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The odds are stacked heavily against your favor and doing nothing is simply unacceptable. The weight of your options is not easy to bear but bear it you must, for their sake and your own. It's a risk just turning away from the spell circle for the moment it takes you to reach out and snatch the first kobold you find; the equivalent of throwing an egg blindly into the air and trying to catch it with your mitt already full.

But you don't lose it, the crest of the spell wrest under control while your forelimbs cradle a startled minni'sjalfur. Her violet hide is a pleasure to behold as you paws hold her within the ring of the spell circle. The little female's trust in you is so great, she doesn't even try to fight back. Her confused emerald eyes stare up at your own, that gaze locked in place as the next pulse surges through the unprepared kobold, paralyzing her with its power.

She'd be swept away in an instant if you didn't catch her. Not physically of course, your talons already an inescapable embrace. It's her essence you keep rooted in place, forcing it to remain in the cage of its body despite the pain that physical form must be enduring. The sensation is so far beyond anything her mind could process that most of it is blissfully lost to the void. A second pulse scrapes through her body as you hold her there, concentrating.

Her maw flies open in a voiceless cry, only the faintest choked noise comes from her lips, eyes wide in a desperate stare. A third strobe engulfs the ship before your mind touches hers. Like ice to a burn, the shock is nearly enough to consume her. A tear of pain streaks down her cheek.

Theirs are a soul so different from your own; a tiny, fleeting speck floating powerless on the winds of time. Yet so full of life; a boundless spring of passionate desire and yearning, ever hungry. Anger, lust, conceit, want- these are things you know well. But this... this... _feeling_you receive from her? It is beyond even you.

Her little violet chest heaves, driving a breath of air into her lungs. Those tiny limbs cling to you, there upon the deck on her knees, enduring everything you ask of her, mind and body being torn asunder. And still, as the energies of your mind connect with hers, she does not resist your call, giving herself to you utterly and completely.

No words can describe the sensation as you embrace her.

The infinite expanse of your essence merges with the tiny kobold's like two galaxies colliding, swirling and dancing about one another beyond imagining. Her body begins to glow with celestial radiance as the spherical pulse that bursts from the ship rapidly expands to easily double its previous size, collecting mana from the furystorm beyond anything you could achieve on your own. The crest slows, stops and retreats back to the ship, shimmering with the collected essence. The vessel creeks as its bonds to the ocean weaken. Your ears can hear the cries of startlement from your crew as you do it again and a third time, raising the ship a meter further and another still.

But it is not them you sense, it is only her.

It would be easy to hide yourself from this small, insignificant creature; she is only a vessel, not a creature you wish to share your deepest essence with. And, for a brief moment, you do. Your pride braces the gates of your mind against her, unwilling to divulge the secrets you've gathered meticulously over the millennia, things a minni'sjalfur should not be privy to. It is an impassable fortress for one such as herself. Even with a lifetime of dedication to the art, she would barely be able to scrabble at the very edges!

And yet, you let her in. Perhaps it is out of pity... You can feel her soul burning away, like a fuse lit at both ends. But the surge you feel from her is worth swallowing your pride for. Her body jerks in gasp at the sensation, her glossy eyes watering, staring blankly at your own pearlescent orbs as this young girl is filled with the mind of a hundred lifetimes.

Her mind can only grasp at what it means; to watch the birth and death of entire species, to watch civilizations rise and crumble to dust overnight, to experience the thrill of flight and the pursuit of power... and the cost of it. The edge of her gasping maw curls upward in the barest fleck of a smile as another tear rolls down her face.

It is not of pain.

The magewood groans in protest as the belly of the ship lifts from the water, but the vessel remains intact leaving the liquid embrace behind. Only one pulse remains, but it does not come. The seal begins to glow brighter as you tighten your grip on the spell circle, forcing the energies to fold in on themselves and again, building a pressure that even you begin struggling to hold. A tiny trembling paw touches your unmoving snout.

The sensation brings you out of your thoughts of victory and back to the little purple vessel kneeling before you. Her soul shines like the heart of a star... what little remains of it... The wick of her essence is nearly extinguished and she knows it. She can see herself through your eyes. You can't help but considering regretting your decision to let her see the world through you; perhaps it would have been better for her not to see the end.

But that was not what she felt and the caress was to tell you as much. Your essence catches the arc, forcing it into itself one last time like pressurizing a bomb. Your snout shifts for the first time since taking the little one into your embrace, nuzzling her tiny paw.

"You will never be forgotten Vaseldanarensanadra." A pained gasp of tearful laughter escaped her burdened body at hearing her true name spoken.

Then it was done.

Unleashed, the spell's energies tore through the ship knocking anyone and anything not secured onto their tails as the ship lurched skyward with a defining crack. Unmaintained, the spell circle shattered under the enormous pressure, blurring the intricate design upon the dragondeck into a twisted mess of child-like scrawlings. The fiery glow of your focusing gem dissipates like cooling metal, taking with it the opalescent sheen of your eyes so you can see the lifeless kobold resting in the delicate cradle of your claws.

"Zula." Your words feel small as you call for your navigator; just from the exertion of course...

The black and blue kobold makes her way to your side as soon as she has her footing. It takes seeing the limp body you gently lay upon the deck to pull her amazement at the ship's heavenly ascension away. You can feel the weight of the question she does not ask and are grateful for her refraint. Your body shows none of the emotion you are feeling as you blink your eyes for what feels like the first time in days.

With a shift of your great bulk, you turn your head to examine the results of the spell, watching the ocean fall away and the crest of the furystorm move slowly but steadily way from the hull of your ship. Only then do you let the enormous weight of the spell's cost take its toll. Physically, its little more than a slump of your physical form, little to be concerned about; but you already know this will take weeks of meditation to recover from.

"Zula..." You call again, quieter this time. More of your cabal have begun gathering, noticing the dead kobold.

You are exhausted and, while the immediate threat is dealt with, there will be more problems to handle soon. You should rest and recover some strength to face what lies ahead. But, as your crimson eyes meet Zula's uncertain gaze, you know something must be done about Issra, the kobold that saved the ship. They are not unused to their kin dying but the circumstance around the little purple one's untimely end is something of an uncertainty to your cabal. They will not question your decision.

You can have Zula handle the ceremony while you rest but part of you would like to be there for the wake. It may just be the part of her that touched you but it is a part of you now all the same.

(#6) [Vote ends: 2/27 @ 8pm PT or 75% votecount] Have your crew perform the ceremony?

Your Journy has barely begun, rest and let the kobolds say good bye in their own way

Your meditation can wait; your cabal is not the only ones who desire closure.

