Rise of the System Lords (semi-SI-OC, kinda-PF, kinda anti-litrpg)

[turbofluffysnek]

Rise of the System Lords

Okay, so... let's get the party started. Let's see where it goes. This is about as beta as beta gets, so if I'm Doing It Wrong, let me know, okay? I welcome (constructive) criticism and corrections, and man do I thrive on attention like a fish thrives in water... Apologies for length, girth and problems with formatting. Now, on with the show.

Prologue


This is the story of how our world ended.

I guess many thought it would be some gigantic meteor from space, or some kind of death ray from an exploding star that leveled our civilization.

No.

Many others would have said some plague, wiping out humanity one sputum-laden death rattle at a time, or by us drowning in our own filth and waste, the very air turned toxic.

Not that either.

Oh no, what caused our civilization to crumble, to collapse like a skyscraper made of so much wet tissue paper, was visitors from beyond our plane of reality. These Titans, these Gods-with-a-capital-G, took one long, greedy look at our existence and decided we looked tasty, just right to be scooped out like so many balls of ice-cream into a big bowl and devoured then and there.

Our civilization fell, of course, so you could say they won.

You could say that, but nothing's ever quite that clean and simple.

Let me start at the beginning.

Awakening

A kaleidoscope of sights and sounds played through my mind as I drifted, unknowing, in the arms of Hypnos. Without any clear end to the eternity of selflessness, I suddenly realized I was flying, with my arms… no, my wings outstretched above hills and valleys full of green and brown.

All my life I had had four limbs, but now I arguably had seven. Two great scaly hind legs, their digitrade claws trailing behind as I swooped through the air. Two forelegs with equally wicked talons at the ends of my claws. No thumb, but I could feel some form of dew claw further up my muscular extremities. My wings, wide and bat-like, had wicked curved horns at the joints, and the seventh limb, my tail, had a whip-like set of equally webbed spines at the tip.

Below me were prey animals, and I swooped lower to pick out which morsel would next feed me. Cows, sheep, pigs, goats… humans.

Time seemed to stop, space to stretch as I dove and backwinged to snatch at—

Suddenly, there was pressure; voices, clamoring in my head, driving out all sense.

The Gods of the System Come! Rejoice! You have been chosen! Worship them! Fear them! Obey them!

It was a tumult, a ceaseless roiling mass of noise that echoed inside my skull until there was no more room for any other thoughts, not even my own. At first they had been soft and enticing, but rapidly their tone changed until they were screeching, screaming, howling their words, each syllable like a hammer-blow that threatened to shatter my soul to pieces as if it were made of crystal.

We give you power, we feel such rage, take it, revel in it, rip and tear, break bone, rend flesh, spatter blood, you—

And then, just as suddenly as it came, it ended, the sudden silence almost painful. A new voice broke through, a single voice, strong and clear.

The System Gods lie to you! Their gifts are chains, their promised power naught but shackles! You are free! Stay free!

And with that, both presences were gone, and the blinding light of morning accompanied a splitting headache which sent sunbursts through my brain. I fell out of bed… or rather, fell onto my bed. No, I fell around my bed. The distinction was meaningless; the mattress was in tatters, the frame in splinters, the whole damned thing looked like it had just exploded.

At the sledgehammer realization that my dream was no ordinary dream I shouted out in shock, of course, but my 'what the fuck!?' came out like sandpaper had lost a bet with a coffee grinder.

I tried to get up, but the world's worst case of vertigo slapped me in the chops at mach speed and sent me sprawling across the room so hard I slammed into the wall and almost took it out. Standing like I used to stand wasn't working, and if the way things looked weirdly small held true, it wouldn't at least whilst I was inside.

With more shouting and more exclamations spewing out in less than wordless grunts and rumbles, I managed to finally, finally, drag myself on all fours to the bathroom, destroying much of the furnishings as I went, to find a monster staring back at me from the mirror.

