Rise of the System Lords (Semi-SI OC, kinda PF)

[Moochy]

Un-Bearable

Bear crawled his way out of the weird pot he'd been buried in. The last thing he remembered — properly remembered — was screaming at a truck as it tried to run him down, one of those foreign trucks that were surprisingly good for being foreign and all. Tried, and succeeded.

Then things had gotten a little fucky after that. There had been a voice, asking him if he wanted to come back. He hadn't been all that sure about the idea, but being alive beat being dead, so… sure, why not?

Next thing he knew, bam, falling over and smashing his way out of a pot three sizes too small for his… body.

"What the hell is this here?" he peered down at himself as he stood, swaying, on two thick strong legs that were absolutely covered in fur. Thick, brown fur. He patted all up his naked body, running his claws through the pelt until he got to his muzzle.

"I'm a mother fucking bear!" he shouted, the last 'ear' devolving into an echoing roar that sent a gaggle of those little lizard dudes scattering. "What's your problem?" he grumbled at them. "I'm the one who's turned into a fucking bear!"

Then that cat man sauntered up, slick as you please, to pat him on the shoulder. "They're kobolds, my fine furry friend. I'm Vengis, you remember your name?"

"Kobolds? So?" Bear kept patting at his body, eventually finding his ears, which he tugged. Why did this feel so normal? He should be screaming, panicking, running up and down flapping his arms, rolling around on the floor… but no, this was just… a bit much.

"So if you're small and physically quite frail, and you like to dig into caves, what's the one creature you're sure to want to run away from when you find them?"

"Bears?" Bear hung his head, huge mitt over his muzzle as he sighed.

"Indeed."

"Fuck. Still the wrong kind of person to get along well in this world, huh?"

Vengis' eyes sparkled. "Well the dragon will make that problem a thing of the past. I say again, I'm Vengis, my good sir, who are you?"

"Would you believe, my friends call me 'Bear'?"

Vengis roared with laughter, his weird chuffing roar like bitten off gulps of air. "Appropriate! It seems this world has a sense of humor after all."

"I'm not sure I want to be part of the joke, but sure. Why not. Anyway, the dragon?"

"Swear allegiance to the dragon, and you're one of us."

"You want me to work for a dragon? That dragon? The big black sucker we had trapped in the… we didn't have it trapped, did we? Y'all agreed to this? Didn't that mother fucker eat one of us?"

"He will take no for an answer, but I don't think you want to throw away your second chance just like that."

"God fucking damn it. I'm a fucking brown bear and now all y'all want me to work for a dragon. That's some dumb shit right there. Fuck. All y'all in the same boat, huh?" Bear took a look at the dragon. A choice he couldn't refuse, just like the fucking mob, but at least he was being treated equally, see how they like it. And the cat dude was right, it did beat being dead. "Shit, sure, why not."

Vengis grinned. "I'm pleased to hear it. The… little guys will get used to you soon enough. You're a bear-kin, as it happens, not just a bear, although you may find it easier to walk like one."

"Just one other question then," said Bear.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think y'all can find any clothes for me?"

***

Vengis had been right, Bear thought, as he ambled his way along on all fours, left to his own devices after being 'sworn in' by the dragon, even if they hadn't found him much in the way of clothing. He'd kind of given up caring about that, though. He was a bear-man, right down to the… bear necessities. He didn't have much to show off — not in public at least — so was just, metaphorically at least, letting it all hang out.

Five of the kobolds rode on his back, four of them surrounded him on all sides and another three were trying to feed him various things, all of them yipping and yapping in their lizard language so hard he slumped down on his side and groaned at a convenient pile of straw, giving up on getting anywhere in this maze, rather than deal with it any longer.

"What do y'all want?" Bear grumbled, but was immediately swamped in sleepy kobolds as they burrowed into his fur, stroking and massaging his bulk. His stomach grumbled, so they carefully set down the food they'd selected for him in the bowls and made sure he had easy access to their contents before making themselves at home around him.

"Oh, y'all just want to treat me like a big ol'space heater, huh? Well great. Sure. Not like I know what else to do about now. Get comfy I guess." He yawned. He wasn't sure if the coming back to life made him tired, or if it was that he'd been dead overnight so hadn't slept. He closed his eyes and thought about it a while.

"Bear!?" squawked a high-pitched voice. "Bear, dude, is that you?"

"That's m'name, don't wear it out," grumbled Bear, head on his paws.

"Shit, it is you! You look… you look good. For a dead guy."

Bear opened his eyes. One of those kobold dudes was standing there, hands on hips, just like… "Frankie? Shi-iiit. What the fuck happened to you? And how'd the shit you know?"

"Died. And I have a nose now."

"Died, same. But now I'm a bear."

"And I'm a kobold." There was a moment of silence between the two, before Frank shuffled on his feet. "Listen, can I… crash with you? Only, uh, Dede kinda—"

"Bullshit, Dede wouldn't kick you out." Frank just matched Bear's gaze for a moment. "Okay, yeah well, I bet it wasn't her idea right? Yeah, thought not." Bear shook his head as Frank looked down at the ground. Bear sighed deeply. "Sure, why not. Looks like I've got a number of these little dudes who don't really know what 'personal space' means hanging about, one more isn't gonna cause too much trouble. Just… go find your own cave if you gotta hang a sock."

"Oh come on!"

"You're a bachelor again, my dude, unless you think you're gonna get back with Dede?"

"Bear, I'm a lizard. I've got the right equipment, kinda, but… come on!"

"Uh huh, I know what you're talking about. It's gonna get real awkward, ain't it?"

"Damn straight." Frankie slumped down against the cave wall, scowling at the far side.

"How's Lucy? She alright?" Bear patted the ground near his belly. Frankie's muzzle darkened but he got up and wriggled his way next to the rest of his new kin.

"Yeah we, uh, go to school together. I suggest you come, they're only making the kids go, but we've got a large contingent of kobolds and them and the dragon all speak Draconic. It'd be a good idea to at least try to learn to understand it. I don't think you'll need much, all the rest of us speak English, but you know what I mean, next time there's some action?"

Bear tried his best to whistle. "Yesterday, or whenever it was, that's just the beginning, ain't it?"

"I don't see how it can be the end. Those mother fuckers that killed us knew where we were. We've got to take 'em out before they launch a counter-attack."

"Do you think the guys know?"

"Fuck," swore Frankie. "I think I need to make sure they do. And I just got back here. Hate being cold-blooded."

"You little guys are cold-blooded?"

"A-yup, think so." Frank answered. "Sucks."

"Shi-iit, explains the company, I guess."

"Well you're not gonna want for company at night, Bear," snickered Frank.

"Aww fuck off, man! Speak for yerself, pretty sure you came out purty for a lizard."

"Yeah yeah. See you later, Bear. Brr, soon as possible."

"I'll be here. Somewhere. Not quite sure I wanna poke my nose up above ground yet. I had a serious wardrobe malfunction and nobody makes clothes my size."

Frank forced himself to get up and head out to look for somebody who knew where the dragon was, trying not to chuckle.

 

[Moochy]

Turn About

Wren followed the directions from the kobolds he'd questioned, his heart hammering in his chest with every footstep, for Wren went to his death.

As the dragon's true lair approached, he could feel it. In addition to the skulls and pelts, the distinct odor of the black dragon, that acidic miasma, tickled his nostrils. There were voices up ahead, so he slowed, but as he drew closer, the dragon itself called him forth. Wren knew enough draconic to converse with the kobolds and the dragon, but that made this task peculiarly harder.

"Come in, if you have something urgent, make yourself known."

Wren's hands clutched at nothing as his little legs took him shakily out from behind the nearest stalagmite and he rounded the corner of the cave, to see the dragon, three humans and Vengis looking at an expertly drawn map on the ground, the whole cave lit by magelight from at least one of the attendant kobolds who were seeing to their master's needs.

"Well? Is there trouble?"

"N-no, sir, I…" Wren began, twitching as the dragon's nostrils flared. The black dragon of sunset closed its eyes and sighed.

"You wish to die, is that it?"

"N-no, sir, but—"

"But you find yourself at odds with serving a black dragon, and I did offer to set any of you who wished it free. Request denied."

"But!" Wren exclaimed, his brow furrowed.

"For now. Halfling, come here, and I will explain." Wren shook, angered and yet… relieved. He would not die, this day at least. "I see you think I reveal my true colors? No, the truth is I need you for one task, and then if you truly wish to be set free, you will be, but make no mistake, you will die. You are far too dangerous to be let live."

