A Bold Kobold
A kobold gets captured by orcish slavers, and must find her way to freedom.
A kobold gets captured by orcish slavers, and must find her way to freedom. But she isn't the only kobold lost in the orc city. Action, adventure, and heroism follow.
Be brave, be bold.
Fortune Favours the Kobold.
A kobold named Whitetail was tied up to a tree.
"Rikktor," spat the thin orc standing in front of her. He held a thick staff made from wood, with a large chunk of crystal entwined at the end. "Rikktor!" Jabbing the staff at Whitetail again, he prodded her chest and electric magic snapped from the crystal to her body, arcing through her in excruciating pulses. "Riktor!"
"Nggrrhh...!" With teeth tightly clenched, Whitetail groaned out in pain. She jerked against the rope which held her arms and chest, partially in a desperate attempt to pull herself free, and partially because her muscles were forced to contract from the electric surge.
"Riktor!" Her orc torturer was enthusiastic, but his pronunciation was awful. Like many orcs, he had long, intimidating lower canine teeth that jutted out even when his lips were closed--yet this wasn't why he was garbling up the kobold language, since he could speak the common language without any difficulty. "Riktor! You stupid kobold, riktor!" repeated the thin orc who was torturing her.
The word he was trying to say was "rrhekteer," which in the most common language of kobolds translated to tendering a resignation. A better word to yell would have been "wikstran," which more accurately translated to submit, because that was what this orc slaver was trying to get her to do.
And there wasn't even any point in it. Whitetail could speak the common tongue, so there was no reason for her torturer to put up this pathetic attempt to speak the kobold language. But he could shout as much as he wanted in whatever language he knew, for no matter what they did to her, Whitetail would never submit. Ever since she'd been kidnapped by these slavers, she'd resisted their torture and taken every opportunity to try and fight back, break free, and run, run away.
At first they'd tried beating her until her scales were left bloodied and bruised, then they'd tried depriving her of food and water for days, and now they were trying to torture her with magic, but Whitetail refused to surrender. No slaver would break her, even if they killed her for it. In the fortnight since she'd been captured, she hadn't spoken a single word to the slavers--not a single cry to her ancestors for help, no begging for mercy, never even giving up her name or the fact she could always understand what they were saying. For all these brutal slavers were aware, she was a mute but viciously defiant kobold.
Whitetail knew she wouldn't break. For all the variety of physical tortures they tried, none of them could have persuaded her to submit to servitude. If somehow these slavers had another kobold, especially someone from her scale family, then they could have instantly broken her will to resist, but torturing her body wouldn't do.
Now the slavers' caravan had nearly reached some miserable orc city, bringing her far from the neutral zone where she'd been first captured. Whitetail was no expert in slavery, but she understood what would happen soon. The slavers would try to sell her as property, but her continued refusal to submit to even the simplest order greatly reduced her value as a slave. Did kobolds even fetch much value as slaves in orcish cities?
Behind the orc slaver sat a small wooden crate filled with instruments of pain. Scissors and pliers to cut and rip at the flesh, all sorts of knives, needles to jab deep, vices to crush, and all other horrible sorts of torture tools. The thin orc had threatened to use every single one of them on her, but he'd mostly stuck with using his electric stick. Perhaps that was his favourite weapon, or perhaps he simply didn't want to risk leaving visible marks on her body, which might reduce her trading value as a slave.
"Riktor! Submit! Slaves shouldn't need to be taught this lesson so many times! Know your place, and you won't need to have this taught to you!" Again and again the thin orc tortured her, jabbing her with his electric stick. So much magic contained in that simple length of wood, so much accumulated suffering. It seemed to drag on for hours, leaving Whitetail too weak to stand even when they weren't actively electrocuting her. The tree bark felt rough against her scales, and she slumped loosely against the coils of rope that were holding her up.
Finally the slaver paused his torture. Whitetail dropped her head against her chest, but the thin orc roughly grabbed her by the snout and lifted up her chin to glare at her. She was barely half his size, as was expected for a kobold and an orc. "Have you learned your lesson, kobold? Will you be a good slave? Riktor, you understand? Riktor! Give in!"
Her mouth was so dry, but Whitetail did her best to spit in the slaver's face. He stumbled back, rubbing the back of his hand against his face and sputtering furiously. Between the two of them, Whitetail wondered who would break first. Sooner or later this orc would either give up, or he would torture her until her resistance finally broke.
Or maybe he would kill her.
The slaver did something with his staff, and then he jabbed her again. The electricity seemed stronger now, more powerful and more dominating. Whitetail jerked against the tree once more, and the pain was so intense she couldn't even scream. The slaver kept shocking her, holding the staff against her chest and shouting his mispronounced word. And yet his words were hard to hear at all, for the only sound Whitetail could hear was her heartbeat in her ears--each beat seemed tortured and irregular, taking longer and longer until finally the pause between beats stretched on too long. Her heart had been shocked into chaos, unable to beat properly. Immediately Whitetail's chest felt impossibly tight, and her vision began tunnelling and turning grey. Even when the slaver lifted away his electric staff, her chest still felt like it was being crushed and she couldn't breathe. Everything felt cold.
Then suddenly her heart spontaneously kicked itself back into action, restarting a rapid beat to send blood pulsing through her arteries again. Whitetail gasped for air, knowing that she'd come dangerously close to death. Kobolds were resilient little creatures, but certainly not invulnerable.
Torturer and tortured, orc and kobold--the two of them were in a grassy forest clearing, and just nearby was a cobblestone road where a long line of caravans, pulled by a mix of boars or horses, had been stopped for the night. It would have been a pleasant morning with lightly cloudy weather, if not for circumstances. There was activity all along the trading convoy as the traders packed up to start moving off, but none of the other orcs showed any concern for a single kobold being held captive and tortured. Not all of these orcs were slavers--some were mercenaries, bounty hunters, or adventurers, but most of them were simply merchant traders travelling together for safety. None of them helped her.
Another slaver came out of a caravan and walked over to where Whitetail was tied up against a tree and being tortured. He was a large, fat, hairy orc, in contrast to the skinny orc who'd been torturing her, and he looked over the scene with mild disgust. "Are you still zapping that poor kobold?" asked the other slaver. "Finish up already. The convoy will be leaving soon, and we'll be in the city before midday."
"He isn't broken yet! Look at his eyes. He glares and he spits at me!" argued the thin orc, but the hairy orc seemed unconcerned.
"It'll be hard enough to sell a kobold, and our price will go even lower if you damage the goods. Let this little guy's new owner break him. There are certain customers who'll find it fun."
Whitetail glared. These despicable slavers didn't even know she was female, not that orcs in general would be very observant about such things. They would obviously be able to tell the gender of another orc, but they so lacked experience with kobolds that they couldn't tell she was a female. They hadn't checked inside her genital slit, fortunately, otherwise Whitetail wondered how else they might try to torture her on discovering a lack of male genitalia.
"In fact," continued the hairy orc gruffly, "we might be better off skipping an auction in the slave market. I've heard a tip from another trader that the fighting arena is always willing to take slaves in almost any condition. Even a useless kobold."
"Why would the fighting arena want slaves?" replied the thin orc.
"Isn't it obvious? Proper gladiators aren't allowed to kill each other, but slaves provide that special thrill. The gladiators can cut them down, or slaves can be made to fight each other to the death." The hairy orc walked over and casually kicked at Whitetail with his boot, adding a fresh bruise to the kobold's scaly side and making her grunt in pain. "Not that this one would stand a fighting chance. I know orcs who could just step on a kobold and not even notice."
Whitetail said nothing. It had been two weeks since she'd said anything at all--two weeks since she'd lost her freedom. What a mistake it had been to leave her home territory and come to the neutral zone, but the mayor from a distant dwarf city had requested an ambassador and she'd been the only one brave (or foolish) enough to go. The dwarfs had said that they would assure her safety within their lands, but she'd neglected to get protection while passing through the neutral zone to get there. Naively, she had assumed that a lone kobold wouldn't attract any attention, but instead orcish slavers had stolen her away halfway through her journey, snatching her valuables and burning her papers. What a fool idea this had been from the start.
"Anyway, let's get him washed up and looking sharp for the price negotiations. I think we can squeeze in a quick scrub before the convoy gets moving," decided the hairy orc.
"He'll try to run! He always does! The moment I cut loose those ropes, away he goes, trying to run as if we won't catch him. This stupid kobold is the feistiest slave I've ever had. Worse even than a feral dog," grumbled the thin orc. Whitetail felt a faint bit of pride at that comment, thought outwardly she gave no indication that she understood what either slaver has been saying.
But the next comment chilled her. "Just do it the quick way, then," said the hairy orc, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. "I've had enough of hearing all his pounding and kicking against my caravan's walls. We don't need him conscious while we sell him off. Just drug him."
The thin orc untied the rope that bound Whitetail to the tree. With what little energy could be mustered she tried to resist, but he just grabbed her by the tail and dragged her back to the trading convoy, then over towards a small river that was flowing on the other side of the cobblestone road. With no care at all, he tossed her into the shallows of the river and started using a brush to scrub her whole body with soap. This rough treatment dislodged a few looser scales, and all the while Whitetail tried her best to use her claws on her kidnapper. She ended up scratching up his arms and getting water in his eyes, so in return he spent long moments intentionally holding her head underwater, making her sputter and choke as she nearly drowned several times.
It was over in a short few minutes, and then Whitetail was tied up again and carried back to the trading convoy, before being carelessly tossed into the back of the slavers' caravan like some piece of equipment. Her wrists were bound together tightly, as were her ankles so she couldn't escape. Kobolds weren't as concerned with nudity compared to how some of the other sapient species like humans or elves were, but of course she wasn't offered any clothing. Even orcs wore clothes for practicality against the weather and the environment, though their preferred method of showing status was by tattoos on bare skin instead of fancy clothing. Whitetail was left cold, shivering, and naked, water dripping off her scales and onto the wooden floor.
Whitetail had met orcs before in her home territories and in the lands of dwarfs, merfolk, and even the centaur jungle cities. Most orcs weren't like this. These two slavers were some of the worst that their species, and the whole world, had to offer.
True to his word, the hairy orc drugged her. He brought over his box of torture implements and placed it down beside Whitetail, before taking out a leather pouch filled with vials of clear liquid. "Just a small drop should be more than enough! A coma would make for a hard sale." Carefully he opened up one vial and poured a single drop into a special waterskin, before shaking the leather bag about to mix the liquid contained within.
The thin orc helped by grabbing Whitetail's snout, overpowering her best attempts to bite off his fingers. When she kept trying to shake her head and throw off his grip, he punched her hard in the gut, making her bowl over in pain before he grabbed her snout again and forced it open.
The hairy orc poured the contents of that waterskin down her throat, forcing her to swallow or be choked. Whitetail chose to choke, but the slavers held her immobile until they were sure she'd still swallowed enough of the tainted water. They'd done it to her before, so she knew what would come next. The drug was a sleeping draught or something similar. It muddled the mind and made it impossible to think or move properly. It usually wouldn't knock her fully unconscious, but for Whitetail it felt like she was surrounded by thick honey which bogged down all her muscles and her thoughts, making them infuriatingly sticky and slow.
In the few moments before the drug started to take effect, Whitetail continued her act of rebellion. While the slavers were distracted by forcing her to drink, she slid her tail towards the box of torture instruments and used the tip of her tail to grab a small knife without the slavers noticing. Curling her tail upwards, she transferred the knife into her hand and carefully concealed it against her wrist, hidden between her tied-up arms. Even as it grew hard to think, she repeated a mantra in her head. Fight, fight, fight.
Whitetail's thoughts were frustratingly limited and her mind kept spinning in circles. The world moved around her as the kobold was bumped about in the caravan, feeling the slow passage of time as the trading convoy made its way across the countryside. The cobblestone seemed to grow more even as they approached their destination city, but Whitetail felt like a ghost just observing it all but unable to act. Full consciousness faded in and out, with awareness and thought constantly being disrupted by dreamy stupor.
For hours and hours the trading convoy rolled on, until finally there came the noise of a bustling orc city. The caravan doors were opened and the slavers dragged her out, but her thoughts were too incoherent for her to clearly remember what the outside looked like. There was the clank of equipment being made, then the tempting odours of roasted meat wafting from somewhere. Vaguely she her the impression of lively bustle and cheerful chatter, with the tall, proud, muscular forms of orcs looking down at her with amusement or curiosity, like she was some rare beast that had been captured.
Indoors, outdoors, indoors again. The slavers had stuffed her into a rectangular cage on wheels as if she were some mere animal. Her head rattled painfully against the cage floor as she was taken down a long flight of stairs, going deep underground. Vaguely she saw a large circular arena, then a small quiet room filled with comfortable furniture.
The two slavers sat down at a table, before speaking with two more orcs, male and female, who came into the room. Whitetail didn't get a chair. Someone dragged her out of that metal cage and left her lying on the floor like discarded trash, still tied up tight. At least the floor was carpeted, and it was the softest thing she'd touched in a long while. Her right arm quickly grew numb from being laid on, but shifting her position was impossible--it took all her effort just to draw breath, and to make sure that she didn't lose her trembling grip on that small knife she'd stolen, with her arms bound behind her back and the knife concealed behind her wrist. The drug's effects were slowly wearing off, but not fast enough for her to move anytime soon.
Whitetail had always found it hard to distinguish one orc from another. They all seemed to look the same, towering over her and covered in skin and hair instead of a kobold's smooth scales. Orc faces had broad noses and heavy brows, and of all the sapient races, they were the most well-known as being strong warriors and capable labourers. Their society was about discipline and strength, though intelligence and craftsmanship were also valued.
The orcs smiled and chatted, then they frowned and argued with each other. Finally it ended with smiles again and all the four orcs taking turns to exchange clasps of the forearms--a deal had been struck.
