these passages from the first and last sections of the tome so that we could learn of how Thracia was founded and the heights that it achieved as of the writing of that tome. Unfortunately, there are no more details about the Immortal King or Huvat Vex. I asked the scribe if the Flan still told such tales, but he said that these tomes were sealed away more than a millennia ago and were telling a tale of centuries or even a millennia before that. Even the Flan no longer remember these tales. The second tome tells a darker story. It was apparently written by a priest of Thanatos and it tells of the rise of his cult in Thracia.” She takes up the scroll and again reads.

“For the greater glory of the Dark One, I, Thanatophilis, set down this history of the worship of Thanatos, greatest and most final of all the gods. I write this so that all may come to know that Thanatos is our final destination who brings eternal undying peace to all those who accept his authority and are granted his favor. As even the gods may die, only Thanatos, who has mastery of death and therefore the secret of undoing death, can claim to be the greatest power of all.

“Since the days of King Thrax I, we Thracians have ever revered the ancient and powerful gods of our forebears such as Zeus who brings the lightning, Apollo whose music is the sunlight, and a broad and complex family of gods who swore allegiance to them on their thrones on Mount Olympus. [Scribe’s note: I have never heard of any such gods or of any such place as Mount Olympus. Neither has Paragon Muire or Father Cuthmond, though the latter allowed that sometimes gods or even clans of gods have tried to gain influence upon this world from other realms and have sometimes succeeded in establishing themselves here.] During the building of the Mons Zeus, a gargantuan temple that lifted itself up into the skies, the Thracians of old discovered a cavern beneath this great city. The cavern was found to be pulsating with arcane force, and it was then that we Thracians realized that it is the chthonian forces of the underworld that are meant to be the true source and indeed root of our power in this world and beyond. No longer then did we build our temples above ground. New altars rose up under the earth, built in caves scintillating with shadow and light.

“Thus we dug deeper, though slowly at first. Five hundred years after the initial exploration of the caves, an unusual  underground river and spring were discovered. On the banks of this river we built our greatest temples, ever closer to the Underworld where our blessed ones dwell in eternal splendor. We buried our most revered heroes and kings within these complexes. We became ever more aware of the primacy of death and the afterlife as we dug our crypts deeper and deeper. At first a small seed, our meditations on death eventually blossomed into the recognition that Thanatos is indeed the greatest of all the gods, the ruler of all the powers as terminus of them all.

“Thanatos was initially worshipped as the guide to the Underworld, appearing in his visage of death at the end of life and ushering the departed into the world below. Gradually we of Thracia realized that Zeus of the lightning and Apollo of the Lyre could not even compare to the majestic silence and dark grandeur of Thanatos. In time it was revealed to us that his true devotees would not be merely relegated after death to the land of shades. Rather, Thanatos would both indefinitely extend the lives of his true worshippers, deferring for a time their leave taking from this world, and after death they would be
ushered into palaces of gold. These palaces would be stocked with all the good things they had offered the cult of Thanatos and his priests in their mortal lifetimes, but multiplied a hundred or a thousand-fold. In addition, they would be served there for eternity by the souls of their wives and servants who had either proceeded or would follow them in death. Once these revelations were made clear, the nobility and the wealthy merchants flocked to Thanatos’ worship in droves.

“Unlike the niggardly worship of the past, these new devotees no longer held back the offering of lives. For the glory of Thanatos and to our own everlasting benefit we now offer up to him the lives of the conquered, of irredeemable criminals, of wives and slaves who follow their masters in death, and even infants. I must note that this latter is not the atrocity that other nations believe it to be, for these are unwanted children and instead of endangering the lives of the mothers by attempting to induce an abortion through herbs or the knife, we simply dedicate the newborn to Thanatos. We are a civilized people
after all. Thanatos protects his devotees and does not take from us what we would not freely give. He is a scourge only to our enemies and the undeserving, and for us and our posterity he grants death only as a final mercy and a balm to our suffering.

