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The Ballad of Lalep the Bold

A Retelling

3rd Season, 1566

This was it. This was how he would die.

Yet Karajan, a venerable dragon who had seen a thousand years and a score more, dragonlord of Crater-Vale and Master of the Southern Slopes, couldn't be happier.

He had outlasted his rivals, some truly powerful and exceptional dragons by virtue of his wits, his mastery of illusion and his experience. Now, as he felt his very soul being pulled from him and despite his many regrets, he knew that the void he now left would be filled by the single greatest drake the land would ever know. A dragon with a measured approach, who knew the value of his kobolds, the ever-present servants that each dragon would rule over, and a dream to unify the land for peace for all races, as well as the might to enact this plan.

Every lurking vestige of power that Karajan had within him, the portions of magic that helped sustain a dragon's strength as they grew venerable, now flooded into his closest and only... what could he call him? He was a kobold who had been the dragon's closest servant, but that wasn't enough. Figin was his name, and Karajan adored him like none he had ever known.

His selfishness had dragged his clan into a torturous fight for survival, the bond that was shared between drake and kobold unbalanced, but Karajan had refused to give in, to drift into the Final Sleep, and instead had been draining his kobolds to grasp at a pitiful existence.

Figin, though, was a leader who had driven the clan to somehow outlast every struggle, to endure endless hardships, to fight against every mishap and ailment and spitting in the face of increasingly damning conditions, only succumbing to failure against a rival clan ten times their number with a dragon who was a true apex predator. Knowing this was a fight that none of them would survive brought Karajan clarity almost too late.

He had delved into the mind of Figin and felt the potential he held, the wishes and desires he had. The dragon had to concede that Figin's virtues and dreams were more important than something as simple as self preservation, as it was this revelation that gave Karajan the bravery to at last sacrifice himself, to pass on his power and to resist the stagnant selfishness that had taken over in Karajan's last few centuries. The surfacer word that Figin held on to came to him, so alien to dragonkind, a race that mated for biological need, diplomacy or amusement, but Figin had learned about a closer bond through his studies. Their emotional bonds.

Karajan knew it before, but now accepted, that he loved Figin and he loved the dragon he was becoming, who he had dubbed Firaegin. Such an unusual feeling, but heartfelt, one Karajan wished he had enjoyed sooner, but it completed his existence.

The magic that sustained his life evaporated away like water from a lake in an unforgiving drought, the grand drake reducing in size, everything taken away and he felt as if in a spiritual free-fall. It was meant to be, though; Karajan had held on to life for so long. Too long.

Soon, it would all be over. Parts of his mind collapsed, knowledge of flight, from control of his wings to the instinctual flow of the air to allow him to glide faded into a fog that closed around him. The vast breadth of magic he commanded was torn from him, even fragments of memory, many parts beside his most core moments, were severed; he forgot names and faces of his kobolds from centuries past, dead rivals who had fallen before him, even humans he had conversed with were at first a blur before joining the black. It was horrifying, but once again, Karajan knew this was the right decision. He never doubted it. The abyss surrounded him, formed from the nothing outside of the magic, memory and physical presence that made him the dragon he was.

But then it stopped, leaving Karajan alive, if diminished. Now a kobold himself, instead of a dragon and his mind was dulled but nothing could snuff out the joy he felt.

Karajan's mind was a haze, a flood of pleasures he had never felt before as he and the newly formed Firaegin indulged in carnal acts, but never bolstered by emotions like these. It was the greatest moment in his life, to know this joy and closeness, even to be allowed the chance to do right for the abuses he had inflicted across his life.

When at last able to collect his thoughts, as he lie flat on his back and utterly spent, he could at last witness his new master as he continued to swell with strength and left the his new lair to deal with a threat on the clan, a rival dragoness, Jaraesi. Now left alone, and bereft of anything truly draconic besides the kinship kobolds and dragons held, he fainted.

He didn't know how long he was unconscious for, but he awoke to a face that was familiar, yet Karajan couldn't remember who she was, and hoped it was just the grogginess. A mature female kobold with pink eyes and light orange scales who was washing him with a wet rag that had a subtle whiff of alcohol and something sweet. Her gaze met his, and she gave him a comforting smile.

“Ah, you're awake. That's a relief." She put the rag down and dried her hands. “I don't know how you got into the master's lair, but you're safe; the new dragonlord has decreed your clan is now part of ours, clan Crater-Vale." She ran her hands over his limbs, giving gentle squeezes every few inches. “Do you feel any pain? You look to be in fair condition, but you were comatose when you were found. I suspected exhaustion; you've been asleep for a few days."

“I'm fine... I think?" Karajan was struggling to shake the haze over his mind. He sat up and she handed him a bowl of water, which he immersed his muzzle into, slurping and making the female giggle.

“That's... one way of doing it, I suppose. What's your name, young one?" she asked. Karajan gulped and cleared his throat. Young? He felt healthier than he had in centuries, a result of the Passing of the Flame and another blessing from the All-Dragon, no doubt.

“Ka-" He stopped, realising he was no dragon, and no kobold ever had a name longer than five letters shy of braggarts and upstarts, and even they were rare in any clan he'd heard of. She seemed concerned and started studying his eyes up close, and he realised he'd been silent for a few seconds with his mouth open.

“Kaja. My name's Kaja." He said, then winced and realised he was talking strangely, as if it was easier to just merge words together instead of pronouncing them in full. Karajan... Kaja was struggling to think of some longer words he used to know, or even details of his life and experiences.

The female walked over to a small cylinder with wisps of smoke emerging from a pipe on top, opened a small door and poked a thin wooden splint into it, then using that to light a nearby candle. She then held the orange flame near Kaja's face and moved it around in a slow circle, which he winced at even the low brightness and followed as his eyes adjusted until it no longer uncomfortable to look at.

“Good, your dark and light vision seems fine, and while you still seem a bit confused, you seem to be regaining your faculties in quick order. Oh, I'm Yula, by the way. You must be important, because His Grace Firaegin has requested you to see him when you were well, although he didn't know your name either. He's our new dragonlord; he took over from Karajan. It's funny, your scale colours... you... remind me..." Yula trailed off, staring into the distance then blinking rapidly, then looked at Kaja again. “What was I saying? Oh, right. When you're feeling up to it, please make your presence known to Our Mighty Firaegin."

Kaja felt his stomach rumble, and a strong ache set in. Yula gave him a reassuring smirk.

“Though it won't do for you to go and greet our dragonlord on an empty stomach. I'm afraid we're still arranging a proper food stock, so we're all eating rations and a foragers stew right now. Head out into the hub and ask around, I'm sure your clan-mates will tell you."

Kaja stood, with Yula assisting, slowly letting him stand by his own strength. He felt strange standing on his hind legs... his only legs, he supposed, and looked at his arms. No heavy muscle, just small ropey cords, three fingers and a thumb, grey palms and black claws. Looking down, he saw a trim figure with thick scarlet scales and a soft grey belly of tinier ones, and at the base there was the faint trace of his genital slit.

Broad hips, a feature of both male and female kobolds, sturdy legs ending with three clawed toes and a small dewclaw. He smirked as he could stand comfortably with the whole foot instead of digitigrade like a dragon would, where the heel would only touch the ground if they sat.

Kaja tried to take a step, but staggered. Yula darted in, hands outstretched, but Kaja raised his and looked around while getting used to standing upright, moving around as he got to grips with walking.

The room was filled with empty cots and several tables lined the outer walls, topped with a staggering number of glass beakers, bottles and flasks. Many were in use, with kobolds all huddled together and making a beguiling variety of alchemical mixtures.

He remembered hearing about kobolds at work, but seldom paid it much attention. Reports from grovelling underbosses for his guidance or other delegates asking for all manner of petty things but he never gave them much heed. He was horrible to his servants and wanted to make amends, especially for Firaegin's approval, to make the new dragonlord proud, to justify why Karajan was ever worth Figin's worship.

“Hmm, so much to do, I just don't know how to get there." Kaja mused aloud.

“Don't worry, you'll get used to the layout." Yula said, replacing the bedding from Kaja's cot with well practised motions of peerless efficiency. “Crater-Vale's small but we're planning to expand, so you've awoken at the right time; none of the expansions have started, but they're going to be digging a tunnel to your clan grounds as the first Great Work. For now, just ask and I'm sure someone will help."

“My clan?" Kaja tutted to himself and bumped his fist against his head. “Right, Clan Hoar-Frost. Is Ja- uh, Her Grand and Mighty Jaraesi... what happened to her?"

“Wounded as she went to return to her lair, but alive and recovering now that she's returned. His Mightiness has claimed her as his mate."

Kaja felt his heart turn cold and he couldn't help but sigh. It was always an outcome he expected when he gave his flame to Firaegin, as he dared to think of the instincts he had been subjected to after becoming a dragon. Kaja remembered his draconic ruts, moments when a male dragon were gradually forced into pursuing a mate by their natural urges, as gifted by the All-Dragon. It would eventually overwhelm a true drake, so a kobold mind would have no real chance to resist it.

When he was a dragon, Kaja was disinterested in mating but he had broods with a couple of females in his earlier centuries thanks to rutting, but his later years were spent pondering about company but never acting on the urge. It wasn't until his attempt to mate with Jaraesi, as a means of brokering a peace between them to protect his own life, that he realised he just didn't find female dragons attractive. Some males took his fancy, but not many and most would consider such an approach some attempt as some sort of ploy. Now, though, all his focus was on his new master.

“Well, get going, young Kaja. You're taking up space." Yula pulled Kaja from his thoughts as a kobold pushed by him, carrying a satchel full of flasks. “Just feel free to come back if you're not feeling well."

“I will." Kaja started towards the tunnel but then stopped. A lingering aspect of Figin inside him made him turn around. Something he'd forgotten, or perhaps never needed to concern himself with before. It felt right. Necessary, even.

“Thanks, Yula." Kaja waved and headed for the hub of Crater-Vale.

He was astounded by the assault on the senses that met him as a thousand kobolds filled the central living space of the clan, a two hundred foot long space and sixty wide, a violent, colourful sea of scales. The volume of pattering feet as they moved to and from passages that dotted the outer walls made the air thick and dusty, and the excessive din as every kobold competed to be heard even near each other was overwhelming.

Despite Yula's instructions, Kaja just focused inward, letting his mind wander as he tried to find wherever the food was being offered. These kobolds were nothing like her; they were little more than a pack of excitable, disorganised fools, laughing and braying at each other. They seemed everything he knew them to be as a dragon, only he could no longer dismiss them at will. All of Kaja's attempts to pluck at his mind just revealed how much had been stripped away.

Kaja was kicked by his thoughts and knocked to the floor by something... someone. A towering figure, half a foot taller than his average three foot height. The female kobold, dark blue scales with a light grey underbelly and a sturdy, powerful build looked down at him with orange eyes.

A fury sparked within Kaja. A dragon would never suffer such indignity as being pushed, and the last scraps of this essence took hold, clawing back some control.

“How dare you!" The high pitched roar slipped out as the fury sputtered and faded as the female seemed to shrink at the shout. A quiet fell over most of the crowd and many eyes turned to the two.

“Oh, oh no, I'm sorry! Here." She grabbed his waist and lifted him with ease. For Kaja, this was such a bizarre sensation; he hadn't been picked up since he was a hatchling. He was placed on his feet as the female looked him over, her hands lingering on his sides as their eyes met.

“U-um, I'm Casai." She released him and, playing with her fingers, tried to make herself as small as possible as the other kobolds resumed their business, but considering how large she was, this didn't achieve much.

“You should be-" Kaja held his tongue and sighed. She clearly didn't know better. “It's alright. Look, I'm new here and I've just woken up after being knocked out during the battle. I'm Kaja, I'm hungry and... grumpy." Grumpy? Kaja rolled his eyes; damn this fogginess. He sounded foolish... like a kobold, he supposed. “I heard there's rations to be had."

“Alright, follow me!" She grinned, grabbed Kaja by the hand and pulled him through the crowd. She pushed through the crowd as if they were nothing, and to his amazement, none of them dared to complain; whether because of her impressive build or if that this was acceptable behaviour for kobolds, he supposed it was the latter; their subservience taking hold. What he was sure of was that he could smell food, and he began salivating.

Casai made it to a large cauldron and a pile of cloth-wrapped bundles, being looked after by a few kobolds, but one Kaja fully recognised; Warchief Vusha.

Kaja had listened to military reports from her before, and he recalled her being one of the few he could tolerate as a dragon. Succinct and to the point. Where the one eyed veteran once barely stood out from the others, now she was taller than Kaja, with a tightly muscled build wreathed in bandages and older scars showing against the black scale. The red eye stared at Kaja with cold regard, and he couldn't withhold the dread and stepped back.

“Don't mind Warchief Vusha. She's really nice!" Casai smiled at him. Kaja looked between the two females, convinced either one could tear him in two, and took cautious steps toward the Warchief, who snorted at him.

“Ooh, the sneak?" she said before snickering. “You'll have to tell me how you got by the front line at some point, young'un, because that was impressive, gettin' into the lair despite our defensive line. Guessin' you just want some food for now, eh? Grab a bundle and a bowl and I'll set you up with some stew."

Kaja did as told, taking bundle and a wooden bowl with a crude wooden spoon, more a roughly whittled stick with a divot on one end, and held it out as Vusha poured out a few ladles of the thick, steaming and lumpy looking beige gunk.

“What is this?" Kaja felt compelled to ask to ask, wiping some spillage off his hands, then regretted it as Vusha smirked at him. He couldn't tell if it was mocking or genuine, even more so as she spoke and while her face wasn't as expressive as most, her presence was palpable and worthy of some respect.

“Expectin' fish there, Hoar-Frost? Maybe caviar, wine and a foot rub?" She cackled. “Nah, it's rat meat, bonemeal dumplings and diced tree fungus, and your folks gave up some of their ale rations to bring it all together. The packs're just those herb and sticky-puffball paste and dried mushroom 'n' bugmeal cracker rations your clan brought." The warchief started serving to another kobold as Kaja sniffed at the bowl.

He was insulted, revolted and close to gagging as a small part of him wanted to throw the bowl aside and demand fresh meat, but his stomach sent him of to find a quiet spot nearby, and scooping stew as fast as he could gulp it down, making a mess. Damn his dignity, at least for the moment.

The gamey and oily meat, the woody, earthy mushroom all melting together with a back of alcohol, something he'd never tried as a dragon, all padded out with the claggy and dense dumplings that made him chew and savour it all. He would never admit it, but Kaja had never tasted anything so good in his life.

It was only as he stuck his muzzle into the bowl and began licking it clean, sighing with satisfaction, that he noticed Casai watching him with a broad smile. He licked around his face as she giggled, but he couldn't help but bare his teeth, growing frustrated.

“Why do you kee-*uuurp*" Kaja covered his muzzle and Casai's giggle grew into a full laugh. “... could you stop staring?"

“I'm sorry, it's just... Crater-Vale was so miserable a few days ago, it's so nice see everyone relaxing, eating and just enjoying the company. It feels like everything's going to be better, just like Figin said it would. The elders like Vusha and Kugu say it's a lot like the older days, but even more so..." She sighed, the smile fading a little, “I just wish he was still here to see it."

“Who?" Kaja queried. “... Kugu?"

“Oh, Underboss Figin. Recruit Lalep saw him last with the old dragonlord, Karajan, but both disappeared by the time the battle was over. Then His Mightiness Firaegin stopped Great Empress Jaraesi from destroying us and took over. It's almost like Figin beca..." Casai tilted her head for a moment before continuing. “The new dragonlord's so kind! After living under Karajan all my life, it feels like a new home for all of us! I've even been reassigned to join the soldiers!" She flexed her powerful arms, but she grew sombre. “I just wish my mother... never mind."

Kaja was unsure what upset her, but a lifetime of giving draconic orders had told him all he needed to know about the sudden change of topic, especially after Yula's similar change of thoughts. Firaegin must have covered up both his and Kaja's transformation, but he wasn't sure why. A good reason, no doubt. This was Firaegin, after all.

They sat in silence for a time before Kaja opened the bundle and looked at the wooden potted blueish-grey paste and brown crackers. He offered them to Casai, not out of charity but confusion, watched her take one, scrape some of the paste up, and he copied. It wasn't as good as the stew, but there was something oddly fulfilling about the paste; it was sticky and didn't taste of much outside of the subtle savouriness and flowery herbs or the mealiness of the crackers, but the more he ate, the more he enjoyed it, like it was filling a gap inside him that he didn't know existed.

With everything eaten, Casai picked up the cloth, spoon and bowls, bundling it together, and stood.

“It was nice meeting you, Kaja. I should go see about my combat training."

“Oh... um, good luck?" Kaja shrugged. He stood as Casai walked back to Vusha to hand in the bundle and blended in with the crowd, and the former dragon started roaming to get his bearings. He spotted the tunnel to his old lair, which he recognised from the few times he'd peered down it as a dragon, noticing the human skeletal remains lining the walls, and Kaja slowed his pace as nostalgia washed over him.

Seeing this passageway reminded him that he was about to enter the old centre of his world, his life as a dragon laid bare. The silence ahead and the cacophony behind him were a firm contrast; the lair was so quiet not so long ago, out of Kaja's own mistreatment of his clan, with only Figin coming in to keep him abreast of what was going on. Even then, as Karajan, he didn't care. He should have, but hindsight revealed the depths of his mistakes.

Most dragons lead a solitary existence, after all. Kaja wouldn't have had it any other way; in his younger years he would have small groups of kobolds deliver their reports, deal with them as swift as possible and otherwise would bury himself in his thoughts, or roam the skies to keep watch on his territory. He had been the Master of the Goshev mountains, where Crater-Vale was nestled in the south western quarter but he'd circle the mountains every few days, but age and weakness made him narrow his scope to smaller and smaller sectors, only venturing out if a dragon was within his ability to sense, a few miles at most.

The Goshev's were a vast crescent of a mountain range, almost three hundred miles from tip to tip, with Crater-Vale was nestled in a maze of narrow passes in the densest part and there weren't any substantial caves for other dragons to take over nearby, and the largest human settlement in the nation of Goshev took was located in the central basin and the valley to reach it facing the main bulk of the continent of Vliechov.

Between their arbalests, vast mechanical crossbows mounted as high as possible on city walls to dissuade dragon attacks, and Crater-Vale's location preventing most land-based invasions, the Goshev mountains were a difficult place to attack no matter from where you approached, with the bulk of the towns and villages connecting to a vast circular road that surrounded the mountains called the Drake's Eye Road, which had patrols travelling from each town to the next each day.

The only worry were the rumours of humans inhabiting the smaller caves around the mountain range. Bandit groups seeking seclusion were most common, but there were darker tales, back when kobolds would sometimes converse with humans or spy on roaming merchants and the like concerning Scalecasters. Kaja was wary of them as a dragon, and just thinking of them now sent a chill down his spine and tail on a wide sweep.

Scalecasters were perhaps the greatest threat a dragon could face. Insidious, crafty and able to convert kobolds to their whims, they were humans who learned to control just enough magic to fool draconic flesh to bond with their powerless bodies. From there, with a source of magic now part of them, they could exponentially grow in power, gaining dragon-like forms and often getting exiled from human settlements out of fear.

This suited their purposes well; they would find their own lairs, pack them with whatever human rabble they could afford or coerce to their cause, and they would build their power and mastery over magic unimpeded, converting any local kobolds one by one, then attempt to slay a dragon, or even more dangerous, subdue one. Kaja didn't know what would happen, as he'd never heard of any scalecasters that succeeded. Perhaps some drakes across the land were these scalecasters and nobody knew the truth.

Kaja's paranoia and old fears aside, he now felt a new fear, one he'd never felt before. As he exited the tunnel and entered the lair itself, he saw and felt the two dragons within.

Firaegin was even more magnificent than he remembered. Larger, huge even, compared to Jaraesi, who Kaja knew was a little bigger than he had been as Karajan. The green dragon was literally twice her size and, knowing Jaraesi was a brutish sort with a powerful physique, he made her look lithe.

Firaegin was licking a vicious wound on Jaraesi's shoulder, gentle and tender, as she lay still on Kaja's old hoard. Dragons regenerated from most any injury, especially those with a good number of kobolds bonded with them, but dragon saliva was rich enough with magic that it aided the natural process. Of course it was an intimate act as well, as Kaja could tell from by looking at the longing gaze of Firaegin and the sheer relaxation of Jaraesi, but mostly from the deep jealousy within himself. He wanted to throw up.

Kaja sighed wistfully as he looked at Firaegin. To witness him in all his glory stopped the scarlet kobold in his tracks. A hundred and eighty feet long from nose to tail with deep, thick forest green scales and a dull yellow ochre on his underbelly and other soft patches almost identical to a kobold besides the membranes of his enormous wings. Firaegin's amber eyes were focused, enamoured, watching Jaraesi's slumbering form and his head was surrounded with backward pointed crown of horns, ten in total, with two major furrowed spikes at the top sides of his head.

His pointed and plated beaked muzzle turned towards Kaja. Despite the kobold's revulsion at the slumbering blue dragoness, it was swept away as Firaegin smiled at him. Kaja's heart skip a beat as the dragon made gentle steps over to him, still causing the ground to shudder, and he lowered his head, mere feet away.

“Welcome back, old flame. Might I say that you cut a striking figure as a kobold?" Firaegin whispered. Kaja couldn't help but put his arms around as much of the the drake's muzzle as he could.

“You're even more magnificent than I could have dreamed... master." Kaja couldn't help but use the word. It felt right, both as a kobold and knowing what he did about the dragon that used to be called Figin. “I've truly been blessed by the All-Dragon to be able to see you rise up as such a magnificent drake! I was worried you may be at a loss with your change, but you've already made great strides, I see."

“Indeed. Coping with the instincts has been... interesting," the dragon said, glancing back at Jaraesi. Kaja looked at her, and noticed her uninjured foreleg stroking her belly in lazy circles with a broad smile on her muzzle.

“I guess you've fuck-" Kaja clamped his muzzle shut as Firaegin cocked an eyeridge at him, “...I'd heard that you've claimed her as a mate. I'm sorry, my mind's been in a haze since I awoke. I'm not as clear with my words and I feel slower... cruder, maybe."

“The opposite holds true, old flame. Every book I've read and every memory once a vague recollection I now know with perfect clarity. I cannot say I enjoy this pride, this ego that comes with the form, but it's a useful tool for making me seem like a typical dragon."

“You aren't a typical dragon, Firaegin. you're so much more." Kaja smiled at him, and Firaegin chuckled in a bass rumble before lightly nuzzling him, almost toppling the kobold.

“So, what do I call you now? Or perhaps I should return the favour in naming? Firaegin certainly felt appropriate."

“I've been using Kaja. Which reminds me, I see you've been making orders. Magic ones."

“A necessary step, I fear. When the others found you, some of the the Crater-Vale kobolds correctly guessed who we were. I wouldn't have minded, but I'm ashamed to admit that my... uprising against you before your change of heart had taken hold. They wished you harm, so I had to intervene, as well as cover my own identity to reinforce the command. To anyone who asks, you are of Hoar-Frost's number, as Jaraesi did not know her kobolds well and even their leaders didn't question others simply turning up and joining. I plan to show Jaraesi the error in mistreating her followers."

“Hmm?" Jaraesi's smooth voice echoed through the lair as Firaegin turned his long neck to look behind him. “Did you call me? What is it, blessed mate?"

“Ah, Jaraesi, are you feeling better?" The green dragon walked back and lay beside his mate, unfurling a wing to cover her side.

“Much, my dear, thanks to your gracious attentions." Her sky blue eyes locked onto Kaja's yellow own and he felt the urge to flee. “And who is this subject to interrupt my slumber?"

“I would like for you to meet Kaja, my precious one. He is to be the new Underboss."

Kaja's eyes felt like they were trying to escape his skull and his legs grew weak.

“Master, are you sure? I don't think that's a good idea..."

“Underboss or not, fool," Jaraesi snarled, “do not question your betters!"

“Calm, Jaraesi." Firaegin stroked the fins of her neck, making her relax. “He has been through much before your admirable attempt at subjugating Crater-Vale. This kobold is brilliant and cunning, but known for his pride and strength of will. Rather like a certain dragoness I know." Firaegin licked her on the cheek, and while she at first purred, it turned into an indignant huff.

“Fine, aggrandise the servants if you will, but the onus of dealing with them is yours. I haven't the stomach, nor patience, for it."

“Very well. Underboss Kaja!" Firaegin's words made the kobold fall to his knees and bow. It felt strange, an act as much an instinct as the words were law. “Let me tell you my plans, so that you may spread my word to the clan and I want you to arrange messengers! I wish to meet with the human leaders and bring them under my rule! I envision a land of kobold, human and dragon at peace and as one unified nation.

“I'm going to build an empire."

* * * *

1st Season, 1568

'We live in interesting times, of that there can be no doubt. Ever since the Great Dragon Firaegin began its 'harassment' of our villages, towns and the grand capitol of Marfield, many questions were asked, defences bolstered like the raiding wyrms of old, as in the stories our parents and grandparents would spin. Yet unlike the meek, paranoid sky-gazing and water-hoarding of the past, this great 'tyrant', as he's been called, couldn't be further from these old-wives tales and knee-jerk reactions.

'Indeed. Should we be rousing a mob with spears and pitchforks in hand to try and slay our scaled overseers? Should we be ignoring their demands, praying for a hero to come to our aid in our desperate times of need when such a creature last deemed to control us simple folk? Were this a week within our first meeting with the beast, I would have likely concurred.

'Yet I sit here, supping a finer vintage than I've seen the nobility drink, eating a foreign spiced and meat-heavy dish I can scarcely pronounce, with fare the likes of salted porridge and dry bread a distant memory. The common man walks the streets gaily, lackadaisical and unafraid anything as vile as bandits and robbers and all the way down to petty concerns of water seeping into his boots, with new pairs and spares prevalent, affordable and available. No, my fellow citizens, fear holds no sway in this new age as coin flows in obscene amounts, so much that even the upper crust of society struggle to find more frivolities on which to waste it.

'The diminished King Goshev III is still able to pass judgement on his subjects, despite his resignation to our greater still scaled ruler, but we simply have a distant overseer of whom only steps in when necessary. It seems the day to day trials and tribulations of the common-folk is, in so many ways both metaphoric and literal, beneath the gaze of the emperor. I suppose the nature of avarice is still high on the Draconic agenda. The taxes we pay are great, but once more I must stress, I've yet to see a single citizen worse off.

'One could theoretically complain about being forced into this, of course. Tales spun in the dark corners of taverns speak volumes to the bullying, fiery eyed glare of our draconic ruler; gloating, firm threats of decimation or worse. More than one crater sized hand or claw-print in the fringes of our towns prove the vast dragon has threatened harm even while attempting to broker a peaceful settlement, slamming and roaring as a beast would, and yet few can prove any harm rendered.

'More curiously, though, are the rumblings and rumours that those who have had a face to face talk with our Emperor in recent months have met a far more measured, reasoned or, dare I say, charming approach. Perhaps, as control is instilled in the populace, the need for sword-tip, or claw-tip in this case, diplomacy has waned.

'THIS Chronicler, though, would suggest that wherever this Dragon emerged from, surpassing all others, may have been suffering from the bane of many upstart conqueror that hasn't cooled their blazing trail, the thing that has seen them fall time and time again in history.

'Firaegin, the One Emperor was suffering a 'power high'. It's gratifying to know even beings beyond our scope are vulnerable to mortal foibles. If this is what new age tyranny consists of, I for one hope he has indeed calmed; for all our sakes.'

Penned by Giuseppe Valdacci of The Marfield Chronicle.

Kaja finished reading the news sheet with a broad grin. Everything he had hoped for when he passed his flame on to Figin had come to fruition. No, more than that; humans were beginning to accept Firaegin's rule, willing and compliant, and even if much of the mystery of his origins was leading to all sorts of speculation, the humans with real power were the ones in support. Firaegin may have suffered from what they branded as a 'power high', although Kaja knew this was just the emperor learning to control his new instincts, and Firaegin had almost complete control.

Kaja looked up at the flittering banners with warmth in his heart and sheer pride. Newly weaved from silk, the form of the mighty green dragon emblazoned on each, holding aloft a castle in one hand and a smaller blue drake at his side. He wished he could say it hurt to hear about the burning of most of Karajan's banners, but it just didn't matter any more. Every third set of rungs held the new flag of the empire, a solid forest green of Firaegin's scales with draconic embroidered on the top right corner; By Tooth and Claw, One Nation. A nearby snivelling and clearing of a throat broke Kaja's musings.

“A-are you sure this is enough protection, good sir?" The human looked at Kaja while gesturing to a squad of six kobolds, each covered head to toe in ceremonial armour and holding finely crafted spears with pristine, razor sharp steel tips and a miniature flag as a banner. The overcaver mopped his brow with an already soaked handkerchief and the underboss was reminded of why surfacers disgusted him, besides their self serving personalities and mercenary attitudes; they were dirty, spilling all sorts of bizarre fluids at a moments notice if the weather changed or someone looked at them a certain way. Kaja formed a response on overcommon, glad for his knowledge of the human language was mostly intact from his days as a dragon, but he still needed a moment to gather the words.

“You'll be fine, Sir Bonasi. You're going into a meeting with the two strongest dragons in Goshev as mediators." Kaja at least had an advantage over most kobolds as he still remembered some details about humans and had dealt with them before, and Sir Bonasi was not pleasant to look at in any respect. He was a portly fellow with a long, black moustache and balding head but covered by a garishly coloured and feather plumed hat. The cold weather outside had him dressed in thick clothes, but inside with the braziers and his cowardice as partners, he was pouring with sweat.

“But have you dealt with Naebas? A drake so foul that a mere shout can kill a man!?" Bonasi paced about near his retinue of armoured soldiers, darting between them as if trying to find one to hide behind.

“And this is your first time dealing with Emperor Firaegin," the underboss sneered, “a drake so powerful he could kill a dragon by slapping them in anger. If Naebas, Lord of the Endless Plains, steps out of line then I can assure you that you will be protected. You're guests of His Grace, and no harm will befall you."

A ringing of a gong sounded from the corridor, causing the kobold escort to snap to attention and form around Sir Bonasi and his bodyguards, two on each side and one in front and back. Vusha lead them, although as the clan's martial instructor rather than warchief; her mounting injuries and age gave her a good reason to step down, leaving the position empty. With a tap of her spear on the floor, the kobolds herded the humans through into Firaegin's lair, and Kaja at last able to resume his duties.

The everyday work of an underboss was wandering the hub and awaiting kobolds to present issues and questions to rectify. It had been expanded since Kaja's rebirth as a kobold; the two hundred foot long hall, once too large for the broken clan, had been expanded to a full two thousand feet in length while retaining the sixty foot wide spacing and had kobolds moving about at most hours. Corridors lined both sides all the way down, and a second tier was being added with further expansion already in talks. Firaegin's lair was still in the same spot as it always been, near the front entrance, but the underboss' room had been broken down and moved to the far end of the hall; a common clan design to ensure a higher chance of kobolds having a leader nearby in case of a collapse. There were already plans for all section heads to be posted in the middle for greater leader coverage.