---

There are whispers teeming through the crew, not all of them are about Issra. Rest would be the best course of action but there is still much to be done to prepare the crew and the ship for its new course now that you are skybound as well. You'll rest once everything is taken care of; including the ceremony.

"Her life ensured our survival. A high cost but one that saved many more." It is a statement you can say with fair certainty considering the alternatives. "Her sister and son are on board yes?" Your red eyes look expectantly at Zula but her contemplative stare tells you she does not know for certain. You do of course, you know the faces and names of every one of your cabal, but it felt like a gentler way of broaching the subject. Your head turns to the gold kobold from earlier.

"Inform them of the Issra's passing." You continue. "We are not out of danger's path yet but, tonight, given the grace of good future, we shall mourn her passing properly." Signaling Ramah's dismissal, the warrior kobold nods his head and disappears below deck to find his charges. "Come with me Zula, yours will be the most difficult task."

Perhaps resting would not have worked after all. As much as you would prefer a moment to step away from spell circles, the ship is effectively adrift and being pushed you away from your destination. Inspiration for finding a clever way to direct the ship upon the wind alone comes from your navigator who offhandedly joked that it 'was a shame the ship did not have tail feathers'. Binding an ethereal rudder controllable through the helm was still a tricky spell to compose, especially in such tight confines but making the glowing essence trailing behind the ship look like the feathers of a great avian beast was a pleasing touch.

Keeping the ship warm and breathable enough for the crew to survive at such great heights would also require a spell all its own. However, thanks to the earlier efforts to seal the ship of excess openings, a simple spell with minor magical draw could be maintained directly from the infused magewood. Your calculations gave at least half a year of comfortable living conditions below deck before the drain would begin to noticeably impact the flotation spell. Above deck would not be excessively comfortable but certainly manageable. The crow's nest was off limits except in short stints to check their surroundings if need be.

The aura of the crew was mixed. Some of the families had never even seen the danger that had nearly swallowed the ship whole, others were just now starting to see the terrible reality of the furrystorm as the angle of refraction made the storm appear much closer rather than further away as it had on the ocean's surface. Rippling tornados of fire water, glowing daggers of manashards slung violently through the air, cloud clusters thick as tar and black as ink. You would have found it more fascinating to study if not for the pressing issues.

The most pressing being the pair of kobolds at the bow; Issra's family. They were certainly not the only kin with feelings for the deceased but most definitely the strongest. The purple kobold had lost her mate years ago but had produced a child during the last brooding. Part of you is glad to know Issra had a child, a creature of spirit like that should have someone to pass that light onto. You don't directly confront the two of them, it is enough for them to know she died in service to her dragon and her sacrifice had meaning.

However, as evening closes in, the crew begins gathering at your behest. From your perch on the stern, your crimson eyes can watch the sun being obscured under the haze of the furystorm as it sinks below the horizon casting rays of bloody orange light out in all directions. Your ear flicks as the sound of music begins playing on the deck behind you. It is a soft mournful noise, distinct and personal to the minni'sjalfur. You let it continue for some time, sitting and letting the thoughts teeming in your mind run their course.

You remain apart from your crew for the time being with back turned, just listening. Their conversations are mellow, recalling fond memories of the departed, comforting her family. It isn't until the soft creak of wood catches their attention that the procession quiets. All eyes turn to you as you calmly cross the deck, the sea of kobolds parting effortlessly.

It is a long walk from one end of the ship to the other where the purple kobold rests upon a cradling nest of bedding, paws crossed at her belly. The last two to step away are the grey female with a green tail and the small brown-scaled male. He is younger than you remember; Issra always thought of him as her 'big boy', perhaps that's where the mistake came from. His cheeks are marred with streaks of dark where he has cried himself tearless.

You pause before the two, your unblinking eyes taking them both in. Vincent and Yavara. They are names you know well now. The green tailed female has cried as well but not as much as she wanted, steeling herself to be strong for the child's sake. Wordlessly, you turn away and close the gap to the lost soul laying upon the dragon deck exactly where you left her. The ash of the spell circle has been cleaned away leaving just the peaceful kobold behind.

Your eyes take in her form one last time as it is, committing it to memory before your maw opens, unleashing a curl of pure cerulean dragonflame upon her body. There is a rush of emotion that pours through your crew at burst of light that engulfs their lost kin. With the deed done, you sit and watch letting the reflection flicker in your red orbs as her body is slowly consumed like the fleeting ember it is. Some of them hold hands, some dip their heads in respect but the only sound from any of the one hundred eighty eight kin onboard is the wail of dismay from her child.

Yavara simply hugs the youngling, trying to comfort him even as the tears she herself was fighting back begin to flow. You let his soul speak its peace, committing the force of her loss to the very wind that she sacrificed herself to give to him.

"Your mother was an incredible creature Vincent." You speak plainly emotionless in your admission. "There are few of your kind that could do what she did." The words that rumble from your lips do little to comfort the poor boy but, even young as he is, the child knows to quell himself when his betri'vera speaks. "Know choosing to channel the spell through her knowing she would not survive was a decision made that I do not regret. But also know that it is not a sacrifice made lightly. Through her death you shall survive."

While the second half was directed at the crew, there was certainly special emphasis on the young one specifically. Your paw raises over the fire, your onyx hide unphased by its heat. As the body disintegrate under the intensity of your dragonflame, little wisps of glowing orange light begin collecting beneath the cusp of your outstretched paw.

"What you see before you is a shell that but houses the ethereal essence of the spirit. To save the ship and all its crew, and you little one-" You add to sniffling youngster to your flank. "-this tiny creature mustered more power inside herself in an instant than I have ever managed to touch in my thousands of years. And, with that great power, she lifted us into the heavens."

By the time you finish speaking there is no kobold left lying on the bedding. What remains is only beads of luminescence clinging to the paw you withdraw from the flame, collecting in the middle like drops of dew merging upon a leaf. You turn it slowly over, palm up and stare into its marvelous glow.

"For this bravery and sacrifice, she will be remembered." You rumble your creed and a low _she will be remembered_follows from the crowd behind you. Even a sniffling brown-scaled child manages to choke out the words. "For this I commit your spirit to the stars Vaseldanarensanadra so that all may look up and be inspired by your sacrifice."

With that, you open your palm, paw outstretched and allow the glowing orb to float up and away. Slowly at first but it gains speed at an alarming rate until it is but a brief but glorious streak across the night sky creating a twinkle upon the darkening navy blue backdrop. All eyes watch, as a new star is born upon the horizon.

It is a ruse of course; you can no more create a star than you could lift a mountain but you know that's not the point. For the next century or so, they will look up and share her story.

She will be remembered.

