Your return to the human nest is equally uneventful, though you hear some strange sounds as you approach. There's some banging sounds, and some... mooing sounds?
When the human nest comes into view, you see that there's now a bunch of cows in a hastily-erected fence to one side of it. They crowd to the other end of their enclosure as you approach.
Sir Torlgrith is waiting for you in his usual spot.
"Welcome back," he says once you're in comfortable speaking distance. "Her Majesty the Queen has sent you a number of gifts. Apparently reports of your assistance have made quite an impression on her."
Suspiciously, Beachhead asks, "What gifts?"
"This herd of cows, for one, with the promise of more," Sir Torlgrith replies, pointing at the enclosure. "Not to mention enough steel to armor all of you, should you wish it. Lastly, you are to be proclaimed Lords and Lady of Bloodsworn Vale."
"Oi, titles always be fun. Dinnae think I be needin' heavy armor. Maybe a helm, with some spikes on it, but nae more. Have ye any drums? Nice big ones?"
Grash is able to get both a drum (custom-made, even!) and a spiked helmet. Beachhead is even able to get his black cloth with eye-holes, though it takes some work to get it tied on.
A representative from the Queen officially proclaims you Lords and Ladies of Bloodsworn Vale, and explains your weekly stipend of money and cows.
”A herd of cows?” Ziphora looks slightly uncomfortable. ”My brothers would appreciate it…but I’m sort of trying to go vegetarian. I mean what right do you have to kill another being just because you were hungry?”
”Armour…hmm, “ Ziphora looks thoughtful for a moment. ”I’d like darkleaf cloth studded leather the colour of the sky which has a cloud motiff to drape over myself.”
”And we thank the queen for her kindness and generosity.” Ziphora says formally as she gives a bow.
”Now could you arrange for me some human servants who wouldn’t be afraid of a hydrahead, so I can get my culinary experiments started in the wizard's castle?” She asks politely.
"Hey, how about me? Do I get anything?" Pacem pops out and demands greedily.
The Queen's emmissary assures Ziphora that she can have some servants.
"And what would you want?" she asks Pacem.
"A female friend? And shinies to build nest for her?" Pacem answers. "Oh and Beachhead must not come near nest!"
"Hello, Pacem. I've missed you," Beachhead says quietly, appearing suddenly out of thin air.
"What's this about a friend?"
Beachhead had taken the queen up on he offer to get his own custom armor, and he too chose studded leather, only his has been died black to match his new black strip of cloth with eye holes. He can often be found angling his head so that the loose ends of the strip hanging behind his head blow dramatically in the wind.
"Arrrkkkk!" Pacem squawks in alarm as he tries to get away from Beachhead, crashes into a tree branch and dissappears.
Ziphora gives a long-suffering sigh. "Beachhead!" She scolds him. "What are you doing with my bird again?!"
"I was being nice! I promise! He's just not giving me a fair chance at being friendly!
"I want to play nice with your bird, Ziphora!"
"Hmmm, mayhap I should get someone ter write down my tales so that they can be spread ter other hydras out there."
"He's traumatized! He's suffering for post traumatic stress disorder! Beachhead, you need lessons in hydrahead etiquette. Appearing out of thin air suddenly and saying you've missed that person makes you look like a creepy stalker!" Ziphora lectures Beachhead exasperatedly.
Grawar.
After a night at the human nest (and a sample cow from your new herd), you head for the former wizard's--now your--fortress, trailed by a number of servants and such, between the herders for your cattle and the representatives from the two lizardfolk tribes.
You take your time traveling (and have a few more cows), but after a few days arrive at your new home. Surprisingly, Mo is waiting there for you, though he seems rather surprised to see you.
"You not dead!" he exclaims in what might be either joy or fear.
"Well...I did die for a while, but I grew back." Ziphora explains matter-of-factly. "It's one of the perks that come with being a hydrahead."
"Mo, how have you been? I've missed you too, it's so hard to cook without a pair of hands!"Ziphora snakes forward and curls her head around Mo's head trying to give him a hug without hands.
"You not dead!" he exclaims in what might be either joy or fear.
