Smagnavast the Black's page

The dragon shakes its head in some frustration, but remains silent and the council continues.

I think that you should be cautious, the dragon responds. The information that that creature gave seems to me likely to be accurate, but also to be in some way misleading. I do not trust it. I doubt that things will be entirely as he made out. I would say more were I freer to speak, but I am under an obligation of silence in this to another of my kind.

*
And finally, expect the quantity and quality of your enemies to have increased - there are whole nations out there brought up from birth to have regarded a rival nation and its patron deity as enemies to be exterminated.
And don't think - if you have any sense of obligation to make a 'good' job out of it - to have much time to call your own or to pursue personal projects. The dragon gives a toothy grin. Frankly, if I were in your particular shoes right now, I'd be looking for a way to get back to being a mortal before it was too late.
Anyhow, I shall be off. I am awaiting notice on whether or not to intervene with regard to correcting a misunderstanding over actions the Goddess of Dangerous knowledge took with your form. The fact that you have of course 'just reverted to being a deity', as the informant has done their best to paint the picture of you, has only helped to blacken the image of you that they have woven with their artful lies and half-truths.
With scarcely a backward glance, Smagnavast departs.

Edit:
*Smagnavast snorted, but took the feather anyway. He's a dragon, so he doesn't turn down presents from deities except in the most suspicious of circumstances; it pleases his ego too much. And as a dragon, if he has it to spare in the first place, he almost always has time for a deity that wants to listen to his thoughts...

Oh yes. Watch out for those little worshippers and clerics of yours. The more of a goddess you become, the more you will need them to continue to - in the deific sense - 'live'.

By temperament and inclination I am, I suspect, unsuited to reliably advise you on how to deal with mistakes, Smagnavast dryily observes. My solutions would not be your solutions. Two things from draconic lore - myths perhaps. There is some sort of guardian beyond the knowledge of even the gods, unless it makes itself known, which keeps the masters and mistresses of those such as The Flame Troll at bay, through their easiest route to invade reality, through the Realms of Dreams. Naturally, draconic myths insist that this guardian is a dragon.
The second is that, beautiful and evil, the Daughters of the Morning walk at times abroad, wrapped in the shadow of their own light - a light which was before even most gods were, and which will still be after all the gods are gone, and which is horribly unique to them, a last echo perhaps of the grandeur and splendour of the multiverse in the days when everything was new. Such creatures are outside of the the knowledge of even the gods, their thoughts their own unless they permit otherwise, and inscrutable as they wish to magic. It is said that only the most pure-hearted of paladins can defeat them, by sacrificing themselves, although the last deity of paladins and chivalry to attempt to disseminate that information broadly, to his followers, expired in a rather nasty manner as the homeworld of his pantheon was invaded by three simultaneous hordes of fiends, and a plague of Scro from spelljamming space, eliminating every last worshipper and cleric within hours.

Since we skipped introductions last time, for the record my name is Smagnavast the Black, the dragon turns its attention to Lynora-Jill. You are Lynora-Jill. I gather I inadvertantly saved you a short time back whilst attending to a location sacred to creatures of the air which you had neglected to protect properly. Please do not presume on my rescuing you a third time.
Lynora can sense that the dragon is a herald or servant of something else, and that that greater power is skilled, if nothing else, in hiding any traces of his or her nature/identity.

At whatever juncture of the astral or other plane that the confrontation is taking place on, there is a sudden disturbance of a new visitor. Trailing clouds of darkness, the dragon Lynora saw at the Sanctum that one time arrives. The Flame Troll, cackling madly every time Lynora-Jill flung winds, despite the battle it seemed to be losing, appears much less happy.
You're in way over your shoulders, little goddess, the black dragon barely spares Lynora a glance. It wants you to use elemental power - earth, wind, fire, water. It's all the same to its master or one of its masters associates. Try happy thoughts next time, or positive energy if you don't have any happy thoughts to muster. And please note, that what I am about to do, is only going to work for me, or the dragon which requires anonymity and has assisted me.
The black dragon launches streamers of darkness at the flame troll, wrappings from the depths of night, at the Flame Troll which gutters and goes out.