With a stroke of your paw, the fire is extinguished leaving only the fabric her body once laid upon. Scooping it up, you delicately hand it to the young child beside you, noting he somehow found fresh tears to shed. He clings to the blanket as if his life depended on it, starring up at you with large sorrowful eyes. There is nothing you can say to ease his pain. To your surprise, he lurches forward and clings to your enormous snout with his whole body. Despite the unusual nature of the embrace, it somehow feels right.

It isn't until Yavara pries the young kobold's grip from you that you're able to retreat. With a little bump to his chest, you lift yourself and turn about, silently making your way back through the crowd and dip into your den. The crew is emotional still, it wouldn't take dragonsense to know that, but you can feel a positive spirit beginning to return as your tail draws the doors closed behind you.

Your nest is a wreck but it's never looked as welcoming as does right now. Your very bones ach and the pile of silks fall victim to your inevitable crash into them. However, you hardly have time to pull your tail into the pillowy surface before a light rapping at your door catches your attention. It would be a lie to say part of you did not want to throw a gout of dragonfire at whoever was there but you know you they would not disturb you if it were not important. The sliver of moonlight slips through the cracked door.

"Master...?" You know that voice, your blood red orbs watching the small pink female slip in, closing the door behind her. It takes two steps for her to clear a single stair. "I am here for you master." The small kobold is almost completely blind in your den but she stands there at the base of the room, her tiny paws clasp behind her cream-colored front. "If... you want me to help."

Those deft little talons slip the knot holding her garment free, letting her clothing fall to the side, revealing her full, naked body to eyes she knows can see it. Ember had originally stemmed from a clan of venereal shaman who's specialization was... questionable at best. Dragon kin tended to see the tribe as anything from harmless to perhaps a guilty pleasure until they were nearly wiped out by a drake who found the concept of mating with minni'sjalfur to be an obscene heresy. It had taken considerable cost and effort to acquire the young kobold from her previous owner but the reward she provided was worth the price.

From then on, you became her new 'master' despite never enforcing the title. Your eyes slip over her form once more from tip to tail. You know what her offer is; she will do literally anything to help you feel better and there has never been a time where her company has not been satisfactory. However, the day has been exhausting and unusual to say the least- it is perhaps not the best time to engage in obscene heresy.

(#7) [Vote ends: 3/7 @ 8pm PT or 75% votecount] Find solace in the company of a kobold companion?

Lay with the kobold, you could use the relief.

Have her lay with you as you rest, you could use the company.

Dismiss Ember; you have not the energy to entertain such frivolities.

---

The smaller female always has a way of knowing what you need and when you need it. Despite the circumstances surrounding the day, you find a distraction of her kind rather appealing and, considering her talents, you know she wont disappoint. While breeding between dragons can happen less than once a century, mating between dragons can happen considerably more often. Even then, before the cultivation of kobolds and the mortal races it was an affair perhaps once or twice a year.

These feisty little breeding machines could engage in sexual play multiple times a day if not given direction and motivation to do otherwise. As a venereal shaman, Ember and her clan had spent the majority of their efforts cultivating an entire erotic language and the majority of that time centered around pleasing dragonkind more than anything else. And that is why you pursued her, collected her and gave her a place within your cabal to start a new harem of shaman.

The harem was still in its fledgling stages but, given time, protection and influence from one like yourself, the art could change the course of the kindred.

But today was not about the future, it was about the present. She's hardly bigger than your hind leg but that naked body standing there has already stirred your... interest. The decision was already made the moment you heard her footsteps outside your door but it isn't until you speak that she knows it.

"Come." It's a simple command and even one she was waiting for, but hearing it come from you still makes her heart flutter.

Leaving her discarded garment behind, the small flat-chested female steps toward you one delicate footfall at a time. There is little within your den to be of nuisance; other than a fallen candle stick. To your eyes, the holster is as plain as day, but it isn't until she trips over it that you are reminded their sight is a different thing all together. It takes bare effort for you to catch the falling female in arms that could crush her without thought, her soft skinned body coming to rest against your flank.

"Ah! I'm sorry!" She puffs in embarrassment, clinging to you for support in the awkward situation. Your rumble of response is not of dissatisfaction, nor is it of humor. It is of something baser.

You can feel more than see her cheeks warm; a curious response of their kind that you've never fully understood. Your paw brushes against her bare form, petting her delicately. That soothing pink body conforms to your caresses, laying her head on your chest as she relaxes comfortably upon your warm hide. There is certainly something alluring about the power you have over her; the clawtips that dance over her skin could rend her in twine with the barest of effort. And yet she submits herself completely to you all the same.

Perhaps that is why you are capable of reciprocating that trust, allowing this fledgling creature access to your most delicate of places. Her tiny little paw reaches up and cups the side of your snout. Hers is not the first to do such today. Yet you do not mourn that touch, it only reminds you more of what these tiny creatures are capable of. Your snout shifts some, nuzzling into that paw for a moment before extending a slimy forked tongue out to wet her wrist and palm.

She does not shy away from the sensation, she seems to relish it, sliding her paw under your scaly snout and lifting your chin. Her small muzzle leans in close and kisses you. Until the venereal shaman, you had never 'kissed' anything- seen the other races participate in the act, yes, but never attempted to do so yourself. A mouth full of razor sharp teeth can make such an act a hassle.

But Ember had been meticulous about showing you what it was and what could be like. The act between the two of you is still not exactly what most races would look at and easily identify as a kiss but that makes it no less enjoyable. Her small tongue touches yours, lingering on its surface, caressing it until that slippery reptilian tongue responds in kind. Its twin tines glaze across her lips, each one as thick as her finger giving the pink kobold her chance to caresses over, around and between the flexible tips.

Until her, you had never considered such a thing as being a potentially pleasurable act; having her appealing lips gently wrap around your tines and suck them slowly into her maw while licking over freshly exposed skin was a wonderful sensation. More of your oral organ slips out of you and into her, the tips pressing together as they slide toward the back of her maw and further. Her slender throat bulges with that serpentine appendage as you worm it further and further down her neck with sinuous grace.

Her little head tilts upward, those heterochromatic eyes closed with a shiver, tiny blue tongue dancing across the underside of yours in the most pleasing way. Your dagger filled maw parts some as you force nearly the entire thing down her throat. Her cerulean appendage curls around your own with a little squeeze with her muzzle part way inside your own.

She can't see the gaping esophagus of your maw in the darkness but she knows it's there. She's seen it before, starred at the slimy void of dragon digestion and faced it fearlessly, perhaps even curiously. Your teeth come down around her snout ever so delicately, capturing her within your own lips and then, much to her surprise, tense the muscles of your tongue enough to completely cut off her ability to breathe.

