>>6341589
Mastery of all crafts and all knowledge, long ago, those were your main drives in life. Long before you first donned the guise of a steel-clad tyrant, a deceitful courtier, or an insidious wizard, those were times long since passed, but you remembered them fondly; it was perhaps the closest you remembered a 'youth', though a child you never were.

But it was of little matter now; you knew full well what some would do for knowledge. It was a gift that would never truly stop giving, and it could ensnare men even in the normal sense. And so it was with the latest in your line of acolytes.

The elf Erassyl had been in your half-employment, half-imprisonment since you had left the demonic wastes behind you, and though she had initially been resistant and stoically disapproved of all you stood for, the combination of the book and the isolation was enough. After a month, she came out sleep-deprived, wary, and despairing.

''Forgive me for my defiance; I did not know what knowledge you were privy to. I cannot worship you as they do, but I am willing to pledge myself to your creed, your true goal and purpose,'' she said, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and determination.

Ah, yes, your actual goal, an end goal, that which you were working toward in the time before you were first defeated. None outside a select few knew about it, but you suppose you could share it with her, if only to see the look upon her face.

>This world is chaotic and flawed; the masses spent their time chasing after false idols and temporary pleasures. I shall impose a vision of order, industry, and progress.
>Godhood, those who reign above and below have become lazy and indolent; it is time for a new member to set things in motion once more.
>The world is flawed on a deeper level than you could imagine; it must be unmade to remake it into something useful.

>>6341592
Ah, the classic Sauron/Saruman industriousness, the ascension, and the old destroy the world standby, though we'd soon remake it. You'd think the latter would have one or both of the former as prerequisites anyway.

>Godhood, those who reign above and below have become lazy and indolent; it is time for a new member to set things in motion once more.

All final goals are in the end, only points in transition. There will be a new grand purpose after that. But she need not worry about that, for such a purpose will doubtlessly outlive even her.

>>6341592
>The world is flawed on a deeper level than you could imagine; it must be unmade to remake it into something useful.
This world is insufficient, its vistas, doldrums, its wonders, wretched. In every aspect it falls far short of where it should be. Those gods, in their faux-vaunted haughtiness, in their insipid preening, failed. It is satisfactory for their goals, for the worship they so demand and the crawling histories that so amuse them, but for us it is not worthy. For us, only a world anew shall suffice. It shall be so unlike this one as the cratered moon 'fore the resplendent dawn, and by our guile, by our might, by our sheer and sovereign will, the gods' sun shall set. Mere divinity is but a farce. Petty dominion, a trifle. Let us cast aside all distractions and SEIZE clarity! In annihilation, in destruction, in the rapid and violent and glorious dispensation of this earth, it is by these insights which we will beget a paradigm of our own, and none other.

Welcome back AdleQM! It is exciting to see a second thread.

>>6341592
>This world is chaotic and flawed; the masses spent their time chasing after false idols and temporary pleasures. I shall impose a vision of order, industry, and progress.
Ah yes, the greatest disaster for the human race: The Industrial Revolution

>>6341592
>This world is chaotic and flawed; the masses spent their time chasing after false idols and temporary pleasures. I shall impose a vision of order, industry, and progress.

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This world is chaotic and flawed; the masses spend their time chasing after false idols and temporary pleasures. I shall impose a vision of order, industry, and progress.

This world is full of the lazy, the indolent, and those who would rather pursue the frivolous distractions only suited towards their immediate gratification. No, you rejected such pretentious hedonism; there is only labour, labour towards a great end goal, the imposing of true order, discipline and efficiency upon this chaotic world. Only through your guidance can such a vision be brought into this world.

You have no need for godhood, for what good is godhood if you cannot directly control your dominion? Let there be gods above and below; upon this world there is only you, and you don't share.

Let that be enough for thee, Erassyl; this world is mine because I alone can bring it into a new age. None other can even think to come close to that which I envision, for I am the ultimate architect of this reality.''

She didn't reply, merely bowing and leaving your sight as soon as she could, she was damned, just as damned as your other closed followers, but for as long as they were here, judgment would elude them.

And so you returned to your alchemical laboratory; in these parts, it is your main source of a variety of useful resources, most of all your income.

The bandits had been able to safely sell the drugs you had produced here in one of the sultan's cities, thus giving you some wealth from the illicit trade.

As for the warband, they had, with success, been able to occupy and subjugate the iron mine for your own purposes; a small garrison has been installed, the miners enslaved, and mining operations have resumed under their control.

Unfortunately for you, however, there were problems with the transportation of the iron ore to your home base, as desert raiders had found that the caravans made for good pickings, and while the warband could keep them from taking it all and from directly going into your territory, you weren't getting as much iron or other minerals as you had hoped.

Ledger
0 Building materials
6 Wealth
4 Iron (+1 iron per turn, halved due to bandit raids)
1 Elixir

You can raise one more warband or two new bandit groups. Would you like to do so?

>Raise one warband
>Raise two bandit groups
>Raise one bandit group
>Keep the iron for now

>>6341822
>Raise one warband

Just as planned. We'll use a combo of one warband and our own bandit group to track down and pin the desert raiders between cold steel and fast, elusive camel riders. That empty slice of desert shall be ours, the route to our mine secure, and the hidden oasis which sustains these miscreants will parch our servant's throats. The freshly raised warband can take the sandstone mine to our north in the meantime.

>>6341836
Will quench our servant's parched throats*

Ahem, woops.

>>6341822
>Raise one war band
>>6341836
>miscreants will parch our servant's throats
These bandits are freaky

>>6341822
I agree with >>6341836. We should use the warband to take care of the desert raider problem.

>>6341822
>Raise one warband

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With enough iron in storage for you to proceed with the creation of an additional warband for your own purpose, you set to work. For you could produce in a matter of days weapons and armour that would take a mortal smith weeks or months, and that you didn't need to sleep or rest in any shape or form was an additional boon you were ever willing to take advantage of.

Within said few days, Samarda had been able to raise some additional men to serve within the new warband, to be distinguished from the original by wearing green cloth instead of red.

Training was harsh and strict and successfully ground out enough hardened men that you could have them perform the most heinous of acts if push came to shove.

They then partook in the religious ceremony in front of the snake god idol to fully pledge allegiance to you, shedding their blood into a brass bowl on the altar, drinking the snake poison and marking their bodies with the symbol of the snake god. As your foremost priestess egged them on.

And so they would march into the desert, which would complete the task your instructors couldn't and complete the culling of the weak. Their destination was obvious; their task is to eliminate the bandits who have been robbing you of your precious iron. Thus, you had given specific instructions to be extra vicious, for none would be allowed to rob you of your property, for when it came to matters such as that, you could be as fierce as the dragons.

That was one of your warband's accounted for; as for the other, what would you have them do?
>March upon the stone quarry
>Support the other warband in their operations
>Start paving the way to the gem mine

What would you have the raiders do?
>Raid an iron caravan
>Raid the gem mines
>Assist in operations against the bandits.
>Have them run drugs into the sultanate.
>Raid a quarry

>>6342304
>March upon the stone quarry
>Assist in operations against the bandits.

One fast and agile element, another ponderous and resolute as stone. The hammer and anvil. More would only slow them down as they struggled to coordinate.

>>6342325
I agree with this, it's the most efficient use of our men.

>>6342304
>March upon the stone quarry
Those fortresses won’t build themselves.

>Raid the gem mines

>>6342325
+1 to this, a solid move

roll a 2d100 for both operations.

[DC60] For the stone quarry

[DC80] For the anti-banditry activities.

Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>6342431
I'll levy a roll towards cutting the thread of those filthy bandits' lives.

>>6342436
Damn, they're craftier than I thought.

Rolled 2, 91 = 93 (2d100)

>>6342431

Rolled 21, 38 = 59 (2d100)

>>6342431

Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>6342431
Here's another 1d100, if we need it.

>Bandit results: 89, 91, 38: 1 success. They will defeat the bandits, but it will take extra time.

>Quarry results 2, 21, 40: complete success, the warband can be used immediately

Diligently you continued your work, for the realm would need more and more materials if it were to grow and conquer. As for your warbands, they were busy with both subjugating a quarry and engaging in an anti-banditry operation, and though you lacked the means to oversee them directly, you had hoped for them to be effective in their operations.

The news itself was both good and bad: the warband you sent to the stone quarry was able to brush aside the token resistance and subjugate the main villages and oases, and your agents were able to enforce a contract of vassalage, worship, and tribute to you both in kind and in money. However, the warband tasked with the anti-banditry operation faced unexpected challenges as the bandits proved to be more organised and resourceful than anticipated. Fleeing into the desert whenever they were confronted and only appearing to strike at the rear or supply carts, not even your screening force of desert raiders could truly keep them from doing it, but they were able to slowly grind out the desert bandits; it would take time, but they would fall.

It made you mildly unamused, but you supposed it wasn't an actual failure, so you wouldn't order a punishment for either the raider chief or the captain of the warband.

It did free up your time, though, allowing you to focus on other pressing matters within your realm, in particular about reclaiming that which once was yours, for you were still but a pale shadow of your former glory; you were yet barely corporeal, you yet missed your fair form, and your magics were but cheap parlour tricks compared to what was once within your reach.

This land yet held many a treasure beneath dunes and mountains, just waiting to be uncovered. The pharaohs, kings, and sultans had all left things beneath the sands. And finders are keepers in these parts.

>I must work to restore myself to full form.
>My powers shall be restored in full, if only I can absorb more power.
>Artefacts shall help me, their designs can be copied and improved.

>>6342741
>My powers shall be restored in full, if only I can absorb more power.

>>6342741
>>My powers shall be restored in full, if only I can absorb more power.

>>6342741
>My powers shall be restored in full, if only I can absorb more power.

>>6342741
>My powers shall be restored in full, if only I can absorb more power.

Trinkets blessed with foreign magicks and by faraway gods shall not avail us. We must restore our full power, and then grow beyond!

>>6342741
>I must work to restore myself to full form.
I wanna eat some food god damn.

In the olden days, your power was like that of gods; with your pull, you could render earthquakes, meteors, and storms. Laying waste to armies and fleets with but a flick of the wrist, magical prowess was yours to command. But now you render but cheap tricks, things which can only hurt a limited set of individuals. In the olden times, it was said that your presence accounted for a hundred thousand men in battle, but now, there was but naught that you could scrounge up from your own limited form; thus, you resolved to begin the process of attaining even more of your lost glory.

First things first, you should leave your nascent domain in the hands of someone who could actually govern it; for lack of a better candidate, you chose Samarda and Nafiri, Samarda to oversee the basic finance and other administrative rubbish you had already dumped on her, and Nafiri to keep your snake cult around, which now was beginning to grow, as the cities had begun to send a set of them to act as subordinates in your realm.

You would take Erassyl and Mortharn with you, Erassyl to act as your scribe, and Mortharn to destroy anything that might oppose you. Aside from them, there would be the usual contingent of your lesser disciples, a small bodyguard, and pack animals. And so you marched out from your desert village, out into the desert wastes, where you once more began to peer beyond the veil, to see that which remains unseen. There is much left forgotten, some that wishes to be forgotten, others that are better left forgotten.

And so you walked barefoot; you couldn't kill the sand with your touch, and as such, you found your feet upon the sand, grating though it might be; you could at least feel it, worthless though it was. Still, you did find the first piece of that which you were looking for.

>Uncovered by the winds, a statue of great height, a winged lion with a man's head
>A ghost, denied the afterlife and lost, wandering the desert.
>Nearly, stumbling over it, a brass bull lost beneath the sand
>A decorated skull, engraved with hieroglyphs

>>6343285
>A ghost, denied the afterlife and lost, wandering the desert.
This vestige we'll render tangible and then rend open, to better seize the secrets of necromancy we once held.

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>6343285
>A ghost, denied the afterlife and lost, wandering the desert

>>6343285
"I don't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere." - ̶A̶n̶a̶k̶i̶n̶ ̶S̶k̶y̶w̶a̶l̶k̶e̶r̶ The Dark Lord
>A ghost, denied the afterlife and lost, wandering the desert.

>>6343285
>A ghost, denied the afterlife and lost, wandering the desert.

>>6343285
>A decorated skull, engraved with hieroglyphs

Cool skullz.

It was a faint sound, though you couldn't figure out from a distance what it was, so you decided to move closer. It didn't come from any mortal creature that walked upon this earth; it was something left behind from beyond. There was only that which didn't pass away from this world that remained. This being the desert, whatever died here must have decided to remain here.

As you came closer, you, and only you, began to hear it fully. Erassyl, elf though she may be, clearly didn't possess the potency in these matters as her ancestors. It was an incessant wailing, a cry for help that seemed to echo over the vast emptiness of the desert. It annoyed you greatly, and within you there came a desire to grab this incessant wretch by the throat and silence it once and for all.

As you climbed over the final dune, you saw it in full, a ghost, pale blue and translucent, floating just above the sand. His face was withered and gaunt, his eyes tired and glum, and he looked upon you, and you looked at him, for you saw from his clothes that he was a man years out of time; his rags were years out of fashion, and he cried out: "Oh, woe is me, for even now, there are travellers who, unable to hear me, are unable to aid me, but alas, such is my fate."

You stopped, looked him dead in the eye and answered: "Thou should be so quick as to assume I cannot hear thee, for I am more than able to, and thy whinging brought mine ears great displeasure." You acidly spoke.

His rotten face immediately turned from one of despair to one of delight. "A-ha, so there's someone who can hear me! Ha-ha, hope isn't lost just yet! I am Prince Shahut-Nezzar, rightful heir to the throne of Ereb-Tum. I seek your assistance in reclaiming my kingdom from the treacherous usurper who has taken it from me." You listened intently and then laughed in his face. Telling him bluntly that time and sands had already reclaimed his realm.