"D-dangerous?" Wren's brow furrowed more. "I don't understand. I am but the smallest of Rangers, my arrows would split upon your scales, the beasts I could command would wilt before your breath, be as ripe fruit between your claws. H-how could I be…? Wh-what is it you wish me to see?"

The dragon chuckled, a deep throaty laugh. "You think so little of yourself? Because you are a halfling? Look, this is a map of how this land used to be before… the changes. It is no longer accurate, but as a general guide, it is the best we have. Our objective is to take this city, or as much of it as is left standing. Do you know who from?"

"Sir?"

"From the kin of the beasts I have out in the cowshed up above. Do you know who they are? Or what they are?"

"Umm, they are… bandits? Human bandits?"

The dragon nodded. "Bandits. Rapists. Thieves. Murderers. Scum. What do you want to do with your life, little one? Tell me your name, I wish to know as many of my subjects in person as I can."

"I'm… Wren, Wren Shortbow. My friends who named me thus are… unimaginative, but fair."

"Are they gone?"

"I know not, sir, but I was alone when I found my way to this world."

"If we can find them, I would see you reunited, preferably in one piece. I repeat, Wren Shortbow, what do you want to do with your life? Do you wish to fight dragons because they are there? Would you rage at the sea for its tides? Would you howl at the moon for its motions in the skies? Or would you rather bring justice to those who actually deserve it?"

Wren opened and closed his mouth several times, thinking but unable to answer.

"I give my word carefully, and I try not to intentionally lie, so I will be brief from here. If you feel the quality of my character is a poor fit for you, I will indeed set you free, from this life, but before you fight a dragon because he is a dragon, would you not rather fight and kill thieves, murderers, rapists and thugs for what they have done? Fight for me in this one battle, and if you die doing something noble, you will have died with dignity, instead of for nothing, spitting in the face of people who are suffering from acts rather than circumstance."

Wren hung his head, troubled. "I see, sir."

"I don't think you do. You don't think you are dangerous? If I let you go, you would become a living signpost, a figurehead, a legend. The halfling who defeated a dragon, the evil dragon who enslaved a city, seventy leagues to the South, to the East, to the West, to the North. All who learned of you would flock to your banner, the halfling who stood up against death itself. And you would return, heroic spearhead to their armies, as they murdered their way through the men, women and children I shelter here. I cannot allow that, not to them and most certainly not to me. That is why, Wren, if I set you free, I set you free. And it is why I give you my word, Wren Shortbow, that if you wish it, that is exactly what you will get. Or," the dragon paused until the halfling stopped shaking, "or you can continue in your service to me, and I will have you fight those who deserve it. Give as many of my enemies a chance to surrender as you wish, one of them will surely kill you in the end, but until then, you will have done good, even if at the behest of the evil black dragon of sunset. And you can argue until you're blue in the face about whether good done under the banner of evil is still good, but the children in the caverns here, laughing and playing, are much happier than if the beasts had had their way."

Wren grit his teeth and gripped his fists so hard he felt his fingernails dig into his palms, then took a deep breath and let it out. "Sir."

"Good. Then come, examine this map. Tell us where else, if you know of any places, that the changes have made it incorrect. Frankie," the dragon indicated a kobold with one claw, that was an odd name for one of the little lizard-folk, "has alerted us to the fact that the rest of the bandits who tried to murder us in our beds not only likely control a good part of what is left of Stokerville, but know where we are and will most certainly come for us again. As we have a need for supplies and I have a need for securing my territory, we're going to be taking advantage of our win yesterday to return the favor. I will take as many alive as I can, but if they are of the same caliber as the last lot, their survival is low in my priorities. I care much more about people I can work with without micromanaging."

"Micro… managing?" Wren asked. He understood the words, he was pretty sure, but had never heard them put together like that. The dragon chuckled again.

"I want people who will do the right thing all by themselves, Wren Shortbow. The beasts up above are surly, which is why they are beasts. I will have them pick up litter, wash clothes and peel potatoes. These are easy tasks, easy to spot when they are not done, easy to get right, hard to get wrong. I do not trust them to do anything more complicated, not even look after themselves. Beasts are easy to discipline and correct, but there is a limit to how many I need to do such menial tasks. I will take them if I must, but although I can compel behavior, I cannot compel thought. And should I start eating such beasts as the only true use for those useless dregs of humanity, no matter if it would reduce the burden on supplies for the rest of us, it would only seek to remind those like you who are unsure of their paths of my ultimate nature. And I would much rather you wanted to be my subject than not, for therein lies the path to becoming surly and unmanageable, to joining the ranks of the beasts."

 

[Moochy]

Reflections

We had been lucky again, in a way. With the new distance between Stokerville and my lair, radios weren't a thing. Sure, they could be, given enough power and organization, but these 'kings' — I snorted at that — didn't have access to the first and lacked enough of the second.

I glared at the map. I'd have to get somebody to start making a new one. Scouts, perhaps, in groups of two or three… if that halfling ranger changed his mind about serving me he would be excellent for this. Hmm.

"My lord?" came a voice. I was startled out of my reverie by Tucker. The elder kobold hadn't been to see me privately in some time. I was starting to wonder if my naming him was apt or not.

"Yes, Tucker?"

"I have been thinking much since our first meeting, since pledging myself to you. I ponder slowly at my age, Matron as you call her is much more spry, but I believe I have collected enough wisdom to serve your needs."

"Oh?"

"It was Vengis who made me understand that you are truly a hatchling in many senses of the word. You have been left adrift in this world to forge your own path, but are ignorant of many aspects of your nature that are obvious to an old lizard like myself." Tucker laughed, his yapping throaty chuckle a rasping warble. "And it was Cassandra of the dwarves that made me understand what you needed."

"Cas?"

"Yes, I should have been the one to inform you of your need for metals, far above and beyond simply the riches you deserve — which my kobolds are even now seeking for you in the veins below — you need them to promote healthy scale growth, to remove impurities. I should be the one to tell you why you wished this cave above all others, and in so doing tell you of the other dragons we may one day encounter. Come, sire, to the edge here. Look down."

I humored him, heaving myself to my feet, listening to the cacophony of bullets as they fell around me, before stalking over to the edge of the pool. The kobolds had expertly dug and edged a ramp around further back that led to shallows, but here was a sheer depth. I looked over at the dark, still water, and saw my face. Golden eyes, black scales that shimmered with some sort of mother-of-pearl. Two forward-facing horns jutting from my head. I had grown in the weeks since this had all started.

"I see myself, Tucker."

"What you see, Sire, is a semi-aquatic dragon as capable of breathing under water as he is of breathing air. This is why you chose this cave as your lair, even if you didn't know it. We kobolds are cold blooded, you are not, it is one of the main differences between us. Other than our size." We both laughed at that obvious reminder. "Other than the metal of your bed, Sire, for your health, you should bathe and swim. Also… this world was not like this, you say?"

"No, it was… round. Like a ball. It hung in space and circled the sun. Our moon circled our planet."

"Truly a strange realm," Tucker mused. "Nevertheless, when your world became like our world, it became bigger. Wider. Deeper. And below our world was… another realm. Connected, but separate. The Deep Dark. You rule the above, but you exist below. You must let those denizens of the Deep Dark that may stray here know that you are not to be trifled with."

I looked down into the water. Dimly, I remembered being scared shitless of sharks and other monsters under water, even if intellectually I knew that most sharks didn't even like eating humans and got a bad rap; the worst monsters in the sea were humans, especially if you were a shark.

"In that case, Tucker, I shall take this as tonight's lesson and I shall go for a swim. How goes the rest of the warren?"

Tucker's eyes lit up. "Secondary and tertiary tunnels are being dug as we speak, Sire, with murder holes, spike pits, collapsing ceilings, boulders… we have plenty of traps setup for the unwary, and guards posted for any non-kobolds who venture there to keep them safe. I have had several teams out scouting the dead forest for wood for bows, polearms of all sorts, stakes, barricades… now that we can dig and tinker at full capacity, we rise to the glory of your horde!"

Maybe I hadn't misnamed him after all. "I am very pleased to hear it, Tucker. Don't wait up, I may be some time."

I slipped into the water.

***

How was this supposed to work? I held my breath for what seemed an absurdly long time as I dove deeper and deeper, before tentatively opening my mouth. When I was a human, I would sometimes pretend to breath water by taking water into my cheeks and forcing it back out again. Although the remnants of my human mind screamed at me, I let the fluid roll further and further down my tongue until it… spilled out down my throat? I almost thrashed about in shock as close to freezing cave-water slid down down my neck and somehow filtered out through… gills? I really wasn't sure how it was working. I really wasn't sure if it was something physical or magical, or even partly both, but I inhaled water into my mouth, 'breathed' it down my throat and… back out again seemingly through my neck and upper chest.