As far as Whitetail could hear, she didn't fetch a very good price. Apparently her new orcish owner had tried to use a kobold slave before, but with not much effect. Orcs understood hierarchy, and for them it was natural that weak orcs should serve as a slave to stronger orcs--where strength could mean physical strength, or mental cunning, or simply power and influence.
Kobolds were different. They worked best in their communal groups, so a lone kobold wasn't too useful as a slave--the slavers apparently didn't know this, otherwise they wouldn't have tried to kidnap an innocuous kobold traveller making her way across the neutral zone. But perhaps she might be useful as a target, or even a prize.
Once the deal was done, a pouch of gold coins changed hands. Then the slavers stood up and made their way out of the room, taking their cage with them but leaving her behind on the floor. As they walked past her, Whitetail tried to move her tail and spitefully trip them up, but her appendage barely twitched. The scales right at the tip of her tail were white coloured, a sharp contrast to the drab brown covering the rest of her scaly body--it had been that way ever since she was a small child, hence her simple name.
Idly Whitetail reflected that her nest family had been right after all. "You're too curious for her own good, and one day you're going to get yourself into big trouble," was what they'd said to her when she was young, and they'd been right. If she ever managed to get out of this mess and find her way back home, Whitetail silently promised to herself that she would hug every member of her nest family and tell them that she'd never appreciated them enough. That would come after killing the slavers, burning down this miserable orc city, and getting her revenge, of course.
The other orcs in the carpeted room stood up and walked off. They didn't bother talking to Whitetail or even looking at her. Why would they bother? No threats, no monologues, not even a glance, because she was just a slave. Her new owner wouldn't waste time talking with her any more than he would waste time talking with his table. A slave was property.
The passing of time was hard to register with the sleeping drug still messing up her consciousness, but sometime later another pair of orcs came for her. Whitetail's guess was that they were workers or employees of some sort. They clothing was simple and their tattoos were less elaborate, though they didn't look to be slaves.
"Ah, there he is. One kobold--drugged out his mind and trussed up like a chicken," muttered one of the orcs. "Let's get him over to the waiting room."
The other orc was the most perceptive person Whitetail had met so far in her tragic misadventure. "Him? That's not a him. That's a her."
"What?"
"That's a female kobold, not a male. Didn't the boss say he bought a new male kobold slave for cheap?"
One of the orcs used his boot to roll Whitetail over onto her back. Small glowing crystals charged with magic were embedded in the roof, and she squinted at the sudden light.
"Hm? Maybe you're right. Nothing dangling between this kobold's legs."
"Male kobolds have genital slits too, so that isn't evidence. But you see how her snout is rounded? And you see the shape of her ears? That's a female kobold for sure."
"How do you even know that?"
"Reading books."
"You can read?"
"Damn right. I was supposed to get a clerical job here at the fighting arena, but now they just have me running errands and cleaning the place. It's a disgrace, that's what it is. One day I'll quit."
One of the orcs picked Whitetail up and unceremoniously threw her over his shoulder. The kobold was carried out of the room and brought through corridors and tunnels. Whitetail was vaguely aware of her surroundings, just enough to notice that the walls were windowless and appeared to be made from stone instead of wood--this fighting arena was an underground location. The two orcs took turns carrying Whitetail over their shoulder, grumbling about her weight.
Finally she was dumped at the side of a small-sized room, and the orcs turned to go. "Wait. Don't forget to put on the slave collar," one of them said just as they were leaving.
"Hm." The other orc grunted in agreement, and he unclipped a rigid ring of metal that had been attached to his belt. Whitetail tried to struggle as the orcs crouched down around her. She was slowly getting back some autonomy to move her muscles, but with her arms and legs still tied up, she had no hope of resisting. Without any ceremony the orcs clipped the metal ring around her neck, doing something with the slave collar that made it click into place. Unlike the ropes binding her limbs, this collar was very loose and it dangled against her chest.
This fact didn't go unnoticed by the orcs either. "That collar doesn't look tight," observed one of them.
"This was the smallest adult size collar," replied the other. "Maybe I should have taken one of the child slave collars? Or maybe one of the dog collars instead."
"Whatever. This should be good enough." And then the orcs turned to go once more.
After hearing the room door swing shut, Whitetail twisted her body and rolled herself onto her back to look around. Her first impression had been incorrect--this wasn't a room, but just an enclosed booth inside a large underground basement area. Wooden walls came up in three directions of the booth, with the fourth wall coming up to just above Whitetail's head height before becoming a large glass window. Kicking her legs, Whitetail channelled every bit of willpower she could muster to get her muscles to respond so she could assume a sitting position.
The room was well furnished, with an assorted of cushioned chairs arranged to face one direction. Right up at one side there was also a table or desk that was covered with all sorts of knobs, buttons, and levers for some technological artifice, though Whitetail had no clue what these were meant to control. On the other side of the booth, closer to her, there was a pile of small wooden crates, envelopes that appeared to be stuffed with paper currency, and even a bowl filled with gold coins. Colourful ribbons and bright decorations adorned all these objects, and Whitetail guessed that they were prizes. Was that what was what she was supposed to be--nothing more than slave property, a prize to be given away just like this collection of rewards? Or was she going to be thrown into the fighting arena to battle against well-equipped orc gladiators who would slaughter her?
Struggling to her feet, the kobold managed to push herself to a standing position. It wasn't easy with her ankles still bound together, but she managed to hop onto one of the cushioned chairs that was placed all across the room. From this elevated position, she had enough height to see out of the booth and get a better look of the surroundings.
So this was the orcs' fighting arena. Outside the booth she was in, the vast underground room was roughly circular with a smaller area right in the middle that was caged up by a short metal fence. All around there were circular rows of seats that rose higher up from the ground with each outer ring, so that every seat would still have a view of that cage area where fights would take place. This booth directly overlooked the arena's fighting area, and presumably it was reserved for more important observers. The whole underground fighting arena was well lit by bright lights shining down from somewhere in the ceiling, and orc workers (presumably slaves, for they also had metal collars arounds their necks) were cleaning the area and making preparations, but there were others who were leisurely strolling into the place and taking seats.
Whitetail swallowed nervously. It seemed like such a strange idea to have a fighting arena where orcs would just brawl and wrestle with each other for entertainment, but then again she wasn't going to look down on orc culture just because they liked beating each other up. Except for the part where she'd been kidnapped by slavers and then sold to be given away as some sort of prize--that part was exceptionally uncivilized. But worrying could wait till later. This was the first time in many days when she'd been left truly alone, and by the spirits of her ancestors, one way or another, she was getting out of this place.
As was her habit, Whitetail started to struggle as hard as she could, pulling her arms and legs against the tight rope bindings. For several long minutes she kept yanking at the ropes until her scales had begun to chafe painfully, but the ropes failed to loosen. Whitetail still had the small knife she'd stolen from those slavers, but it was difficult to get an angle to cut through the thick rope binding her. The blade was not sharp. Even as the drug's effects wore off so her full strength and mental faculties returned, she had no greater success in freeing herself. The booth area had cushioned chairs and other sorts of furniture, but there was nothing she could find that seemed sharp. She couldn't get the leverage to cut herself free with either her claws or her stolen knife.
Whitetail clenched her fist, and she switched the knife from one hand to the other behind her back. That weapon was hardly any better than her natural claws, yet it was proof that despite all the misery she'd endured so far, there were still chances for her to resist and fight back. She kept sawing away with that tiny blade, trying to make a mark on the ropes.
All around she could hear the sounds of an orc crowd slowly assembling into the fighting arena and taking seats in the area outside the booth. A loud rhythmic booming became audible, coming in through the walls of this enclosed booth--after some initial confusion, Whitetail realized that this was music. There was a deep pulsing of drums, and it sounded like someone was knocking heavy metal objects together and pretending that was a musical instrument. Whitetail had no idea when the fights would begin, but she had no wish to stay any longer than necessary.
After a few more minutes the kobold still hadn't made much progress with cutting herself free when she heard footsteps directly approaching the booth. There was the clomp of heavy orc boots, but also a faint clicking sound--could that be the sound of _claws_against the stone floor? Whitetail quickly rolled off the chair and slumped against the booth's wall, adjusting her position so that she was still facing the doorway. She closed her eyes, leaving her eyelids open just a small crack to see who was coming. With her ankles tied together and arms still tied behind her back it wouldn't be easy to escape, and she wanted to conceal her efforts to break free.
The booth door opened, and there was one of the orc workers who had carried Whitetail here earlier. But to her shock, another kobold followed after the orc. He wasn't being carried as she'd been, or even dragged. No, this new kobold walked. He was carrying a broom which was almost as tall as him, along with a dustpan. A slave collar dangled around his neck, identical to the one that Whitetail was wearing.
"Here. Get this whole booth cleaned up. The boss and his priority guests will be coming here soon," said the orc. "Make sure you clean that other kobold up too. I don't know if boss will be giving away that kobold as a grand prize or just throwing him right into the ring, but make him look impressive, or you'll get thrown into the fighting ring too. Groom his scales or... whatever it is that you kobolds do. Get him cleaned up!" he added, pointing at Whitetail.
The new kobold nodded his head meekly. "Yes, sir. But that's not a him--?" Whatever he had been about to say, the orc didn't stay to listen. The booth door slammed shut again, and the footsteps got quieter as the orc walked across the arena, then (presumably) disappeared down one of the tunnels leading elsewhere.
With the orc gone, Whitetail was left alone with this other kobold. She snapped her eyes open, making the other kobold jump. The two of them stared at each other, neither moving nor speaking. Whitetail let her gaze sweep over this other kobold. He was a male, rather young, and dressed only with a pouch bag made from canvas that was slung diagonally between his shoulder and waist--presumably this was the other slave kobold she had heard about earlier.
As Whitetail glared at him, the slave kobold awkwardly stared back at her, clearly unsure about what to do. After a long moment, the other kobold blinked and snapped out of his trance. He began to use his broom to sweep the carpeted floor, clearing up lint and dirt into his dustpan. Everything about his behaviour stank of submissiveness. He looked down at the ground and deliberately avoided eye-contact, and his sweeping pattern first focused on every part of the room that was furthest away from Whitetail.
But finally the other kobold had to come closer to her, and Whitetail impulsively made the decision to break her self-imposed muteness. "Whitetail," she murmured. After two weeks of not being used properly, her voice came out in a croak.
The other kobold stopped sweeping and stared up at her again. "What?" he asked, in a voice that was somehow even quieter than hers.
"Ahrm!" Whitetail cleared her throat and spoke louder. "My name is Whitetail, of scale family Falarcin, of the Southern Forested Reach. Identify yourself," she demanded.
The kobold glanced at the door, checking that it was shut. "I... I'm Helix."
Whitetail kept glaring. Helix seemed like he very much wanted to look away from her, but he didn't quite dare. "And your family?"
"I don't have... My scale family was Windjumper. Of the... the Northhall Reach. But they aren't really my family anymore because I haven't seen them in so long. Months... maybe years...?" Helix's voice trailed off, but Whitetail could guess the rest. Helix hadn't seen his scale family for a long time because he was a slave, stolen or sold away into orc subjugation. "We shouldn't be talking. The quartermaster doesn't like it when slaves talk with each other. Especially when we're outside the slave quarters."
"Don't call me a slave. These orcs have done nothing to earn my loyalty or my servitude, and I will not serve! They ambushed me in the neutral zone, robbed me of my belongings and then decided to kidnap me when my valuables proved not valuable enough," Whitetail hissed. "Why do you serve them? What gives them the right to command you?"
Helix swallowed nervously. "They beat me if I don't do as they say." Breaking out from his paralysis, he used his broom to keep sweeping the room, clearing away dust from the ground around Whitetail and pushing it into his dustpan.
Pushing back against the walls of the booth, Whitetail struggled to her feet. "Then fight back. If they strike you, strike them back."
Helix laughed softly at her suggestion. "Hah. Strike back? How could I ever fight back? In case you haven't noticed, we're half the size of these orcs. And if you'd ever seen the gladiators fight, you would fear their strength, and even those fights are just for show. The real guards are far more brutal and merciless."
"If you can't fight, then run. Escape this miserable place and flee the city," Whitetail tried.
Helix leaned against his broomstick, looking weary. "Not possible. The entrances and exits are always locked or watched."
"Not possible with your defeatist, miserable, subservient attitude, perhaps! Now you listen here, Helix." Her voice got lower, no longer requesting information or offering it, but now with the authoritative tones of command. "Cut me free, now," she ordered.
Much to her surprise, Helix did as she asked. He walked behind her and started fiddling with the knots of the ropes binding her hands together. After a moment, he suddenly stopped and moved away from her. "Why did I do that? I can't... I can't cut you free. You're a slave too."
But the damage had been done. Helix had used his claws to undo part of the knot, and that loosened the rope bindings enough for Whitetail to jerk her wrists and work them the rest of the way free. "Thank you very much. Let's get out of here."
Helix was clutching onto his broomstick like it was the only thing keeping him upright, and his tail swished from side to side. "No, I shouldn't have done that. The masters will know that I freed you. They will whip me bloody as punishment, then they'll do the same to you once they catch you."
"They won't catch me. They won't catch us," Whitetail replied. Now that her hands were free, she used the small knife she'd stolen to slice away the ropes binding her feet. With better leverage, she made much faster progress.
"Oh. Oh! You have a knife. You are not allowed to have a knife. Slaves can't use weapons," Helix mumbled, though he did nothing to stop her.
With a sharp motion Whitetail slashed with her stolen dagger, and then her legs were as free as her arms. Helix jerked back as if expecting that she would attack him, and Whitetail almost laughed. Reaching up to her neck, she pulled on the metal slave collar. The collar was well made and it didn't break or come open, but it was just so oversized that Whitetail managed to slip it up over her head. Flicking her ears, she tossed the collar aside.
