[Wynn turns his head to look at Arthur for a long moment, as if waiting to see whether realization will sink in or not. But he knows there's really only one way to fully allow that to happen.]
Once again: it may be a simpler matter to show you.
[And with that he walks forward over the piles, with uncannily sure footing, the coins clinking and crunching beneath his boots. As he reaches the crest of one mound, he tilts his head up to gaze at the distant window fixed in the ceiling. A strange scent pervades the room, not entirely unpleasant.†
Wynn looks back at Arthur, and his eyes have changed entirely. Instead of being dark, they appear to be composed of pure mercury, void of any pupil, and they seem to flash with a sudden sheen when the light catches them. And then, with a suddenness that's nearly startling, he is expanding, changing. Wynn's features don't seem to even contort, just vanish to reveal others, as if someone were rubbing away one image painted over another, much larger image.
The first striking features to reveal themselves are an enormous expanse of glistening scales, each barely distinguishable from the ones beside it, giving the appearance of a creature sculpted out of pure metal. The head that rears up on the long neck is crested by a dramatic metallic silver frill, supported by black tipped spines, that flows down the creature's head and neck. Similar ear frills fan out from below two long, smooth silver horns, tipped in black. Its nose is beaklike, and no teeth visibly protrude from its closed mouth, while a frill dangles from its chin that looks strikingly like a miniature goatee. An especially shiny and tough looking plate covers the front of its face, blending into its beak.
As it rears to a standing position, the creature comes to tower at a height almost four times that of the man, two long silver wings with darkened edges unfolding and stretching to a span of one hundred and fifty feet, before folding back at his sides.
The dragon nestles regally atop the pile, fixing its gaze - the same bizarre, intimidating, wise gaze he had as a human - upon the young man now far below him. It seems to be waiting, patiently, for him to speak, and makes no motion to move from its perch.]
† Wis check of 14 to note the smell as that of fresh rainfall
and this would be why you get a secret log 8|
[Wynn turns his head to look at Arthur for a long moment, as if waiting to see whether realization will sink in or not. But he knows there's really only one way to fully allow that to happen.]
Once again: it may be a simpler matter to show you.
[And with that he walks forward over the piles, with uncannily sure footing, the coins clinking and crunching beneath his boots. As he reaches the crest of one mound, he tilts his head up to gaze at the distant window fixed in the ceiling. A strange scent pervades the room, not entirely unpleasant.†
Wynn looks back at Arthur, and his eyes have changed entirely. Instead of being dark, they appear to be composed of pure mercury, void of any pupil, and they seem to flash with a sudden sheen when the light catches them. And then, with a suddenness that's nearly startling, he is expanding, changing. Wynn's features don't seem to even contort, just vanish to reveal others, as if someone were rubbing away one image painted over another, much larger image.
The first striking features to reveal themselves are an enormous expanse of glistening scales, each barely distinguishable from the ones beside it, giving the appearance of a creature sculpted out of pure metal. The head that rears up on the long neck is crested by a dramatic metallic silver frill, supported by black tipped spines, that flows down the creature's head and neck. Similar ear frills fan out from below two long, smooth silver horns, tipped in black. Its nose is beaklike, and no teeth visibly protrude from its closed mouth, while a frill dangles from its chin that looks strikingly like a miniature goatee. An especially shiny and tough looking plate covers the front of its face, blending into its beak.
As it rears to a standing position, the creature comes to tower at a height almost four times that of the man, two long silver wings with darkened edges unfolding and stretching to a span of one hundred and fifty feet, before folding back at his sides.
The dragon nestles regally atop the pile, fixing its gaze - the same bizarre, intimidating, wise gaze he had as a human - upon the young man now far below him. It seems to be waiting, patiently, for him to speak, and makes no motion to move from its perch.]
† Wis check of 14 to note the smell as that of fresh rainfall