I rested there for a long few moments, hung in blackness, just breathing and enjoying the feeling of it.

Once, I had been afraid of sharks. Now, any sharks would do well to fear me.

I peered down into the inky blackness, those nictitating or whatever they were called membranes covering my eyes, and rumbled a challenge. If Tucker was right, anything down here that refused to bow to me would have to die. I could forgive it if this water came from or led to whatever passed for the Deep Dark in this changed Earth, just so long as everybody knew where the boundary to my lair was. And that would mean a justified amount of hunting and killing until everything got the message.

Idly I wondered if there were aquatic beings that I could subjugate and use as an early warning system.

Writhing sinuously I headed deeper and deeper. Whatever passed for my ears swiftly popped, and my vision changed. Color lost all meaning, but what replaced it was an eerie, indistinct yet startlingly useful black and white view of the world. Shapes flitted about that I soon learned were fish after I caught a few in my mouth and made a swift meal of them. They were cold but tasty. Something with tentacles caught my attention and went the same way, fighting to escape. Finding the bottom, I dug my claws into the silt and slunk along in the muck, worming my way through fronds of massive kelp tens of meters high until I came up against giant crab-like creatures minding their own business.

I taught one of the bigger ones to mind its own business, ripping a claw off as it tried to tear my wing off. It scuttled away before I could end it, and the rest learned the lesson even quicker. Crabs made good eating, however, so I vowed to get my kobolds to make a crab line worthy of hooking some of these, and we would celebrate.

As I swam deeper, exploring idly through my new kingdom, I heard them again; the voices. They were indistinct at first, but grew louder as the silence lengthened, until they were all but roaring in my ears.

You have done well, young one! You will obey us! You will heed us! We will reward you! Follow us! Kill for us! Conquer for us! This world will be ours!

Each word hammered against my head like the throbbing of a migraine, it seemed as if the very walls of this underground lake rang with their words, and I was nothing but the tiniest of fish battered by a storm. I felt the weight of their desire pushing down on me, crushing my will, obliterating my spirit, I was nothing before them. A mote. A speck of dust. A grain of sand, a—

"NO!" I eventually shouted back, my tail, wings and claws lashing out blindly and wildly at nothing.

With a new-found strength, I roared my anger at how they dared to try to take advantage of my first moment of solace, slamming my head about until I realized the metallic taste in my mouth was my own blood. As my head cleared, I found I had been swimming and roaring and lashing out at anything and everything, slamming up against boulders and rocky cliffs, tearing great rents in the scenery, churning up the silt and mud until nothing could be seen but a thick mass of dirt, rock and torn vegetation floating in the gray depths.

All of a sudden, the voices were gone again, squashed by a massive effort of will and a not-inconsiderate amount of self-inflicted pain.

I spat, a tooth falling down out of sight as green acid bubbled softly, dispersing.

Fuckers.

What was it they had said? Take this world and claim it, and then give it to them? That was it. That was the key. These voices, as powerful as they were, may have caused this world to become like this, they may even have given me my form, however accidentally they left my mind intact to enjoy it, but whatever kicked them out had just made it that much easier to fix them for good.

If I could claim this world, make it my own, then I could shut those voices out permanently.

Oh, whoever kicked them out I was sure would present themselves as the good and rightful just alternative… but whether they were or weren't, I couldn't let those fuckers have this world either. I couldn't trust anybody but me to run this place. I was pretty sure I was going to be spoken of in hushed whispers by my enemies for years to come no matter what happened, but I'd be damned if I'd let anybody else fuck this world over. I was going to at the very least get powerful enough to keep any of those mother fucking bastard would-be gods out of my neighborhood, and out of everywhere if at all possible.

And I certainly wasn't going to hand it over to anybody else just because they smiled and asked politely at first.

I would teach them not to demand things from me. I would teach them that this world was mine.

I swam up. My lair was secure enough for now. I'd do a proper patrol later, find out if I needed any ironworks from the dwarves just to make sure I didn't spend effort teaching idiot squid beasts not to keep trying their luck whilst I was trying to get some sleep, or something similar.

For now, everything that I saw flinched away and hid the moment my gaze struck them. Good. They were learning their place.

 

[Moochy]

Training Days

Dierdre watched the trucks roll off into the distance with mixed feelings. On the one hand, she resented being 'the little woman', being left here in suspense, ignorant of whether the men-folk would survive or not. Her husband — ex-husband, she had to correct herself, it had been 'until death do us part' and… no matter if he'd come back, he had died. And he was a lizard now. It ripped her heart in two, but she couldn't share a bed with a lizard — had gone with them.

On the other hand, would she want to go with them? To face death? To point a gun at another fellow human being — or any of the other creatures that they now apparently shared the world with — and pull the trigger?

She wasn't as strong as a man. She wasn't sure if she was stronger than Frankie even now. She never disrespected her husband, and Frankie had never hit her. They'd come close a few times, all couples did, and that's when she'd learned how much stronger Frankie was than her. It had frightened the both of them, she knew that. There were other women she knew who had pushed their men until they broke, it left a bad taste in her mouth when… things went bad. She'd seen what the guys had done to one of their own who'd turned out to be a mean drunk, so she'd seen both sides of the fuck-fuck games men and women both played against each other, and so no, she had to admit to herself that the seventy-odd years of progress undone in a single night was the last thing she was going to stand against.

"I don't want my daughter to fight" — those had been her own words. Shit, Dierdre wasn't sure if the hypocrisy or the hubris felt worse. If she didn't want to fight, what right did she have to want to go with the men-folk?

She straightened up and clapped her hands. "Alright ladies, we've got a job to do."

Their prepper husbands had all decided to build their little clubhouse out with all the mod cons in case of nuclear winter, and had stocked it with months if not years of dried food that would give them a balanced if at the extreme unappetizing diet. Now however, the world had ended and with it had come a lot of extra mouths to feed.

"We're going to start a garden. We're going to grow potatoes, some carrots, onions, lettuce… Beth, do you think you can get the kobolds or the dwarves to build us a greenhouse?"

Bethany crossed her arms and pursed her lips. "I'll find Vengis, I think my two can talk to the lizards, and the dwarves might be learning some English, but… any ideas where? I was thinking over by the repair sheds?"

Deirdre nodded, "I like that idea. The sunlight's not as good there, but it's further away from the vehicles, which is always better…"

***

"You're ugly and mean and nobody likes you!" shouted Billy, eyes screwed up tight and an accusing finger pointing at Simon, the wooden sword he'd wielded thrown to the ground. Simon balled up his fists and swung back to hit… to hit… to… he grit his teeth, unable to move, sweat pouring off his face as he fought to lash out, to punch and hit and kick like he had before. Like he always had. He'd always had his way, because… he was Simon. He was the biggest, the strongest, everybody respected him!

Billy opened his eyes. "You… you're a bully, Simon. You're a bully and I hate you. Everybody hates you. You don't have any friends, you just have a bunch of… of… cronies! Yeah! Cronies! Th-that do what you say because they're afraid of you! Well I'm not afraid of you! Leave me alone! I wish you were dead like your pa!" Billy turned and ran, leaving Simon high and dry.

Blood pounding in his ears, Simon slumped. How? How could that little shit do that? How could Billy of all kids hurt him whilst he could do nothing but stand there? He slumped, and it took a while before he realized the rest of the kids had been taken off to another part of the cave, and that one of those lizard people was watching him.

"Whaddaya want?" Simon asked, sniffling, wiping his face with his fist. He wasn't crying. He wasn't.

"Want to know why other child can hurt, yes?"

Simon didn't yet properly understand the yapping language of the lizards, but he could follow what this one was saying.

"Y-yeah, he…"

"He speaks truth, hatchling! Truth hurts. Fazli sees. You make bad human. No friends. Bad human, bad for tribe. Fazli not allow."

"What do you mean, not—"

"Speak proper, hatchling! Speak tribe!" Fazli reached out and slapped Simon across the face. Not hard, but the fact he was struck at all shocked him to silence. "Not human tongue. Come with Fazli now. You make bad human, but Fazli teach! Make good kobold. Strong kobold!"

"Come… with you?" Simon answered hesitantly, doing his best to speak kobold. He held his hand to his cheek where he'd been struck, not sure if he should run, burst into tears, or both. He couldn't have articulated the thought, but he understood the language of the physical. Getting slapped was just What Happened When He Acted Out. That's why it was natural he got what he wanted when he did the same to everyone else. Of course that was the game, discipline the weak where the stronger couldn't see, because the strong didn't care if they could ignore it, but now the game had changed. Nobody came to his rescue, because everybody hated him.