There is certainly a spike of fear you can sense in her but its overshadowed by a far stronger feeling of thrill from it all. You hold her there for a long moment, letting her dangle in your thrall before slowly dragging that slimy appendage back through her muzzle. Her lips make a luscious O around you as the lump of tongue visible on her throat begins retreating, returning the normal koboldian shape to her body.

You know just how long to make the act last, making the poor girl nearly dizzy from the lack of air before finally plucking your tines from the literally breathless shaman's lips. Her gasps are well earned as you release her snout from your grip and let the trembling female have a moment to compose herself. You can smell her arousal. Well, you can smell more of it now. She looks blindly up at you, purring that sweet little sound she makes when all riled up.

With that, you shift, rolling over on your flank some, exposing your hind quarters to be more... accessible. There are times you like to make her work for it but today is not one of those days. That lithe pink form reaches up to pet your snout once more before she slips down your chest and crawls across your resting thigh. Your other hind limb lifts giving that supple form more than enough room to wiggle her way between them. She lays herself stretched out in a seductive pose; she might not be able to see but she knows you can and makes the most of entertaining your mind while her paws entertain your body.

Arousing a dragon is not a simple feat, the act of exposing a drake takes much more than a lifted tail but Ember has long since found the combination that unlocks those secrets. Your body already very nearly responds to her presence as if she were a full fledge dragoness to mate with, it only takes the right stimulation to bring your arousal out of hiding. It would be near impossible for a dragoness to do what her talons do, those light, tiny, deft little paws able to make even your frills quiver at the touch. You tried to hide it at first all those many years ago but, even if you weren't in darkness, you would not bother trying to quell your indulgence as two miniature talons are able to spread your genital slit and encourage the tip of your bubblegum pink shaft out into the open.

It's the first thing she's able to see since entering your room, the light wetness of your slit slime is tinted ever so slightly with your luminescent seminal fluid. Its barely a glow even by starlight but the pitch black of your deck cabin gives an outline to that growing arousal her blue and red orbs can make out. Those immaculate little paws pet along its surface, sliding her clawtips this way and that to reacquaint herself with its silky smooth surface all those lovely little details.

Tapered to a tip with only a thumb-sized flatness to the head, the whole thing is nearly as long as her leg with a strong, defined urethral vein along the underside. While not controllably prehensile, the entire thing is exceedingly flexible, able to curl in on itself when necessary... or desirable. Only once fully erect are her paws able to stroke around with the ribbed base where that pink mast fades into the muscular turquoise girth that keeps the whole thing in line. She's well aware that the great drake can stiffen his drakehood just like his tongue when desired.

It doesn't take long for the vague outline of her paws to begin to show. They'll illuminate for an hour or so before the fluid completely dries- or longer depending on how things go... With her prize in sight, the small sprawling female begins to worship your shaft, bathing the sensitive spire in delicate kisses while stroking across its slimy surface in an intimate massage you could get nowhere else.

Despite your great emotionless orbs watching her stoically, you can't help but let some of the tension ebb out of your form as she touches you. You know for a fact she could relieve you in less than a minute- but that is not her goal. It will be a slow, drawn out crawl of her teasing you ever closer to a diamond edge like molding obsidian ever higher and thinner until you break. But you can't help but wonder if you crave something different.

Her tongue dances across your bared flesh like cold glass, enough to make your breath quicken. You won't be disappointed if you let her work her magic unhindered, but you could take her as well. You know her limits and she has made it clear her body is for you to use at any time you desire. She may not be a dragoness but she can satisfy your desires as easily as one of your kin could. There is also something you have wanted to try with her and, given the peril of your current voyage, it may be better to attempt such a feat sooner rather than later...

That flagged tail gives you a lovely view of what's beneath it as that sinful tongue dances across the end of your shaft, licking up the addictive ambrosia leaking from its primed tip. Your frills flex a little at the electric sensation. Of all the choices you've had to make today, this one may be the most difficult...

(#8) [Vote ends: 3/12 @ 8pm PT or 75% votecount] Allow the venereal shaman to choose your fate or take matters into your own paws?

Take the opportunity to relax and allow Ember do what she does best (oral)...

Let the little kobold become a dragoness for the night (vaginal)...

Do something unexpected (anal)...

(#8.5) [Vote ends: 3/12 @ 8pm PT or 75% votecount] And in what position?

...while comfortably sprawling on your back.

...with her on her backside.

...on her knees beneath you.

...in an unusual way.

---

You've not had such companionship in much too long and the way she presents herself is too great a prize to ignore. Your great angular snout leans down, nudging that fine tail out of the way. She doesn't resist your advance- the little kobold couldn't if she wanted to anyway. You can feel her anticipation building as you take in her aura. Most of her kin have a light scent, even when aroused, but Ember's trained form tantalizes your nostrils with the scent of her gender in the most delightful of ways. This close to her core, the scent of her heat gorges your mind with desire.

The flat of your tongue strokes across her lithe rump leaving a glossy smear of your saliva in its wake. Those sneaky tines brush across her sex as your questing snout cradles her crotch for a moment- just a moment, before entering her. The thing that put such a vulgar stretch upon her throat just minutes ago now digs casually into that bare snatch sending a fresh shockwave of pleasure through her tiny frame and leaving the exposed kobold to gasp aloud. Her snug tunnel conforms to the shape of your probing tongue as you lick across her delicate blue walls, taking liberties with your shaman.

It's difficult for her to continue her treatment of you with a probing tendril of dragon muscle squirming around under her tail like that but your carnal caresses aren't solely for her pleasure. She has a much more difficult task ahead of her and a bit of preparation will help ease the 'ritual' she's soon to be a part of. Your tongue curls across her tantalizingly soft innards, grinding against that bead of pleasure between her legs in the process.

You can't fault the poor thing for being unable to retain her composure, those shivering mewls and gasps and moans quite your fault; after all, what creature can withstand the power of a dragon! Especially one churning her insides this way and that while coating every inch of those lovely muscles with a juicy slathering of dragon drool. Some might consider stopping shy of finishing off the rosy minni'sjalfur and leaving her to tremble on the cusp of an orgasm as bad form- but she hasn't earned it... not yet.

Just as you knew when to withdraw your tongue from her muzzle, that feisty oral organ slips out from between her legs just before she's given a chance to peak. It takes some willpower for her not to slip a talon or tail down to finish the job but she manages to only cross her legs and lay there, quivering and biting her lip at the gnawing edge of a near-orgasm. It gives you a moment while she recovers to shift out from beneath her thrall, moving to stand.