"Of that I am aware, which is why I am offering you the opportunity to aid me. I must have a body once more, and I know where it is buried; then I shall rebuild my realm. Ah, the great things I shall achieve! If you help me, I shall reward you greatly."

You were not amused; if he was trying to manipulate you into helping him, he was making a terrible showing of it, and your suspicion gave you the sense he was hiding something. He hadn't yet related the reason for his exile, and you doubted that it was because of an evil uncle or vizier.

>I brook no rivals; I shall kill him here and now.
>Let him lead me to where he wants to be, then I shall betray him.
>Press for more information.

>>6343758
>Let him lead me to where he wants to be, then I shall betray him.

>>6343758
If he is a trickster evil vizier, or another evil god-king like us, then he is in good company.

>Let him lead me to where he wants to be, then I shall betray him.

Let us see who betrays who first. The man out of time, or a desert snake.

>>6343758
>Let him lead me to where he wants to be, then I shall betray him.

He just needs us to send him $10,000 so he can pay to get his billion dollar inheritance out of legal limbo and share it with us! We'll be rich!

>>6343758
>Let him lead me to where he wants to be, then I shall betray him.

Maybe we can put slave ritual markings on his body. We do have some skill in necromancy, so maybe we can dominate this ghost and his corpse.

>>6343758
>Let him lead me to where he wants to be, then I shall betray him.

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You shouldn't try to escalate too soon; for now an ordinary investigation should be enough. Brute-forcing the matter would blow the cover of whoever this grovekeeper is supposed to be, who would probably go into hiding if you tried to apprehend him.

No, you would require more leads and clues. There was a special oak tree that would stay green throughout the year, which would be easy to spot in the winter, even with the spruce and pine around, but it was summer, and thus you could only work out the fact that it was an oak in the middle of a set of ruins.

What else was there? An order to kill any Almerician brother they came across. That alone was a bit strange. The brothers of St Almeric aren't traditionally part of anything like the Inquisition, nor are they an armed order. Were they close to finding something out? Was the monastery perhaps close to where this oak was supposed to be?

That other letter you got said something about Dornheim, and he said something about a monk you encountered before, about blocking his path if he dared tread upon his demesne again, which was strange. You didn't exactly know what kind of robes Almericians wore, but if they are similar to his, this investigation would get even more complex.

Then there was this grovekeeper, whoever he or she could be; the handwriting and vocabulary in the letter made you suspect it was someone of high birth, though you obviously didn't have a single idea as to their actual identity.

Perhaps you were overthinking it, or perhaps you had no idea as to the scale of whatever shadowy dealings were happening in the empty places of your kingdom.

You weren't certain as to how you would proceed as of yet; you would continue to investigate, but then what? Bluntly stopping by castles and asking about oaks will be suspicious, though you suspect that if whoever that message was supposed to be for finds out you have it, it would raise their suspicions as well.

>We should continue on and consult the nearest lord for nearby monasteries.
>We should lay a trap for whoever this message was meant for.
>We're already on the right road, methinks, so we should simply follow the trail.

>>6344239
Wrong thread

>>6344239
''I cannot help thee, Prince Shahut-Nezzar, if thou doesn't discern the location of thy body.''

"Of course, of course, come along, come along, I shall regale you with the tale of my ignominious demise." Prince Shahut-Nezzar replied, leading the way.

You would much rather he would keep quiet, but no, you had to listen to how he was born the eldest of his father's children, but he was passed over, wrongfully, he reminded you, in favour of his younger brother, for his mother was but a lowly concubine and his brother was a princess.

Indeed, in time, he raised support among his followers, buried his brother alive, and left his wife and children in bitter exile in the desert wastes, where they would surely perish.

It was obvious to you that this man was as much an idiot in life as he was in death. Indulging your own sadistic urges is something you like to do as well, but not if there is a risk to it. 'Incompetent imbecile' was your primary thought as you heard him narrate his own downfall, filled with tales about him splurging money, kidnapping the women of various noble families, and ultimately ending with his nephew returning and burying him alive as far away from the capital as possible.

And that's ultimately where you are heading, to a blasted, windy, desolate piece of desert mountain, where not even jackals go nor any signs of life can be found. If you wanted someone forgotten, this would be the place.

The entrance itself was at least partially collapsed, and you figured the seal upon it would take some time to be unbound, and inside there might have been left traps of all kinds. You ascended the stairs, and thus read the inscription above the gate.

Let it be known to all that Shahut-Nazzar, traitor and usurper, is locked up within here, nevermore to return to his; may his soul and name be cursed and damned a thousand times over.

You were finally there, and after having your non-existent ears nearly yapped off by this failure of a usurper. You did smirk at the inscription, though you would have fed him to the scorpions for your amusement. Still, you had yet to decide how to get inside.

>Bruteforce the matter; have the men use a piece of rubble to break down the doors.
>This requires a more magical solution, one which only I can provide.
>Have the men remove the seal and lock with utmost care.

>>6344254
>Have the men remove the seal and lock with utmost care.
though frankly I wonder whether they have the skills for such a task

>>6344254
>Have the men remove the seal and lock with utmost care.
>>6344239
truly a fearsome weaver of tales shahut is if he can pull from another story

>>6344254
>Have the men remove the seal and lock with utmost care.

>>6344254
>Bruteforce the matter; have the men use a piece of rubble to break down the doors.
They hated this guy - doubt he was buried with anything worth saving.

They come before the door, you step aside, and they either need to pick whatever lock was on it or try to remove it from whatever hinges it rested upon.

Though it started with a bit of a rough start, one of your followers jammed his dagger in between the door and the frame, successfully breaking the lock. The door swung open with a loud creak, revealing what lay beyond.

Decay: the sands had not yet claimed what was there; two stone lamasus guard the corridor. They weren't enchanted, but the gems set in their eyes frightened and excited the men, who climbed up to grab them.

The tomb itself had been bare and scarcely decorated by the standards of the culture it once belonged to. No traps, though that was to be expected; they obviously held Shahut in contempt and thus did not wish to give him that dignity.

His corpse lay slumped and deflated, naturally mummified, with none of the usual ceremonial wrappings. It was a pathetic sight, and you had not held Shahut in much regard beforehand. There were no great treasures to be found here, but there was something that piqued your interest: a small, intricately carved amulet hanging around Shahut's neck. It seemed out of place in the otherwise plain tomb. A piece of sapphire hung from a delicate chain, catching the dim light filtering in from the entrance. There obviously was something magical about it, but you decided to pocket it for the time being. Turning to further question Prince Shahut, who had been oddly quiet.

"Thou had spoken about a reward, yet I found naught but bare chambers and thy corpse. Thou shouldst not deceive the well-willing, for it is they upon whom the downtrodden, such as thee, must rely."

"Oh no no no, obviously my hated nephew never saw fit to bury me properly, but not to worry, we just need to get to the capital; once there, I shall give you many a chest of gold or silver. Say you are a mage, yes? You could bind my spirit to my body, thus allowing me to be seen. Do that, and I shall, uh, triple the reward."

You quietly took out the amulet, clenching it tightly, and then you spoke.

"You made for a poor king and a poorer swindler; I shall not help thee. Nay, thou wert but a fool in life, and thou art a fool in death. Now behold, as I shall rid myself of thy intransigence once and for all!

And you held up one of your arms and, in a dreadful tongue, began to recite a spell of magic to deal with him once and for all.

>Bind him inside the amulet for future experimentation.
>Burn his corpse, both to see what happens and for kicks.
>Attack him directly, to allow you to eat his essence.

>>6344658
>Burn his corpse, both to see what happens and for kicks.
I must admit a fair amount of curiosity.

>>6344658
>Burn his corpse, both to see what happens and for kicks.
evil can't resist being evil

>>6344658
>Attack him directly, to allow you to eat his essence.

>Burn his corpse, both to see what happens and for kicks.

>>6344658
>Burn his corpse, both to see what happens and for kicks.
Kicks are the primary motivation in all things.

>>6344658
>Burn his corpse, both to see what happens and for kicks.

We do it for the lulz.

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Shahut looked at you in sudden rage and disgust, but before he could open his mouth, you took off your gloves and opened fire upon his corpse, intending to burn it to a crisp.

Fire spat forth from your palm. Powered by your spite, hate, disdain and desire for vengeance upon all who dared oppose you. The flames began to lick intensely at Shahut's body. While his spirit panicked and raved.

"No! Stop! I bid you to stop. I can quadruple, quintuple; I shall pay whatever you wish to have. STOP! I feel my sense of self…

You did stop, not so much because you agreed, but because you wished to see his corpse, which now had begun to char quite nicely, impressive for something so dried up over the years.

You then shot even more fire at his corpse, intensifying the flames until nothing was left but a pile of ash. His ghost had begun to unbind, as it began to look less and less like Shahut. It too collapsed, but it was not like the others could see it; no, he would dissolve into ectoplasm.

But oh, it felt fun to do. You didn't have this much fun since you nailed an entire royal line of dwarves to the mountainside to watch as you systematically plundered their hold. There was no way to come around it; for the first time in millennia, you reared back your head and roared out your laughter.

'A horrible thing to behold,' so your minions once said, and even here, your escort had taken to plugging their fingers into their ears, while Erassyl's pointed ears had turned downward from the sound. It vibrated throughout, and the startled sounds of the camels and horses outside came in answer. You recomposed yourself, and, like nothing had happened, you walked out of the tomb.

It had been a relatively fruitless endeavour, though you did gain a silver amulet out of it, which you should handle with care. Silver was one of the metals truly anathema to one such as you. In small amounts it was harmless, but it could hurt you like no other thing if it was properly applied.

Nevertheless, this amulet did hold some magical prowess, which you would absorb in due time. As you returned to the assembled troops awaiting outside, you decided:

>To search for this nephew of his, he might have more artefacts for me to 'eat'.
>Enough of this, we shall return to the village.
>We shall prowl through the desert once more, for there is more than this swindler to gain.

>>6345087
Marvelous.
>To search for this nephew of his, he might have more artefacts for me to 'eat'.
If they buried this usurper curr with silver, imagine how much richer the crown jewels must be!

>>6345087
>To search for this nephew of his, he might have more artefacts for me to 'eat'.

>>6345087
>To search for this nephew of his, he might have more artefacts for me to 'eat'.

You turned once more to your assembled party. You might have murdered someone who already was dead for a few thousand years, but aside from a magical talisman and personal satisfaction, you were left empty-handed. An unacceptable outcome! You had come to reclaim your power, and if Shahut wouldn't be the one to provide it to you, then you would get it from his nephew, from his entire family tree if need be!

But first you would need to find out where exactly they buried the little shit, though he probably was an old coot by the time he was buried, or not. Overthrowing someone like Shahut isn't enough proof that he was a good king; any half-brained goat-herder with at least half a brain and four teeth could have done it.

And so you set out into the desert once more. Unbothered by the heat, cold, wind or wildlife, as you had always been. If it weren't for your ambition, this would have been your fate, to walk the earth forevermore, never changing and never dying. But it was in that that you were different, even from your earliest days onwards.

Boundless ambition, indomitable will, and a thirst for power that could never be quenched. These were the traits that had come together to melt together into the personification of power: you. Even now, weakened and diminished, you were driving yourself onwards; your vision shall come, order shall be imposed upon the unruly, and all shall come forth and name you lord and master of this world.

But first you would need to find the tomb and try to get your following to get there in one piece…

Roll a 1d100 [DC60] to see if your followers can withstand the dangers that lie ahead. The more success, the less danger.

Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>6346065
rollan

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>6346065

Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>6346065
Let s hope for the worse for our foes.

And on you trekked, trying to find this Ereb-Tum, wherever it might be; if you were lucky, it would be some easily accessible ruins you could simply search through on your own terms and at your own pace. It would be a problem if they were still occupied, or even worse, if fate had seen fit to build another civilisation atop the bones of the old one.

The desert proved to be about as unrelenting as it always had been; your men, being hardened desert warriors, were able to withstand the harsh conditions better than most. Erassyl obviously wasn't built to withstand such conditions, but she made do. You did give her the most minor of blessings in this matter, for it cost you little, and you preferred your minions in ready shape.

The time for using it would draw nigh; you noticed it earlier than most. They made a good effort in not being seen, but you could catch their scent from over the dune crest. This group of desert raiders, from what you could draw from their thoughts, were not out on a mission of assassination, instead having come across you by chance.

Obviously, they wouldn't directly confront you, not now, no; they would attempt an ambush, especially on an armed group like yours. Though to feign weakness, you had ordered much to be hidden under scarf and robe. And they did come, blocking the way ahead, their leader sitting proudly atop his camel.

"This is the ancestral homeland of my clan, trespasser. Pay the fare and extra reparations or suffer the consequences." A blatant shakedown, the audacity of which you found amusing. But you gave no reply, for you wished to see how they would react to the terror you could bring.

You currently have 15/15 Dark Power.

Would you like to cast a spell?

>Create a great blot of darkness (-4 D) [DC 60]
>Shoot a fireball at the main group (-8 DP) [DC 75]
>Blast them with a shot of pure dark energy (-8DP)
>Spread fear and terror in their hearts and minds (-10DP) [DC55]
>Invade their minds, enthral them all to your will (-15 DP) [DC45]
>I shall not cast any spell for the time being.

>>6346545
>Shoot a fireball at the main group (-8 DP) [DC 75]

>>6346545
>Shoot a fireball at the main group (-8 DP) [DC 75]
We just wanna grill! Hehehheh.

>>6346545
>>Blast them with a shot of pure dark energy (-8DP)
we already did some stuff with fire recently. variety is the spice of life etc etc

Bemusing though this little roadblock might be, the intransigence of these desert pilferers to block your path would need to be taught as a lesson in both manners and about how the natural order in this world was arranged.