"You're not allowed to do that either. It's a class one offence for a slave to remove their collar. That means whipping and getting locked in solitary confinement for a day or more," Helix told her.
This time Whitetail did laugh, though there was no joy in her chuckle. "Hah! I don't understand you, Helix no-family. How can you stand it? How do you tolerate living without a scale family, living all alone as a slave in this orc city? Aren't you miserable?"
A shudder ran down Helix's back--it was a subtle gesture, but Whitetail spotted it. "There is no alternative," he said in a quiet voice which was almost a whisper. "There is no escaping this life. We are both slaves now. You'd best get used to serving."
"No. I'd rather die than be a slave." Whitetail kicked the ropes aside and took a few steps around to stretch her limbs. She reached out her hand towards Helix--at first he flinched away as if he expected her to strike him, but he didn't recoil further when she gently touched his shoulder. For a moment Whitetail was satisfied with just that contact, but then she moved forward and pulled Helix into a hug. With both arms around him, she squeezed him tightly and let her chin rest against his shoulder. They were almost exactly the same height.
Helix went stiff, but he didn't push her away. Then after a few seconds Whitetail felt him shiver. "What are you...? If they catch us--"
"Shut up," Whitetail ordered, and Helix complied. As she embraced him, the sound of the orc crowd in the fighting arena seemed to fade away.
The basic social unit for kobold society was the scale family, comprised of a close group of anywhere from four to fifty kobolds. The original scale family that raised a young kobold through childhood was their _nest family--_but then from adulthood onwards, switching families was a major but not uncommon event. Yet the most fundamental thing was that kobolds were never alone. Kobolds always had a scale family. They worked together, played together, lived and ate together, and even slept together in a pile. It was how their society operated.
Isolation hurt. Without the comforting warmth of another kobold's scales against theirs, many kobolds wouldn't even be able to relax and sleep properly. Whitetail had a streak of aggressive independence so she'd opted to make her journey alone, but it wasn't supposed to have lasted more than a week. When she had departed from her old scale family to go live as an emissary in dwarf territory, there was already an established scale family of kobold traders living in that dwarf city, and she was supposed to have joined them as their diplomatic representative.
Instead she'd gotten kidnapped, tortured, and dragged to a nearby orc city, and now she'd found this poor, poor, lonely slave kobold who was all alone in the midst of uncaring orcs. How had he gone so long without a scale family? Was he truly so lonely that he had forgotten how much it hurt to be isolated?
Apparently he had. It began as a mild twitching, then Helix started to tremble uncontrollably as Whitetail hugged him. He shivered and melted into her embrace, hugging her back and pulling her tight against him. His head slumped against her shoulder, and his eyes slowly slid shut.
Whitetail knew exactly what he was feeling. It felt good to have Helix's scales pressed up against hers, to feel his warmth, and to take in his smell. There was nothing sexual about their contact--although members of a scale family could pair up--but rather it was just the reassuring physical intimacy which comforted them both. Kobold were more social creatures than orcs, dwarfs, and many of the other sapient species. They needed their social bonds. They needed_to touch, talk, and share their lives with each other, and that was why they formed scale families. To be isolated for a few weeks was already painful, but to be alone for months or a _year was unthinkable.
The two kobolds kept hugging each other for a long while. Whitetail almost started grooming Helix's scales out of instinct, but that might perhaps be taking it too far. Even as good as it felt to finally be with another kobold again, they were still trapped deep underground in an orc fighting arena. When Whitetail finally let go of Helix, the male kobold was so limp that he fell, as if he'd forgotten to even stand.
Helix stumbled to one knee, though he quickly recovered and stood up again. "Mmrrrgnnn... mrmas... what...?" he muttered incoherently, his gaze all distant and unfocused.
"It's clearly been a while since someone gave you a good hug," Whitetail replied. Approaching Helix again, she carefully lifted the collar from his neck too. His collar was more well-worn than hers, but it was nothing more than a metal band with the word "slave" inscribed into the metal, repeated all across its surface. Perhaps for an orc it would have been too tight to lift over their head, but for a kobold it was easy. There was no magic or technology in that collar to resist her removing it. It was a symbol of servitude that she took great pleasure in discarding.
Whitetail dropped Helix's slave collar to the ground, where that metal ring rolled until it hit the wall and fell over. "You asked earlier about why you instinctively obeyed me and cut me free? Maybe it's because you've been a slave so long that you follow orders immediately without thinking about them. Or maybe it's because deep down, you still remember that you're a kobold and that we look out for each other. Whichever is the case, we're getting out of here."
Helix's arms twitched, like he wanted to hug her again, but he shook his head. He stared at his collar that Whitetail had tossed it aside. "We're both going to die, you know that?"
"Everyone dies sooner or later," Whitetail retorted.
"No. I mean, genuinely escaping requires more than just a wish to escape. I've been a slave here for more than a year, and I've seen other slaves try and escape. Even if they somehow make it out of the city, there's nowhere for them to go. Word spreads to other orc villages and cities about what an escaped slave looks like, and they are recaptured and sent back here. Then they get thrown into the fighting ring to be brutalized by the gladiators, or sometimes they just let the dogs tear them apart. Slaves can't escape," Helix said.
"Orc slaves perhaps, but we can. Orcs have no reach into our homeland or the dwarf territories. If we can make it out of the city and across the border, we're home free. I have contacts in the nearest dwarven city who are expecting me," Whitetail said.
"Even still, how? How do we escape the fighting arena?" Helix shifted nervously.
Whitetail frowned. "This arena... explain to me how this works. The orcs fight each other? For sport?"
Helix walked over to the front of the booth and tiptoed to peek out through the glass windows. "Yes. Look, they're going to start any moment now."
Whitetail followed him and looked out from the booth. The fighting arena was now filled with many orcs, taking up all the seats. The crowd was cheering loudly and occasionally breaking into chants, though Whitetail couldn't understand the words being said. Many of the orcs were also waving cloth banners or small flags on wooden sticks, stomping their feet or punching their fists into the air. There was so much noise and energy, and yet nothing seemed to have started yet.
"What's going on?" Whitetail also looked at the large console covered in knobs, levers, and buttons. Small lights were flashing all over, in odd patterns. She experimentally twisted a few knobs, to now apparent effect. "What does this artifice do?"
Helix was still looking out the window, suddenly his ears flattened against his head as he saw a group of people moving through the crowded arena, approaching the booth here. "Kran," he hissed under his breath, which was a swear word in an old kobold dialect. Whitetail grinned, amused by the fact that Helix perhaps did have some kobold culture left in him, even if he otherwise seemed so resigned to being a slave of the orcs.
On the other hand, Helix didn't seem amused at all. Ducking down from the window, he hurriedly took Whitetail's hand and pulled her down too. "Get down! Don't let them see you!" Scrambling to the side of the room where there was that pile of money and other prizes, Helix searched around for his slave collar and pulled it back over his head, then he snatched up Whitetail's collar and pushed it at her. "Put this back on. Now!"
Whitetail shook her head. "Oh, I don't think so!" she started to say, but Helix wasn't dissuaded.
"The slavemaster, his priority guests, his bodyguards, and all the other orcs are right out there! In a few seconds they'll be entering this booth, so put your collar back on unless you want to fight them all right now!" he insisted. For the first time, Helix actually appeared determined and active, which made Whitetail listen. She reluctantly let him put the slave collar back over her head.
Whitetail gripped that metal ring as it sat loosely against her neck. The slave collar was made of tough metal that was impossible for her to even bend, let alone break. "Fine, but the first chance I see for us to escape, we're getting out of here."
"Quiet!" Helix carefully put his broom and dustpan against the wall, and he bundled up the loose ropes around Whitetail's feet so that it looked like she was still tied up. He repositioned the female kobold so that she was once again standing next to that pile of prizes, with her hands behind her back as if they were bound. "Just... just pretend you're still tied up. Don't do anything stupid! Let's hope no one notices anything unusual or we'll be in serious trouble."
And then the booth door swung open, and a group of orcs strolled into the booth.
Helix ducked his head and tried to look small, but Whitetail stood tall (for a kobold, at least) and glared at the various orcs as they strolled into the booth. There were eight orcs coming in, half of whom were dressed in elaborate spiky clothing and had numerous complex, colourful tattoos covering their exposed limbs and their faces. Even of the four orc who were not of such high status, still none of them were wearing slave collars. The two most important looking orcs were conversing with each other, and they sat themselves down on the chairs without even sparing a glance at the pair of kobolds.
"Just in time for the show to start," said one of them.
"But of course! This is _my_arena. The show doesn't start until I say so," replied a thin, older orc who had a tousled mane of grey hair. One of his canine teeth was shiny with metal, as it poked out from his mouth. He had a smug, oily smooth voice. "Everything is controlled from here. The host is down in the ring, but the whole arena is controlled from right here in the booth," explained the orc, who must have been the slavemaster who owned this whole fighting ring. At his order, a few of his underlings sat down at the desk by the side of the room and started fiddling with the knobs and levers there. Outside the booth, the lights flickered and the music changed pitch.
However, some of the remaining few orcs did notice Whitetail and Helix. "Boss, you got a pair of kobolds in here?" asked a bulky, younger looking orc whom Whitetail presumed was a bodyguard.
The older orc spared a single dismissive glance at the two kobolds. "Oh, yes. I wanted to do a slave giveaway as one of the prize options for today's show, and giving away these two little lizards ought to make for a more exotic choice. I'm hoping some of the prize-winners want to claim them, though if I am being honest, kobolds aren't very useful at all."
Whitetail kept her breathing calm, but she didn't stop glaring at the orcs. So she wasn't to be killed in the gladiator arena? But to be traded away again as a slave was hardly any better. The orcs kept conversing, hardly even paying attention to her at all.
Her arms were behind her back as she pretended to still be tied up, but her grip tightened on her knife. There were eight orcs here, versus just two kobolds--that wasn't good odds for a fight, even if some of the orcs seemed old and about half were wearing elaborate clothing that looked fancy but would surely be a hindrance in a fight. The real problem was the two orcs who appeared to be bodyguards--they were well muscled and had swords strapped to their belts, and instead of neat clothing they wore tough looking leather body armour.
"Wherever did you manage to find a pair of kobold slaves?" continued one of the well-dressed orcs.
"Bought them, obviously," replied the slavemaster. "Just this morning there was a big trading convoy which rolled in from the... ah... Dronos. The dwarf city to the northeast, you know? Yes, and there just so happened to be a group of bounty hunters who had this one kobold for sale. It was picked up for trespassing or thievery or some other crime in the neutral zone."
"I see, I see. I have a shipment of pottery scheduled to come in on that convoy myself." The orc gestured lazily towards Helix. "And the other kobold?"
"Mm. As for the other one, I bought it around a year ago, also from some bounty hunters. At the time I thought it might be a prudent purchase just in case our operations team ever needed a... small slave who could fit into some of the narrow ventilation tunnels for maintenance."
"Since there were some rumours about the Grand Council of Chieftains wanting a ban on child slaves at that time, I suppose?"
"Exactly. Unfortunately, kobolds just aren't very capable. My quartermaster tells me that the creature is... unmotivated and simply unintelligent," continued the orc slavemaster. "Kobolds are weak and far less capable than either orc slaves or free workers. I'd value them as... no more useful than one of my dogs, though at least they eat less and take up less space. We'll see if any prize-winners want to bid for these two slaves."
Glancing to her side, Whitetail tried to see Helix's reaction, but he was silent and still staring at the ground. As the orcs all turned their attention away from the kobolds and onto the fighting arena, Whitetail nudged Helix with her elbow. "How do we escape?" she whispered. The music was playing louder now, and coupled with the cheer of the crowd there was sufficient noise that the orcs wouldn't hear her.
Helix refused to react at first, but after some repeated prodding he hissed at her. "Stop it! We can't escape. We're slaves."
Whitetail grit her teeth. "That orc called you unmotivated--stop proving him right. Don't you feel angry? Upset? He insults you. Doesn't that make you want to use your claws and gouge his eyes out?"
Helix said nothing in response, which irritated Whitetail. "Fine," she growled, "you can stay here and keep being a slave if you want, but I will not. I've suffered too much to let myself be sold away--"
Before Whitetail could even finish her sentence, a deafening voice boomed out from the front of the booth. "GOOD EVENING TO ALL! WELCOME TO THE--"
Whitetail jumped and her ears flattened against her head, but the orcs seemed amused. "Ho! Too loud! Turn the internal speakers down!" chuckled the slavemaster.
"Sorry about that, boss!" said one of the other orcs who was sitting down at the desk. "Someone messed with the controls..." Adjusting one of the knobs made the deafening voice quieten down. The voice had become coming from a box placed near the front of the booth, and Whitetail squinted at the device suspiciously--it was clearly some sort of magic or technology that could relay and amplify a person's voice. As the box quieted down a more normal level, Whitetail could also hear the voice coming from outside the booth, echoing all around the underground space of the fighting arena.
For the first time, Whitetail saw Helix show a faint grin across his snout. "Relax, it's just a sound system," he said quietly to her. "The orcs really know how to put on a show--this arena has enchanted echo boxes placed all around to make sure that every single person in the arena can hear the host giving the play-by-play of each fight. They even can play pre-recorded music instead of hiring musicians for every night's show."
Whitetail slowly raised her ears again. "Why can't orcs use all their advanced magic and technology in a manner that isn't barbaric?" she muttered.
Down in the fighting arena, an orc wearing bright coloured clothes had entered the fenced off area in the middle of the large underground space, and the crowd cheered as that orc made dramatic gestures as he spoke. "--your host for tonight, and we've got some great fights coming up! Let me tell you, just some great matchups tonight! First up comes a classic rivalry. An old favourite, the one and only Stonefist the Destroyer, faces off against a new challenger who will test his mettle..."