Kaja was displeased about being positioned near the first Great Work, a task that had almost all kobolds working at one task instead of the usual assignments. The Great Tunnel had been carved in a scant few months, a well engineered passage leading to Jaraesi's lair forty miles away, beneath the coastal town of Whiteshore-on-Cliff. Kaja had endured a few weeks of sleepless nights, but grew used to the sound over time, as the cave entrance was near his new quarters and the miners were loud and boisterous, often singing on their way to and from their work.

At least it was all but over, with some additional bracing and smoothing taking place. Although Kaja was glad to see all the extra kobolds being sent back to what he considered more important work, Firaegin had been very insistent about checking the tunnel and now, Hoar-Frost and Crater-Vale's clan grounds were joined by a tunnel network. The next step was developing a cart system for hauling goods through it.

This was being impeded by cave spiders, known to kobolds as crag-biters. These massive spiders, as tall as a kobold and many times wider, were rife along the Great Tunnel as they converge on locations with a lot of small vibrations. They were a common problem to miners if they were out of synchronisation, and one of the reasons they used songs to make and keep a tempo; the heavy vibrations would scare crag-biters away, believed to trick the spiders that it was a dragon moving.

Patrols had been ongoing for some time and any holes were being plugged until traps could be placed so they could use fewer soldiers. This reminded Kaja of his master's biggest concern; Scout Lalep. He had been missing for three days after vanishing without a trace in the great tunnel whilst on patrol. It had to be crag-biters; they would ensnare a kobold and drag them to their lairs and eaten or stored for later and a single cave collapse could have covered its tracks.

Kaja could feel how torn up Firaegin was on the inside, but the emperor didn't want to appear to show favouritism or overt affection to any individual, but when the dragonlord was a kobold, Kaja guessed it was akin to a surfacer's parental relationship. Kobolds had close bonds with siblings, but parents weren't anything more than experienced kobolds, with the exception of Vusha and her son, Tuha. In truth, Kaja only cared because Firaegin did, as losses were inevitable.

The underboss was bored of wandering, as everyone was busy with the expansion of Crater-Vale, so he returned to the lair entrance. His timing was impeccable, as the humans had just emerged from the lair, with Sir Bonasi looking at ease. The human bared his teeth at Kaja, the human version of a smile.

“You were quite right, master kobold!" Bonasi said, fanning himself with his hat. “His Lordship Firaegin ruled in our favour, albeit with a few concessions that were more than fair. I even felt sorry for Naebas... somewhat."

“You see? Emperor Firaegin is both mighty and wise. He has everyone in mind, unlike most any other dragon."

“Well, not that this visit hasn't been enlightening, good sir, but I have a missive to deliver from Emperor Firaegin to the people of Goshev... goodness, just think, perhaps one day the whole of Vliechov! Long may Emperor Firaegin reign!" The human clasped a hand to his chest.

“All glory to His Mightiness!" Kaja couldn't help but shout the words.

With the human dignitaries leaving Crater-Vale, Kaja started towards the lair, but slowed when he heard the Emperor and his mate talking.

“Perhaps I can assuage your worries?" Jaraesi purred, “a little tenderness and a little force, as you so love to apply in all things, my emperor?"

The sound of draconic moans and growls made Kaja turn back and leave; the last thing he needed was to witness their coupling and drag his mood down. Firaegin now had a lineage, and Kaja was truly happy for him, but his heart still ached. The only solution was to bury himself in more work, so he once more wandered the hub, once more moving towards the great tunnel and contemplating the next great work for the clan to undertake.

“Underboss Kaja." A gruff voice made him turn, met by the largest kobold of the clan; Sergeant Tuha. Vusha's son was by far the best fighter he knew, a claim that was proven time and time again from many a pretender of Hoar-Frost's number as well as any visitors from the other clans. Nearly four feet tall, charcoal scales and dark purple eyes and a heavy, chiselled musculature and a true demonstration of kobold might. It was too bad these more useful kobolds were so few.

“Sergeant? What's wrong?"

“I want permission to search for Scout Lalep again, boss." The sergeant said, looking grim.

“We've been up and down the great tunnel several times, plus the mining crews haven't found any sink holes during their inspection. It's also been three days... there's nothing to find." Kaja said, but Tuha growled.

“But I owe it to Figin, boss! Please! It's my fault he went miss-"

“There isn't any fault, Tuha!" Kaja shouted. “Scout Lalep knew the risks when he joined the scouts and you made a sensible judgement call in a bad situation. That's all there is to it and we are not risking further kobolds on this. Get back to your duties and stop wasting my time."

Tuha grumbled under his breath and stormed off. Kaja turned, only to all but bump into another large soldier; Casai. Kaja yelped as he stepped back.

“All-Dragon's blood! Don't sneak up on me like that!" The underboss took a deep breath. “Private Casai, what's... what is it?"

The soldier, despite her impressive and intimidating size, fiddled with her fingers, coiled her tail around her calf and struggled to hold eye-contact.

“Underboss, I was just wondering... since we've been getting overcaver visitors, I'm worried about if they tried to hurt you and or kidnap you so I was wondering if... um... I could stay by you... and..."

Kaja's eyeridge twitched as the soldier continued to fumble over her words. He tried to demonstrate his growing patience, but it ran out after Casai cleared her throat for a third time.

The scarlet kobold opened his mouth to respond, only for both of them to get startled by a pale blur passing beside them with the sound of high, ragged breathing.

“What in drake's piss... wait." Kaja focused on the sight as it moved at a rapid pace towards Firaegin's lair. A short yellow kobold, wearing a crude belt and equally simple sword sheathed in it, holding what looked like a white kobold slumped in his arms.

“Lalep? LALEP!! Stop right there!!"

Lalep turned around, back-peddling about as quickly as some kobolds could jog. His eyes were wet from tears but his expression was firm, determined. He was wounded in several places and streaked with darkening blood, both his own and from someone else, judging by the quantity and placement.

“I's can't," Lalep stammered, in his usual chaotic talking style. “Man-kin! Dragony-man-kin! Gotta help Vala! Gotta seeing His Mightiness!" He spun about and bolted. Firaegin allowed kobolds to visit at any time, but arriving after an unexplained absence, with a stranger and interrupting the emperor while mating was a recipe for disaster.

Kaja had no chance catching up to him though, the scout was the fastest runner of the clan and even burdened, he had a considerable head-start. The underboss raised a hand, thumb and index finger extended and a gradual turn his arm as he spoke.

“By All-Father, by All-Dragon, by the fourth of His six, invest unto me the might of His true lineage and suffuse it within this body. His strength able to lift the very sky and shatter the air itself."

Kobold magic flowed through him, restoring a portion of his missing draconic strength. All spells were cast by odd triggers like specific words, thoughts and actions that were unique to each kin. Kaja had lost most of his famed magic as a dragon, but the easier spells such as that of strength and size, part of the reason dragons were larger and unnaturally strong, were the first he managed to learn.

Making himself almost weightless compared to his strength, he began an uneasy sprint after Lalep, having to compensate for the power of his strides. He heard Casai start chasing after them, along with a few other kobolds who began pursuit from nearby.

Kaja outpaced them all and caught up to Lalep thanks only to the scout's burden. The wiry yellow kobold's belt had some give as it bounced with his paces, so Kaja snatched it and tried to pull, making the scout screech.

In the blink of an eye, Lalep stopped dead in his tracks and let Kaja bump into his back as he hoisted the white kobold up, then tucked down himself and slipped free of the sword belt, leaving it to dangle in the underboss' hand. With a deft catch of the white kobold as he stood, the scout darted back towards the lair, leaving Kaja dumbfounded. The former dragon had to stop figure out what had just happened, then snarled, throwing the the belt aside and started in pursuit again as Lalep entered the lair passage.

“Mightiest Firaegin!!" Lalep screamed as Kaja once more closed the distance. Kaja made a desperate dive at the smaller kobold, grabbing him around the waist and tackling him to the floor, causing the white kobold in his hands to fly free, skidding and tumbling across the ground.

Firaegin had thankfully just finished his indulgences as he checked Jaraesi's unconscious form, concerned; not an uncommon result from Kaja's observations as both his absurd size and use of his flexibility magic merged with the empress' clear enjoyment of being dominated, often leading to her being overwhelmed from the act.

Kaja just hoped he had been sated, as the emperor now looked down at them with a short flurry of twitching eyeridges and flickers of teeth as he dissected what was going on, and the underboss felt relief when the dragon looked more curious than angry, especially as he regarded the white kobold. Even so, Kaja felt the need to explain, even as Lalep squirmed and tried to escape his grasp.

“You Grace, I fear Scout Lalep has lost his mind! Please forgive the intrusion!" Kaja overheard several sets of footsteps behind him, but Lalep was undeterred.

“Please's, Mighties Firaegin! Helping's her! Help Vala!" Lalep's tone had changed; far from the haphazard panic of when he first returned, he was in tears. Kaja released Lalep with some reluctance, who crawled over to Vala, cradled and held her with an affection and sorrow that made Kaja feel guilty.

A few other kobolds were watching with interest, including Casai and Tuha, the latter looking relieved towards Lalep, whilst Casai, as usual, was focusing on Kaja. The others were looking at the stranger in their group.

Vala was an unusual kobold, as Kaja had never heard of a pristine white specimen before, although it did seem somewhat familiar, perhaps a faded memory of his previous life but, as usual, his mind wouldn't let him recall. She had smooth grey eyes, almost like unpolished silver, and narrow but typical length horns, about half as long as her head from nose to the short, bony flanges on the back of almost every kobold's head. Most kobolds had a few, normally no more than ten but she had sixteen.

“You'd better explain right now, Scout Lalep! Who is she, and what makes her so important that it allows you to enter Our Great Emperor's lair in such a display of disrespect!?" Kaja folded his arms and tapped a finger against his elbow. Lalep didn't respond, instead he sobbed and clutched Vala's head to his chest.

Firaegin growled and narrowed his eyes at the comatose female, his eyes glowing as he studied her for a moment, then bared his teeth.

“I cannot sense her thoughts... oh, I see. She's been cursed." Firaegin said and ran a hand over his muzzle. “The magic within her has been strung into what humans call a Mind Maze; she's trapped within a prison cell of her own memories, experiences and personality, with pathways and tunnels formed of errant thoughts and sensations, all locked by a singular condition to break. This is beyond my power to just correct or remove.

“Scout Lalep!" The emperor's words snapped Lalep from his weeping. “I will have to solve her maze, but first I must know; it's obvious that you are close, so am I right in assuming you have told her of yourself?"

Lalep nodded. Firaegin closed his eyes for a moment, then sighed.

“Very well. I know of you and your history, my scout, so that gives me some basis on getting started, as every detail I know that she is aware of will give structure. However, you have been missing for three days, and I assume you spoke of this misadventure to her?" Once more, Lalep nodded and Firaegin's eyes glowed. “Then please, my subject, tell us about everything that has happened to you. Spare no details and speak no falsehoods! Everything you have told her is now a part of her struggle, so any omission, however insignificant, could doom her!"

Kaja cleared his throat and spun about, pointing back to the exit of the lair.

“Alright, you!" He pointed to a grey kobold that he knew was a scribe. “Get some writing materials together, I want all of this penned precisely as spoken! Everyone else, back to work!"

“Kaja, let them remain." Firaegin said, settling down onto his belly and crossing his forelegs. “From what I have already sensed from our scout, I want them to hear this."

Firaegin watched Lalep with a gentle smile, whe had calmed but continued cradling Vala, running his fingertips over her face in a tender, gentle caress. Kaja and the others sat down and, after a few minutes, the scribe returned with a thick stack of paper, an ink dispenser designed for use by a whole table of scribes and about half a bird's worth of feather quills perched in her muzzle. Once she set herself ready to write, and with a nod from the emperor, Lalep cleared his throat.

“So three days ago..."

* * *

Kaja's Chamber

“It's all nonsense!" Kaja yelled as he threw his door open and stormed through. “I can't believe Emperor Firaegin believes it, either! It makes no sense!" The underboss' room was a small chamber with a child's cot as a bed and a large, smooth slab of stone fashioned into a table, complete with a wooden stool. The table was littered with papers and books but the scarlet kobold threw a stack of them off in a wave of impotent anger.

The female scribe walked through moments later, clutching a number of leather bound books and many loose pages. Kaja pointed to the cleared space and she put the materials down before stepping back as he looked them over.

“But, boss," she asked, fiddling with her fingers, “why would he lie? Lalep's been through some bad stuff. H-he's got no reason to-"

“Something happened there, Sura, but Lalep killing three humans in combat, even if assisted by this Vala? That's a four kobold job for each human, maybe two if they're of Tuha's experience. And, even more absurd, defeating a scalecaster!? Also, the idea that Vala is some exotic dragon that was somehow kidnapped, with unique magic nobody's ever heard of? No, I'm going to get to the bottom of this, because if the emperor starts putting Lalep in a place of prominence in Crater-Vale or, All-Dragon forbid, gets made Exemplar, then... I dare to think what disaster the runtish bastard could lead us to or how many lives he might lead to their deaths!"

Kaja growled and paced about as Sura looked on, huddling herself and afraid before the scarlet kobold started calming himself.

“Okay, we've got soldiers and scouts scouring the rest lair to deal with the remaining human, but these journals the mining team found from the human compound and both Tuha and Lalep's reports will give us everything we need to make sense of it all. Scribe, sit in my chair."

Kaja gestured for Sura to sit and the grey scaled, green eyed kobold obeyed, looking at the underboss for further instruction. The underboss took a quill, a couple of bottles of ink and a fresh ledger then sat on his bed.

“Alright," he said, “you're familiar with Lalep's version of events. The journals are dated, and starting at Tuha's report, we're going to combine everything together, as they happened, and I will present the facts to the emperor. Start by giving us an overview of everything you have; we need an itinerary for the sources if we want this in a structured order."

Sura nodded and began the painstaking paging through all the materials given while Kaja wrote up a summary of the ledger's purpose; listing a clear mark that this was an investigation into his disappearance. Before he could finish, however, Sura cleared her throat.

“Okay, boss. We have Tuha's report that coincides with Lalep's up until he went missing. We have a few journals from the humans; Lucas, Maurice, Sullivan, Grigori, who all work for Caladar, the scalecaster himself. Each is a little haphazard, I suppose, but all the details seem to be covered; Lalep's capture, what happened there, his escape, how he met Vala, their return to the human compound and what happened there. Some of it's... troubling, but I should be able to piece it together, mostly in the order of events."

“Mostly? Why not in actual order?" Kaja tilted his head.

“Well, Sullivan's got a lot of information about his past, plus his home village, and Caladar's also kept a journal for a long time but much of it isn't relevant. Grigori, Lucas and Maurice only seem to have been writing these things for a few months. It's something about..." Sura opened one of the journals before continuing, “keeping track of the potential mental developments with what Caladar's been doing to his followers."

Kaja ran the quill's plumage over his muzzle, nodding as he thought.

“Right, well, if you're familiar with how it comes together, I'll let you dictate the most valuable opinion, but I want as much from these man-kin as possible; it's Lalep's description of events that I trust the least, so I expect his only where none others will suffice."

Sura nodded, cleared her throat and picked up a sheet of paper and began reading aloud.

“Let's see. 'The task was as planned and approved by Underboss Kaja, Scout-Master Kugu, Foreman Moras and Martial Instructor Vusha, with a team consisting of myself, Sergeant Tuha, with soldiers Dafal, Hobek, Copa and Scout Lalep..."

* * *

Sergeant Tuha's Report

I swear this patrol was doomed from the start.

We were behind schedule already, it took the Hoar-Frost troops twice as long to gear and form up and I wasn't going to let these undisciplined shits make me look like I was incompetent. This was made even worse when Lalep, one of my own clan's kobolds, then decided to take a piss when we were only an hour out of Crater-Vale. I had no problem with picking up the pace, and I know the kid was quick on his feet, but I didn't trust these other three to move with any degree of urgency.

I didn't like Hoar-Frost's lack of real training. Of course I can't speak against Empress Jaraesi's leadership, but whoever their warchief was, I'm going to skin the bastard for raising a bunch of slack-jawed, limp-wristed wall-suckers. I don't care how well protected we are now, or what sort of peaceful coexistence we have with the humans, there's simply no excuse for this fuck-balling around.

“Okies, sorry. All readies, Sergeant." Lalep said quietly.

“Sura, any parts containing Lalep's pidgin insult to draconic, just... translate. Please."

“Oh, okay. Sorry Underboss."

“This is what I get for telling people to report everything..."

“Okay, sorry. All ready, Sergeant."

I gestured for everyone to get back into formation, raising a pointed index finger and drawing circles skyward. Kob-sign was important to not alert the crag-biters; they couldn't hear in the normal sense, but they had these hairy legs that could detect vibrations in the air or through the rock.

To that end, we were all wearing brand new steel plate armour from the overcaver smiths with padded sandals. The alchemists had knocked up a lightly magical grease that masked the sound of the plates moving when smeared into the joints. We were all wielding spears, daggers. Hobek and Coba were also wielding shields; they couldn't stop a crag-biters tunnelling legs, those bastards strike like a miners pick in a dragon's hands, but they could stop them from having a chance to swing, so those two were to rush the biter and pin the legs while the others stabbed the exposed head. Nobody was getting killed on my watch.

With everyone back in formation, I gestured for everyone to move at triple time by extending all three fingers and waving them side to side twice at shoulder height. It felt good to be on the move again. I'm not afraid of crag-biters, but we were a long way away from backup and I can't stress how much I didn't trust the Hoar-Frost crew.

I hate to admit it, but I didn't trust Lalep much more. He passed scout training, and he'd been solid on drills and sparring. No, not just solid, he could outclass any soldier or scout in a one on one fight, but so could I when I was his age, yet my first time out in the field I got my arse handed to me on a platter by a kobold half my damn size.

I tried to keep my eyes forward, but I kept looking behind me out of paranoia. To their credit, the soldiers at least had the decency to try and act professional when I looked over my shoulder. Lalep, however, was looking down at his feet, troubled or scared; anything besides keeping an eye out for biters. I had to set an example.

I raised my fist and everyone stopped as ordered. Except Lalep, of course, who walked into Dafal's back. I stormed up to him and smacked him on the helmet.

“The fuck are you doing, private!?" I yelled and winced. I was letting my anger get the best of me and it made me well aware of why I wasn't ready for the warchief position.

Lalep adjusted his helmet and somehow managed to look even more vulnerable. I sighed and calmed myself; Kugu couldn't get through to him by being forceful, so I took Figin's approach.

“I keep hearing about this Figin. Who is he?"

“Crater-Vale's previous Underboss, scribe. A well respected one, but he's no longer here. Now focus."

“Lalep, talk to me. What's wrong?"

The effect was immediate; Lalep looked less tense and cleared his throat.

“Um... it's my first time in the mating halls tomorrow and I'm scared the females are gonna make fun of me for being so small..."

The snickering behind me got my blood hot again.

“What's there to be scared of? They'll present and all you've gotta do is jam your prick in." Dafal. Of course it was Dafal; he had more stone in his head than iron, and that's putting it lightly. I turned in time to see him mounting his spear shaft and thrusting. I stared at him and he cut out the shit double quick. I needed to defuse this nonsense so we could get back to work, so I figured I'd keep trying to bring Lalep up rather than push him down.

“Lalep, nobody's going to give you any shit if you go into those mating halls with your shoulders straight and head high. You've gotta be proud of what you've got, because every kobold's got their strengths and weaknesses. Yeah, you're small, but you're quick and cunning. Dafal's got a big fucking mouth on him, and less intelligence than the shell he hatched from..."

“Hey!" He whined.

“... but he's brave and tough. You'll get there, kid, you just need experience." I watched him perk up and figuring we'd already lost enough time, I moved back to the front. “Alright, let's get back on track. If anyone else laughs, they're getting a week of latrine duty and I'll jam my prick in'em!"

Dafal and Hobek snickered.

“Thanks for volunteering. I think I'll throw 'shroom garden mucking as well!"

“Fuck..." Hobek mumbled.

“What was that?" I sneered at him.

“Yes, Sarge!"

I gestured for silence, a clenched fist moved from the side of my jaw off to the side, then once more gestured for triple time marching.

A few more miles went smoothly, just the patter of our soft sandals on the stone and the hushed groan of the grease on metal of our armour. The tunnels were monotonous, but we could mark our distance by the buckets placed every hundred feet; caulcement, a brilliant little alchemical creation that looked and felt like wet sand until you dumped it on stone, where the grains thickened up and hardened into a sticky, glue like mass. It wouldn't stop a biter making a new hole elsewhere, but we'd mark the spot and report it to the mining and building crews for a proper patch up.

Coincidentally, that was when we saw a crag-biter; it was facing away, spinning one of its webs. Big bastard, at that, but we had the jump on it. I got everyone to line up, spears ready to stab it in the arse; it wouldn't kill it, not by a long shot, but we didn't need to. We just needed to make it flee to whatever hole it had made and plug it.

We moved in nice and slow, I gestured to attack with a point of two fingers, and we all stabbed it at the same time, as drilled. The thing screeched and bolted, and we pursued it right back to one of its holes, just about big enough for a kobold of my size to fit through; their bodies were about as wide as us, just longer and obviously those legs made them look bigger as well.

I then realised that we were right in between two buckets. I had to make a call, and as much as I knew Lalep was faster, I worried he'd slip or drop the caulcement.

“Lalep, right, Dafal, left! First one back gets my ale ration! MOVE!"

* * *

Kaja's Chamber

“... Dafal returned, but Lalep did not." Sura continued. “We checked the area after we plugged the hole and found only loose stone piled all over where we last saw him, but there were a number of places like that. We couldn't even find the caulcement. I immediately sent Copa back to report and get reinforcements, but I'm sad to say that we couldn't find anything of Lalep. I subject myself to whatever punishment you deem fit for my lacking command." The scribe finished reading and Kaja gently blew on the page to help the ink dry in his ledger.

“Did... did you punish Sergeant Tuha?"

“No, I saw nothing wrong with his order. It was a bad situation, and even if we had lost Lalep, we wouldn't have penalised the sergeant." Kaja stared at the ceiling for a moment. “Okay, we have similar reports from the others on that patrol, so we know that's as watertight it can be. Lalep fell down a sink hole that filled in from surrounding loose material. Likely a temporary crag-biter tunnel. Sura, could you read Lalep's account from Tuha's order up until the portal?"

“Yes, boss, let me just find the part... ah, here we go."

* * *

Lalep's Tale

“Lalep, right, Dafal, left! First one back gets my ale ration! MOVE!" Tuha yelled.

I knew I was quicker than Dafal, and I wanted to make up for making the sarge mad earlier, so I ran as fast as I could. I was at that bucket in seconds and skidding to a stop, I grabbed the bucket by the handle. The second I tried to start running back, the whole floor gave way!

I dropped my spear and tried to grab any hard rock, but it was all just tumbling stone, dust, earth and gravel down a sort of chute or sloped tunnel. I was battered and bashed, though that fancy new armour took the worst of it, but all I could see was spinning. I remember my helmet got damaged and blocked my view at some point, because when I finally stopped tumbling, I had to pry it off.

The first thing I noticed was the presence of light, although only a little of it was coming around the corner of this 'L' shaped hall I was now in, turning left ahead. The walls were made of dark grey bricks, although many were cracked and broken and covered in moss. I could smell something too; something sweet, smoky and a bit like burned herbs. I creeped up to the corner and peered around it and saw a big stone circle, up on its side, like a wheel with no spokes, and a watery rippling in the middle that was making the light.

I stared at it for a while, but suddenly heard a rumble and I felt something strike the back of my leg. I realised the hole I'd fallen through started collapsing again! I figured that I would certainly die in that room or maybe die in that circle.

I dashed and leapt, and got through the portal.

* * *

Kaja's Chamber

“That was bold of him!" Sura chirped and turned to Kaja, who pinched the top of his muzzle and sighed.

“Reckless, scribe. Reckless is the word you're looking for. If the rest of the chamber had remained for that long, I doubt the whole chamber would have collapsed. Right, I assume we human account of what happened next, because I seem to recall Lalep panicked and didn't really notice too many details during his initial escape attempt."

Sura paged through a couple of the journals for a few moments, before settling on one.

“Yes! A human called... Lucas wrote about it, as well as a lot of other things about the scalecaster and their group. It's a while before it gets to Lalep, though."

“That's fine, it should give some context as to why they wouldn't lie about what happened." Kaja nodded and turned to a fresh page, dipping his quill. “When you're ready"

“Ugh, man-kin dates... uh, Phoebesday, 22nd of Drake's Rest... 'I swear I'm going to lose my mind and..."

* * *

Lucas' Journal

I'm starting to think all this poxing shit isn't worth it. Caladar is a soulless arsehole (and I don't care if you read this, because you are), Sullivan is painful to be around, always angry at something. Maurice is a headcase, a wannabe dragon-fucker and never shuts up about it and Grigori's just being himself, which is somehow worse, like everything's normal and we're not in a bad situation with three lunatics.

Five men all stuck in a cave network and the only way out is using portals that almost all lead to places where we'll be arrested on sight. The only female company is the dragon, so of course you've got Maurice constantly begging to go to a bloodletting, alone, and Sullivan with that grudge against her. It's a wonder they haven't come to more than blows.

All I know is I'm starting to come around to Maurice's way of thinking, because going for 'relief' in the caves isn't even an option any more; drakes-mould has been seen growing in there because of the prisoner and Caladar says it's an important material for keeping kobolds alive and healthier for longer, so taking a lantern into the caves is forbidden since it makes that stuff burn and degrade and he's worried we'll 'contaminate' it. We can see in the dark, yet nobody but Maurice is comfortable with it, claims it makes him 'closer' to her. Everyone else prefers the light, even Caladar.

On the note of the boss, he's once again nagging at me to keep at this journal; something about how mental changes are a potential side-effect of the doping. I've been fine so far, getting stronger every day, but the lack of kobolds to bleed for the dope is getting worrying.

“Put the journal down and eat, Lucas," Grigori said. He was the eldest of us from the north east, away from Goshev. Typical native Vliechoven with tan skin, long nose, bushy black eyebrows and hair besides the greying temples; the rest of us were Goshevi. I'd finished writing anyway, so I turned back to the tepid oatmeal in front of me. Dry provisions were in good supply and stored well, but everyone was missing fresh food. I listened to make sure Caladar wasn't nearby before turning back to everyone in the mess.

“I can't be the only one who's starting to have doubts, right?" I whispered. The clatter and splat of spoons rung as everyone waited to see who would respond first.

“We've been over this; it's too late for doubts," Grigori replied. “We're all wanted men. We either get what was promised and strong arm a way to Bralran or get sent to the so-called emperor for execution."

“Besides, Caladar says he's getting real close to perfecting the dope." Maurice grinned like a loon, as always. He looked and acted like someone half his age, all the way down to the rosy cheeks and a mop of curly hair.

“Won't be long before we can have our own little cabal of kobolds, eh? Ascended humans without having to look like dragons, although I wouldn't have minded if we did."

Sullivan stared daggers into Maurice, then looked at me. He was always intense, let alone when any sort of kinship with dragons was concerned. The blue eyed man ran a hand over his shaved head.

“I don't like it either, Lucas, but like Grigori says, we're in it until the end. We either end up superhuman so we can fight our way and take over a ship, or we're all liable to get paraded up to Firaegin along with Caladar and executed. Even then, we likely don't have a choice; we're all Caladar's got."

I regretted bringing it up and continued eating. As bad as everyone said it was, the reality was even worse; Grigori was a dragonhunter and I was in training when Firaegin landed on Goshev castle and laid claim to the kingdom. Not by force, either, at least not fully, but something far worse and insidious; diplomacy. Within a week, our profession was made illegal and punishable by death unless we submitted ourselves to the authorities.

Authorities that were now in the pocket of the dragons like Naebas, a monster that would poison villages for fun, that would breathe clouds of noxious breath at farms needed to keep people fed. A drake that we'd wounded before on a hunt and would no doubt find a way to indulge in his true nature if he caught wind of us being caught before Firaegin's cronies got hold of us.

Being that desperate, Caladar just knew exactly what to say; we fell to his every word.

'Come with me and you shall become men without peer,' he said. His words like flowing silver. 'Men capable of besting dragons. All I ask is your patience, your loyalty and your sword arm.'

I should have known it was too easy, I just couldn't resist him. None of us could. It was becoming obvious Sullivan was right; this dragon he was feeding from had given him some sort of power over us. Caladar had been at it for forty years, the same length of time Sullivan had been working for him.

I'd had enough of both the past and present. I pushed the bowl of oatmeal away from me and walked out and around to the main lab, a room festooned with glassware, alchemical apparatus and a creepy jarred kobold that had been bled last week. Caladar never told us what it was there for, and I dared not press for details.

I produced a simple pipe and a small bag of mixed tobacco and peered inside; probably enough for three doses if I rationed them. I pinched a small amount and began packing it into the bowl.

“I hope you aren't planning to light that up in here, Lucas. Not this close to the apparatus." That smooth voice sent a shiver up my spine. Any thoughts of telling him to piss off were washed away by the silver in my ears again.

“Of course not, Caladar. Just preparing the pipe for later." I said and turned around. The red robed man walked from his corridor and I watched him out of fear. He was a tall man, gangly with white, stringy hair; not for his age, but his condition.

He was a scalecaster. A mage who had bent his study of magic into coercing draconic flesh to meld with him. Each was apparently different, although I'd never seen any others, but his changes was pretty damn obvious.

Caladar had embedded the smaller horns and eyes of a baby red dragon and some of the connective bone and flesh into his own skull, and I dare to think how without killing himself. From there, he'd been imbibing blood from the current dragon and making his condition stronger. The red scales around the horns were a mottled set of spots now surrounded by alabaster ones, but his red slitted eyes were still the same, according to Sully. The scales ran down his neck with a few on his hands, and his nails were always long and blackened, hard and sharp enough to cut kobold scale.

He looked at the preserved kobold, sitting in a vat of formaldehyde, thinking of something beyond my understanding, no doubt. I didn't know where the human finished and the dragon began, but I knew that as much as I wanted the power, I didn't want to look like a freak and I couldn't imagine how having a draconic mind might change things. They were impossibly perceptive, they remembered things from decades or centuries ago with perfect recall and could read a person's thoughts, or at least could sense things about them that made it seem like they could.

It was no wonder most other lands had done away with dragons, but Vliechov was still rich with them. The only one with traces was Ardentiphe, and even their dragons seemed to vanish a few decades ago. Of course the fact this continent was being taken over by them just proves what happens when you leave them to thrive and they muster behind a freak like the emperor.

I was depressed just thinking about it and waited until Caladar wasn't looking then walked through to the transportation chamber. A big, circular room with a number of portals and a single plinth in the middle and a drawer. From within I took a solid crystal made from dragon-blood and placed it to the plinth nearest the portal directly ahead; a portal that leads to an old ruin.

The others were once used for our resource gathering; a city that hadn't located the transportation circle, the others we once used for engaging in banditry for supplies, but more and more of them were being covered by drake-protected roads, which was why the situation was getting dire; we now had no free access out of the compound except that one city, and we had to make sure we were ready when we all went through it because they still deemed us criminals through association with Caladar.