You stepped forward, not uttering a single word; you let shine on just what you were hiding beneath your hood. If you had your mouth, you would have grinned maniacally.

As you began to weave your dark magicks, the brigands were either frozen in fear, trying to break out of it, or simply trying to flee the scene, which was about to get a lot warmer.

In the palms of your hand, it began to coalesce. Growing hotter and warmer, as you fed your infant fireball the fuel it needed to grow, the flames danced and flickered, and the wind began to pick up speed, whipping around you in a frenzy.

The only thing you needed to do now was make an estimate as to where it should land, and then you could release.

You looked at them one last time, then the fireball shot forth from your hands with malice in its core and death as its intent.

To see what effect the fireball has, roll 1d100 [DC 75]

Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>6346892
Are we the god of hellfire?

Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>6346892

Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>6346892
Mwahahahaha

And so it shot forth, screeching through the air with a terrible wail that echoed as it homed in on its target, who weren't at all prepared to face your fireball's blaze.

Within a second, the group of desert raiders were wailing and clutching at their burning clothes as the fireball engulfed them in flames, their animals panicking and stampeding in all directions, and chaos erupting in the desert. Burnt cloth and flesh made its way to your smell, and you smelt the satisfaction.

They weren't routed, far from it, but the sheer panic you were sending with your magics and the cries of 'djinn', 'sorcerer', 'warlock', and other such honourifics gave you the greatest of all pleasures.

That did not mean that the day's fighting was done; you had already done most of the heavy lifting, and now it was time for your bodyguard to finish them off, for they would need their part in the day's shed of blood.

Roll a 1d100 [DC70] to finish off this minor inconvenience

Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>6346959

Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>6346959

Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>6346959
Sweep em up, boys.

Almost like an afterthought, your cavalry swept over them like a sandstorm; their ranks were still reeling from the fireball you had shot at their leadership, and so there was no doubt as to the outcome, now was there?

Blood was spattered upon the sands; men were cut down or stabbed. And so they were scattered to the four winds, with you ordering your own troops to reel back, for this you needed your escort for the expedition to be.

The desert was a dangerous place, for aside from the threat of man, there were things lurking in the dunes. Over the dunes you went once more, across the dark red mountain chains that provided your troops with the bare minimum in shade.

Where or what this Ereb-Tum city is supposed to be, you didn't know. You did pick up the smallest hint from when you murdered Shahut, though that didn't help you as much as you had hoped.

So it was like stumbling about in the dark; with the scant few hints and other directions, you spend time trudging through the unforgiving desert landscape. Where was it? Where would it be? Your dark robes began to be warm even by your standards, but you paid it no heed; you could reach into lava with your bare hands.

But find it you eventually did, near a small mountain range, which kept it out of the worst the desert had to offer, close to a lake which sprang from said mountain. There was a small hamlet, but behind it, the ruins of old towered disapprovingly over its inheritors. Great ziggurats loomed, and lesser towers and temples did likewise; time may have beaten down the colonnades and the galleries, yet the greatest and simplest things still stood.

"What manner of place is this, that once had so much life yet now lies as a corpse beside the lake?" Erassyl openly pondered to herself, Though you did answer.

"The desert giveth, and the desert taketh. Such is life out here; every civilisation built here is temporary, which shall always be swallowed up by that which gave it life in the first place." You duly explained.

You stood in front of one of the ancient gates; upon it were depictions of various things: kings, armies, nobles, and creatures of old. All imprinted upon greenish tiles, though most had been dirtied or damaged beyond repair.

You took a step inward, through a gate that seemed to cough and creak like an old man with one foot in the grave. There were no men here; they stayed within the hamlet. The only living things prowling the streets were vultures, jackals, and other scavengers. Though your scent made all animals flee as they caught a whiff of your presence.

The streets were open and wide, and there was much for you to explore, it would seem.

>To the temple-ziggurats, I wish to see what's left.
>To the tombs, time to reunite that family
>To the palaces, royalty usually keeps the good stuff.

>>6347620
>To the tombs, time to reunite that family
Let us plunder their grave goods.

>>6347620
>To the tombs, time to reunite that family

>>6347620
To the tombs, time to reunite that family

File: In the tomb.png (1.42 MB, 1080x1007)

1.42 MB PNG

At first, you and your party spend the first day wandering about the city; the ruins of old had mostly been picked dry and clean, and the copper braziers had been stolen by someone. Elsewhere statues had long since been toppled, and homes lay in ruin. You stopped by some old smithy, where there was naught but some dug-up tablets of clay; everything else of use had been taken. It was there that you announced to the rest of the group what you were here for.

"The tomb I initially led you towards was that of a cheat, coward, and traitor; in his last attempted swindle, he even attempted to deceive me, an insult for which I struck him down forevermore." The reaction was one of understanding, with them murmuring about how now your burning of that corpse made sense.

"And when I cannot find wergild from a man such as he, I shall obtain it from his kin instead," you declared, your eyes firing with disdain for this king and his entire civilisation.

The tombs of the kings, their families, and other retainers were near the centre of the old city, close to both the palaces and the ziggurats, in long since dried gardens, now dour and dry. It was no pyramid or great mountainside hall within which one would then be buried.

A small squat structure above ground with a few pillars and some brass bulls guarding the entrance; to your surprise, they weren't melted down. Nor was the heavy stone keeping the place shut. The entrance was sealed with an intricate lock, untouched by time and thieves alike.

The men did the same trick as they had pulled with Shahut's tomb. One dagger in the lock, one twist, and the ancient door creaked open, revealing a chamber filled with treasures untouched for centuries. The air was thick with dust, and the entrance hall, though empty of all luxuries, was still rich in tiles and marble flooring. In the centre there lay a stair which led down towards the actual tombs.

You descended first, your black robes dragging along as your followers came close behind. Erassyl came second; the rest would be allowed to rob and plunder the non-magical compartments of the tombs, for you knew that the greed of men would buy their gratitude and loyalty even more.

Unfortunately, a great many corridors or tombs themselves had been crushed under the weight of the ground above them. The air was as musky and dusty as ever, and the men were having some trouble igniting the torches, something you had to eventually help with by using your own fire.

>>6348047
By reading the cuneiform tablets and the inscriptions on the walls, you were able to find the tomb you wanted to find. The tomb of Ukzut-Nezzar, the rightful heir of Ereb-Tum, Shahut's hated nephew, who had been overthrown and then returned to kick Shahut off the throne.

There within were buried two oxen, two horses, a war chariot, some slaves, and a vast array of treasures, including gold jewellery, precious gemstones, and intricate weapons. Most of these weapons had been blunted and rusted beyond use, and their enchantments had long since worn off.

But you did sense one thing. From within the sepulchre proper, there came the ever-faint trace of magical energy, immediately senseable to one such as you. You ordered the casket opened; therein lay the withered corpse of Ukzut, he who had driven his tyrannical uncle from the throne.

Around him lay the caskets of some of his wives and sons who didn't become kings, but they weren't relevant for you, you had your eyes on the prize.

>A staff tipped with an intricate ruby, pulsing with a faint magical aura.
>A girdle of gold, adorned with ancient cuneiform.
>An effigy of a long-dead god.
>A vase, carried by a bronze goat

>>6348048
>>A staff tipped with an intricate ruby, pulsing with a faint magical aura.

Casting tool get.

>>6348048
>A staff tipped with an intricate ruby, pulsing with a faint magical aura.

>>6348048
>A girdle of gold, adorned with ancient cuneiform.
Mmmm, girdle.

>>6348048
>A girdle of gold, adorned with ancient cuneiform.
This is the least obvious choice, but I think it could lead to greater dividends down the line.

>>6348048
>A girdle of gold, adorned with ancient cuneiform.

A girdle of gold, adorned with intricate engravings and shimmering gemstones, was a symbol of power and prestige among the ancient rulers. Crafted by skilled artisans. The cuneiform upon it was not damaged in the least. You leaned down into the sepulchre. King Ukzut wasn't exactly in the most preserved of states, so you rudely grabbed the girdle and tore it from his skeleton. It took you a while to figure out how you might put it on. Though you didn't actually start to wear it.

Enchanted it was, and you didn't know in what form. You held it in your hands; the cloth that had once belonged to it had long since disintegrated, leaving only the intricately designed girdle. As you examined it closely, a faint whisper seemed to emanate from the artefact, though you needed to peer closer to extract the information you desired from it.

You left the tomb and gave permission for your men to plunder it to their heart's content. The night you would spend in diligent study, with Erassyl as your only proper assistant. Indeed, under your ever-inquisitive eye and skilled hands, the secrets of the ancient artefact were revealed, and the enchantment upon it was one of warding. In other words, it could keep those who wore it safe from harm, up to a certain level, of course.

You suppose that would make sense for someone like Ukzut to possess one, considering who he kicked off the throne. A handy tool if someone needed to buy time from assassins or to fight in combat against dangerous foes.

As for what you would do with it, you weren't certain; you already have the artefact you obtained from Shahut, though you have refrained from 'eating' it just yet. That thing only stored magical energy, and none would shed a tear if it were gone. As for the girdle you weren't certain.

>I shall keep it for my own use. (Gain +5 DP from eating Shahut's amulet)
>I shall gift it to one of my loyal disciples. (Gain +5 DP from eating Shahut's amulet)
>I shall feast as a king this eve. (Gain +10 DP)

>>6348485
>I shall keep it for my own use. (Gain +5 DP from eating Shahut's amulet)
We can always regift it later, if we’re sending a minion into a sticky situation.

>>6348485
>I shall keep it for my own use. (Gain +5 DP from eating Shahut's amulet)
Our reign is inevitable, all the same, we would prefer not to spend another seven millennia in total isolation.

>>6348485
>I shall keep it for my own use. (Gain +5 DP from eating Shahut's amulet)

>>6348485
>>I shall feast as a king this eve. (Gain +10 DP)
Increasing our DP would be very useful right now. Currently, with 15 DP, we're a hair short of being able to use 2 fireballs at a time. With 25 DP, we'd be able to use 3 fireballs. Personally, I trust our dark magic far more than I trust some enchantment.

>>6348485
>I shall keep it for my own use. (Gain +5 DP from eating Shahut's amulet)

This girdle shall serve you well in the times to come, while you aren't yet at the heights of your physical prowess. The warding enchantments encased within will deter most stray arrows or blows that make their way to you. It has its limits, of course: a proper swing with a warhammer, catapult stone or powerful magic may still break through its defences. But for the average skirmish or bandit attack, this girdle will provide adequate protection.

What does puzzle you, however, is whether it will go with the roughspun black robes you have been wearing and whether it will fit around your waistline. While you had been able to encase your shadowy form into a walking silhouette, you weren't certain whether your lanky form will be able to fill the size of the girdle, but what with being a master smith, you would probably be able to fix it later.

But enough of that; it is time to rid this world of Shahut, not only in his form but also his property. You take a look at his amulet. You take off one of your gauntlets. Your thin, long, spindly fingers, more talons than human digits, wrap themselves around the gem embedded in the centre of the amulet. Cracks start to show; with your other hand, you prick into the gem with your razor-sharp fingernail, boring deep into the stone, then you begin to suck it dry. Light emanates from the gem, brighter and brighter, until it fizzles out, the stone crumbling into dust.

A succulent meal; power once dissipated fills your body once more, and a pleasurable feeling long denied from you returns in diminished form. It is thus time for you to return and continue your main project for the foreseeable future, the conquest and consolidation of the desert into a realm able to support your interests.

"Let us return; there is naught here but peons gnawing and chewing upon the bones of their ancestors. They're fallen, and under my sway they shall fall regardless."

The village nearby had kept quiet. Which was good, for you ignored it, favouring a swift return to your provisional base of operations.

The return journey was as arduous on your following as it ever was, but the sands kept quiet. Rumours about a sorcerer clad in black terrorising bandits were spreading throughout the desert, and you knew full well that they were based on you.

File: Effects of blood magic.png (245 KB, 1292x944)

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>>6349207
Not much had changed during your short absence; the idol to the snake god had been expanded, and a small domed building had appeared close by, a first temple. Tribute was still collected at the idol, including something very quaint, a gilded palanquin. Big enough for one person, you being you, you of course took it for your own. A trip through the village streets while being carried by four slaves reminded you of happier times.

As for your other two foremost disciples, Samarda and Nafiri had continued their duties as you had intended. The former as your administrator and the latter as the high priestess of your cult, though with it coming in the open, it was beginning to take on the form of a more conventional religion.

As for the two themselves, the effects of your teaching them forbidden magics had begun to collect their due; one of Nafiri's eyes had turned red, and her skin turned pallid. Samarda's eyes showed red cracks through the black irises, and streaks of white began to appear in otherwise dark hair. You had warned them beforehand, not that they cared; they saw it as a gift from their 'god'. Side effects, as far as they were concerned.

That reminded you that you were effectively immortal, and if need be, you could always retreat back into the necklace you had lent to Samarda. Those two wouldn't live long enough for your long-term plans; only Mortharn and Erassyl probably would. At the end of the day, those two were not nearly able enough in blood magic to extend their short mortal lives.

>Oh well, cycle of life and all that; they can be replaced, either with their descendants or someone else.
>Long-term planning requires long-term minions. If need be, I'll drip-feed them the knowledge.
>The obvious solution to human mortality is to stop being human, in one way or another.

>>6349208
>Long-term planning requires long-term minions. If need be, I'll drip-feed them the knowledge.
The lives of mortals matter little to us, but what do we have if not our dominion? If they remain useful, they're worth keeping around if for no other reason than that they were among the first of our second attempt.

>>6349208
>Long-term planning requires long-term minions. If need be, I'll drip-feed them the knowledge.