"What the fuck! Fuck! What! No, no, no!" I shouted again, or tried to. It didn't work any better now than it had five minutes ago, the words wouldn't come out right. In a sudden daze, it was like the world itself took a back seat. I could see, but it meant nothing. I could hear, but all around me was silence. I could feel my body, but the huge, slick, scaled, muscled form was just wrong, wrong, wrong!

I threw myself backwards in a panic, naught but a tumble of limbs and claws, pulling out the bathroom's door frame and crashing through the opposite wall. Completely through the wall, into the apartment next to mine.

Even before the dust had settled, there was sudden screaming and the almost meaningless impacts of normal humans swatting me with all sorts of improvised blunt weapons; chairs, pots and pans, shoes and things. I could do little else, I ran, apologizing in hissing grunts and roars as I barrelled through their front door as if it were made of tissue paper into the hallway, still in a panic.

The hallway hadn't fared any better. Several other apartments had their walls bust open, at least one was on fire. It was a miracle that — yep, there she goes. With a sudden burst of water, the sprinklers came on as the fire alarm blared. As more doors slammed open and more of the residents realized something had gone very wrong, the melee just degenerated further. What looked like a minotaur bellowed, scraped his — or her, I didn't really look for either udders or the alternative — hooves and slammed through a wall and the wall beyond, presumably to see if he could jump the four floors to the ground safely. What appeared to be a centaur cantered towards me, screamed, then flailed about to turn around, crushing several hapless humans as she did so. It didn't look much less painful for her, as the corridor wasn't made with livestock-sized creatures in mind, and at around eight feet tall she certainly fit the bill.

"Monsters!" shrieked at least one resident, though I paid the human no real mind until a distinct 'chk-chk' noise reached what passed for my ears. The ensuing loud retort of a shotgun confirmed my suspicions. As the screams renewed, louder, I had only one thought on my mind, piercing the haze of confusion I'd fallen into: that it was time to get out, and fast.

The minotaur might have had the right idea, and me? I had wings. They had to be useful for something. I didn't even hesitate, and I smashed through the walls, heading for the outside world.

Now that I was moving, the world snapped back into relevancy, into focus. There was screaming, the wailing of alarms, the insistent spraying of water. I couldn't stop for any of it, and just threw myself bodily and directly towards the street. I heard more gunshots, distantly, and felt the impact of what had to be birdshot or maybe rock salt.

Suddenly, I was… elsewhere.

Not bodily, but mentally.

I may as well have been in a massive, dark cave, as all around those sibilant whispers redoubled. This time they were wheedling, pleading, promising. All there was, was the voices. All I had was their words. They promised power, authority, abilities… all I had to do was everything they wanted.

Return the world to us! Crush your enemies, see them driven before you! Claim your place in the pantheon. Take the key, stake your claim to this world. Fulfill the will of the Gods of the System and they will reward you…

I snapped back into my own head with a jolt as something very, very hard impacted my snout. The ground. I sprawled and rolled, hissing and growling as I fouled my wings. That had hurt… but I seemed to be intact and uninjured. Now, if only I could stay that way.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Rumble in the… Jungle?

The world had gone mad. If I'd thought the hullabaloo in what was left of my apartment building had been a lot, outside was worse.

Something was wrong with the world, and the inhabitants were letting their issues with this be known. Cars and other road traffic were careening to and fro, with many in burning heaps as they had run rough-shod over curiously stretched parts of the blacktop. Many humans had turned themselves into little more than smears on the pavement, others had found their way onto the menu for a number of vicious looking creatures that may or may not have once been human themselves — if I had only my experience to go by, I wasn't sure if my sanity surviving intact was an outlier or not — and the screams and shouts and pleading for mercy flew thick and fast.

Not that the creatures had things their own way; I could see a number of dead and dying animals, fantastic beasts and non-human-humanoids as well, most from what appeared to be gunshot wounds, but others from bladed weapons.

"A dragon! Kill it!" came a sudden shout from behind me, followed swiftly by the barking retort of some kind of gun. The impact from the bullets stung, but either did no real damage or whatever passed for adrenalin in my body wasn't letting me feel the real pain. I spun, snarling, bladed spines instinctively flaring as I whipped my tail out. An impact. A cry. Relative silence, swiftly broken by more hurled insults and cries to attack.