Fazlie leaped. In one moment, she was on him. She swarmed up and around his body, twisted and pulled, and threw him to the ground. The point of a dagger jabbed into his upper back. "You are weak, hatchling! Weak where it counts! Rely on being big, being strong, but what is big and strong if use to fight against tribe? Tribe hate you, you hate tribe, bad kobold. Bad human!"

"Ow! Get off me!" Simon wriggled, his breath heaving as he fought to get air back into his lungs, but it only dug the knife tip in deeper. Whimpering, he eventually stopped moving, softly sniffling and trying not to cry. This had turned into the worst day of his life in recent memory, other than when… when pa… he started sobbing. He was stunned into stopping again when he was cuffed across the back of his head and his nose slammed into the ground.

"Fazli teach you this lesson for free, hatchling!" hissed Fazli, leaning her muzzle closer to the child's ear. "Pain is good teacher. Hurt is not always harm. If Fazli leave hatchling to grow with humans, hatchling end up as beetle in next life. Useless, wrong! No, you come with Fazli now. Eat, sleep, talk, learn, fight! Come. We see goblins first, then you meet new brothers and sisters."

"B-but my m-mom—"

"Hss, Fazli have new hatchling now. All understand rules! Not able to let wound fester! Fazli not keep prisoner, hah! Small cage, poke with stick! Fatten for food. Better use would be as beetle now, yes?" Fazli laughed as she got up and gently kicked the bewildered bully to his feet. "But Fazli know where you sleep, hatchling! Come find if not come with! Regret, you will! Come, come, Fazli teach be great kobold! Greatest!"

Simon looked around the cave, but nobody was coming to stop her, so Simon went along with Fazli as she clambered up the side of the cave wall and into a low tunnel he'd ignored before, and soon the Great Hall was left behind.

 

[Moochy]

Negotiations

It grew warmer as Simon crawled through the tunnels. He realized he couldn't see as well as the kobolds about the same time Fazli did, when he hit his head for the third time and she took a small amount of pity on him and started alerting him to obstacles.

"Stay close, keep eyes open! Half-blind hatchling… hss."

Moments later, three heavy forms swarmed him from all sides — one from above — and he found himself trapped beneath three new kobolds.

"Hsss, poor showing, hatchling is dead. Killed in battle. Pity. Cannot introduce to new siblings. Say greetings to Luzlu, Azu and Jig."

"New sibling?" yipped the first, sniffing him all over. "Am Luzlu, little humans say Lulu. This one stay with us, Fazli?"

"Yip-yip, new sibling! Jig happy for new sibling have! Will teach fish and swim and climb and fight!"

"Azu, am oldest, keep other two in line. Younger than Fazli. Prettier, yip." Azu rolled out the way of Fazli's swift tail-strike. "You are youngest. Yipper. Egg-shell. Do as Azu say, learn fast, yes?"

"I will learn fast," Simon answered, doing his best to speak Draconic.

"Little brother speak funny, yip-yap like hatchling!" Jig snickered skittering off deeper into the tunnel.

"That is because is hatchling. Made poor human. Will now be kobold. You will help make him best kobold, yes?" Fazli asked, nudging herself against Simon.

"Yip!" Jig stood to as attention as he could in the narrow tunnel.

Simon scrambled to as much of his feet as he could manage in the cramped tunnel, trying to commit these kobolds to memory so he could find them again. He was absolutely sure that if he didn't, Fazli would indeed come and find him and drag him by the ears with her no matter his excuse of not knowing how to find her.

"Then first, we visit goblins!" Fazli looked at the three kobolds and her newest 'hatchling'.

"Hsss, gobbos have poor steel, but good armor," stated Azu. "Pink skin not as good as scales. Need armor."

"Dwarves for weapons. Gobbo's make good from scraps, worthy clever tinkerers, but new sibling needs better for fang and claw!" Jig nodded, looking at Azu, who nodded to both her younger siblings.

The five had been moving through the tunnels as they spoke, and now they dropped out into another part of the warren. It was warm down here, a different kind of warmth to the sun above. Smoky torches in sconces were fixed to the sides of the cave walls, around doorways blocked off with leather curtains. Fazli motioned with her head, then pushed her way through. Simon followed.

Inside, an elderly goblin sat working to one side whilst two younger apprentices — much younger, the warband that had found their way to this world hadn't been expecting trouble so was filled with the young and the old, and few in between, with Rarix acting as their head — worked on their own projects.

"Ah, baby-eaters, welcome, welcome!" The elderly goblin's skin was a dark green, but his hair was faded and grey. Large, outsized ears flopped on either side of his wide head, thick hairs almost like ropes exploded out of them. His yellow eyes gleamed in the torchlight, and his yellowed fangs decorated his grinning mouth.

"Egg-stealers, how fare you?" Fazli asked, her tail lashing.

Simon blanched at the banter, but though he could tell there was some rivalry there, he also knew, deep inside, that the dragon had changed things for good between these creatures. They'd have been at each other's throats as soon as they looked at each other not too long ago, but… that had changed. Almost more than his own life had.

"Mmm, yes, with our dragon now in his lair upon his throne, we fare very well! Food is better, home is better, fights are better, yes?"

"Yes, yes, Dogbite, Fazli much enjoys our sparring! Will fight soon with new hatchling, here! Show our dragon strength of kobolds! But! Fazli comes crawling, egg-stealer, help us! Poor hatchling Sss'mon here born was with pink skin! Please to be fixing!"

"Bah! Crawling! Hah! Only crawling you do is sneaking in to steal babies from cribs! Bah!"

"Hss! Egg-stealing scoundrels!"

Simon looked from one to the other, wondering where the line between the two was drawn. "Do you guys… fight like this a lot?" he asked reflexively in English, and was immediately tail-slapped by Fazli.

"Speak tribe! Hss, see what Fazli have to deal with?"

The goblin spat. "Filthy human tongue. Fine, fine! Come, come, show Dogbite your hatchling! Yes, yes… would make good goblin, can smell it on him, tricksy, fighter. Hrmm, must take own lost one, yes? But no, no, no, not this one… this one has too many scales, change mind. Bad goblin. You may keep. Ghark, Yozz, hsh! Go find armor for baby-eating hatchling here! Quick, quick!"

Dogbite dug at the hairs coming from his long, almost horizontal green ears as he peered around Simon's small stature, muttering to himself. "Show paws! Hrm, yes, Dogbite find suitable gloves. Feet… boots harder, yes, not many hatchlings wear boots! Come back for special order you must. If you survive, pink-skin."

Simon spun around as he was poke, prodded, insulted, measured and manipulated into pose after pose, before Dogbite finally told him to wait where he was and disappeared deeper into the goblins' cave system.

The strange, elderly goblin returned with dark-tanned fingerless gloves that still smelled faintly of the cow they'd been made from, and a variety of bone-and-leather pieces of armor that the younger two goblins hurried out with and presented.

"Hatchling will learn how to properly take care of, or hatchling's own bones will be used for next set, yes? Fazli, instruct or bring for instruction! Payment is the usual!"

"Coal when we find it, soap from the fats, good wood for the tools, yes? Metals, hrm? Found some we have, but dwarves trade well for!"

"Hsh! Have metals and keep secret! Pfeh! Baby-eaters! Trade for metals will!"

"Egg-stealers, never! High price would be."

"Deal with goblins, heh! Lost edge you have. Drink!"

"Drink!"

Dogbite brought out some sort of… gourd, which he popped the cork off of and took a long swig from before lobbing it to Fazli, who passed it around to all the members of the tribe. Simon reached for it greedily, but Fazli snatched it away, swinging it to and fro in her claws.

"What would mother say? Mother say hatchling drink like siblings, yes?"

Simon glared at her, then turned his head. He could fight her for it, he supposed, and doubtless lose, and be slapped silly for it, or he could just… take it, and accept the deal.

"Hatchling take," he replied, oblivious to the pregnant pause amongst the onlookers. He popped the cork again and took a swig, and immediately the burning, filthy hooch stung his mouth and made his eyes water. As he coughed, the lot of them burst out into raucous laughter, snatching the gourd back and stoppering it before it could fall and waste its precious contents.

"Pfeh, hatchlings, learn they will, yes. Go now, baby-eaters! Dogbite tires of you!"

"Filthy egg-stealers! Until we must meet again! Bring you better fire-water we will, yes yip-yap!"

***

The next stop was at the dwarves. Simon's arms were getting tired lugging his new armor around, and yet when he tried to give it to any of the kobolds or asked about putting it down he was told that if he dropped it he would be punished, and by how freely Fazli spun a knife in her claws, Simon believed it, so finally, angrily, he kept a hold of the burden and bit down on his curt replies.