>>6349208
>Long-term planning requires long-term minions. If need be, I'll drip-feed them the knowledge.

>>6349208
>Oh well, cycle of life and all that; they can be replaced, either with their descendants or someone else.

Ultimate domination is something that must be worked towards; open conquest attracts too much attention, and this desert backwater won't be able to bring down the various western and eastern kingdoms all by themselves. That requires more than one, but at the same time, you need to have subordinates who are able to oversee this realm if ever you find yourself abroad, either to establish another client kingdom or for when you have found just the right spot for your personal demesne.

Erassyl won't be able to do it for you; she's too much an outsider. Samarda and Nafiri are natives, and local collaborators are always more trustworthy and effective in maintaining control.

But mortal they still are, confined by their own human lifespan. Obviously, you would much rather deal with known loyal minions, especially if the alternative is working with their descendants, who might not wish to do so, or with other strangers. No, you would begin to teach them some unearthly techniques involving blood, magic, and a boiling cauldron.

Bathing in blood, especially the type that flows in the veins of the youngsters, has been known to rejuvenate those who drop themselves in it; the boiling part is also good for your skin or whatever. You don't really have a skin, and bathing in blood was never really part of your modus operandi.

To that end, from brass and steel you wrought a cauldron capable of rather quick heat conduction and magical properties, perfect for the task at hand. It would keep them young for as long as they made use of it; what it wouldn't do was reverse the effects of their magic use. But that was something neither you nor they really cared about.

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>>6349747
You also taught them a few spells concerning the leeching of blood and how to mingle their own blood with other creatures to improve their own abilities. While they practised what you taught, you retired once more deep within your set of laboratories and smithies, for there was much more to do.

With the subjugation of a quarry capable of producing quality sandstone, new opportunities for building would soon be opened, once enough of the stone was gathered, of course. And a good thing too; your infant realm was surely beginning to properly coalesce. While once you would have been able to coordinate from within the set of village houses, the infant state would need more. Thus, upon a nearby rocky plateau, the foundations and dungeons for a new fortress were to be laid, circular, with a central tower from which you could better oversee these matters. But it would take a while to properly construct such a stronghold, and in the meantime, further conquests were ahead.

With your weakening of the various bandit clans, the various sultans, emirs, and sheikhs have been able to regain some form of control over the previously lawless desert. Someone else was benefiting from your own work, and it perturbed you greatly. Your warband could take on bandits, but you hadn't tested nor probed the might of the desert princes. This would be a scramble, and one you intended to win.

Ledger

2 Building materials (+2 per turn)
6 Wealth
2 Iron (+2 iron per turn.)
1 Elixir

If you march upon one of the coloured-in provinces that aren't red, it will be war.

Warband actions
>March upon the remaining iron mine, and have the other warband conquer the land in between.
>March upon the gem mine.
>Consolidate as much desert as you can, without ticking off the others.
>March upon the other quarry.
>Take the uncontrolled lake, so I might pour the elixir in.
Bandit actions won't provoke actions unless they get caught.
>Raid an iron caravan
>Raid the gem mines
>Assist in operations
>Have them run drugs into the sultanate.
>Raid a quarry

>>6349748
>March upon the remaining iron mine, and have the other warband conquer the land in between.
>Have them run drugs into the sultanate.

>>6349748
Excellent progress, so far.

>>6349971
I agree with this. We can't let the second iron mine fall into the desert princelings' clutches. If we are to stand against them in the battlefield, we'll need a great many cult-soldiers, and for that, we'll need as much iron as there is to be had. In the meantime, perhaps we can subvert them? I'd rather sink more research into the lotus. Mindbending drugs could be a poisoned dagger in the hearts of their people.

>>6349748
>March upon the remaining iron mine, and have the other warband conquer the land in between.
>Have them run drugs into the sultanate.

When the Sultan's emirs and other nobles retreated from this region, the bandit clans and other nomadic groups filled the gap once filled by the various lords of the desert. Now, with you successfully destroying one bandit clan after the other, they return to the region. Their sapped strength is becoming able to assert power in the region, not because they grow stronger, but because their rivals have been weakened by your actions.

Simply put, in terms of actual confrontation, you would most likely lose; these are states with properly organised systems who can, in theory, mobilise greater numbers of troops and mercenaries than you can hope to. Of course, the actual war shall come, but only when your troops, state, and spy networks are ready.

First, you would need to claim as many resources in this desert as possible without stepping on the others' toes. In this, you put the securing of the remaining iron ore fields as your top priority.

One warband will secure the iron mines for you; this will, in turn, allow you to scale up the production of arms & armour, with which you could then upsize and expand the military.

To further bind and secure these mines to your demesne, you would send the other warband to secure and clean up the remaining patches of empty desert to keep delivery bandit-free.

As for your own criminal arm, it would once more run some of the drugs you produce in your alchemical lab to one of their cities. The product itself is of middling quality, popular with labourers and slaves. You would need more exotic ingredients to make it more addictive and harmful. If such a narcotic can be refined, you predict that the various desert kingdoms will be weakened in their ability to resist your influence.

Both warband ceremonies paraded around the snake idol and asked the high priestess for their blessing before marching off. Your own bandits had been sent in the night; their careers weren't glorious enough to warrant a proper send-off. You turned away, for while your minions would be away, you had taken it upon yourself to personally oversee the raising of the first of many fortresses.

Roll a 2d100 for both operations.

DC75 for the drug smuggling

DC60 for the iron mines

Rolled 11, 31 = 42 (2d100)

>>6350300

Rolled 34, 27 = 61 (2d100)

>>6350300

Rolled 96, 23 = 119 (2d100)

>>6350300
rollan. fingers crossed for no critfail

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It was raised in a relatively quick matter; the construction quotas for the slaves had to be increased, and the labour itself had to be augmented with raised carrion, for undead skeletons could work longer and harder, as long as the task wasn't too complex. Your living slaves would do the more complicated tasks like the vaulting and intricate details that required finesse and precision. This fortress would in many ways be a prototype, serving as both your first overlord's tower in millennia and the nexus of your administration and military. The walls were thick, the sandstone a dark brown yellow. The windows were small and the halls cool, the dungeons cooler still. There would be more of these if you were to both control the desert and wage war upon your neighbours; you would need fortresses to double as depots, water stations, and strategic outposts.

It wasn't finished by any metric; you had ordered there be luxurious quartz mosaics and other such opulent decorations to be added, for your subject would be kept in line doublefold if they kept you in both dread and awe. But you moved the laboratories, smithies and other facilities within its walls. You didn't like prying eyes, not even those who were most loyal to you.

You looked down into the courtyard, where slaves were pulling in a marble statue of their snake god, to greet those who came through the main gates.

The warbands had returned in triumph, the desert ore fields were at your command, and a garrison was being installed near the most productive mines. The routes to and fro were also cleared and would be kept clear for the foreseeable future. You thus gifted the captains of these hosts a scimitar each, for the carrot will come before the stick with success.

As for your own bandits and criminal agents, the drug run was a success, but the markets were drying up, and they had to sell at lower prices than usual. (+1 Wealth) A paltry sum, one which would pale once the new product was refined, of that you were certain.

>>6350539
Interestingly, there are reports, both from your warbands, criminal agents, and other sources, that the veil of secrecy you had drawn over your realm was slowly beginning to fade. Some merchants from neighbouring states had been petitioning your captains for the purchase of ore. They had the good sense to turn them down and also let them go, as you had instructed them to not cause any incidents just yet.

The black-and-red serpent banners were beginning to clue neighbouring sultanates in as to what was happening in a previously irrelevant backwater. You weren't ready to wage war on all three simultaneously. This would be a long game, a game played both on the battlefield and in the backrooms; your snake cults already acted as a spy network, and among the many princelings the sultans fathered there would always be a rotten few rotten or spoiled fruits. But for now, you would play the part of the upstart king, bring order and law to your lands, and bide your time until the perfect moment to strike.

That does beg the question: the realm has but one master, and you are he, but would you openly proclaim yourself sultan or king? Perhaps a puppet ruler would be more prudent, one who at the very least looks human from the outside. Aside from that, you should decide whether you should mould it into a more traditional monarchy or perhaps make it a theocracy.
>I shall head this state myself, formally and openly.
>Proclaim Samarda as the new Sultana or Malika, while you run things behind the throne.
>Acclaim Nafiri as archpriestess of a theocracy, while you manage affairs from behind the altar.
>Just pluck someone off the street, someone capable of eloquence but not of thinking.

You should also give it a name, so men may utter it in fear when the time comes.
>Al-Abraj
>Harlith
>Shuragaz
>Urguz
>Khoria

>>6350540
All in due accordance to our plans. We've amassed a proto-state under ourselves and with it, all the iron we'll need to face the sultanates on the field of battle. The last step is laying the formalities to rest.

>Just pluck someone off the street, someone capable of eloquence but not of thinking.
It is far too soon for us to be exposed, and both our bearer and priestess have better things to do than wrestle the minutia of rule. Besides that, the brazen signs of blood magic could risk a jihad. Let us grab some sinister-seeming yet eloquent fool and give our foes a false target to vent their frustrations on, a canary for assassins, if you will.

>Shuragaz
There's no logic in this one, I just think it sounds the best when shouted.

>>6350540
>Proclaim Samarda as the new Sultana or Malika, while you run things behind the throne.
Evil Vizier, you guys, its a classic!

>Shuagaz

>>6350540
>Proclaim Samarda as the new Sultana or Malika, while you run things behind the throne.
>Shuagaz
snake vizier

>>6350540
>Just pluck someone off the street, someone capable of eloquence but not of thinking.
>Shuragaz

>>6350823
+1

>>6350540
>Proclaim Samarda as the new Sultana or Malika, while you run things behind the throne.
>Shuagaz

1: Proclaim Samarda as Sultana or Malika

2: Just pluck someone off the street

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>6350889
Forgot the dice

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After pondering it for a while, you did make a promise to Samarda, something about making her malikat almalakat, a queen of queens. In ordinary circumstances, you would never keep to your promises unless it directly benefited you. But in this case, it did. And so, upon a cool desert night, you summoned her to your inner sanctum.

"As thou knowest, I am a just god, and thus, for thy service and continued loyalty, I shall make good upon the promise I made in the deserts when first we formed our pact," you declared to Samarda, as she knelt before you in awe.

"From this day forth, you shall be acclaimed as the Sultana and Malika of the sultanate of Shuagaz; in keeping with local traditions, thou shalt be known as Samarda Al-Shuagaz. My trust in thee shall be known through this; do not disappoint me." You formally declared.

"I thank you, from the deepest depths of my heart, for this great honour you endow me with, oh great god," Samarda replied, tears of gratitude shining in her eyes.

"Thou shouldst know I do not intend to completely surrender my governance of this realm, but as before, thou shalt be both my face and bookkeeper. I shan't completely shirk from view, but there are things I must do that require my absence from time to time. And I require capable lieutenants to manage affairs while I regain my power and strength. Nafiri shall serve as both your priestess and second in this matter; there shall be war soon, for I wish to gain complete mastery over these lands. Now leave, for tomorrow you shall be formally acclaimed.''

That wasn't all you needed to do; when night fell, you retired to the depths of the still-constructing stronghold to forge a mask of gold, for you did not wish to spook any fogering dignitaries with your visage. You also had your personal tailor procure a set of silk and satin, rather than the roughspun you usually wear.

The gold mask you would wear with a wrapping of black silk and a turban on top, so you would integrate even more into the cultural picture most have of courts in this region. Upon the day itself, the village was in a state of jubilation; golden thread serpents adorned red banners instead of the usual black and red. Nafiri formally anointed and proclaimed Samarda as the sultana and malika of the new realm; you lent out your gilded palanquin for the occasion as she was paraded through the streets up to the fortress.

She had been adorned in a heavy set of jewels, cloth and makeup for the occasion, and she clearly sweltered. You weren't there for the occasion, as you were busy fitting the mask and other robes upon your still lanky form.

>>6350905
In the weeks thereafter you watch from above as the foreign and domestic court visitors come and go, and on occasion you come out from behind the curtains to whisper something into her ear or to glare menacingly at whoever drew your eye.

With the formal part now complete, you could proceed with the next step of your plan in the coming month and years.
>Our drug production shall sap the lifeblood from out of our enemies; thus, I shall engineer a new one.
>Divide et impera: the powers of these regions have never united against the shadow; a few incidents shall keep them distracted.
>There are mountains to the north of us, where the trolls, orcs and goblins still reside. I shall begin mustering their manpower.
>The dead shall serve me; I must go to the tombs and begin raising a great host of bones.

>>6350906
>Our drug production shall sap the lifeblood from out of our enemies; thus, I shall engineer a new one.
It is better that we weaken our foes than set them against each other, although both are of immense importance.

>>6350906
>Our drug production shall sap the lifeblood from out of our enemies; thus, I shall engineer a new one.

>>6351207
+1

File: Political map.png (663 KB, 3370x2028)

663 KB PNG

Drugs, or narcotics, as the alchemists are wont to call them, are both the poison that shall cripple your enemies and the lifeblood that shall finance your armaments programme. There would be few, if any, consequences to the production of the ingredients and refinement, for you had the protection of the state.

Thus, you ramped up production, and you instructed Samarda to begin building great irrigation works, while you began to summon cold rain from the northern mountains to water the poppy fields. Using your arcane gifts and a few thousand slaves, you also began hollowing out water reserves in the mountains. For long-term use, many more things were to be built and expanded upon: warehouses, toolsmiths, laboratories and housing for the labourers.

Empire would require logistics, and you were ensuring that yours would be ready for the great war over the desert that would come in the coming century, for you could wait, wait for very long. If you were too successful, and the sultans would unite, you would turn back and slam shut the gates of your empire, leaving them to forget with time the threat your empire could pose.