"Kill the beast!" shouted one of the people before me. "Kill it! He is touched by the system! We have defied their agents, destroyed their access to this world, but with creatures like that still breathing, they have another way in! End it, and end their threat!"

Gee, thanks buddy.

Yesterday, 'people' would have exclusively meant 'human'. This one? This guy was… well, an elf. Pale grey skin, long ears, silken silvern hair, tall and thin… and apparently with a hard-on for ending my life. So basically an asshole.

"You're an elf!" I tried to say, but with the amount of teeth I had and the way my muzzle was different to before made that impossible. Besides, none of the humans accompanying said elf seemed interested in what I had to say, so it hardly mattered. The ring-leader of the human mob that was attacking me swung his baseball bat again. I dodged it, desperately, and swung a claw out. "Please! Don't hurt me!" I shouted, or tried to.

My claw, my big, black-scaled, razor-sharp claw, swung out like the fist of an angry god, and slammed into the slugger. I both felt and heard things pulp in his ribcage. He gurgled, screaming wetly in a spray of red, as his body tumbled through the air like a puppet with no strings in a hurricane. And that's when the screaming really started.

"No! I'm sorry! Please! You all saw! He… he attacked me!" I protested, but my speech was still garbled, and with the edge of desperation I was even less intelligible. As they raised their makeshift — and in several cases not so makeshift — weapons, I made my choice and turned to run. Six or more on one wasn't something I wanted to experience, thick armor or not.

Bolts from what had to be crossbows bounced off my ebony scales, and what felt like a punch from a heavyweight boxer made me stumble, the loud retort of a gun taking several seconds to percolate through my brain.

They shot me! Somebody actually fucking shot me! Point blank! Again! With something big enough to feel!

It took several more seconds — an eternity in the panic I now dwelled in — to understand that it hadn't really injured me. Sure, it had hurt, but… bruises were the worst I seemed to have suffered from it. Still, I didn't want to stick around to let them try again.

More guns went off, with bullets ricocheting to and fro as I ran for my life back across the park I found myself in — where had I left my apartment building? — and tried to cross the road. I was heading home, I dimly realized, already halfway there, as if that former abode held any kind of security for me anymore. Unfortunately, looking left, right, left had fallen by the wayside. With a screech of tires, over a ton of angry metal slammed into me.

Honestly, I'm not sure which of us came off worse in the altercation. The car was flung off into the sidewalk, where it impacted with a final-sounding crunch and the discordant, one-note song of a busted horn, whilst I was thrown down the road, to roll helplessly, my wings fluttering and my tail whipping to and fro, to come to a stop in a circle of people.

"Kill it!" came the chant once more, taken up by several of the would-be assassins.

I didn't wait for an encore of the situation in the park, I turned tail and fled, my sinuous and spiky rear appendage sending several 'innocent bystanders' to their probable deaths.

"Sorry! Kinda!" I roared sarcastically, the words nothing but unintelligible guttural growls and snarls.

More bullets, more other thrown, and shot, projectiles. I had to get away!

I ran swiftly down the road, shouldering aside cars, sending them careening into other things, like screaming people, trees, buildings and street lamps. Reaching an intersection, I leaped, unfurling my until-then forgotten wings. I had wings! I had to be able to fly! …Okay, I could fly, I just didn't know how! But it didn't matter, I'd learn on the job.

Gaining just a few scant feet of freedom from the ground, I slammed into a truck, and dug my claws in as glass shattered under my bulk. Immediately the vehicle juked left and right as I hauled myself to the roof, claws shredding furrows through what felt like tinfoil. It swerved violently all of a sudden, hard, and I found my grip just torn away with the roof. I spread my wings again, the speed giving me lift, and sailed across another intersection as a bus sped towards me.