The blind kobold can't see what you do, but she can feel your form brush against her. It isn't until your teeth prick at the back of her neck in a gentle but firm bite that she shuffles about beneath you on all fours. Part of her surely knows what's coming as you move to mount the little female but, again, her anticipation is almost palpable. Entrapped within the center of a dragon's nest, the helpless female soon feels that glowing rod slide up her backside, smearing a trail of luminescent fluid across her hide carelessly. That little body arches into the motion, lifting her tail to expose those creamy nethers and the prize beneath it to you.

Unbidden, your breeding spear would be lodged somewhere within her ribcage if you had penetrated but, at the moment, it was simply drooling a small puddle of seminal fluid onto the small of her back. Your grand form retreats, dragging that bare shaft across her skin, then purposefully sliding it under her tail and rolling forward again, coating her backside in a fresh glaze of your scent once more to mark her with it. She'll wear your scent for days before it dissipates enough for her to return to just smelling like a kobold in heat. The idea of it pleases you.

The second time you slide back, that goo-dripping tip comes dangerously close to penetrating that small form, missing only by a margin as a fresh streak of your precum glazes her underside this time. Her huff is soft and wanting but she continues to submit like a good kobold. Her entire form fits comfortably beneath you, that hiked tail pressed around your flank leaving herself vulnerably exposed to your desires. Her blue eye watches down her flank as the ghostly appendage beneath her belly drizzles a glowing stream of lust into the soft nest.

A paw sneaks up to touch and caress your drakehood, feeling its impressive power and prowess with a deep hunger. Her attention to your arousal is short lived however, those little ears pinning to the sides of her head at the sound of your low growl of warning. She shies away sheepishly, retreating away. Occasionally you find it necessary to remind her of her place- though you suspect there are times she does it on purpose just so you will.

On the third stroke, your pointed tip does not miss its mark, that loose, slippery shaft licking across her folds, pressing between those pliable nether lips to open the little kobold up one claw-length after another. The smaller female gently bites her wayward paw as she feels you enter her, the girthiness soon surpassing even the most well endowed of her own kin. Her toes tingle as the tip grazes against the deepest recess of her channel and, rather than stopping, it simply curls upon itself to allow even more of that glossy spire to squeeze its way inside.

The bulky spear feels like having a fist-thick mast of flesh pushing against her insides, the little pink female holding herself steady to let the great beast hovering above have his way with her. Even at this approach only, perhaps, a third of your length will fit. But it is still quite pleasing to feel the embrace of a female hugging every centimeter you can get inside her. And you aren't finished yet.

A few testing motions let your shaft slide back and forth within her, squishing and stretching those sensual folds in all the right ways. The motions become longer and more rigorous as your begin enjoying your little_pet_ more. But you have something even better in store for her as you draw back far enough to uncurl your cocktip and let it perch at the neck of her womb. Simultaneously, your comparatively massive paw collects hers and brings them both to her belly, pressing the flat of her palm against her egg chamber so she can feel the lump of dragon dick slipping deeper inside. Her eyes squeeze closed, a sweet whine passing her lips as you being to probe into her innermost sanctuary.

You know her limits and piercing her sacred breeding grounds is a sensation you relish immensely. That doesn't make the experience entirely painless for the tiny female, the stiffened tip slowly, methodically prying open a muscle meant only to protect and expel young, not accept the breeding tool of a feral beast. Yet, perhaps it is the challenge of taking her betri'vera so deep into her womb that makes her crave it as much as you do. Her talons tighten against her belly as she feels the pressure inside her welling up at that reluctant gateway but you are a persistent drake, kind but forceful in your pursuit of the warm embrace such a fruitful trespass will bear.

When it happens, her sudden gasping intake echoes against your deep growl of pleasure. The firm pressure against her hips relaxes some only because the weak-kneed kobold is able to ease back, slowly, steadily impaling herself on more and more of that engorged girth. The sensation of her innards being shaped by the dragon cock slipping inside her right beneath her palm and powerless to stop it's progress causes the enraptured woman to shake from tip to tail at its primal intensity. Forced to make room for the weight of cockflesh being shoved up under her tail only compounds the ecstatic sensations of being mated by the great beast on her back. The lascivious breathless noises that escape her lips are excusable considering what it must feel like for her to have that tapered tendril curling up in her belly to make itself comfortable within her bare egg chamber.

Your tongue glazes up the back of her neck, reminding the trembling kobold to breathe as you finish wedging just over half your spire into those cerulean folds. Then you hold her there, making her feel it move within, both on the inside and out as you begin thrusting. The pace is slow at first, a gentle, carnal motion used to prime her body for what happens next. As those tense sexual muscles relax, coated with slime, saliva and her sweet nectar, the contact gets rougher. The churning dynamic of your slippery shaft across her pussy lips causes them to undulate in a lecherous melding of forms, stretching and constricting to perfectly hug your primal essence.

For many, taking a dragon this deep could be fatal but this skilled pinkling can handle what you give her. She would very well give her life just to squeeze an extra drop of pleasure out of this encounter if it would please you, but you know exactly how far you can peruse your lust within this tiny, fragile body before you break it.

That doesn't mean you won't push her to the edge though. Your licking caresses melt into sensuous nips and those little nips eventually have your muzzle parted enough to take her tender neck entirely in your jaws as your hips buck back and forth. She is your hen tonight, your dragoness. Her body, like Issra's, is a vessel for you to use. The slippery wet sounds of a carnal union permeate the blackness of the cabin as you fuck the little kobold as hard as her stretchy body can take. Her insides will be sore and terribly tender for days to come but she relishes the moment as you use her for the pleasure and relief your glorious form craves.

Your orgasm triggers her own, the one coming bare seconds after the other as the rush of dragon sperm surging up that impaling spire and_gushing_ into her womb ignites the landmine between her legs like no other. Your rapid feral motions come to a head as your haunches buck forward. It's nearly painful to hold yourself back from trying to sheath yourself inside her, to feel the cusp of that cock-stuffed cunny wrapped around the base of your spire... But at least it gives that jerking urethral vein room to bulge as a thick wash of glowing semen floods the little hen beneath you.

Her own hips jerk and stiffen in response which only makes forcing the next lump of cum up under her tail all the more satisfying. You can't see her eyes closed with your own lids relaxed in the indulgent moment but you can still hear the weak, whimpering sounds of her own powerful orgasm trickle off her wet lips. The paws on her belly can feel the warmth flooding into her womb as the softly defined lump of dragon cock beneath the surface of her delicate skin soon disappears beneath a much smoother bulge of dragon cum. Your satisfaction is complete, not a drop held back as you let your body decide for itself when it is finished seeding this fine young female.