“Two hundred years after we Thracians discovered the river and built the second layer of temples, a spelunker discovered the majestic subterranean cavern wherein lay the ruins of an ancient city. His account was confirmed and within days King Argos II of House Agamenton himself made the journey downward to behold the wonders of the ancient city that came to be called Huvat Vex after the old tales of the Flan. The construction of a third layer of temples was begun, and the greatest of all would be the temple of Thanatos, now the deity of Argos himself. Beneath this hall Argos would create an entrance to Huvat Vex, from which he would henceforth rule, creating a perpetual paradise in the never-ending light.

Thus began the golden age of Thracia, an era of labor beneath the earth. But the needs of Argos’ grand vision could not be met by the legions of Flan slaves that we already possessed for hard labor and sacrifice to Thanatos. Consequently Argos’ armies turned to domesticating the barbarous races of beast men scattered about his kingdom, the minotaurs, the hyena-like gnolls, and a brutal race of canine warriors that came to be known as the dog-brothers.

“For all their lore, our scholars could make no sense of Huvat Vex. A bizarrely constructed and intact city within a mystical cavern had lain utterly abandoned for millennia, as if all of the residents had simply disappeared. No satisfying solution was found, and to quell the caviling sophists Argos II, guided by the wisdom of the Dark Patriarch of Thanatos, proclaimed the city a gift of the Underworld and a place of pleasure for those favored by the lord of death.”

Sedara looks up from the scroll and says, “The tome does not tell us any more about the history of Thracia or the worship of Thanatos beyond that point. Because this Thracian kingdom did not exist at the time of the Great Migrations, the scribes believe that Thracia’s rise and fall must have occurred a millennia ago at least. The third tome is more complicated, dealing with arcane and alchemical experiments to create slave races. Apparently these experiments were a dark inheritance of the Suel Imperium. The scribes believe that the beast men such as the gnolls, minotaurs, and dog-brothers may have been the results of these experiments who had either escaped or were let loose by the ancient Suel mages. We should have more of it translated by the time you have returned. In any case, as you know, these beast men still roam the world, especially in the Pomarj and other wild places. I would not be surprised if you were to find them in the vicinity of the ruins of Thracia.”

“Kopep!?” G’ruk laughs, a harsh croaking sound. “Oh no, the Immortal King is far older than Kopep. Kopep visited our tribe only a couple of hundred years ago, but the Immortal King ruled from Huvat Vex millennia ago. He is far greater than any mere dragon. I have dreamed of him, and if you are worthy so will you Drago! So will you!

“Now I agree we should let the humans fight each other. Yes, you are right, let them thin each other before we strike. But until then we must keep track of them, and they must be reported to King Stronghoen in Huvat Vex. Trakoadon!”

The lizardfolk warrior, who must have been standing just outside, enters the tent. “Yes, Shaman G’ruk!”

“Take this one and find him a tent. Leave his bandoleer here with me. I will keep it safe until his return. Send Igusadon, Iguanosuth, and Kopusuth to me. Once Drago has been found a place and given some refreshment, then he will return to the surface with Igusadon and the others and he will show them where this Keoland expedition is camped. From that point on, make sure that they are watched carefully. Drago may then return here and we will find other duties for him.”

G’ruk addresses Drago once more, “I am sure you will have no problem with this,” he bares his teeth at Drago in a lizardfolk grin to show that Drago’s feelings about this are no longer of any concern to G’ruk. “You are of an illustrious line, my good Drago. You may yet be the key to finding and awakening the Immortal King. Who knows, Drago, perhaps you will have an important part to play in the restoration of all lizardfolk to their rightful place as the rulers of this world. Go now, and show that you are worthy of our trust.”

Trakoadon then ushers Drago out of the tent.

Drago bobs his head in respect, “As you wish, Shaman G’ruk.” Drago does not wish to betray his friends, but he really wants to find the Immortal King to see if it is Kopep with his own eyes. Perhaps… if he can send them a secret message to abandon the wight house, they will be safe?

Fireseek 23

Once inside the foyer of the palace, Sir Jankin says, “The Prince asked me to have you all brought up to his solar for a debriefing.”