Interesting. Smagnavast the Black rumbles. I believe, your majesty, we might be best advised to withdraw to your hold to discuss this further. There are various angles to this current situation, depending on just who is named as your brother and his people's killer, which it might be possible to exploit, to bring the criminal to justice.

However long you think you need to take over that, I would advise you to treble it. For a start.
I can count on the talons of one claw the number of things around which - aside from silly mistakes, catastrophic loss of worshippers, or another deity - are both big and bad enough to dispose of a goddess.
And most of those things would give little heed to me, let alone you.
Perhaps another time, fallen celestial....
The dragon departs, leaving Ashaundra to her scheming.

If you are looking for some way out of your servitude to the Jack of Tears and his crew, the dragon looks amused, I would counsel you to find a ring of regeneration or some such similar magic first. I suspect that if you find some way out of or around your servitude - such as one of those cute little scrolls with the clay seals that the demilich Acerak used to keep around, storing up time* - you will be immediately restored to the condition that you were in before you were healed by the Jack of Tears upon arrival here.

* For the curious, Smagnavast is referring to a 'focus' item such as was used for the weight of the wait spell in the 2nd edition adventure Return to the Tomb of Horrors.

I said 'undead' little aasimar girl, and I was referring to the delusional vampire that styles herself 'Innocent Blood', and for a while went under the name 'Serafina' at Club Calistria, the dragon crisply corrects Ashaundra. I have little doubt that most of the inhabitants of this place have departed to fight alongside her in her current war, or to try to cause chaos elsewhere. Dragonkind has seen this sort of thing happening many times before, and I gather that the likely possible results tend to end up becoming limited and with a few minor variations tediously easy to predict.
I warned her that resorting to brute strength was unlikely to serve her well, but she has apparently opted to carry on regardless.

You overstate the abilities of the undead little aasimar girl, but perhaps you do so deliberately for comic effect.
The dragon glances around.
You still owe the people of this place a life debt?

The dragon returns to the now almost deserted carnival in something of a hurry.
I have intelligence. Which may be of interest to those in charge...
He glances around.
Ahhh.

If that is your choice, so be it.
I shall not detain your rendezvous with destiny any longer.
It sweeps from the thread.

The dragon spares The Mask the briefest of glances:
Since you feign the ignorance of needing it spelled out for you - I doubt that you can be as genuinely stupid as you pretend to be - at present, I and my allies are not at war with the lady here.
If she presented herself as my vassal and then rebelled - well that would be rebellion, and I would be inclined to duly chastise her for her temerity.

The dragon addresses Innocent Blood.
You seem to be charging in with very little strategy beyond attack and kill.
You don't appear to have any goals other than just 'kill everything and raise undead' which relies on brute strength and little finesse.
And sooner or later, you will exhaust your strength, and then what enemies you have left will turn on you.
If your allies don't betray you first and turn on you for their own purposes, that is.
At present you and your army offer me interesting possibilities. I am offering you the opportunity to surrender to me now and become my vassal.
You can settle down here in the swamp, make occasional raids against your enemies, and pay a tithe in return for my protection.

The shadow of a black dragon circling casts itself over the company; with triple protections in place, Smagnavast dives down to hover with skillful flicks of his wings near the vampire leader of this army. He addreses her:
I gather that you're in charge here?

Charles Evans 25 wrote:

Hit 'reply' next to the wrong post. Should have been this one:

The Board Warden wrote:

The Warden walks towards the Drake, who finds itself unable to move. He walks right thru the body as if it was an illusion, then out again. Smagnavast feels a pulse of energy as he does so. He raises his hand and shows a black diamond the size of his fist.

No trove would be safe from me, but you may have this token by which to build another lair.

More of a demonstration of 'your lair wouldn't be safe', but as a token of thread control is cool. I'm not sure that the Warden would consider it stealing though.

I thought the pulse of energy was the Warden 'taking' what authority Smagnavast had with regard to the thread, having argued him into a position where he agreed that those who could walk in and claim things had a right (at least temporarily) to them.