Simon's woes were forgotten, however, as they approached the dwarves. A peculiar odor, of smoke and metal, assaulted his senses, and soon the noises he'd been hearing growing louder and louder resolved themselves into the loud, ringing impacts of hammer on anvil.

"Hul! Hul Bronzehammer!" Fazli called. "Show yourself! Shiny stealing thief!"

Simon winced again at the fighting words, but it seemed that the dwarves, too, found the banter entertaining. Memories of plates flying and smashing had him twitching, but he was pushed forwards regardless by Fazli.

A dwarf covered in tattoos and mixed leather and metal armor strode out of what had to be a forge, wide thumbs hooked through his britches. His fire-red hair was tied back severely and he had on the thickest hide gloves Simon had ever seen. Muscles bulged on top of muscles as the squat creature — almost as wide as he was tall, not fat but thick — approached with a twinkle in his eyes and a faint grin on his mouth.

"Greetings to you, Fazli Swiftclaw, this is the one you had your eye on? Hmm, don't think much of him. Bad attitude. Scrappy though, I'll give 'im that."

Simon's gaze pitched at the ground as he understood very little of what the dwarf said, but none of it sounded good.

"Fazli bring new hatchling, yes. This is one, Sss'mon, makes bad human. Heading for beetle. Less use, even. Fazli take, make good kobold."

"I know of this one. He makes trouble everywhere he goes, fights everyone he doesn't like, and he doesn't like anybody. That right, pink skin?"

Simon's ears burned in shame and he answered noncommittally. He understood enough of the dwarf's words to know he was being dressed down, called useless and a burden. He was used to it from his parents, but for the dwarves to start in on it too?

"Hss! Make good kobold, Hul will see. Learn to fight for tribe, not with. Fazli will take good care of new hatchling, but hatchling is without fangs, no claws, no tail! Poor pathetic hatchling, Hul take pity?"

"Yes, yes, you know the price?"

"Coal, blackrock, metals, rough shiny stones. Yes, yes, plenty are the kobolds, good at digging is our tribe, payment we make. Luzlu, pay up."

Luzlu fiddled with a small pouch at her waist, and threw them to the dwarf, who snatched them out of the air.

"Ahh, gemstones! These will polish up nicely! Yes, yes, we can use these. Alright, Fazli, your hatchling will have his fangs. Tal! Gresh! Fetch the daggers." Hul turned, then studied Simon intently.

"Be glad Fazli has taken yeh, pink-skin. Nobody else wants yeh. Aye, I see your rage, try it, I'll flatten yeh! Beaten sense into yeh, has she? Aye, you'll learn. Next time I see yeh, we'll see if ye's worth spit."

Simon tried hard not to sniffle and sob. Nobody really did like him. Why could they all tell him so freely, when he couldn't do a thing? Stupid dragon. Stupid magic spell. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Stupid… stupid Simon.

"Here, pink-skin. Here are your new fangs. Every hatchling needs their fangs." Simon's breath was knocked from his body as a belt was shoved into his stomach, upon which were fastened two smaller daggers. Simon fought not to drop the rest of the armor he was trying desperately to hold onto, and at the same time grab the daggers. "You will take care of these, hatchling, or you will regret it. For every speck of rust I find on these, I'll take it out of your hide, you hear?"

"Yessir," mumbled Simon.

"I said, do you hear?"

"Yes sir!" Simon said louder, one arm bundling everything into a heap whilst the other wiped at tears and snot.

"Fazli, little one has no… honestly. Here! Put your things in here. Take care of this bag and it will serve you well for a long time."

Simon finally dropped everything in a heap as he was forced to take some sort of jute bag. He cringed away from the inevitable slap that would follow, but the lack of impact was almost as much of a shock. In the silence that followed, he ducked down and stuffed everything into his bag. That got him a slap and his bag was upended again.

"Pack away neatly!" Fazli said. "Pack neatly, retrieve easily. Pack like animal, burrow like animal! Hss, honestly!"

"Yes ma'am!" Simon replied, then, brow furrowed, did his best to put the armor into the bag, followed by the daggers.

"See? Now, come! Eat, rest, then we learn!"

Jig and Luzlu melted away into the darkness along with Fazli, but Azu waited for him.

"Watch step, Egg-shell. We go to your new home, true kobold warren. You will be safe there, but must learn to be safe getting there. Learn to speak tribe, learn to see in dark, learn to be proper sibling. Come."

Taking a deep breath, wiping the last of the tears out of his eyes, Simon followed. He didn't seem to have much of a choice; a tribe who wanted him, or everybody else who didn't.

 

[Moochy]

Actions and Consequences

Dahen Steelarm slapped his new friend Owen Russel on the back as the two commiserated with some of the frankly awful but thankfully alcoholic base moonshine.

"You are strong man, strong! Your friend you miss, but he fell in battle! Sing his songs, Owen of Russel!" Dahen said, slamming his fist down on the table before quaffing — which mostly seemed to involve spilling a good deal of it — a flagon of the unofficial pub's 'finest'.

"Battle? Fuck. The dragon killed him. The dragon I sold my soul to. That beast killed him and ate him!"

"Few are those who challenge a dragon, Russel! Fewer still those who live to tell the tale. Such is life."

"It's not fair. It's not right. I—"

Russel's maudlin reminiscing was interrupted when Evans barged into the 'pub' — really just the off-duty mess-hall canteen that the guys had decorated to be a little less spartan — and exclaimed with a frantic air that the dragon was calling an assembly.

"I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind," said Russel, hopped up on liquid courage.

***

I stood before my people, South of the four football field areas that had so recently held a nascent village of rejects and lost souls captive. Vengis has cast his spell that let me speak to everyone, he was getting better at it; it lasted longer and seemed to carry further each day. I wanted him to teach others how to do it, but so far hadn't found anyone good enough to pick up the trick. Give it time, I thought.

"Gentlefolk, the last time we stood here, we were three peoples. Invaders, captives, and captors. Now we are all one people, united under my banner. I would like things to stay that way!"

I paused, eyeing the crowd. Amusingly enough, a few of them were bored. The kobolds seemed to be to a lizard enthralled. The humans that had 'captured' us all were an impassive wall, and the rest were at least listening dutifully.

"The invaders who came to murder, rape and pillage our good community here were vanquished, but their dregs remain, back in the city. In Stokerville. Tonight we will ready ourselves and talk of tactics, for tomorrow we will head there to make war. We will find them, we will fight them, and we will vanquish our foes. As with you all, I will offer my protection, out of the generosity and kindness of my heart—"

"Bullshit!" interrupted a voice.

I snarled, but then took a deep breath and exhaled, slowly, focusing my gaze on the insect that had dared insult me. I stepped forwards, the crowd parting like smoke, as I reared my head up above the guy. "Would you like to say that again?"

"I said bullshit!" the man said.

"Russel! Shut the fuck up!" hissed one of his friends, but I lifted a claw and gently signaled for peace.

"Explain. Or I may have to do the one thing I said I would not. Be quick, and precise."

"I said bullshit, y-you said you'd never hurt us! But you killed my friend!"

I tilted my head, "I do not understand, I have not harmed a single hair on your head since you have pledged yourself to me. In my generosity, I allowed you to not only live—"

"But you said you wouldn't hurt m-me! Us! My friend is dead. Why?"

"Who…?"

I was aware, peripherally, that it was just… not done to talk back to a dragon. My instincts were screaming at me to turn this insect into paste, but I bit down on them. I had, after all, given my word. I would sort this confusion out, and then, maybe, I would kill him.

"I-in the truck. Y-you killed him!"

Ahh! The soldier! On the way here!

"In my defense, he was there, I was hungry." Why was this 'Russel' more angry now? I only spoke the truth. "What is it you want me to do? I was captured, caged like a wild beast, subjected to inhumane conditions. You are all lucky he was the only one I killed. Had I wanted, I could have killed you all. And now here we are, friends, and you spit in my face?"

"What do I want? I want him t-to not be dead!"

"Well he is de…" I paused, held up a claw for silence, then turned to Matron. "You brought all those who perished in the fighting back to life?"

Matron stirred, blinking. "N-no, we… gave them a new life. We have an… agreement, of sorts, with our god. He tips the scales in our favor when we ask for a member of our tribe to be returned to us. Most come back through the egg, but… but sometimes, when we must, we call upon the Great One Beyond, and he delivers us our tribe folk safely back."

I looked between her and Russel, and back again, several times. "Tell me," I asked eventually, "can you bring back his friend?"

