Dredger gives a curt nod and crosses his arms, waiting patiently.
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Dredger straightens his back slightly, squinting. "Have I spoken out of turn, ma'am?"
"Only perhaps. And even if so, the true dragon is dead, and the only thing left is a corpse that gets possessed by anyone that slays it. Not the most inspiring image."
Dredger falls silent, looking down and stroking his chin for a moment. "The real dragon, ma'am. He said he killed them, and their last act was to blind him and turn him into what he is now, presumably. It might be connected to the pile of gold, and now that I think about it... It's possible the dragon before him was not real, but another person cursed."
"A curse, presumably."
"They wouldn't be continuing the lineage of dragons, they'd merely be a new race, made to resemble dragons, or at least I think so. It may be better than none, but why would we encourage worshipping dragons with no dragon ancestry? We revere the kobolds because of their heritage. And I am not concerned about our peers gaining dragon bodies, I'm afraid of the hubris it'll bring. Then again, I do see your points, and I won't stand against any plans you make..."
Dredger's mask may completely cover his face, but it'd be pretty obvious that his face is twisted into a grimace. "I suppose that could work... I fear that it would just be more imitators."
"If a curse turned me into an imitation of a human, does that suddenly mean I'm a true human? Or am I just wearing the guise of a human, with the mind of a half-orc? Physical attributes alone does not make us what we are. We don't worship 'people-turned-dragons', we worship ACTUAL dragons, the red..." Dredger halts himself, and takes a slow breath. "Apologies ma'am, let my beliefs stand in the way of tactical advantage."
Dredger sneers a bit under his helmet. "I'll try, but it doesn't feel right pretending he's an actual dragon when there's some odd magic going on. Regardless, he seems like good people."
"Not too good, Treach, but I do know restraint and tolerance. Should be good enough, hopefully."
"Roughly a fourth or third, I think. Less mouths to feed, but also some of our best troops. And if we tune in on the fact that we can offer better discipline training and combat practice, and plenty of work, there might be some people willing to put up with our worship, and become a sellsword under us. Not the best options, but the bigger we are, the better. We can't just take in war orphans like we did with me, it's not sustainable."
Dredger adjusts his prosthetic and nods. "I do now that he said he was from Elrith. This could lead to several good years, diplomatic relations, and recognition & acceptance as a part of the city. Blazes, we might even start getting offers and recruits from within those walls. More stable work and less rationing supplies so we can last until the next big job. But none of that will happen without..."
"While there are strategic advantages to having Antony work for us, which we could make use of while finding a way to undo the curse, it not only goes against our tenets, but also proves quite difficult to use, seeing as he is apparently blind, and barely able to move on his own. He might only be little more than a mascot, and I have already informed the camp that he is indeed not a real dragon. In the end, I say we utilize him in combat, if he's willing and able, until we can end the charade. There is also a sizable amount of treasure located at the cave I found these two."
Dredger snaps to attention, heels clicked together, arms behind a straight back, and chin lifted.
Dredger snaps into a salute, and belts out "Ma'am, this dragon is apparently a cursed human, and I brought both him and his kobold companion here in hopes of finding a way to undo the curse and eliminate the false dragon."
Dredger moves along, marching and guiding the pair towards the mountains, pointing out passes they need to take, and spending most of the time in silence. After several days of navigating the rocky terrain, the trio finally arrives at a crater cradled in the mountaintops and guarded by discreet soldiers, half of it covered up by an overhang cliff, and small crowds of people, various races and all clad in a red leather coat similar to Dredger's, start saluting and bowing to Antony. It takes a good couple of minutes to convince them that Antony is not a dragon. It nearly takes an entire yelling match to convince them not to bring out the torches and pitchforks and actually allow Dredger to explain the situation. When they pass through the only entrance and exit of this place, they enter a modest, and busy, village. Looking closer, a boot camp or army outpost would be a more fitting description, with the multiple training grounds, the excess of smiths working to both repair and forge new equipment from scrap metals, and the constant orders being slung back and forth. All the houses are neatly lined up, giving way to a square right in the middle of the all, taken up by an altar dedicated to the red dragon all of the red coated people worship.
Dredger continues walking until he's outside the cave, rubbing the jawline of his helmet as he looks over the entrance, deep in thought. "EITHER OF YOU GOT ANY EXPLOSIVES?" He yells into the cave. "WE MIGHT BE ABLE TO 'SECURE' THE GOLD SO NO ONE STEALS IT."
"Are you sure you need to see?" is the simple response Dredger gives, already standing quite a few feet away. "We could always grab a bag or two of gold and spread them out in front of you, but if we're already working to fix this..."
"Well, the locals probably didn't leave behind a wagon big enough to pull you, so I hope you can handle a long march." Dredger tosses his only thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the exit of the cave with a head cocked lightly aside.
"Of course, if you can move in that state."
"Fortunately, it proves your story so far. Like I said, False dragons are dealt with, with extreme prejudice."
"Illusions don't work if you pull something far enough from it." He explains nonchalantly.
Dredger steps back into view with the scale in hand. "Had to make sure this wasn't a ludicrously good illusion."
The unhealthy scale is held up to Dredger's left arm, and then he starts walking back out the cave, never taking his eyes off it. "Just checking something!" he yells back, now a good distance away.
Dredger nods a bit, before stopping in thought. The cultist then steps a bit forwards, gripping one of the more loose looking scales and pulling at it.
"I'm just saying they might salute and bow a lot. He might not be the red dragon, but even a lesser dragon is a sight to behold." Dredger pauses for a short moment before adding "And fake dragons are, dealt with..."
"Kobolds are always welcome among the militia! Although it might be a bit confusing to see..." Dredger awkwardly gestures at Antony "... That."
"Of course!"
"Well, Worshipping dragons isn't the most acceptable thing for most people."
"That's not too surprising, we like to be somewhat quiet about it to the general public."
Dredger offers his only hand. "Trawl Dredger, as I already said, Ma'am. Proud member of the redscales militia."
He simply shrugs. "No."
"Research? No, not at all. And I would rather not accept help from any dragon slayers." Dredger steps up closer to both of them, bringing attention to a gleam of flame and iron from his left arm, or rather, that gleam is his left arm. A metal furnace shaped like a dragon's head.
Dredger puts his arms behind himself and takes a deep breath. "... Okay, I can understand that. Just, let me unwind a little. I finally thought I had a lead, and you went ahead and killed it." After a few moments of discreet cursing and head shaking, Dredger locks his back straight again, standing tall.
"... Excuse me? You... Killed the dragon?" Dredger is standing there stiffly, with the light of straining leather from his glove as he clenches a shaking fist.
Dredger straightens back up, head slightly cocked to the side. "You are a dragon, correct Sir? I assume you and your descendant took care of the, uhm, paladin, some of the local townsfolk mentioned."
The figure hurriedly bows down and he practically yells out "Trawl Dredger, Sir! I arrived based on rumours about your existence, Sir!" Acting like a bloody soldier, this one.
A massive figure slowly walks down a long and straight cave, his left, blazing arm raised up to provide light, his footsteps lightly grinding the stone floor and sending echoes down the cavern. The figure stops over what looks like a female kobold, and what can only be described as some sort of... Dragon corpse?
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