The jewel is sort of the warden's compensation as in 'here, you saved the thread, so have this anyway'.
Even if that wasn't what you intended, it's roughly what Smagnavast is reasoning has happened.
The dragon warily takes the jewel, after eyeing it for several moments. (To make sure it's not the focus for a Trap-the-Soul or any other sort of magic.)
The jewel I will take - your advice I will keep my own counsel on.
But I will hold you personally responsible now, warden, for your law that this place will continue in its old way, unchanged, and if it fails I will look to you to answer.
I may be other things, but I am also a creature of the water and the air.
The dragon departs.
Assume that the jewel will be thoroughly scrutinised by both Smagnavast and the Night Dragon, and steps taken to make sure it is unsuitable for any kind of targeting (except by line-of sight spells if it shows up again) in future. Please; no locate object spells to try to pinpoint his movements or anything like that!

From the ground atop the mountain, E7 and JH rise.

Warden! The breach! Seal the breach!

We are discussing the fate of this thread, and if it is proper that it should continue, repurposed, or allowed to cleave to the old one, and likely fail.

I do not currently have a lair, but yes, if I did have one, and I failed to defend it properly, you could walk in in my absence and make yourself the master of it - perhaps even slay me, if you were of a more chaotic bent, and make it yours for as long as you chose.

Is it appropriate to correctly style someone who was living here a 'defender' when they failed to prevent an outrage against Brwaaaktor such as has occured?
What were they doing when the eldest chicken was slain? Were they defending this place's interests in some other place in some other way which they would care to now disclose to us? If they were not engaged in any such activities I do not see how they can lawfully be regarded as 'defenders'.

Smagnavast the Black wrote:

Let me rephrase that - are you a creature responsible for administering due process and with regard to what are you asking me what my intentions is? I require context, to be able to respond appropriately to your question.

This is a place of divination. A place created where Wind Worshippers gather and take counsel. Supplicants may petition for guidance here.

It is a place of service.

The Elder was not the ruler of this place. That one is on a spirit quest.

Do you mean to keep true to the thread founding, and act as steward until the Founder returns?

As he speaks the boundaries of the thread waver.

The dragon considers.

The King of the Fallarin has not been seen for many days since a battle in another place, to my knowledge, and whilst I had respect, as for an elder, for Brwaaaktor, this thread was shrivelling, even before this outrage against creatures of air and of the air.
If gnomes drain a marsh and start to till fields, the birds must change from eaters of fish or the insects of a marsh to eaters of seeds or the insects of fields, or forfeit the area altogether.
If a world changes from one of peace to one of war, strongholds and mustered armies are required in some parts where once there were wild places.
Respect for tradition should be maintained, but when others overthrow those traditions, and those who established them do not step forward to their defence, I would argue that a new order is both required and appropriate.

Let me rephrase that - are you a creature responsible for administering due process and with regard to what are you asking me what my intentions is? I require context, to be able to respond appropriately to your question.

As relative calm starts to return, the dragon throws back his head and bellows his triumph. He then notices the arrival of the warden.
You are a creature of function and immutable law?

Out of the boiling skies, the dragon returns and descends, bellowing against the raging fury of the dissolution.
From the moment that the dragon touches down, the spin of the unravelling thread begins to slow, and the frantic seesaw of the horizon to stabilise.

...Are we going to find this dragon's horde and plunder it?

Hey! Hands off my army of looting pillaging barbarians.

Horde does not have the same meaning as hoard...
Oh... wait... that was an April Fool's joke, wasn't it? ;)

The dragon returns to the air and hurtles back into the interthereal, departing the thread.

BUT, those upon whom you are relying had best deal with this undead chit.
I do not want to have to commit myself to deal with it because they have failed.

Hmmph. You are an oracle, sacred to those that fly.
I shall observe the laws and leave you be.

Greetings. the dragon eyes Brwaaaktor with a mix of curiosity and something else.
So the latest word is that a vampire is the big threat everyone should be on guard against?
And yet despite this, you would not BELIEVE the ingratitude of various lower life forms that have refused my generous offers of protection in return for tribute or other forms of service...
You do not appear to be having nearly as much impact as you should have, Brwaaaktor, and I am in two minds over whether that is a Good thing, or a Very Bad Thing.

Panic fills the skies as the shape of a dragon emerges from the interthereal, sending birds and other creatures scattering in all directions.
With strong wing beats, the dragon drives down to land in front of the Eldest Chicken.