The middle of the stone circle sputtered and a spark appeared, then it popped softly and spread out like a rippling pool. I once more checked behind me, and walked through.

The chamber beyond was apparently part of an old kobold clan's grounds but it had long since been stripped of anything of use, but it made a great place to smoke without having to walk for half an hour into the caves. Here, in a literal sense, my troubles were miles away, with only the mossy walls and an old, collapsed ramp besides the portal back. I sat on the raised stones on the side of the portal, took out my naphtha wick lighter, and flicked my thumb over the small mechanical striker until it took. I was actually giddy as I gently puffed on the bit as the tobacco charred and I ran the flaming wick around the bowl, the contents eventually taking.

Every pull of my pipe made my nerves less frayed, and every exhale took with it all my problems. I let the minutes drift away in the sweet smoke.

“Caladar's gonna kill ya!"

I dropped my pipe with a clatter and the last few embers scattered across the floor. I grabbed my sword in a panic before I realised who it was. Maurice was standing beside the portal, grinning.

“He can smell it through the portal. Told me to get you back." He snickered.

“Oh, piss off, mop-head," I growled and went to collect my pipe before the childish idiot snatched it and ran back through. I moved in pursuit, and I swore I heard a rumbling noise behind me as I passed through the portal and rushed after Maurice, but I didn't want to get in more trouble. He skidded around the corner of the main lab and I moved to follow. Of fucking course Caladar emerged again with a scowl.

“ No running in the lab!" His voice was a red hot poker in my head. I stumbled and stopped, gasping and he didn't relent. “ Disengage the portal."

I turned about and entered the portal chamber again, only to see several rocks tumble through.

“The poxin' fuck?"

I approached and removed the crystal, returning it to its drawer, and looked at the portal as it closed, then the cracked and broken masonry that had fallen through. I must have caused a collapse somehow.

“Fan-fucking-tastic. He's really gonna have my arse for this."

Then, I saw something; just at the edge of the circle. A small bony spike, like a horn. I slowly approached, hand on sword and reached for it. I only noticed at the last moment it was trembling.

A squealing screech and the thing raked at my wrist, slashing and tearing. I yelped and released it; a yellow kobold with light purple or dark pink eyes, dressed in damaged steel plate armour. It moved with absurd speed past me and towards the lab.

“Loose kobold!!" I yelled as the little lizard charged through and I went in pursuit with my sword drawn. I saw Sully and Grigori moving around the central table before I saw the kobold dash through towards the main corridor. It was looking in each of the rooms by the time I actually reached the corridor, but he soon made its way to the exit to the caves, leaping at the door handle and shaking it as hard as he could. Me and Grigori formed up, blocking the way back into the compound, and Caladar emerged behind us.

“New material," the Scalecaster said, “I want it alive."

To its credit, the little runt pulled a thin dagger on me and hopped around like a crazed rabbit and I couldn't help but chuckle at the thing. Maurice and Sullivan appeared to help block the passage so me and Grigori could approach. I moved in but the thing darted at me, around my sword and nearly took a finger with a wild swipe of his dagger.

“Bold little thing, aren't you?" I said, and the kobold gave me a funny look. Grigori ran at it, sword up and the kobold demonstrated some martial training, juking about with its knife braced to receive a strike from above, except the crafty veteran swung his leg, punting the whelp in the head so hard it sent the kobold sprawling against the wall and, as it struggled to stand, Grigori stomped the kobold's head again, knocking it out.

“Grigori, Sullivan." Caladar said, slowly rubbing his hands together. “Check the portal; I want to know if we might have a new source of subjects."

“There was a collapse, boss," I admitted, and the mage looked at me, then the kobold, then back to Grigori.

“Ascertain the state of the collapse then start repairing and clearing, if feasible. Take Sullivan with you. Lucas, Maurice; undress and secure the kobold with the other."

We watched the others move to their tasks, with Caladar moving back to the lab. Maurice looked at the runt with a smirk and I knew where his mind was going already.

“It's male, just so you know," I lied. I couldn't tell through armour. Maurice only looked a little disappointed.

We stripped the kobold of his armour and I was surprised I was correct; it was a male, albeit a small one. I sheathed his dagger and tied the belt to my own. It would make a nice little souvenir or eating utensil. I doubted you could even kill someone with it unless you got it in the neck, maybe the head or eye on a solid thrust, but it was remarkably well crafted; I recognised the smithing mark on the pommel as a royally endorsed smith from Marfield.

I told Maurice to secure the armour in storage so we could break it down for parts. That and I was worried what he'd do with the runt if I turned my back on him. His eyes wandered over the kobolds body when he returned and I sighed.

“You really get your jollies from drake-kin, don't you?" I exclaimed.

“Well..." He grinned and licked his lips. “I dunno, I find dragons better. Maybe I find power attractive? I mean I prefer a female dragon, but they're so close in appearance..."

“You realise we're bleeding this one like the orange one we already have, right? You can worry about having pets when Caladar completes his research, however long that'll take."

“Sure, and we'll be draconic on the inside!" He shrugged as we carried the kobold towards the cells. “I dunno about you, but I'm gonna have myself a little harem."

“Phoebe's tits, Maurice..." I couldn't help but laugh. “Y'know what? Good for you. If that's what makes you happy, whatever. You're gonna have to import'em though if we move to Bralran. Only little non-human folk there are the raothaar unless you go even further afield. They've got bird people and all sorts of weird shit."

“If that's what it takes. I don't even care what gender they are." He grinned again, tongue licking his teeth, and I gulped. “I did some reading through Caladar's anatomy books..."

“Okay, Maurice? Stop."

“Did you know-"

“I'm fucking warning you." I tried to turn my mind elsewhere. I'd rather smack the degenerate but I couldn't risk dropping the kobold as we entered the lab.

“A kobolds arsehole is almost perfectly made for insertion? You get these little guys aroused and it clamps down like the best snatch you've could ask for. The inner walls fill with blood like an inverted type of erection..."

“Good! Fantastic!" I exclaimed with bile, almost the real stuff. I had to drown him out. “Remind me to pour formaldehyde in my fucking ear to see if I can burn that little tidbit of information out of my fucking head! Let the Six have a fucking orgy and invite my granny, Maurice! You're seriously wrong in the head!"

He laughed and had to wipe a little spittle from his chin. I shuddered.

We reached the cells where Caladar was waiting and he opened the door. The snarling teeth of the last kobold inside greeted us through the bars, although he focused on the new blood and stared. The cells were designed for some twenty kobolds, more of a giant dog cage, and the room otherwise had a small amount of dried mushrooms for kobold feed and a few trapping tools, spools of wire and rope.

“ Back." Caladar said, magic on his voice, and the orange kobold retreated after a few moments of struggling. Maurice unlocked the cage and we threw the yellow one inside.

* * *

Kaja's Chamber

“... we locked the cage and moved back to the portal to help the others with the collapsed chamber." The scribe said and turned the page.

“Hold there, Sura," Kaja grumbled. “Okay, so maybe they did have a dragon, but I'd still rather be absolutely certain the white kobold and this dragon they refer to are one and the same. As for what to cover next, I doubt Lalep would lie about the time spent in the cage, and we might as well be thorough. Besides, it sounds like the humans were busy for some time with menial work."

“Oh, sure." Sura placed a small leather tag into the journal and took the bench of papers that represented Lalep's account. She started reading it to find her place, then stopped, looking at Kaja. “Boss?"

Kaja looked at her and tilted his head.

“I still don't understand why you don't trust Lalep."

“Because we kobolds aren't made for grand things. We have a place, a lot in life, and only a scant few exceptions exist. We have some very competent kobolds in Crater-Vale; kobolds like Vusha, Kugu and Tuha, but you try and overpower a human, or outsmart their spymasters, or out fight their generals, and you prove time and time again that as skilled and as talented as we get, we have to stick together or else we lose against the overcavers.

“So the thought that Lalep killed all but one of these humans, that's FOUR humans, one of which is a scalecaster, and with as little assistance as he suggests, is laughable. Not to mention the powers of the dragon he brought in. She could be dangerous"

“So... don't you trust His Mightiness Firaegin?"

Kaja had underestimated this scribe's wit; he chewed on the question, nibbling his lip with his sharp teeth so hard he grazed the unscaled flesh before he found an answer.

“I would do anything for His Grace, scribe, but... he likewise trusts us to advise him, otherwise he wouldn't allow us to hold an audience at most any time to discuss whatever we so choose. I also perhaps fear he believes in us a little too well without evidence, as he's a kindly dragonlord, but if my piecing together of the facts can prevent him from making a mistake like giving Lalep place as the clan's Exemplar, then that means the scout won't be burdened with a position that may lead to a loss of lives, Sura. I'll be saving him from himself.

“Now, as for Lalep's details whilst imprisoned?"

“Oh, okay."

* * *

Lalep's Tale

I couldn't see, not yet, just the presence of light, but I heard voices. Human voices. They were talking about something, one of them was shouting at the other.

“You're seriously wrong in the head!" said the shouter.

A few more footsteps, a door opening. I could see an orange shape ahead, then a cage around him as my focus returned. The grip on me changed and one of the humans moved to the cage door, which was solid metal compared to the combined mesh and metal bars, and opened the lock.

“ Back." Another voice. It sounded like a dragon... or maybe it felt like a dragon would be more accurate. The orange shape moved, and my vision cleared further; it was a kobold! My joy at seeing kin was short lived as I was thrown into the cage and I tumbled over, landing flat on my face; I'd been smacked about by worse, but I was still recovering from the kick and the world still span.

“You okay, kid?" The other kobold leaned down to look at me with dark red eyes. He looked to be in rough shape; cracked and missing orange scales, especially around his arms, but he was sturdy too. A soldier, most likely. He offered a hand and I gleefully took it.

“I think so. Thanks!" I said and couldn't stop myself smiling; I felt a flicker of hope. “I'm Lalep, clan Crater-Vale."

“Moda, clan Red-Lake." He laughed a little, cheerful but his breathing was heavy. “Crater-Vale, eh? I feel like I should bow; I'm in the presence of his Mightiness' own."

“I'm nothing special, Moda. Are you alright? You look like you're hurt." I regretted the question as soon as I saw his expression slump. He moved to sit by the wall, so I joined him.

“They've been taking me out to a blood-caked room and knocking me out. Every time I wake up, I'm less a few scales and feel weaker, light headed... I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Lalep, but I don't think we're getting out of here; not unless your clan knows you're here."

He perked up and looked at me, but he slumped again as he read my expression.

“Damn. Let me level with you, Lalep; there used to be four of us in here, others of my clan they did the same routine they've been doing to me until they just vanish. They took when we were on night overcave patrol; their leader, Caladar's his name, just told us to follow them and we did it, like we were listening to a dragon. Fucking scalecasters."

“What's a scalecaster?" I asked.

“It's a bit more... colourful, but Moda's description's similar to what Lucas said, boss."

“Alright, skip that."

“... they're monsters, and I'm pretty sure the skin-rag fuck's using us to make him more dragonlike. I'm not gonna lie, kid; I doubt we're getting out of here. They don't open the cage without Caladar commanding us to obey and the lock's out of reach. I'm sorry, but..." he trailed off. I was both glad and annoyed, both sparing me the bare-faced facts but also whether I seemed too young to appreciate the situation.

Kugu and Vusha both told me to hold my nerve in times of struggle. Kugu would say it was to stop your enemies from getting a read that your morale's broken and sometimes lead to them making a mistake, and Vusha said so you should go down showing nothing but contempt, to never give your enemy the satisfaction.

I'm not that strong or brave. I started crying hard and buried my head in my arms. All I could think of was how I survived Crater-Vale's worst times and Empress Jaraesi's attack. I managed to become a scout and earn the respect of a lot of the superiors, and how Emperor Firaegin would enjoy listening to me when a lot of other people found me annoying.

All to get caught and tortured, far from home with no way out. I felt some comfort as Moda put a hand on my shoulder.

“If there's one thing I can say about my years as a soldier it's that these thing happen. I know it's not as great as going out in service of the clan, but..." He had to be at a loss on how to put a positive spin on this, but he snapped his fingers after a moment, continuing, “hey, think of it this way; your dragonlord's on the warpath against these freaks. Caladar'll get his eventually."

That didn't cheer me up, but Moda patted me on the head and it felt a little easier to hold back the tears. I felt nostalgic; it reminded me of Figin. I could have really used his advice right now, but remembering him being gone made me feel worse again, so I tried to distract myself.

Clan Red-Lake. I'd heard of them, good allies from beneath the drylands in the valley east of Crater-Vale and ruled by one of the first dragonlords to submit to Firaegin, as well as help the emperor convince a few of the others. Famed for their gold-threaded pottery and the lake from their namesake; a vast underground reservoir filled with clay, giving it more of a murky orange tint, but Red-Lake flowed better on the tongue.

Just knowing this, as well as hearing Moda for all of a few minutes try and cheer me up despite the fact he was the one suffering, made me feel like he's best friend I've ever had. Tuha once told me that struggle builds character, but it also built togetherness. I eventually settled down and just sat in silence. Moda was tired, probably from his wounds and whatever they was doing to him whenever they took him to the bloody room.

I started hearing raised voices from outside, but they were too muffled, so I just stared at the door and stayed quiet.

* * *

Kaja's Chamber

“I assume one of the humans documented the conversation? I'd like more context and clarity than what Lalep heard through a door."

“Oh, yes, we have Maurice's journal!" Sura beamed and Kaja shivered.

“... anyone else's?"

“I mean, sure, but he was one of the people talking. Doesn't get more accurate than that!"

“Tsk, okay. Fine." Kaja dipped his quill and sighed.

* * *

Maurice's Journal

I felt like I was just getting in the way with the rubble removal, so I decided to just do some chores around the compound. Basic maintenance; clearing up after breakfast, sharpening and oiling swords, that sort of thing.

All the while I was resisting the urge to drink the bottle of dragon essence strung on my belt and indulge in the feeling. We'd all been blood doping, Caladar's payment for sticking with him, so we all had a little bit of dragon inside of us. It had done a few things to us; slowed our ageing, made us stronger and let us see in the dark, but at the expense of making us subservient to the boss. It was worth it; anything to get closer to making me like, as well as maybe one day being with, the dragon. All for her.

It's almost shame so many kobolds had to die, but it was a necessary evil; Caladar said kobolds had the right level of magic in them to not overwhelm the human body, and a slow introduction of their blood into us with some other magic dulling materials. It was slow, though, as I'd been with this group for twenty years and I didn't look any older than the day I'd joined, and Sullivan the longest member who looked about forty, as long as he'd worked with Caladar, yet he apparently returned to Crayfield a trained soldier, so he had to be around sixty. He's also the one who lead Caladar to the dragon and take her away. It took me a while to find her again, but when I did, I gladly accepted Caladar's offer to join, even if Sullivan's always objected to me being around.

Which reminded me... I'd always wanted to check his journal. The man hated dragons with an absurd fury, especially her.

“Typical human treachery. Take note, scribe; this is humanity at its most fundamental. "

I headed into the bunk-room and tested his footlocker; he'd left it unlocked because of the kobold panic earlier on, and found so I grabbed the messy looking journal, aged leather with a lot of loose pages stuffed in it. He'd probably been writing in this thing longer than I'd known him.

Far from being just his own writing though, there were a lot of pages from other writers talking about fishing, village life in Crayfield and other boring stuff. A few parts in his handwriting but neater, then about him leaving the village. Then his return, some sappy nonsense about his mother and then tales about St. Valarie living in a nearby cave, offering advice and 'protecting' them. Not bad for a woman that's been dead for six hundred years. They didn't know how blessed they were.

I knew. I always knew.

Dragon magic, imposing her power over everyone. Not too different to what I was planning once I was draconic enough, really. Just no humans, the dragon all to myself, and a few kobolds to serve us.

Still, Caladar caught her thanks to Sully and now she's in her prison in the caves, nice and obedient with a curse. I didn't know how to feel about her being cursed... could she love as she was? I suppose it didn't matter; I'd have her either way.

I sighed and returned my thoughts to the journal when I noticed a page written in flowing handwriting on very nice paper. A poem from a man I once knew as a little boy; Salvatore Farsky, a once household playwright and musician, about the beautiful dragon herself. I read it aloud to test the rhythm.

“Oh Maiden of the Cave, your song doth speak to me,

you make a man feel ten feet tall, yet never shall we be,

as shipmen crash upon the rocks, your voice they all did'st crave,

all would give ourselves to wed the Maiden of the Cave."

“Oh Maiden of the Cave, where have you gone alone?

to have you grace us all once more, the King I would dethrone,

to hear your dreaded song again, which turned knight into knave,

to merely visit your lonely beach, Oh Maiden of the Cave."

“We never saw, but thusly thought, your beauty was divine,

your very voice alone the finest, deepest, sweetest wine,

we know the days when you alone had saved us from the our foes,

protected us of rogues, invaders; spared us from their woes."

“We named you Valarie, the Saint of Wealth and Oceans,

we named you our protector, of threats and flared emotions,

you never spoke, nor never asked, for anything in return,

but when you left we couldn't help but feel that harmful spurn"

“Oh Maiden of the Cave, your song doth speak to me

you left a hole within our souls, the gravest tragedy

we simply cannot carry on, we beg thee to us save

our lives themselves of empty worth, Oh Maiden of the Cave."

“Heh, a bit melodramatic and not his best work, but not bad. I just love the subject." I giggled to myself.

“The fuck are you doing?" Pure venom, vocalised.

I straightened my expression, resisting the urge to grin, I looked to the hall and saw Sully staring, his face red. I kept my calm facade.

“Just taking in some culture, Sully. I don't mean anything by it," I lied.

Sully moved at me and I held out the journal, hoping to defuse the situation, but he swung a hand either to grab me or throw a fist and I wasn't sitting around to find out; I threw the book at him and used the distraction to dart around and get through the door.

I rushed through the lab and towards the boss' corridor; where the cell, the operating room and Caladar's chamber was. Once he heard what was going on, he'd break us up and once again, Sully would be made toothless again.

It wasn't meant to be; I slipped and he had a chance to close the distance, and he crashed into me, slamming me against the wall.

“You listen to me, you cunt!" Sullivan snarled. His breath smelled of oatmeal and I once again struggled not to smirk. “The only reason I haven't gutted you like a kobold is because Caladar'll kick me out and I WILL get my revenge, but rest a-fucking-ssured, you dragon-fucking psychopath, I'll have you licking your entrails off the floor if your obsession doesn't get you killed first. She's MINE!"

“Sticks and stones, Sully. Oh, and don't make promises you can't ke-" I was cut short as he drove his forehead into my face. Blood rushed down my throat and out my nose and I coughed as Sully released me. Sliding to the floor as he stormed off, I then heard a door open, Caladar's room, and I mopped the blood from my mouth, clearing my throat again. I had an opportunity for some fun.

“Oh maiden of the cave, I'm gonna fuck her raw." I snickered, and Sully stopped. “I'm gonna peg her harder than your mother, who's a whore." Good old uncle Salvatore; he did say I had a gift.

“... What in the All-Dragon is wrong with this monster?"

“He's clearly deranged, Scribe. Never mind, just carry on."

The sound of drawn steel against cloth padded scabbard, the glint of metal and the shining point, then the voice I was expecting.

“ Sullivan, stop." Caladar's flat expression, as was the norm, his red, alluring eyes glanced between the two of us.

Sully did as directed, although he was fighting the words.

“C-Caladar... he's..."

“I was just playing with him, boss." I smiled.

The boss scowled at me for a split second. For a moment I thought his face might crack.

“Rise above this childishness, Sullivan. Go and patrol the caves and calm yourself. Maurice; I trust if you have enough energy to act like a child, you wouldn't mind bringing the orange kobold for the final test."

“Sure, boss." I nodded and pulled myself to a stand, holding the wall.

“Any excuse to manhandle a drake, degenerate. You'll get yours." Sullivan spat on the floor and stormed off.

Me and the boss entered the cells, he barked at the two kobolds to stay still. The orange one had some spirit though, managing to remain standing and even yelled back in draconic.

“Lat eraxhe jurak, jur warothka!"

I suspect if it would further his cause, Caladar would fornicate himself. I also supposed he could be likened to a cloaca; he spouted a lot of shit sometimes but was compelling nonetheless.

“Charming." Caladar crouched and whispered, “ come with me." The orange kobold slowly approached as I unlocked the cage. The smaller, yellow one slowly reached out with a hand.

“Du! Du!! Moda!"

Despite the little ones objections, once the orange kobold was out of the cage, I locked it and we headed straight through to the fun room.

* * *

Kaja's Chamber

Kaja finished writing, then looked at the scribe expectantly. Sura was sitting still, eyes on the floor.

“Scribe? What's wrong?"

“C-can we skip this part, Underboss?"

Kaja remembered Lalep's account of Moda's return to the cage. He wanted to be thorough, but even he felt his tail twitch at the thought of what happened to one of their kin at the hands of a scalecaster and a human who, while Kaja had no firm objections to attractions outside of race, the more he heard about this Maurice the more monstrous he seemed. He felt a little solace at what was to come, but even so, he had to make this report as accurate as possible, if only as a warning.

“Alright, Scribe. Pass me Caladar's experiment journal, Lalep's account and lastly Lucas'." Kaja watched the scribe take up the stack of tomes, finding the right ones and sliding a bookmark in each one at the right part. She stammered a little and Kaja could see she was shivering. Normally the scarlet kobold would tell her to get on with it, but he sighed and tried to remember the emperor's example.

“Go and stretch your legs, Scribe, get some water." He brushed the quill against his chin and smiled. “In fact, go and fetch some food and a pitcher of ale for us both, since we still have a long way to go and I'm sure we could do with the refreshment. I'll summon you back in when I've passed the worst of it."

“O-okay, boss!" The scribe hopped to her feet, looking more relaxed already. The grey kobold even sighed with relief as she handed Caladar's worn and stained journal to Kaja, as if it held great weight or power, then the other materials before leaving the room. He found the place she'd kept a thumb in, and began copying the notes within to his ledger.

* * *

Caladar's Experiments

Subject #1,363: Orange scales, red eyes. Soldier caste. Sturdy. Has demonstrated resilience in both attempts to dominate mentally and alter physically. Unsure if method has become flawed or some other factor. Rereading notes has given some insight, or perhaps a degree of nostalgia. I'm reminded of how long I've been at this endeavour.

Ever since locating 'Valarie', the conflict between my original grafting against this dragoness has been an ever-present reminder of the breadth of dragon blood. I'm likewise reminded of my inspiration, the progenitor of the art of drakegrafting, Vincenzo Maltobar; he not only correctly discovered the link between lesser and true drakes, but realised that the inherent lineage between the two, even guessing that true drakes once had forelimbs that ended with what was the equivalent of a cats paw style arrangement, and that selective breeding with lesser drakes yielded the hand-like arrangement enjoyed by the species now.

Of all of his discoveries, however, the ability to fool draconic flesh, so long as it is bereft of any form of necrosis, into not only bonding with a human, let alone induce the same arcane flow as true drakes receive, has created a whole new field of study. That humanity at first distrusted the results, and now that this anomaly called 'Firaegin' has outlawed the practice under penalty of death, is an insult; what of progress? What of gifting magic to the masses? Such greed and contempt is an affront to the progress he believes he champions. I can only hope those that have elected for grafts that are easier to conceal continue the dream of a utopian society; a world where dragon and human live in cohesion, where magic is within reach of all.

I suppose I cannot detest the emperor as at least he has ushered in a change that is in line with my peers, even he shows his true colours by outlawing the practice.

Still, I have nothing but time; my followers continue to help perpetuate my experiments, but they have began to demonstrate flaws with the current method.

The one known as Maurice has become enamoured with a primal instinct for mating and haughtiness that he buries with childish acts. Sullivan, while at first unchanged from his unceasing rage against 'Vala', has seemingly turned an understandable hatred, owing to his emotional connection to the village near where the dragoness chose to settle, into a draconic obsession and confusion.

It's perhaps no surprise that the two dragonhunters, Grigori and Lucas, however, have demonstrated the least changes to their psyche; Grigori is steadfast, as he has been known to be part of at least three successful hunts and no doubt has seen the signs of mental dominance in kobolds; a method he has spoken of involved following a fallen dragon's kobolds flee to another dragonlord, capture them a few days after, and extract information that you simply couldn't derive from a truly subservient drakeling, and Lucas was in training and has been conditioned to keep focus against potential magical influences.

In regards to 'Valarie'; it is clear that the colloquially named 'siren' dragon and the Vliechovian Greater Drake are cousins, much like all greater drakes are to the 'kobold' lesser drake, but owing to their strong and isolationistic bloodline, they have many differences; the lack of wings, the inefficient enhancement of their strength despite being of a similar height and length, but is drastically more lithe, the slower generation of magical discoveries, yet an astounding resonance to the 'vocalisation' power all true drakes possess.

Since I began imbibing the siren's blood, my own ability to manipulate my cohorts has amplified drastically, but I still lack the focused tone that sirens benefit from, as both my followers and the lesser drake subjects have shown the ability to resist more complex direction.

Perhaps in time I will adopt the abilities of a true siren drake, but for now I must resume my research into amplifying kobold blood, making it more akin to true Vliechovian drake blood to strengthen my control over magic. Just as a dragon can be slain by men like Grigori, I am far from invulnerable; I need potent allies to protect me.

To that end, with subject #1,363, I have created a living piece of draconic flesh that should pair well with his lesser drake blood. I have attuned the mass with subject #1,363's own particular 'aura' via resonance fork and a gradual 'thinning' of the magic in the mass. With luck, today I will create a hybrid that will both assist in a non-graft bond and amplify the blood doping I have subjected my cohorts to.

Subject #1,363 was incapacitated, and after the routine bleed with Maurice's help (note; admonish his choice of grip position; it's unnecessary), I have forced the subject to swallow the mass. He has been placed back in the cell to be observed...

* * *

Kaja's Chamber

The door opened, followed by a burdened Sura entering, bearing a tray piled with meats and baked goods, a pair of pitchers, mugs and cleaning cloths. Kaja gently rested his ledger on his bed, letting the ink dry as he made space for the tray. The pair ate quietly, although Sura did move over to ledger and glanced through what he'd last written.

Her expression said it before she spoke through clenched teeth.

“I'm glad he's dead... what a monster."

“It's exactly why Emperor Firaegin outlawed their kind, scribe." Kaja said, sighing as he chewed on some rare, salty beef; kobolds preferred the texture of overcooked meats yet the flavour of raw, but he couldn't help but feel nostalgic for the taste of live horse; one of how most frequent, if not necessarily his favourite, meal as a dragon.

He'd flick the creature up in the air and spit flame on it, burning the hair and charring the skin, then catching it again with his mouth; breath hot enough to instantly kill a human and to turn sand into glass in his prime and focusing his magic, but a casual puff was sufficient. It was strange, he missed the simple joys it afforded him, but he did not miss the power itself. He didn't deserve it.

Yet here they were, discussing a human craving power, despite his allusions to a utopian society; Firaegin's way worked, be it by gentle force or potent diplomacy, but scalecasters had to murder or torture drake-kin for their ends. Kaja sighed and wiped his hands before settling in to write.

“I'll try and get through this next part while you eat, scribe." Kaja watched as Sura collected a few portions of food and left the chamber again.

He didn't trust much of Lalep's account, but Caladar and Lucas' journal entries on the same time... the underboss took a moment to reflect, then resumed writing.

* * *

Lalep's Tale

I thought they'd taken Moda away for the last time, like he said his friends had. I was so happy when he was brought in, even if he was in obvious pain. Once more, Caladar shouted me into laying flat on my belly and they tossed my kin into the cage. Strange that this time, though, they left the door open beyond.

As soon as I could, I crawled to Moda, who was retching and coughing.

“Moda! Are you alright?" I pleaded and supported his head. He looked at me with an unfocused gaze, as if he was drunk or poisoned.

“Th-they forced me to swallow... something." Moda rasped.

I helped move him near a wall, because I always felt more comfortable with a stone surface near me. I wanted to help, but I couldn't; I no field poultice, I wasn't trained in medicine, I didn't even know what he'd swallowed. I was panicking, but my mind span; I figured it couldn't be poison, because that would make no sense, and after what Moda had told me about this Caladar, I could only hope it was something he'd pass, which was always a worry for us kobolds since we digest so much of what we eat, so much so that eating harmful substances was one of the most common ways of dying outside of combat.

Once Moda was in a more comfortable position, I tried to give him space. He looked at me and offered a weak smile.

“Thanks, kid. I'll be fine, I just need some rest I think. I hope."

I was close to tears again, but I kept a brave face for Moda. Once again, just having another kobold in the same room made me feel a lot better. I was being selfish again, since he was suffering, yet he was the one reassuring me. I didn't have anything else to do but try and get some sleep, if only to not disturb Moda.

I think I managed to drift off for a few minutes when I heard Moda gasping in pain. I looked over and saw him arching his back and grasping at his belly.

“Moda, what's wrong?" I started panicking again but I rushed to him, even if it was pointless.

He couldn't respond, his face was twisted in pain and his hands flopped between clawing the ground and scratching his belly so hard he drew blood.

Then the sounds. Oh, All-Dragon, the sounds.

I didn't hear them to start with as he was gasping too loud, but his grunts were cut off by popping and crunching, like eating the bones of a chicken over and over. I could see the muscles beneath his scales shifting, the solid lumps twisting and snapping, then bulging and then snapping all over again. It was happening all over his body, and I realised he was stretching, getting longer and broader.

Then he finally spoke.

“Help me! Lal...hheel-!" He screamed.

What could I do!? I clutched my muzzle and slowly crawled back. I was just babbling nothing and my eyes went wide as he flipped onto his front.

He raked his claws along the dirt floor, cutting deepening lines as his fingers, hands, feet and legs stretched and grew. His gasps were getting deeper and with one long cry, the scales on his upper back split and snapped apart, blood sprayed all over the wall as knuckled bone sprouted like a bloody, visceral weed, flopping loosely down his back, then bleeding flesh crawled up them, finally the skin we have beneath our scales. They were wings, I realised! Not properly formed, but they were supposed to be wings. His arms were forced around the front of his torso like a dragon and muscle burst apart the scales of his shoulders, like Firaegin when he's really mad but even the skin beneath split and bled before swelling flesh plugged the gap.

His tail creaked like flexing wood being pushed to breaking point as it stretched longer and as I backed away, I realised just how big he'd become. He was on all fours now, but if he stood up he had to be a little bigger than a human as the crunching and snapping finally stopped.

Moda gasped and growled in a deep voice as one of the man-kin entered the room. I realised I'd not been breathing since my twisted friend had called for help and I sucked in air. The man-kin giggled like a tickled baby.

“Caladar! It's taken! He's changed!" He shouted. I looked at the human, then back at Moda as he shook like he was drying himself, rumbled another growl, and looked around. Then he looked at me.

His red, now longer slitted eyes focused on me and I crawled as far back as I could. Moda drooled, tongue lolling, staggering as he walked towards me, getting used to his new legs. The look in his eyes... madness and hatred, like I'd caused the pain. He roared and pounced at me and swung a massive hand. He was as strong as a dragon as well; the slap hurt like being hit by a mace and it launched me against the stone wall several feet away. I felt something crack in my head, everything faded white, my hearing went funny, like everything was distant. I remember hitting the floor, blood dripping into my eyes and down my muzzle.