"N-no, my lord, we would need at least a piece of his body, and—"

"And I have one!" I declared, then looked off to one side, and added, "I think, How much do you need?"

"Just a piece, my lord, any piece. No more."

"Then I have that." I gestured to one of the kobolds in the crowd, "Go to my old lair, search the corners, bring me any human skull you find there." The kobold ran off through the murmuring crowd. I turned back to Matron. "So, you can bring him back?"

"N-no… not… not the same way." Matron shared a glance with her 'sisters' — though several of them were definitely male — before speaking with me again. "We need… a jewel. A big jewel. Expensive. All such magic requires an offering, and to give a new chance, we require oils. The oils we find here are so pure, so bountiful, it is easy to give those who have died recently new life. But that one… he has traveled further Beyond."

"Meaning?"

"A different spell is needed." Matron bowed her head.

"Which requires a… large, expensive diamond?"

"Very, very expensive. Thousands of gold pieces. At least ten thousand! More is better!"

I had no real yardstick for gold pieces to Earth money, but I shrugged, before fixing my gaze on Russel. "I will grant you one chance, Russel, for you will do two things for me."

"What?" Russel balled up his fists, swaying slightly. Drunkard.

"One, you will fall on your hands and knees and beg my forgiveness, here and now, from me and from everyone. And two, you will have a mission. You will be sent to find and retrieve the most expensive piece of jewelry you can find. At least a million dollars worth of jewelry. A diamond, or similar gem," I added, looking to Matron. She nodded in confirmation.

"Jewelry?" he asked, confused.

"And until both of these have been done, in public, before all here who have seen you insult me, you are demoted. Now, beg. On your knees, down, beg."

Russel swayed back and forth a moment, more sober than he had ever been in his life. Very slowly, he got down on his knees.

"Mean it," I said. "I can make you do a thing, but only you can put your heart in it. And let me tell you, dog, that if you don't put your heart in it, I will pull your heart out of it."

"Y-y-you ca-can bring him back?"

I shook my head, "No, not by myself. But Matron can, with your help. So beg forgiveness, because I am giving you your life and a chance to save another, in spite of your behavior."

Very slowly, breathing deeply, Russel put his head to the ground. "I-I'm sorry! I'm SORRY!" he shouted. "He's my friend and I miss him and you you… you killed him and it hurts and I want him back!"

"And?"

"And I-I-I was r-rude! Very rude! To your greatness! I won't do it again! Just give me a chance!"

I nodded. "Somebody, get him a collar and leash him. I am magnanimous, but I am not without pride. You spit in my face, you will pay the price. You will not speak unless I give you leave. You will travel with the men, but you are a dog in my eyes. You will fetch me the jewelry, or you will die trying. Clear, Dog?"

Russel nodded, eyes wide, as my jaws snapped closed inches from his face. He immediately bowed his head again, biting the dust.

"Matron," I said, tearing my gaze away from the whimpering dog as the kobold — Zev if I recalled correctly — rushed to the stage and handed me a skull. I had gnawed the flesh off of it days ago and cast it aside. There was a big hole in the top of it where I'd been playing with it. "Is this enough?"

"We shall see, but first we should ask him if he wishes to return."

"Agreed. And now," I returned to the stage as, behind me, somebody fastened a bright red, spiked dog collar around Russel's neck, "I will say something about what has just occurred."

I glared out over the crowd. "Everybody gets one," I said, roaring, waiting until the echoes died away before continuing. "If I have wronged you, you get one chance to speak your grievance to my face. Dog has disgraced himself," I pointed a claw to the subject formerly known as Russel. I could hear the neck-snap as over a hundred gazes turned his way. "Let it be known, right now, that is the last time I am disrespected thus, no matter the cause. Dog disgraced himself not for bringing me his grievance but for bringing such contempt in how he did it." I pondered for a moment. "When this is over, I shall hold court once a week for public issues. For private issues, I will find time. I encourage you all to bring me issues you think can only be solved by such an audience. Do not waste my time, or you will live precisely long enough to regret it. Am I understood?"

I waited until everybody answered before continuing.

"Good. Now, we shall go over the plan my advisors and I have come up with, any improvements will be discussed, changes implemented as necessary, and then we shall rest, for tomorrow we all have a big day! Full of glorious battle!"

 

[Moochy]

Double post today, now we're at parity.

---

Speak of the Devil

"This spell will be difficult," Matron said, padding around the skull which was set onto a makeshift plinth. "It is intended to be used with a corpse, not a skull… but we will make do. Avrex is skilled with the beyond, she will draw the spirit forth."

"Begin."

Avrex, a thin and wiry kobold, painted in stark black and white, murmured in a strange tongue that grated on my ears somehow, rang my teeth, rattled my bones. She seemed to gesture smoothly yet intently as she weaved her way around the skull, before her murmuring, weak voice rose to a crescendo, and a sudden stillness came upon the small chamber we were standing in. She placed a paw upon the skull, and her body went slack, though it remained standing.

The four candles, set around the plinth, wavered and suddenly glowed blue… and echoing blue sparks bloomed in the skull's empty eye sockets. As if from a great distance, or through thin walls, I heard screaming and shouting.

"Oh god it's the dragon! He's going to kill me! Oh god! He killed me!" Avrex' muzzle opened, but it was not her voice that came from it, it was a man's.

The lights in the eye sockets flared, and then… I felt the gaze of a dead man upon me. Ah, is this what it was like?

"You killed me, dragon. Why do you bring me back? To kill me again? I am dead, wyrm, I can no longer be threatened. I will not speak with you." Avrex again spoke for the skull.

"Hold, spirit, I am not the one who seeks you. I would leave you dead, but answer this question and there may be no more. Would you return to life, for the sake of your friend?"

For a long moment there was silence, and I wondered whether the spirit of Tuttle was as spiteful as it had said it would be, but then that gaze flared to life once more, and it looked at me. "I would return. You can do this?"

"Your friend Russel would risk his own death, has bartered his own life, just for the chance to see you returned. I will at least honor his fortitude. Are you willing to share his fate?"

"My fate is done. Return me to life, and I will share another's."

Avrex slumped more, drooling, as one by one the candles went out, and with a scream, the glow in the skull dissipated. After a long few moments, she opened her eyes, and nodded. I turned and made to leave the ossuary.

"Then Dog has a task. For his sake, he'd better not fail."

 

[Moochy]

A wild post appears. Things are heating up! If you're enjoying this, let me know!

---

Machinations

"Yo, yo, Nails? That you?" came the voice through the radio.

"Negative, Nails bought it," replied Trin as he changed gears. The gearbox made a horrible grinding noise, but eventually it took and the truck accelerated again. "Me and Niner're on the way back though, with Rawlins and Scully." Trin had been calling on the radio every few minutes for the last few miles, but had only just got a reply.

"Trouble?"

"Yeah, some. We had some losses, nothing you need to worry about though, you always say only the weak die. I guess Nails was weak, yeah?" Trin peered at the GPS. It was… not behaving well. It shouldn't have been working at all, but it was at least showing something, so small mercies. Fuck. Not like they didn't know the way, it was only the one road, even if the road was a lot longer than it should've been. The stupid thing had said it was a thirty minute drive eight hours ago. Every so often it would insist the drive was a few minutes shorter, almost as if up there, somewhere, the satellite was seeing the world and time differently than down here. It didn't make any sense.

"Fuck, the boss-man won't like that," the voice on the radio answered.

"Yeah well, I got a surprise for him. The place is fully under our control, so we've come back for the rest."

"A surprise, huh?"

"Ayup, in the vans. Supplies that'll make a real difference around here."

"Glad to hear it. Boss was expecting you guys to be back this morning."

"Fuck that noise, it's further than he thinks it is and we had a big fight last night. He doesn't like it? He can tell me himself."

"You got some balls on ya, Trin."

"I survived taking on the fucking militia, I earned that much. Get the fucking garage open, I want these vans inside toot fucking sweet, hear me?" Trin spat into the mic.

"Yeah yeah, keep your fucking dick in your pants."

"Just let us in, I don't want this shit out on the streets any longer than it has to be. Five minutes and we're there, unless you pricks have lost control of the streets?"

"Five minutes, Trin. Jesus, what crawled up your butt and died?"

"Your mother."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you too." Trin shut off the radio and glared over at Gullins. "There, I got us in."

"Good," Gullins said. "I know you gotta do as I say, but I'll say it again so you can't say you forgot. Don't give us away. If you get the chance to turn on your old friends, you'll take it. If you wanna keep bein' a person like me, you'll actually fight for the dragon. I'll put in a good word. Otherwise keep out the fucking way."

"Fuck you. I don't gotta like being a slave, you sick fuck."