You can feel the intense cloud of emotions radiating from her as you hold her against you, like a rainbow of swirl of hazy pleasure. A soft hiss escapes her lips as your teeth dislodge themselves from her neck, a fresh ring of tiny teeth marks mark her hide now- to add to those already present. The healers could heal them completely but she has never requested such assistance despite your mentioning of such an option. Your tender grooming licks across the sensitive flesh is all she seems to want and you oblige her curious decision while the heat of the moment lingers for as long as it will.

Shifting with your still fully erect shaft still lodged within her tender insides is a challenge but the smaller female follows your lead expertly as you shift to lie on your flank. Resting herself between your forelimbs, the panting female glances back to see the fruits of her labor. While your seminal fluid is only tainted with your seed, the true essence of a dragon glows quite delightfully and, with the delicious strain your heavy orgasm put on her hide, her belly glows with a faint luminescence that even she can see in the darkness. That speaks nothing of the suffused cummy ring of light leaking around the seal of her pussy lips around your cockflesh. A thin trail of the stuff drools down her nethers and seeps into the crease of her thighs, panting her gender in a scantilous light.

She knows you have not given her a brood but that does not stop the sore female from stroking the cum-swollen glow on her belly with a wistful longing. Such a thing is an honor she does not believe she has earned. If only she understood the true reason...

Given the warm, clenching comfort of a female, your lust will remain active for some time; and you have little reason to give up that comfort. Your forepaw relaxes over her petite form as you acquire a comfortable position to rest in. It will be difficult to meditate tonight but it is a sacrifice you are willing to make considering the circumstances.

"Thank you." Your ears perk a little as the shaman speaks. The words soft and gentle as she lays against you with her eyes closed, slowly petting the fullness between her legs as she drifts off slowly into a heated slumber. It takes you some time but, eventually, you follow as well into a dreamless but peaceful rest.

It's the first time since you set sail that you have not thought about your destination.

[No vote]

---

A noise drifts across your mind as you sleep; not enough to rouse you from your slumber but enough to taint your dreamless slumber. You've heard this noise before though the darkness of your thoughts cannot place its origin or its source. Your essence chases it like a kitten to an elusive string, clarity always out of reach and slipping away just before you can catch it. You've spent ages chasing secrets greater than this but, somehow, that only infuriates you more.

Of the massive form of dragon body that lies within your nest, only the dual lids protecting your crimson eyes move as you wake. The little shaman remains peacefully at rest beside you, her chest lifting and lowering in a slow rhythmic draw of life. By now you've retreated to the sanctity of your scaled hide, the only remnants of the previous night's debauchery being the dried fluid caking your nest bedding- and perhaps the naked kobold that still reeks of your scent.

Your thoughts are not of her but of something else that circles around your mind like an irritating insect. However, you are given precious few minutes to ponder the subject, your head lifting from the nest but a moment before a raping echoes off your door. The sound seems to stir the small pink kobold. That great angular snout tilts down for a moment to observe her waking ritual, stretching and yawning before simply rolling over and tucking herself in against your flank.

"Come." You speak, inviting the black and blue kobold into your den.

The seal of your doorway breaks, admitting a flood of light into the darkness. Your pupils squeeze into slits but you remain otherwise motionless while Zula bobs her head and steps just inside. You can feel her purple orbs eyeing the stirring female at your flank, a bit of jealousy tainting her aura. Or is it envy? You have a difficult time distinguishing the two.

"Good morning betri'vera, you wish a report at dawn?" Her little paws clasp together at her front as she gives a slight bow. You nod in response.

"Come." You repeat, giving life to just one candle this time as the other is still on the floor. Closing the door behind her, those little legs carry her down the stairs and across the deck coming within a dragonlength of you. "The ship appears to still be in on piece and we have not capsized into the furystorm." She gives a coy little smile.

"Yes sir. Nothing of particular note in regards to the ship; though the storm appears to be following a path tangential to our own. I expect we could be up here for a while."

"Two weeks at least." You rumble a confirmation. "But I expected as much. The spell will hold for at least as long if the magewood is not otherwise drained of its infusion. I anticipate needing to dispel the incantation myself when the time comes." Your words cause some relief in her. You suppose you should not be surprised that short lived creatures without wings would appreciate the reassurance that the ship is not soon to fall out of the sky. "And the crew?"

Her smile is bittersweet. "Bit of a mixed bag. We spent years training to pilot a vessel for you upon the ocean and now... well... you know." She chortled spinning a talon upward in gesture. "Ship doesn't rock the same way up here and all." Her desire to lighten the news is more for her than you in this instance. You neither nod nor make any other gesture as she speaks, your eyes simply unfocusing.

"But they'll get used to it. Nerves get a little frayed when you can look below the horizon and see a gaping maw of terror beneath you. Tasks are a slower too since you've ordered the crew to tie themselves off while on deck. And I don't disagree!" She added hastily, waving her paws dismissively. "Just another thing to put stress on the cabal." Your irises return to normal as you shift to look sidelong down to the rousing pink skinned female at your side, her little form rising to sit cross-legged beside you.

"Then perhaps we should do something to put the crew at ease. A celebration perhaps?" You rumble, Ember simply sitting quietly as your attention turns back to your navigator.

"Oh! Um... that sounds nice. But what should we celebrate?" She inquires, extending a paw palm-up inquisitively. Your answer is simple.

"Life." Her head tilts slightly, eye ridge raised in a lack of comprehension but her answer comes soon enough as another knock at the door catches both female's attention. "Come."

The door cracks open once more as a little green snout pokes its way in.

"Oh! I apologize betri'vera, I did not realize you were with council." His surprise is plane but you just rumble kindly.

"Your intrusion is a welcome one Ketra. Speak."

"Ah! Well, I just wanted to inform you the eggs are beginning to hatch." The older male beams proudly. "And you as well Mrs. Zula! I know you like to be there when the young first begin peeping. You've been away so long I didn't want you to miss this hatching."

The purple plumed female turns back toward you with a smug chagrin, arms crossing at her chest. You do nothing to encourage her but you don't mind the look she gives you either. Your head bobs at the messenger.

"I appreciate your curtness Ketra, please return to the hatchery and safeguard the eggs as they hatch. Zula will be along shortly." The hatchery maid bobs his head and takes his leave, closing the door behind him once more.

"You knew." Her words are playfully accusing and you simply nod in acknowledgement.

"I had not intended the results of the last brooding to come to fruition upon the seas but our voyage could not be delayed any longer. Issra's sacrifice very likely saved the lives of the hatchlings so remember her during the naming." You speak kindly of your lost kin but your words cause her ears to perk.

"You're not joining us for the naming?" Her words seem distraught.