I tried crawling away. I remember human laughter. Then a coarse growl from Moda. I looked at him, and saw he was looking at me differently; I saw... he was aroused, still out of his mind. He grabbed me and pinned me to the floor, face down.

“Looks like he's taken a shine to you, little one! This is so much better than being torn to shreds, eh? I wish I could join in." The human bellowed with laughter, spittle running down his chin.

I felt something snap in my mind. Like everything in the world was gone except that human's grinning, flat toothed, sticky out nosed fucking face. I hated him. I wanted to peel him like a rabbit for the cooking pot and piss on his skinless body. I now knew what Tuha meant when he said you have to want your enemy dead to ignore what they might be feeling, so you wouldn't hesitate.

I felt Moda grab my tail and pull it to the side. Saliva dripped on my head, body heat near the base of my tail and I cried out in panic. Then he suddenly roared and and climbed off of me, pacing around and screaming. He started slamming his head on the floor and he snarled, wisps of smoke coming out of his mouth. He looked at me, and at last, I could see Moda in there again.

“Lrrlllaalllepp... rrmm... sorrryyy..." He slurred and blood seeping from his huge, savage teeth. They were crooked and all over the place, some longer than others but not in any sort of order.

“ Down." Caladar entered the room and said, gesturing for the human to open the cage. I was already down and Moda lowered himself, but he looked at me, growling his words.

“Get... rrready... run..."

The human got the cage door open with a ring of keys, and Moda pounced, knocking the man-kin back and the keys fell to the floor. Moda kicked it back into the cell with me as he leapt at the downed human, raking with claws and snapping his teeth. Caladar barked his command again, but it felt weaker, then yelled in overcaver out the door, but I wasn't paying attention; I felt the adrenaline overcome my injury and I grabbed the keys, crawled to my feet and darted out of the cage as the scaled man took something from his robe, it looked like a two pronged fork. I looked back, and Caladar raised his other arm, his hand glowing, pulling Moda off of the human without even touching him; I'd never seen such a thing.

I saw the room with the glass jars and ran for it, only to spot another human coming from the room with the portals. I dived under the table to hide until the way was clear.

“Get in here, damn you! Hurry up!" Caladar bellowed. The human pulled a bottle from his belt; a heavy, dark green glass vessel wrapped loosely in twine. He popped the cork and took a solid gulp, and for the second time, I was treated to someone turning from one thing to another; the human started gaining dragon-like features! A small tail sprouted and crept out from his clothes, his muscles bulged and he got a little bigger as his face twisted into a slightly less ugly shape, a short muzzle, but he still looked a lot like a human.

He placed the bottle on a table above me, then moved down the corridor where I'd come from, I grabbed the bottle and corked it; maybe I could use it, or maybe I was just depriving them of a resource, it didn't matter, it seemed too important to leave and it was still mostly full. I made my way into the portal room, but of course the portal wasn't working, and even reaching for the crystal I'd seen before in the drawer revealed nothing; he must have taken the crystal with him.

I turned back to the lab and saw my belted dagger sitting on the side next to some whittled wooden blocks and shavings. I wasn't gonna question my luck, so I grabbed it and buckled it around my waist as I went through the lab once more, down to the large door, past the mess-hall and bunk room on the left, a tiny, stinky room with a wooden chair or table with a hole cut in the top, and a storage room full of crates and barrels on the right.

The last chamber with the door was roughly hewn and only had a couple of torches in it for furnishings, embedded in the many cracks and outcrops and blunted stalactites hung overhead, higher than the tunnel. It seemed inefficient and crude having a large room yet putting nothing in it, but I had other things on my mind.

There were ten keys on the ring, and I didn't know which one I needed. The lock was also just out of reach, so I had to jump and plunge the key in one at a time, with a second hop to turn it. I could feel my head start aching again, so it took a few tries each key until I was down the last two. I put it in the keyhole.

“You're not going anywhere!" A voice, in draconic. The mocking skin-rag fuck from before. I turned and saw him; he was bloodied, his clothes were torn, but he was coming at me with drawn steel but moved in a stagger and trying to wipe the blood from his eyes. Instinct and training told me to break line of sight, so I darted to the side and tried to work out what to do.

* * *

Kaja's Chamber

Kaja scratched his chin as he looked over the rest of the report, but Lalep's account was one of the first parts he took issue with. He guessed that Lalep was struggling with this head injury and acted by instinct or just applied his training rather than really knowing what he was doing, as it seemed outlandish. The underboss stood up and stretched, walking a few laps around his chamber before opened his door. Sura was chatting with one of the miners, but as soon as she saw Kaja, she bid the male farewell and trotted over.

“I'm ready to get back to work, boss," she said, looking calm and focused.

“Good. I'm past the worst of it. I... must confess, even if Lalep has taken liberties with his story, he deserves sympathy for the hardships he went through. I'd let my frustration with his story block out the harm he endured. Come along, Sura, I want that freakish Maurice's account again; he was the one in pursuit of Lalep, after all."

The two kobolds once more set themselves back into place, and with Kaja finding the place to spare Sura's squeamish nature.

“I'm rather interested in his take on being attacked by Moda as well... not for any official reason. I just want to properly document the skin-rag suffering."

“With pleasure, boss!"

* * *

Maurice's Journal

I won't deny a part of me was enjoying it. Having even this twisted hybrid of dragon and kobold on top of me and raking at me hurt, but that's just something you have to get used to when such magnificent creatures. I'd only managed to catch and overpower kobolds before, but once you get past the claws-

“All-Dragon's blood, scribe, never mind."

I heard the ring of Caladar's draxaethir resonator as he used his magic to pull the hybrid off of me. The hybrid stopped his attack as the tone disrupted his mind and I crawled from beneath him as Lucas arrived, looking quite strapping himself; he'd imbibed a dose of drake-essence. My clothes were in tatters, and I didn't want to guess how many cuts I had, but none were too deep. A little drakes-mould paste would patch me up, a similar stuff that kobolds used to heal themselves that only worked on their kin, but the doping was a wonderful thing.

Caladar sounded less than pleased as I stood and felt blood trickle into my eyes.

“Gareg's spittle, the new subject has fled! Maurice, go and drag him back! Lucas, help me take this one for extraction."

Lucas pushed the hybrid as Caladar struck the resonator once more, causing the changed kobold to move, calm and obedient, and now that I wasn't being attacked, I couldn't deny the slight hollow feeling in my head as the tone seemed to echo in my mind, but I had a little friend to bring back home.

I walked to the main lab and figured I'd start at the cave exit first; the drakeblood crystal was currently being held by Grigori for the clear up, and he was conducting business far to the north by the trade portal. We couldn't risk someone discovering the portal back and we had no way of knowing when he would be finished, so it was safer with him. Besides, if he went and died we could always fashion another crystal from the dragoness' blood, and I wouldn't weep for the loss of a dragonhunter.

“You're not going anywhere!" I shouted, hoping to spook him. Kobolds were a flighty lot, so I hoped it would give me some sounds to follow as he panicked, but nothing. This was a young kobold, skinny, probably conscripted into being a soldier instead of being well trained, but I kept my sword ready all the same. I tore off my ruined sleeve and scraped the blood from my eyes.

I held my breath when I saw the keys were in the lock, scanned the room left to right, and checked the door. I twisted the handle and sighed with relief; it was the right key, but I must have scared him off before he could turn it.

“Almost gave us the slip, little guy. And before we could get acquainted! How rude." I called out and retrieved the keys, then turned back to search down the tunnel.

I felt something tiny land on my head, like a drop of water, but warm. Then tiny hiss and a scratching sound of bone on rock.

I looked up.

With a snarl, the yellow kobold landed on my shoulder and I felt a shooting pain run through my right eye. I couldn't see what was going on, just furious pink eyes and pointy teeth in a grimace. I screamed and punched him off of me, clutching my eye as blood poured from the wound, warm in my hand but cold in my head, and felt everything fade. I turned to see the door swing open, and the kobold flee into the darkness beyond before I blacked out.

“Best get back to Lalep's account here."

“Yes, boss. Oh, that's strange. There's nothing much left on Maurice's journal. Lots of torn pages and ink stains... and blood."

“Odd, but never mind, we'll make do with the other journals."

* * *

Lalep's Tale

I took his eye. I was hoping I'd get my dagger into his brain, but he flinched and I missed. He shoved me off and I plucked the thing out with it, and wasted no time slashing his belt and snatching the keys, dislodging the eye as I cut through the leather.

The new surge of adrenaline helped me focus as I picked the same key I'd finished with, recognising the little marks and scratches from use that my fading focus had missed last time, and leapt at the door, plunging in the key and grabbing the handle with the same hand in one motion, moving as quick as I knew I could while sheathing my dagger.

I swung the door open and into the grateful dark, a large cave with a low ceiling and a natural stone bridge before me with a passage at the far end. I could hear the rushing of water, but the sound seemed to get distant and my vision blurred again. Clutching my head as everything span, I staggered to the side, reaching for the handrail, but it was too high and I fell. I remember hitting something and I blacked out.

I came to and tried to breathe, only to suck down warm water, making me cough and vomit a lungful which helped snap me awake. I was in an underground river and the water was rushing around me, volcanic spring warmed water, which by the taste and temperature, told me I was still in the Goshev mountains. I also realised I was stuck to a root from a tree, which had snagged my belt, that had broken through the ravine wall and made an opening. I wasn't strong enough to pull against the flow of the water to free myself, though. Drake-spit, I doubted I would have been strong enough if I wasn't dizzy and weakened from being smacked against the wall by Moda. I wondered about unbuckling the belt, but I'd probably lose my only weapon, so I worked out a plan.

I pulled myself further up the root and out of the water, then drew my dagger and started sawing at it. It leaked watery sap and once it was down to the last few wiry strands, I did as drilled by cleaning what mess I could from my blade and sheathed it. Wrapping my legs around the root and raking the last few fibres with my claws, the root fell into the water and I climbed the thickening limb.

“Narrowly avoiding death a few times by luck... but outsmarting and almost killing a man-kin..."

“Huh? What's that, Underboss?"

“Tsk, nothing. Maybe there's more to Lalep's account than I thought. Still, the more absurd parts are yet to come."

I could feel my head throbbing again, my hearing and vision washing out, but I forced myself on, climbing up to where the root had punched through the rock and felt a weak smile on my muzzle as I saw it was a small tunnel! Just big enough for me to climb into. A chance to catch my breath and bearings.

I flopped in as I reached it, collapsing and holding my head, letting my heart slow and trying to resist passing out. I felt like crying again but I was empty on tears, but something else filled the void.

Fire. Seething hatred.

I wanted to get revenge for what they did to Moda, for wanting me to get mauled or... worse by him, for the change they forced on him. My teacher, Scout-Master Kugu, always said revenge wasn't worth it, 'counter productive to the job and a waste of resources', but he also said I'd never be a scout, that I'd never learn how to use a spear or follow a trail.

First things first, I needed to find a way back, or out of this nightmare. If I could get back home I could warn them. Even if it wasn't my dagger that took those fuckers out, I'd be happy to see them killed. That's the kobold way; as one, not like the individual glory man-kin seek. Greedy bastards.

A sound pulled me from my hate; a voice, distant, echoing from further down the tunnel and it sounded feminine. There weren't any females in that Scalecaster's group, so it gave me hope of finding something new, maybe an exit to the surface; I could just wait until night time and try and find my way back or rely on the emperor's loyal subjects.

I squeezed forward, ignoring the pain in my head and the dizzy spells I was suffering, and found another tunnel with a stream of water with forest of roots dipping within filling the passage, blocking all but the water flow from upstream. It was dirty, filled with silt and mud, but I saw movement; fish. Cave fish by the looks of it, ones that had no eyes but they travelled by sensing temperature and light through their skin.

Out of danger and presented with a source of food, I realised I was famished; the tunnel patrol was the last job of the day before I was to eat and sleep, so I lowered myself in and kept still, hands poised, eager but patient. It was a little trick I sometimes used on overcave patrols, waiting for the fish to become used to my presence and grabbing them by hand. Nobody else could do it! I'd won a few extra ale rations before the other kobolds got wise to it. I heard the voice in the distance a few times as I waited but I was still too far away to understand as it reverberated about the narrow passage.

As a fish moved near, and with a thrust of my claws, I managed to stab, grab, and pluck it from the water. I wasted no time sinking my teeth into it and tearing a piece out.

It was the most horrible thing I'd ever tasted, like the silty water it was swimming in and as if it was rotten inside. I spat it out, grumbled and pressed on towards the voice. Now I really hoped it was overcavers. I dreamed of the taste of their cattle or chickens. Oh, definitely chicken. I could have eaten a whole bird right then and there while it squawked.

A dull blue glow was ahead, a gentle light that I quite liked; soothing, instead of the harsher glare of flame, and the water started increasing in flow. I braced a hand against the rough walls for grip and reached the end of the tunnel as it poured into a huge circular room and saw the light was coming from crystals sprouting from the ceiling.

That's when I saw her.

A dragoness. White scales and silver fins that connected her horns around the back of her head and ran all the way down to the tip of her tail that reflected the light, shimmering and glistening, as well as running down her legs. She had no wings, but it didn't look like they had been cut off, her back was smooth and her shoulders were slender, like the rest of her, long and thin, with a tail that was longer than most dragon's than I'd ever seen. She had to be about as tall and long as Empress Jaraesi, maybe a little longer, just far slimmer; so slim I could see her ribs against her fine scales.

She didn't have the hardened 'beak' like dragonlords have, more a softer muzzle like us kobolds but rounder, more gentle, and her horns were long and thin, but many were cracked and damaged. Much like her muzzle, now that I focused on it; cuts and scratches all over. Even despite this, her eyes were the saddest part. They were sunken, without any sort of life or spark, grey and staring at the floor, and I realised she was walking around the edge of the chamber. There were deep, set grooves, like how miners set up tracks by digging and pounding down the loose surface, all the way around in an uninterrupted circle. This dragoness must have been doing this for for years.

She suddenly spoke. Her voice was so pretty... but it was hushed and strained.

“Servant's key... master's lock."

I winced and covered my muzzle as she stopped pacing, swinging her long neck and slamming her head into the chamber walls twice like a flail. She rumbled a high growl and staggered, then carried on walking. I realised there was old blood all over the walls, small streaks that blended in with the dark stone and several small piles of the wall were strewn about, worn down from repeated strikes. What was wrong with her? Why was she doing this? All the anger faded, I was horrified for her.

The room was lit by crystals in the ceiling, and there was one entrance, just big enough for a human. I wondered how they got her in there and watched as she drew near. The water flowing beneath me fell into a small pool that she dipped her muzzle into, mouthing at the liquid and plucking several of those disgusting fish. Almost without stopping, she gulped, swallowed and no sooner than she did, spoke again.

“Servant's key... master's lock." Once more she slammed her head against the wall, only this time she collapsed, clutching her muzzle and whimpering.

“Stand up, you simpering cunt." A shout from the entrance I'd spotted. Another of the humans entered the chamber, holding a lantern that housed what looked like a crystal, like the one they used for the portals. He approached the dragoness and she obeyed.

“Scribe. Hold there, we could use some context. Judging by the language this one is using, I assume it's Sullivan?"

“Oh, I think so, Underboss. Let me see..."

* * *

Sullivan's Journal

“Will he live?" I asked. Lucas looked at me, studying my expression. I didn't care that he knew I didn't care and that it was just morbid curiosity after the amusement of watching the mop-headed fucker whine and, for the first time in ages, not smile at every little fucking thing.

The dragonhunter sighed and shrugged.

“Looks like the blade came out through the side of his face instead of his brain. He'll live, but there's no getting that eye back. You're gonna lord this over him, aren't you? That he nearly got killed by a kobold?"

“Oh, I don't care that much; it's less the kobold being skilled than this pissant fucker being a liability. Whatever. I hope the deviant shit gets an infection and dies." I took my journal and left the bunk-room; a lot of the old pages and come loose and I was still trying to re-organise it. I hid myself in the supply room and flipped through it almost in meditation, replacing the pages.

It was my way to keep my mind. I couldn't forget what had happened, why I was here. I remembered Crayfield, I remembered my parents. My father was a merchant and a fisherman between longer travels and my mother was the village physician. They were good people, they did nobody any harm and between supplying the village with food, trade for life-preserving supplies, healing the sick and injured. They helped make Crayfield thrive despite how unimportant the town was and how few of us there were.

Then she appeared. The false St. Valarie. The siren dragon. She twisted the minds of everyone there, broke their wills, made them sustain themselves on her words. She was a fucking monster. Famous poets, young hopeful kids with chipped teeth and broad grins, old soaks spinning tales of the sea over rum by the fire at the Flotsam's Rest inn. Good, hard working people transformed into slaves.

I left home to train in Marfield, to become a soldier as soon as I could afford my own sword. The village was pretty out of the way, to the point most patrolling guards weren't near when raiders came from the sea. Privateers and exiles from Bralran or farther parts of Vliechov. I wanted to help protect the village, maybe train some of the kids to help. I was gone for three years, taking any job for any coin that gave me a chance to hone my skill. I'd saved up enough for some proper armour, tutelage from experts and lived on the simplest fare and water. I didn't want to be away any longer than I had to. I kept writing home, yet no letters returned. I didn't expect them to; I had no permanent address.

Three years... every day I wasn't injured beyond walking, I was protecting merchants, or fighting in illegal tournaments and, by chance, I spent some time protecting Caladar's estate. Real lucrative contract, that one.

Then I came home.

They were ghosts in physical form. All praising and begging for help from St. Valarie, who'd somehow appeared in a small cave I used to keep searching as a kid, looking for treasure. I wasn't gonna be cowed by whatever it was, and I peered in one day, and spotted her; a fucking dragoness pretending to be a saint. How fucking vain! Just using people for tribute, enslaving them! I remembered Caladar, that he was an expert in dragons. He was more than happy to help me dig her out like the parasite that she was.

It was my duty to make sure these broken people saw revenge, and the longer she suffered, the better. Forty years of this treatment was part of the payment due, and I would take what strength was offered, corrupt myself with her essence, or whatever foul kobold blood could do for me.

I would take that strength and kill everyone here who didn't side with me, and then I would kill every kobold and dragon I could find until something stopped me. Nothing should endure the taint of a dragon, and I didn't care if I had to corrupt myself to do it, to fight fire with fire.

It would all start with the siren. I would even see if she could be cured of the curse to make sure she could feel every wound I would inflict on her.

A simple drawing caught my eye from the scrap pages I'd gathered on my return to Crayfield. A picture of my mother, as drawn by my father when he was injured and bedridden and both were... maybe twenty years old. It was how they bonded, as he would draw scenes and sights around the sea and oceans and return home to show them to her, as she couldn't travel; she was too crucial to leave the village.

He would tell me the story of how he handed her a new stack of pictures each trip most every year, about how one day he hid a ring inside the bundle, crafted from his savings and a hunk of crystal he'd found in a cave on a tiny little island out to sea, a place that had been swept away during a storm not a day after he explored it.

“Sometimes things're meant to be. St. Valarie wanted me to have that crystal; I'd sailed past that islet some thirty times, maybe more, and yet it was only when I took the time to look, I found her gift for me. It's destiny, lad! It was meant to be!"

I could feel the ring resting against my chest, tied by a rope of woven fishing line.

It felt heavy.

Clearing my head, I looked at the journal as an object again, at least while it was in this state. I knew the order of the pages by memory, by the feel of the fragile pages and the smell of the sea on them. I set about organising them, restructuring my past once more.

“Sullivan? Caladar wants you to check on the dragon," Lucas said as he entered, “and we're on alert until we find the escapee. I still think he fell to his death, but best to be sure. Grigori's back and he's going to be covering the door once you leave. I'm gonna be sending a message to our contacts in Goshev, just in case the runt managed to get word back to the clans so we'll at least be warned if Firaegin's been informed." Lucas was holding the command focus, a crystal formed of her blood much like those used to power the portals, but hewn and cut to resonate at the same tone as Caladar's draxaethir resonator and held in an old, disused lantern; apparently any dirt or dust could throw off the frequency. I stood and took it, then left without a word.

I left for the compound, wincing as my eyes adapted to the dark; a fringe benefit of the doping, and looked at the bridge. The small droplets of blood on the floor that verged towards the edge and vanished were the last trace of the the escaped kobold, who must have fell down a sixty foot ravine with sloped, uneven sides, into a turgid flow that was a run of jagged rocks and a number of waterfalls. It was impossible to be sure if he was dead or not, but there was no way back at least due to the speed of the flow.

Over the bridge and passing a passage leading to where we did our laundry and drew our water, but like the caves before me it was a strange network made by stone-shell tarantulas, or miner's bane spiders, depending where you're from. Busy bastards had made the area their lair a long time ago, but a section of a cavern roof fell through and even a small amount of sunlight made them abandon the nest, which made it perfect for us.

It was a fair walk to the siren's lair, and I buried myself in my thoughts again to pass the time. I was almost excited to relieve some tension and worsen her lot in life.

I reached the narrow passage into the lair just in time to see her whimper and hold her head. Amusing as it was, I didn't smile. I entered the chamber proper, held the focus high, and shouted.

“Stand up, you simpering cunt!"

“Boss? I didn't get that impression of Vala as any kind of monster from Lalep's account."

“Context is everything, and this is just another reason we need all the facts as perhaps we need to warn the emperor of her true motives. Still, speaking of Lalep, back to his telling."

* * *

Lalep's Tale

I watched the man-kin approach and the dragoness obeyed the command. I could see her shivering, fear striking her face, or trying to. It kept pulling back to that flat expression.

“Alright. Just out of curiosity," he said, “I don't suppose you've seen a little yellow shit kobold? A real runt."

The dragoness shook her head.

“Eh, figured. Good. The little fucker's hopefully dead." He paused, looking back at the exit, then to her once more.

“Change."

The white dragon trembled and gasped, her face twisted in a panic for a split second, then she started glowing, then... shrinking! Smaller and smaller, until she was tiny, even compared to the human, and when the glow abated, she was a kobold! The same white scales and grey eyes but no fins, just narrow horns, and only the two of them besides the skull flukes we all had.

She stood, her eyes growing wet and looked like she was about to run, but she stood her ground. I got over my surprise at her change and began wondering about how to get down there, maybe sneak up and try and take out the human.

“There we go." The human twisted his mouth upward. I guess it was a smile, but he wasn't looking happy. With a rapid charge, he kicked her in the face, sending her sprawling, then climbed onto her, placing the lantern down and pinning her to the ground with one hand, then began punching her over and over with the other.

The fire in me boiled up again.

“Leave her alone!!" I roared out. I leapt from the waterfall and into the pool, crawling out and drawing my dagger. The human looked at me and stood, kicking her again as he did. As I got near, he drew his sword and pointed it at me.

“Come on then, scale-swine, let's get this over with."

He swung his sword in a lazy figure of eight as I came to my senses; there was no way I could fight a human alone, face to face like this. Kobolds need teams to fight them. I considered throwing my dagger, but I doubted I'd be able to kill him, I looked him over, trying to see anything that might give me an advantage before I noticed the heavy bottle on his side, wrapped in rope. I felt at the one that was dangling from my back; it seemed to make the human more dragon-like, and maybe it would do the same for me, giving me some strength to even the odds.

I cut the string, lifting the bottle to my mouth and pulled the cork with my teeth.

The human laughed.

“Oh, that's rich. Think that'll give you a chance? Go ahead, it'll give me more satisfaction gutting you."

The pride of humans, as I was told about. It was my chance. I gulped down the bottle, chugging it as fast as I could and regretted it; it tasted of blood and the way the alchemy lab smelled when they were cleaning, and there was a lot to drink as well. Even so, I managed to get it all down, and felt my insides churn and bubble and I held back the urge to vomit. I belched as I dropped the bottle and bad as everything seemed, as horrible as I felt and as revolted as I was, I suddenly felt amazing. Powerful. My head stopped hurting and everything was clear and crisp to see and hear.

With a rush of warmth, I realised I was looking the human at the same height. I adjusted my footing, as it was like my feet had been pulled together but I didn't lift them from the floor. It didn't stop, I was getting bigger, my arms and legs thickening up; I looked like a real soldier! It was difficult to keep standing, so I guessed I really was becoming like a dragon and fell forward, noticing how small the human seemed now; I had to be over twice his size.

I was overwhelmed by the sensations and watched as the human backed up and looked at the white kobold. He shouted something, and she shifted back to dragon form, then he fled. I fought through the fact I was still changing and gave chase. Everything felt clumsy, like my limbs were made of lead despite how strong I felt, and the human managed to escape.

I snarled and roared, slamming a fist against the chamber wall. The stone cracked and crumbled... it was amazing! I'd never felt anything like it. Just like I was a dragon; the world was mine to toy with, possessing such strength!

Turning around, I saw the dragoness had started walking around the chamber again.

“Are you okay?" I said. Serious as it all was, it was kinda funny how deep and booming my voice was. The dragoness wasn't impressed, and she just kept roaming so I approached her.

“Servant's key... master's lock." She went to swing her head against the wall, but I put myself between her and it, catching her head and carefully pulling her into a against me, anything to stop her hurting herself any more.

“Hey, it's alright! I'll protect you, Oh Dragonlord!" Again, no response. “What did they do to you? Could you always become a kobold? I've never seen anything like that before."

She first seemed to try and stand again, but then settled against me, staring ahead and blinking slowly.

“Guess I did the opposite... I was a kobold and now I look like a dragon. If my friends back home could see me now!"

“S-servant's key... master's lock..." She said again, looking upset before her expression turned flat again.

“I don't understand why you keep saying that." I mumbled.

“W_hy_ _ does _ she keep repeating that, boss? And why did Lalep get that big when the human only changed a little?"

* * *

Kaja's Chamber

“Let's pause there for a moment," Kaja said, “and I can explain about magic works on kin as well as how humans use curses."

“Oh, yes please, boss!" Sura bounced a little on the stool, clapping her hands together. “I never knew you were an expert. You don't use many spells, at least from what I've seen."

Kaja stared at the scribe and then grumbled; she wasn't wrong, compared to his spell mastery as a dragon, casting as a kobold took a great deal of discipline and study that he simply hadn't achieved yet, only some of the basics.

“I have plenty of... let's call it theoretical experience. I was also close friends with Figin, who, and you can ask any of Crater-Vale's original clan, was a seasoned spellweaver in his own right. You may want to take notes, scribe."

Kaja waited for Sura to prepare by spending the time making sure he structured his thoughts and sipped his ale, savouring the mellow flavour.

“As a base for how curses work, let's cover the rudimentary facts. Dragons are the entities by which the All-Dragon shares his power with the world from The Final Rest and in a form known as magic, which is all around us; in the food we eat, the air we breathe and the water we drink, most never see how it influences the world. Covering the subject would take all day, but that's a topic for another time.

“Magic's born from dragons, fuelling their spells, granting them strength, longevity and more and then spreading from them and merging with everything else. They can absorb magic too, but only if it comes from another source, like another dragon. This power nourishes them, preventing them from having to eat anywhere near as much as we kobolds or even humans have to compared to our size so they can live in harmony with nature. It is a gift to the dragon and then given to the world, even if humans refuse to accept it and many dragons have ignored their place in the world. Or rather they didn't until His Mightiness Firaegin took over.

“Magic flows through kobolds, but it isn't drawn to them. This is why kobolds in the service of a strong dragon are more powerful in turn; the ambient magic is stronger, and by flowing through kobolds, it keeps it close for the dragon to receive as we act as a source for them. Lalep, as far as I can tell, imbibed an extremely high concentration of magic, likely distilled from other kobolds by some abhorrent practice, which would explain why he grew to dragon size and even gained some characteristics, such as the need to walk on four legs. After all, a kobold's easiest spells are that of enlargement and strength, as we stop the magic flowing through us, instead trapping it inside for a while. It's like tensing a muscle once a kobold learns what triggers they need to enact, but keeping it up too long starts poisoning us, damaging our flesh.

“Which brings us to humans. Magic avoids them, weaving around them. If they did have magic go through then, they would suffer from a toxicity from it like we do by overuse. The few that learn how to cast spells learn to push and pull the flow, by knowing the subtle motions of how it moves rather than how we cast them.

“Think of it like this; magic is like water. The ocean, springs and rain are the All-Dragon's influence, dragons are lakes and the world is the streams and rivers. Kobolds learn to move it by using a bucket. Humans learn to move magic by splashing it around like children at play at first and wizards learn to use it by cupping their hands.

“Groups of these wizards, or mages, sorcerers or whatever often have to band together to form spells of any worth, and most humans are at the end of their life when they truly master how to move it. Scalecasters force magic through themselves by making a flow run via draconic flesh they implant into themselves. Naturally, this poisons them but the draconic flesh sustains them until they grow used to it. Once the flesh is properly ingrained, then they grow in power by imbibing dragon blood and flesh.

“That brings us to curses. Humans can learn how to manipulate the magic that flows through kobolds and dragons. Because of this arcane concentration natural to us, we're vulnerable to these spells, and often the simplest way of doing that is to use that tuning fork apparatus Caladar used. The tone flares up parts of the mind that dragons and kobolds generally use to control magic and, by threading the magic response to words, the dragon or kobold actually sustains the desired effects, and the mind is demented and focused on the words.

“Did you catch all that?" Kaja realised how much he'd said and how quickly, dreading having to repeat any of it.

“All main points in shorthand, boss! I'll fill it out in detail later." Sura beamed a toothy grin.

“Really?" Kaja had underestimated her twice now. “Oh... very good, scribe. So, the draconic essence potion clearly reacts to the blood doping the humans had, so it gave the magic a place to transform them, make them more like dragons. As kobolds are closer still to our dragonlords, Lalep received a massive dose of magic that presented much the same as our enlargement and strength spells. Also, you should be able to answer your own question for the curse."

“Yes, Underboss! Vala was cursed and was repeating what was said but... how do you cure a curse? I mean, Lalep in his side of the story-"

“Stop! We'll get to that... lewdness in good time." Kaja shuddered, realising he was postponing an inevitable aspect he tried to block out once already during Lalep's regaling.

“Curses follow rules, as learning these rules is part of how humans cast magic. They cannot be flawless, as that would make it impossible to believe and thus it either won't work or it can kill the subject outright if too much energy is invested. Weak curses can be the hardest to break because of this, as they can be ignored, where stronger curses make those afflicted focus on the cure and nothing else because of how desperately the victim wants to be cured.

“The best way I can explain would be to imagine being lost at sea. If you see no shore, or a rock to climb out with, or any hope of escape, you might just give up, or pick a direction and swim, but you'll never know if you're going the right way, or going in circles. Now, a curse that has a rule, a puzzle that you know that will cure you gives you a goal to drive for. The cleverness of it is that reaching it might be near impossible, as the water is flowing against you, or the land is subtly moving away, but it IS possible, and so you become obsessed with reaching it.

“Ultimately, because it's the victim's own magic working against them, believing it can be broken is what sustains it."