"Ancestors take me. This is idiotic," Whitetail murmured. From outside the booth, she could hear the crowd cheering as the arena's host got them worked up. "What are they all screaming at?"
"They scream for fun. And to support the gladiator they like the most. Most the audience also will have bet money on who's going to win each fight," Helix replied. "That's how the prizes are given out--every audience member gets to make a bet on all the fights that will take place, deciding who will win each fight. The more correct guesses one person makes, the better the prize they win. If they make a small bet, they can win the money back with a multiplier. But the biggest correct bets for each show also let the winner choose special prizes. I believe that for today the grand prize for managing to make the most correct guesses is... uh... slave mastery of you and me."
Whitetail bared her teeth. "I think not." Looking around the booth, she tried to come up some sort of escape plan, but there were just so many orcs seated all around--hundreds of them! First she would need to get out of the booth, then she needed to get out of the arena, and both these tasks didn't have obvious solutions. She could see several tunnels leading out of the arena but she had no idea which led back to the surface, or to some other way out of the city.
Whitetail adjusted her grip on her dagger. The orcs in the booth weren't paying attention to her now, as they looked out the window to watch the arena. Standing by the side of the booth, Whitetail could only get faint glances of what was going on outside. Down in the dirt floor of the arena, a pair of orcs circled each other, each carrying a sword and an oversized shield. "This is uncivilized. They hurt each other for fun?" she murmured.
Helix made a tiny, barely noticeable shrug of his shoulders. He replied in a quiet voice that was hard to hear over the noise of the crowd, the music, and the announcer. "They usually don't hurt each other. The gladiator arena is mostly fake. Their weapons have blunted blades and lightweight materials which break easily and look impressive doing so, and usually the gladiators will already agree beforehand who is going to win each fight. It's a performance for the audience."
"That's even more uncivilized. I was tortured and almost killed, but here they play fight like children. We need to make an escape." Whitetail was quiet for a moment as she thought about how to motivate Helix. "Think of it like a challenge. You must have thought about it before--how would you possibly escape from being a slave? You must have imagined it?"
Helix's shivered, and his tail swished from left to right and back again. He glanced at the various orcs inside the booth to make sure that none of them had noticed that the two kobolds were talking quietly with each other. "Of course I've thought about it! But escape is... not possible. As slaves we stay alive and get food and shelter. Why risk escape and death?"
"Freedom or death? Sounds good to me. What's your idea?" Whitetail insisted.
Helix took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. "I... Well... All the exits for this whole underground complex are guarded or locked. A slave wearing a slave collar could never get out."
Whitetail snorted. "But the collars are meant for orcs. When we wear them, they are loose enough that they slip off easily."
"But the guards would still recognize kobolds and know that we are not supposed to be escaping." Helix shrugged. "The only way would be to... create mass chaos somehow." He nodded in the direction of the desk at the side of the booth with all its levers and knobs that was being operated by an orc. "You see that artifice console? I was here when they were renovating the fighting arena and they installed that system. That console controls the lights, the sound system, and even the smoke machines and the pyrotechnics for the fighting arena."
"So we destroy it?" Whitetail asked.
"No. You wouldn't want to destroy it, but to use it to create enough chaos to panic the crowd, thus creating an opportunity to escape..." Helix said, though from his tone of voice it was clear he was trying to get Whitetail to understand that this was uncertain and risky.
"I'll take those odds!" Whitetail decided.
Unfortunately, all their conversing had finally drawn some attention. One of the orc bodyguards rapped his knuckles against the hilt of the sword at his belt. "Hey! You two lizards, shut up! Slaves aren't supposed to talk outside the slave quarters!"
From his cushioned chair, the slavemaster made a casual gesture towards them. "Go get a dog cage and stuff them both in. That'll quiet them up."
The two bodyguards advanced forward, and Whitetail felt her heartrate pick up. "It's now or never, Helix."
Helix shook his head, and he pressed back against the wall. His tail coiled tightly around one of his ankles. "We're going to die..."
"I'll create a distraction, and you use that machine thing to make the crowd panic," Whitetail decided. "Time for some heroism, kobold-style." Without waiting for Helix to even agree, she sprang into action.
The average kobold was only half the size of an average orc, and that made a fair fight completely unwinnable. However, Whitetail had no intention of fighting fairly. The orcs had been expecting that she was tied up, so they were slow to react when she attacked. Even as the two bodyguards approached her, she leapt forward and threw her dagger at one of them.
The orc flinched yet wasn't fast enough to dodge. Whitetail was still in motion--grabbing the loose, untied rope from around her legs, she tossed it at the other bodyguard's ankles to try and trip him up.
"You little rascal!"
"That kobold's gone mad!"
Whitetail's efforts turned out to be far less effective than hoped. Her dagger was small and its blade was dull, so the weapon bounced off the leather armour that first bodyguard was wearing. Meanwhile, the other guard hadn't been much hindered by the rope, and he kicked it aside. Both guards drew their swords and approached. "That lizard slave's trying to escape!"
"Relax! Kobolds are useless anyway." The slavemaster didn't look upset, or even surprised. While the other guests looked alarmed and concerned, the slavemaster lazily waved his hand at Whitetail. "A little close-up action, right here in the booth? Tie that kobold up again and make sure you do it properly this time! I'll deal with whoever let it escape after the show."
Whitetail felt anger burn through her veins. This smug, elite orc truly treated her like _property_as if she were no threat and not even worth looking at. She wouldn't be ignored. Even as the guards advanced on her, Whitetail lunged to the side of the room and snatched up Helix's broom and dustpan.
"Come quietly and maybe--" said one of the bodyguards, which was all he managed to say before Whitetail lunged and used the broomstick to smash him in the crotch. Before anyone else could react, she flicked the dustpan and threw all the dust right into the face of the slavemaster, and the whole booth exploded into chaos and yelling. The other guests all panicked and tried to run for the door, while the slavemaster sputtered and wiped his face with his hands.
Whitetail dodged as the other bodyguard swung his sword at her, and she snatched up her dagger from the floor where it had been lying. Fighting wasn't really a good option, but all she needed to do was create a distraction for Helix, who was nervously standing by the side of the room, ignored by everyone except her. The orcs were standing between her and the door, but Whitetail didn't let that limit her.
She hopped up onto one of the empty cushioned chairs, then jumped at the large glass window and crashed straight through it. Shards of glass rained down on the crowd outside and the kobold bounded from one orc shoulder then another, jumping on top of heads under she rolled right into the centre of the fighting arena, right between the orc gladiators.
Raising her dagger, Whitetail took up a combat stance--arms raised, half crouching, tail twitching from side to side. "Now this is a distraction," she muttered, hoping that back up in the booth, Helix was going to save her.
The crowd was going wild, and the two gladiators looked confused.
"By the sun and the soil, there's been some sort of disturbance in the ring!" boomed out the host, who was standing just aside the ring and holding some sort of device that amplified his voice. Dressed in his colourful outfit like some outlandish bird, the orc host kept prattling on as if this were all planned. "It looks like... Can it be? It seems that a kobold has just entered the ring! Behold--the grand prize for tonight's show! Get your bets in now, your bets in now, because if you can predict the outcome of the matches, you might stand to win all sorts of prizes including even a personal slave..."
The crowd continued to cheer, though Whitetail could also hear booing and hissing as the orcs jeered at her. Proud and unbroken, she stood tall and turned around slowly, pointing her dagger in all directions. To the death--she would fight any orc who thought they could make her a slave and make her their property!
Suddenly the host cut himself off and put a hand to his ear, clearly listening to something. He turned to stare at the control booth. Whitetail had been trying to keep close watch on both the orc gladiators, who were standing back and looking unsure what was happening. Turning around, Whitetail switched her gaze back to the control booth she'd just broken free from.
Through the shattered glass, she could see that old orc with his mane of grey hair, looking furious and glaring at her. He was speaking into some sort of device in his hand, which looked just like the device the host was holding. Whitetail glared up at that control booth, making eye contact with the slavemaster. As their gazes met for the very first time, she saw rage and fury in the eyes of that orc, and that put a joyful, toothy grin across her snout. The slavemaster said something that Whitetail couldn't hear, but the device he was holding was clearly relaying his voice to the host.
"My dear audience! We've had a change in our itinerary for the night!" the host suddenly announced cheerfully, and his voice echoed around the large underground area. Whitetail spun around and once again refocused her attention to the fighting arena. "Stonefist and the Anthill will have to wait a few minutes, because we're going to be kicking off this show with something a little more bloody! Make your bets, make your bets now! How long will this kobold slave last? Because we're bringing in the hounds!"
In unison, the two gladiators backed off through gates in the metal fencing that were sealed by assistants as soon as they passed through. There was movement by the side of the fighting ring, and a series of cages were wheeled over by orc slaves. Each cage contained a dog, and the dogs began furiously barking as the orcs noisily slapped metal rods against their cages.
Whitetail's hands were sweaty, and she had to tighten her grip on her knife. These dogs were slaves too and she had no wish to harm them, yet they had clearly been trained to attack. "Bark! Bark, bark!" they went, spittle and drool showering through their cages.
Whitetail took a deep breath to calm her heart. All around the arena she could see workers going around the crowd, receiving currency in exchange for small tickets of paper--bets, for which she was the target. The barking was loud, the crowd was louder, but the host's voice was audible over it all. "Five seconds? Ten seconds? Thirty seconds? Maybe even a full minute? How long can this kobold survive before the dogs tear it to pieces? Place your bets! The only thing that's certain is this--things are about, to, get, bloooody!"
Back in the control booth, everything was noisy and chaotic. Helix had frozen up as Whitetail suddenly attacked the orcs, and he still hadn't known how to react as she had smashed her way out of the window and jumped down into the fighting arena's ring.
"Kill that kobold! Kill it now! The dogs, feed it to the dogs!" the slavemaster had roared, and then he stormed out of the control booth and headed down to the ring. His bodyguards followed--one of the orcs swung his fist at Helix as they ran past, and the blow snapped the kobold's head backwards. He was knocked back against the booth's wall and he tumbled to the ground, stunned and with ears ringing.
Helix wasn't sure how many long seconds it took him to recover, but when his senses returned he found himself lying on his side and curled up into a ball, hugging his knees against his chest. The booth was almost empty of orcs--the slavemaster and his bodyguards had left, along with the guests of the slavemaster. The control console for the fighting arena was still being manned by two technicians, but they were on their feet and staring out the shattered glass, watching the ring below.
The two technicians were conversing with each other as they controlled the show, but with music and the sound of the crowd booming in from outside, it was impossible for Helix to hear what they were saying.
"...never had such nonsense. Do you think it was planned?"
"...look on his face? I doubt..."
"Wait, wait no. Just... spotlight three refocused on the..."
"I can't... link up? Maybe tell the handlers to just go for... Not really adequate..."
The crowd was so loud that Helix pinned his ears flat against his head. Instinct told him to remain small and unnoticeable--if he hid away, he was less likely to be injured. Yet curiously enough, a different instinct forced him to crawl forward. Down in the ring he could hear barking from the attack dogs, and Helix didn't doubt that a similar fate would surely await him if he and Whitetail didn't make their escape.
"Whitetail..." he murmured, his voice so quiet that he might have just thought it. "Whitetail. You crazy kobold..." Helix murmured again.
That crazy, dauntless, bold kobold, Whitetail, with her defiant glare and her tail tipped in white. It had been so very long since Helix had seen another kobold, but he was pretty sure that his people usually weren't quite so fuelled by fearlessness and bravery. Meeting her, having her hug him, and listening to her determination felt like something out of a dream. Unlike him, she hadn't given up and served, and she certainly wasn't a slave. Just fifteen minutes of exposure to her audacity now inspired him to act.
The technicians weren't paying attention to him. Helix crawled across the control booth, and he snuck his way under the console, taking care to avoid the orcs' boots or their thick legs. The kobold reached up a hand towards the underside of the control console, where there was a small button hidden away. He'd seen the technicians use that button before, but only when they were very sure that everything else was disconnected. As best he could guess, it was a reset or override that was used for testing.
Helix wasn't sure what pressing that button would do. All he knew was that Whitetail had told him that she was creating a distraction so that he could create an even bigger distraction, and so that was exactly what he would do. They had to escape now.
"Freedom or death? What a stupid idea..." Helix murmured to himself.
Helix placed his finger on that button and pressed it down. Nothing happened for one second, then two, then five.
And then everything happened at once.
"SKRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" Whitetail instinctively ducked and covered her ears as a deafening squeal blasted out across the arena. It felt like a solid wave of noise had echoed down from all across the roof of the underground space, and that overwhelming sound resonated all around as the air itself seemed to shake.
Simultaneously there was a massive flash as every single light that had been in the roof of the arena blinked on to maximum brightness for a single split second before flickering into darkness. The lights continued to flicker on and off in a dazzling, blinding manner that had no predictability or rhythm.
Despite her hatred of this place, Whitetail couldn't help but feel a sense of shocked awe at the sudden display. The orcs knew how to put on a show, but now the show was going all wrong. Whitetail ran towards the side of the fighting ring. She jumped up and tried to climb up the caged fence that surrounded the ring, but what she hadn't noticed where a series of cylindrical tubes that had been placed around the ring facing upwards.
Even under the chaotic light and sound, Whitetail heard a distinct thump as the tubes all suddenly exploded, releasing a blast of wind that knocked her off the fence. Falling back into the ring, Whitetail crashed back onto the stony ground. Small pieces of paper had filled those tubes, and the confetti now was fired out into the air in all directions. Yet more contraptions also sprayed out jets of flame from around the caged-off central ring of the fighting arena, adding heat as well as even more noise and light.
"EEEEEEEEEEE--BZZZZZZZZZzzzmmm." Finally after about a dozen seconds, everything came to a halt. The deafening squeal which had filled the air faded away to silence, and the flickering lights suddenly all shut off.
