This story is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC.
The journey to House Orogoth had been an arduous one, nearly a month trekking through rolling foothills and then across the blasted heath of the High Moor. And yet even in these dangerous lands in these dangerous times, keeping an eye out for trolls as earthmotes fell from the sky and it felt like all of Faerûn was on the verge of some great change, Alissa Stormwind was excited.
Growing up in the small village of Parnast, Alissa's dream had always been to see a dragon. To watch its magnificent form soar through the sky, hear its roar shake the earth, feel the smooth overlap of its scales. Whenever travelers passed through, she would ask them all they knew of dragons and memorize each fact. She knew the distinctions between the species of true dragon, and as she grew older she learned of the differences between creatures like dragonborn, half-dragons, and kobolds. It was half-dragons that intrigued her the most, beings born of the union between a dragon and a human, and late at night she would keep herself up imagining what such a union would feel like.
When Captain Othelstan came to Parnast and told her that if she joined up with him she could leave Parnast and not only see dragons but talk to them, serve them, she lept at the chance! There was nothing for her in the small mountain village but marrying the nervous goatherd she had given first herself to as a teen and tending tankards at the tavern. And so she was initiated into the Cult of the Dragon, an organization whose reach stretched across Faerûn and which sought to raise dragons up to reclaim their rightful place as rulers of the land.
Since that time, Alissa had risen through the ranks until she now found herself tasked with an important diplomatic mission -- the journey to House Orogoth. The family line descended from a group of powerful wizards from ancient Netheril who had come to the High Moor to interbred with a line of black dragons and increase the magical potency of their bloodline, producing a mixture of dragons and half-dragons as well as human progeny and passing down their magical secrets. The current patriarch was an absolutely ancient dracolich called Calathanorgoth who had ruled the family since a brutal purge centuries ago.
"The Old One" as he was commonly known, was the sire of all the current descendents of the house, some full dragons, some half-dragons. In his quest for immortality, he had agreed to undergo the ritual to become a dracolich as performed by the Cult of the Dragon, but grew unhappy with the results and expelled the Cult from Orogoth. But that was in the old days of the Cult, and now they had a new mission to present to the draconic sorcerers.
The journey across the High Moor had been difficult, but the sight of the ruined villa ahead gave Alissa and her entourage hope. The quest was over! Based on the intelligence she'd been given, Alissa knew the appearance of burned out ruins was partially a ruse, concealing an immense underground complex that served as home to the dragons and their kin.
The Cult of the Dragon were no fools, they had used magic to send word of the delegation's journey ahead of its arrival. House Orogoth was expecting them. Making their way to the courtyard in the centre of the ruined villa, the black clad cultists found themselves met with a welcoming committee.
Three figures stood before them, dressed in heavy cloaks protecting them from the elements out on the moor. One was seemingly a human, bald headed with a dark goatee, and a splash of black across his cheeks that from a distance Alissa thought were maybe freckles but upon closer approach revealed themselves to be scales, markers of a draconic bloodline. Next to him stood a half-dragon, with the distinctive skull-like face and forward facing horns of a black dragon's heritage, a long tail moving anxiously along the stone floor of the courtyard from under their robes, their build somewhat slight but clearly athletic. Alissa had to admit to herself she had no idea how to tell gender looking at such a creature. Behind and beside the half-dragon stood another dragonkin, bearing the same clear heritage, but this one was larger, maybe a foot taller than Alissa, broad shouldered and impressively muscled judging from what she could see of their half opened robes, and most notable of all was a pair of large wings folded behind their back. There was an overwhelming sense of masculinity coming from that one, power and authority.
The draconic human stepped forward first. "Hail, and well met, O servants of Sammaster. We of House Orogoth greet you with welcome and hospitality."
One of Alissa's companions, an ambitious but annoying young man named Orlik, blurted out, "We no longer follow the teachings of Sammaster, but of Wyrmspeaker Silrajin. You would do well to learn this."
Alissa held up a hand. "Orlik, please!" The man was one of those common types who confused bluster with confidence. He had tried to proposition her one evening on the journey, and she had taken great pleasure in denying him the use of her tent. She then addressed the representative of Orogoth. "He is correct, good saer. Wyrmspeaker Silrajin leads us down a new path, one which I hope will interest House Orogoth."
