An eggsperiment of mutual interest.

In a flash of brilliance, you decide to please both demons simultaneously. Tapping your chin, you dart your gaze among your trio of followers. The eggs needed somewhere to gestate, and any of the three could make for a suitable host. By your estimates, the modest pile of eggs could snugly fit inside one of their wombs; now you need only choose. The three women watch you with mixed expressions. Helen's eyes stare wide, lips pursed in curious wonder; Beatrice bares a face of sullen disappointment (no doubt her unsated urge to smash); Rosaria is another matter. Her mane of curly, black hair hangs damp after the plunge into the lake, and her dark eyes show a quiet, doubtful resentment. Not to mention that you keep catching her staring at your grimoire. You remind yourself that most commonfolk exist without magic in their daily lives. Though bandits are not beholden to the church, you recall that the dominant faith in the region denounced most arcane magic as heretical witchcraft, and bandits can sometimes be a superstitious lot.

"Well? What do you suggest we do with them, Lord Mendax?" Rosaria asks after a long silence. The emphasis she places on your title drips with sarcasm, but you allow it. Her words unwittingly volunteered her to bear the unholy burden. You offer a warm smile before your eyes drift down to her wide, plush hips.

"Gather them up. They appear inert, and could fetch a high price among alchemists," you lie with a guise of scholarly confidence. Yes, Rosaria would be a perfect mother to Dagon's spawn. With time and the aid of your grimoire, you could attempt a ritual to bend the unborn, piscine demons to Grevakhnu's will. Doubtful that Dagon would show you any favor, but he should remain oblivious to the manipulation so long as you don't kill them yourself.

"Aye, aye!" Helen salutes a fist over her chest before unfastening a pouch from her belt. However, her enthusiasm sours when her bare hand touches the sticky, walnut-sized eggs. A thick, slimy mucus covers each of them, and they stink of brine. Strange patches of thick, black veins mottle the glistening surface of each of the olive ovum. You watch her gag as she plucks the first of the squishy blobs up and drops it into her pouch. "Remind me to buy a new pouch..." she groans. You suppress a chuckle at her prissy innocence.

"We've ventured far enough for one day, I think," you announce, straightening your posture, nodding with certainty. You dramatically stretch out a hand toward the muscled amazon. "Beatrice, I need you to scout the rest of the prayer hall for dry wood. If you find anything hostile, feel free to give it the axe," you command. She flashes a toothy grin and unslings her pack. Hefting her weapon, the warrior woman storms off into the dim light. You then gesture toward a small alcove to the right of the statue. "Rosaria, I need you to help Helen set up camp," you add. She gives you a sneer and crosses her arms.

"And what will you be doing to help?" she asks, eyes narrowed with growing disdain. You smile; she won't be a problem for much longer.

"I shall establish a magical ward around our campsite. You are safe from ambush so long as you have me, my dears," you say before bowing with a flourish. Helen chimes in, expressing her expected, naive astonishment. Rosaria just wrinkles her nose, saying nothing. Having lost her pack to the Lumoworms, she swipes up the backpack Beatrice dropped and trudges toward the alcove, hips involuntarily swaying with each step. You know the wards will be unnecessary, as anything remaining in the temple would surely have attacked by now; there was no need for you to stoop to building camp. Settling into leadership was proving easier than you expected. Helen finally finishes collecting the eggs and hands you the hefty pouch before zipping toward the lake to wash her hands. You estimate there to be about two dozen eggs in the pouch, just waiting to be implanted into a warm womb. Stowing them away for later, you gleefully anticipate the possibilities of commanding so many demons so soon on your journey.

For the brief time it takes Beatrice to scout the immediate vicinity and the other girls to unpack bedrolls, you sit cross-legged before the statue of Dagon. Whispering abyssal scripts, you discreetly recite your cult's chant to Grevakhnu. With luck, she will hear your devoted prayers and bless your efforts to dominate the spawn of her nemesis. Your hand gently strokes the dark leather cover of your grimoire. Beatrice soon returns with a pair of giant rats slung over one shoulder and a bundle of splintered, wooden furniture beneath the other arm. Not a bountiful or dignified meal, but none of you would go hungry tonight. You magically ignite the makeshift campfire, to the amazement of your immature, roguish companion. The trio reminisce on stories of their travels over roasted rat, and occasionally you spin several bullshit tales about helping other bandit gangs rise to power. Rosaria tries to call your bluff more than once, but you manage to maintain your deceptions... for now. After the meal, you ask Helen to take first watch, offering to take the second.

Soon it is time to change shift, and you rise from your sleeping roll before Helen can even wake you. How could you sleep with such promise within reach? You rested and lay in your sleeping bag, but only awaiting this opportunity. The waifish redhead beams a sleepy smile at you and thanks you for taking the next shift. After a safe wait, you confirm everyone is asleep before enacting your next stage of the plan. Weaving a Sleep spell, you give yourself extra leeway and ensure no one will awaken until you allow it.

And yet, with all three slumbering so helplessly before you, another idea sparks in your mind. Yes, you could implant all of the eggs into Rosaria, but you would have to hide her away somewhere as the unholy pregnancy would be impossible to hide. A much more insidious alternative would be to divide the eggs among the three of them. Sure, they might show slight bloating, but you could clean up any traces of the ritual before they awoke. Then you could keep all three of your followers and allow the eggs more time to gestate. This might make dominating them easier without Dagon's influence, but you can't be sure how long Rosaria will remain loyal. With your current power you knew you stood no chance in combat against all three of the women at once. She could ruin everything. Decisions, decisions...