So no shit there we were, neck deep in cultists and trying desperately to cut our way out of a Razmiran temple. The plan had been simple: pose as converts and infiltrate from within. The plan had failed hard. There were dead guards and freed orphans in our wake, and now the entire complex was coming down on our heads. Hordes of silver-masked false god worshiping psychopaths were swarming in every corridor, all howling for our blood. We hadn’t even kept up the ruse long enough to know our way around the place.

“Why aren’t they closing in for the kill?” wondered the rogue.

“We’ve slain a dozen already. I’d be scared of us too,” said the fighter.

“They’re herding us,” said the cynical wizard. That was your’s truly. I hate it when I’m right.

We soon found ourselves in a dead-end corridor. There was a gloating high priest at the top of the stairs behind us, a murder of priests behind him, and a disturbing hissing sound wafting out of the darkness up ahead. It was accompanied by the clank of chains. And when the behir stepped into the light, we knew that we were bound for the Boneyard.

Thinking fast, I did my best imitation of sincerity. “You poor thing!” I cried.

The behir paused, taken aback. There were welts on its neck where the chain had rubbed away the scales. Its ribs were plainly visible through its hide. The beast was starving.

“Did they do this to you?”

The creature nodded, obviously surprised to be addressed in its own tongue. I thanked all the gods that my master had spent the long hours necessary to pound draconic into my skull.

“Well I’ll tell you what. If you promise not to eat my companion—the frightened looking halfling with the lockpicks there—we’ll have you out and dining on cultists in no time. Does that sound agreeable to you?”

The Lady of Dreams must have smiled, because Kazaat the behir nodded his scaly head. It had been an excellent time to Nat 20 the Diplomacy check. With our new ally in tow we managed to turn the tides on the cultists. I even managed to acquire a new cohort. You can see us at tea here.

The thing is, teaching your behir table manners is hard work. When you’ve got a magical beast as your boon companion, there is a great deal of apologizing to innkeepers, repaying farmers for livestock, and appeasing frightened villagers. So if you do find yourself traveling in unusual company, heed the warning of a journeyman mage. The friendship of magical creatures is well worth the effort, but make no mistake: it is an effort. 

Question of the day! Have you ever adopted an unusual pet? I’m not talking the standard “my ranger has a wolf companion” stuff, but the full on “we were going to fight it, but decided to give it belly rubs instead.” Sound off with tales of your monstrous minions down in the comments!


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