She has not been part of the cabal for 8 years so she does not know you have only attended three of the last nine naming ceremonies. More and more of your time is dedicated to meditation and, while you do enjoy the great flourish that comes with the celebration, you know you should spend time returning to your focus. The cost of power is the price of power and, while it won't kill you to delay it one more day, you shouldn't. The venereal shaman seems to have no stake in the conversation, just stretching her sore body gently to try and regain some of its flexibility.

Being a part of the birth of new members of your cabal is something you can only do once in their lives. But, while last night was restful of body, it did little to rejuvenate your spirit. You should spend as much as you can of the next week in isolation to recover your essence. Perhaps you can figure out what that spark is that has been eluding you as well...

(#9) [Vote ends: 3/15 @ 8pm PT or 75% votecount] Participate in the kobold naming ceremony or seclude yourself to meditate?

You've missed enough of them, this one is special too.

You must be prepared for the coming trials, rest while you can.

---

It is difficult to turn down such an invitation. The look your navigator gives you is more emotional than you believe she intended but you cannot allow yourself more luxuries at the cost of preparation. Your task is too important and the risks too high to fail, so you decide it will have to be three out of the last ten unfortunately. You rumble appreciation for her concern but shake your head side to side slowly.

"No. Raising the Glossmar Dee to the sky took substantial energy and I will need to return to my meditation to ensure we are prepared for whatever obstacles we may face next." You words are firm, knowing there is an objection behind her lips. But Zula bites her tongue and just nods her acceptance of your verdict. "I do wish you to all to have a chance to see the hatchlings so do what you must to make sure all of the crew are given a chance to rotate into the celebration." She nods again.

"I will see them soon enough." You continue. "And when I do, I will know their names." You rumble pleasantly. "Keep us on course and the crew vigilant. There will be less to do up here but we will be passing over the eye in a few days; there is no predicting the outcome of this unusual voyage." She seems to straighten and come to attention at the mention of potential danger. That seems to cure her misgivings of your choice- not that you at all require her approval, but it is better to have your navigator clear headed.

Dismissing her, the black and blue kobold bounces up the steps to return to her duties. That just leaves the little pink kobold beside you to deal with.

"I suppose you'll be checking the hatchlings for the mark as well?" The musky scented female rocks slightly, arms around her knees as she sits beside you. Those dual-colored eyes look up at your broad snout.

"Eventually. No rush though." She hummed. You nod.

"You said you had found eight already that would be suitable for your new tribe?" It's her turn to nod. "Have you checked Zula?" Then a head shake from the small female.

"She fancies herself the champion of your cause, you know, and she takes more onto her shoulders than she realizes. I didn't want to burden her with another." You consider that for a moment before speaking.

"I wish you to engage her, find out if she bears the mark you are looking for. Secretly if you can. And if she does, I wish you to include her in the harem. When this journey is over I believe it would be a good life for her." Your red orbs look onward toward the door.

The white-bellied kobold moves to stand, wandering a short distance to collect the fallen candle and return it to its holster. The sudden spark startles her momentarily as it spontaneously ignites. Your eyes watch her saunter over to the discarded garment, legs together and tail lifted into the air as she bends over to retrieve it. It still takes more than a raised tail to encourage you but that doesn't meant you don't appreciate the lovely view.

"It would be my pleasure master." She purrs, tying the band a little looser than the day before with her belly still full of dragon cum.

"See to it that I am not disturbed unless there is an emergency." The musky minni'sjalfur bows and dismisses herself with a springy step leaving the black drake alone at last.

Returning to a meditative state is not as simple as you would have liked, too many thoughts roaming through your mind, too many scenarios you felt the need to account for, too many emotions teeming through the mana-soaked ship. It takes effort to isolate yourself, slowly pulling the void around you like a great pair of wings. You have learned much about the arcana over your millennia, many things you wish you had known earlier; the void being one of the most important.

The price of power is the cost of power; using arcana essencia for spells and magic is not free as you once believed and has a price that the wielder must pay. One can use focusing stones like that which you wear upon your head to gather and store mana energy, like grains collected for winter. But even that has a cost. Burning the stored energy creates a sort of ethereal 'heat' that remains and must be expelled. Doing so naturally could take years before a focus was ready to be used again and that simply was not practical.

Thus the void; an ethereal heat sink of sorts. Within the void, mana buildup could be expelled much more rapidly while simultaneously regenerating its stores. Releasing the buildup happens systematically so long as you remain secluded within the infinite darkness, but replacing the lost energy requires effort. Sifting through the interconnecting streams of essence, channeling it carefully into the stone and applying only as much as it can handle so as not to overload its prismatic core was a delicate endeavor- especially while hovering over a raging swell of chaotic power like the furystorm.

But it is worth the effort; for using arcana essencia without a charged focus requires the mana energy to come from another source. It is possible to instantly rip the essencia from around a sorcerer to cast a spell but siphoning the raw, unrefined power requires such overhead as to often be more devastating than the spell itself. Life energy is the most readily available source of compact, essencia; the greater the spirit of the creature, the more energy that can be drawn from it. Release more than you can handle and you run the risk of losing both the spell and the mana; or worse, contaminating your own essence in the process...

However, the fury storm does have one benefit: drawing mana energy from the surrounding area appears to be much quicker than most sources. After examining the threads, essencia leaking from the storm is found to be very mana rich. It will require careful management but you'll be able to fill the crystal much faster once you begin channeling rather than needing to tend a constant, slow stream. Thus you can wait for the stone to discharge considerably on its own before beginning.

This gives you an opportunity to focus on other things for the time being.

To help center your thoughts, you give them substance. In your mind, your bodiless form rests on an endless sea of quicksilver. The opalescent focusing stone hovers upon a sculpted pedestal before you, two pairs of flanking, infinitely thinning tendrils curve up from the surface and connect with the white-hot stone at four points, each of them as ablaze as the stone, slowly emitting steam. There is no apparent source of light; yet light is everywhere, flat and even except above you where a milky borealis stream of color flexes and undulates in all directions, onward to beyond the horizon.

Everything your senses can sense is somewhere in that chromatic cloud. Including the object of your obsession, whatever it is. Weeding through that extensive 'haystack' will be the challenge though and you're going to need some help.

Your head turns as a smoky wisp leaves your ethereal shell and begins walking away. The form is undefined at first but refines as the moments pass by until, finally, the body of a kobold takes shape. Dike, a minni'sjalfur of the lost ones- the group you reclaimed after the kobold uprising nearly a millennia ago. His body bows the same way as ages old, with palms pressed together just beneath his chin.