Raising an eyebrow, the man responded, "Interesting. Our elders Wastirek and Vilholin were most grateful for their transformations into dracoliches which the Cult provided, serving as they did to steady them during the worst of the Spellplague."
The smaller of the two half-dragons stepped forward then. "But my mother Kasidikal has never had interest in becoming a corpse, and will not be swayed to it."
Alissa nodded her head to the half-dragon. "We understand. Creating dracoliches is no longer the Cult's aim. We seek powerful allies among
living
dragons. For the time of the rise of Tiamat will soon be upon us."
The half-dragon's eyes seemed to light up. "Is that so? Then come, we have much to discuss."
The delegation from the Cult of the Dragon was then led down a secret stair hidden by the courtyard's fountain into the underground complex that served as the real home of the Orogoth clan. Once within the complex, the delegation was given rooms to stay in and invited to a highfeast, where they learned more about their hosts. They learned that their liaisons were called Arcanissthyr, Rezmir, and Versveshiejir. Arcanissthyr was a sorcerer, Rezmir a half-dragon warrior, and Versveshiejir was dragonkin too, older than Rezmir, a warrior and sorcerer both. They were all proud of their bloodlines, but Alissa took note that Rezmir took particular pride in her Netherese heritage as well. She was a student of history and a collector of antiquities in addition to a fighter, with a keen mind for politics.
At first it seemed that none of the full dragons of House Orogoth were in attendance, though Alissa had noticed that all the underground passageways were large enough to comfortably accomodate the size of such creatures. She was disappointed. All her life Alissa had wanted to see a dragon up close. To feel its breath upon her. To see its wings spread out wide.
Watching Versveshiejir as they ate, she noted the careful way he sat, his wings folded up behind him, in chairs that were clearly built to accomodate them. The wings were rare it seemed among the half-dragons and other draconic descendents among the family, and clearly must be a bother when it came to clothing. Around the table, the mages of House Orogoth were dressed in fine robes, tunics, and gowns, and Alissa and her group had also changed from their leather traveling clothes into finer garments.
She was now wearing a formal gown, befitting an ambassadress, with an elaborate bodice worn over her gown with its pattern of lace and scales, her arms covered to the elbow by satin gloves, and her long dark auburn hair worn pinned up in an elaborate headdress, everything in matching black to honour their hosts. The horned headdress was of course meant to evoke dragons, as was the intent with the scale pattern on the gown, but sitting amongst real half-dragons she worried now that she came across a bit phony, perhaps even patronizing. She hoped not. She hoped they would realize imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, after all.
But it wasn't Versveshiejir's clothes that attracted Alissa's attention so much as his lack of them. He was wearing well tailored black leather breeches, but nothing above the waist, no tunic or anything. Alissa assumed that this must simply be due to the inconvenience of creating clothes that would accomodate his wings. A necklace of gold coins hung down over a muscular torso, broad pectorals moving up and down with his breathing, perched above a washboard of abdominal muscles. Alissa's breath hitched as she caught herself staring, eyes instinctively flitting back to him and his biceps each time he picked up his glass to drink from it. His draconic facial features made it exceedingly difficult for her to judge his expression, but she tried to supress the flush in her cheeks when she thought she caught him looking at her breasts, hiked up on display as they were in her bodice, rising conspicuously as she breathed in and looked away, trying to focus on what Rezmir or Arcanissthyr or one of the others was saying.
"So," said a woman who looked like a black half-dragon, sitting at one end of the table in an antique looking green gown that put even Rezmir's Netherese jewelry to shame, "what you're telling me is that this Silrajin believes he can free the dragon goddess from the Nine Hells, but he needs a better command of the Art to do it, is that right?" This was Kasidikal, the senior representative at this meeting.
"Y-yes," replied Alissa, feeling intimidated by the piercing stare of this woman's eyes amidst her skull-like face. "The prowess of House Orogoth, its potent mixture of Netherese and draconic magic, suggest an ideal partner to the Cult of the Dragon and the Queen of Chromatic Dragons."
The woman stood from the table, and walked out towards a large open space in the complex, slowly unlacing her gown from the back as she did so. The sight which Alissa with equal parts apprehension and excitement. "And what, pray tell," the woman said as she shucked the gown from her shoulders and stepped out of the circle it made on the floor, "does the Cult of the Dragon think it can offer House Orogoth in return?"