“Ooh! So that's why she was always repeating the cure..." Sura bounced on the seat again. “Wow, Caladar must have been quite powerful!"

“Indeed. Anyway," Kaja sighed, “let's get this over with."

“Um... if you're not comfortable with this part, maybe I could do it for you, boss?" The scribe said, smiling. Kaja didn't trust the smile, or the subtle lick of the muzzle she performed, but the thought of reliving this part again...

“Drake-piss... fine. But no embellishments! Just the facts! I'll give the hub a full walk, and I trust you, Sura, to be concise and succinct enough to be finished with the lewdness by the time I get back."

“You can count on me, Underboss!"

Kaja handed the journals to the scribe and, far slower, the ledger. Sura began writing before Kaja had even left the room.

* * *

Lalep's Tale

“Master's key and servant's lock. Hmm, I wonder if it's code or something, like Kugu always talks about with man-kin. Saying things that mean other things." I'd become used to my booming voice and the way the room cracked and crumbled to my movements, and remained holding the dragoness in a gentle embrace. She was calm and still as her shivering had almost stopped, as if deep down, despite the vacant stare, she felt some comfort. It felt nice.

“Okay, Lalep," I said, nodding “just gotta think about it. Masters are dragons, like you," I gently patted her head, but she didn't react, “and kobolds are servants. That seems most likely. Keys and locks are things you use to open stuff. You stick the key in the lock."

I looked at her, hoping for some sigh of change, but nothing. As angry as I felt for Moda, I was crushed at seeing a dragonlord so broken. I stroked the soft fins on her neck and her shivering ceased altogether.

“No matter what happens, I won't leave you. Someone really close to me once said that it's a kobold's duty to stick with their dragon, no matter how bleak, and I may be from clan Crater-Vale, but right now, what matters is we help each other, right? I'm your kobold, and I swear I'll get you out of this."

The dragoness sighed.

“Servant's key. Master's lock?"

“I don't know. You're stuck here, you're a master, but I don't see a lock. The way out's an open passage, it's just too small for us to leave and too big to be a lock, and I certainly don't have anything like a key to stick in a-"

It hit me. I gulped at the realisation.

“Being male, I-I guess I have... u-um... and y-you have...ah haha..." I stammered, but the white dragon's eyes widened and blinked and she pulled away. I kept a hand on her neck, just in case she tried to hurt herself, but she looked at me, then down.

Between my legs.

“Servant's key...?"

She wriggled her slender form to turn her body, raising her tail. The subtle gap parted and I couldn't help but stare at the grey flesh glistening within.

“Master's lock."

“Hehee! Although as lewd as it all is, it makes sense; a kobold would likely be too afraid to mate with her out of respect, as well as be far too small. Very cunning."

“B-but you're a dragon, and I'm... I'm normally a kobold! We're not supposed to d-"

I was cut off as she ran her tongue over my body until it traced my genital slit. Between that and the power I still felt in me, I couldn't help it. I stood and climbed over her, pushing her shoulders low as she kept her back legs raised, her tail draped over my shoulder and I growled as my dick emerged. I was bigger there too, the copper coloured flesh, the conical shape and the sensitive prongs along the side and beneath. I hesitated for a few seconds before she backed herself up and pushed me against the wall.

I was stronger than her, but I was so unsure that she was the one who started, guiding herself over my length, but then I felt something as the first flukes of my dick raked on the inside of her warm, slick cloaca. An instinct, a drive awoke within me; she was my mate.

I pushed back, forcing her down as I felt every pleasing shock run up my body. Every fear I felt about the mating halls was gone, and I ran my hands over the smooth scales of her thighs and hooked my fingers around her hips, pull myself all the way into her.

For the first time, she didn't whimper, or groan, or say those four dreaded words.

She squealed a long, sweet cry.

It was the most amazing noise I had ever heard and I wanted to hear it again. I kept my grip and pulled myself out, once more shuddering as the flange tips of my cock vibrated as they ran back through the tightness inside her, and we both growled as one. She was a trapped dragon, broken by humans and I was a kobold, alone, turned dragon-like, but nothing felt more natural, more right. It's how I always did my best, in fighting or training, like Figin once told me; just react and don't overthink.

I settled into slow and gentle thrusts as I knew she was weak and frail, so I was afraid of hurting her, but she started pushing herself against me, harder and faster. She turned and looked at me and we stared at each other as I felt my scales flex and stick out from my arousal, a crackle of energy ran over my body and I felt my insides clench. I don't remember how long it had been since we started, but I bellowed a roar that I swear shook the room as I came inside her and fell forward, pinning her as my strength escaped me.

She wasn't done though, and she looked disappointed. Then she cried out, a long and potent scream. The blue crystals in the ceiling shook but the most shocking feeling ran through me; strength renewed, as if I hadn't finished.

I reared up again and she smiled at me. She was unbroken. She looked whole and, despite the ribs standing out against her scales and the frail and narrow waist, she had power. I thrust into her once more and she slammed her hips against mine, harder than I thought she could take it. The gasps and grunts filled the room, the world shook. The runt, the last of my litter, the kobold mocked and trodden down. I was mating with a dragon.

I was moving faster and faster, each thrust as hard as I could as she cried out with glee. the raking and shaking we shared from the floor shaking movements and at last, she screamed, I felt her juices gush around my dick and the trickle of them on the floor. It was so loud and so powerful that the crystals, whining as they shook from the building pitch before exploding and made the room go dark with the cascade of shards.

She still wasn't done. Another scream and I was energised once more.

“Yes!" She shouted. Just like her sweet gasps and wonderful cries, she spoke like a song. She crawled forward a little, twisting in my grip and rolling onto her back, and I moved on top of her, hungry to continue, but she looked at me. I knew the vacant stare was gone, but seeing her look at me, a smile on her smooth yet damaged muzzle. I held my breath, mouth agape, and she craned her slender neck up to me. A dark grey tongue snaked out, brushing along my mouth. It made my heart hammer and flutter.

A small and budding part of me wanted to stop and talk, to ask if she was alright and what had happened to her, but the magic in my body was overpowering, giving form to lust and instinct and I pressed as much of my impressive weight onto her, once more setting into a rhythm of heavy, driving thrusts. Her claws, thin, delicate but sharp, scraped against my risen scales, grabbing me and pulling me against her. She was so frail, but I let her hold me as I hissed and... how many times had I came now? Everything was a blur but it felt like we hadn't stopped for an hour.

Then a cold weakness shot through me. The dragoness looked at me with a soft smile, and her eyelids drooping; she looked exhausted and I collapsed against her. She felt like she was growing against me, but it was me; I was shrinking, my mighty form dropping back into the tiny runt I truly was.

The dragon turned and fell unconscious, and I scrambled to remain on her, instead falling on the floor as I stopped changing back. Exhaustion was all I had left; I hadn't slept for more than a few minutes in that cage, I had been knocked out twice and nearly drowned, and now the surge of energy left a vast chasm of fatigue in me. The floor was hard and uncomfortable, and covered in our passionate mess.

It was still the most comfortable thing I could think of, and I blacked out.

* * *

Kaja's Chamber

Sura glanced over her shoulder at the door and a hand ran over her slightly pudgy belly; a circumstance of her job, Jaraesi not interfering with her kobolds and a lack of activity. She looked over Lalep's... evocative description of his tussle with Vala and nibbled on her lip. Sura's hand crept lower, her claw-tip running across her cloaca.

The door thumped open.

“Bah, that took longer than I thought," Kaja grumbled. “Is everything alright, scribe?"

Sura's hands busied themselves with pouring a drink as she desperately tried not to spill anything.

Kaja walked behind her, peering over her shoulder, and grumbled some more.

“Hmph, it's well written, good job scribe. Right... we have the important parts coming up, since this is where I lost faith in Lalep's clearly falsified ability to slay humans single handed. More likely this Vala has been subverting his thoughts out of self preservation and using her powers to actually achieve her goals of escape."

Sura paged through the journals as Kaja took his ledger and sat back on the bed.

“Well, there's actually a part here from the older dragonhunter, Grigori..."

“Well, anything relevant to Lalep?"

A smug grin formed as she peered through Lucas' journal, then back at Grigori's.

“That would be telling. Just trust me, boss, it'll come together."

“Oh, very well. As you will, scribe. I suppose insight into a murderer of our kin would be enlightening as well."

* * *

Grigori's Journal

Kobolds were perhaps one of the most surprising creatures alive. Say what you want about the raothaar, the ratfolk, who are also smaller than humans, albeit not as much as drakelings, but they're sturdy, they're quick and stronger, pound for pound, than a human. They exist independent of anything as focused and grand as a dragon, and still thrive.

Kobolds though? They're weak, fragile, skittish. They struggle to survive alone, or coexist with other races. It's telling that they deify any of their number that stands out and achieves things that humans would give a pat on the back and maybe a free round of drinks at a tavern. They're dubbed Exemplar, or Prahaxen, in their tongue. Besides these individuals, who still seldom match a human equivalent, kobolds aren't impressive besides their stamina in menial tasks.

But even the most sedate, lazy kobold would become the equivalent of an exemplar in the service of a wounded dragon. It was a specific circumstance, a dragon with a strong bond with its kobolds in dire straits, so the dragon's magic would burst from their forms and fill the kobolds near them with strength equivalent to a human, and their minds would merge into that single, selfish purpose of protecting their dragon. More vile dragons would find their numbers flee instead. Otherwise kobolds were no true threat to a trained human soldier.

This yellow kobold though? Luck let him escape his cell, but to outwit Maurice and almost kill him? Some struggled to see where Maurice's foolishness ended and the kobold's luck began.

I saw it, though. A kobold, isolated from his clan, away from his dragon and wounded by the transformed kobold managed to escape us. I also saw his speed when we cornered him. This was likely an exemplar.

He had to be eliminated. With no corpse as proof, we could only assume he lived. If he then bonded with the siren, he could become a genuine threat.

“You're certain, Grigori?" Caladar's expressionless face failed to conceal his surprise. I was glad to have his ear; if I failed to convince him, I expected to be cowed into submission by his draxaeyn kurhros, a dragonlord command.

“Beyond all doubt, Caladar. Take nothing for granted and have everyone gear up. I would say it's a shame you already sent Sullivan to check on the prisoner, but we must focus on stopping them from escaping. Likewise, if we attempt to search for him in the tunnels, we will be working in the kobold's element; he will be able to see us from further away, likely hear us before we can hear him, and gauging by his running speed, it would be like chasing a rabbit on foot. We should lock down the compound and man the door, let him come to us and make use of the siren potions."

“That's assuming the kobold survived the fall and has somehow broken the curse. Unlikely. I will, however, concede to everyone remaining on alert until Sullivan returns, on rotating shifts. You are not to harm the dragoness, but you may kill the kobold if necessary now that we have that potential passage he fell through."

“Aye, although I question the worth of Maurice in this task."

“Because of his injury? The drakes-mould decoction has repaired the wound and, besides the loss of his eye, he seems in good health."

“I question his sanity, Caladar. He's been corrupted by the doping. By the Six, I daresay he may be giving in out of some misguided kinship."

“Nonsense!"

I winced and glanced over my shoulder. Maurice, bandages around his missing right eye and compressing his curly dark hair on his head, leaving his dishevelled state worse. He grinned, because of course he did, but I swear he was showing more teeth than normal.

“Fit as a fiddle and ready to do my part, boss."

“Brief him on the situation," Caladar said to me, “and if you see them, deal with the kobold as you see fit but I reiterate; do NOT harm the dragon. The current subject is almost processed and the results look promising, but I cannot be interrupted and until I'm certain this new process works, we can't risk our main source of blood." Caladar turned, moving for the dissection room.

The lack of humanity in the room was stifling; one developing monster and one who had sacrificed his humanity for power. I held back my bile and told Maurice of what had occurred since he was injured, refusing to let his vapid yet constant stare unnerve me. He pondered for a moment, then his grin broadened.

“So, are we mounting a pursuit into the tunnels? I've been bedridden for a few hours, I could use the chance to stretch my legs."

“We're staying here and guarding the only way out, and I doubt the kobold will be acting with haste." I sighed and shook my head. “If he's a scout, which judging by his speed and guile seems probable, he will wait out and observe for a while. I recommend you, then myself, then Lucas in four hour turns. Just knock on the door if you see him and we'll take it from there, and once I relieve you, I want you to listen out. Lucas should be back by then and be rested by the time my turn's over."

“That's boring." He licked an errant strand of spittle from his jaw. “I prefer my idea; I'm going to go into the caves and help Sullivan." He shrugged and I grabbed his arm, staring him in the eye.

“You'll do as told, Maurice. This isn't the time for your fantasies. The kobold and the dragoness need to be captured or killed, and we need to stick together."

“We're not going to get anywhere just sitting here and waiting. Besides, the kobold's certainly dead and you're not in charge. Either make Caladar order me, or let me do my thing." Maurice shrugged from my grip and started walking towards the cave door.

“Do that and you'll divide us, giving the kobold an opening. Scouts are opportunistic, and while you're pissing about on the way to or from the dragoness' lair, he'll ambush you again, so I'll give you one warning." I hated displaying emotion; an old way of evoking a sense of professionalism that worked well for me was keeping calm, even when attacked by a dragon as it gave people a sense of normality to focus on, that things were in control, allowing them to follow orders.

This filth, though, brought my blood to the boil. His blasé attitude sickened me. I grabbed his shoulder, spun him around and stared him in the eye, inches away.

“You may have some fetish for these monsters but you've never suffered under them, or caught the scent of people burnt to cinders by dragon-fire or seen babes eaten by kobolds. This isn't a game! The world's gone mad and we have a chance to gain the power to fight back. But we have to stick together; if that kobold escapes, he'll alert Firaegin, either directly or by his dragonlord, and he WILL search for us. We may be wanted men by local townships where we have access, but bringing the empire upon us is a fools game!"

“Suffered? No... I've enjoyed their presence, though? Such sweet songs!" He said, enraptured, then laughed in my face. “You stay here and piss your drawers all you want, old man, I'll find that kobold, deal with him, and make sure the dragoness gets 'seen' to."

That smile again. I would never admit to losing control. I prefer to call it taking firm measures.

I shoved Maurice into the wall and pressed a hand against his damaged eyesocket, causing him to suck in a breath to squeal, and my other hand clamped on his mouth.

“You will stay here. You will do as instructed. Is that understood?"

“... sure, Grigori. Whatever you say." He said, muffled by my hand and through his teeth.

I released him, heading to Lucas to inform him of the situation.

“... best sleep with one eye open." Maurice grumbled.

I didn't stop, or even look over my shoulder.

“I do."

“Scribe, that was a waste of time and paper."

“Nuh uh! Just wait, boss."

“Whatever. Let's get back to Lalep's exaggerations, I suppose."

* * *

Lalep's Tale

Startled, I woke up to the low, slow breaths of the dragoness. I was still exhausted, wondering what I'd heard.

Then a human snarl. Motion as I opened my eyes made me roll to one side and a sword swung by my head, then a boot slammed into my chest and sent me rolling head over heels.

The white dragon stirred, and I stood, trying to defend myself, only to have the human turn and hold that lantern with the crystal aloft.

“Fuck off against the wall, whore! I'll deal with you in a second." He yelled. She winced and looked at him, but didn't move, instead turning to face us as the human rushed at me, swinging his sword.

He was too angry in his swings, too eager, acting like he was chopping a piece of meat. I'd fought sparred with quicker kobolds doing the same and they couldn't touch me. He had reach, but I wasn't in danger yet. I was still exhausted though, and one mistake was all it would take. I considered fleeing, but he'd threatened the dragon as well, and I swore that I'd protect her. I reached for my dagger and realised when I'd changed, the belt must have snapped; kobolds had the same problem when they used their magic to enlarge themselves, with many soldiers never learning the enlargement spell since they spent so long in armour.

Dashing away, I scoured the ground, searching for my blade. I spotted it near the dragon, and ran to it, but it was near the man-kin, who saw my intent. I may be quick, but the human's longer legs meant he got there first and stood on it. He swung at me and I dived beneath, tucking, rolling and springing for distance.

The dragon loomed behind him, baring her teeth and slowly snaking her head down to the human, who turned and waved the lantern again, forcing her back.

“I said get back! Fuck it, change! I'll kill this whore, then you, you little shit!" He looked down, keeping his sword pointed at me, but reaching down and picking up my dagger, pinching it against the lantern.

The dragoness once more glowed and shrank, reforming into a kobold. She stood, looked at her hands, then at the human as he waited for my next move. She didn't look like she was struggling any more, even when the man-kin looked back at her and raised his sword. I sprinted for him, hoping to knock him off balance, but my own cowardice meant I was just too far as he started to swing down.

“Time to die, you fucking monster!"

The white kobold scowled, sucked in a rapid breath, and screamed. It wasn't just sound, it was like her voice had weight, and far from a panicking screech, it was rage and anger. I was pushed back, but the human, being closer, was toppled, the sword, lantern and my dagger falling from his hand.

She staggered, gasped for air, then began to sing. I didn't recognise the words, but they sounded close to draconic, but the words were mixed with growls, clicks and it made no sense. but it was a gentle song, nothing like anything the miners sing. The human got to his knees and remained there, looking confused and placid.

I picked up his sword, which was longer than I was tall, hefted it over my head, and swung. The blade cut him, bouncing off of his skull and he clenched his teeth in pain, his arms twitching as if he was trying to lift them, but the white kobold maintained her song, so I swung the sword again, and again, and again.

I didn't care how many times it took. She must have endured this torture for so long that, where my presence didn't get a response, his presence did; how many blows had she endured to make her react that way? I vented my wish for vengeance for Moda for her instead, slowly chopping chunks of his skull away with each swing until he collapsed.

She went silent as the human died, but I didn't stop swinging until the twitching stopped and the biggest part of the man-kin's head was no bigger than a grape.

I stared at the pulped mass of the man-kin's head, splayed out in fragments, lumps and streaks. I'd killed a human. Maybe I would have felt or thought something profound at the realisation, that I was a true soldier of Crater-Vale, even if I was assisted, but instead, I dropped the sword and looked at the white kobold, who was looked at her hands, down at herself and around the room as tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

“A-are you alright?" I asked, and she dived at me, tackling me to the ground.

“Thank you! Thank you!" She sobbed as she wrapped her arms around me. I realised I was covered in blood, that now marred her white scales, but she nuzzled my cheek and squeezed me tightly. I couldn't forget what we'd done as dragon and... whatever I'd turned into, but as a kobold, I felt the old doubts, that maybe she'd find me lacking. She was a dragon, after all.

“It's okay, Oh Dragonlord! Just doing what a kobold should. Uh, I'm sorry about what I did! I didn't mean to... um, y'know... when I was big, and we..."

“Mated?" She giggled. “You were so gentle, and worried about me. I was the one who pressured you, anyway. Besides, you cured my curse! I can't thank you enough!"

“Wait, doesn't that mean she might be fertilised?"

“Unlikely, scribe; malnourished female dragons will stop producing eggs to save nutrients."

She stood up, grimacing at the blood on both of us, then finally at the dead human body nearby. “There's more of them, we should move on, but I don't know how to get out besides that door they use. How about wherever you got in?"

“Nope, just a stream creating the waterfall, feeding that pool," I pointed to the pond she had eaten and drank from, “and another small tunnel that leads to a big, fast river. Besides, I doubt I could climb that high."

“Well, that wouldn't have been a problem." She smiled at me and closed her eyes, glowing as she did. The air shifted, as of a gentle breeze washed over me, and she was a dragon again. The shattered crystals of the chamber only gave a subtle light, but the way her fins reflected the weak blue light made the silver tinge just a little stronger. Silvery light cast shadows on her body, and I once more saw the ribs against her scales, the tight muscles worn thin and the damage to her muzzle.

It didn't matter. I had never been so awestricken in my life.

She stared at me for a moment, looking quite sad for some reason, but I couldn't find the words; she was so pretty! I simply gasped.

She tilted her head.

“What's wrong." Her voice had power, like her scream. It filled the room like a dragon's usually would, I could feel it through me. I could never hope to describe what I felt. I just said the first thing I thought of, seeing her this close.

“You're beautiful."

“Aww!!"

“Hush, scribe."

“I'm a monster." She said and shook her head, muzzle inches from the ground. I reached out and placed a hand against the fins around her head, and she flinched away. It made my heart ache as I retracted.

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean-"

“It's not you. It's alright. You just don't know what I've done." She sighed and glowed, shifting back to her kobold form once more. “Come, we have to get you out of here."

I wondered what she meant by that as she walked over to the man-kin's body. I collected my snapped dagger belt and grumbled; Tuha was going to kick my tail for this. Not to mention my lost armour and spear.

A shrill scream made me leap off of the floor, followed by the sound of shattering glass. I looked at her, and realised she was holding the shards of the crystal that had been in the lantern, that lay at her feet.

“So that's how they controlled you?"

“Somewhat. It allowed them to command me, but the curse that you broke was the thing keeping me here." She studied me, glancing from my feet to my short horns, and she smiled. She didn't have the damage to her muzzle as a kobold, and lacked the fins, but her horns were the same, narrow and long. She was slimmer than most but as tall as a normal kobold instead of a runt like me.

It was embarrassing I just knew she was looking at a little, dumb kid, and the smile was just the disbelief that I was all she had to help her escape. I rubbed the back of my neck and couldn't keep eye contact, but she gently lifted my chin in her hands as her eyes stared through me. That smile... it gave me strength. It could have warmed me against the bitterest cold.

“You're quite bold, aren't you? Attacking a human like that, alone, just for me. I'm not even your dragon... oh, but I don't even know your name, or which clan do you belong to."

“Uh. I'm Lalep, clan Crater-Vale."

“That's... Karajan's clan, right? An old and powerful drake. Territorial..." She looked worried.

“Oh, he's gone now. Our dragonlord's Emperor Firaegin now. He's really nice!" I smiled back at her. She responded in kind, then took my hand, interlocking her fingers. I couldn't believe how such a simple gesture felt so trusting, so good.

“Emperor Firaegin? I've never heard of... well, if you say he's nice, I believe you, Lalep. Alright, I'm..." She stopped and scratched her head, “I'm Vala. We can talk more when we're safe. I think I've been here for a long time but I have no idea what lies ahead."

“Well, I'm a scout! I'm sure I can find a way out of here." I smiled and thumbed my chest. “I don't know if you remember, but I swore I'd protect you, and by the emperor's will, I mean it! I'd fight a hundred humans!"

I started towards the exit, only for her to tug at my arm.

“I admire your candour and bravery, Lalep, but you seem ill equipped, no?"

I looked at the ripped belt in my hand and shrugged, giving a nervous smirk.

“I'll... improvise?"

She giggled, and not in a mocking way. It was music to my ears.

“That simply won't do, my protector. Let's see..." She looked at the human body and his sword. “I have a few ideas."

“I'm not that strong. I struggled swinging it."

“True, but I think I can remedy that." She started lifting the sword, grunting with effort but she couldn't get the blade tip off the ground. She may have looked like a normal kobold, but she was clearly still weak from her torture.

I stood beside her, putting my hands over hers to help before I realised what I was doing. We both looked at each other at the same time, our muzzles bumping. We both giggled this time, then lifted the sword, pointing it ahead.

Then Vala sang a single note and I felt the blade shudder. Her pitch slowly changed, drawing higher, the vibrations increasing and it started getting painful to hold. At its peak, Vala sucked in a breath and screamed that tone at the blade for a few seconds, and the blade snapped cleanly in two, leaving a blade a little shy of two feet tall. Vala let go of the grip, and I followed suit.

We began taking strips of cloth and belts off of the human, including the potion he owned. I tied the remains of my dagger belt together as a knot, making a serviceable sword loop. I pulled it over the man-kin's belt after using my dagger to punch a hole so it would fit around my waist. With the blade itself, we wrapped the thickest part in cloth and tied it off with leather strips made from the excess belt material. I sheathed my dagger and new sword.

“Alright, Lalep, let me get a look at you." Vala said, stepping back. With arms akimbo and fists on hips, I puffed out my chest, trying to flex what little muscle I had.

I felt foolish and started slouching, but Vala smiled and winked at me. I felt like I was a wall-shattering dragon again.

“Very striking! You look every part the dragon saving, villain slaying hero. Like something from a story; Lalep the Bold, a kobold worthy of a ballad!" She clapped her hands.

“I'm nothing special. I mean, I'm a scout but it took me like... ten tries to get accepted, but I'll do everything I can to get us both out of here. C'mon, we've been here a while now. I'm worried some of the other man-kin might turn up."

“I should be able to sense them, even as a kobold. I admit my senses are a little fuzzy after all these years trapped, but I can sense you just fine now. Still, I agree; after you, my hero." Vala bowed as I took the lead. The passage was small, likely only just a few inches above typical man-kin height, leading to a number of intertwining caves; I recognised them and it felt like I was on a scouting mission again.

“Crag-biter tunnels," I whispered, “but look; there are torch fixtures, so I'm guessing they've abandoned the place, either because of the humans or... there may be a way to the overcave! They hate the light, even collapsing passageways that go even near it, so there must be somewhere exposed to the overcave. We can follow the torches to the human compound if needs be, but we could see if there's another way out. Best keep quiet though; the biters can hear real good."

We headed down a side tunnel, growing more relaxed with the lack of webs, and slowly began getting a feel for the passages; they double backed, weaving about as they always do, some were so small we had to walk single file or even crouch, and while I was starting to learn where we were with each turn, I once more felt the fatigue setting back in, the lack of sleep fogging my eyes and slowing my senses after a few hours of roaming.

Even so, exposed and lacking a place to hide, we pressed on with Vala close behind me. The warmth through the rock from the volcanic springs soon gave way to the cold, and it became especially frigid down one tunnel; the chill of the first season. Following it, I finally saw light ahead; starlight.

“There. At least we can be certain there's no crag-biters here. I doubt the man-kin will pursue us either; the amount of tunnels we could hide within would give us too much of an advantage, so I feel certain we have time to prepare." I said, my breath making wisps in the air. I looked at Vala, who had folded her arms and was shivering. “Hold on, let me help."

I held out a fist and extended my middle and little finger, forming a ring with my index finger and thumb; flames dancing within the brazier, Kugu described it as, then turned my wrist and clenched my fist, then opened my hand. A warmth flowed through me, filling my body and extending through my limbs.

I put my arm around Vala's shoulders as we moved on, and she huddled close.

The starlight was twinkling through a collapsed section of the cave roof, some two hundred feet high but the walls were jagged, spiked and sloped up at an overhang; climbing would be extremely difficult for me, let alone Vala being as weak as she was. There were more crag-biter holes all over the chamber though, dozens of small openings.

“Tsk, drake-shit, we'll have to find our way back..." I yawned, the warmth making me even more drowsy, “to the man-kin lair to escape. It's the only way out I can think of, using the portal I came through."

Vala looked at me and put a hand on my chest.

“You've done enough for one day, Lalep. You'll be no good against those humans like this. I'm not sure if we can take a chance just sleeping on the floor though."

“We could hide in one of those crag-biter holes; they're hatching pits." I pointed to the openings high on the walls. “It'll be quite a climb, though."

“Heh, you're silly. Apparently you've forgotten already." Vala shrugged and stepped away, glowing, her form enlarging back to a dragon. It was impossible not to be awestruck again, more so when she wrapped her fingers around me and lifted me up.

It was exciting, shaking some of the fatigue away and feeling her gentle grip on me, and she brought me up to one of the many holes before opening her fingers, supporting me in her soft palm.

Inside was ample room for the two of is, but cosy enough that my body heating spell would be able to fight off some of the chill.

I climbed inside, and Vala reached in with one of her slender fingers, which was as long as I was tall if you included the claw.

“Hold on to my hand and don't let go." She whispered, and I did as instructed; she glowed again and shrank, moving in on where she held the entrance. It was a unique feeling, her scales moving in on themselves in my hand as she shifted back to kobold form, and I pulled her into the opening, and we huddled together, a full body hug to help get my heat to Vala, arms and legs around each other.

“I think I could get used to this." She sighed.

“Y-yeah, it's nice, but... I mean, you're a dragon, and I'm a kobold. It's not right."

“I'm not much of a dragon, Lalep. Don't think of me as one. I'm undeserving."

“You said you were a monster, but you seem nice. I don't get it."

“That's kind of you to say, but... that human. His name was Sullivan, and he was right to hate me. His village, I-I hurt people there. People who didn't deserve it. I didn't know what I was doing." Vala brought her head back and saw the confusion in my face.

“Let me explain; I made my lair at the shore of a coastal village called Crayfield. They were simple folk, decent as humans go. You... you saw my power at work with Sullivan; my voice has power. They call me a siren."

“Yeah, you held him in place, trapped almost; sort of like how you were."

“That's a fair comparison. I can command people, kobolds and even dragons to do and feel things as I say, from making people calm, or numbing pain; all sorts of things, good and bad."

“You screamed at that man-kin and knocked him over, too."

“Yes, we can't breathe fire or ice like dragons around here but we can amplify our voices until they cause more direct harm. If I was in better health, I could break stone with a shout. Anyway, I just tried to coexist with the humans at first, and it was fine; I could tell them to keep away if they drew near, and they would, and when they were attacked by other humans, I would help them. But something changed over time. They seemed to think I was a human saint called Valarie, and I responded to it to appease them. I didn't want them to know my real name."

“Why?" I asked, and regretted it as I felt her tighten her grip on me and she looked away.

“I can't say, it's... I'm sorry, Lalep, but that's something I don't want to talk about. I don't even want to remember it. It's bad enough what I'm about to tell you. How as the people visited me more, and asked me to help protect the village, they... they started losing their own wills..."

“Um, boss? Vala's account's detailed, if brief and it's a lot of what Sullivan mentioned. However, Caladar has a section of when he found her."

“Interesting idea, scribe. It would be good to get an opinion that lacks emotion, or a soul; just facts."

* * *

Caladar's Journal

Vantersday, 26th of Burning Cloud, 2nd Season, 1528

Subjects #87 - #102 are close to processing. They are responding in the typical ways; each suffers from fatigue and a general malaise from their blood being replaced with the magic infused concentrate, and they're likewise compliant to my use of draconic commands. In two days I will extract them in full and preserve their corpses ready for feeding the next batch.

I will soon possess draconic sight; I find myself spending more and more of my time looking at the eyes of Bythaerig, a juvenile dragon, fresh from his mother's lair, and count my blessings; to locate such an easy drake to slay and collect material from... I doubt I shall encounter such fortune again. The thought of plucking my eyes out one at a time and replacing them gives me pause for thought, but the results will be worth it.

Note to self: I can afford to reduce the ratio of drakes-mould to kobold pulp now that I have refined the process. The concentration of magic per kobold easily outweighs the need of actual sustenance, and even the illness it invokes can be cured by standard, cheap remedies as drakes-mould becomes more and more expensive. It was a useless novelty to most, but Jenners has grown wise to my custom and has inflated his costs out of greed.

Addendum: inform the authorities to Jenners' narcotics trade. He will no doubt demand the guard search my estate but I shall secure and disguise the entrance. I will find another willing merchant who travels the eastern hills for drakes-mould.

“I regret this already..."

“Just remember, scribe; he's already dead and his ilk will suffer for their barbarism."