In the resultant darkness, Whitetail rolled onto her front and pushed herself into a crouch. With almost all the lights shut off, it was hard to see much but she could still use her ears. All around, there was the sound of yelling and screaming as all the orcs wondered what was going on.
"What's happening?"
"Is this part of the show?"
"Fire! Fire! Run!"
"Get out!"
Blinking her eyes, Whitetail could see the confetti slowly raining down around her. Of all those small pieces of coloured paper, some were smoking, and some other pieces were even actively aflame--they had been set ablaze by the pyrotechnics. As the paper slowly drifted out of the air, they started to form a layer on the ground, and the fire continued to grow.
Out of nowhere, someone grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. Whitetail struggled for a moment, then she realized it was Helix. "...shouldn't have worked, you know that? Shouldn't have worked," the male kobold was saying to her. "The window of the control booth was replaced by breakable glass only last week because they were planning a special performance. Normally you wouldn't have been able to make it through the glass."
Whitetail was feeling dizzy and disorientated, and she clutched onto Helix for stability. "Helix..."
"The spark jets aren't ever supposed to be set off at the same time as the confetti cannons. I'm not fully sure what I did back in the control booth, but I think I might have started a fire."
"Escape. We need to... ahk..." Whitetail coughed, trying to clear her throat.
Reaching up to Whitetail's neck, Helix lifted off the slave collar carefully and then tossed it aside. In a smooth motion he did the same with his own collar. His touch was firm, yet gentle. "You're mad, Whitetail. Now let's go," he agreed, Helix seemed like such a strange, odd conundrum to Whitetail. First he had been hesitant and meek, but now it was like he was a different person--more determined, more decisive--the person he had once been, from before he'd become a slave. Holding her hand and pulling her forward, Helix led the way to the side of the fighting ring.
All around the two kobolds, the underground darkness was being increasingly lit by the flickering orange of fire. Smoke was filling the air, and the crackle of flames was replacing the panicked screaming of orcs. The huge crowd of spectators was pushing and shoving, chaotically funnelling out of the wider arena area in various directions.
In the dark, flickering light, the two kobolds fled down a tunnel that was otherwise empty. At some point in the chaos Whitetail had lost her dagger, so instead she held onto Helix's hand as they ran. Distantly they could hear the angry barking of dogs behind them, as well as panicked screaming.
At first the two kobolds sprinted, but then they left the large tunnel. A smaller ventilation shaft ran along the roof with fans at regular intervals. One of these fan openings was loose enough to pry free, and Whitetail crouched down and lifted Helix on her shoulders so he could reach the opening before lifting her up as well. They then crawled through the ventilation shaft. An orc could never have fit in here, but they easily could.
Inside the dusty shaft, Helix led the way and Whitetail could hear him nervously muttering to himself. "Freedom or death? I don't want to die. I really don't want to die. I'm too young to die. I haven't done anything with my life... What would I leave behind? I don't want to find out what comes next. Not yet. Not yet..."
"Helix." Whitetail tried to get his attention, but Helix was too engrossed to notice until she physically grabbed his tail and gave it a gentle tug. "Helix!"
Mid crawl, Helix stopped and he glanced back over his shoulder. The ventilation shaft was dark, but his eyes reflected back some light from the fan openings. "Huh?"
"We're not going to die. We can do this," Whitetail assured him. "Just take a deep breath and stay calm. So where are we headed? Where does this tunnel lead to?"
Helix inhaled and held his breath so long that Whitetail was impressed with his lung capacity, before he finally let it all out in a quiet huff. "Hah. Ok. Right. So... These ventilation shafts run all through the underground complex, which comprises of a lot more than just the fighting arena. There is an underground market and plenty of housing areas down here, but we don't want to go there. There would be too many orcs there for us to escape."
Whitetail nodded encouragingly. "Alright, so where are we going?"
"We need to find our way back to the surface first. Finding a tunnel that opens to the surface is hard, but... I think I know the way."
"Fine. Lead the way and let's get out of here."
The two kobolds resumed crawling along the ventilation shaft. Occasionally they would hear the clomping sound of boots as orcs ran down the tunnel below them, but they remained undetected.
Finally after many long minutes of crawling, Helix came to a stop and Whitetail bumped her head against his tail. "Here. Just as I hoped! This is our way out of the fighting arena and maybe out of the city entirely," Helix said to her.
The ventilation shaft ended here, terminated by a metal grate. At Helix's push the grate swung open, and the two kobolds crawled out and dropped down into an even larger, even darker tunnel.
The air was stale but breathable, and thick with the scent of metal and machine oil. Whitetail felt gravel or crushed stone against her bare feet, but this tunnel was so dark that she could hardly even see anything. Kobolds had good night vision, letting them see by moon or starlight, but not in total darkness. "Helix...?" she called.
"Over here. Wait, I can get some light..." For a moment there was nothing, and then out of the darkness there was light. With one hand Helix was holding a small stick of crystal that glowed with a pure white magical light. With his other hand he resealed the sling pouch bag he was wearing across his shoulder and waist, from which he had taken his light. "There we go."
Whitetail nodded with approval, and she gazed curiously at Helix. "Where'd you get that thing?"
Helix waved his light stick about. "It's called a sun stick. It has a magical enchantment on it--leave it in the sun and it'll absorb the light, which can be released later for use in the dark. Someone left it around once, and so I grabbed it. It's nice, isn't it? Very useful."
Whitetail didn't bother to hide her grin. Carrying and collecting trinkets (preferably shiny ones, if possible) was a common hobby of many kobolds, and it brought her much amused joy to see Helix looking proud of his crystal sun stick. "What else do you have in that bag? Anything else interesting?" Whitetail asked, her gaze darting down to the canvas belt Helix was wearing across his chest.
"A few things... I can show you later, but maybe we should focus on getting out of this city first," Helix replied, and Whitetail couldn't agree more.
"Good point. So where are we?" The sun stick threw out a bubble of pure white light to their surroundings, which allowed Whitetail to get a good look around. The two kobolds were currently in a large, circular, straight tunnel that was almost completely empty. The walls were made from brick, and the only notable feature was a small metal grate at one side, halfway up the wall, from which the two kobolds had just emerged. The ground was made from small, irregular chunks of rock, and right in the centre of the tunnel there was a pair of metal rails that ran parallel to the tunnel. Whitetail had heard of such things before, but she'd never seen such technology in the kobold lands.
Helix pointed at the rails. "That's railway track. This is an underground tunnel for a train, and it should be our way out of here."
Helix explained it as they walked along the tunnel. "Springs. Huge springs. Giant spirals of metal that can store energy and then release it."
"And these springs are what power the trains?" Whitetail asked.
"Yes. I've heard orcs talk about it back in the fighting arena. Think of a horse carriage, but instead of having a horse pull the carriage along, the carriage's wheels turn on their own using the stored-up energy in giant springs. Then because there isn't a horse to guide it about, the carriage must ride on metal guide rails from one point to another, and that's the simple explanation for how a train works."
Whitetail chuckled, and she nudged Helix with her elbow. "Hehe. It seems that having lived in an orc city for so long, you've picked up some knowledge on their technology."
Helix smiled. "I listen to their talk. This tunnel and these trains are all quite new technology, built just in the last year. We had to close off a section of the fighting arena because this tunnel was being drilled, and I heard some talk about the ventilation system emptying into the train tunnel... Anyway, the orcs in this city have a train network connecting it to other cities, even including the closest dwarf city. That's our way out of here."
"Sounds good. We just keep walking?"
"We keep walking till we find a train, or a station, or something else useful," Helix confirmed.
They kept walking. Deep underground in this train tunnel where there was no view of the sky, Whitetail wasn't sure what time of day it was, but she expected it was getting late into the night. Eventually her stomach growled, and loud enough that Helix apparently noticed.
"Are you hungry?" Reaching into his sling pouch bag again, Helix took out a bread roll and offered it to her. "It's not much, but it's food."
Whitetail took the bread with a grateful nod. "Resourceful, aren't you? Thanks." The bread roll was small and slightly crumpled from having been stored in a pouch, but to her it was still delicious as she bit down. The slavers had only given Whitetail food once or twice a day, and always it had just been leftovers from their own meals--chicken bones that had already been stripped of meat, or the thin layer of porridge on the bottom of a bowl, and other such scraps.
Eating the bread quickly helped alleviate the ache in her belly. After eating about half, Whitetail offered the bread back to Helix; he took it and ate a single bite, then he gave it back for her to finish. As they kept walking steadily down the tunnel, Whitetail interlocked her arm with Helix's at the elbow. He seemed slightly surprised by this contact but didn't question or object to it.
"So how did you even end up here?" Whitetail asked, between bites of bread. "How did you end up the only kobold in this orc city, enslaved by a fighting arena?"
"It's a long story," Helix said.
"It's a long tunnel," Whitetail countered.
"True." Helix fidgeted with his sun stick, spinning the crystal light around in the palm of his hand a few times before replying. "I used to be a cartographer working in the Hensha Savannah past the neutral zone. That was... in centaur territory."
"And the centaurs caught you trespassing?"
"Oh no. I was working for them. There was a centaur tribal herd which wanted someone to map out the exact limits of their territory, to help settle a dispute with another tribe." Helix gestured with his crystal light, as if he were making careful markings on a parchment. "The centaurs were concerned that a group of rogue bandits (also centaurs) had set up camp nearby, but they weren't agreeable about which tribe ought to handle it. So they asked for a neutral mapmaker to decide on a good split of territory between tribes, and my scale family offered to send me. A human or dwarf cartographer would have charged more."
Whitetail nodded. "And then?"
Helix let out a soft, quiet chuckle that had little joy. "Hah. And then I went to go map out these centaurs' lands, but then the bandits that had been pestering the region heard about it and attacked. Of course, centaurs with their special cultural mentalities have this... taboo on actually attacking each other, so there was a lot of tents being burned, but no one got hurt. Except me. I was... taken as plunder along with whatever equipment they could find, and then sold. Through a long series of transactions between slave traders which I cannot fully describe, I ended up in an orc fighting arena. I thought I would be forced to fight to the death, but instead they just had me cleaning under tables and inside ventilation shafts and in other small spaces."
"And no one ever came looking for you? What about those centaurs who hired you? Or your scale family?" Whitetail asked.
"Oh I'm sure they tried to find me, but the Hensha Savannah is not anywhere near here. It's on the far side of the neutral zone." Helix sighed. "I do miss my scale family. I hope they're doing alright."
"Don't worry. We're getting out of here and then you can go home," Whitetail replied. With Helix's arm still locked with hers, she pulled him slightly closer and bumped her shoulder against his. "We'll make it out."
"Maybe." Helix shrugged. "But what about you? How did you end up here, in an orc city as a slave?"
"My story is actually quite similar to--" Whitetail began to say, but then Helix suddenly grabbed her arm.
"Wait, wait, wait. Is that...? Do you feel that?" Coming to a stop, the male kobold froze for a few seconds, then he crouched down and placed a hand on the metal rails which ran down the middle of the tunnel.
Whitetail did the same, bending down to touch the rail too. The metal was polished smooth to the touch and not at all rusted. For a moment Whitetail wasn't sure what Helix was doing, but then she felt it too. The track was faintly shaking. Spinning around, she looked behind them. The tunnel stretched far beyond what they could see from the light of Helix's sun stick, but then out of the darkness there came a distant, tiny pinprick of light, resembling a very bright star. Within seconds this star grew brighter and larger, and the vibrations of the track started to increase. "That... is a train," Whitetail concluded.
"Yes, yes, it is," Helix agreed. "I've always wanted to see a train up close." Still standing in the middle of the track, he kept staring at the rapidly approaching light, as if hypnotized by it. "You know, clockwork mechanized engine rolling stock technology was just on the cusp of development a few decades ago... The human Marlander Empire was doing research with a coalition of dwarf machinists to build transport connections both within and between cities. The orcs didn't want to join at first, and instead they let the humans and dwarfs work out all the teething issues before they signed on for the final product. I've sometimes wished that our kobold tribes were less decentralized and could have joined the collaboration--"
"Helix!" Whitetail interrupted Helix even as he babbled on, by physically tackling him aside. The two kobolds hit the side of the tunnel and fell to the ground--just in time too, for the train nearly missed them.
With a thunderous, rhythmic rumble and the steady screech of metal rubbing against metal, the train whizzed past them. A heavy gust of wind swept through the tunnel, bringing the stench of machine oil and metal, so thick that it was almost choking. Even in such close proximity, the darkness of the tunnel made it difficult to see the train itself, other than the broad impression of a large, heavy machine moving with great mechanized speed. Whitetail had rarely seen things move that fast--the closest comparison she could think of was once having seen a griffin dive from high and do a close flypast, or perhaps watching a herd of centaurs stampeding across a plain, but both those experiences had been out in the open. Caught in the enclosed area of the tunnel with the train, its speed and weight felt like it was physically shaking her to the bone.
It took a mere handful of seconds for the train to sweep past them, and then it was suddenly gone. The rhythmic rumble instantly started to quieten down, and the vibrations gradually faded away. Whitetail had been lying on top of Helix, but slowly she pushed back to her feet. She offered her hand to Helix, and when he grabbed it, she pulled him back to his feet too. "That was too close for comfort."
Helix brushed off some of the small chunks of rock that had gotten stuck to his scales, and he shook himself all over. "Wow. Back in the fighting arena I could always hear the rumble when trains passed by in the nearby tunnel, but to see one up close... Wow."
Whitetail wasn't quite sure what to say. There was something impressive about the technology, even if it also angered her to think that this sort of capability could exist simultaneously with the uncivilized cruelty of slavery and a fighting arena. Looking forward again, she realized that she could still see the train--a glowing red light marked the rear end of the vehicle, shining backwards. But instead of rapidly disappearing into the darkness again, the train appeared to be slowing down. "Look! Is it...?"