Your head shifts to the left as another ball of essence leaves your flank shaping itself into another kobold body; Ursa, one of the first minni'sjalfur to be brought into your fold all those centuries ago. She is much more bulky than current day kobolds, her squat legs and shorter forelimbs better suited to a more primitive lifestyle than those of your present day cabal.

While only five are revived to such detail, many thousands more are remembered as you pass through the names of those that have served you. Such is your creed with the little creatures whose lives are so fleeting; so long as you survive, so too shall they through you. And with their help, you begin sifting through the endless web of sensations.

The work is meticulous, each of the little kin reaching into the sea of color above and weaving a thread though their fingers as if touching music, distilling it, isolating it, presenting it to you and then memorizing it before releasing it back into the cosmic stream of ever-changing light. Then the cycle begins anew, moving to the next and the next after. It would be incalculable to try to determine 'progress' but each failed attempt means there is one less thread to hide what you are looking for.

Occasionally all five wisps stop and turn toward the pedestal, checking its progress before simultaneously returning to their sorting. It does not please you that you have not found the source by the time the crystal has half-way discharged its 'heat', but you have little choice but to split your focus between the search and infusing the stone.

Approaching the crystal to sit before it, your forelimbs lift upward, creating two crests with the stone between them. Your wings extend forward, creating a shell of red to ward against outside influences. Beneath you, the sea of black silver begins to stir, slowly churning, swirling, circling. The kobold curators stand still, perfectly frozen as you focus your concentration on drawing up lightless tendrils from the black void beneath you.

Serpentine fingers of mana energy stretch upward, drawn higher like finicky candle flame. It takes careful coaxing to pull them into your claws where, as if directing a delicate breeze, you encourage the calmed flow to make one circuit before touching the crystal's surface. The energy sparks as it makes contact but, after a moment of hesitation, the energy begins to merge seamlessly into the desired destination.

With the connection secure, the beings that ring you begin moving again; slower and occasionally with jerky staccato rhythm as your focus shifts between searching and keeping the laminar flow stable. More than once, you find yourself retracing a thread you previously examined but little can be done to prevent such mishaps under the current constraints.

Despite your split focus, the charging of the stone is progressing nicely when you catch a whisper of your quarry. To say it is a sound is misleading, you honestly do not know what it is but your focus shifts as the kindred that encompass you touch upon a thread connected to a thread pertaining to your objective.

Whatever it is is not aboard your ship, nor is it a part of the storm. It is something different, something other yet familiar. Even as tantalizingly close as you are, you still cannot simply reach out and touch what it is you seek, dozens of threads must still be examined and you focus all five spiritual aids to the task, ignoring all else in the hunt. It is powerful, whatever it is, able to cross as many threads as it does. But it is also focused, not raw chaotic power like the storm. The five spirits shift into a line together, all reaching for threads and examining them, glowing in a flurry of activity as you edge ever closer.

It isn't until the radiance being emitted by the gem overtakes the ghostly figures that all six bodies turn toward the violently resonating crystal, realizing the mistake. In heart stopping fear, your paws collapse around the gemstone and you lunge to the side, diving away from the pedestal.

Your body thuds against the cabin floor as you find yourself thrown to the ground, startled awake, heart pounding. With eyes wide, your red orbs dart around the room. It takes you a moment to realize the flat, shadowless appearance of your den is not from the darkness but the light being emitted from your focusing crystal. It vibrates in agitation between your horns upon its chain, confirming what took place. Your fallen form rises from its ungraceful flop and moves to sit, calming yourself and encircling the overcharged crystal with your essence.

With careful, deliberate action you invoke the smallest of spells to deflate the gem like releasing air from an overfilled balloon. It takes a few minutes before the glow wanes and its trembling subsides. That was stupid of you, a dangerous mistake. And for what...? With the emergency dealt with, you take time to compose yourself and reflect on what for indeed.

There are no details you can glean specifically, the thread was lost and you would need to start the hunt over. It is a powerful source of focused energy and it is nearby. It may be an omen; though of good or ill is yet to be determined. Your ear flicks as you catch sound of something, a change in the crew felt at the same moment.

Your head butts the doors open just as a golden paw was reaching to knock. Ramah stumbles back a step, more than a little startled at the sudden appearance of his betri'vera. Your slitted irises shift down to focus on him.

"Something is wrong?" It has been ten days since you retreated to your den to begin meditating, a good long time for something to go amiss up here in the clouds. The spear-wielding kobold bows customarily as he speaks.

"We don't know. Ash said he saw 'glowing worms' upon the horizon." The small warrior turned, pointing up toward the crow's nest. Your angular snout lifts upward, finding the two legged being in the top bucket pointing in a starbordly direction.

Without hesitation, you move forward, leaving your den and making swiftly toward the railing. Like mice beneath the feet of an elephant, your cabal unfailingly navigate your presence. Part of you is amazed the red kobold was even able to notice them considering the celestial glow of the sister moons hazing the clouds as they were. Part of you is certainly irked by the disregard of your recommendation of using the crow's nest only on the rare occasion but you can forgive the infraction as it helped alert you to the mana worm problem.

Normally such creatures are a negligible threat but, as you watch the cloud of them swarm about in their hundreds, such a danger should not be underestimated. Mana worms are attracted to sources of magic and, when none are available, they can subsist leaching off of living mana for decades until a suitable meal presents itself. The ship would glow like a hot, skewered roast but it was a question of whether the infused magewood would be a more appetizing meal over the storm they were undoubtedly chasing.

They could never feed from something as chaotic and powerful as the furystorm which would make them all the more desperate and voracious. Your ear flicks as you hear the red scaled, gold bellied scout jump to the deck and bounce over beside you. Most of the crew have moved to this side of the ship as well, trying to see what all the commotion is about.

"Betri'vera, what are they?" Your snout turns back, finding the little male wearing a pair of black and yellow striped stockings on his legs and arms with a washed out brown cowl drawn down around his neck. It appears to be recently purpose-made. That at least explains his adherence to being a vigilant scout. Your eyes shift back toward the horizon to confirm before answering.

"They are mana worms." It does not explain much but you consider if you'll need to explain at all.

Physical weapons will do little to the creature so the best course of action may simply be stay the course and hope not to attract their attention. It doesn't please you to be idle though... Hmmm... Instead you could have the crew arm the arc cannons for a first strike. If you are going to have to deal with the swarm, it may be best to thin the herd some before they are upon you. They are mutually exclusive paths though; arming the arc cannons will most definitely attract the worms.

(#10) [Vote ends: 3/22 @ 6pm PT or 75% votecount] Use the Arc Cannons on the swarm or try not to attract their attention?

You have an opportunity to prepare this time, best not to waste it.

Discretion is the better part of valor.

---