I met a man by name of Sullivan with an interesting story today, hailing from the tiny village of Crayfield, an insignificant backwater situated in Goshev's north-western peninsula. He claims to have located a dragon that has overtaken the populace, breaking their wills and supplanting them to her desires.

I didn't put much stock in such a thing; dragons are capable of bending humans to their will by fear, or even some degree of mutual compliance in a few rare cases, but only kobolds are susceptible to active commands. I told him I would think on the topic and look through the manuscripts Vincenzo left after his death, if for my own enjoyment rather than believing the notion of such a drake.

Garegsday, 11th of Vaulting Star, 1528

I've been malignant in keeping this journal updated. Vincenzo always said the draconic ego could take a scalecaster in subtle ways and keeping a log was crucial, yet here I am, acting like a mage's understudy. Still, I am of sound mind, having spent the past two weeks reading every book I could carry that made mention of the reclusive northern drakes.

These dragons, the Karoe-vur-Draxae, or dragons of song, are almost unknown to the world at large, and with good reason; they force people to forget about them. I've pieced together a number of accounts of travellers, envoys and officials braving the Kophra Road and reaching the secretive Vhakram Republic, a people notorious for only allowing outsiders to visit three towns on their southernmost border under heavy policing.

These reports, some from turncoats and a more substantial example from a Goshevi spy, depict a classification of dragon that shouldn't have survived against their southern cousins; they lack wings, have softer scales and are physically weak, about as strong for their size and mass should be, rather than our local drake variants who are supernaturally powerful. I suppose there's also some amusement about how these dragons operate behind the cover of this 'Republic'; pawns spouting the words of their masters.

You sometimes hear tales of sailors being sent crashing into shallows and rocks in far away places by alluring voices and it has given rise to the idea of sirens as beautiful aquatic women living in coastal caves. All efforts to prevent invasions from the storm-wreathed Nosalba Sea and to the untrained eye, appear as an everyday shipwreck, and it seems that these sirens are quite at home in the water as well; Vhakram is well known for its wet climate and hilly environs, rife with floods and so without the ability to fly, sirens are strong swimmers.

This clear connection to Sullivan's story has brought me here to Crayfield. True to form, the people here are completely subservient to the siren, whom they have branded as the resurrected St. Valarie. They wake at dawn to offer tribute, going through their usual routines in constant reverence of her instead of the usual lip-service most offer the Six.

More interesting is the presence of a white kobold, a female that roams at night, peeking about the homes in clear distress, returning many of the tribute items. I've never seen nor heard of a white kobold before. I shall try and capture her.

Valarsday, 13th of Vaulting Star, 1528

I have her, trying to flee Crayfield at night, and once more fortune has blessed my works; she IS the dragon. I don't know if she noticed my presence or this is typical behaviour of her kind, but to have such a rare specimen, with a spell I've never heard of before, allowing her to change to and from a kobold form at will, who is even more susceptible to curses (I theorise her own affinity to sound based magic manipulation, another weakness compared to the self-element immunity of our local drakes), and is now obediently being carried in my supply wagon with Sullivan keeping watch. He has joined me in my task and will be my first non-scalecaster test subject for developing draconic powers. With a source of dragon blood in tow, I can foresee great things in my research.

I will house her in an old kobold clan grounds I found on the South-Eastern slopes of the Goshev's, one I have access to via portal (all this time since Greshvan academy, and my old arcane major still bears fruit), which used to tax me greatly, but drake blood makes a tremendous replacement for my own manipulation of magic. I even know an alchemical formula for forming blood crystals from it, again from Vincenzo's work, which prevents wastage and improves longevity.

All I need now is time. The utopia of man and dragon awaits.

“Hmm, that's insightful, scribe. Good work. Right, back to Lalep's version of things."

“It sounds like she really didn't want to... oh, never mind."

* * *

Lalep's Tale

“... that's why I've chosen the name Vala. To remind me of the horrible things I've done. I wish I wasn't a dragon, so I could just stop hurting people and live a simple life." She sighed and her hold on me tightened.

I squeezed her back, but I was at a loss. I understood she was upset, but it was hard to sympathise; man-kin had always been my enemy when I was being raised. Former Underboss Figin would sometimes say we used to barter with them, but even he said they were thieves; scum who would cheat us and take advantage of us if given the chance. My experience with overcavers was made even worse by this whole mess.

But I suppose in that moment I realised she had every reason to hate them as well, yet she didn't. I also had to keep reminding myself that she was a dragon, smarter and wiser than me, so she would know better than some runt of a scout. Maybe I'd figure it out in time.

“Oh, but listen to me ramble on." Vala said. “I'm sorry, Lalep. I've been trapped inside myself for so long, it just feels nice being able to talk again but I'm probably boring you. Tell me about yourself! A kobold as brave as you must have some stories."

Try as I might, I really couldn't think of what I'd done that was worth telling a dragon.

“Not really, no. Well, I mean the clan has tales, but I'm just like any other kobold. I follow orders, my boss is Scout-Master Kugu, I chart new tunnels, look out for trouble and fight crag-biters sometimes, but that's about it."

Vala held me away just enough so we could look each other in the eyes. I doubt I could describe them and do them justice; like polished steel in colour, with shades all between that and dark granite, but each is like a flawless gem as well. I suppose I'll never be a scribe.

I felt her breath on my muzzle as she sighed.

“Don't sell yourself short, Lalep. I saw how you fought Sullivan; you weren't even focusing on the fight that much, yet you were dodging him with ease. It was incredible! You're amazing!"

Right then, without any dragon potion, I felt as good as I ever had. It was like Figin believing in me, Tuha thanking me for a job well done, Kugu not complaining about me messing up in some way after I'd finished my duties and getting the last bowl of stew, where all the flavours were the richest and the meat was so soft it would just melt on your tongue, all in the same moment.

“I guess the best I can say is that our old Underboss said he saw I had talent, and everyone respected him. Besides that I'm just a scout, though."

“Underboss? Things are gonna get a little... um... like the first time."

“I'll endure, scribe. I'd rather get things over with."

“You're so much more. I know I said it before, but I'll say it now, tomorrow, and the day after that, and every day for as long as I live. I owe you my life and..." She squeezed me tightly.

“Thank you. For everything."

I felt Vala's hands run over and up my back, just the hint of scratching, and around my shoulders then along my cheeks, holding my face. Then, after a few moments of stillness, she ran her tongue against my muzzle, pushing through my lips and I opened mine, our tongues brushing against one another's. I could taste her; it was strange that my mind told me to expect those gritty fish, but it just tasted... good, clean, right. I was overthinking things again and soon I just angled my muzzle so I could get deeper with my tongue, feeling the sharp points of her teeth and her breaths meeting mine.

Bringing my hands down, I wrapped them around her hips. I felt myself grow erect and I tried to pull away but she just looked at me, giving the slightest of nods, and I knew it was alright.

It was difficult orientating myself, but I rolled over on top of her, looking down past her smooth, soft belly scales and saw her cloaca part, a dark grey opening of soft and welcoming flesh, glistening with the hint of starlight peeking in from outside.

She gasped as I lowered myself, gentle and gradual, as I inserted myself into her and her eyes narrowed as she shivered with every flick of every prong of my cock pushed past her inner ridges. She gasped as my hips met hers, and when I tried to pull away, she pushed against me, dragging out every retracting tug between us, extending the feeling.

It was so different than last time; there wasn't any instinct, or magic besides my warmth, or curses. I just wanted her. More importantly, Vala wanted me, and just me as a kobold, not a dragon or as someone who had a turn in the mating halls, just Lalep. I took back what I thought before, about feeling the best I'd ever done. This surpassed it, as she looked into my eyes, and I looked back into hers, and we stared for a moment. Then another.

Then I pushed into her again, pinning her shoulders against the rock and we both moaned as one. Simple and gentle as I rocked back and forth in her, the quaking of her voice as she stared, the rise and fall of her chest, the subtle shape of her slim muscles beneath the white scales flexing and twitching with my motions gave me such a warm feeling beyond the magic flowing in my blood. I felt whole, complete. Maybe more. I felt stronger, so I acted on it.

I paused for a moment, gripping her arms and pinning them beside her. Vala gave me a cheeky grin and I leaned down to her and we lapped at each other in the throes of lust before I let loose; one final exertion against my creeping fatigue. I had my speed, and I used it. I wanted to give her all of what I was.

With one last lift of my hips, I sucked in a hard breath and started a rapid tempo. I felt her wriggle beneath me as every single flange on my dick raked inside of her, and instead of having time to breathe between each thrust, or even time to think, she started a long, amative groan. I was worried I'd gone too far, but her toothy smile, the spittle dripping from her mouth and onset of squealing kept me trying faster and harder as my scales began to poke out, but I wanted to prove myself to her, and that alone held me back from cumming.

Her scales flexed as my exhaustion dug deep, cutting at my resolve, but I wouldn't stop, at least until she screamed so loud all I could hear was a high pitched ringing.

She shook violently, her arms pulling free as I hit my own peak, although my cry as I came was nowhere near as loud but the feeling and sensations made up for it; the warmth in me peaking, the gushing inside her flooding with her ejaculate. I remember her claws scraping the stone as I collapsed into her, and she mumbled something in a blissful gasp as her arms wrapped around me, but I still couldn't hear her properly. I blacked out and fell into the deepest, most comforting sleep I could have hoped for.

“I assume the humans remained as per their discussion? Did anything of note happen? They must have heard her."

“They stayed there on alert and did hear her, Underboss, but they didn't move. The only thing that happened was Moda being bled. Looking at Caladar's notes, it's... oh, All-Dragon..."

“Don't worry, Scribe, let's proceed with Lalep."

Blazing white.

Sheer brightness pulled me from this blissful sleep. It was daytime, and it took me a moment to realise I had been asleep for six hours, a deeper sleep than I'd ever had considering the normal four a kobold gets.

I could feel Vala in my arms still, but I'd jolted when I woke, and Vala began stirring as well.

“Lalep? Wha- EEK" Vala shrieked, my earholes ringing for a moment. It took a few moments for it to fade again. “Oh. I'm sorry. Hold on, help me climb out." I felt her move and I rocked about to give her room to stand, then she pulled me by my hand. I could hear her claws on the stone as she guided herself, then the sound stopped and Vala took a deep breath.

“Okay... hold me tight, I'm going to lower myself out and change back. I'll be able to see and I can help you down."

I nodded, then laughed at myself; neither of us could see. “Sure thing, Vala"

“Alright, let me brace myself." I held her hand in both of mine, pressing my feet against the sloped opening, letting her step beyond. She was shivering, which seemed odd until I also realised she couldn't fly like any other dragon I'd seen or heard of, and we were pretty high up as well.

“Alright, let go." With a final sharp suck of air, we both released, and I felt my heart skip a beat.

When my heart thumped again, I felt a vibration through the ground, and a harsh, hissing growl.

“All-Dragon's tail-hole, that hurt!" Her voice echoed through the opening.

“Are you alright, Vala?"

“Yes, I'm fine. I was never very agile. Remind me if... when we get out of here, and if you're willing, if you'd teach me how to move like you do. Prepare yourself, I'm about to grab you."

The light dimming, the air moving around me, and her fingers wrapped around me, just long enough to fully encircle me. I couldn't help but feel a tingle down my spine and through my tail. Being grabbed by a dragon was death, or being shouted at, or burned or melted or whatever. This feeling though, with the softness inside her palm, the fine scales on the outside, and how slow she pulled me from the hole.

It was exciting, but soothing, being held like this. She was so powerful, so big, yet so careful and gentle.

Vala brought me to her chest and walked on three legs, and I could feel her heartbeat, a slow and heavy thump; how big would her heart be like this? Bigger than I was, that was for sure, and then the swell of her lungs as she breathed. As the light dimmed further, enough for me to see, as she started an awkward crawl, which stopped as I patted her.

“It's alright, you can put me down now, Vala. Thanks." I said, and I was more than a little disappointed as she placed me on the ground. I looked up at her as she craned her long, graceful neck around to look at me, and I was amazed again.

I swear, I'll never get tired of seeing her this close. I reached for her, placing a hand against her snout and she poked her dark grey tongue against my wrist. The distant light behind her once again reflected off of her glittering fins, casting shining fragments against the walls.

“Silver light..." I mumbled and Vala tilted her head, inquisitively. “Both back in the chamber where they kept you, and now... it's like you're glowing silver."

“Oh." Vala did glow and shrank down to her kobold form. “Forgive me, was it too bright? I was too large to continue anyway."

“That's not what I meant. It was... really nice to watch, like the reflections of water or... or something." I scratched the back of my neck as she smirked. “I'm talking nonsense, don't mind me."

Vala, using her height and the fact I was looking at the ground, dabbed her tongue on the top of my head, rested her muzzle between my horns and her arms around my shoulders. Then my stomach growled and I realised I hadn't eaten in days.

She tittered and said, “that makes two of us, I just didn't want to make a fuss when we're still in danger."

“Well, as Scout-Master Kugu always told me; a scout only needs sustenance and his wits and he can get out of any situation. Plenty of tunnels here, hopefully we can find some rodents. I guess, worst comes to worst, we could always retreat back and get some of those fish."

“No!" Vala snapped, her voice rippled the air. “Never again. I doubt I'd stomach normal fish, let alone those.. ugh. Besides, they made me sick more often than not, and I'm a dragon! They could seriously harm you."

“Uh... rats it is, then."

Vala made a face but nodded after a few moments. We started further down the tunnel and I checked the walls for any small holes, droppings, or anything. It seemed that the best place to find rodents would be nearer a source of food, and the only source of food I could think of besides the fish was whatever the humans ate.

We reached the tunnels with the torches and I couldn't believe our luck; tucked beneath one of the fixtures was three bulbs of sticky puffball.

“Perfect!" I barely withheld my glee and crouched down by the blue spherical fungi. Using my dagger to cut the stem of the blue-covered, spherical fungus. The blue coating stuck to the blade of my dagger, and I pulled it off with my mouth. Flavourless, chewy and if you had any loose teeth it would pull them out, but packed with enough substance to feed a kobold for a day. I plucked a second with my dagger and held it to Vala, handle first. She took it, eyeing the puffball with horror, as if I'd just handed her one of her own organs.

“Goh obn," I said, or tried to, “itsh gooh fou you."

Figin once said that trust was the best trait kobolds had. Everyone in a clan would trust each other and most of us didn't even really know what locks were until you learned about humans taking prisoners as part of being captured or capturing them in turn. Our weapons would just be sitting there on the rack, same with armour, food and everything needed in everyday life. Nobody would steal; another thing humans did to each other.

A dragon though? To trust a kobold that wasn't theirs? She swallowed her nerves and popped the puffball in her mouth, dragging the dagger out and started chewing. I couldn't help but smile as I continued munching on mine.

“Shee? Itsh awright, eh?"

“Ihf you shey shouw..."

We shared a laugh, an honest and simple one. All troubles, seriousness and even attraction fell aside; we were just two hungry kobolds sharing a quick meal and enjoying each other's company. I chewed and savoured the near flavourless mass, postponing the fact that once we swallowed, we would be walking back into danger again. I had no choice; Vala's life was on the line. Mine too, I suppose, although I at least could try and climb out of the openings back where we'd slept, even if it was unlikely I could make it. I couldn't abandon her, though, I'd rather die with her, and I thought of Moda, and I added revenge to the list of reasons to not act like a coward.

With a gulp from both of us, I fiddled with the grip of my sword to make sure the binding hadn't come loose and looked down the tunnel, at the torch fixtures, the proof of our enemy. The worries flowed back into me; I'd only slain Sullivan thanks to Vala, and there were more foes ahead, and they had almost certainly dug themselves in. I'd injured one and killed another, and even if it was pure luck, I doubt they would take me lightly.

Vala squeezed my shoulder, and licking the last traces of blue ooze from her teeth, she beamed a big, pretty grin.

“We'll make it, Lalep. There's a proverb they always said in times of strife back home; many are the victor who understand the strength of those with seeds, water and time. We just have to put what we know, have and must do and we can overcome anything. You have your skills, your weapons, your magic, your-"

“Um. I only know that one spell. Kugu says I need to grow some more to learn others."

“That's nonsense. Mother would teach groups of kobolds how to cast spells based on magic they can already use by expanding on the basic premises they had learned. You know, I've always been jealous of kobolds; you're so flexible, friendly and skilled. I used to dream of being one back when..." Vala's breathing went shallow, and for a moment, when I looked at her, her eyes were distant. She looked at me again and gulped, calming down.

“I dreamed about being a kobold and one day, I awoke as one. It's my only spell, but my kin don't really learn spells like kobolds can, or southern dragons even. We learn songs that do tremendous things. It's how my mother taught her kobolds, so I can do the same for you. Or I should be able to, anyway."

“That sounds great! Okay, what do we do?"

“Right, so, you can make yourself warm. I'm guessing since you're invoking flame internally, I'm hopeful we can make you create heat elsewhere. We can make it easier by using something you know already has an affinity to fire, so you can envision the flame."

“Oh, that's what Kugu says! I imagine a brazier and a flame with my fingers then 'crush it' into me. You felt how cold it was last night, and that's normal for early spring. The winters are really something; it's not uncommon for Crater-Vale's entrance to get frozen over."

“Hmm." Vala clicked her tongue and tapped her chin with her finger. “Now that I think about it, that body heating cantrip must be a southern concept. It's mild where I live, lots of rain for the latter half of the year and basins that turn into lakes. We 'sirens' do a lot of swimming because of it. Our kobolds would just wear waterproof clothing if they worked anywhere near the surface and that protected them from any sort of chill."

“We do the same, but with furs and warm clothes. Kugu says the scouts have to travel as light as possible, which is why we learn the spell. Gotta rely on skills rather than equipment!"

Vala pointed to a nearby torch and moved behind me, resting her head on my shoulder and putting her hands on my chest and belly.

“So, just focus on the torch. Imagine the heat inside of you, compressed and condensed into a single point. Picture it flowing into your arm. Point at the torch, Lalep." She said, her voice blanked out all other sound, but I could feel them.

Taste them.

Smell them.

They nourished me.

Whatever she desired, I wanted.

Her words.

My life.

I raised my hand.

I pointed at the torch.

I felt the fire inside.

Flowing.

The torch hissed.

“No!" Vala pushed herself away, breaking me from... whatever that was. “No, what am I doing!?"

“Vala? What's wrong?" I said and put a hand on her shoulder as she shivered and shook her head. “Please, talk to me."

“It's-it's like before! I'm twisting people, breaking them, making them do what I want! All I've ever done is hurt people with my power!" She turned to me, clutching her hands over her face. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

I hugged her. It always made me feel better, and she lowered her hands and held me back.

I wish I knew what to say, like Figin always seemed to know, or how to seem like everything would work out. I trusted her, I trusted she wasn't going to hurt me, so I started there.

“I... I mean, I agreed to it. You aren't forcing me to do anything. Even Emperor Firaegin tells us that you can't manipulate the willing when it comes to leading the humans. He's made some of them agree to let dragons into their towns to talk, and that's never happened before, or so I've heard. If you can make me more able to fight, Vala, I want you to do this." I took one of her hands, holding it tightly as I held it up between our faces and broke the hug.

“Please, Vala, teach me. Make me stronger."

She looked between our hands and me, grimacing, then nodded. She walked behind me and once more rested her head on my shoulder.

“Focus on the torch. Feel the fire run down your hand. Point your finger..." Vala stopped, her breathing shaky.

“It's alright," I whispered.

“... imagine the fire leaving your fingertip, travelling through the air, into the torch."

Once again, her words hid the world from me.

All I felt was her body on mine.

All I heard was her voice.

All I saw was the torch.

All I knew was the energy within me extending beyond my finger, through the air, and enveloping the blackened wood, which smouldered, then burst into flame.

I tried to be humble. I really did.

“All-Dragon's... thingie!? I cast a spell! A real spell!!" I bounced around the cave like a kobold half my age that had eaten a bag of sugar. I felt the need to anchor myself, so I grabbed Vala, lifted her off her feet, and spun around.

“Wait! Wait!!" Vala's voice, although not commanding, snapped me back to reality. I put her down and she sighed.

“You did cast a spell, but it means nothing unless you can cast it by yourself." She walked to the lit torch and sniffed the air, looking down at the floor. We both saw the last puffball sphere sizzle and smoke a little.

“Oh, yeah. Sticky puffball burns in light. It's flammable too. Underboss Kaja says it's made from the 'magic that exudes from dragons who live nearby, gifted back from the earth to us kobolds to assist dragons as part of the cycle' or something like that. He's real smart, but a bit grumpy."

“I guess I really have been here a while... “ Vala shook her head and looked back at the torch. She sang a long note and the flame flickered violently before being snuffed out. I couldn't help but be surprised that was even possible, my jaw going slack before Vala stepped to one side.

“Right. So, like you did it before, focus on the torch and cast your spell, but try and push the heat from yourself to it."

I first tried exactly as before, pointing and focusing. I looked and felt an idiot when nothing happened.

“You're a scout, right?" Vala smiled at me. “You scout areas and draw maps?"

“Uh... yeah?"

“How do you go about it?"

I sucked in a long breath.

“When we explore a set of caves, we follow every left turn until reaching a dead end and repeat with every other tunnel in sequence, marking chalk on the walls on each one as we turn back, noting how many paces it took to reach the end. Then we mark up a chart for the azimuth scaling from the entry point with a length of string coloured differently every koblong (which is three feet), wall pins, a liquid vessel with an air-bubble and protractor. Once we-"

Vala raised her hand making me stop.

“Ah, okay, more involved than I thought... uh, the point I'm trying to make is, Lalep, is you have to build into it, step by step. Try casting the normal spell but hold just shy of actually finishing it."

I nodded and went through the motions; making the brazier and flame shapes with my fingers, turning my hand over, and paused when feeling the tingle in my arm, the magic trying to change shape and purpose, become fire in the blood. It didn't feel right to stop it.

“Throw the flame." Vala whispered.

I started clenching my hand to finish the cast, but at the last moment, I flicked out my hand, pointing to the torch. The magic in my arm surged, flowing through my arm, feeling red hot and I winced, but it pushed, flying, gathering speed!

A tiny puff of flame popped into and out of existence in the blink of an eye and a wisp of smoke where it singed the end of my claw.

My spirit sank.

“Yes!" Vala squealed, thrusting her arms up, then clapping.

I shrugged and slumped before saying “that was awful. It barely did anything."

“You created flame with thoughts and a flick of your fingers, Lalep. How many kobolds do you know that can make fire like that?"

“None, I guess. At least none I've seen or heard of. Underboss Kaja says kobold magic is mostly focused on inside than out, but the old Underboss, Figin, could make light that floated like a firefly, but brighter. That was pretty unique, but he based that on a kobold spell guide we had in the library. Oh, but he could turn people wobbly and stretchy! Nobody'd ever heard of spells like that."

“Well, best keep practising, hmm? We'll make Figin proud."

“Boss, Lalep describes in detail every step of his trial and error casting the spell. It took him an hour."

“Fine, we get the idea."

I thrust my hand, the burst of heat cracking off the blackened shell of the torch as the flame caught on the wood beneath in a burst as big as an apple. Vala wrapped her arm around my shoulders.

“Congratulations, Lalep. You've learned a spell!"

“Thanks to you, Vala!" I held her back. I felt drained, but fulfilled, like the first time I'd ran the Crater-Vale hub run; three full laps, end to end, over a mile in less than five minutes. It just reminded me we still had so much more to do to escape. “As much as I hate to say it, we should push on."

“I suppose so." Vala sighed, but winked at me. “I'm ready if you are."

“Yep. Let's go."

We pushed on, following the trail of torch fixings and occasional sprouts of sticky puffball, which I helped myself to another to perk me up after all that casting, until I heard the sound of rushing water. The tunnel narrowed and I could see the stone bridge I'd fallen from ahead, plus a single opening to the side; a crag-biter captivity knot, which was a series of circular tunnels with a hole in the middle, where they hang excess animals and kobolds for later eating and throwing anything not edible into the hole.

The man-kin had turned it into a laundry room, with the hole now a well and a stock of soaps, buckets and spare rope strewn about, even a few more fungus bulbs growing in a corner. I guessed maybe Caladar himself might be draconic enough to spawn them. I was just distracting myself, and once more moved for the bridge and I saw one of the humans, in full plate armour, a full face helmet with narrow eye slits, a sword on his hip, holding a shield and an axe, standing guard in front of the door. I could see no way to approach without getting seen, just the path across the broad bridge.

“Oh no... that's Grigori!" Vala whimpered, “I remember him; he's the one closest to Caladar. He's a dragonhunter! Why couldn't I sense him..."

I rolled my shoulders and marched ahead. I was through hiding, anyway.

“Remember when I said about the man-kin part that would work out later? I want to combine Lucas and Lalep's accounts for this."

“Lucas? Wasn't it Grigori who fought Lalep?"

“Lucas found the body later and it helps confirm what Lalep did, and it covers everything until Lalep escapes. It's also more entertaining since I can combine details."

“Entertaining? Why- Tsk, Fine. Let's wrap this up. All sources as necessary, scribe."

* * *

Lalep's Triumph

“Maurice, it's your turn to listen." Lucas said. “Grigori's gone outside to keep watch. I'm sure you'll be glad to know I heard the siren calling outside... it sounded lustful. I'd say our escapee has beat you to the punch."

Maurice's face spoke volumes. The ever-present grin sank a little, then grew wider again and he tilted his head, the curls flopping to one side.

“I'll get mine. I trust you have the resistance potion?"

Lucas dangled the small bottle by its cord in front of him, and the youthful looking man took it, standing and adjusting his armour.

“Just remember; if Grigori calls out, summon us and we'll deal with the pair of them together. No fucking around."

“Of course, Lucas. Who do you take me for?"

Lucas mumbled as he removed his armour to get some sleep and Maurice headed down the main corridor, reaching the chair set up by the front door and a stack of books resting beside it. The bridge section beyond the door was just big enough that the dragon might change back to her natural form and potentially take out anyone outside, but she'd be pinned in place.

The compound had been warded by Caladar to resist the vocal assault the siren could project, meaning they were safe, but they couldn't hear much inside, just knockings on the door.

They only had limited use of the portals before the last crystal expired, maybe a week at most. Moving into the tunnels would be foolish as well, as the twisting maze beyond would be perfect for a kobold as crafty as the escapee to either sneak by or ambush them.

No, they had to play it safe, at least for now. With Caladar nearing the end of his new type of draconic essence, made from the hybrid's blood and refined by gradual introduction of the spare portal crystals.

Maurice sat down, took up a book about the myths and legends of the All-Dragon, and settled in. He grinned at the door, then opened the cover. He wondered if he would even hear the knock, being engrossed in such a heavy tome.

Not that it mattered. The signal would go unanswered. All for her.

Beyond the door, Grigori acted every part the professional. It was all he could remember.

He had watched for kobold and dragon attacks for decades, almost a century, although usually with a hunting party, and while he would have certainly passed on from old age without the blood doping, he was still looking for the telltale signs, however unlikely, as he had done since he was a squire. Ambushes from the dark, perhaps even attempts to distract with thrown rocks to divert his attention or missiles, thrown or loosed. It was one entrance, or a near impossible climb up to the bridge from the thrashing river below, both of which were in his sights.

He kept his shield raised across his body, hand tucked into his belt to help ward off the ache of holding the metal braced barrier yet keeping himself protected from crossbow or thrown dagger. His helmet was sturdy, with the full-face visor lowered; he learned to keep his breathing slow and firm and was used to the stifling air within.

This day, he would not be ambushed like Maurice. He would gauge the threat, consume the potion on his belt to ward off any control from the siren, and capture or slay them both as necessary.

It was all the more surprising when the yellow kobold paraded with confidence onto the bridge and stopped midway. He had a sword, or the snapped blade of one, bound with cloth and leather straps, which he drew from an arrangement of belts around his hips. It simply affirmed Grigori's earlier assumption that this kobold was a scout; craftier, if not necessarily stronger than the soldier caste, but more dangerous. Probably the most lofty position a kobold could reach besides their chiefs.

Then he saw the siren, in her kobold form, a blurry figure on the edge of Grigori's own imperfect dark vision. He took the bottle from his belt, pushing the narrow neck beneath his visor and quaffing it without lowering his guard or breaking line of sight and drawing the axe in his belt. The foul, bloody concoction sent a numbing sensation through his mind and the low tone of rushing water becoming distant before his senses acclimatised to the subtle transformations within. Grigori then hammered the door behind him with the haft of his axe and marched across the bridge.

The kobold snarled, mostly in Vlieden, “Do yourself a favour, man-kin. Throw yourself off the eraxhem bridge or get the eraxhe out of our way!"

Grigori snorted and said, “got some stones on you, drakeling. It'll be refreshing to fight one of your ilk after so long just tying them up and bleeding them like piss-poor cattle."

“I'm gonna kill you. For Vala, for Moda, for however many kobolds you've tortured and murdered! Then I'm gonna do the same to every man-kin through that door! Dexa cu Ous-Draxae, I swear it!"

Grigori didn't dignify the kobold with a response, or swearing on his precious All-Dragon, just advancing, shield ready and axe raised.

Lalep brought his sword high and across, braced to parry, but remembered this man-kin from before; the axe wasn't coming first.

True to form, a booted foot swung from beneath, Lalep turned his body and stepped once, letting the leg pass by, then dived through the gap, slashing at the inner thigh. Scraping metal and little else to show for it, the kobold let his momentum carry him into a backward roll between the humans legs, lashing out again on the back of the human's other knee to similar disappointment. Grigori turned, leading with his axe in a low arc at the kobold's face. Lalep dipped beneath the swing, thrusting his sword against the human's body, knowing it wouldn't do any damage, but using the blade to push himself back.

Grigori completed his turn, braced for another rush, only for Vala to scream into his back. The wave of force shoved him off balance, with Lalep launched himself into an upward stab of his sword toward the neck of his foe. The sword was deflected as Grigori threw his shield arm up for balance, knocking the spry kobold aside, yet the human's follow-up, a haphazard swing, met only air as Lalep once more caught some distance with a skittering of clawed feet on stone.

“Nimble little bastard." Grigori cricked his neck. “Nothing I haven't fought before, but not bad. What's your name? I want to note it down; a kobold that wasn't a complete and utter coward." He chuckled but his tone was dry.

Lalep looked about, hoping for something he could use to get an advantage, such as pockets of dust or gravel to throw, but the area was clear, even of loose stones. It had to be on purpose, Lalep guessed. He then looked at Vala, who, having caught her breath from the shout, began to sing.

For a moment, the human seemed to go slack, his arms dropping and his head tilting, but then he chortled again, turning to look behind him for a split second before focusing back on Lalep as Vala went quiet.

“None of that, kobold fucker, you wait your turn like an obedient little whore or I'll let Maurice have his way with you." Grigori rolled his shoulders, glancing at the door and grumbling before staring at Lalep. “You might remember that one, runt. I heard he quite enjoyed you nearly taking your little friend's cock up your arse."