Indeed, with a procured map, you spend evenings alone, plotting and planning the next step, for all who walked the sand would once more owe their souls to the Great Monarch Serpent Of The Night , as your full title as snake god went. And you would choose your target with utmost care.

Of the neighbouring states, Minatyr was of too much use for you to attack, for they kept the demons at bay; the Shahdom of Nizar extended too far east for you to take with a realistic timetable. Hyria would be a logistically difficult target and would probably draw in the West too early. The dearest still lay open, and it was there that you would strike. Three sultans or grand emirs would make for targets, and while all three would sample some of the Shuragazian export, one in particular would receive your most potent products…

>>6351511
The Azamoranids are the main power in the region and also form both the biggest threat and the biggest market for your state, though according to your spies, they're in the phase where the sultans are playthings of the viziers. Though your snake cult hasn't been able to reach into the upper echelons of government yet, you do get some details drip-fed.

The Jayidanids are the smallest, and while they don't make for the juiciest of targets, they do control a good chunk of the routes that don't run through your lands. Still, they are a hardy and able desert dynasty, led by a set of able warrior kings. As they had whittled down banditry so hard that before your takeover, most preferred their longer but safer routes.

Lastly, the Qudininds lay in the east and formed the main suppliers of materials and slaves from out of the southlands, having a monopoly on the ivory trade on land, with them only competing with the Rashadans who sell on the seas. The Qudinids are slavers too, exporting the men and other humanoids of the uttermost south for coin over the desert thanks to their connection to the kingdoms of the savannah and the jungle.

With your research complete, you began drawing up orders for a plan of attack and subversion.

>The Azamoranids are the greatest power there; they must be weakened for us to move.
>The Jayidanids are the penultimate thing between us and the sea, it must fall.
>Ethnic tensions are always easy to exploit, and the Qudininds are a powder keg.

>>6351512
>The Jayidanids are the penultimate thing between us and the sea, it must fall.
Let's get our feet wet before we go diving in. While the Azamoranids must fall sooner or later, if need be their viziers won't be too hard to corrupt, and the Qudininds are already driven by greed. The Jayidanids are the only sultanate without a clear moral weakness we can exploit and that in mind I think it would be best to take them off the board first.

>>6351512
>Ethnic tensions are always easy to exploit, and the Qudininds are a powder keg.

>>6351512
>Ethnic tensions are always easy to exploit, and the Qudininds are a powder keg.

>>6351512
>>Ethnic tensions are always easy to exploit, and the Qudininds are a powder keg.
we will put their slaves under new management (ours) and strengthen our forces

The Qudinind Grand Emirate stretches out from the border along your own realm over the desert routes to the southern savannahs and jungles, where it trades with the petty kings and chiefs for slaves and war beasts. The wealth that flows through these routes is obviously immense; weapons and other baubles make their way down south, and slaves, elephants, and other exotic goods make their way back up north.

These are the main ethnic groups of note: the Kharodarians, the people who live in the northern parts and the cities, who as a group dominate nearly all of the desert. Your own subjects are primarily of this group, though in terms of culture and dialect they do differ. Second are the Masdrubalians, native to the southern coasts and the mountains there, having been driven into the hinterlands by the Kharodarians a very long time ago; now they mostly live as pastoral herders in the highlands or as middlemen for the Kharodarians. Lastly, there are the slaves, taken from a variety of different southern tribes. They don't really share a common name; most either serve as labour or as slave-soldiers, as determined by their masters.

As for infiltration, your snake cults are a primarily urban-based organisation, and as such have no inroads in the petty kingdoms upon the savannah, nor with the Masdrubalians. Some of them do partake in the slave trade, but primarily in buying in from the actual caravans and then selling to the highest bidder in the cities. Word has been sent that they should prepare warehouses to store and distribute your new drugs, which are to be sold in an attempt to weaken the Qudindinds.

Their military is obviously slave-based, with various vassal clans and regular troops providing a core to what otherwise would be an army made entirely of slaves. The Masdrubians from the skirmishing and archery corps, the slaves, the bulk of the infantry, and the Kharodarians have selfishly claimed the most prestigious positions within their armies. As far as politics go, the current Grand Emir has clamped down on dissent and other forms of opposition, using fear and intimidation to maintain control over the population. He has also been able to secure hostages from various noble clans for their continued loyalty and has introduced a harsher penal code for slaves, while simultaneously barring Masdrubians who can't speak Kharodarian from holding public offices.

While the drugs will obviously undermine the Qudininds, you see that there is more opportunity to be had.
>Have your own bandits start to raid some outlying villages to test their response.
>Travel to the cities incognito, so you may coordinate the snake cults with infiltration.
>Travel to the highlands and the coasts, so you may rile up the Masdrubians.
>I shall go southward, to the lands of elephants, lions, and tribesmen, to arrange for an alliance there.

>>6352166
>Travel to the cities incognito, so you may coordinate the snake cults with infiltration.
Going to the tribelands is tempting but it has been too long since we got back in touch with our cult.

>>6352166
>I shall go southward, to the lands of elephants, lions, and tribesmen, to arrange for an alliance there.

>>6352166
>Travel to the cities incognito, so you may coordinate the snake cults with infiltration.
inner city

>>6352166
>I shall go southward, to the lands of elephants, lions, and tribesmen, to arrange for an alliance there.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

1: City tour
2: Safari

>>6352512
The cult can wait. This'll be fun.

South, to a Wlandean, you would already be pretty southward; this desert is great and hot and nears the warmest places in the world. But you are old, older than the Wlandeans even as a people. There exists a south beyond the desert, a land of open flat savannah and dark jungles teeming with life. Here elephants, lions, zebras and other such animals none of the men of the west may have ever seen trekked hither and thither. The jungle was a different matter altogether, though you did hope there would be something there that you could use.

The men there are dark of skin and frizzy of hair, and, from what you have heard, they are ruled by small chiefdoms that sustain themselves off taming warbeasts, slavery, gold mining, and the ivory trade.

It was there where you would go; if you could cut off the Qudininds from their main supply of income while your puppet state attacked it, you would be able to cripple their economy while ravaging whatever resources they had left. While you were there, you could take the time to take a look around for some of the stuff the local tribesman wouldn't have the eye or sophistication to grasp that some precursors might have left behind.

And so you got to packing; you handpicked the most able and discreet of your soldiers, picked the most durable camels, and then you would set off with Erassyl in tow once more, mostly because you suspect those two might get rid of her while you are away. Mortharn wouldn't come; his heavy armour frame would catch too much attention. To keep in tab, you did make a pair of magical mirrors, which would show one person to the other and vice versa. one smaller collapsable mirror for you and a larger one to be hung in Samarda's personal quarters. While telepathic messages sufficed for shorter orders, when you needed to confer or instruct in full, this would be preferable.

The first two weeks of travel went along swimmingly; thanks to your measures, banditry had plummeted. Here and there the pecked and rotten crops of some outlaw hung nailed against a red desert cliff. You crossed the border unseen, there being no man or patrol around for hundreds of miles, for you knew that in the sand you would be truly alone, together with your most elite of followers.

Quiet you wished for this journey to be, for this was but the journey; when you would arrive on the savannah proper, you would scout out suitable allies for you to align. Once they were in place, you could either create an economic crisis or, even better, stage a two-pronged assault.

But for now you would be trudging along; you still walked. Your touch being as deadly as it was meant you didn't want to kill all the camels, while the rest kept to their own camels. And during the evening rests, you once more turned your attention to Erassyl, who, while you had taken her under your wing, had been taught little.

Being an elf, she has a more magical inclination than either Samarda or Nafiri and can thus be taught more of it without it ripping apart her body. Elves have always been a precious resource, both as your enemies and the scant few you managed to bring under your sway. And perhaps it was time you restarted a tradition of old.

>Start giving her the same lessons about blood magic.
>Necromancy shall once more come in handy.
>With an elf, I can begin teaching the proper stuff.
>No, she is unworthy and may not share in my wisdom.

>>6352526
>With an elf, I can begin teaching the proper stuff.
Ah, such nostalgia...

>>6352526
>With an elf, I can begin teaching the proper stuff.

>>6352526
>With an elf, I can begin teaching the proper stuff.

Elves were precious little creatures, a precious resource for you to have. In your time, there were never many of them who fell under the shadow, but the scant few that did were among your most favoured. Elves were unlike humans; men needed to be born with the innate ability to wield and harness magic; those that didn't would wither and die, unless measures were taken. Measures which you had given to both Samarda and Nafiri, though they would eventually reach a cap. All elves possess an innate connection with the world around them, though the ability is often dormant depending on the ancestry of the elf.

One night, as Erassyl lay sleeping, you reached out to her spirit; like an unborn star, her magical potential lay dormant. All that would be required was the slightest of sparks, which you provided with but the slightest flash of dark power; it burst forth like a supernova, awakening her to the true extent of her magical abilities. While the darkness settled itself deep within her heart, she wouldn't change, not immediately at least, but it did give you even more leverage over her.

She woke up, eyes glowing with newfound magical power, though your glare made her calm down before she could blow up the camp with her still untrained powers.

"My first gift to thee, elfess, I shall train thee in it as well." You looked down upon her; while elves were typically taller than the average man, you were no mere man, and you towered over most elves as well. She didn't respond, remaining in a near-comatose state while she barely kept herself on her feet. It took two minutes before she regained a semblance of consciousness.

"You, how did you, why did you—" She cut herself off as you walked in a circle around her. "Thou art mine, and though you and your kind are but a pale shadow of what once was a great race, the potential for greatness is still there; I merely awakened it. You are…valuable in a way those other two are not. They are my governors and regents, there to keep my realm running while I reclaim that which is mine. And thou shalt help me in that, for thou art bound to walk the earth, outcast, and I shall mould thee into my apprentice, and we shall begin shortly."

You were as harsh a teacher as ever; failure would be punished, and you fuelled her hate, malice, and misanthropy as you travelled ever southward. To be a true master, you would need for her to learn true darkness, the one that was burning with malice and as frigid as callous logic. Though few would ever truly be able to master both, and she teetered towards a more tranquil sort of malevolence as the lessons progressed.

As you went further southward, the heat intensified; you had to begin condensing the scant dew in the air to give the caravan something to drink or pull down a cloud to give some needed refreshment. You were on a special mission, after all, and you didn't want to err by stopping by any cities or oases for the time being.

And, after two months of travel, during which you made certain to speak with Samarda through the mirror at least once a week, the sand began to give way to the dry grass of the savannah. Strange creatures walked, some with long necks and stripes, others with horns and hooves, grazing peacefully in the distance. Lions prowled behind the tall grass, while in the rivers the crocodiles bided their time. Your followers looked around with bewilderment, but you had been in such a place more than once. You cast an aura of dread over the group; you did not wish to be disturbed by any creature while you were still adjusting to this strange land.

>Find the nearest village, and try to discern who the closest chief or king of note is.
>let the men hunt for skins and tusks, so you have a gift to ingratiate yourself.
>That stench, a few decades old but still lingering, only an orc or goblin could stink that much.

>>6352860
>Find the nearest village, and try to discern who the closest chief or king of note is.

>>6352860
>Find the nearest village, and try to discern who the closest chief or king of note is.
To play the game, we'll need to know where the pieces are.

>>6352860
>let the men hunt for skins and tusks, so you have a gift to ingratiate yourself.

A village on the savannah proved to be what you expected; nestled along the river there stood some simple huts of dried mud and thatched roofs. The villagers paid you much heed, for you came in with a large escort of camel riders. You weren't raiders, and to prove it, you ordered one of your men to trade some baubles with the locals so as to get a basic understanding. Because neither spoke the language, you stepped in as intermediary. From what you gathered, the local self-styled king, though in size he's more a chief, was a man by the name of Farbas.

His capital, Keshud, lay upon the central river delta a few days down south, an important trade hub for such things as gold dust, ivory, slaves, and hardwood. Farbas, as the village elder described him to you, was once a great hunter and warrior, but age and injury are starting to catch up with him; his many sons are already eyeing the throne.

You packed up once more and left in the direction you were told. There were no proper roads here, only trails over the endless grassy sea. Keshud proved to be a rather small settlement by your standards, but it probably was a metropolis compared to what counted as a village in these parts. The walls were raised out of mudbrick, and great pits to obtain the necessary clay for construction dotted the landscape. You went out exploring the first day, and the central square was where all things were sold, elephant tusks alongside pottery with patterns you found primitive.

The men and women here were black of skin, obviously, and the primary drink seemed to be some kind of leaf tea instead of alcohol. The royal palace annexe hillfort lay upon a hill, its gate open. You returned to your tent for the time being; you would make your introductions tomorrow, with a background you would make up over the course of the evening.

>I shall come as a merchant from far off, with baubles that might interest him.
>A learnt man, I shall come as a sorcerer, alchemist, physician and all other such scholarly pursuits.
>I shall be open and direct, announce myself as an emissary, and begin making inroads.
>The smith's guise I shall take to craft for him a jewel or weapon which he shall find dear.

>>6353246
>The smith's guise I shall take to craft for him a jewel or weapon which he shall find dear.
If it (almost) worked against a demon, it should do nicely against a chief.

>>6353246
>The smith's guise I shall take to craft for him a jewel or weapon which he shall find dear.
lord of gifts

>>6353246
>The smith's guise I shall take to craft for him a jewel or weapon which he shall find dear.

You donned yourself in the simple, just-off-white robes and garments of both a weary traveller and an able smith. You would go in alone, both to feign weakness, to ensure that you would be considered little threat, and so that it would be all the more surprising when the jaws would shut.

You slowly walked up the dry sandy hill, under the mudbrick gates of the outer wall, into the courtyard, and then to the straw-capped hall you supposed was the residence of the king. As you approached, you were halted by the two guards, who both wore little in terms of armour, only linen.