With a snort the dragon turns, leaps into the air, and sweeps majestically out of the thread...

For a moment the dragon sharply inhales, and Ashaundra has real reason for concern that it might be about to do its best to dissolve her from the face of the carnival, but then it tilts its head a little to one side, as if listening to some inner voice or considering what she has said.
It exhales slowly, only a few drops of acid falling, sizzling from its maw, to the ground.
You hide your fear well. You flinched very little, the dragon pronounces.
You are clearly not in charge here, if you are under authority to another, and those you serve insult me and clearly consider you entirely expendable by leaving you to answer to me.
It narrows its eyes.
If they choose to spurn the favour I have offered to bestow, so be it.
Despite the insult, if it suits my purposes, I may see fit to pass them intelligence at times which they would find of interest and act upon if they had any wits.

You think I am to be fobbed off with 'loans'? Little woman; I am a DRAGON, and I know that weasling little creatures such as yourself, when you talk of vague promises and make mentions of 'loans' always mean 'we will expect you to pay us back later'.
I come here, against my better judgement, to offer you the chance, as a one-off favour, to serve me, and you try to con ME?

If the lords of misrule who hold sway in this place have any kind of armed forces, they are being offered a one-off opportunity to put them at my disposal, the dragon rumbles. I am sounding out various locations around these parts, looking for serfs to pay tribute, or minions prepared to fight in battle.
The only location that may have contained allies of sufficient standing to be counted equal with a dragon of my stature proved to be a disappointment, full of fools instead - only without the excuse for such a collection of numbwits that a place such as this at least has.

The dragon glowers at the scene and mutters impatiently under its breath, Is there nobody in this place of fools with the wisdom or interest to treat with me?

Dropping out of the interthereal to touch down outside the Carnival, the black dragon arrives. It surveys the chaos of the carnival disdainfully.

You are foolish indeed, then. Given the power of the legions of foes practically fighting one another in some cases to be the first to pull you down and enslave you, you choose to cling to little notions of independence and to sit in castles of sand such as this as the tide flows in.
Well have offered you a chance, and you have declined it. You will be truly fortunate if I offer you such generous terms again.
I had thought that for those that associate with that ghost-in-a-marble that still styles itself 'Kobold Cleaver' that you might have some sense, but that is clearly not the case.

Smagnavast is triggering contingency magic loaned to him by The Night Dragon here, not that Lynora has any way to determine that.
The black dragon utters a word of power and hurls Lynora's winds back at her; not deigning to wait and see the results it turns and departs the thread.

edit:
It might be possible for any expert casters observing at the time with something such as mage sight to determine that the dragon didn't actually use it's own power to throw back the pinning winds, which whilst reassuring (perhaps) with regard to Smagnavast does hint at much bigger problems out there somewhere...

If you are to cowardly to seek an alliance, since you seem to be the spokesperson for this place, that leaves just the question of are you too foolish to seek my protection in return for tribute?
The dragon casts a canny eye over the establishment.
I will accept a payment on a montly basis of eighty per cent of the profits - and a fee of twenty thousand pieces of gold 'up front', payable either in the form of gold bullion or the equivalent in platinum, as a token of your 'good faith' - in return for a guarantee of my protection.

If they fear you enough to be so subject to your will, and you possess that level of mastery of magic, then it might be worth my considering you somewhere near an equal.

(edited)
Perhaps as a demonstration of your power, you could turn one of your expendable servants into solid gold and make a present of him to me.

Me. If there any amongst you with the strength to prove useful as allies.
Otherwise, you can plead for my protection.
Or I can leave you to your fate.
This dragon doesn't have any particular protections against divinations, and for anyone caring to detect alignments, is very obviously Lawful Evil.

A large black dragon, easily the size of a herd of elephants drops out of the interthereal to arrive at the gates of the temple.

For those whom it may concern, I have a message. This is your one chance to make an alliance, or to seek status of servants, paying tribute in return for protection.
Things too horrible for the little humanoid minds of most of you to fully comprehend are coming soon to these places.
You can negotiate now, or suffer later.

Having made its announcement, the dragon adopts a bored expression, and begins to pick bits of dirt out from under its foreclaws.