“Very well,” says Ragnbjorn, “but first there is something we need to get straightened out first.” He then steps over to Drago and says, “Drago, please remove your cloak.”

When Drago does so, they all see that once again he is a lizardfolk warrior.

Ragnbjorn asks, “Drago, we need to know what is going on with you before I can in good conscience bring you before Prince Prospero. How is it that you made yourself appear to be human?”

Drago respectfully hisses in Draconic, “I did no such thing.”

Ragnbjorn raises his eyebrow, “You didn’t? Well, you certainly appeared to be human when that guard pushed back your hood. Are you seriously claiming that was not your doing?”

Fingol: “You neither resisted the guard as pushed back your hood, nor showed surprise at his reaction. So you must have known or been a party to the deception. Explain it to us, evasiveness is not going to win you the trust you will need to continue as Newt’s self appointed bodyguard.”

Drago blinks and ponders. Finally he says in Draconic, “Sir Ragnbjorn, before we left on your ship, Chief Rahk told me that such is the way with sorcerers and adepts in my family. Their powers appear without aware and without control. At least at first. For myself, I have seen no evidence other than your reactions to me. It is very odd.”

Indranil has taken a step back, pushed his cloak away and placed his hand on his sword’s hilt. His eyes have narrowed and he is slipped into his hyper aware state of readiness.

Fingol holds his arm out between Indranil and Drago. “Peace cousin. Let’s continue to see the Prince. Meanwhile, we’ll have the guard show Drago to a room here in the keep where he can consider how it was we all saw what we saw. Afterall, if his powers are not under his control, he can scarcely expect to be brought before Prince Prospero.”

Ragnbjorn nods, “I agree Fingol. I did notice that the guard reached out rather quickly and Drago’s hands were too wrapped up in his cloak to stop him. I did notice, Drago, that you were a bit surprised that the guard was not surprised. So I do believe you when you say this was not of your conscious doing. Still, we must be careful.”

Ragnbjorn turns to Sir Jankin, “If you will, could you please take Drago as our guest to where he can have something to eat and drink until we have talked to the Prince and quarters have been assigned to him? I know the way to the Prince’s Solar.”

“As you will my lord,” Sir Jankin replies. To Drago, “If you would follow me this way, I’ll see if the kitchen staff can prepare something for you. I have never met one of your folk before and would be happy to keep you company for awhile. I am sure there is much you can teach me about the lizardfolk and the marshes.”

Indranil: “We cannot leave an untrained sorcerer alone in the Palace if we send to one of the guest quarters he needs to be kept under guard by a warded unit or escorted back to the Javan Queen to await our pleasure.”

“I am sure we will be fine, Sir Indranil,” says Jankin with a smile, “I am confident of my ability as a paladin of Heironeous to handle one lone sorcerer. There are also plenty of other knights and clerics about. But if you think my company is not sufficient for Drago, perhaps one of you can be spared from the meeting with the Prince?”

“Hmm,” Ragnbjorn considers, “Sir Lorindel, would you be good enough to keep Chief Rahk’s envoy company?”

“Of course, sir,” says Lorindel.

Indranil bows, “Good Sir Jankin, please excuse my caution. I do not question your capabilities only to note that whoever does guard him needs to be a paladin or cleric themselves skilled in detecting and warding from
magic. We have had recent dealings with evil clerics and sorcerers narrowly escaping with our lives against great odds and to return to Westkeep under martial law. It is uncertain times.”

“No need to apologize,” I would be feeling ill-at-ease as well if I returned from the field to find the city as it is. In fact, I cannot honestly say that I do feel at ease with the present conditions.”

Jankin turns to Drago, “It would be best for your own safety and our own peace of mind if you were escorted until you have been formally introduced to the Prince and the court.”

“I don’t suspect evil.” Fingol jumps in “Please don’t take Sir Indranil’s words as an inference. But to bring one with untrained power before the Prince is a risk that cannot be justified.

“I am sure you will enjoy your time with Drago. There is much to be admired in the Malarat.”