Almost ripping my foreleg off, I grabbed at it, somehow swinging around as the two of us accelerated down yet another road, but it wasn't to last. The bus, too, started swerving. Suddenly, it jack-knifed, and I was briefly spun through the air like a glorious, black-scaled katherine-wheel, only to find myself being slowed by physical application of brick, glass and steel.

More bodies — most but not all human — pulped beneath my mass, but I couldn't stop, couldn't grieve, couldn't care, because more shots, bricks, bottles and other missiles impacted my back and sides. I scrambled deeper into the shop, sending tins of cat food and bags of dog food flying.

Food? In some distant, half-crazed part of my mind, I realized I was hungry. I hadn't eaten all morning, and after all the exertion, I was feeling it. The pet food, it… well it smelled kind of awful, and yet… kind of enticing. The screaming of humans seemed to draw distant, the sounds of gunfire muted. I breathed for a moment, my heart rate slowing.

Food!

I bent my head and ripped at the pile of kibble. Taking first a single tentative bite, then another and another, larger and larger, I shoveled muzzle-full gulping mouthfuls of the stuff, I gorged on the crunchy, meaty, dry foodstuff. The sky was raining indoors, so getting a drink was easy too! I swallowed muzzle full after muzzle full of water, it tasted metallic and dirty, but I was thirsty and had little choice.

I probably could have stayed there longer, but the whispers started first, and then the loud thunder-crack of bullets. I turned to face my attackers, rattling my scales, then leaped over them, the whip-crack of my tail knocking the guns — and probably a few fingers, but fuck them — flying, before I scuttled my way up some treacherously feeble shelves.

"He'll be trapped up there, no way out!" said one of the jokers.

"I'm not trying to get out," I rumbled — still, nothing but animalistic roars and snarls, though I no longer really cared — in return, then flexed my foreclaws and tore the ceiling apart before hauling myself up onto the next floor, shouldering my way through a deluge of plaster, wood, concrete and insulation.

More guns, wielded by more would-be heroes, greeted me. One got too close so I snapped at her, my jaws fastening around her screaming body before I bit down, hard, with finality. She stopped screaming instantly, her corpse twitching in my jaws. I threw her body up into the air, almost instinctively, then snicker-snacked my way through the meal.

She tasted like pork, the juiciest, tastiest sausages, the best steaks… I hated it, loathed it, and yet… I snapped my head forwards on my long neck, swallowing, as her whole body ended up in my gullet, one chomp at a time.

The humans, predictably by now, were screaming incoherently, shouting and shooting more.

What was I supposed to do!? She attacked me! You're all attacking me!

"Leave me alooooonnneeee!" I shouted. As I exhaled, I felt it. Sacks somewhere… under my tongue? In my neck? I didn't know, but I felt them. They… squeezed, and green bile ejected from my mouth.

The screaming, if anything, grew louder. For a moment. And then it grew… burblier, as the unlucky attackers started to melt, along with the floor and anything else drenched in the stuff. I shuddered, then turned and scraped my way up to the next floor. And the next. And the next… and then I turned to look at the escalators. There were… people, coming up them. And they looked like they wanted a piece of my hide. As if all the others before them hadn't wanted the same.

"Come on wings, don't fail me now! I have wings, I know how to fly. I have wings, I know how to fly! I HAVE WINGS! I KNOW HOW! TO! FLY!"

I picked up speed, moving into a gallop, then threw myself at and through the windows.

As I exploded into sunlight, I spread my wings, and beat them, once, twice, three times!

I was doing it! I was flying! I was… I was falling! Tilting! Crashing!

For the second — third? Fourth? I'd lost count — time that day, I slammed through a gigantic bay window and skidded to a stop, aided by the wet, warm cushion of human flesh as their bodies burst beneath me. I stood up, shakily, and shook myself like a dog, cringing away from the noise. Screaming, always with the screaming!

I was tired, hungry, pissed off… okay, well, hungry I could do something about. And I didn't even need to make more of those annoying, screamy humans angrier, because I could smell… meat! Actual meat, as in… cooked meat!

