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Arisa says “Thank you for your wise words and encouragement.  We head now to Goldenfields, but we will certainly be on our guard for Giants, and I suppose if we meet a chromatic dragon we can attempt to avoid getting eaten if we talk about the giant uprising.  Do you know of any place where we might acquire weapons we could use to help with this fight?”

“Any medium and large sized town will have a weapons merchant, but there are many weapons of more significant power that reside in the hands of heroes, would-be heroes, thieves, villains, and of course, hidden all throughout the world, in forgotten tombs, caves, monster lairs, and even buried within the piles of dragon hoards. It would be advisable to keep your eyes open for such areas to explore, for what you risk in danger can sometimes be worth the potential rewards, Arisa, Cleric of Mystra.”

Belkas addresses the dragon, "Your teeth are swords, your claws are spears, your wings are a hurricane! Truly, Felogos, you have no equal on this earth that I have seen. Is there any way we can call upon your aid if we should require it?" 

Arisa says “Thank you for your advice,  we would love to fight by your side one day!  I agree with Belkas- it would be wonderful if we could contact you somehow.  And if you hear of any ancient troves of weapons or magic that might be worth our exploring, please let us know.”

Vernon decides that the cheese is not so important right now, so he puts it back in his backpack.

"Are there any other allies we could seek out?"

He is not confident that Felogos will have anything useful, but he attempts to keep up the confidence he's been rolling with anyway.

Osmord listens to Belkas praise the dragon and smiles, he quietly considers what an undead dragon might look like. Such a powerful beast... if one could raise the cadaver from the grave it could be a powerful weapon against a giant invasion. He quietly ponders an army of undead dragons at his command... 

Osmords smile broadens. 

Answering Belkas, Felogos says, "Well, you certainly know how to talk to dragons... apparently someone taught you good manners. I'll gladly take your truthful flattery, but that kind of talk could actually keep you from getting eaten, should you foist it upon one of the less agreeable chromatic dragon types. As for what other allies you could seek out... trust your instincts, as there are many good aligned creatures out there in the world, big and small, found in all corners. As I said, I will keep an eye on you when I can, so it could very well be that I may send some aid, but rather than count on that, I would say again, trust your instincts. They seem to have served you well so far."

"Are there any more questions before I depart"

"No, I'm thinkin' we got all tha' answers we need." Zyllith replied, still grinning at the thought that they're having a conversation with a dragon, for the first time in her life at least, "Truly a grand spectacle ta' 'ave been able ta' talk ta' ye', and we be rioght honored by the experience! But as ye' say, we'd best served heading out an' trustin' our instincts. 'Imagine even tha' grandest kin should'nae rely solely on tha' advice o' dragons, aye?"

Arisa says “that is all I can think of for now- I look forward to our next meeting- I have faith that we will be up to the task when the time comes, although I know we have much to prepare for.  Safe travels, great  Felogos. ”

"Thank you for your guidance and offer of future aid. I hope we may again see you fly gracefully through the sky and hear your wings beat with the roar of the storm."

Belkas bows lowly. 

. 

. 

. 

'You did see him fall through the trees, didn't you, Boss? Is that what you call graceful in these parts?'  

'I was being polite.'

'It sounds like me that you took some classes from IC.' 

'You see what?' 

'Not UC, IC. The Infernal College. A place of learning back home. One of the core courses is Boot-Licking 101. But you sound like you passed that with flying colors and moved on to the advanced course called As.."

'Crowley!' 

"Thank you, Felogos. I am confident that the allies I already have will be sufficient now, and when the time comes that we need more, they will arrive."

"Farewell Felogos... this has been enlightening. You give food for thought."

Osmord bows his head and worm caws loudly from the perch atop his shell. "Worm advises you... to leap as you beat you wings.... to create more lift."

Felogos responds when Belkas bows with his flowery sendoff. "Let's not overdo it, my spell making friend. A little goes a long way, at least with me. Save your excessive flattery for the next cranky red you meet. It might actually do you some good there. Too much overt fawning bores me. I know my merits, I don't need all of Faerûn blabbering on with endless compliments, that's just a waste of time."

"And I appreciate the advice, tortle, although I find takeoffs much easier that landings when it's hot. There's less speed involved, and thus more room for... errors...  given that I weigh considerably more than your bird friend"

"To the rest of you, farewell for now, we shall indeed meet again soon. Safe travels and good luck against whatever enemies you should encounter during your journeys."

With that, Felogos nods, then turns around, unfurls his lage bronze and green wings. He then leaps forward and upward on powerful legs and begins flapping his wings with powerful strokes. They quickly catch the air, and in a few brief seconds, the dragon his gained about eighty feet of height. Once safely off the ground, he turns and begins climbing as he flies northeast. You watch as he keeps ascending into the sky, and after a minute or so, he disappears from your sight. 

Dust and dirt swirl around as the dragon flies off. Belkas repeatedly blinks, trying to get the grainy garbage out of his eyes and brushes off his cloak. 

To the rest of the group he says, "We are all still alive and in one piece. I would call that a win. I wonder what its real agenda is—stalking random groups of adventurers seems like a strange thing to do unless it is playing with us, like a cat watching a mouse. A huge cat with long teeth. Out of curiosity, do those things breathe fire, or do they spit acid? I've heard both but never had a chance to find out which was true."

Arisa says “Bronze breathe out a blast of lightning, and can push back enemies with their magical breath, from what I recall.   Glad he was friendly!”

"Aye, rather charmin' bloke fer a dragon. Bloody awkward though. Either way, 'twas a rioght excitin' thin' meetin' a dragon fer tha' first time. Now tha's a bloody story ta' tell." Zyllith grinned excitedly, the next moment she looked off thoughtfully before looking back at the rest of the group, "But he brought up a very important matter fer us ta' consider. What shall we be namin' our adventuring group? T'would  make it easier ta' present our selves in certain situations, definitely lend a bit o' authenticity ta' our adventurous trials an' tha' like. I'm sure our bard friend would appreciate it as well." She nodded towards Elion on the last bit but then looked up at everyone else to see what they thought.

"I agree, we need a name." Vernon thinks for a moment. "Should it mention giants? That would mesh with our task, but might attract too much notice."

"Just to throw out some initial ideas: We Might be Giants, The Tortle Troupe, The Fellowship, The Dark Riders or perhaps the Dark Walkers given our lack of steeds, The Nightstone Five, Orcs' Bane, The Goblin Gobblers, The Fantastic Five... "

"With dragons for allies, perhaps something related... the Dragons Hand?"

Osmord chuckles to himself, "Each of us a claw... bringing death to giants, and other dark foes." Worm caws in protest and Osmord rolls his eyes.

"You are too small worm, you and the fiend can be fangs. Tiny and deadly." Worm ruffles her feathers but looks satisfied.