"Moseph." Beachhead greets Mo formally, not entirely sure how he feels about him running off.
"Is the other guy around? The one who served the wizard that used to live here?"
Grash poses triumphantly. Or at least tries to, as much as a hydra head can.
"It twere a mighty struggle at times, but we were victorious! One such as we are not so easily defeated! I shall tell many tales of the journey, in time."
Mo looks decidedly uncertain about Ziphora's 'hug'. "Ummm... he not here when I get here," Mo replies to Beachhead's question. "I wait for you for... lots of time, then come back here to wait more."
"Well, we're going to be here for a while I should think. The queen has given me some servants, so you'll need to get used to having humans around. I think we'll be able to grow some beans around here, so I can work on my impossible burger - that's made out of plants!" Ziphora tells Mo.
Mo nods, but doesn't really seem to get what Ziphora is excited about.
The next few months pass relatively quietly as you slowly fall into a routine. Your lizardfolk 'servants' compete every day for the honor of their tribe, each trying to one-up the other in serving you. You're lavished with praise, finely-cooked meals, and freshly hunted animals (and plants, once they catch onto Ziphora's preferences). In fact, overall, you do a lot of eating--you don't think you've ever been so full for so long, in fact.
And it's definitely having an effect on you. As has been your trend of late, you've gotten larger... though it doesn't all seem to be going to muscle of late. You're definitely not fat, but... well, it's unusual for a hydra to actually eat more than its metabolism can burn, so even having a little to spare is unusual.
You've also grown three more heads. One is another sibling-head, but the other two... well, quite frankly, they're dumb. As in they don't talk. They're also not very smart. Mostly they just bite anything that's food.
There's been something else strange of late, though. You think your body may be developing something of a mind of its own. Every now and again, when you can't agree on where to go, it just... picks its own direction. So far this hasn't gotten you into trouble...
You're the Lords and Lady of the Vale, but generally Sir Torlgrith handles the day-to-day running of the human stuff. He consults you on particularly important matters, though. So it's fairly ordinary when a messenger arrives from him one fall day.
What is more unusual is his message.
"Sirs and Madam, I bring grave news. An army marches this way from the east."
"An army? What can you tell me about the army? What coat of arms do they bear?"Ziphora asks the messenger. "Where is that army now, how far are they from here?"
"'Grave' news? An undead army, then?"
"We don't have many details yet," the messenger replies. "They're still many days' journey to the east at last report. From our first scout's report, it sounds as if the army consists mostly of hobgoblins and other mon... and various creatures they've coerced into their service."
"How many are in the army, this sounds like a time to get a little exercise."
"We don't know yet. We're hoping the next reports will give us more details. Sir Torlgrith sends his advice that you call a council of war where all who live in the Vale may speak of how to best face this threat."
Grash perked up "An army? Darin' ter invade our lands? We must march forth tae face it! Though I suppose a council may be in order so that all may gather fer tae conflict."
"it sounds as if the army consists mostly of hobgoblins and other mon... and various creatures they've coerced into their service."
"Such as skeletons and zombies," Beachhead adds thoughtfully. "The general could be a lich, then."
"How long till the army is within striking distance?"
"We need to talk to the lizardfolk...they may know some traps we can use to delay the opposing army. Anyone else?" Ziphora consults her fellow heads.
"How long till the army is within striking distance?"
"We're not certain. Many days, by the first report, but that's as specific as we know."
"We might want to bring the lizardfolk into the council."
"All right. Let's send word to the lizard folk. Now Mo, write a message and we'll have Pacem deliver it. "Then she turns and admonishes Beachhead. "And beachhead. No scaring Pacem."
"It could make him fly faster, thereby delivering the message sooner," Beachhead helpfully suggests.
"Beachhead!" Ziphora yells at him
, "How would you like it if I were nipping at you the whole day? Do you think it'd make our body move faster?"
"You can't nip at me if you can't find me."
Beachhead vanishes.
Yep
"Let us gather the council. Where should we have the council?"
"This castle sounds like a good idea. In the dining hall." Ziphora answers. "Oh no! We need to do a castle inspection. Your room had better not look like a rubbish dump!"