Lalep snarled and charged and the human set his stance and raised his axe. The littler fighter responded, throwing his legs forward and dropping into a slide. The seasoned dragon hunter took a knee, blocking the path with his trailing leg and slamming the shield down on top of Lalep, pinning him. Little claws and the butt of the crude sword raked and hammered as Grigori exposed the kobold's head. Lalep saw the axe flick high and begin to swing, and freed his sword arm in the last moment, just catching the haft and steering the head away from sinking between his eyes, cleaving a small chunk of his cheek instead and a little spray of blood for the floor.

Grigori grunted, lifting the axe again, his foe trying to wriggle for a moment before, with a flash of movement, Lalep's footclaws digging into the wood of the shield and he pushed, lifting it just enough to free his other arm, dagger in hand, held by the base of the blade, point down.

Before Grigori could begin to swing a second time, the dagger was hurled like a dart and wedged itself into the eye slit of his helmet. In a panic, the hunter stood and yanked the blade free with his shield arm, and the kobold growled as he only saw a tiny spot of blood on the blade.

Grigori cussed under his breath and dropped the dagger, shaking his head and began his next charge, only the kobold switched his method; he began hopping about, almost dancing, undisciplined. The human remained on guard.

“Now, Vala!" Lalep bellowed. Grigori flinched, quickly looking at the white kobold, who looked as confused as he was, and only by instinct raised his shield as Lalep was already in the air, surging at him with another vicious thrust. The kobold reacted in turn and grabbed the top of the shield, finishing his stab, but a reflexive twist of Grigori's head sent the blade askew, grazing the sturdy steel. Undeterred, Lalep took a broad swing, a solid clang ringing from the impact only to receive a punch from the axe-blade across his chest, forcing him off and seeping blood through the damaged scales.

As soon as Lalep hit the ground, Vala screamed again, but the dragonhunter was barely affected. Lalep retreated, taking up his dagger in his free hand, breathing steady.

Grigori was breathing harder, tilting his visor up to suck in a few clearer breaths of air, exposing bloody cut on the bridge of his nose.

“By St. Vanterre, I haven't had this much trouble with a dragon or kobold in all my years. It's exciting." He chuckled, far more jovially than last time. “It'll be more fun if it's just the two of us, though."

The human suddenly ran at Vala, who shouted once more but barely slowed the approaching human. Lalep sprinted after him, catching up as Vala darted back down the tunnel. The yellow runt leapt and started climbing the human's back, reaching his shoulders and attempting to stab through the armour with the dagger. It breached the chain, earning a grunt, and Grigori threw his shield up and near his head, cracking against Lalep's muzzle and once again sending him sprawling.

“Wait your turn!"

“I won't let you hurt her!!" Lalep spat blood, scrambling to his feet and rushing at the human again. Without the fear of any real harm, Grigori just kicked back with his heel and barely broke his stride. Vala dived into the side chamber as Lalep dived at and staggered Grigori, pushing him beyond the passage and beginning another climb up the human, who responded by charging the stone wall back first, crushing the kobold against it and making him drop his weapons. Vala darted out and rushed towards the bridge, turning and glowing, taking up more of the wide but shallow bridge chamber, crouching as she enlarged.

“Oh." Grigori grunted as a long, slender foreleg drove down the tunnel. He dropped his axe and grabbed Lalep, diving through the door and hurling the kobold against the well, but Vala had grabbed his shield. He managed to unstrap his arm and pull free, drawing his side sword as Lalep struggled to his feet, catching his breath.

“Let him go or I'll tear you to shreds, Grigori!" Vala growled.

“You can't do fuck all, whore." Grigori called out. “You scream and you'll bury the both of us, you change and I swear I'll stick you like a pig and rip your kobold fuck toy to pieces before you die. Sooner or later, my allies will come out and you'll be cursed again and forced back into your lair! You've lost, you just don't know it!"

Lalep wasn't wasting words. While Grigori had his head turned to shout towards the corridor, he'd vanished behind a wall and was rooting around for some way to fashion a weapon, looking at the buckets, some filled with water, spare well rope, bars of soap, sprouts of puffball growing to one side. He glanced at each and a morbid smile crossed his muzzle. The kobold would indulge as a kobold should.

Cowardice and cunning. Pragmatism and practicality.

Grigori remained on guard, cursing Maurice's betrayal. It didn't matter; he could last the remainder of the four hours before Lucas awoke, and he'd check outside, rouse Caladar and bring this to an end. He just needed to remain vigilant, fend off the unarmed kobold. The dragon had trapped herself; as a dragon she couldn't risk the might of her shout or even move, and as a kobold she would need to approach and put herself in harms way.

Grigori slowed his breathing, calmly filling his lungs and holding his breath between each pass of air; trying to pinpoint the kobold's location, mostly out of curiosity, but he wasn't concerned. He heard the sound of wood creaking, splintering. The slosh of water.

Suddenly, a clank of wood on metal as a stick bounced off of Grigori's helmet and tumbled on the floor, rattling and bouncing on the stone before coming to rest. He looked down and laughed.

“What, are you trying to annoy me to death? Go ahead, play your game."

Another stick. Grigori shook his head, tutting. Another impact, but no clatter on the floor, but before he could dare to look, movement in the shadows. Then another projectile, striking with perfect accuracy. Between his helmet and lack of shield, he couldn't see the projectiles to dodge or deflect them, and even if he could, he worried he might miss the kobolds attempt to flee while his head was turned. He simply had to wait for the runt to get bored.

Another strike, but after a few seconds, one of wood and stone. Grigori risked a look down; the stick was smeared blue on one end. He grumbled, confused.

“What's your name? Grigori, right?" The screechy voice of the kobold from the dark.

“Aye. Yours?"

“Lalep. Clan Crater-Vale."

“Good. Makes sense why this was so difficult. One of the cunt emperor's own. An unnatural freak who's willing to crush and slay whatever he wishes while spouting his bullshit about peaceful coexistence. Your dragon's a greedy hypocrite and a thug, and Jaraesi's nothing more than a beast, an animal, a fucking monster who's slain hundreds for her own amusement, but I guess at least she hasn't raped the minds of fifty people like your pathetic mate, Lalep. I bet you'll enjoy falling away as she eats your resolve and leaves you a simpering toy like all the others."

“How many of my kin have you murdered?" Lalep snarled, “how many dragons!? Who the eraxhe do you think you are, spitting jorn about Emperor Firaegin!? He's trying to stop the killing on BOTH sides! He wants everyone to have a fair chance and a peaceful life! How many kobolds have you sacrificed for that monster, that skin-rag Caladar, for his twisted magic!?"

“Not enough!! It'll never be enough! You're a fucking blight, you scale-swine bastard! Come at me and die with some fucking dignity!!" Grigori flinched and braced as Lalep came into view, thrusting his hand in the human's direction before sprinting across the chamber and grabbing the well pail, dragging it with him. The air grew hot around Grigori's head, his unnatural dark vision blurring with normal sight as flames flickered around him. He reached for his head to remove, only to have his hand stick, blocking some of his view.

He then pulled his hand from the gauntlet, only to watch liquid flame trickle into the eyeslit, then a instinctual wipe of his sword arm smeared fire onto that as well.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!!" He shook his other gauntlet off, losing his sword, and fearful instinct took hold. He ran past the well, remembering the kept a few buckets of water for fires, then through the nearest opening, before his feet slipped from under him, landing in a soapy puddle, too shallow to help. Flames filled his vision, and a his panic had him grab his helmet to pull it off, covering his exposed hands to the burning puffball slime as they stuck to each other.

Grigori screamed in pain and terror, as Lalep darted to recover his dagger and sword, then charged for Grigori as the human struggled to douse the flames on his hands on the puddle, then stood with a final act of defiance. The kobold, with no need to worry about a shield, axe or sword, tackled the back of Grigori's leg, toppling him with his face in the dirt, scrambling up the human's back and stabbing his dagger into the shoulder for grip, finishing with slapping the flat of his sword into the human's neck. Grigori turned his head to look at his foe; pink, furious eyes staring into the human's smaller, brown own. The sword stroked Grigori's neck and blood gushed on the soapy water, some spraying on Lalep's face.

“For Moda. For Vala. For Emperor Firaegin. For Crater-Vale. And just because you're a fucking murderer!" Lalep whispered and spat on the fading human's face, staring so he could he focus on the dying light in the human's eyes until, at last, Grigori passed away.

Lalep climbed off of the human, breathing the angry fire from his lungs and calming his mind as he wiped his face. He stood, sheathing his blades, and left the chamber to check on Vala.

* * *

Kaja's Chamber

Kaja finished writing the section and loosed a heavy sigh. Sura turned to him with a raise eyeridge.

“Boss? What's wrong?"

“... I guess what Lalep said really is true." Kaja flipped a few pages back, re-reading some earlier parts without letting the newest page touch the next. He screwed up his face and held his head in his hand for a while as Sura watched.

“It must be her... it has to be..." he muttered.

“I don't get you, boss. Lalep's as good a candidate for becoming Exemplar as I've ever seen, and you're still upset. Drake-spit, you're even more upset now."

“Let's... just get this done, scribe." Kaja grumbled and opened a new bottle of ink.

* * *

Lalep's Triumph

Lalep turned the corner from the still burning helmet and gauntlets of conquest, full of confidence, a deep seated knowledge that they could, and would, escape. Grigori was a true threat, a dragonhunter, a skilled foe. Lalep didn't do it alone, he realised, and that was even better; Lalep and Vala. It had a nice ring to it.

The dragon shrank once more into her kobold form, and applauded her companion. Lalep smiled for a moment, then gasped.

Behind her, an armoured figure swatted her on the back of the head with the flat of his sword, grabbing her before she could fall, and put the edge of his blade against her neck.

“No changing, oh sweet Valarie! You glow and I'll be forced to put an end to your beauty. Hmm. I'm guessing poor old Grigori's dead?" The human peered down the tunnel, but Lalep was seething, teeth bared moments after his sword and dagger came to his hands. That voice; the human that had mocked Lalep, the way his hand slowly stroked Vala's body. The dragon had her eyes clenched shut but she was conscious, grunting and disgusted, but afraid to move.

“He's dead. You'll be too if you don't let her go!" Lalep hissed.

“No. She's mine, at last! Valarie's always been mine. Ever since she sang to me... way back then..." The human sighed, wistful and melancholic. Lalep began to circle around, causing the armoured man to pull his blade nearer Vala's neck. “No! You stay where I can see you!!" His voice was fierce, rabid, then calm and placid again. “Forgive me, my precious Valarie... I don't want to hurt you."

“Maurice...?" Vala slurred, “I've never sung to you."

“Oh, but you have." Maurice giggled. “You have! Such a sweet song. I was but a child when you sang it, but I remembered it. Recited it. Carved it into my mind. Sing for me, Valarie! Please!"

“You're from Crayfield?" She gasped as the clarity sunk in. “I'm sorry, please! I didn't mean to hurt you!"

“You didn't hurt me, my precious Valarie. No, you showed me how beautiful the world really was. Showed me your power, the love and devotion you're owed. But you need a greater audience than some lowly kobold, my dear, sweet Valarie!" Maurice lowered himself, pulling Vala closer, nuzzling his helmeted head against her cheek as her face twisted into revulsion.

“Send him away and I'll spirit you to freedom, and we can live together! Nobody else has to be hurt! I'll happily leave Caladar... Oh, even better, I'll kill him for you. A peace offering!"

Lalep's mind turned and flowed, he looked at Vala's pleading eyes. Maurice laughed and, chillingly, sang.

“O light of mine, come walk with me,

to see the world of majesty,

'cross hills and vales so gracefully,

from here, now to eternity.

“Together once we wed."

“My dove, sublime, come to my side,

my love for you I cannot hide,

our spirits bound as eyes grow wide,

my lips go dry, and I'm tongue tied."

“Yet some things must be said."

“Forever mine, as it should be,

and days spent oh so whimsically,

as they are spent beside with glee,

oh come my love, please do not flee."

“I've got you in my head."

“I'll take denial in my stride,

your panicked breathing as you cried,

your true feelings I shall abide,

but you'll stay with your heart belied."

“Despite your rising dread."

“Your spiteful words, mere sophistry,

you're mine, by will or painfully,

I'll silence you, lest you agree,

be mine forever, as fates decree."

“...or maybe it ends tragically,

from your body, hewn an effigy!

And I'll sing a mournful elegy!

Just side by side in entropy!"

“Together, forever, dead!"

“Just think of the songs we could sing together, my Valarie..." Maurice grabbed her muzzle and turned her about, face to visor. “We'll be perfect together... it's me or nothing. Me or your little friend, who I'll ignore defiled you, dies too."

Vala sniffled.

“I... okay, Maurice."

“Vala, no!" Lalep cried out and his arms slumped.

“It's alright, Lalep. Just like before, when you were pinned," Vala turned her head, a tiny flicker of a smile on her lips, “Whatever it takes to get free. Everything else is up to you."

Lalep looked at his dagger, then sheathed his sword. He had to trust her.

“He can go once we've escaped, my dearest Valarie... for our love!" Maurice said, his tone revealing what his appearance could not; obsession, just like Vala had said. The gentle tone was sickening to Lalep and he understood everything she'd said earlier.

“I... just need to see you, Maurice. Let me see the love in your face, your eyes."

With eager speed and desperate, clumsy hands, Maurice flung the helmet off, his face bathed in sweat and chin sticky with saliva. Vala reached up with gentle hands, resting them on his shoulders. He leaned down, reaching in for a tender kiss, and she reciprocated; her muzzle opening, her tongue flicking about, moistening her mouth, taking a smooth, slow breath.

Then screamed as hard as she could.

Maurice was pushed to standing, staggering, arms flailing to catch his balance as his nose gushed with blood, his skin splitting and, piercing through the madness and his obsession, realised he was dead. A pin-point of steel filled his view as he opened his eye, just like the first time he crossed Lalep, and a yellow blur approached once more.

An arrow of unerring accuracy. A streak of violence. A bolt of lightning.

By the time Maurice blinked, or sucked in a breath, or coaxed his muscles to even flinch, a dagger pierced his remaining eye. Maurice stumbled back, screaming, clutching at his face as Lalep plucked the dagger out and drove it into a cheek, a chunk of mouth and several teeth, lopping off part of a nose as the human staggered backwards towards the bridge handrails. A final stab drove the blade upward into the already missing eye and through socket so deep it lodged in place as the human collapsed over the bridge railings off the same spot Lalep fell from before, down to the hungry, rapid waters below. Lalep kicked off of the falling body, and deftly rolled beneath the rail, bloody but victorious.

Vala ran to her companion before the sound of the splash, offering a hand to him. He stood and they embraced.

Lalep couldn't help but lift her from the ground and give her the tightest hug he could.

Vala's smiled, relieved, but it sank in rising sorrow.

“I feel... felt sorry for him. Despite everything, it's my fault he was like that."

“I... I understand, Vala. About Crayfield. I get why you don't want to sing or command, and I won't force you to do anything if you don't want to, ever."

“Thank you, Lalep. Again. Still, I guess the hardest part is yet to come; I can't sense these humans, they feel 'neutral' in magic."

“Neutral?" Lalep released Vala and they moved apart, hands clasping.

“Yes. Humans normally feel like an emptiness of magic, and kobolds as if there's a tightness in how it flows near you. He was something in the middle. I don't think I'll be able to detect any others, but hopefully I can sense Caladar; he's potent yet weaker than a true drake, but everything I can sense from that door is a blur of magic and... worse."

They both looked at the door, then each other, nodding, then approached Caladar's compound. It was shut, but unlocked, and Lalep opened the door as slowly as possible, peering inside and letting his eyes adjusting to the light within. A chair, some books and the same long corridor he'd fled down twice, but no humans. Lalep pulled Vala through, closing the door and moving up to the passage wall.

There were voices ahead.

“It doesn't matter, Lucas. Even if we have to uproot it wouldn't be difficult to continue elsewhere," Caladar said. “The essence extraction method created with 1,363 was a success and the hybridisation was almost flawless. I confess I hadn't considered the mental adjustment. Even if we lose Sullivan, there will be other assistants, and with luck, ones able to resist the damage sirens inflict; it's clear that both he and Maurice were growing worse by proxy of my own developing powers with the dragon's blood. A miscalculation which I caught too late, nothing more.

“For now I want to focus on inducing this essence into me as slowly and gradually as possible so it doesn't go to waste. With luck, the restorative will allow us to draw further essence from 1,363 and I can dilute it once we capture another kobold for the dope."

Lalep's eyes bulged and he looked at Vala.

“All-Dragon's blood! Moda's still alive..." He whispered.

“Who-" Vala began, but Lalep gestured for quiet.

“Look, I'd just be happier if we can lock everything down. I'm also voicing my objection right now that if we start messing with Crater-Vale, we're going to get in big trouble real quick. The tunnel's ready, sure, but we need to be careful."

“I concur, but if we can capture a few kobolds and process them the same way as subject 1,363, I can make all of you far more potent before they can investigate their missing number. If the hybridisation is repeatable, it will more than compensate for the escape of 1,364."

“1,363's Moda, right?" Vala shook Lalep's shoulder, drawing his attention. “Who's that?"

“He's the one who helped me escape. They've tortured him, turned him into some sort of dragon kobold mixed thing. Vala... I have to try and save him!"

Vala looked conflicted and Lalep knew why. He knew it wasn't a smart idea to risk lurking longer than necessary, he should return and warn Crater-Vale that these bastards had plans to kidnap more of his people, no doubt by the tunnel Lalep had fallen through. Everything he had been taught, everything logical told him to cut their losses and flee home.

But the pain and torture Moda had suffered. The screaming and cracking filled Lalep's mind. He had to try. Vala was studying the pleading look in his pink eyes, or perhaps she was reading him as a dragon could. It didn't matter as she sighed and nodded.

“I... understand, Lalep. Neither of us would be here if it wasn't for him. I'll help in any way I can."

Lalep's eyes twitched, flickering about as his mind conjured and constructed a map of the area in his mind and what he remembered seeing, as a good scout should, then nodded to himself as it all came together.

“I'll create a distraction. I don't remember there being much water around here and they draw it from the well outside. I can start a fire in the a bunk room, the first door on the right, full of blankets and beds and such. That should lure at least one of'em away. Opposite is a storage room. If you hide in there and you can watch for when they move through, and if both pass by, you run ahead and we'll meet up in the mess hall, that's the second room on the right.

“I'll go ahead and try and find out what I can about where Moda is and if I can free him. Drake-spit, if I get a chance, I'll take out Caladar, but don't worry! Only if I'm sure I can do it.

“If all else fails, the portal is at the far end and right at the room with all the glass jars and stuff. Use the crystal in the plinth on the top of it and try and activate the portal opposite the entrance; it'll lead to a chamber and a ramp, climb it and head right and you'll probably run into a patrol from Crater-Vale. Tell them what's happened here. They'll help you."

“A-alright." Vala pulled Lalep's head to hers, pressing their foreheads together. “All-Dragon protect us both."

With quick lick on her muzzle, Lalep pulled away and peered around the corner once more, leading Vala into the storage room once he saw the way was clear. Within, the stacks of barrels and crates, spare blankets and foodstuffs gave ample spots for Vala to keep hidden whilst also observing the corridor and settled on a gap between barrels and draping a blanket over the top, blocking the view from human height.

As he turned to leave, he saw the remnants of his armour; it had been stripped down, the dented plates were strewn about near some tools and the chain mail cut into pieces. How different Lalep felt now, bare but armed, compared to hiding behind armour; he had been unleashed from being coddled. He was an adult, a scout, a warrior of his people.

Lalep also had a job to do.

He crept to the bunk room and began peeling off any burnable fabric and stacking it in one corner, away from the footlockers and chests; Kugu would pry off Lalep's scales if he burned more than needed when there could be so much to learn from these overcavers. It was a distraction, not sabotage, and no doubt the emperor would like to know everything about what was going on here.

Lalep glanced down the corridor a few times, only catching view of Lucas, as well armoured as the others, moving some jars and containers in the lab.

With a nice burnable pile as high as Lalep was tall, the kobold weaved his flame spell in a flourish of familiarity; it was becoming second nature, and even though she was only a short distance away, it made him miss Vala, but more than anything, it stoked his determination. The puff of flame, now roughly the size of a kobolds head and lingering for half a second, caught the dry, favourable material and Lalep steeled himself for his approach to the lab.

Sword in hand, Lalep gave a confident smile into the storage room despite not being able to see Vala in her cover and darted down the corridor, his expression turning grim. Doubts flared and sparked in his mind but Moda's suffering quelled them; he was going to do this. He was going to succeed

Lalep glanced behind him as smoke started emerging from the bunk room, and moved into the next opening on the left; a foul smell that he hadn't really identified before emerged from within, beyond the hanging flag, there was a wooden box with a hole on the top that was chair high for him in what could be only generously called a small room. He couldn't help but peer within and winced at the presence of a pot holding excrement, suddenly thankful his puffball breakfast was a small and easy to digest; of course man-kin had latrines, and of course they were disgusting. Kobold waste didn't smell too much unless you crushed it, looking like semi-hard shelled, dark and earthy stones.

Lalep heard the clinking of glass, the low creak of soft leather and clank of metal plates, then a sigh.

“Bloody... fuck this." Lucas grumbled, followed by footfalls down the corridor. Lalep pinned himself into the near corner of the latrine and Lucas entered, fighting with his belt.

“Fucking armour... c'mon." A belt unclasped, a helmet removed and placed down beside the hole as Lalep realised he had an opportunity. Lucas breathed a glorious sigh of relief as Lalep drew his blade, planning his moves; a leap onto the box, the helmet, the opposite wall

Then Lucas started sniffing, turning his head.

“What... ?"

The human stepped nearer to Lalep, blocking him in to his corner so close he could feel the warmth from the human's leg. The trickle slowed and stopped, and without taking his helmet, Lucas left the room.

Lalep sighed with relief of his own, even greater relief than the human's own.

He knew better than to move now. He pictured his foe in his mind; seeking the fire, raising the alarm to Caladar, then looking for his allies and heading for the well for water to douse the flames.

“Shit, we've got a fire here! Maurice! Maurice...?" His voice grew distant as the door opened. “What... oh shit!" Stomping, panicked strides getting closer. “Caladar!!"

“Stop running in the lab," Caladar demanded, but in a flat tone. “What's all the commotion?"

“There's a fire in the barracks! I can't find anyone else and it's gonna spread if we don't hurry!"

“Confound and damn it all! And at the most crucial time. Fine, lead the way."

Two sets of steps passed by, but soft leather slippered feet stopped in sight beneath the curtain. Lalep froze, staring, as they turned towards him, and Lalep tightened the grip on his sword. Fighting Caladar would be the worst outcome, but if need be, he would try.

“What is that... sensation?" Caladar muttered.

“It's fucking bad, boss!! Come on!" Lucas bellowed. The slippered feet once more turned down the corridor, and Lalep dared to peer out. He saw Caladar, the sleeves of his red robes raised, almost pointless as his hands were caked in dark red as well, but the pair left the compound, leaving the door open. Lalep dashed to Vala's hiding spot and beckoned her, only delaying long enough to see her climb out before dashing up and into the lab.

The lab had changed in subtle ways with one glaring exception; there was a noticeable void on the central table besides a single bottle with numbers; #1363.

Moda's number written on a stained paper label. Lalep sheathed his sword and compared the bottle to the one tied to his sword belt. It was a little bigger than the essence potion yet lacked any rope or twine, just a single stopper made of metal and cork.

“There's a LOT of magic emanating from that bottle, but it feels... wrong. Like a dragon's power but twisted." Vala mused.

“Moda told me about these skin-rags; they bleed and drink kobold blood and they've been experimenting on our kin to make it better and stronger. If Moda's alive... and this came from him, maybe I can give it back! Or at least destroy it, stop Caladar from drinking it."

“Alright. Go, hurry! The portal's are this way, right?" With a nod, Vala began heading down the passage. Lalep pulled the bottle off the table, holding it as one would their own child; it felt as important as a hatchery egg, complete with feeling more weighty with the onus. Lalep carried it down the corridor with the prison, a second door that had a single bed and a load of books, and lastly a large, braced door and the scent of blood, but somehow worse, permeating from it.

Despite the danger, Lalep was worried about what he'd find beyond. He pulled from his reserve of courage, put the bottle down, and pushed the door open.

He was glad his hands were empty.

Within lay the leather strapped and iron chained form of Moda, the twisted hybrid of dragon and kobold, motionless on a large and sturdy stone dais. Without fear and panic taking hold, Lalep could take in what he'd become. Physically imposing, muscular and not too different from Emperor Firaegin's mighty build, but stuck in a seven foot long, orange scaled body with a tail of equal length. His main horns were longer, similar to Kaja's long own, but the flukes had grown uneven, some a little longer than normal and others were almost normal looking secondary horns.

His mouth was pried apart with a metal brace, exposing Moda's uneven, sawlike teeth. There was a metal tube forced down his throat that connected to a funnel high above with a half empty vessel suspended over that, with a murky green liquid trickling its contents through a narrow spigot controlling the flow. His wings were ungainly lumps of muscle and skin, vestigial and misshapen, leaving him a cruel facsimile of kin, somewhere between kobold and dragon.

The room was littered with tables, benches, stools and wooden panels on the walls, all holding instruments, blades and tools. Lalep recognised a few of them from the alchemy lab and healers room. Rust brown stains coated most of the floor, with walls speckled and even a patch on the ceiling, although some fresher patches were around the dais, around Moda's neck.

“Hang on Moda, I'm sure this will help!"

If Lalep needed to get this essence back into Moda, he needed to reach that funnel. He moved a stool beneath the apparatus, heaving the bottle on top and climbing up, then removing the vessel and swapping it with the essence bottle and reaching for the spigot and giving it a quick turn, the trickle turning into a slow pour.

“What the-" A voice from the doorway snapped Lalep into motion, reaching down and flinging the half empty vessel across the room and with decisive accuracy into the face of a surprised Caladar.

“ STOP!" Lalep froze in place as Caladar's words cut through him, causing his muscles to freeze. The drake-blooded human's face was grazed and bleeding with the green substance clinging to his face, some shards clinging as others were sliding off.

“You little shit!" He growled, wiping his face with a sleeve but he continued to squint. He bared his teeth, all pointed but short, and bellowed, “ remove the essence bottle and bring it to me!"

Lalep tried to resist. Every fibre of his being tried, and failed, only making him twitch as he obediently removed the now half empty bottle of Moda's drained power and carrying it over to Caladar, who continued to wince and squint down at the kobold.

“ Give me the bottle!" He snarled, hand outstretched, not looking as he continued to mop his brow.

Lalep handed him a bottle. Caladar grimaced and brought the bottle to his lips.

“Did you really think you could sabotage me? A minor setback; I shall enjoy developing more from your malformed body, subject 1,364." The draconic man began drinking in heavy gulps.

Lalep felt a little control return to him, which he spent succinctly; a smug grin and an extension of his middle finger at the scalecaster.

He raised his other arm, holding the essence bottle, and threw it to the ground with a dramatic crash. Caladar gagged on the mouthful of potion and froze. His fingers traced the rope corded around the neck, at the draconic might potion in his hand through bleary eyes, and as his body began to tremble and swell, Lalep bolted past his legs.

“No. NO! STOP!!" The order again rang as an echo through the halls, once more bringing Lalep to a halt, only to be met with the most joyous of sounds.

“ Lalep! Come to me!" Vala cried out, renewing the freedom in Lalep's body. Caladar's body continued to twist; his horns grew, a muzzle started forming, his robes drew tight on his increasingly powerful frame, but most damning, his head loomed near the ceiling and drew closer still. Lalep dashed through, receiving orders from both sides but making quicker progress than the mutating human could muster as words failed him from the new form of his face.

Lalep and Vala met in the portal room, with the passage home secure, and both ran.

Only for a ringing tone to freeze their blood cold.

“I won't... let you..." Caladar, a grotesque and bulbous dragon of patchy red, white and beige skin, clutched a tuning fork between his finger and thumb. He struck it again on the floor.

“I curse you both!" He screamed as his body took up the corridor, becoming stuck. His drooling muzzle sneered with his human teeth being forced from his jaw, a dark and foreboding cunning in the human's red, slitted eyes. Vala's own grey eyes went wide, a stark realisation, and she looked to Lalep as tears began to form, and screamed at him.

Lalep was pushed to the floor, his hearing filled with a shrill ringing as Caladar continued talking. His body was growing against the passage, pain forcing its way onto his malformed expression, and Vala stood, hands covering her ears, shaking her head and weeping, mouthing 'No! No!'

Then she grew still, her arms fell to her sides and, with eyes still open, collapsed in a dead heap.

Lalep could begin hearing just in time for Caladar's cracking bones and an ominous rumble to sound from his swollen, still growing body as it failed to breech the unforgiving stone surrounding him. Blood poured from his twisted grin before, with a final crack, he also stopped moving.

Vengeance had been attained, victory as he'd wanted absolute, but as Lalep's eyes grew wet as he looked at the silent, still body of Vala. Victory meant nothing. Less than nothing.

He crawled over to her.

“Vala. Vala! Wake up..." He wept and shook her gently, but she didn't respond. Just open, unmoving eyes, a trickle of her own tears shed before collapsing wetting her cheeks. He could think of nothing else, no great plan or scheme. He just held her.

“Please wake up! Vala!!" All the bravery. All the triumph and victory. All the heroics. He would trade it all for her, but that wasn't to be. He was a child again, alone and useless. His body heaved with racking sobs, freedom a stones throw away, but it might as well not exist. He had failed.

The faintest wisp of warm air graced his wetted cheek. He held still, afraid he'd imagined it. Another, gentle as the weakest breeze like the wave of a nearby hand.

“V-Vala?"

No response, but Lalep put his ear to her chest. The tiny murmur of a heartbeat.

He looked up at the portal, lifted her, and ran through. The broken chamber beyond was still a mess, but the path was opened, and the slope up treacherous, but Lalep didn't care. Nothing mattered without her, and he would fight his own kin to save her. He had to.

He had nothing else left.

* * *

Kaja's Chamber

Sura sniffled, drawing Kaja's attention. He was upset as well, but not for the same reasons.

“It must have been heartbreaking seeing her like that. I hope Emperor Firaegin can save her."

“Sura... return to your duties and thank you for today" Kaja blew on the ink as the scribe looked at him with wet eyes.

“Oh. Okay, boss. Did you need anything else?"

“The only one who can complete these reports is Vala herself, and by extension, the emperor since as he's been delving into her mind. I'll go and inform him of your efforts today and present our findings." He stood and closed the ledger. He didn't wait for Sura to collect her things, he walked straight out the door and jogged down the hub.

It had only been a day since Lalep returned with Vala. The emperor demanded the miners find the portal and dig through the rest of the compound, which yielded the journals from the partially burnt bunk room. The full might of the mining team had broken through to the mess hall from the portal room in mere hours, securing a route into the compound proper through to the mess hall and circumnavigating the deceased scalecaster's body. Caladar was to be carved into pieces and burned in Marfield's royal square, with the emperor himself offering a grim warning against the savage and vile profession.

There had been no Moda, but his blood and some torn scales were present from his escape. Lalep's efforts to save him must have worked.

