Safe, for now

Tiana guides her people to you quickly and professionally - no surprise; she's been commanding armies and civilians alike for thousands of years. On her request, you have Ichika open a hole in your spectral perimeter for them to slip through - you both agree it's better they not see their undead guardians for now. Their resurrection in service of the sixth great dragon is already a system shock; you'll give them a while for that to sink in before they have to start reconciling themselves with large-scale necromancy.

By the time you reach the caves, your forces have more than doubled, with only a few lost specters. Your assassins in particular have proven their worth, dispatching three hunting parties without anyone even noticing they were missing people until it was too late.

Xixi was right - the caverns are not comfortable. They're oppressively humid, with low ceilings, rough ground, and a faint but persistent odor of brimstone. But they are defensible and well hidden, and have access to clean drinking water. Between that and the plentiful wildlife nearby, you should be able to hole up here for as long as necessary. Preferably, not a moment longer.

You claim the least objectionable semi-enclosed area for yourself and your companions, shifting back to your terror form to carve a marker into the walls of its approach. Hardly luxurious, but it will do. Most of them request their own private areas; you tell them they are theirs, if they can find any that are suitable. Gromna and Nenetl, perhaps predictably, make no such request. Tiana's pilgrims are split into a few large groups and filled into the largest spaces they can easily access, while Xixi shows the way to the cenote.

Once everyone is settled, you call your companions to your chambers to resume introductions. Since you had to handle his wish without any of the fanfare you were planning on, you decide to start with the big Kaldish man and pick up where you left off.

"The name's Ignar. I'm the best damn blacksmith in Kaldgrim," he says. His words lack any sense of smugness or boasting - to him, it's simply an established fact. His bulging muscles speak of a life spent hammering away at heavy pieces of metal day in, day out. "I wished for dragonite - a *lot* of dragonite. I'm one of the only people alive who knows what to do with the stuff, and there ain't much of it to go round. An entire egg's worth, though? That'd set me up with enough raw material to last a lifetime. Or ten."

Ignar turns to you and nods. "You've held up your end and then some. I know the deal. Name your price. Just know if you're plannin' on adding sex to the mix, I'll go along, but I don't really swing your way."

You laugh and flash him a wolfish smile. "Oh, Ignar," you say, calling up your magic yet again. "Haven't you guessed yet?"

You walk towards him, making sure to put some more sway into your stride. "I am a great dragon," you say, "and probably the most powerful mage in the world." As you approach, your body begins to change yet again - your hair grows longer; your face softens; your hips and breasts fill out. By the time you're close enough to reach out and run a finger slowly down his chest, you've fully shifted into a voluptuous feminine figure.

Ignar clears his throat and looks up and to the side. You can't see him blush under his thick, majestic white beard, but you can see his pants start to tighten. You grin. This is the most flustered you've seen him since you hatched - he might be a fun one after all.

"So yes," you say, stepping behind him and draping your arms around his waist. "I claim your body." You lean forward, speaking softly right into his ear. "And I'm sure a man as creative as you can come up with all kinds of ideas for a partner this... malleable." You give his cock a gentle squeeze on the last word. To his credit, he doesn't jump. Much.

Abruptly, you step back. "But that's not the main reason I chose you," you say, and suddenly your tone is all business again. "I chose you because I intend on building an army - not just of the dead, but of my brood. And they will need to be outfitted with nothing less than the absolute best armor this world can offer."

It takes a minute for Ignar to snap out of his lust-drunk stupor and process what you just said, but you see his eyes light up the moment he does. "Then I'm your man, m'lord," he says, a big toothy grin settling in on his face.

"Fantastic," you say. "Then let's move to the next simple request. You," you say, pointing at Ichika. Your followup is cut off when you actually shift your attention to her, though, as you notice she seems to be staring dumbstruck at your new form.

She also appears to have a minor nosebleed.

Well, that's one theory confirmed, you suppose. You wonder if shifting back to male would smooth this along. The next thing you have to say is somewhat more serious.

"Ichika," you say, putting a firm hand on her shoulder. "Your introduction."

"Hm?" she says. Then she shakes her head, pulls herself back into her reserved, proper posture, wipes the blood away and, somewhat sheepishly, continues. "Ah. I apologize. I am Ichika, ward of of the Venerable Water Dragon of the Running River. I am an apprentice Spirit Caller, communing with the spirits of the world around us and banishing those that fall to corruption and malice."

"I am here because my lord - my previous lord, I suppose," she corrects herself, taking a half step back from you, "has experienced a vision of his own ****. I do not know how it happens, or when." She looks you in the eyes, and for the first time you see the sparks of determination behind her gaze. "I offer anything - everything - to save him from it and protect the being who took me in and gave me the life I have now. What do you demand of me?"

You nod. "Thank you, Ichika," you say. "The price first. As with the others, I claim your loyalty, your body, and your skills. You will continue your training and hone your powers to interface with the undead. You will work alongside Tiana as my eyes and ears in the field. And, should I wish it, you will warm my bed and offer yourself for my pleasure."

She bows her head - a bit too quickly. From the blush you saw spreading before she hid her face, you have a feeling that idea is significantly less objectionable than it had been before this conversation began.

It's a shame you have to dampen that enthusiasm again so quickly.

"As to your wish," you continue, "I was shown the vision you refer to. I know the circumstances of your former master's ****. A day will come when the Venerable Water Dragon will feel honor-bound to issue a challenge he knows he cannot possibly win, that he would know means his **** even without a vision to confirm it. On that day, when the battle is over and the dust has settled - because of you - I will be gracious in victory and spare his life."

She shoots bolt upright, her earlier arousal completely erased. A tempest of emotions rages across her face - relief at the guarantee of her mentor's safety warring with horror at the implications of your statement. Silent tears start to flow as she looks you in the eyes, mouth opening and closing without a word. You don't need telepathy to know the word at the forefront of her mind - "why?"

"I know it's not an easy thing to hear," you say, as gently as you can. "But we are about the business of conquest. It is not a clean, pretty thing. But know that your wish has changed the winds of fate; you have saved your mentor, and who knows how many others. You have a hand in my destiny now; had you not trusted your heart, you and the Venerable Water Dragon of the Running River would instead be in my path."

That seems to help a little. She draws herself back up and wipes her eyes, but still can't seem to find the words she wants. "As soon as we finish here," you add, "you may take as much time as you need to think and come to terms with things. We're almost done." She sniffs, nods, and steps back. Tiana walks up to her and pulls her into a hug, and the spirit caller leans in and buries her head in the saint's shoulder. The rest simply give them space, looking on in sympathy. Even Gromna and Xixi appear to respect the weight of the moment.

It's almost a full minute before they separate. Ichika's eyes are red, and the shoulder of Tiana's white robe is damp with tears. But the spirt caller carries herself with resolve. "I understand, my lord," she says, her voice soft, but firm. "I am grateful for your mercy."

You nod to her. Then, looking to the rest of the group, you call the next member to speak.