These are my Faithful?

Marcus awoke the next morning suppressing a yawn, his body stretched slowly as he climbed to his feet and looked around. His muzzle scrunched a bit as an odor tickled his nostrils, sniffing he glanced towards where Marigold had propped herself and sighed, it was a rather familiar scent, one his ex had had a few times. A slight smile crossed his face as he walked out of the small run down house to stretch some more leaving Marigold to her privacy, if she woke to him inhaling her scent she'd likely skin him alive.

The early morn was already bustling from what he could see from between the other houses, farmers and field workers were hustling out to tend crops, while herders were leading their flocks out to graze. Marcus had little experience with farm life, he'd been raised in the city so he was more use to the end of the production chain than its initial start. Still he watched the lively villagers going about their business, keeping himself to the shadows fearing a repeat of last night, while the old Dragon Lord might have been thrilled to be constantly worshipped, it made Marcus' flesh crawl. He had been raised in a world where god was a silent observer, science and intellect explained natural disasters as just that, natural occurrences, not wraths of angry god figures.

As the village came alive, Marcus skulked through the back alleys, avoiding the populace as best he could as he made his way towards one of the largest structures in the village. His round about route took him extra time but other than some slack jawed children playing hookie from their chores he was able to avoid causing a commotion amongst the populace again. Naturally at the village heart stood the temple, and Marcus' destination. He always read that in medieval villages, it was usually the church or local physician that had the greatest likelihood of having written record of the past, or better still information of the surrounding land. If he was to become the Dragon Lord he needed to know the task ahead, and while he dreaded seeking out the old fanatics help it could be said the geezer was his best possible lead.. if he could get the old coot to stop training himself on the ground and speak like a person instead of a religious zealot.

The church itself had seen better days, a simple one story building with a high bell tower spoke of how little this church must have mattered to an over all religion. Peeling plaster, broken windows, sun bleached wood all spoke of a church of little concern having fallen into distinct disrepair. Hell, the fact that it was like a haunted house, devoid of life, told volumns about how dedicated the village was to religion, but that was rather obvious in itself from the shrine guardian living conditions. Barely a step above pure squalor, Marigold and Seth better represented beggars than a shrine maiden and monk.

Frowning to himself, Marcus slipped into the run down church, grimacing as his weight made the loose floor boards scream in a loud creaking, groan of displeasure. Like the exterior, the interior was in shocking disrepair. Bare walls, not even pews for seating, were within, rather behind the raised podium, Marcus could see a hammock strung up between two pillars, the old lunatic was snoring loudly, a thick earthen jug sat beside him filling the open air of the church with a thick scent of ale. Was this a religious leader or the town drunk? Stepping closer to the old guy brought on a wave of nausea, the scent of well stale alcohol was thick around the old man, not to mention it didnt seem like personal hygiene was even something the old man rarely indulged. Suppressing the bile rising in his throat, Marcus tried clearing his throat a few times, each cough louder than the last as he tried to rouse the guy from his stupor, when that didnt work he crossed his arms and thought a moment before leaning over to whisper in the geezers ear, "Wake oh ye faithful the god of beer and revelry has seen thy devotion and is here to bestow a keg upon ye..."

Marcus quickly stepped back as the old coot briskly jumped from his hammock, he watched as the geezer began grovelling and genuflecting to the supposed envoy of drink. After a few minutes of kowtowing, the old man suddenly looked up with a frown, his beady dark eyes narrowing as he regarded Marcus, "Oh it's just you again, what do you want with me oh great Dragon Lord?" As if the great scene of last night had not happened, the old guy pushed himself off the floor sourly, burping and scratching his backside as he waddled back over to the pile of garbage which on closer inspection turned out to be a pile of very dirty clothes, without further adieu the old geezer stripped off his rather normal shirt and breeches baring his boney ass to the supposed god behind him before finding a badly stained robe, the symbol of a winged egg was barely seen behind a thick stain of vomit on the chest, Marcus himself nearly retched seeing the old man wriggle into the stained vestments and turned to regard the Dragon Lord, the urge growing even stronger as a dark stain spread out from around the robes crotch and a relieved sigh escaped the filthy drunks mouth. "Shouldnt you be rutting the shrine maiden or something?"