"State your business, stranger; King Farbas awaits no one without reason," one of the guards demanded, eyeing you suspiciously. You had brought another mask, mostly to prevent the mortals from freaking out from when they saw your true visage, and it worked here as well.

"I am but a humble craftsman from fields afar. I came to this land of gold to practise my trade, and I wish to offer it as tribute to mighty Farbas." It was about as heellicking as you were willing to get, and the two guards simply looked at each other, shrugged, and let you in.

The hall was adorned with tapestries, pelts, and gold; upon the wooden pillars hung the skulls of a variety of animals, and the throne was likewise built out of ivory, lion pelts, and gold. As you approached the throne, you noticed the decrepit figure upon it; it was Farbas.

He himself was wrapped in a variety of luxurious clothes, both from here and from afar, though they couldn't hide his age. His beard had turned wide, and from afar you could see his muscles had withered over time, though his faculties remained able, as he received your ceremonial courtesy.

"Who are you, masked men? There are tribes whose priests wore masks, but you don't seem to be that kind of man." His voice was reminiscent of a time long past, sharp but frail.

"I am but a travelling smith, great lord; the mask I wear is to hide a terrible disfigurement I obtained in my youth. I now travel the world, seeking to make works of art for those who deserve it." You tried to sound as humble and grovelling as you could.

He stroked his chin, "For free then? And I must only provide the materials?" You simply nodded. He chuckled. "I shall commission something then, for I am in need of something new, a-."

>Throwing spear
>Spear
>Sword
>Ring
>Necklace
>Crown
>Write-in

>>6353586
>Crown
What better tribute to a king? Mwahahahahaha.

>>6353586
>Ring
Classic

>>6353630
+1

"A crown!" he tried to continue before he was interrupted by a coughing fit, "I desire a new crown, smith, and I wish to have it before I am in my grave. Can you do that?"

"Yes, lord, that I can; I merely need a workshop for such a task." You knew that whatever they had for smithies wasn't up to the standards of the rest of the world, but that was nothing a little magic couldn't fix.

You were escorted out of the hall over to a small shack within the fortress with a kiln outside; slaves began to carry over heaps of gold and silver for you to work with. You disregarded the silver, for it made you sweat standing near it, so you had your men melt and dispose of it, while you focused on making it out of gold.

A basic gold hoop, upon which you would build further with decorations of ivory, gold, and gems. As for the enchantment you would weave in it, you knew that Farbas was old, and his insecurities were plain on display, so drawing upon dark magics, you began laying the basis of the proverbial curse within this crown.

>The hunt shall restore his youth, but only the hunt shall keep him young, and, eventually, he shall be half-beast, half-man, and full thrall.
>The crown shall extend his life and return his vigour, but he shall become crueller, greedier, and a slave to your will.
>It shall keep him alive, and no disease or poison would kill him, but it shall enfeeble him and ever so leave his mind open to your 'suggestions'.

>>6353839
>The crown shall extend his life and return his vigour, but he shall become crueller, greedier, and a slave to your will.
Need thinking servants

>>6353842
+1

>>6353839
>The crown shall extend his life and return his vigour, but he shall become crueler, greedier, and a slave to your will.

For four days and nights you forged the gold and wrought your magics deep within it, pouring in your will, your malice, and your desire to rule over all things under the sun; this crown was but a tool. A trinket which would make Farbas deliver you this heap of mud huts and tribesmen on a silver platter, but you could mould them into an empire worth your time, with them under your spell, invading the Qudininds. The final incantation echoed through the small chamber; the crown glowed with a sinister light, gems pulsing with power.

You put a velvet cloth over it, and Erassyal provided you with a cushion for you to present it upon. With you did later that afternoon, as you unveiled the crown, all the court looked upon it with envious desire, for all wished to have it, but only one could wear it. Farbas's tired old eyes glinted with avarice as the crown was given to him, and when he placed it on his head, nothing changed, not on the outside at least. For you listened, and you heard that his heartbeat beat like that of a young man once more. It would take him a few months or even years, if he was strong-willed, but he would come under your spell, and once he did, he would be the vehicle with which the savannah would be conquered and ruled in your name.

As for your reward, in spite of the fact that you did it for free, you were formally allowed to be a courtier of the royal court and were assigned a chamber in the royal hillfort. You didn't like it here; the room was small and primitive by your standards, not that it mattered since you wished to proceed with your other plans.

>Enough of this; I trust Farbas will conquer for me in due time. I shall return northwards.
>I will stick around for a bit, 'disappear' a few courtiers, and get the ball rolling.
>Further southward I must go, for the jungle still holds many secrets.

>>6354418
>I will stick around for a bit, 'disappear' a few courtiers, and get the ball rolling.
Part of the process. We have an eternity to conquer this world, we can afford to take our time.

>>6354418
>Further southward I must go, for the jungle still holds many secrets.

>>6354418
>will stick around for a bit, 'disappear' a few courtiers, and get the ball rolling.

As soon as he had placed the crown upon his head, Farbas had already made himself your slave; none in his court knew, of course, but that was of little matter. Within the months, you found yourself promoted from court smith to courtier to an advisor to the king. And you were allowed to whisper, and whisper you did, feeding Farbas lies and half-truths.

"Thy neighbours are weak, great king; it is time for a real man to take control over these lands and untie them."

As he started to walk, you poisoned his heart against his neighbours.

"Thy priest is a corrupt man; he pays no heed to the gods nor to the sacrifices they demand."

As he hunted, you turned his soul against the gods.

"Thy sons grow restless; they see your greatness is reinvigorating thee, and they plot, sire, they plot against mighty Farbas."

And finally, you turned his mind against his own blood.

"It is a poor thing, is it not, for so many within thy own court to be traitors? I can root them out; after all, I am your one true friend in this nest of vipers."

He might look younger, but he was wracked with paranoia and wrath. In his hunts, he had become more reckless, and scars riddled his body, but the crown made him tougher than most men, and for a year, you lurked in the shadows as he campaigned across the savannah upon a great elephant.

Various courtiers of note began to disappear; you corrupted the tea leaves of the priests, planted evidence to turn his sons against each other, and framed all his other advisors for treason. He executed them all himself, and you replaced them with men of your own choosing.

By now, hushes came over the grasses about Farbas the great, Farbas the conqueror, and Farbas the unkillable, for with every city he took, he seemingly died but always turned up later. With the south now ready to act in tandem with the north, all was nearly in place.
>I must go the Qudininds myself, and coordinate the snake cult into a fifth column
>I shall go south, for the rainforest still piques my interest.
>I will stay here and meet up with Samarda once we have crossed the desert.
>I will return to Shuagaz and give Farbas orders to shut down the slave trade for the coming decade or so, until I can control it myself.

>>6354785
>I shall go south, for the rainforest still piques my interest.
We spent eons in a featureless void. Of course we want to see how the world has changed!

>>6354785
>>I shall go south, for the rainforest still piques my interest.

>>6354785
>I shall go south, for the rainforest still piques my interest.

Farbas could handle himself for the time being. By now he was a bloodthirsty monster, clad in the pelts of slain lions, with the soul of a hyena; he could handle himself for the time being. No, you would go further south, to where the grassy plains of the savannah would give way to the dank jungles of the uttermost south. What lay beyond that was something you didn't know, nor did you need to know, for whatever lay there would be so primitive that you could probably return there to conquer it after you had laid low the actual threats to your power.

Still, the dense undergrowth did not deter you; it was here that one could find some of the most fierce of all the creatures upon the planet. On the edge lived the elephants, but you could get them from the savannah; there were apes, both of the greater and lesser stature, and leopards. Some of which could be trained for war; if your memories served you correctly, the poisonous frogs and toads of the area, as well as some of the spiders, could provide you with both poison and alchemical reagents for use in your experiments. What would also lurk in the rainforest was something else; in the heart of the jungle there lived a group of primitive lizardmen. You ignored them in your time, for you found them unintelligent and primitive, but rumours had always persisted that they once lived in cities of gold, though what expeditions you had sent either returned empty-handed or never came back. As for the lizardmen themselves, you used them to graft them together with humans into the beings known as the naga or lamia.

Vile creatures, half man and half snake, were grafted together in the dark pits under one of your fortresses. You had originally intended to use them as soldiers but found that they made for excellent upper management of the snake cult. After all, the fusion of man and snake was the perfect leader for a cult with 'snake' in its name.

You left behind you camels at a nearby village, where the local villagers traded with the tribesmen who provided them with slaves from rival tribes. A set of tools to head into the jungle was purchased, and you made the first forays into the humid, deep, and dark jungle. To keep your men from dying of the tropical diseases, you cast out your dark magics; you would make it unbearable for any mosquito to be in your presence, and you made certain that ill-willing bacteria and viruses were pressed on with relentless drive, as your men ate of the plantain for sustenance and drank from the clear streams that flowed through the dense foliage. The days were long, hot, and tiring, but you pressed on. Before too long you came upon a clearing, one which hadn't been visited in a long time. The jungle was crawling back in, but there was something.

>A skeletal remain, short and stout; only the beard remained.
>A crude idol, clearly wrought by orc hand.
>An obelisk of gold, with depictions of lizard priest-lords.

>>6355075
>An obelisk of gold, with depictions of lizard priest-lords.
Ah, we are in luck.

>>6355075
>An obelisk of gold, with depictions of lizard priest-lords.

An obelisk, like a giant rod of solid gold, as tall as a tree and with the girth of a large boulder, stood atop a pedestal of hewn stone. There were vines wrapped around it, but all in all, its inscriptions were still readable.

The inscriptions were highly stylised, but you could decipher them somewhat. Though you didn't have a ladder, you were able to discern it depicted the lizardmen in their war with either some giants or cyclopses; you weren't certain. Intricate drawings show the lizardmen riding their great reptile warbeasts into battle against great humanoid beings, though because of the sideways depictions, you couldn't quite make out the details of the enemy.

Both sides were armed with weapons most advanced compared to the primitive creatures both sides had devolved into. The lizardmen had devolved into half-tribal, half-feral jungle dwellers; the giants retreated into the mountains and became rare, even in your time; and the cyclopses were all rendered extinct. Which you did have a hand in.

Your men were practically salivating over the enormous piece of gold in front of them; Erassyl seemed unimpressed, but she was more knowing than your ever-disposable minions.

"Fascinating," you said more to yourself than to your following.

"Even in my time you were ancient, old, and capable of great things, but now you lizardmen have probably degenerated beyond recognition. It's a shame to see such a once-mighty race reduced to this." You finished off your monologue, for you tried to discern where the nearest temple-city might be. You doubted whether they could maintain such a structure when they had fallen so far.

Aside from that, you could also try to discern whether the lizardmen were still in the vicinity; it would be harder than normal, for the cold-blooded were always harder to sense than the warm-blooded.

You put your shadowy hand to your non-existent chin; if you reached and found a lizardmen village, it would be easy game to deceive them into giving you all you wanted, mostly even greater warbeasts, and flesh for your experiments.

On the other hand, the temple-cities would hold plenty of gold, even if others had taken chunks of it, but more importantly, there would be treasures of the arcane type.

>Reach out extra deeply with your ability to detect the lizardmen, for you needed their beasts for the war.
>Use your ability to sense metal to find a temple-city, for you could enhance yourself greatly with their secrets.

>>6355485
>Use your ability to sense metal to find a temple-city, for you could enhance yourself greatly with their secrets.

>>6355485
>Use your ability to sense metal to find a temple-city, for you could enhance yourself greatly with their secrets.

>>6355485
>Use your ability to sense metal to find a temple-city, for you could enhance yourself greatly with their secrets.

>>6355485
>>Use your ability to sense metal to find a temple-city, for you could enhance yourself greatly with their secrets.

>>6355485
Nobody else wants to resurrect the snake cult proper?
>Reach out extra deeply with your ability to detect the lizardmen, for you needed their beasts for the war.
So be it, we do need the magic and can always reach for lizardmen later.

You always did have a particular affection for metal; metal was much like you. It has many faces and fulfils many roles. You could melt it, work it, forge it, and shape it into something beautiful or strong; it could lay down your enemies low or build you great things. Metal was cold but hot when molten. And there were many forms you found your reflection in: iron, the bloodied weapons of war; steel, the backbone of industry; gold, the greatest temptress of men; and then there was silver, the holy metal, the one metal you abhorred and despised. Master over all things you might be, but true silver is as anathema to you as light is to darkness.

Still, you knew what to do. While the jungle was teeming with life, metal was usually more hidden, so a golden city-temple in the depths of the forest was easy to sense. You guided your minions forth, their eyes gleaming with greed. Though in this case they would need to smother their greed, you knew it would cost too much to transport, and there were more practical treasures at any rate.

You had taken into your hand a machete, a tool with which you cut through the jungle with ease, clearing a path. Such common labour was beneath you, but you derived small pleasure from hacking at the plant life, and while the blade was poorly made by your standards, you still found it relatively effective in its purpose.

For five days you hacked and slashed, while you inferior underlings, bound by your ever-frail mortal bodies, had to waste time on eating, sleeping, and resting. But you, with your immortal strength and determination, pushed forward relentlessly.

"Lazy mortals, you wouldn't have made it in the Black Guard nor the slave pits, but there shall come a day…" It's so lonely being the only person on the planet capable of proper intellectual conversation. You did once ponder splitting yourself in two but decided that you wouldn't share, not even with yourself. So you had to content yourself with monologueing.

But then, one morning, you came to the precipice, a shining city of gold, mighty and grand. It was completely devoid of any intelligent life, and the pyramids and towers had been long negleted, though they glittered like it was the height of the lizardmen empire.