The ever quiet Drago, dizzy from the accusations and the ramifications, finally says in butchered Keolandish, “Please, please, I would be happy to join this kind human, Sir Jankin and our friend Sir Lorindel. I too would not trust me. I too do not trust me.” Then looking at Sir Jankin, “But I trust you. I will tell you all I know.”

Still not feeling terribly safe in this hell hole palace the humans call home, he dons his cape once more as a disguise and walks with Jankin and Lorindel.

As Drago walks away, he appears unusually talkative with Jankin and Lorindel, but the others can’t hear what he is saying over the din.

Switching to Common to more easily express himself and lowering his voice an octave so as not to be overheard, Drago begins, “For me, it all began near the end of our battle to take the ancestral mounds of my people away from Deathwalkers. The wight Relikez paralyzed me and then drained my energy. The hatchling Newt rescued me or surely I would not be with you today. Chief Rahk believes that I was able to cure myself because of my ancestors. Only two days ago, he told me that our village elders believe that I descend from a copper dragon who long ago lived amongst my people. He said there have been many adepts and sorcerers amongst Kopep’s descendants ever since.”

Drago went on and on, hardly pausing to breathe, thankful to express at last what has been bottled inside him these last few days. He told them about the message to Newt that, evidently, he sent on the wind and repeated that he has no knowledge of the magic when it occurs. He only sees the evidence in human words and their faces, which he still cannot read well.

Sir Jankin exclaims, “What a marvelous story! So you are supposedly descended from dragons, or a dragon anyway, and now you find yourself a sorcerer? Is this common among the lizardfolk?”

Drago replies, “No, it is not common among our kind, although adepts and sorcerers are honored for what they can contribute to the tribe.”

Drago, that is quite a revelation,” admits Lorindel. “I have no reason to doubt such an account, and as you quoted Chief Rahk some corroboration can be established.”

After a brief pause, Lorindel says, “I meant no disrespect by that, it’s just that Sir Indranil is very strict on security, understandably, in this detail.”

After walking a few steps in silence, Drago says, “But Chief Rahk is far from here. Can humans send messages on the wind as well?” If they could see his face, they would see a quizzical and curious look. The human world is so much more complicated than he imagined.

“Yes, there are many who have the means to send and recieve messages over long distances,” explains Lorindel. “Some use arcane and divine powers, while others utilize animals and other creatures to relay messages.”

Fingol and Indranil return to the lower hall where Jankin, Lorindel, and Drago are waiting for them. They overhear Drago and Lorindel talking as they come in.

Drago ponders this for a moment and a light goes on in his dimly lit mind and he says softly, “Perhaps a sorcerer can help me learn about myself?”

“I don’t see why not,” responds Lorindel.

Just then Fingol and Indranil return from their meeting with the Prince. Ragnbjorn is no longer with them.

WARNING, WARNING, WARNING! The source of Drago’s magick is revealed herein. Do not continue reading if you do not want to know! Leave now!

The lizard man Drago is awakening to the draconic powers of Kopep.

Drago’s Drakonik Kantrips

• Detect Magic (Magio Rivelighu!)
• Disrupt Undead (Disrompu Nemortajhon!)
• Mage’s Hand (Jhetu Sorch-manon!)
• Message (Sendu Mesaghon!)
• Unnerving Gaze (Nemaltrankviliganta Rigardas!)

Drago’s Dragon Powers

• Dragon Claws
• Disguise Self (Kaŝvestu Selfn!)
• Orb of Acid Lesser (Jhetu Malplian Acid-globon!)

Fireseek 21, Common Year 591 – Drakonik Revelations
As Drago follows Newt ashore he is intercepted by Chief Rahk. “Come, Drago, I wish to speak with you.”

“Yes, Chief Rahk, I was just thinking about speaking with you as well. Thank you,” Drago hisses with an appropriate submissive posture. “How can I help you?”

Chief Rahk takes Drago far away from the Javan Queen, to the other side of the ruins of Cypress Hill. He signals several warriors to take up guard position to ensure that they are not disturbed. Then, when he is certain no humans are about he turns to Drago and begins speaking in Draconic.