Helix turned to look as well. "Huh! The train's stopping. Did it see us?" Then he frowned, and pointed ahead. "No, wait. There's more light there ahead in the tunnel. Do you see it? All along the side, right next to where the train stopped."
Whitetail nodded. She could see that just up ahead, a moderate distance away and past a bend, there was a section of the tunnel which opened up and had many proper lights illuminating the area. "What's that place? Why did the train stop there?"
Helix broke out into a grin. "It's a station! The train's stopped at the station! If we catch it, we can ride it until it leaves the city!" He bent down and quickly snatched up his sun stick, which he had dropped on the ground. Then together, the two kobolds sprinted forward towards the stopped train, waiting in its underground station.
They slowed down as they came around the tunnel bend and got closer to the station, to approach it with more care. The underground train station was simple in construction--the tunnel opened up on one side, with several benches placed in a waiting area that was lit by ceiling lights. Stairways led up to the surface, but as far as Whitetail could tell, there were no orcs anywhere to be seen; none in the station, or even on the any of the train cars.
With Whitetail now leading the way, the two kobolds ran up to the train idling in the station. From directly behind it was hard to tell how many separate carriages comprised this train. Each train carriage was a metal box with doors on the side, along with glass windows that allowed a view of the interior, and inside there were empty seats arranged in rows. The underside of the train carriage was obscured by the wheels, but Whitetail caught glimpses of rapidly spinning mechanisms and smoothly interlocking gears.
"This train is big!" Helix commented. He twisted his sun stick, which made it stop glowing, then slipped it right back into his sling pouch. "Wow. This thing must do the job of a dozen horses, or a hundred."
Whitetail nodded, but she wasted no time on admiring the mechanized machine. "I don't see any orcs. It looks like no one else is on this train at this time of night. Let's go!" Running up to the last carriage, she jumped up and climbed onto the rear, where there was a short ladder leading up to a rear-facing door. After a quick peek inside to double check that the carriage was empty, she tugged on the handle of the rear door and it slid smoothly open. Whitetail climbed aboard just as there was a whistling sound from the distant front of the train, and the whole train rumbled and started to roll forward.
Turning around, Whitetail bent down and offered her hand to Helix, to pull him aboard too. "Wow..." Helix muttered, as he shut the door behind him.
Whitetail held onto a railing running along the side of the train to stabilize herself as it rocked from side to side, quickly picking up speed as it rolled out of its station and back into the dark tunnel. She walked forward and hopped up onto the last seat. The chair was cushioned but felt dusty with the dirt from countless orc rears. Because the chairs had been made for orcs, Whitetail's feet couldn't even reach the floor while she was seated.
Helix sat down beside her. "Kobolds on a train," he muttered.
"Hahahehehehe..." For some reason that comment made Whitetail break out into smirking giggles. After all the tension and stress of their hectic escape from the fighting arena, for the first time she could just sit back and relax as the train carried them away. She leaned against Helix and let out a relaxed sigh.
Whitetail's calm lasted for all of one single minute. The tunnel outside was dark again, with the walls barely even visible from the light cast by the train's interior lighting. However, this train carriage also had windows facing forwards and towards the next carriage just in front, which was connected by more doors and a rubber gasket; through these windows, movement was visible.
Whitetail immediately ducked forward and hid behind the seat directly in front of them. "Someone's coming!"
Helix was slower to react. The male kobold again just stared, looking confused. "Huh? What?"
Whitetail reached up and grabbed Helix's sling pouch to pull him down beside her. But then curiosity got the better of them both, and they both slowly peeked their heads over the seat. It didn't look like an orc approaching from the forward carriage. Instead, the person or object seemed... blocky.
"What is that thing?" Whitetail whispered.
"I'm not sure," Helix replied.
Before either kobold could react any further, the doors connecting this carriage to the one directly in front suddenly swished open, and something entered. Whitetail's first impression was that a large grey rectangular block had just flown into the carriage, but she quickly realized that the blocky object was actually sliding on a guiderail system that was attached to the ceiling. "More orc trickery..."
On the other hand, Helix perked up. "Oh...! Oh that's not orc tech at all. That's dwarf work! That's an enchanted stone golem. You can see the magical runes carved into the stone--"
"Shh!" Whitetail hushed him, and they both went quiet. Regardless, the stone golem slid over on its rail until it reached the back of the carriage, where it stopped right next to the two kobolds. Still hiding down between the two seats, Whitetail didn't dare to move. Up close, the stone golem appeared as an obelisk shape--it was a vertical stone pillar with four sides, connected to the ceiling at the middle of the carriage by a rolling mechanism. It was only about tall enough to cover the top third of the carriage's height. Dense, deeply intricate carvings covered the grey stone surfaces all over.
There was active magic in those carvings, clearly visible as some of the shapes and lines glowed faintly. Whitetail was no magician and she could not interpret runes, but she knew that specific shapes and designs could store and utilize magical power. A simple enchantment could make a door swing open automatically when someone approached, for example, but these enchantments were clearly far more complex than that. Even without a deep understanding of magical calligraphy, Whitetail got the disturbing feeling that this lifeless rectangle of stone was watching her.
The stone golem was still for a moment, then trails of light criss-crossed the stone surface facing them. A flat, muffled, androgynously courteous voice emanated from somewhere inside the stony device, speaking in the common language. It didn't even have the growly tones of an orc voice, but instead sounded more like the deep baritone of a dwarf. "Welcome aboard Bakuta City Nocturnal Express Line, operated by AG-Traxis Systems. Please present tickets for inspection."
Neither kobold moved. Without turning her head, Whitetail darted her eyes to look at Helix, and their gazes met. Barely opening his mouth, Helix murmured softly to her, "Don't move. I've heard about stone golems before. I think their vision is based on movement."
For a few seconds there was no sound except for the rhythmic rumble of the train, and there was no movement save for the slight rocking of the carriage from side to side. "Please present tickets for inspection," repeated the golem.
Lights flashed across the stone golem's surface, and then the voice got louder. It still sounded flat and calm, but it was distinctly more audible now. "Welcome aboard Bakuta City Nocturnal Express Line! Operated by AG-Traxis Systems! Please present tickets for inspection!"
Whitetail and Helix both didn't move still. "Um..." Whitetail said.
"It's just an automaton, a machine, the work of some artificer," Helix said. "I don't think it really sees us."
A small circular hole opened up on the stone golem, and a bright white light shone out at the two kobolds. The golem's voice got even louder, and this time it sounded like it was shouting. "GOOD EVENING! PRESENT TICKETS FOR INSPECTION!" The bright light started flashing repeatedly at them, casting shadows against the seat.
"I think it does see us," Whitetail muttered.
"That seems likely," Helix agreed.
Whitetail slowly stood up, though even while fully standing her head didn't fully reach the stone golem's level. She had to stand up on the seat just to be similar in height. "Hello...?" she asked, hesitantly speaking to the automaton.
The stone golem clicked its light off. "Present tickets for inspection," it repeated. Its artificial voice still remained totally flat, yet for some reason Whitetail felt like she could detect the faintest trace of smug satisfaction.
"We don't have tickets," Whitetail admitted. When Helix looked nervous and shook his head at her, she just shrugged. "You said it's just a machine. It's a machine to check tickets. It can't throw us off the train, right?"
"I hope not," Helix said. "But maybe it can call out an alert to have actual orcs come and arrest us."
Whitetail cracked her knuckles and wondered if she could defeat a stone golem. Punching a big pillar of carved stone didn't seem like a good idea, though perhaps if she could just scratch up some of those carved runes, then that would be enough to disrupt the magic. "Yeah, we don't have tickets. What are you going to do about it?" she told the golem. Whitetail bared her teeth at the golem, but it didn't seem at all intimidated.
"If you have not purchased tickets at the station, you may purchase them now!" it replied in that same flat, faintly courteous voice. The stone golem rotated ninety degrees so a different stone surface was facing them. The carvings on this side appeared to have a map of some sort, and a trail of small lights illuminated. "Please indicate your destination station."
"Uh..." Whitetail scratched her head as she thought about this. "Dronos?" she tried, using the name of the dwarven city they were trying to escape to.
Lights flashed across the stone golem's surface, but apparently this was some sort of processing being done instead of a display. After a few seconds it echoed back a slightly muffled version of Whitetail's request in her own voice. "The... 'Dronos?' station is not currently available. Passenger service to cross-border routes including: Mikoniir, Dronos, Kadrin City, Senthon Way, and Vihaly North... is currently planned to commence by the end of this year. Please choose another destination."
Whitetail raised both hands in a shrug, and she wondered if the stone golem knew how to interpret this gesture. She glanced at Helix. Despite the fact that they were both lost in a vast orc city, there was something very reassuring about the fact that at least they were lost together. "Helix! What do?"
Helix shrugged back at her. "End of the line, then?"
Across the carved-out map on the stone golem, the very last light in the trail started to flash. "Ziforang... You have selected: Two... tickets for... Ziforang." The golem paused for a moment. "Discounted fees for children are available," it then added.
Whitetail and Helix both exchanged glances. "We're not childr--" Helix began to say, before Whitetail interrupted him.
"No, we are! We're just normal orc children riding an orc train. Nothing suspicious here."
The golem rotated ninety degrees once more, and a flap opened up, revealing several small slots. "Your fee is displayed. Insert coins now."
"Coins? About that part..." Whitetail still wasn't sure what this strange automaton of technology and magic would do if they just refused to buy tickets. It was stuck on its rail in the centre of the train, so it couldn't physically try to expel them. "We don't have any money--"
"Actually we do," Helix said, and now it was his turn to interrupt her. Hopping up onto the chair to stand beside Whitetail, he opened up his bag and took out a few shiny gold coins, dropping them into the appropriate slot on the golem.
Whitetail was quite impressed. "Where'd you get those from?" she asked.
"I'll explain later," Helix replied.
The automaton made several whirling noises, then it spat out several other coins of smaller denominations for Helix to take from a slot, along with two small strips of printed paper--tickets. "Thank you for travelling with AG-Traxis Systems." The slots all closed up and the lights went dark, and then without further ado the blocky machine slid away rapidly on its internal rail.
Whitetail watched the stone golem suspiciously until it had left the carriage and had gone back to the front carriages of the train, then she slumped down into the seat with a long, tired sigh. "Huuuugh." Her sigh dragged out into a snort, which became outright laughter. "Hehahaha... Ahahaha!"
Helix grinned, and he laughed as well. He stared at the paper tickets, then he pocketed the remaining coins into his pouch again. "Haha, that was weird."
"Hah... ha..." Whitetail giggled a few more times, then she leaned back against the seat. She slid to the side until she could rest her head against Helix's shoulder. "So orcs have these magnificently large mechanical carriages that run on clockwork just as fast as horses can gallop, with baffling automaton contraptions that ask you for money. And all of it was based on their negotiations and diplomacy with the humans and the dwarfs, buying their technology and artifice. So why do they need slaves at all? Let alone kobold slaves who they admit are useless?"
"I can't answer that question," Helix replied.
Whitetail used her elbow to nudge him. "Second question then! Where did you get that money from? I don't think slaves are supposed to be allowed to handle money, and I really don't think orcs would trust a kobold with money."
Helix grinned, looking proud of himself. "You remember back in the fighting arena, when we were in the control booth? There was this big pile of prizes at the side. As we were escaping, I grabbed a handful of gold coins."
"You really are resourceful." Whitetail used a finger to tap Helix's sling pouch bag, crossed across his chest. "Bread, then a light stick, and now money. What else do you have in there?"
"Nothing more that's too interesting." Helix opened up his bag to show her. Inside there was the sun stick, which had been turned off, along with scattering of things--silver coins, a magnifying glass, several handkerchiefs, a collection of screws, a small hammer, and some lint.
Whitetail nodded. Many kobolds just liked to collect trinkets--though she wasn't one of them, she could appreciate Helix's effort. "Good little collection." Then she yawned. "We're getting out of here. We're almost out of here..."
The initial surge of adrenaline from escaping from the fighting arena was fully gone by now, but Whitetail forced herself to stay awake even as the train continued down the tunnel, occasionally turning bends. Sometimes the train would approach more station platforms, but they were all empty and most of the time the train didn't even stop.
After what felt like at least an hour, the train finally swept out of the tunnel and into the open. Looking out the window, Whitetail caught glimpses of trees sweeping by, barely illuminated by the light from the train casting out into the dark of night. Whitetail also saw steady rows of streetlights as they passed by neighbourhoods. Soon enough the train started to slow down, and up ahead Whitetail could see an area where instead of buildings and roads, there were the blocky shapes of even more trains.
Unlike Whitetail, Helix had dozed off and his head was resting on her shoulder. Whitetail didn't mind, but now she elbowed Helix's side to wake him up. He jerked awake with a confused grunt. "Hmffg?!"
"We're arriving somewhere," Whitetail said.
The train continued to slow down and jostle from side to side as it switched rails. Finally there was an abrupt jolt as the train screeched to a halt, and then the rhythmic sound of gears faded away to an eerie silence.
Whitetail carefully peeked out the train window. Outside there was a sheltered platform that was dimly lit by oil lanterns. There were also other platforms and rail tracks lined up in parallel, with trains of varying length all pulled into station. Worse yet was the fact that they weren't alone--Whitetail could see _orcs_standing on some of the platforms, walking out from trains or waiting about.
Helix squeezed beside her so he could peek out the window too. "Oh. Orcs!"
"I see them. Stay low so they don't see us," Whitetail muttered.
"Ok, but... where are we?" Helix asked.
A dull grinding sound followed as the stone golem suddenly re-entered the carriage and slid over on its rail. "Thank you for travelling with the Bakuta City Nocturnal Express Line, operated by AG-Traxis Systems. This train service ends here. All passengers must alight."