Discipline nearly broke down as your men tried to pry loose the slabs and statues, but you shot a whip of darkness at them. Dogs aren't allowed off the leash unless their master lets them, and disobedience is punished accordingly.

You took them further inwards, spooking off the wildlife by flooding the area with high-pitched noise. The leopards fled, and the birds flew, as did many other animals. You toned it down a bit when you saw Erassyl had plugged in her ears. That would be impractical, after all.

You halted them by the central plaza, where once the great lizardmen priest-kings made their announcements to the people. The ruins towered above you, their ancient stones looking down upon the master of darkness and his puppets, ink stains upon pristine gold.

You looked around you; this city was strange to you, but you did know a few things about these cities and the staples they nearly always possessed.

>To the starchamber, the priest-lord conducted their rituals.
>The armouries hold technology beyond compare.
>The libraries here don't contain books, at least not in the conventional sense.
>To old hatching chamber and the pools of rebirth.

>>6355924
Hmm... more rituals could be of use on the strategic map, superior technology will strengthen our troops, magical knowledge is always great, and we could do wicked things with the rebirthing chambers. I'll support the armoury, as it a heap of metals wrought in many ways, and such a thing will be no doubt as fascinating as it is effective at scything down the many, many enemies we are soon to regain.

>The armouries hold technology beyond compare.

>>6355924
>To old hatching chamber and the pools of rebirth.

Rebiiiiirth you guys.

>>6355924
>To old hatching chamber and the pools of rebirth.

What place to start but the birthplace of many a lizardman? You were never really concerned with the reproductive aspect of the lizardmen, but you knew they hatched from an egg, about the size of a pineapple. You did your best to find the hatching chamber, for within lay another thing of great importance to you.

And so for days you made it through the great empty boulevards and pyramids of the lizardmen. Entering one of the larger pyramid-temples, you would find that which you were looking for. Along the murals depicting lizardmen, of which there were multiple varieties, hatching from their eggs, crawling out while growing scales and tails, and eventually reaching adulthood, they were then depicted as labouring and warring before walking into the pool of rebirth, starting the cycle anew.

Within the hatching chamber, it was hot, hotter than the jungle, as you sensed the enchantments that were supposed to keep this room at a comfortable level for the eggs and the young lizardmen.

Along the walls, there were the nests in which the eggs were kept, though they had long since withered; eggshells lay shattered around the room, and the skeletal remains of what you presumed to be the nurse lay in front of the thing you actually came for.

The water was pristine, kept within an intricately carved square pool in the middle of the chamber. It was here where the lizardmen would go once their death was nigh; they would dissolve within the water so they may reemerge as an egg and begin the cycle anew. It was for this reason the lizards were feared upon the field of battle, for a fallen comrade couldn't be reborn.

But that wasn't what you were interested in; no, you posited that you could improve your current frail form by reforming in the pool of rebirth so you might be reborn in full glory. Once you regained full form, you could work on regaining your shapeshifting abilities. But you weren't certain as to what would happen if you dropped in yourself; you didn't want to be locked into the form of a lizardman just yet. While it has its advantages, you knew it could make you even more of a sore thumb.

So, you took the safe approach; you plunged in your hand first. The water felt cool, and it felt like it was dissolving the crystallised shadow that was your form. It didn't hurt, strangely enough. You kept it in for four hours; that was the length of time it took for a lizardman to rehatch into an egg.

You took your hand out of the water; you saw that the five shadow tendrils on the thin hand had been transformed into the claw of a lizardman, with black scales on the outer side and soft skin on the palm. The claws made it unhandy for you to hold stuff; that was for certain, but as you pressed it against the floor, you felt not in the crude, stunted manner you had felt with your shadows, but proper feeling. And you dragged it along, eager to sense that which had been denied to you for so long.

Another hour later, the claw had returned to its shadowy form. You were exhilarated, you had a new hypothesis; now to put it to the test.
>Jump in myself; being an upright crocodile beats being a shadow!
>Throw in one of my men to see what effect this kind of effect has upon mammals.

>>6356194
I bet the magic is limited. It may be many moons before we get another chance like this.
>Jump in myself; being an upright crocodile beats being a shadow
Pure serpentine power! Also even more ecstatic snake cultists, but the biggest benefit here is an actual physiology. This will greatly benefit us in combat, and much of our subtler work is already done through intermediaries.

>>6356194
>Throw in one of my men to see what effect this kind of effect has upon mammals.
funny

>>6356194
>>Jump in myself; being an upright crocodile beats being a shadow!

There is only one real candidate to receive the pool's blessings, now is there? You might not be a lizardman, and you didn't know the effects of the water upon your form. But there was only one real reason to find out.

You took your robe off, revealing to the select audience in the room your true form, not that it would last, for you soon dipped into the pool. You felt yourself dissolve as you stepped deeper into the water, becoming like the ghost you were before, only now in a form like liquid, rather than the typical gaseous-like form ghosts kept themselves in.

You weren't really certain as to what would happen next; you drifted around for a while, though your eyes could see through the water and you felt the coolness against your form. It seemed deeper than you had anticipated. And you swam, for lack of a better term, ever deeper into the dark.

You would reach the bottom soon enough, you hoped, and when you did, you would coalesce into a being of proper form. Then, you felt the bottom, its stones scraping against the very essence of your being, and you felt your form reforming; your limbs started to reform, though you felt you were getting smaller and smaller. And you took a foetal position, feeling a sense of rebirth as you transformed into a new entity. Though what from you would take you, you didn't know, and that enraged you. You felt waves of sleepiness rush over your body, but your will could not be contained. You, and you alone, were master of destiny, and you would decide upon your form.

>Snub the snout, shorten the tail, so you might disguise yourself better
>Take a cobra-like form, but attach strong limbs and ambidextrous hands.
>Go all out, crocodile head, with a powerful, hulking body and razor-sharp claws.
>Bah! I reject your lizard form; I shall form myself into what I want! (Will lead to a hard DC check)
>No, I shall be the greatest reptile of all; my armour shall be like tenfold shields, my teeth like swords…. (Will lead to a very hard DC)

>No, I shall be the greatest reptile of all; my armour shall be like tenfold shields, my teeth like swords…. (Will lead to a very hard DC)

>>6356455
>>No, I shall be the greatest reptile of all; my armour shall be like tenfold shields, my teeth like swords…. (Will lead to a very hard DC)

>>6356455
>Go all out, crocodile head, with a powerful, hulking body and razor-sharp claws.

There was a creature, as scaly and as powerful as any lizardman, beyond their power actually. You knew risk in being reborn in such a matter, but it was your greatest chance to obtain a body worth your mind. And you began to coalesce. on purpose, you wrecked the initial shell of egg forming around you, and you tried to begin shaping yourself into a form worth your time. You began radiating as much dark energy as possible for you feared it failing, which would mean being trapped in an egg for months, or worse.

Roll a 1d100 (DC 25) The more succes you have, the larger you shall emerge, failure will mean you will be stuck in an egg.

Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>6356544
Let's get hatching boys!

Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>6356544

Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>6356544
rollan

EGG TIME

humpty dumpty rises anew

Eggscellent

Darkness crept back into the forests of the world. Rumor grew of a Egg in the South.

File: Your new home.png (62 KB, 372x450)

62 KB PNG

You felt yourself shrinking, being bound into the new form; your transformation was going swimmingly, the wings sprouted, your body elongated, and scales covered your skin. Your face began to take form once more; it became long, and you felt your teeth for the first time in many, many millennia, though you felt that your snout became elongated as well.

But then something went wrong; while you had been able to complete your transformation into a wyrm of old. You had been encased; the worst had happened. Dragon you were now, but you were stuck in a damnable gestation chamber known as an egg! If you could have howled, you would have done so, and you did very much try to do so. It was back to square one, stuck in a prison of your own making. If you remembered correctly, you would hatch in about a century or so, and even then you would only be an infant dragon, about the size of a dog.

You had rolled the dice, and you had rolled snake eyes. Still, while it was dark inside the egg, you did still hear the mufflings of the outside world, and the sudden upward drift meant that your egg was being floated to the surface.

Thinking quickly, you shot a telepathic message to Erassyl, in the hopes she or any of the others were still around. While you received no reply, you did hear the muffled sounds of a variety of things, including electricity and a firebolt. And a bunch of screams and the clashing of steel.

You then felt the egg being picked up, which made you shake around inside. You were being carried, but you didn't know.

"Forgive me, lord. But the others tried to desert when you didn't immediately rise from the pool." Erassyl messaged back. You felt your anger rise, but it wasn't time for fire just yet, not unless you wished to turn yourself into an omelette. You calmed yourself and telepathically communicated. "Hast thou killed them all?" You asked of her.

>>6356749
"The majority, yes, but the others ran off into the city; from what I saw, the wildlife was waiting for them. I've been able to leave via the path we came with, my lord. One more night of travelling, and we'll be with the ones we left to guard the camels and supplies." she explained.

You couldn't really object, not while you were stuck inside here; you would need a place to hatch, that was for certain. But you had a century for Erassyl to either find you a cave or to bring you back to Samarda. Unfortunately, while you could still have them proceed with the plan to invade the Qudininds, you couldn't be there in person, for if your eggs were prematurely cracked, you would go back to the ghost form, which you would like to avoid if at all possible.

Regardless, you were in an unenviable position. Effectively dependent on Erassyl being willing to haul you somewhere, and while she didn't seem to have any funny ideas as of yet, you would never know when the apprentice would rebel against the master. For now, the only thing you would need to do is to either get back to Shuagaz or some other safe haven.

>My own personal safety above all! Tell Erassyl to hide me somewhere safe so I can hatch in peace
>Tell her to put the egg in the care of Farbas; it will be hidden in his collection of trophies.
>Have her transport you back to Shuagaz, where you can hatch in safety, if you make it back.

>>6356750
>Have her transport you back to Shuagaz, where you can hatch in safety, if you make it back.

>>6356750
>>Have her transport you back to Shuagaz, where you can hatch in safety, if you make it back.

Shuagaz is where our most loyal followers are gathered and where our first tower was raised.

>>6356750
>Have her transport you back to Shuagaz, where you can hatch in safety, if you make it back.
Looks like we need to make a change of plans.

>>6356750
>Have her transport you back to Shuagaz, where you can hatch in safety, if you make it back.

Very eggciting.

>>6356750
>Have her transport you back to Shuagaz, where you can hatch in safety, if you make it back.

Was the previous prime form a dragon rather than a giant snake?

No, you would need to get back, get back somewhere safe; the sultanate of Shuagaz was your foremost destination. It would be a long and arduous journey, with you being stuck in your shell, unable to influence or order people around as effectively as you had hoped.

They apparently had trouble trying to hoist your egg on the camel and to keep it there as well; it was eventually tied with rope and covered with blankets to keep you from falling off during the journey.

You couldn't see from inside your egg, and so you had to rely on Erassyl's eyes, a process you found troublesome, for using your telepathic abilities to see with another's eyes was exhausting, and your vision was limited. The elven eyes could see more, but compared to your own, it was a downgrade of a massive grade. You felt exhausted, and you began to drift in and out of sleep; you had nothing better to do. You did guide them along their way; while you couldn't directly keep them safe, your heightened senses did mean you could steer them clear.

That was, of course, until the caravan came along, a fortress of the Qudininds. There, a checkpoint against smuggling halted them; as you lay on the back of the camel, they came along and interrogated the head caravaneer.

"So you came from the southlands, is that correct?" The guard asked.

"Yes," your head caravaneer answered.

"And you didn't take any slaves with you; where are you headed anyway?"

"No-no, we, uh, specialise in ivory and, uh, other exotic specialities. Here, take a look at this weird egg!" He pulled off the blanket, and you felt both your and Erassyl's fury and fear rising, but to your surprise, nothing came of it.

"Oh, what kind of egg is that, one of those great crocodiles? Are you sure it's safe? Eh, whatever, I'm supposed to stop untaxed slaves from the south and drugs from the north. Carry on, unless you plan to make an omelette out of it!" The guard chuckled, waving you through the checkpoint without a second glance.

And so you continued on, over hill and dune, past the desert villages and into the uninhabited wilderland that was only nominally part of the countries that made part of it, but you had made it; you wouldn't be boiled alive as a delicacy, nor would you be smashed or eaten for the time being, so you went to sleep in the egg, for you didn't have anything else to do but wait.

By the time you reawoke, you felt the presence of your two other foremost servants; they seemed displeased but at the same time fascinated by the egg Erassyl had brought back from the Southlands without their lord.

"You better have a good explanation for this, elf, or it shall be your head on a pike." Samarda acidly remarked they were like children, bickering and infighting whenever their master was not around.

"I am right here, imprisoned in this egg. 'Twas a folly, but a folly which shall repay itself soon." This time, you made certain their minds were interconnected while you shot your telepathic messages to all three of them.

"How soon, great lord?" Nafiri asked.

''Oh, relatively short, about a century or so, then the egg shall hatch." You casually stated, though it did leave the two humans dumbstruck, bloody mortals, that you gave them the key to eternal life, yet they're still trapped within the mortal perception of time.

"I want you lot to bring me into the underground parts of the fortress, where I may gestate in peace. When I am hatched, you must bring me sheep, goats, and gold. Our mission in the south was a success; Farbas has proven himself an able puppet, and the invasion plans haven't been jeopardised in the slightest."

>So I wish for you to proceed; it shall be your first test alone, without my handholding.
>Unfortunatly, we must delay for a century, keep building up the hosts and the reserves in the meantime.

>>6357127
The dark lord didn't really have a prime or default look, and he doesn't remember the one he was born with. Many masks and many faces, if he was able to shape-shift in full he could be a ghost, elf, man, dwarf, giant snake, dragon, wizened wizard, a stereotypical armour-clad giant, and so many other things.