"Yeah, yeah, so big and brave being scum working for your 'Sicario' fucker. You know what? If this all goes fucking sideways, I hope you bite your own fucking arms off you piece of shit. Now shut up and drive."

***

Julio watched on the monitors as the goddamn convoy pulled up to the parking lot. He pushed the button to get the guys to open the gates, then disinterestedly went to get a cup of coffee. And the coffee machine was out. Because of course it fucking was.

He set to making a fresh batch, because he just knew that he'd get yelled at if there wasn't any, despite it not being his job to make it, and he wasn't the only one to drink it… the monitors could watch themselves for a while.

Several teams had been back and forth this morning already, they had this place locked down, nothing was going to — he spat the coffee out when he returned to see monitors out and gunfire erupting around the underground parking lot. He hastily started signaling for somebody, anybody, listening to start the counter-attack, and that's when the power went out, and with it went the hastily cobbled together cellphone network. The building shook, and a distant shattering tinkling noise followed by car alarms followed. Motherfuckers, they'd set off some sort of bomb? What the fuck was happening?

***

Filip knew things had gone wrong the moment that the truck roared back into motion as they crowded towards it, the shouts and cries of a handful of the Kings going silent under the grunting reverberations and sheer weight of the engine. Boots hit concrete and then the gunfire started.

Filip fired back, of course, but he was up against men in body armor. Time to shoot these fools in the face! He pulled his second piece out of his waistband and took aim with both, but then a jet of water slammed into him and sent him flying. He impacted one of the pillars and felt his body spin, seeing stars, as his guns slid across the ground.

He had to have hit his head, because as he looked up he saw a bunch of little lizard dudes fanning out around the now circled trucks, darting in and out of the gaps between them, gesturing.

Sprays of water that sent men flying, clouds of vapor that made them crumple, hacking and coughing until they were put out of their misery by swift application of hot lead, fascinating patterns of light and color that…

…Filip blinked, shaking his head, where was he? What had he been doing? Oh, right, he… DRAGON!

A weird cat-man leaned down and smiled at him, showing far too many fangs. "My friend, I come to you with an offer of a lifetime," the cat-man said. Filip gulped.

***

Tak and Rat pulled their armor tighter and jabbered happily at each other as they jumped out of the van and skulked into the shadows. Goblins gonna do what goblins gonna do best; fuck shit up!

"Come on! I wanna get my hands on some of that human loot! Ooh, look, see!" Tak bent down and picked up two mismatched weapons from a dead human. "Mm, smell that? Gunpowder! Lovely."

"Ooh, yes, lucky you are! Has one, I can?"

"Yes yes, best friend, but you'll owe me a favor!" Tak waved one of the guns around, holding the handle lightly between his long fingernails.

"Mm, then I'll take this one, and owe you something tasty, like a leg! We can eat these humans, right?" Rat idly unsheathed his blade and hacked the head off one of the humans that got a little too close. He licked the blade thoughtfully; there was something off about the taste, but a good boiling would solve that, probably.

"The dead ones that ain't ours, yeah?" Tak asked, cocking the gun. He took aim at another of this fortress' humans and pulled the trigger. The weapon jumped most excitedly in his grip, and the human spun, his suddenly limp body sending a spray of blood into the air. Beautiful!

"Ooh, goods, I'll do one up in a stew then. Hey, hey, smell? Smell that? Oil! You finkin' what I'm finkin'?" Tak straightened from where he'd been looting the dead body — never forget to take what's yours, even in the middle of battle, as long as you don't lose your head doing it — and slapped Rat on the shoulder, pointing.

"I dunno, but where are we gonna get twelve dire hamsters and a large wedge o' cheese big enough in a place like this?" Rat answered, a far away look on his face.

"Not that, but I like where's you goin' wid it. Naah, I mean… times to makes the kaboom?"

"Ooooh, big kaboom! Yeah, fuck 'em up!" Rat punched one fist into his other palm.

Tak and Rat eyed the massive cylinder of what had to be fuel-oil or similar — they couldn't read, but the signs they'd learned made it obvious enough — and the extra collection of flammable materials stored in canisters all around, and now wore an expression that many from Earth would recognize as 'all their christmases come early at once'. They'd tracked the smell outside, and had skulked around the odd standalone building with the noisy machinery in it and all the lightning bolt signs until they'd realized that the door was very locked but that the interesting tank of boom-juice was all that they realistically needed for a good fucking old time.

"Oh, oh, Rat, all this oil… you know what Rarix would say?"

"Fuck shit up and watch it burn?"

"Yeah, that's about right."

The humans that worked for the dragon had a lot of wonderful, wonderful toys that Tak, Rat and the others took to like ducks to water. And one of them was the remote-controlled detonator.

***

I looked down at the pathetic excuse for a human. Caught by a hypnotic pattern, spared because we needed somebody useful and he seemed more inclined to talk and less inclined to snackify himself than several others had before him. He swore himself into my service eagerly, and I felt his meager presence bolster my own forces. Another beast, most likely, but useful for now.

"Get him to explain what forces we're up against," I ordered Vengis, as I lounged angrily in the back of one of the largest trucks. I wanted to be out there, fighting, but until we had an understanding of what we were up against, or until shit hit the fan, I was leaving my presence as a surprise.

"I think the fighting's brought most of the enemy out to play, but he says we've got a fortress of sorts around us. Scouts are telling me the market out front is empty of non-combatants, and our forces are now clearing out the stragglers. No losses so far, they don't know how to fight against magic. The rest of this place is mostly empty except for the guards inside making sure nobody makes off with anything interesting."

I nodded between one and the other as Filip rattled through a swift explanation of what we were up against, and Vengis filled in anything missing with reports from the kobolds that sneaked in and out of the truck to converse with him in low whispers. I listened intently, very glad I could understand these creatures even if they couldn't easily understand me.

We were in the multi-level parking lot of a mall. My forces had control of the first floor and were heading down to clear out the lower level before heading inside the mall proper. Outside of the barricaded parking area was a market, made up of bartering stations for the stuff from inside the mall, appropriated by the Kings. Quite a neat little arrangement, really, it would benefit us to take it o—

There was suddenly an Earth-shattering kaboom, and the truck I was in rocked slightly from the blast, before I heard the tell-tale sounds of shattering glass falling, people screaming, smelled the smoke and heard the car-alarms go off.

I took a deep breath and put my muzzle in my paws. "Okay, what happened?"

A minute later and I found out, as two of the goblins were dumped in front of me, looking slightly apologetic and a lot pleased with themselves.

"In our defense," said one, Tak, I think his name was, "we were left unsupervised."

"We also had some remote detonators!" piped up Rat. "Wanna go with another?"

I sighed deeply, then nodded. "Damn right I do. Let's watch shit burn."

As the lighting failed all around us, the parking lot and presumably the entirety of the mall was plunged into relative darkness. Which suited me and mine just fine, as my kobold and goblin boys could see in the dark.

"Pair up, humans and those who can see in the dark, kill anybody that resists."

 

[Moochy]

As I may be busy tomorrow, enjoy an early post!

---

Bear Necessities

Frank heard the yelling from up ahead and instinctively ducked, flattening himself against a wall. A bullet zinged off the paintwork, inches from his skull. He turned, aimed and pulled the trigger, and his fucking gun almost took his arm off as it bucked. The weight of it threw him off, and he stumbled, off-balance long enough for a gang-banger to give him a kick that, if he'd still been a human, would likely have put him out of action. As it was, it left him breathless, but Frank didn't have time to think. He leaped at the man and, absent of knowing what else to do, swiped his claws and bit. Something fleshy tore.

It was, as they say, a very low blow. The man howled an extremely high-pitched wail of intense agony and folded, but not before three more of his friends descended upon the kobold and began kicking the literal shit out of him.

"Help! Fucking help! They're gonna—"

"That's right ya little fuck! I'm gonna crush yer fukken head in! Die you little—"

"FRANKIE!" echoed a roaring, deep-throated voice, and Frank looked up, still covering his head with his claws and tail, long enough to see his friend charging at a dead run down the concourse.

"Bear!" shouted one of the four, just as a mitt the size of a dinner-plate slapped his shit sideways and sent the guy careening across the hallway, where he landed in a heap and didn't get up.

"That's ma fukken name, asshole! Don't! Wear! It! Out!"

With each syllable, Bear swiped, stomped, head-butt and otherwise brutalized the four until they stopped moving, having lost enough of their senses and inner red that they didn't feel like getting up again.

"You alright, Frankie?" asked Bear, bringing his muzzle down to poke at his friend with a broad nose. Frankie reached out to take a solid hold of his friend's neck-ruff and pulled himself to his scaly feet.