Whitetail turned around, and she nodded at the golem. "Where are we?"
"This station is: Ziforang Interchange_,_" replied the automaton, in its flat, vaguely courteous voice. "If you require, this automaton can provide information on connecting train services to other destinations."
Helix glanced at Whitetail. "You said that... Earlier you said that you had contacts in the nearby dwarf city, Dronos. Was that... true? Or were you just making that up to try and fool me into escaping with you?"
Whitetail snorted dismissively. "Pah! I'm no liar, and you're no fool. There are kobold traders in Dronos and they are expecting me. Even if they weren't, they'd help us because we are kobolds." Whitetail turned to the golem, which was still waiting about in the middle of the carriage. "How do we get to Dronos? The closest dwarf city?"
Lights flashed across the golem, tracing out the intricately carved magical runes which powered it. "The... 'Dronos?' station is not currently available. Passenger service to cross-border routes including: Mikoniir, Dronos, Kadrin City, Senthon Way, and Vihaly North_..._is currently planned to commence by the end of this year."
"Yes, you said that already earlier." Whitetail tapped a finger against her chin as she thought about this problem. "Hmm, passenger service to Dronos isn't running."
"The... '_Dronos'_station is not currently available. Passenger service to cross-border routes including--" The golem started to once again repeat its chant, but Whitetail cut it off.
"Shh. So there's no passenger service, but is there freight service to Dronos?" Whitetail asked. Helix looked confused for a moment, but then his face lit up as he understood.
The runes on the stone golem also lit up as it processed Whitetail's query. "... ... ... Available services to Dronos include postal delivery and cargo freight," it confirmed after a moment. "This automaton can only provide information on rail services and scheduling. For further assistance with delivering cargo, including cross-border trade restrictions and regulations, you should consult a postal office or the local branch of the Guild of Strong Traders. Would you like directions?"
"No thank you," Whitetail replied. She had no wish to meet any orcs. "Hmm. Do you have the schedule for the next freight train to Dronos? Where would that train be located?"
The golem was silent against for a brief moment before it helpfully provided this information. "A freight train is currently in staging area 6, and it is scheduled for departure to Dronos in the next hour."
"Area 6, got it." Whitetail hopped off the train seat, and she beckoned Helix after her. "Let's go! Once we leave this train, stay low and stick to dark areas. Hopefully the orcs won't see us."
"Lead the way and I'll follow your tail," Helix said to her. He turned to the stone golem and waved at it. "Thank you. You've been very helpful!" After this remark, Helix appeared slightly embarrassed when Whitetail stared at him. "What? I was just being polite."
"It's a stone golem. It's not alive. It has no feelings."
"I know, I know. But I'm still polite." Helix shrugged. "Let's go!"
They slipped out of the train and into the darkness. The platform was well lit, but the closest orcs were at the far end so Whitetail and Helix quickly sprinted away before anyone could notice them.
Darting between stacks of crates, bushes, and even stationary trains, the two kobolds stayed out of sight. Discontinuous pools of light marked out certain platforms and areas, but there was also dark for them to hide in. They wandered around the rail yard, looking over signs and ground markings to find their way onto the correct train. It was a cloudy, moonless night, and the darkness hid them well.
"Staging Area 5, Kadrin City District?" Whitetail read, pointing at a sign which was attached to a fence. "We're looking for 6. It should be nearby."
Helix shivered, just enough for her to notice. "I don't like this... We're not supposed to be here."
"You're right. We're not supposed to be in this city. Just don't get caught," Whitetail assured him. "Stay alert. As long as we don't get spotted by any orcs, we'll be fine."
After yet more wandering about, they finally came across another fence gate which was marked with what they were looking for. "Staging Area 6, to Dronos. That's the one," Whitetail said.
"Ok. Go," Helix replied.
The fence gate was unlocked and well oiled, swinging open without a squeak. Past the fence there was yet more rails, all arranged in parallel but with many crossovers and switch points. Large, rectangular, bulky train carriages sat in long chains, shrouded in darkness and immobile. Instead of the windows and chairs of the passenger train that had snuck them into this rail depot, the cargo carriages had no windows and were just metal boxes with large sliding doors on their sides.
"Wow..." Helix murmured.
"Keep focused! Let's get aboard."
Whitetail headed over to the longest line, with Helix following right behind her. Here on this main track there was dozens and dozens of train cars all coupled together, and right at the start there was a pair of locomotives waiting to pull off their payload. Whitetail breathed a quiet sigh of relief at having made it through the rail yard without getting caught by any orcs, but her calm turned out to be premature.
Just as the two kobolds were sneaking past the two locomotives, a voice called out to them. "Who goes?" asked a raspy, distinctly orc voice.
Whitetail instantly spun around and crouched down against the side of the train, where it was most shaded and dark. Helix heard the voice and he also froze up, crouching behind her. This area of the rail yard was sparsely lit, but light was still shining from other more illuminated areas. Kobolds had decent night vision, but Whitetail wasn't sure how good was orc night vision.
"I can still see you two. Who goes there?" repeated the voice, and Whitetail's ears flicked as she identified the source. An orc was standing beside one of the locomotives that they had just passed by, leaning back against the carriage. It was hard to see in the shadows, which was why they hadn't even seen the orc, but Whitetail spotted a small orange glow as the orc puffed on what was either a cigarette or a smoking pipe. "What's your name? You're not supposed to be here."
Whitetail glanced to Helix; in the dark, she could barely even make out his eyes. "Should we run...?" she quietly asked him.
Helix's response was to shrug. "Why are you asking me all of a sudden? You're the one who's been making plans and decisions throughout this whole escape. I've just been following along and trying to keep up," he whispered back to her.
The orc took another slow puff from his cigarette. "It's rude not to answer."
Whitetail considered her possibilities. Option one was to run like the wind, hoping to escape this confrontation and hide away somewhere, but there was no guarantee the orcs wouldn't eventually find them. Option two was to just attack this orc before he could raise the alarm, but there was a high possibility that two tired kobolds wouldn't be successful in combat. Whitetail couldn't see if the orc had any weapons, and she silently wished she hadn't lost her dagger earlier.
Option three was to talk their way out. Whitetail straightened up from her crouch, though she didn't step out of the shadows. "My name is Whitetail Falarcin. And who are you?"
The orc didn't move from his position, leaning against the locomotive. Large as he was, the machine was far larger. "I'm the engineer, and this is my train. What are you two doing here? We've told you kids not to play in the rail yard. It's so late at night."
Whitetail had never met or even seen an orc child, but she presumed they looked like smaller orcs, and not at all like kobolds. Nevertheless, she tried to hide her tail behind one leg so her body form more roughly resembled an orc child in the dark. "I... Uh... We wouldn't be here if we had a choice."
The engineer nodded, this expression visible from the way the cigarette in his mouth bobbed up and down. His pointed orcish teeth were faintly lit by the cigarette, but little else of his face could be seen. "And what's with the lizard costumes?"
"I..." Whitetail had no idea how to respond to this remark. If the orc could see that they weren't orcs, he ought to be attacking them or raising the alarm, but instead he just kept calmly chatting.
"Are you two playing dress up or something? Going to a party? A performance show, dressing up as lizards?"
Helix had been huddled against the train and still trying to look small, but now he straightened up too. "Not lizards! Dragons. We look like two-legged dragons, not lizards."
"I never met a dragon myself. I would like to see the City of Wings one day--I met a griffin once, and she told me legends of the dragon city. But I stay on the ground, and I visit cities of orc and dwarf and human instead." The train engineer was quiet for a moment, then he spoke on in his raspy, calm voice. "Are you two lost?"
Whitetail nodded, though she wasn't sure how visible this gesture was in the darkness. "Yes. We're just trying to get home."
"Aren't we all?" agreed the orc. "Where's your home?"
Whitetail paused as she tried to think up a lie, but deception didn't suit her. "Dronos."
"What a coincidence. My train here is headed to Dronos in a few minutes. It's leaving as soon as the primary springs finish winding from the ground station, and as soon as I finish my smoke break." The orc engineer took another puff of his cigarette. "Sky's bright tonight," he muttered, turning his head skywards.
Both Whitetail and Helix also glanced up. A thick layer of clouds partially obscured the moons and stars, but a faint orange glow was visible. "You orcs always keep your cities so well lit."
The orc let out a barking chuckle. "Har. That's not streetlights. The city is burning. See the glow?"
A strange, cold feeling swept over Whitetail, not from a cool breeze or any external source. Now that the orc engineer mentioned it, the orange glow in the sky was coming specifically from the direction of the city core.
"I heard there was some sort of disturbance in the fighting arena. Slaves escaping, or having a revolt, or something of that manner," continued the orc. "A fire started and now quite a few buildings are on fire. There'll be people hurt tonight."
"Did we... do that...?" Helix asked, in such a quiet voice that even Whitetail barely heard him.
Another chill went down Whitetail's spine. Despite all the torture and suffering she had been through, the idea of revenge gave her little pleasure now. "I hope... no one dies."
The orc took one final puff of his cigarette, then he tossed it to the ground and stamped it out with a heavy boot. "Once I was a slave myself, till I earned my freedom through years of servitude. Worked my way up the hierarchy, and I have little sympathy for slavers and those who keep people as property. Run along now, little dragon children. This train is departing." Without any further word he turned around and climbed up the ladder to the locomotive's cabin, pulling the door shut behind him.
"Orcs are strange," Helix decided.
"Agreed." Whitetail pulled on the sliding door of the train carriage. At first it seemed locked, but just turned out be very heavy, enough that it took all her weight and effort to push the door open. As soon as there was enough space, Whitetail climbed up and squeezed past the door.
The inside of the carriage was partially filled with square wooden crates about as big as a kobold was tall, but there was enough empty space for the two of them to stow aboard. Turning around, Whitetail helped Helix onboard too.
They were just in time, for the whole carriage shuddered and started to roll forward. Whitetail lost her balance and almost fell, but Helix caught her by the arm. Standing at the doorway, both kobolds watched as the train began to roll out--beams of light swept by as they passed lamps, but soon they had left the depot and entered the darkness.
When they had seen enough, together the two kobolds pushed the carriage door shut again, though they left it open a crack so that some light still streamed in from the outside. Whitetail carefully sat down on the metal floor and leaned back against one of the large wooden crates, turning her tail sideways. Helix sat down beside her too, and his tail brushed against hers. After a moment, he shifted slightly so that their shoulders were touching, and they were both leaning against each other.
"Did we make it?" Helix asked.
Whitetail nodded. "We made it," she confirmed. Reaching over, she took Helix's hand and held it. He gave her a hesitant glance, then he curled his tail and entwined it with hers--the contact was rather pleasant. "We're getting out of here."
Helix let out a sigh, and he rested his head back against the wooden crate. "Today... today was different."
"Tomorrow will be better," Whitetail promised.
The carriage's metal floor was cold and dirty, but Helix felt warm as the two kobolds huddled together. Lying down on her side, hugging onto another kobold, Whitetail was the most comfortable she had been in many weeks. The freight train jolted with a steady vibration as it rolled over the rails, creating a constant, rhythmic clanking sound as it took them out of the city and onwards. Freedom awaited.
Whitetail woke up in the middle of the night. It was colder now. She was still snuggled up with Helix, loosely spooning the other kobold from behind, hugging his tail between her legs. He was snoring softly, just barely audible underneath the rhythmic sound of wheels on track. His body was a source of comforting warmth, but the air inside the train carriage felt chilly against her scales.
Whitetail carefully slid backwards and then got to her feet. The train was still rolling onwards, and the carriage occasionally rocked slightly, making her stretch out her arms and tail for balance. Whitetail went over towards the side of the carriage and peered out. Through the slight gap in the carriage door, she could see the dark outside--they were sweeping through a landscape of swamps and mangrove forests dimly lit by a crescent moon, as the train sped onwards to its destination.
The rushing air outside the train felt humid and nippy, until Whitetail grabbed the sliding door and heaved it all the way shut. With wind no longer gusting into the carriage, the interior immediately felt a little bit warmer. Without the moonlight it was too dark to see around, so Whitetail felt her way across the carriage, stretching out her arms so she didn't walk into any crates, back towards where she could vaguely smell the familiar, scaley scent of another kobold.
Before she even got there, dim white light partially illuminated the carriage--Helix was sitting up and had taken his sun stick out from his sling pouch bag. The light from the crystal made the nearby crates cast sharp shadows on other crates, and it lit half of his face in handsome, colourless illumination.
"It was cold. I shut the door," Whitetail explained, walking to him.
Helix nodded silently, but he let out a soft grunt as Whitetail crouched down and pushed him onto his back so she could lie right on top of him. "Ooh..."
Whitetail let her weight rest on top of Helix. Kobolds were a small species. She wouldn't be cutting off his breathing. "Go back to sleep."
With one hand, Helix twisted his sun stick and the light faded away until it was barely visible. Then she felt his arms around her back, hugging her close. She could have gone back to sleep, but then after a few seconds he moved again. One of his hands slid town her back, his touch lightly ticklish against her spine, then down to the thick of her tail base. It was an exploratory touch--not demanding something, not even asking for it, but just Helix enjoying the comforting sensation of her body against his.
Kobolds needed physical touch. It was how they bonded socially. "It has been... so long since I felt warm... since I felt scales," Helix murmured.
"Orc cities aren't for kobolds," Whitetail replied.
"Orcs don't sleep together. Even the slaves sleep on their own beds." Helix shivered. "I couldn't take it. At night, sometimes I would sneak off to where they kept the hounds caged up and hug a dog, just to be less lonely."
Whitetail laughed softy, kindly. "You're out now." She contemplated going back to sleep. But she was awake, and so was Helix, and there was more they could do besides just cuddling together. Whitetail shifted her position, sliding sideways to lie beside Helix rather than right on top of him, pulling out of the hug but then immediately moving her hand to touch.