>>6357271
This one is a difficult conundrum. On one hand, our minions are decently competent and in a strong position, but on the other, they don't have our magic or insights and are greatly outnumbered by the sultunates. If we let them go about conquering the land on their own, it will probably lead to some interesting developments from their perspective, while if we ignore the outside for a century, not much will change. Personally, I think it'll be more interesting to see what they're capable of without our input.

>So I wish for you to proceed; it shall be your first test alone, without my handholding.

Hopefully the snake cult can hold out another century in our absence.

>>6357271

>So I wish for you to proceed; it shall be your first test alone, without my handholding.

Inaction can be dangerous too. Especially a century of it.

>So I wish for you to proceed; it shall be your first test alone, without my handholding.
>>6357303
I wonder whether the tech level will advance in this setting. if we sleep through something like the industrial revolution or the creation of nukes then we could be fucked

>>6357271
>So I wish for you to proceed; it shall be your first test alone, without my handholding.
>>6357450
>industrial revolution or the creation of nukes then we could be fucked
secret reptilian overlord

>>6357271
>So I wish for you to proceed; it shall be your first test alone, without my handholding.

You pondered; on the one hand, without your oversight, the chance that they would bungle it was far greater than usual; on the other hand, you wouldn't be around to wrangle them and to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. This would be the watershed moment, their final test. Neither Samarda nor Nafiri had been professional warlords (warladies?). But you had taught them much; in a lot of ways, this would also be an exam to see if they had learnt.

"So I wish for you to proceed; it shall be your first test alone, without my handholding."

"Farbas will aid you from the south; the drugs should have weakened them significantly by now." You instructed telepathically, which was beginning to feel rather clumsy; you felt your speech slightly slurring, so you decided to put an end to it.

"Go forth, and bring them to heel; do not fail me, for I shall be twice as wroth as the sultan."

They all bowed, rose, and went back upstairs, save for Erassyl, who, it was decided, would keep the room and the egg clean for the time being. You couldn't do much; were you hatched, you would need a few years, and then you could smoke the Qudininds out of their fortresses yourself, but alas, what could you do but wait?

So you would go to sleep, a century would come and go, and when you would emerge, the world would tremble.
>Medium difficulty DC of 40
>drug trade weakening enemy troops +10
>Multi-pronged plan of attack +15
>To represent the ever fickle course of history: +1 adverse re-roll.
While you slumber, Samarda shall try to conquer in your name, roll a 1d100 (DC65) to see how the war shall proceed.

Rolled 98 (1d100)

roll

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>6357535

Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>6357535
I mean, its not like we're the only one who can plan, right?

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>6357589
Using the one adverse re-roll to represent history being as mercurial as ever

So guys, did you ever see the hit 2004 German film "Der Untergang"?

>>6357611
Perhaps putting an egotistical thief and priestess in charge of a war wasn't the best of ideas. No matter, we've been through worse. Many thousands of years ago. This is probably the worst so far.

if we survive this, we should create 2 iron maidens to complement our man of iron

how fitting that the serpent god should keep rolling snake eyes

And so you slept, and slept and slept. You didn't care that you were capable of living without sleep for as long as you were in this egg; you would be able to do anything, and you dreamt of things long since past, of the wretches you laid low and the few heroes whom you considered worthy opponents, some of whom you had great delight in striking down or corrupting. You dreamt of the present, loose as it may be, and then you dreamt of the future, when you could once more occupy your throne in the hall of dread, at the tip of your dark tower, where legions stood at the ready, and you obtained dominion over the land.

Time seemed meaningless, but you continued to grow and grow until you awoke; you felt your new scaly form press against the inner shell of the egg. You tried to see and noticed you had eyes, then you felt your tongue, as well as your smell. You tried to breath, but amdist the slurry still in the egg, it was hard.

You pressed your snout against the eggshell and pushed with all your might. It broke, and you began to wobble and shake, making certain you could walk out on all fours; you had been reborn. With your claws, you poked through the remaining pieces of egg and emerged into the room.

You heard the dropping of a stick and a shriek of both terror and joy. Erassyl was still here, though her dress had been turned to old and torn rags. Above you heard the sound of rocks hitting masonry; the war had gone poorly, it would seem.

"My lord, you have returned. Oh, thank the gods!" she exclaimed, falling to her knees in awe. And you quickly reprimanded her. "Never again mention the gods in my presence, for I am neither friend of the ones above nor the ones below. Now then, brief me. Are we under siege?" You enquired.

"The war, my lord, went poorly; it went so well initially. The plan with Farbas worked, and the Qudininds were quick to fall. The snake cults opened the gates of most cities, and they seemed to be on their knees, but then—"

"But then those imbeciles got distracted, or they decided to backstab each other; is that it?!" You angrily snapped. By now, you had heard nearly every cliche in the book. Why is it that you must always be there to wrangle these cretins to victory?

"Well, actually, a young Bedouin rallied his clan and those of the others; they weakened our armies with hit-and-run tactics and crippled us in an ambush. He is now the new sultan, and he is determined to bring down the tower and see both Queen Samarda and Nafiri be put to death."

"And Mortharn?"

"He has been keeping guard over this doorway for so long most think he is a ceremonial set of armour, rather than a warrior."

File: The Dragon.png (162 KB, 1728x1030)

162 KB PNG

"I see, if you would excuse me," The young hero rises to defeat the witch in her tower. How droll; you haven't seen that one before. Still, you supposed you might as well spy a bit on your former favourites. A one-way telepathic conversation, with you as the eavesdropper, and what you heard perturbed you greatly.

"That was an order! I gave the order to Achmed to mobilise the hill tribes, and he deserts me? Cowards, cowards, the lot of you! When he returns I shall make certain he will feast on you first! Do you hear me!?" She sounded tired and stressed, but she at least still sounded like Samarda.

You were stewing; inside you, the liquid all dragon produced to make fire with was bubbling. If you spewed it, it would ignite the second it made contact with air. And you wanted fire, a lot of it, fire and blood for all these moronic sand mulchers who were not able to win from some brat on a camel. Obviously, you would do something.
>Leave them to their fate, take Erassyl and Mortharn with you and leave the sandbox.
>Emerge to eat them, then leave for parts unknown
>You will do as a true dragon and kidnap the queen from her tower.
>Scare off the new Sultan's forces, and take direct control of the remains.
>Pretend to be a prisoner, so the Sultan may look upon you as a poor innocent wittle dragon.
>Enough! ALL SHALL BURN! FIRE, FIRE AND DEATH

>>6357654
>You will do as a true dragon and kidnap the queen from her tower.
Heh. Why not indulge the cliches? We can sort through recorrupting our sultanate once we've absconded, and the traitors are all drunk on the wine of victory. It seems Samarda and Nafiri were competent, but failed to match the excellence of this Bedouin. A cunning and bold tactician, well-versed in war and skilled enough to overcome a harsh strategic disadvantage. Perhaps he would make a fine target for subversion? Talent like this could go far in our scaly grip. We of course will need to punish both of these fools somehow, but it isn't quite as severe as it could've been, and they may yet of some use. What do you anons think?

>>6357654
>Emerge to eat them, then leave for parts unknown
>>6357674
>think?
Failure is rewarded with being eaten.

>>6357707
It's no skin off my back if we eat them, but I think it will be funnier if we kidnap our own minions.

>>6357725
My IP changed, I'm still >>6357674

>>6357725
I think the funniest option is the 'poor innocent wittle dragon'

>>6357734
That would be funny, but this new sultan is smart and we're a pitch-black dragon in the tower of evil. The risk of him just trying to kill us outright is huge.

>>6357674
I mean we have a bunch of our main minions in the tower here what happens after we kidnap our own minion lol.

I guess if this Bedouin was really truly dedicated to hunting Samarda down and he saw us fly away with her would he not be satisfied until he followed to make sure she was dead first? Or conquer the Tower after the leadership disappears, then follow. Or just accept that being carried off by a dragon is as good as dead lol.

I'd have figured we'd just scare off his forces and take control so we can set things right.

Lisan al-Gaib

>Pretend to be a prisoner, so the Sultan may look upon you as a poor innocent wittle dragon.

>>6357915
also we should try to spare erassyl, but let the bufoon goons (e.g. samadra) die. maybe eat them if the sultan lets us

>>6357654
>Scare off the new Sultan's forces, and take direct control of the remains.

>>6357654
>Pretend to be a prisoner, so the Sultan may look upon you as a poor innocent wittle dragon.

>>6357654
>Pretend to be a prisoner, so the Sultan may look upon you as a poor innocent wittle dragon.

>>6358063
We can mind control the new sultan later with magic artifacts we offer to make for him.

Enough of this; you will leave them to their fates, and you will instead try to see the measure of this new sultan. The room you were in was dimlit, and could easily prove to be a prison if they were convied it was so. Samarda and Nafiri would die, but those were pieces you were willing to expend, thus, you began preparing.

"Mortharn, come hither; thy master has need of thee once more." With a clank, the suit of armour once more sprang to life and marched in front of you, and you ordered it to slump over in the corner to give the imperrios it was imprisoned.

"As for you, Erassyl, go to the kitchen, obtain a piece of meat for me and an onion and knife for you, and cut the onion when the soldiers come here; we want to be as sympathetic as possible." You instructed the elf to do as you commanded, and she scurried off to the kitchen.

It would take a while, you believed, before the walls were breached, but when it did, you would make certain the soldiers would think you were imprisoned here. So Mortharn slumped against the wall, Erassyl would cry in a corner, and you would pretend to lie broken in the shadows.

A few days passed; the scant food Erassyl managed to smuggle down to you wasn't enough to sate your hunger, but you made do. You waited and waited; apparently Samarda had sealed herself off in the top of the tower, so the sultan had decided to tear it down, and with a crash you heard in the cellar, it came down. You checked your mental connections; both of them were dead.

Another day went by until the soldiers of the Sultan made their way to the chamber where you were being kept. You had made certain to change your voice from an authoritative bass to a more innocent tenor before they arrived. "Check this room as well, Falim."

About ten men came through the door, bearing torches and garb typical of desert warriors. They noticed you first, lying down like you had pains all over your body. You were still an infant dragon, not much larger than a large dog, but they found you first.

"What kind of creature are you? A dragon here? Quick, Saran, tell Sultan Asmar, if they kept a dragon prisoner here, who knows what else these evildoers have? And oh, never mind. He said as he came upon Mortharn and Erassyl.

"Hey, can you hear me? Can any of you hear me?" One of the soldiers asked.

"I can hear you, mister, but what brings you here? Are we to be executed? Has Dread Queen Samarda signed our death warrant?" You put on your most youthful, innocent performance.

"The Witch-Queen and her archpriestess are dead; praise be to Sultan Asmar, chosen of Nisharr, liberator of both Qudininds and Shuagaz. Now, I know it might be a lot to ask of you, but can you walk?" He asked of you; naturally, you faked struggling to stand on all fours, but you managed.

You were led out, Erassyl and Mortharn behind you, being led into the courtyard, where the sultan was burning corpses and emblems of the snake cult. He had also burnt both their bodies, and the heads of both Samarda and Nafiri now hung on a pike.

The Sultan himself was lean but powerful, a man with dark eyes with a silverish tint; his beard was dark and short, and he seemed to have a permanent frown on his brow.

"What's all this then? The hag had a dragon in her dungeon and an elf? You must come from far, both of you, which makes me suspicious of you." He sternly eyed the three of you.

"But great sultan, we were prisoners; surely we can't be on her side. The horrible things we had to endure under her cruelty were too much, my friend." You pointed to Mortharn, "has lost his tongue, so please, show some mercy; we have been bereft of it for so long."

He scratched his beard, considering your words carefully. "You have my sympathy, but I know of your ways, dragon. You may leave, for my god forbids the killing of prisoners, but I do not wish to see you again, do you hear me?" He stared you down with as stern a glance as a mortal could muster, and you saw the silver in his eyes shine.

>Very well, I shall retire into the mountains, far away from the civilisation.
>Now, now, I can be of use for you; I am a dragon after all.

>>6358085
>the heads of both Samarda and Nafiri now hung on a pike
A shame, Our first bearer had grown on me some, but such is the price of incompetence.

Hmm...

>Now, now, I can be of use for you; I am a dragon after all.
The sultan here is clever and cautious, but is he wise? It's time to find out.

>>6358085
>Now, now, I can be of use for you; I am a dragon after all.
I wonder what he knows of dragons and/or of us

>>6358085
>Very well, I shall retire into the mountains, far away from the civilisation.
We took a big L, so now we ought to take the W having fooled him. He will regret having spared us, later.

>>6358085
>Now, now, I can be of use for you; I am a dragon after all.
a savior deserve rewards

"Now, now, I can be of use for you; I am a dragon after all." You said in your most innocent and sweet voice, trying your best to play the wee little dragon-lad; after all, it was only a few hours past your "Birth"

He eyed you more closely. "I may not know a lot about your kind, dragon, but I do know you apptides are great and your avarice to be even greater, give me a good resean to keep you on retainer." Sultan Asmar raised an eyebrow, remaining sceptical at the use of a beast like you, but you could be terribly persuasive.

>Medium DC of 60
>Natural scepticism -15
>The silver-tongued deceiver +20
>Because of your draconic nature, you have obtained the dragon's gaze: +1 re-roll

To persuade the Sultan to take you on, roll a dice [DC65]

Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>6358496
You see, it really is quite simple...

Rolled 7 (1d100)

may we snatch victory from the jaws of defeat

>>6358085
>Very well, I shall retire into the mountains, far away from the civilisation.
Better to start somewhere where the ruler isn’t so on guard

>>6358505
too late for that

we need a 3rd roll I think

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>6358496

Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>6358569
reroll

>>6358571
this is the reroll right