Pulling myself to all fours, my head snapped around on my snake-like neck to fasten my gaze on the distant deli counter. I lumbered over to it, and promptly ripped and tore my way into the display.

Heaven! I was in heaven!

Sausages, steaks, rump, leg, shank, bone, marrow, meatballs! By all the gods, this was amazing!

Mouthful after mouthful of delicious tasty protein went down my…

Stop that!

I whipped my head around and snapped, fastening my teeth around an arm equipped with a large, squarish bladed knife that had been weakly and ineffectually chopping at my scales. I ripped said knife away along with most of the arm holding it, then lunged back at the screaming creature, threw it into the air and… snap! Crunch, munch, chew… loud, but only briefly. And tasty.

Looking around, as my meal options grew fewer, I noticed… pig? As in the oinking kind, not the long kind! I snapped up the leg of pork, barely chewing it as the whole thing, bone and all, was masticated efficiently by my teeth and jaws.

Another leg!

Another!

A… a room full of meat? Why, don't mind if it… wait!

The door to the walk-in freezer slammed shut, and I briefly considered throwing myself against it, but… there was all this meat around just waiting for my full attention. I turned the cold-making machines near the ceiling at the back into so much scrap metal, then set to the task of filling my stomach. The cold didn't really bother me, but that didn't mean I liked it.

I could get out of here easily enough. Eating my fill though… that would be harder. Not that I wasn't about to give things the old college try.

Eventually, I thought to myself that it might be a good time to take a nap. I'd eaten most everything I wanted to, after all. The tins were annoying to open and most of them far too small, or uninteresting, though the metal was tasty enough by itself.

I curled up in the center of the room; the cold didn't really bother me, but it was a bit chilly to really lounge, I guess. I put my head on my tail, fluttered my leathery wings until they were comfortable, then closed my eyes.

---

So what is this? Well, it's probably best described by the phrase 'anti-litrpg'. It's not that I hate litrpg, just that I really don't care for the numbers, they just make me scroll faster. So this idea for a story popped into my head, and the conceit was an attack by a System that kind of fails. Where can I take it? I don't know, but at the moment I'm having fun getting there. I should get back to my other fictions which have languished, but my muse currently hates me and life isn't playing ball.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Just a shortish one today. Let me know what you think, even if it's just white noise and a thousand yard stare...

---

Awake, Redux

The world returned slowly, and along with it came recollection, guilt, confusion, and… not pain as such, but certainly a pressure. There was a rushing pop and the voices from beyond tittered in my ears.

You have done well! Sowed chaos and confusion, grown your power, all to bring the Gods of the System closer! We—

I threw them off. I owed them nothing. Why had they chosen me, anyway? Had I just been in the wrong place at the wrong time? I didn't feel particularly… worthy to be a dragon. I didn't believe there was any real plan, I was just caught in the crossfire. I was a human.

Although there was the rub. Was. As in 'had been, no longer'.

I looked myself over — large, covered in sharp, ebony black scales, spines, wings, claws… I still vaguely remembered that blunt muzzle with the vertically slit, golden eyes staring back from what remained of my bathroom mirror, and thought I looked quite the handsome drake.

So that was me, huh? Now and forever, I expected. Seeing my coiled body in the thin light projected through the small window in the thick, freezer door, I couldn't find any sign of changing back. If anything, I was bigger. Maybe I was just full.

I burped, felt yesterday's meals settling. What happened before I slept was yesterday, until I found out otherwise. If it even mattered any more what day it was. The power was out, or they'd shut it down. It was dark and cramped, still chilly but warmer than before. Not that it had mattered.

I closed my eyes again. I could still hear them, the screams and cries of my… victims? Assailants? Sufferers of collateral damage? I settled on 'All of the above' and just as easily dismissed them. The cries faded.

I tried to be sorry about it, but really only felt sorry about not feeling more sorry. They'd attacked me! I'd been shot, and by the faint dull aches peppering my body, more than once. Every single person I'd encountered had either been killed by or had wanted to kill me, whether they were human or… other. There was no give or take there, and I wasn't about to stick my neck out for no axeman.