Marcus grimaced, gone was the reverence of last eve, likely only brought on by the filthy old coots drunken stupor, now that the guy had sobered up he was back to being his disgusting self, a mockery of a holy man who was the furthest thing from pious. Again suppressing the urge to empty his stomachs he glared at the filthy little man, "I need records, anything that will tell me about the thousand years since I last arose."

"That's it? Piss off ya overgrown gecko and stop wasting my sleep over shit, we don't have any. Look around, the church is a garbage dump, the old records burned in my great great great grandfather's day, there's nothing left and no one around here is allowed a luxury like a scroll or book, so go back to breeding yer maiden scale ass, or gimme a drink and be useful." The geezer was about as reverent as a sailor and as classy as a two dollar hooker, hell as he turned away the robes backside billowed and a loud fart assailed Marcus' ears, the scent curdled his stomachs and he retreated swiftly, glancing back to see the old drunk pulling off the vestments and wiping his scrawny bony backside before crawling naked back into the hammock.

Fleeing from the desecrated church, Marcus worked his way back towards Marigolds house, this time he walked the actual streets and was surprised by what he saw. Gone was the reverence of the night before, most of the women milling around doing chores and chatting with each other barely paid him any mind, the few who did had little good to say. The initial surprise had worn off, with time to reflect on the old drunk priests words the people in the village seemed less inclined to worship him, it was almost as if the entire populace had done a complete one eighty over night. What words spoken were usually insults and slurs against the apparent 'beastman' or 'demihuman' who had grown too big for his scales to pass himself off as the Dragon Lord.

Marcus frowned returning to Marigolds house, knocking before entering but still blinking as he caught the woman mid change. He was about to apologize when she lifted her hand to stop him, "Don't Lord, all that I am is yours and the sooner I get use to this the better for us both. So please, don't apologize again." Sighing she pulled her dress back down hiding the blush that he had seen was not limited to her face, motioning for him to sit as she knelt beside the worn wood chair, "Did Lord take a walk in the village this morn? I advise against it, as much as the old priest was sincere last night the village more follows the pantheon of Light than your lordship, while they do have a certain thankfulness for the shrines protection, the Dragon Lord is still a god outside their pantheon."

Settling into the chair as he listened he looked to Marigold, "What makes you and your brother different, you seem to embrace it wholeheartedly compared to the other folk?"

Marigold sighed sitting back on her heels motioning to the slum like house that sheltered them, "For hundreds of years our family has watched over yer shrine, Lord. From father ta son, mother ta daughter we have been maintaining the Dragon Lords shrine in our family for generations back. The original Lord saved our ancestor so we strived naught ta forget that boon. Sadly this cycle was ta likely end with ourselves. Ye've seen Seth, the little rat is about as much a monk as tha old priest is a holy man, and meself..." Tears rimmed her eyes as a hand settled on her belly, "Even if yer Lordship was to claim me last night, an accident when a wee lass has left me barren, your maiden cannae give ye sons nor daughters..."

Marigolds head drooped with the reveal she was barren, a waterfall of tears ran down her cheeks to drip upon her dress as she waited to be cast out by the Dragon Lord, yet the boot to dismiss her had yet to fall, instead a scaled hand fell upon her hair and stroked the top of her head soothingly, Marcus shushed her softly as she fell against his thigh, a heart wrenching sob bursting from her chest as her pent up grievance found solace under the caring touch of her Lord. Marcus softly stroked her tender curls, letting her get the sadness that had so gripped her heart in remorse and rage, off her mind. So what if she could not bear children? It mattered not to Marcus, in his old life he himself had gotten the snip, not wanting to risk a pregnancy. He enjoyed intimacy with his ex but start a family? Earth was a mess, if he couldn't solve the issues for the next generation why subject his offspring to a continued crap shoot of a future? So to him, Marigolds admission wasn't shameful in the slightest, even more so due to her own choice being stripped of her by an unknown circumstance.

As she cried, she felt rough leathery hands hoisting her from the floor to cradle her on the Dragon Lords lap, she sniffled and gasped feeling the warmth from his body, unlike the townsfolk who shunned her for her impairment, her Lord still embraced her without comment. Her red eyes flooded anew as her faith in her ancestors belief was rekindled like a blacksmith's forge, when she first saw him, she thought him some monster, she had attacked him yet this is twice he had saved her, first with the wolf-spiders now again rescuing her destitute soul. A new wave of sobs racked her shoulders as she clung to him like a wee babe, bawling like an infant fresh from a womb.