"I think so, partner, now you're here. Fuck, I thought I was gonna die. Again."

"Nah, not gonna let that happen. You okay to get the fuck outta here?"

"Dunno, hurts a bit…" Frank stretched and winced a little. Bear rumbled something, then looked up and down the open mall.

"Look, don't make a fuss about it, but climb on. You can shoot, right?" The bear-kin bapped the back of his huge paw against the kobold and his rifle.

"Yeah, I can. Kicks like a mule, but I can shoot." Frank cocked the rifle with one hand and lifted his chin defiantly.

"Then I'll carry you, you keep point, alright?"

"Sounds like a fucking plan, Bear. Where do I… how's that?" Frank clambered up as Bear lowered his shoulder, and the kobold gripped with his knees and braced himself with his tail around Bear's neck.

"You can grab tighter than that, I can barely feel it."

"Bear-ly. Hah!"

"Yeah yeah. Let's fukken go!"

Bear roared defiantly as he barrelled turn after turn of the mall's concourse, swiping at assholes he could reach whilst Frank took out the assholes he couldn't. One asshole got a little bit too frisky and took aim at Bear as the pair bear'd down on him, but by the crunch his neck made as Bear shoved him through a window and into the shop beyond, he wouldn't be getting up.

Unfortunately, Bear was not feeling too hot either. He limped as he tried to get up, and crashed to the ground, wheezing.

"Hhrnn, shit, fucker got me."

"Fuck! Where? You're not gonna fucking die on me, man! No fucking way! Show me! I'll… get help, I'll…"

Frank jumped down, discarding his gun next to his friend as he ran to a nearby dress and tore it off the hangar. With his sharp teeth, he shredded it into strips as he pelted back to his friend, who was breathing heavily on his side, a patch of bright red blood spreading on his chest.

"No, no, no! Here, hold this! Put pressure on it! That's what they say, right?"

"I'll… I'll be fine, alright?"

"Yeah, just don't move! I'll get… help! Help!"

Frank legged it to the smashed window and hopped through it, and had to thank his lucky stars. "Guys! Help!"

Bear looked up as four more kobolds jumped in through the shattered display window and came over to him, yipping and yapping in their weird little lizard-dude language.

"They're here to help, Bear! Just hold still! You'll be alright!"

"Help? How're those little… FUCK!" One of the kobolds swiftly dug a claw into the bullet wound on his chest. He roared in pain, breathing deeply, chest heaving, as a little plink noise followed the shell being removed. The kobolds chattered to each other, and one of them dug out some herbs from a little bag, spat in them, smushed them up into a mushy paste and then stuffed the resulting mass into the hole before swiftly trussing Bear up in the strips of cloth. Then they chatted animatedly at Frank.

"What're they saying?" Bear asked, as he watched the four glance his way and back to his buddy.

"Well, first they're glad they got to you in time. They say… you'd probably have been okay, but since… oh, okay, that, ah, that explains it… yeah, he's not my…" Frank switched languages and yip-yapped at his new friends until they all looked at one another, then asked a couple more questions, to which Frank answered in kind… and then one after another they yapped the same 'word' back to him.

"Okay, they kinda don't believe me, so… don't get mad, alright?"

Bear sighed, wincing as it hurt. "Out with it, Frankie."

"They think I'm a ranger. And they think you're my mount."

"You tamed me? I tamed you, more like." Frank and Bear looked at each other. "Okay, that sounds at least as weird. Let's never say that again."

"Yip." "Yap." "Yip." "Yip"

"Fuckers. Fine… okay, alright, come on then, Ranger Frankie, let's get the fuck outta here before anything else—" That was when there was a massive explosion outside, and the lights went out. "Well shit."

"Don't worry, I got this one. Think you can carry all of us? I can see pretty well in the dark these days, and these guys are… I was gonna say loaded for bear, but you know what I mean."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Bear grumbled.

"Don't take it like that! It's like that movie with the talking polar bear, only you're… not a polar bear." Frankie grinned, as the rest of the kobold squad nodded, though clearly not all of them understood.

"You mean it's like the book you uncultured swine," Bear retorted.

"All that reading and yet you can't speak draconic. Don't worry, I'll handle the talking."

"I am so going to regret this," Bear shook his head, putting his paw over his muzzle. Then he straightened and ducked his shoulder down again. "If we make it out of this, you're getting me some armor."

"And a saddle?"

"Don't push your luck."

"Call it a gunnery position."

"Maybe." Bear paused and shook himself. "Alright then. Ranger Frankie and his Bear Bear are gonna fuck some shit up! Motherfuckers let's gooooo!"

Bear gathered up his new crew, loped experimentally towards the front of the shop then, gaining confidence and speed, leaped back out through the totaled display window and back into the fight.

 

[Moochy]

Scars

Scar pointed where she wanted her two-legged orc-mount to go, the big green guy holding a rifle that was clearly meant to be bolted to the ground and waving it around as if it were a toy.

Pete was thoroughly enjoying himself, ever since learning he was apparently mostly bulletproof. Mostly, because although he was a fucking big green target, was apparently thick skinned enough that although they stung like a bitch, the bullets from the guns didn't seem to do much but pepper him up a particularly angry steak.

Brian, on the other hand, was discovering that elves have a way of moving that got him out of the way of most attacks and let him lay the smack down on anyone stupid enough to get near to him. And there were a lot of stupid people.

Scar had got Pete to add an extra couple of places where her claws could find purchase, and would happily run up the orc's back, sway left or right, duck out of the way of stray bullets coming her way, then pick off anybody stupid enough to think such things could seriously hurt the green monster, and throw herself through the air to bite the face off anybody who didn't get the message the first time. The three of them were pretty much unstoppable, and she even liked it when Pete patted her on the head after scooping her up from a flying attack-bold mauling.

"I like this one," Pete said.

"Good, good, you've got a pet kobold. You're gonna make sure you feed her and change the litterbox or whatever it is she needs, right?"

"Fuck off, Brian, she's house-trained. I mean she's not a pet!"

"Keep telling yourself that, dummy. Look at ya."

"Yeah well not my fault she's so small and… oi! Fuck you!" Pete spread his legs just enough to get a good solid stance, then fired the low-slung almost-artillery-gun from the hip at the fuckers who had just popped a cap at him. The retort would've been deafening to him before, but now it just sounded like the sweetest music. It also blew holes in concrete the size of dinner plates, so a real win-win there. And it made fuckers like that really, really dead. Scar squealed energetically and he reached over to his shoulder to give her a high-five. He then glared at Brian. "One word."

"I'm not going to say another word about your little lizard girlfriend."

"Oi!"

"Hehehe… anyway! Look, I think we're here, wherever it is that she wanted us to go?"

Scar was jumping up and down at a padlocked door to some sort of… warehouse area?

"Right, fuck this noise, that's coming off. Gotta be some good loot… in… fuuuuck me."

Pete had taken the massive padlock in his hands and just pulled. The loop of the padlock had shorn right off. It clattered loudly to the floor as Brian finished saying, "click on one, bind on two…"

The doors swung open to reveal a mass of figures all shoved into a room far too small to be healthy. Brian and Pete both covered their noses with the backs of their hands.

"Fucking animals. Let's get 'em outta here," said Brian. "Come on, you lot, up you get, we're… we're here to help. That's right, yeah?"

He looked at the kobold, who nodded solemnly at him. The trio walked slowly into the room, being very careful to be as friendly as possible. Which was quite hard given that one of them was an eight foot tall green monstrosity with an artillery gun for a rifle.

Scar yip-yapped at a few of the figures, and they moved, standing up. Idly, Brian looked at them in the dim light. They almost looked like kobolds, but… weren't. They were much bigger, for starters, and almost entirely female. He bit his lip as he pondered where the males had gone. Same place as the rest, likely. All the people in here were female, or at least passingly… pretty.

"Come on," he said softly, then cleared his throat and spoke louder. "Come on! We're here to rescue you, so let's get to being rescued, alright? We fucking killed everyone we found on the way here, so the coast is clear. Up and at 'em!"

The humans responded to the language that apparently most of them knew. The rest responded to Scar and her yapping. They looked worriedly at Pete, but looked downright scared of Brian. Pete shrugged, maybe 'big green monster' was less scary than 'guy who looks more like their kidnappers'. Soon enough, hesitant standing turned to excited murmuring, turned to cries and exclamations of panic and joy in equal amounts as the three lead all the survivors out of their own personal hell, and into the arms of the waiting dragon.

Pete swore to make somebody pay for this, but the three of them had been doing that already. So he just resolved to do it harder.