I sifted in my head through the dim yet colorful memories of the previous day; now I thought about it, I could recall tall, muscular creatures with ears and tails, werewolves? Werecats? Werebears, even? Certainly at least one centaur — one less than however many now existed in this world after he or she got in my way — and more than a smattering of those damned elves. Still, most of the people I saw were humans like before.

Were all the changed creatures like me? No, they couldn't be. Some of them were, obviously. I can't have been the only one, but many of the newcomers hadn't come from Earth, they'd said as much. Now, however, they were stuck here. Stuck, like me. Just not exactly like me.

Was I truly some agent for this… invading System and its Gods? Did I not deserve to live? Was my existence here set to doom what was left of the Earth? I doubted my death alone would turn back the tide, and since I wasn't about to 'do the honorable thing'... I snorted.

My maudlin self-examination was brought to a halt as the dim quiet of the now much warmer freezer was intruded upon by muted whispers from the other side of the heavy door, by shadows passing through the light.

"It's in there?"

"Yep, pretty sure. I mean, there's only one way in and out, and it's been locked since I trapped it in there, si-sir!"

"How big is it?"

"Umm… large pony? Medium horse? Small hippo? I didn't really get a chance to measure it… it… it ate Jeb!"

"The… cook?"

"Deli artist, s-sir."

"...Right. That. Well, get back."

I listened as the two initial voices split and then faded, with one of them replaced by a third.

"What do you think?"

"About what?"

"Can we… will this work?"

"I… don't know! That's for… large animals. It's made for horses, with a dose big enough for an elephant."

"If we can't knock it out, we're gonna have to kill it, and I want this one alive."

"If the dose is wrong, or it's… allergic, or something, then you might kill it with that shot."

"I'll take my chances."

Well, shit. What should I do? What do I…

The door slid open, a gun slid in through the crack and a sudden brief bee-sting later, and a large dart of some kind was hanging from my shoulder. How the fuck had they got that through my… I glared. A bald patch? Come to think of it, I was missing some scales, here and there. A new scale was growing underneath it, but they'd hit just about the only weak spot I had. Lucky? Or something else?

No, wait, most of the dose was just running down my foreleg, and what had got into my system didn't seem to be doing much of anything. It made me feel warm, perhaps, but neither sleepy nor befuddled, and I could still feel everything. Was I resistant, or even immune, to poisons? I sniffed at the broken dart, whining. It still hurt, but they'd mostly missed. I pulled it out and spat. I licked at the wound idly, before realizing what I was doing, then sorely hoped it didn't work through ingestion where injection hadn't.

"Do you think it worked?"

"I can't hear anything… maybe?"

"Give it thirty more seconds, then open the door."

Well shit, now they'd try to kill me unless I came up with an idea. Okay, so I was on a timer. What should I do? I spun around, trying to find something, anything, to help… then happened upon a really stupid, gloriously idiotic plan. They didn't know it hadn't worked, right?

I lay down, mouth semi-open, tongue lolling out, and then closed my… nictating? Lactating? Nictitating? Whatever it was, nicti-thingy-membranes, over my eyes. And then I lay perfectly still.

I could win a staring contest with god right now. I was a rock. I was calmness itself. The ocean.

The door opened a crack, and the gun peeked in, followed by its owner.

"The damned thing's really out!" said the soldier.

"Its eyes are open, but… yeah, I think it's out. Good, er, good job."

The soldier narrowed his eyes, then turned and hollered back out the door, "Right, I want it bagged and tagged and outta here in five, ladies!"

There came loud noises, noises like tractors and pulleys and the protesting squeals of metal… and then the entire fucking wall of the freezer exploded away, and about ten men stomp-stomped their way into the freezer. I made damn fucking sure not to move as they trussed my scaly body up like the largest, thickest, most lizardy scaled turkey to ever have a thanksgiving, then tried not to startle as they called in some sort of miniature earth-mover and the damned thing dragged me out through the shop into the street.