Marcus held her, letting the years of depression and discontent fly from her shoulders, he idly stroked her back, careful of his new claws, as powerful as this body seemed to be it was inconvenient in other ways. In truth it didnt really surprise him the Dragon Lords body was likely built for battle than for diplomacy, his memory fragment showed the old god was like any other god of legend, personal pleasure and power at the cost of all else. Shaking his head he glanced down at Marigold in his arms and smiled, by far this was a greater reward than being a cold, aloof bastard.

Still the touching moment was not to last, coughing Marigold pushed away from Marcus, slipping back to her knees and wiping at her puffy eyes with the sleeve of her dress, her face burned again and she silently cursed herself for being so emotional before the Lord. Glancing up at him though, she could see no reproach in his gaze, "Feel better?" he had asked, his gaze unjudging of her slip in discipline. Marigold could only nod softly, catching her breath and calming her rampaging emotions, one more trying to capture the serene of a shrine maiden.

"Thank ye Lord for the indulgence, yer servant is better now." she replied softly doing her best to keep her voice from hitching, she didnt know why but this scaled bastard always threw her defenses in disorder, "If this one may ask, where did he sneak off ta so early this morn?"

Marcus sighed a bit missing her weight on his lap as soon as she reclaimed her spot on the floor, glancing at her question he shook his head, "I figured I'd ask the old priest that caused the commotion last night about the history while I've been slumbering..." His explanation cut off as he watched Marigold keel over in a fit of laughter, she was doing her best to not directly laugh but it really wasn't working.

"Oh gods, sorry Lord, I know I should not be laughing at ye but he's no more a priest than Seth is a monk. Old Francis came to town some thirty odd years ago, chased out of the near by town for defiling tha daughter of tha mayor who wanted to be a nun. He even had eyes on meself a few years after I'd been born and grew up some, a good kick to his googles straightened that mess right out. As for his priesthood, nah, no holy man tha one. He's lucky our village patron is still slumbering lesr the old fart be smote forth with."

Marcus frowned and shook his head, looking to Marigold still taking mirth in the thought of him meeting the lecherous and foul old goat. Glancing out a window he sighed, "But is it true no records exist in the village for the recent history, I need to learn what's going on in the world to better know what I should do."

"Likely tha sloppy old filth bag told ye about our misfortune a few hundred years ago right? Well let me expand, after we lost our church an' records the surrounding lands put high tariffs on any book or scroll to be brought in 'ere. Without a means ta write down things people started passin' the old tales by word and song. Given a few hundred years alot o' the old know how has been lost. Still if ye really need ta know, we o' the shrine had our own ways of passin' down word o' tha world and yerself. Up for a little hike back up tha mountain Lord?"

Perplexed Marcus followed Marigold out of town following the familiar route towards the shrine, however when they reached the base of the mountain rather than lead him upwards Marigold instead guided him carefully through a twisted briar patch. Marcus watched her as she seemed to know a path through the thorns and sharp branches that left no hitch upon cloth or flesh, and soon lead to another trail around the base of the mountain. Much like the path up the mountain this one ended at another rope barred cave mouth, unlike the one he emerged from this ones ropes were like the doors of a cell, talisman paper covered each rope and the stones around the cave mouth. A warning sign had been placed near the entrance with the words: DANGER! DEVIL ENTOMBED WITHIN. DO NOT ENTER OR DISTURB.

Marcus looked to Marigold and she shrugged helplessly, "Folks are far more superstitious in these days, was put up by the great grand da of me own great grand da. Figgered people'd be less likely to snoop if they thought they'd unleash a hell beast." Leading the way she didnt even pause before ducking one of the thick ropes, reaching back to hold it up for his bigger frame. Slipping underneath was another tunnel like for the shrine only no torches sputtered on the walls, but thankfully the distance was half as long, ending at a pair of double doors covered in dark images of demons and angels in combat. Removing a key from a concealed space on the wall, Marigold unlocked the two doors pushing them wide and inviting Marcus in.