“Drago, I know that since you were a hatchling you have been restless. You have long felt the need to see what lies beyond our nests and hunting grounds. No, you need not deny it. We elders have long observed this and there is no shame in it, for we also know why you feel it. I will explain why in a moment.

“Now I need someone to go with these ape children for a time. They are valorous. Sir Ragnbjorn and his son and comrades at least have shown themselves to be trustworthy and steadfast allies. We need such allies for I fear that there are many more Deathwalkers out there – perhaps in this lost city of Thracia. And of course the Scarlet Brotherhood may return as well.

“Now you must understand Drago,” continues Chief Rahk, “That this is not an exile but a mission of great importance that I wish to give you. I want you to be our representative among the humans. I want you to go with them, help them find this lost city and learn all you can about what is going on out there. There is no shame in this. You are being sent away only for a time for the good of the tribe. But perhaps this is what you wanted isn’t it? This is your chance to go among them and see a bigger world. So go then with our blessing and for the good of the tribe. Learn all you can and do what you must to help them as long as it does not harm our tribe. Then return to us and we shall discuss all that you have seen and heard, and all that you and they have done.

“Now, before you say whether you will accept this or not, I wish to tell you something more. You may know that many shamans and acolytes and even sorcerers have come from your line, but only the elders know why this is. It was more than just the heroism of that hatchling Newt that saved you. I believe it was more than just luck that you were spared the fate of your comrade Vesk. I think it was the destiny that lies within your blood. For know this, Drago, in ages past our tribe was visited by a strange copper scaled warrior. Kopep was the name he gave us. Kopep stayed with us for a time and helped our tribe during a time of great need. He married, raised hatchlings, and yet never seemed to age. Then one day, he left us. From that time on his descendants have shown themselves to be possessed of a great affinity for magic, and many times their scales have turned copper as they have grown into their power. I believe the same may be happening to you. You have not seen it, but since the battle several of the scales on your back have turned from green to copper. It is the belief of the elders that this Kopep was in fact a dragon. He was perhaps a copper dragon, perhaps from the Tors or the Little Hills. It may be that your wanderlust and the changes that you may soon be undergoing are his legacy. The elders know from past experience with others of your line, as told in our secret tales that you will need time away from the routines of the tribe to explore the world and the power of your bloodline before you will be ready to settle down with us again and contribute your strength to the good of the tribe. So this is another reason why we wish to send you with the ape children.

“Now, Drago, will you leave our tribe for the good of the tribe? Will you undertake this mission and go with these ape children for a time?”

Drago is speechless for a moment at this revelation. He doesn’t know what to say. Then he finds his tongue as he bows deep, “It would be my honor, Chief Rahk, to serve the tribe in this way. I think the magic in my blood is beginning to come forth as well. The hatchling Newt just told me that I sent her a message from a distance, but I know not how I did so.”

Chief Rahk nods, “Ah, so it has already begun. I thank you for accepting this mission. The Malarat thank you. I will inform Sir Ragnbjorn and Sir Fingol that we wish you to join any expedition to this lost city that they seek.”

DISCLAIMER: This is background info for Drago that does not appear in the master narrative, nor does it reveal any secrets.

Last summer before I met the humans, I wandered around the swamps as is my druthers. I found an area that had more lizards than elsewhere and so I stayed awhile to watch and visit them. For the most part they were small lizards scurrying around my feet. I’m sure there are nagas in the area as well.

Anyway, there were two main kinds of lizards I watched that moon cycle. One is them is the most common creature you are likely to see in the swamp, and some even have subtle blue markings. The other lizard was less seen. It was bigger, brighter, longer, faster, and it lived deep in the ground like a dragon. Both lizards have a similar blue, but very different markings. After spending some time there, it was not difficult to imagine that they have been interbreeding here in the swamp since before time began. They looked different but their pool is the same. Each species trying to keep to their self but sometimes, some sweet talking pretty boy comes along to mix the gene pool, the result of which can be seen for many generations with infinite variety of size, shape and color… and some traits only occasionally.