Helix made another soft grunt as she groped him. "Ooh!"
"Bet you never did this with one of those attack dogs."
"Certainly... not..." Helix's breath was halting, and he squirmed about as Whitetail reached between his legs. She moved slowly at first, giving him a chance to decline what she was offering, to say that he appreciated the cuddling but didn't want anything else--but he didn't. Instead he sighed her name in a soft, needy tone. "Whitetail..."
Whitetail felt across his waist, finding the buckle of his sling pouch to click it open and toss the bag aside. Nothing was between them now, nothing but scales and flesh. Much like the dragons they were sometimes said to resemble, male kobolds had their reproductive organ kept internal, except when it needed to be used. Whitetail rubbed Helix's genital slit, and she felt his anatomy respond.
Quickly he became erect. She couldn't properly see his groin in the dark, but she could feel his erection. It was this warm length of flesh, both stiffly hard and squishy soft at the same time, jutting forward from his groin at an angle that made it easy to grab.
Helix moved his hand too, rubbing against her body, then brushing her tail again, before daring to gently touch her slit. Some other time, Whitetail would have patiently let him explore her, and then slowly let them work each other up--but now she was impatient.
For too long she had been derived of touch. After the stressful, adventurous escape they had just been through together, a comradely, understanding friendship had been forged between them, and now Whitetail wanted to properly bond with her new friend. There was a compatibility between them--not in a way she could explain or precisely specify, but just a feeling.
She wanted something now. He was already hard, she was already wet, and that was enough. Casually Whitetail lifted herself up and straddled over Helix's body, feeling his skinny but solid form underneath her, and then just by touch she aligned their groins and got him at the right angle. Exhaling softly, she lowered her knees and let gravity do the rest, letting the male kobold's erection spear up into her. It felt so good to be _spread_that for a moment she just lay there, lying on top of him again, but now with him deep inside of her.
Whitetail luxuriated in that feeling, until finally she was hungry enough to want more, and then she started to move again. In, then out, all that delicious sensation.
"Ancestors..." Helix murmured. His eyes were half-lidded and a pleasured expression twisted his face, barely visible in the dim light of his sun stick. "I'm dreaming. This is a dream. This is too good to be real... Ahhh..."
Whitetail leaned down over Helix even as she continued to ride him. All the physical contact was delightfully intimate--warm scales pressed up against each other, sensitive flesh sliding back and forth. Even as she rested a hand on his chest, Helix grabbed her arms and pulled her towards him, until their mouths met in a sloppy, messy embrace. He pressed up into her, moving his hips in time with hers.
Whitetail utterly lacked the words to describe how much she had needed this. The warmth, the touch, the pleasure, the closeness, the bonding in the deepest and most intimate of possible ways. Entwined with each other, the two kobolds kissed and coupled and fucked with mad desperation.
In between quiet moans, Whitetail grit her teeth and let out a pleasured hiss. She locked gaze with Helix, and the hunger she saw in his eyes was matched with her own. "Tss. Yes, yes, yes right there. You feel amazing inside me..."
Helix tensed up, and his upward thrusting slowed. "Whitetail...? I'm almost--"
Whitetail slammed her hips up and down even faster, more than making up for his hesitation. She didn't want to change position or change anything, just to have more of this. "Do it. Cum inside me."
Helix made a choked, quiet, incoherent sound that could best be described as a whine, mixed with a whimper. "Eahhh...!" The male kobold went fully stiff, and he wrapped his arms and even his legs around Whitetail's back and waist, pulling her close against him.
His hips bucked upwards, thrusting deep and holding that way, buried fully inside Whitetail's slit. Muscles deep in his groin clenched hard and blood rushed into his erection, forcing it to stiffen even further and extend in length as much as it physically could, right until his tip was pressed right up against the very end of Whitetail's depths. The tipped head of his erection flared out as well, expanding to press in.
It was a simple reflex that would have a simple result. For male kobolds, ejaculation required an orgasm but was not mandated by one. Every young kobold male who had reached sexual maturity would be quick to learn that basic difference, because that decoupled reproduction from sex, and thus offered the freedom to couple without worrying about the consequences. Pleasure without responsibility.
If asked beforehand, Helix would surely have said he wasn't going to release his seed inside her. If asked afterwards, he would surely concur that this was a poor idea and he ought not to have done it. And yet in the moment, spurred by Whitetail's words, he utterly lost himself and surrendered to what his body and instinct demanded. It had been such a long time since Helix had experienced intimacy with another, and the physical and emotional circumstances buzzed his conscious mind far beyond his normal sensibilities
His erection pressed deep inside her, lining up the tip of his length perfectly as reproductive biology required. Aligned and centred like a key in a lock, in the precise manner to accomplish a far deeper goal than either kobold had intended. A split second later, blinding, overwhelming pleasure rocked through the male kobold's whole body and a lance of rich, thick semen jetted out from his erection, pumped deep inside his partner. "Hagghhh!" A yell tore its way out of his throat, mindless and primal as absolute ecstasy lit up his whole nervous system, shaking away restraint or common sense.
Whitetail stopped thrusting, and she could feel each separate pulse as Helix twitched against her, twitched inside her. The sensation of wet, liquid warmth grew in her depths, along with a building sense of pressure, and that caused a wave of gradual but inevitable pleasure to wash over her mind as her body reacted to the sensation. She pressed her snout against Helix's, not quite in a kiss but just touching their heads together from nose to horns, sharing that intimacy as they held each other close and savoured the peaks together.
Even though Helix had lost control of himself, Whitetail barely held on. Kobold reproduction required two willing partners, and she resisted her own body's reflex to let it happen. It wasn't just the male kobolds who got to choose--females also had to be receptive for it to take. Even as Helix flooded her with his pent-up, fertile essence, his load splattered against her cervix without getting through that barrier. That muscular ring was kept tightly shut, and even while shuddering through her own orgasm Whitetail refused the reflex that would have opened her cervix just the tiny, miniscule amount needed to let her mate's seed deeper inside. As they writhed against each other, she held on to just that tiny bit of mental control.
It felt so very pleasurable and so very intimate to hold a warm partner against herself, but the responsibilities of reproduction and parenthood were not something that Whitetail was ready for. Not yet. Eventually, maybe. But not tonight.
After a good fraction of a minute, Helix slumped back against the carriage floor, going totally limp. His eyes had been clenched tightly shut, but now they were just lightly shut; his face going from twisted in torturous pleasure, to dumbly content and satisfied. "Did I...?"
Whitetail relaxed on top of the other kobold, just resting her weight on him. For a moment she wanted to talk about it, about anything, exchanging thoughts and information with the partner she'd just mated with--but then a wave of sleepiness began to erode her thoughts. "Good night, Helix." It was easier to not move and keep lying down, and gradually her mind slipped away into dreams that were deep but calm.
Whitetail had lost all her official travel papers, but this proved not to be an issue. When the train arrived at Dronos and pulled into a freight terminal, the dwarf cargo handlers didn't seem to care when they found two kobolds sitting in one of the carriages. "You're not on the cargo manifest. Are you to help unload the crates? No? Then stay out of the way."
So the two kobolds stayed out of the way. Dronos was an immense underground city, built out in a warren of huge cavern systems. Some of the caves were partially open, letting in shafts of sunshine which stretched down into the depths, but other areas were fully closed from the sky. Instead, immense glowing crystals were used to light up entire streets, and luminescent algae was painted onto walls for supplementation lighting. Now Helix and Whitetail wandered through the caverns and the streets, occasionally stopping to ask for directions, gradually making their way towards the address Whitetail remembered.
Dronos was a busy trading hub, just as bustling as the orc city had been, albeit populated by dwarfs instead of orcs. Whitetail and Helix still attracted curious stares as they strolled through the city, but at least dwarfs were just as short as kobolds, so no one was looking down on them.
Finally they came to a row of shophouses in the busy downtown area. "KOBOLD CURIOSITIES" was the store name for the second shophouse, indicated by an overly large sign above the entrance. The store was nestled between a dwarf bank on one side, and another store selling fancy looking crystals and gemstones.
"Is... that the place?" Helix asked.
Whitetail laughed. "If that's not the place, then there must be some very confused dwarfs pretending to be kobolds in there."
They approached the store. Whitetail peered in through the store window and saw shelves with all sorts of goods sourced from the kobold homelands--there were mechanisms and trap devices, trinkets and artifacts, gems and jewellery locked inside display cabinets, as well as ores and minerals. In many ways, the dwarf and kobold societies shared similar interests in crafting, building, metallurgy, and mining. There were also packets of food, spices, or herbs that reminded Whitetail of home, now being sold at a premium. For a kobold these were familiar things, but for dwarfs these were exotic goods.
Helix was the first to move towards the door. The store clearly had good business, and it was busy with dwarf customers coming and going. Here at least, no one seemed surprised to see two kobolds. But Helix had barely even pushed open one of the doors when he was grabbed by the arms and suddenly yanked inside. "Ooh!"
"Hey!" Whitetail rushed over, to find Helix being tightly hugged by another kobold, slightly shorter than them both, and with reddish brown scales.
"Are you Whitetail? We thought you were dead! You were supposed to turn up weeks ago!" squeaked the reddish kobold. Then she blinked and noticed Whitetail standing at the door. "Wait, no... Are you Whitetail? Your tail is white."
"That's me!" Whitetail smiled and spread her arms. "Are you Enzha? We spoke by letter?"
"No, I'm Arrkaidos! Enzha is handling the cashier." Arrkaidos was still hugging Helix. Now she held him at arm's length and frowned at him. "So who's this? I thought you were coming alone?"
Whitetail walked over and embraced Arrkaidos, then she clapped Helix on the shoulder. "This is Helix Windjumper. I found him in Bakuta."
Arrkaidos's ears perked up. "Bakuta? Isn't that an orc city? What were you doing in Bakuta?" she asked Helix. Then she frowned and looked at Whitetail. "What were you doing in Bakuta, come to think of it?"
"Some... miscellaneous misadventure," Whitetail muttered. "I got kidnapped by orcish bounty hunter slavers in the neutral zone. They took me to their city, where I found poor little Helix who'd been kept as a slave there for... how long was it?"
Helix shrugged. "Just over a year."
Arrkaidos looked shocked. "What?! You were... the orcs.... What?!!"
Helix gestured at Whitetail. "She saved me. Rescued herself from an orc fighting arena and... and saved me too, while she was at it."
"Huuuh!" Arrkaidos gasped dramatically. She was a very dramatic kobold. "What!! That's a crazy adventure! You have to tell us the whole story! But later. First, let me get you two all introduced to everyone in the scale family. I'm Arrkaidos Koboldin. Arr-kai-dos."
She pointed towards the counter, where another kobold was hurriedly taking payment from a line of dwarfs carrying bags and boxes of kobold goods to purchase. "That's Enzha over there at the cashier." Enzha was wearing a pair of circular, metal-rimmed spectacles over his snout, through which he squinted at receipts. "Katri, Yolnr, and Bluescale are upstairs, resting cause it's not their work shift. As you can see, we have our shop down here, and upstairs is the living area and also storerooms for excess product stock."
Arrkaidos frowned. "Oh, we might need to reorganize the upstairs. We cleared enough free space for you, Whitetail, but we'll need a little more room for your boyfriend to join us."
Whitetail laughed. "He's not my... We're just... uh... I don't know, actually."
"He's not? Ok then!" Arrkaidos looked over Helix with a critical eye as if she were evaluating a new product. "Grr... Cause if you don't want him, I might want him." With a playful little growl, she moved around the male kobold and tweaked the tip of his tail, then winked at him. "If you're interested, the offer is open."
This made Helix surprised and a little flustered. He looked at Arrkaidos, then at Whitetail. "Uh..."
Whitetail folded her arms and gave him a look. Helix wisely said nothing.
Arrkaidos beamed at both Helix and Whitetail. "Anyway, welcome to scale family Koboldin! It's really exciting how much potential there is now that we've finally got a trading outpost here in Dronos. The dwarfs just_love_ buying kobold products. We're understaffed, so you two are very much needed."
Whitetail nodded. "Thanks. I'm glad to be here. But now our scale family is... Koboldin? When I was exchanging letters with Enzha, I thought the family name was Velgrig? Koboldin is very... literal."
Arrkaidos put her hands on her head. "I know. It's silly. We're kobolds named Koboldin--that's ridiculous! But Enzha said it would be a good rebranding and would constantly remind the dwarfs that we're kobolds. They're much less strict with their paperwork when they understand we're not dwarfs." She sighed expressively. "We took a vote. I got outvoted, so now we're scale family Koboldin. Maybe now that you two are here, we can vote to change it back to Velgrig--that's a much more classic, sensible name for a scale family, not something like Koboldin. Uggh. Let me go drag Enzha over so I can introduce you two." Arrkaidos scampered across the shop towards the cashier, dodging between the dwarfs as they stood in their neat queue.
Whitetail laughed. "Whitetail Koboldin. Now my name is doubly silly. Almost makes me tempted to paint my tail tip a different colour."
Helix shook his head and glanced down at her tail. "No, white is nice."
"So are you staying here, or will you head back to the Northern Reach?"
Helix hesitated, looking lost in thought for a moment, then he nodded. "I want to write to my old scale family, to let them know what happened to me, but I'll stay here for now. Maybe for longer. I need a new place to fit in."
Whitetail smiled. "Helix Koboldin, it is."
That made him laugh. "The more you say it, the more ridiculous Koboldin sounds."
Arrkaidos came running back towards them. "Enzha says he's much too busy to leave the cashier, so you two will have to come over. Come on!" She grabbed Whitetail and Helix's hands, and then pulled them forward--into the store, into their new family, and into their new life.
END