Likewise, they hadn't found the remaining human. Not yet, anyway. They would certainly find him, most likely in the caves if there wasn't some other hidden exit, but they were playing it safe by having Sergeant Tuha lead the hunt in a gradual way, clearing individual tunnels and placing soldiers at each junction.

Kaja reached the Emperor's lair, finding the similar scene as he'd left; Vala, while still unconscious, now looked to be at peace, sleeping rather than lifeless. Lalep gave Kaja the briefest of glances as he continued to cradle her and Firaegin loomed over them, his eyes glowing as he focused his power on the cursed dragoness. Jaraesi, lounging as she often did, looked at the Underboss as he approached.

“Blessed mate, your expected guest has arrived." Jaraesi said with a lazy sigh.

Firaegin's closed his eyes for a moment, looking fatigued, but regarded Kaja with an indignant snort.

“So, Kaja. What conclusion have you uncovered? Is Lalep indeed a false champion, worthy of scorn or exile? Shall I have him beaten and broken for daring to waste all of our time in attempting to save a kobold, so revealed to be a dragon, from distress? Is his success, however assisted by the ailing Vala, so inconsequential that to grant Lalep the position of Exemplar a foolish sentiment?"

Kaja felt the sting of his accusations and threats being cast back to him, the very things he had said before storming out of Lalep's retelling, clutching the culmination of his folly in his arms, in the ledger he had spent hours writing Lalep's tale. He needed to confess and try and explain what he'd discovered, but not in the present company.

“My Emperor, may we talk in private?"

Firaegin nodded, standing and turning to Jaraesi.

“My precious Jaraesi; I have done all I can for Vala and she now needs time to recover from the oppression of her will. It's unlikely, but should she awaken in my absence, please keep her calm and offer her sanctuary; if she desires food, water, anything, summon help. She is welcome to leave if she wants, but I need to talk to her first."

“As you wish, blessed mate." Jaraesi smirked, though far softer than her usual predatory and grim way. “I must say that I rather look forward to having a peer to converse with. Most talks with other dragons in my years were more fierce war cries and threats than banter and discussions like with you. A new challenge will be welcome." The powerful but still gravid dragoness adjusted her position to better observe Vala.

Lalep, looking ragged and still covered in patches of blood, only looked up as Firaegin lowered his head to him.

“My subject. Stand." Firaegin said and Lalep hesitantly obeyed, his hands lingering on Vala's form before he stood before the emperor. “Vala is free of her curse, she is merely exhausted from her ordeal, just as you are."

Firaegin pushed the magic from his form, the area becoming thick with power and reducing his size to a quarter of his usual hundred and eighty foot length. With a wave of his hand, Lalep's size enlarged by the same degree, leaving the diminutive kobold a towering figure around ten feet tall. With the size difference narrowed, the emperor pulled the kobold into a firm and friendly embrace.

“Lalep, for your bravery, your cunning and your victory; I will name you as clan Crater-Vale's Exemplar, if you wish it."

“I... I's do, my Emperor. For saving Vala. I's being at your command." Lalep said, pressing himself against the broad and powerful chest of Firaegin. Kaja couldn't help but feel jealous at the attention, and could see a nostalgic smile on the great dragon's face.

“Please go, get some rest. Lalep the Bold, my champion, Crater-Vale's Exemplar..." Firaegin's smile broadened with every word. “I will need to talk with Kaja and then, once she awakens, Vala in private, but I shall reunite you as soon as possible." The pair separated and their true sizes returned with but a wave of the hand from the Emperor. Jaraesi shook her head and rolled her eyes, smirking to herself at the scene, and Kaja realised that he was no better than she; ignorant and dismissive.

Lalep walked away with a weary stagger, but not before looking at Vala once more, a subtle smile finally forming on his muzzle, and he left the lair. Firaegin placed his hand to the ground, allowing Kaja to climb on, and the pair took flight through the exit tunnel in the roof of the chamber.

It was a short flight through a bitter cold evening and worsened further by the thinning air as the emperor flew above the Goshev mountains, the sun dipping below the western horizon and casting enough light to keep Kaja's eyes closed tight despite the shade offered by the massive hand around him. The emperor landed heavily, still inexperienced with the gentle, subtle way that Jaraesi would so as to not announce her presence, ever the huntress. Firaegin always gave the excuse that he preferred the dramatic effect it provided; an initial burst of fear to make the dragon's genial attitude stand out and to keep others guessing.

They were on the eastern slope of the highest peak, away from the sunlight and Kaja both hear and feel the warmth of one of Goshev's many volcanic springs.

“Raise your arms, old flame, I don't want to see your hard work soaked and ruined."

Firaegin placed the underboss in a shallow stream of water as the kobold opened his eyes and let his eyes adjust to the darkening skies.

“I admit I was tempted to order you to remain when you first stormed out of my lair." Firaegin sat and sighed, a light crackle of energy forming from a haze cast from his nostrils. “I hope that I know you too well to assume this was some petty slight against Lalep, so I want you to explain yourself."

Kaja placed the ledger beside the stream and tried to collect his thoughts. The area was simple, but soothing; behind him, the water he was immersed in gushed from a bubbling spring at the base of a high cliff and down a natural chute and past a boulder that split the stream in two and fell further down below, all surrounded by shale and larger stones. A few hardier plants grew here and there, but it was mostly monochrome besides Kaja and Firaegin.

The expanse of drier land to the east was a placid earthen mix of greys and browns that yielded to the ocean beyond and to the north east, beyond the low and well protected basin city of Marfield, the isthmus connecting Goshev to Greater Vliechov filled his view with a perfect demonstration of his own thoughts; on his left, the tumultuous and chaotic lands before his life as a kobold to his left and the calm seas of Kaja's unclear and boundless future to the right, with his master in between, passing judgement.

“I'm sorry, My Emperor."

Firaegin shook his head.

“None of that, Kaja. Not here. You know who I am."

“Firaegin. I did what I must to protect Crater-Vale from what I thought was a threat. I first thought that Lalep, a kobold that you and I both know has a place beyond the others in your heart, had fooled you, made you put your guard down because of your trust. I know you can read us, as any dragon can, but I thought that perhaps your focus on helping Vala might have clouded your judgement, made you complacent.

“Then, as I realised the truth about this Vala, or whatever her true name is, and the danger she represents as a dragon... you said you were reading her thoughts to help find her and pull her free from the curse, but from what I've read from the humans that held her and through Lalep's own understanding of her powers, I feared she may have been able to shield herself with her duplicitous and conniving powers after turning Lalep's thoughts to her own ends."

“Ah, so the accounts of the humans, most notably this Sullivan fellow and the crazed Maurice have convinced you that she is a danger to Crater-Vale. I understand your concerns, old flame." Firaegin brushed a claw under his chin as Kaja looked up at him, confused.

The emperor chuckled, continuing, “oh, don't give me that look. You have to realise that I've seen much of Vala's own soul through this and all she experienced with Lalep. It was crucial I understand all aspects, and even some of those have been clouded; it's as if she's so afraid of what she has seen that she, herself, refuses to accept them. Most of all, though, is that I know she is a danger to herself and others."

“Then you must take steps to protect us from her!" Kaja clasped his hands and said, “I don't mean to insinuate to slay her, but certainly to keep her silenced or-"

“Vala's heart was a void." Firaegin looked north, across Vliechov. “She was another dragon's mate, perhaps a little too young for her own good as she was barely out of her adolescence, but the details are lost to the clouding in her memories, but she was not cared for. She was a tool, a weapon to protect a selfish drake far to the north."

Firaegin looked back down to Kaja with a smile.

“She was quite like Jaraesi in a sense, but instead of in the form of perfecting herself to become unstoppable as my mate once did, Vala was twisted into what befell Crayfield. It was all she knew, to spit commands to protect herself, unaware of just how powerful her words were. She understands this now. You should too, if you believed Lalep's story.

“Yes, Vala's heart was a void, but you should see it now; it swells with her desire to be better because of Lalep. The two of them together... they will truly be formidable working together, and I know that Crater-Vale will be stronger because of it.

“Thus, we return to the original crux of your anger; you do not trust Lalep. You have sought to undermine his achievements, his destruction of a real and insidious threat against our people. You wanted him to be little more than an observer to Vala being the true force behind defeating the humans.

“True, Vala greatly assisted Lalep in his ordeal with her powers, however diminished, but mostly by instilling confidence in him in his own abilities that I knew he's always had. When pared down to the simple facts, Lalep nearly assassinated Maurice outright, even whilst injured. If Lalep wasn't exhausted by Vala's magic when they mated and if she wasn't about to be threatened by Sullivan, Lalep would have almost certainly been victorious. Caladar was different, but even when the scalecaster had Lalep under his control, Lalep found a way to sabotage his plans. If Vala hadn't helped him escape, Lalep still would have prevented Caladar from imbibing the essence he had taken from Moda.

“Most importantly he fought Grigori, a veteran dragonhunter, to a stalemate. A one on one fight, with Vala all but nullified, and Lalep stood toe-to-toe with him. You were a dragon once, old flame; you must have been wary of hunting bands, perhaps heard tell of these groups as they would cleave their way through whole clans of kobolds and slay dragons in their lairs. Lalep even succeeded through a scout's most tried and true method afterwards, by guile and cunning."

Kaja had been fooling himself on the vague hope that Vala was the crux of everything to prove Lalep was just any other kobold, but this justification was cast to the wind as a pile of dead leaves masquerading as a tree in a hurricane. Within himself, that old and monstrous spirit had been uncovered, and Kaja finally realised what had driven him. Kaja trembled. He felt sick and his head throbbed as he realised his old, decayed pride had once again ruined him.

“How many died defending Crater-Vale from Jaraesi's kobolds again, Firaegin?" Kaja pleaded.

“Twenty. Noru, Beto, Wesei, Mawa-" Firaegin only stopped as Kaja buried his face in his hands.

“How many of them could be as remarkable as Lalep? How many of them were snuffed out before having a chance to truly live? And... and that's just the ones who died from that attack! How many died when I could have prevented it!?" Kaja screamed and punched the ground through the water. “How many exceptional kobolds have been denied the chance to live? All-Dragon's blood, what have I done!?"

“ Stop." Firaegin commanded, and Kaja slumped. “Your guilt is understandable, old flame. Never forget it, because regrets can be a powerful tool. You know my own story after The Collapse. The sorrow, the madness..."

Kaja knew it well. A young Underboss Figin, an expansion to the lair, an arrogant architect and a tragic disaster. Fifty lives gone in a heartbeat.

“I... I do, but that wasn't your fault! Those kobolds disobeyed you. Even I could be at fault for not stepping in!"

“Fault is meaningless. It is the Underboss' responsibility to instil faith and trust in his subjects, and unlike a dragon, they have to do so by deed, by the heart and mind. They must shoulder all burdens brought to them and seek out more for the sake of their kobolds. I failed them by not convincing them their actions were too risky. Just as you failed us by acting in your nature. But as I used The Collapse to push myself to meet the expectations, so you too must also rise above the tragedy. You must be better, Kaja, because I know you can be!"

Firaegin shrank himself and placed a his massive hand on Kaja's shoulder, though it would be fairer to say he shrouded the kobold with it. Despite his turmoil, the underboss rested his head against the emperor's hand and felt comfort from it and looked into Firaegin's amber eyes, calming further.

Firaegin brought his face near Kaja, whispering, “like Vala, you were victims of your natures, sculpted by them, and like her, you must hold yourself accountable, but build upon the pain. How you achieve this... only you can truly make use of what drives you, but I know you feel for Crater-Vale, and I trust you to become greater than what you think you can be, just like Lalep, like so many kobolds and. Just like you saw in me, old flame!"

Kaja nodded, placing his hands over Firaegin's.

“I understand. Forgive me."

“I must apologise as well." The dragon sighed, his eyes sad.

“What for?"

“I know Vala will seek to serve Crater-Vale, but she does not wish to do so as a dragon. It is her wish to live as a kobold, with all that entails, and she will desire being ordered as any other would be, including from yourself and the section leaders as penance, but also to understand how to live without her power. I have already dismissed the knowledge from the kobolds that listened in on Lalep's story except for Lalep himself, as I know he will keep her secret to the grave, but you left before I could do the same to you and Sura."

“You're going to order us to forget, aren't you? That Vala's a dragon. I... you know best, Firaegin." Kaja closed his eyes and waited for the words.

“As I said. Forgive me. I fear you will treat her differently with this knowledge. I will save your penning of Lalep's tale and I will tell you when the time is right, when Vala has learned to live as one of you. Until then.

“ Forget..."

* * *

Epilogue

Vala's New Life

She awoke. Darkness around her, no walls in reach of her dark vision and she could only just see a ceiling of smooth stone and trailing banners depicting a green dragon beside a far smaller blue. She opened her eyes fully and sat up, spotting the dragon himself sitting before her. A dragon bigger than anything she had witnessed before.

Instinct took hold, her body changing back to dragon form. She back-peddled, crouching low and exposing her narrow belly, seeking to survive this monstrous drake in his own lair, a vast hoard behind him and she could sense another dragon's presence.

To her surprise, the vast drake bowed his head.

“I bid you welcome, Karoesila. Please, be calm. You are amongst friends. I am Lalep's dragonlord and I was the one who broke Caladar's curse. Well, his second curse." The dragon laughed. Firaegin. That was his name, Vala remembered Lalep telling her as her memories came back.

“I... how..." Karoesila gasped and sputtered, still forming her thoughts.

“Calm, Karoesila. Caladar subjected you to a Mind Maze; quite a desperate and cunning trap, but not a flawless one." Firaegin cleared his throat as he recited the words. “I curse you both! Servant and dragon, be lost in your minds, locked within, where no dragon born may save you.

“Quite clever, as a human could free you if they were so inclined just by telling you who you were, but certainly not Lalep, as he never heard the curse. Just as well I wasn't born a dragon."

“Hmph, I wish you wouldn't go spreading that detail so wantonly, blessed mate. It's unbecoming." A female voice called from behind Firaegin and Karoesila craned her long, graceful neck around his grand frame; a blue dragoness with a belly swollen vastly with eggs lounged with proud and a pompous air Vala disliked. Firaegin circled back to the other dragoness, joining her on the hoard.

“She would be able to sense it as you would, my precious Jaraesi, once she comes fully to her senses." Firaegin nuzzled the powerful but smaller dragoness before looking back to Karoesila.

“Yes, I apologise for intruding into your mind, but it was necessary to save you. I know you well, I understand your struggles and torture, and I wish to let you know that you aren't a prisoner here, but I extend the invitation to stay as long as you wish. I believe we can help each other."

“What happened to Lalep? Is he safe?" Karoesila asked.

“He is recuperating from his ordeal, just as you should. I just wanted to ask you something."

“Name it, Great One. I owe you everything."

“I understand you wish to control your power, to help a clan and it's kobolds. For a soldier to overcome their weakness, they train their bodies and study strategy but also know when to keep their blades sheathed, preventing undue conflict. For a healer to prevent the deaths of others, they learn how the body works and understand injury and illness but learn that they cannot save everyone, aiming to save those with a true chance of survival.

“For you to overcome the compulsion to command with your voice, I believe you must learn to use the strength of words without affecting you powers and still achieve the same effect. I happen to have need of a kobold ambassador to help Crater-Vale."

Firaegin gestured at the exit to the lair, where Vala could sense many kobolds. A chance to try again...

“I also wish to learn your unique spell, if you would share it."

Karoesila thought on his words; to live as a kobold and to have a duty to fulfil that will help them. To master such a skill and to not break people, but to bring them together with words alone. She nodded.

“Yes, Great One. I shall do this for you... I have but one request in return. I wish for Lalep to be my mate."

Firaegin warm smile cleared any lingering doubts in Karoesila's mind.

“Of course I agree, Lalep asked the same during my efforts to save you, and so I welcome you as one of my empire's kobolds and a resident of Crater-Vale. I suppose I should use your chosen name, Ambassador Vala."

Karoesila adopted the guise of a kobold, with all that entailed, and took the name to heart, more than just a cover for her horrid past. She was a kobold of Crater-Vale. She was the clan's ambassador.

Vala curtsied, as she'd seen delegates from her home when they visited her mother's lair.

“My Emperor. My Empress. I shall do as instructed."

“You and Lalep have been through much and we are in your debt for saving more kobolds from being tortured and butchered by Caladar. Go and meet your people, Vala, and more importantly, rest."

Firaegin gestured towards the tunnel opposite their hoard as he returned to his own mate's side. Vala was exhausted, but approaching her new home gave her strength, but more than that feeling was what she felt when, upon turning out into the vast hub and a near endless tunnel, a yellow kobold slumbered against a wall nearby; the bond they had. Firaegin must have sensed it, but Vala knew that Lalep may have been a kobold of clan Crater-Vale, but he was now her kobold.

A mature, orange scaled kobold with the same pink eyes as Lalep's was tucking a blanket around him. She stood and turned, and looked Vala from top to bottom.

“I'm glad to see you're alright, Vala. He was a bit worried about telling me about you, but what he did say, he spoke with reverence."

“You... are his mother?"

The older kobold nodded.

“I'm Yula, one of the hatchery nurses and healers."

“You have a remarkable son, Yula. You should be proud."

“I am," Yula said, her eyes growing wet.

“If you ever need help, I feel indebted to you as much as Lalep. I have been named Crater-Vale's ambassador, but if you ever desire assistance, it would gladden my heart to help bring life into the world. I-I have cost lives..." Vala wanted to confess everything, to bare her heart, but she couldn't; she lacked the courage.

“I would like that, Vala. So long as it doesn't interfere with your duties, of course."

Lalep stirred and Yula excused herself with a polite bow.

Vala felt joyous tears in her eyes as Lalep's own opened slowly. He looked at the floor for a moment before raising his gaze. There were no words, they were unnecessary. Lalep threw the blanket aside and rushed to her, arms intertwining and hearts beating as one.

For the first time as long as she dared to remember, she was whole.

* * *

Torn pages from Maurice's Journal

My name is Lucas. I won't give my family name to spare my parents the shame, and these are my final words.

Hiding places are scant and few. I write this with the hopes that someone reads it and understands my regrets before I'm killed, or worse, imprisoned and tried for my crimes against the empire. I don't deserve mercy; I could have walked away, but I stuck around out of fear and partook in the kobold blood provided. To that, all I can say is I'm sorry.

I've seen the dark scaled kobold leader, a brutish looking male with purple eyes, giving praise and inspiring his troops and it makes me realise how much of a relic myself and Grigori were. These aren't kobolds lead by a vile dragon that torches villages and strikes fear into his little beast horde. These are trained and disciplined soldiers, driven to fight to protect their home, returning to receive a hot meal and the attention of caring healers. Probably a good fuck from the kobold of their choice as heroes.

I don't want to die alone in this damned cave, but the idea of being dragged about and executed for what we've done to these drakelings scares me more, paraded around as a savage from a worse time, when kobolds really were the little monsters we knew them to be, not these new age servants of our own emperor.

This is what it's like to be the villain, I guess.

I found Grigori's body by the well, half burned and his throat slit, and I've found Sullivan's body; the only proof it's him is his blue eyes, because his head's been pulverised. I have no idea where Maurice went, but the blood trail leading off the bridge by the compound was pretty telling, although if the kobold survived the fall, maybe he did as well. There was a lot of blood, teeth and chunks of flesh. He did not die well. I don't know what happened to Caladar, turned into something monstrous and trapped in a corridor, but I fled as soon as I heard pickaxes in the compound.

I'm backed into where we kept the dragon, and there's no way out.

I hear them preparing to enter. May The Six spare me.

* * *

Tuha's Report

We located the final reported human, named Lucas or so I'm told, in the chamber Scout Lalep said Vala had been detained within. We had plans to take him in but he rushed us and, after injuring three of us, including myself, we had to exterminate him.

We also found more of Moda's scales and blood at the cave opening high above where Scout Lalep rested as per his report. Only a desperate fool would make the climb, but he must have, as we found no body. Underboss Kaja has assured me that all citizens of the empire will be instructed to report any sightings of him so he can be brought in and helped, and his actions in helping Scout Lalep have seen Clan Red-Lake rewarded for his instrumental assistance. As a fellow soldier, I hope he's found and cured.

P.S: I've been informed that Scout Lalep has been made Exemplar. I'm not rewriting this report to make the corrections.

P.P.S: Make a fucking scribe write it next time. I'm a fighter, not a fucking book-worm.

* * *

2nd Season, 1568

Vala's New Life

“Play and learn, you precious gems, you'll grow up big and strong,

then work towards the good of all, the clan that you belong,

we live as one, in harmony and cherish one another,

from far or near, 'neath dragonlord, we're all sister or brother."

“Hush now, my little ones, the sun rises again,

now count the tappings of the miners, counting down from ten,

so sleep and dream of peaceful thoughts, until you rise tomorrow,

to grow up strong and help our lord and from his magic, borrow."

Vala finished her whispered lullaby, stroking an infant kobold and gently rubbing the tender skin around his budding horns with a soothing lotion as the still scaleless neonate cooed, eyes closed and slumbering with a soft smile. The disguised dragon felt her heart flutter, another positive change in the world, yet so much horror to bury with these little moments. She would account for it all, time willing.

They were a delightfully fussy lot, this Crater-Vale brood. Each kobold was less than two years old, and this crèche, one of many nurseries with even more being built, was almost full, and each was a handful. Yula needed Vala, and that made it all worth the frantic study on how to rear and teach, while covering for the little accidents, bumps and scuffles that plagued them daily. Perhaps to the average kobold it was demeaning, messy and frustrating, but to Vala, it was her new life, and one worth living.

She also enjoyed travelling to the surface with her most cherished Lalep, and living through his wonder and amazement at what the 'overcave' had to offer, and how humans could be just as decent as a kobold as she learned to converse with the human leaders through Goshev. She was learning their societal norms, the 'dos and don'ts', as Sir Bonasi was a willing and cheerful teacher.

Watching the subtle motions of a brow, a nose, the wiggle of an ear of the humans was almost a game, and knowing how and what to say was invigorating. Vala would soon be ready to treat with contested settlements, and she would succeed for Emperor Firaegin, for Crater-Vale, but especially for Lalep.

Vala couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt that her servitude could be so enjoyable, that perhaps she deserved to be trapped still far away, alone, beaten and bled as desired. Her crimes were immense and loomed about her in these quiet moments.

Yula peered through the doorway and beckoned Vala over, and glad for the distraction, Vala gave the neonate a final dab of her tongue and silently left the crèche.

“You've taken to this like a miner to stone, Vala. I was worried you had taken on too much, training and working as ambassador and nurse, but... well, you have a gift." Yula wrapped an arm around the slighter, white scaled kobold and gave her a friendly hug, one that Vala gladly reciprocated.

The pair moved over to a pile of foul smelling sodden sheets and blankets and a more appealing basin of soapy water.

“And you're a fine teacher, Yula. Moreover, just seeing the smiles on their faces makes up for every trip, spill and... accident." They shared a knowing laugh. “Of course returning to Lalep each night. Ah," Vala clutched her cheeks, “I could ask for nothing better."

“I know he's in great hands as well, even if I do worry every time I see him near to passing out during meals. I hope he understands that it isn't a race to improve, but a journey of learning."

“I do tell him, but it only makes him calm down for a short while. The other day I heard he was taking multiple sparring partners at once." Vala grumbled and shook her head as Yula tutted. “I can't tell who he's trying to impress more; me, His Grace or Kugu."

“Well, Kugu does push hard. He always has." Yula busied herself with washing soiled linen as Vala hung them near heated stones then folding already dried sheets to make room and stacking them on nearby shelves.

“Now that Lalep's grown up some more, the Scout-Master's left the softer approach behind and insists that my boy must become everything an Exemplar can be. I fear he still acts as though we are in the dark days of Karajan's rule, that each kobold must pull his weight and thrice more beyond."

Vala looked away as her face twisted with worry. Not just for Lalep, as she knew that he was in a good place and just needed to slow somewhat, but she had learned about Kaja from Firaegin. Far from being a mere subject, Vala would frequent the emperor's lair to talk with both he and Jaraesi to bring her up to speed with the world. That a kobold would not only become such a powerful dragon, but also have such a positive drive for improving the lives of everyone he could made her all the prouder.

Kaja, though, was a kindred spirit to Vala. Both had struggled with their natures, both had unwittingly caused much pain, but whereas Vala had found a place in helping others and felt her spirit being held higher, Kaja was taking a darker path. He loathed himself more openly, punishing himself, drinking and eating less than he was entitled to. Kaja was openly pushing himself to assist the clan, and the clan respected him in turn, but Vala feared the underboss might break. Firaegin insisted that Kaja would have to learn on his own, as he feared relying on using a draconic order would undermine the growth.

Vala understood this well. She barely used her commands, although she confessed that she did indulge at Lalep's request for... well, indulgences. He knew her fears and never pushed, only asking occasionally and never overstepping. He was always gentle, and Vala adored that of him.

The nurses finished their laundry duties and, after a final wash in a separate basin, Vala bid farewell to Yula and headed back to the hub.

Outside, Vala noticed a striking figure; a tall, well built kobold of forest green scales, following Underboss Kaja from a distance as the scarlet kobold yawned on his journey back to his chamber. Vala exchanged a knowing nod with the burly male, and felt proud; he was a fine student of magic, just as Lalep had told her, and a fast friend.

She headed towards the training halls, between the nursery and both her and Lalep's quarters; a private room that shocked her, as kobolds almost never had such things except underbosses and the section heads. As she passed by the mines, though, a friendly and rugged kobold waved her over.

“Fair morning, Foreman Moras!" Vala bowed to the stocky turquiose kobold, although most of him was covered in thick leather overalls and he held a full-head helmet with toughened glass goggles and a filtered breathing mask.

“Aye, fair sunrise, Ambassador Vala. I wanted to let ya know I've got the miners all practised with your song!" Moras' grin was as wide as his head, if not wider.

“Already?" Vala's eyes widened in competition. “I-I'm impressed! Will you let me hear them when they next recite it?"

“Next recite? Bah!" Moras chuckled and patted Vala on the shoulder. It was more of a full slap, but she was still adjusting to the rougher treatment of being handled like any other kobold.

“C'mon, Vala, I'll have'em take a crack now!" Moras waved Vala down the tunnel, taking a breathing mask from the wall and handing it to her, then rung a bell attached to the side of the paternoster compartment twice as they stepped in.

“Two down! Any up?" A kobold yelled below.

“One up!" Called another.

“Disengaging the lock!"

With a ratcheting rattle, the pair lowered, passing an identical box on the same system. The miner waved across and Vala nodded back as she slipped on the mask, taking a few experimental breaths through the fibrous filters around her muzzle and squinted through the goggles, getting used to the pressure around her eyes.

“I think we struck a fair compromise between your lyrics while givin' the team a chance to have a little fun. Er... you okay?" Moras asked, Vala nodded before looking away; her mind was elsewhere and in a far less friendly place

The chain driven chamber slowed with a light squeal as it reached the bottom and the bustle of the mines filled Vala's ears. The dusty corridors vibrated with activity and chatter. Vala took a few deep breaths, forcing the frightful memory from her mind, and followed Moras into the shaft floor.

Moras inhaled deeply, causing a hissing noise from his mask.

“Alright, folks!!" He paused, waiting for the din to subside before continuing, “we've got the ambassador as a guest and she wants you to sing 'The Ballad of Lalep the Bold'!"

A bellowing of agreeable, excited voices filled the caves.

“On three! One! Two! Three!"

Picks struck the stone in even tempo from the first word;

"A braver kobold there never was ever,

a scout from Crater-Vale, oh so clever,

with dagger and sword in hand and claw,

an unlikelier hero we did never saw!"

"From humble beginnin's, a clutch of six, he was the last to hatch,

grew up as a runt, and thought of as stunted, a break he'd never catch,

he's yellow of scale, a pitiful male, claws likely too small to scratch!

Yet he was a fighter,

a cutter and biter!

In the Ballad of Lalep the 'Bold!"

"Destined for cookin', or writin' or chippin', a lesser life for he,

yet trainin' for killin', of stabbin' and seekin', he said he'd rather be,

he couldn't talk well, he'd scramble and yell, and often would just flee!

Yet a slayer of men,

again and again!

In the Ballad of Lalep the 'Bold!"

"A braver kobold there never was ever,

a scout from Crater-Vale, oh so clever,

with dagger and sword in hand and claw,

an unlikelier hero we did never saw!"

"Set out on patrol, the dutiful Kobold, and his very best, he did,

fell into a portal, so nearly crushed and from man-kin did he hid

captured and beated, but never defeated, they'd never be of him rid!

He cut out their eyes,

left'em to the flies!

In the Ballad of Lalep the 'Bold!"

"Discovered a female, and rescued her too, a kobold of pretty white

they fled off together, protector and charge, bonding together to fight

she sung to amaze, beguile'em and faze, he cut'em and set'em alight!

They fucked up a wizard,

an' tore out his gizzard!

In the Tale of Lalep the 'Bold!"

"A Braver Kobold there never was ever,

a scout from Crater-Vale, oh so clever,

with dagger and sword in hand and claw,

an unlikelier hero we did never saw.

It's a tale we'll keep tellin' until we're old!

Good ol' Firaegin bless Lalep the 'Bold!"

* * *

Kaja's Chamber

The underboss entered the room, and as with every day he returned from his duties, he walked to the far corner of his desk. On top of it, hand carved on a stone tablet, was the twenty names of those that had fallen from Jaraesi's assault. Beneath that was a copy of obituary records of every kobold who had died in his eight hundred or so years as the ruler of Crater-Vale. He read each name and prayed to the All-Dragon, kneeling and hands clasped.

Then, beside it was a book he had a hand in writing as dragonlord; the Tenants of Survival, as signed by Underboss Figin beneath the tyrant Karajan. A list of thirty awful rules he had forced his kobolds to follow when he was still Karajan because of the incessant calls for help. Instead of seeking a solution, he demanded they punish themselves harshly for what he perceived as their own failings.

He read these rules every day and would live them out as penance;

1: Do not spill water, be it cup or eye. Those that do will be deprived of their water ration for three days.

2: Those that spill food will be forced to eat their full ration from the floor for three days.

3: All problems must be dealt with immediately. Procrastination of any kobold in dereliction of their duties shall be flogged.

4: Any caught taking a break outside of meal time will be prevented from sleep and forced to work another shift immediately after spending their sleeping hours on guard duty.

5: Those who strike another outside of sparring shall be hung by their wrists during sleep hours, then forced to partake their water ration. See rule one.

6: Those that cut another shall have their scales peeled, their horns shorn, their claws clipped then subjected to rule five.

A knock at the door broke Kaja's focus as he closed the book. He would complete it, but as underboss, he had to respond, as per rule three.

Opening the door, he was met with a large, powerful green kobold male with a yellow underbelly and amber eyes.

“What's the... problem..." Kaja closed his eyes and shook his head; he was losing his mind.

Opening them again revealed the same male.

“F-Figin? Wh...what-"

He was interrupted as the kobold imposed himself into Kaja's chamber, with strong limbs wrapped around him and being lashed by the intruder's passionate tongue. The door was slammed shut behind the larger male.

Kaja never got around to finishing his study of the rules that night. He didn't mind, though.

He had the emperor's permission.

The End