Corso wakes up from under a tree, brought to consciousness by the soft cooing of a pigeon. He rewards his feathery subject with a warm smile and a hand filled with corn. Looking at the skies ahead, he ponders how to leverage his new wealth towards strengthening the Avian dominion over the skies of his favourite city. Could it be done without enslaving humankind, he wonders, or would dialogue and fair distribution of power fail, as it tends to do.
He looks at the pigeon pecking at the corn as he stands to his feet, noticing that his companions were nowhere in sight, and says to it: "Wanna help me conquer the world? This is the beginning of the Age of Pigeons!"
"Indeed! Wolves wearing glasses and reading poetry! Yuan-ti calling some of us 'old friends' while bleeding out, and faes feasting us to the finest fish filets and flutes of fancy drinks! All of this, and more, to bring to your resplendences!" adds Corso.
Corso blinks at the assembled elites, guessing that they are far, far more than they seem. He bows deeply, trying to convince himself that drakes and avians have lots in common, then takes a seat at the table: "You honour us. Noble guests, our trepidations no doubt pale in comparison to your vast and deep experience. Yet, as you ask, so we shall endeavour to answer, and in so doing, perhaps tell a tale worthy of small emotions that punctuate a fine dinner like a fine wine to a meal..."
He then looks at the others, expecting them to continue.
Corso, this time, stands by Mark and adds: "Yes, we are educating the wyrmling with a proper tyrannical framework to guide his future plunderings. The young master stole tarts, but then chose to hid, and then only became defensive... I'm sure you understand the issue here and the need for a properly administered educational remedy, which we are in the midst of administering."
Corso considers his options and offers: "Mark, you think Daddy-Red-Dragon is going to give a pigeon's gold about you. I suggest we frame this as a maturing learning exercise to strengthen that wyrmling's spine, instead of as a lesson of lawfulness and thou-shan't-steal..."
He looks at the wyrmling sternly, but from a distance: "Look, you claimed, yes, but you got caught, and you got bested! What's the lesson here? What you gonna do when daddy's too busy with the paladin archmage? You need to learn power, but caution, cunning too! Now, give us one good reason, except 'cause Daddy' for us to let you go?"
Corso winces at Mark and warns: "Mark! Save your eyebrows! Uncle Jive's morning breath is nothing compared to that thief's..." and he steps back a bit to avoid the breath.
Corso looks at Mark for a short moment, blinks, then says: "We might not want to kill the thief readily. Can we try to apprehend it peacefully? Nestis, perhaps some dazzling lights like those who entertained your old friends on the road?"
Corso says to Teegor: "You can cook, so cobble us some cobbler frothing with fruit, while we fret and frown, fraught with fear of fruitlessness, following footsteps and false leads, to where the tart thief fantasizes..."
Teegor and whoever wants to help on making tarts, the others on the search. I would like to hepl with the search.
"Yes! You got it! Oviparity, for viviparity is, if you don't mind me saying, overrated. You vivipars have all these problematic layers, the ego and some such. These have layered into problems, you know why, my dear Teegor? Because vivipars lacked shells! Ovipars don't have this zero to four years old baggage nonsense, because of the shell shelter! We're simply designed for ruling..." he explains.
Now...
The pigeon king takes offense as being taken for a tree. He stood on trees, not the other way around. So as he sees Mark prepare for a series of slaps, he conveniently leans the Kobold resting on him towards the blow.
Corso ignores the conversation with the Yuan-ti, thinking it was Nestis's concern and not his, and continues to listen in rapt attention to the raptors' recital of recriminations.
Finally, he relents and says: "It is time you run free and look for your own food, like your brave ancestors of yore. Break from the yolk of Yuan-ti oppression and serve whom you choose. Perhaps it is instinct you wish to follow, or yourselves? But I can offer you something else, something more, purpose! If you follow me, the King of all pigeons, birds, and bird-like creatures, and together we can take not just the skies, but the lands, and bring about our righteous reign. We don't want parity, we want oviparity!"
Corso smiles and feeds the raptor with some of his packed rations. He discusses with them about their interests and their long term (20 minutes or so) goals.
Nope, not that biog, sorry. Also it's just teeth and claws for the, Nothing's protecting their hides but scales.
Re: The saddest crit.
Eh, that's about par for the course with my luck.
[dice=Wis]1d20+1
The raptor stops attacking and cocks its head at Corso before becoming very frightened and bowing low before the Pigeon King, Emperor of Birds.
"Your Most Plumed Majesty," it says in an archaic dialect of the bird's tongue as it spreads its feathered arms wide. "Forgive us! We did not recognize thine radiance beneath thy humble countenance."
The other raptor pauses, then it too bows low with arms spread wide.
Can I mount them? If not, Corso will require something from them...
"I don't see you doing any killing... Why don't you show us how it's done first before you comment on our own actions? Does the hawk tell the pigeon where to sh!t?"
Corso stands there for a while, until he comes to grip with the fact that they fey just ignored him. He gives the birds in the tree a knowing shrug and approaches the feast, filling his pockets with seed-like food, under the hullulating looks of his flock.
Corso rises from Elandria's side and takes in the sight of the faeries, and the tree! With a massive child-like grin, he walks towards them and opens his arms in a greeting manner, then says: "Oh wonderful people of the woodlands! Just how magnificent you are! We are at your service, kings and queens of these parts!"
"I am not getting into a fight! We have plums to plunder! Come on! Let go of your egos, all of you!" says Corso, trying to reason with both sides, but taking a big step back to not stand between Mark and the others.
Corso turns around and notices too that one of them is missing. He says, not bothered by the disappearance: "Well, that's odd isn't it? Probably the call of nature."
"So we're heading to the same place for the same thing then? I heard it is dangerous..."
Corso looks at Teegor and Elandria with a warm smile and takes his leave: "You must forgive me, but other business beckon and leave you I must. Farewell!" and he bows, then gives Teegor a knowing look before going to a tree standing about 40 feet away and sit against it, enjoying the sun for a few minutes, looking at the skies for signs of his flock.
Corso gives Teegor a looooong knowing look, but as nothing seems to click in the Bugbear's eyes, he shrugs and moves closer to the flower girl.
With a flourish, Corso gives the flower girl an elaborate bow and kisses her hand tenderly: "Enchanté, Lady Elandria, I am Corso, king of the skies above. At your service! May I beg what brought us to the pointy end of our paranoid archery?"