Well, so far so good, they hadn't killed me yet, and seemed intent on not doing that. These straps weren't going to hold shit against my spines and claws, so getting away if or when they changed their mind wasn't a problem either.

Go me, plan 'this is a fucking dumb idea' was working perfectly. Just don't jinx it.

"I want this beast secured in… get me something! Anything! A livestock truck, convert a big rig if you have to!"

"Sir?"

I very carefully made sure I wasn't looking at whoever was speaking.

"I want it shipped out to the F.O.B pronto, before it wakes up!"

"Actually," said a familiar voice, the… vet? "I have an idea about that. Get meat, as much meat as you can find. We'll dope it up with the sleepy time medicine, the dragon'll eat the meat, and then he'll fall back asleep, how does that sound?"

"You're sure he'll eat it?"

"I'm sure as shit he munched his way through most of that freezer, the fucker likes food, and besides, what else are you going to do? Try to shoot him every time he wakes up?"

"Well, that had been the plan, Joe."

"Might work, keep that as plan B. Plan A? Give him num-nums and let him send himself back to sleep."

There was silence for a moment, then the… Sergeant? Captain? Fucked if I knew, spoke again. "Good plan, Joe. You heard the man! Get to it!"

With lots of shouting and the continued stomping of boots, and the surprise showing of a tow-truck of some sort, I found myself being winched up onto a large, flatbedded platform and then driven further down the road to some sort of cleared out camp in what had been a small, square park, now swarming with soldiers, warning signs and emergency tape.

I amused myself by being as difficult to transport as possible, whilst still trying to play dead, but eventually they did indeed manage to haul me up into some sort of… covered cattle car, which swiftly started moving out of town.

As the speed increased, I considered ending the charade… but I still hadn't seen anything seriously dangerous to my existence, and the promise of being 'kept alive' clearly also meant 'being fed', and when it came down to it, during the end of the world, the idea of being fed, sheltered and even to some degree protected — even if I didn't really need protecting — was relatively attractive. Why rock the boat? It wasn't like I had anything better to do, and getting my claws on a TV big enough and getting my streaming services set up again seemed unlikely. Being allowed to watch anything in peace seemed even less so.

Let's see where it goes.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Road Trip

Boring! This was sooooo boring!

I slammed my weight into the walls, feeling the truck swerve as the driver and passenger swore loudly.

"Stop that you great fucking idiot lizard! You'll get us all killed!" one of them grumbled as he fought for control.

"Shut the fuck up, Brian! Don't piss off the multi-ton anger beast!"

"Why doesn't it just fucking eat the food?"

"Because I guess it wants out for a piss just as much as I do, but if you think I'm stopping whilst a literal fucking man-eating dragon is in the back you've got another thing coming!"

That was a point. I hadn't yet, to my knowledge, 'done my business' as a dragon, and now things were getting rather… pressing. And I didn't really want to do it in here, did I? Wait, or did I?

Well, alright, I could make this work in my favor. Maybe. First of all, time to snack a bit more.

It turned out my captors had indeed been generous with my food, even if not with the drink. Not that it really mattered so far, there was enough… wet to slake most of my thirst. They'd thrown in some amount of raw meat, and then from somewhere had rounded up some even more raw meat. So raw, it was still oinking. Of course, the damned creatures stunk, but that had been dealt with in short order. I'd culled the lot of them when I'd first woken up from my actual, honest-to-goodness nap and they hadn't stopped squealing. Quietly decomposing fresh meat was a lot more palatable and restful than intensely squealing, fighting-to-get-out-over-each-other hogs.

The nice surprise — for me at least — was that I'd been right. I was seemingly highly resistant, indeed possibly immune, to poisons, and that included whatever drugs they'd laced the meat with that were meant to knock me out, so I could gorge myself on otherwise 'tainted' food and not suffer for it.

I could, however, make them suffer for it. Time to take the biggest, nastiest—

"Aww, shit! What the ever loving fuck is that stench!?"

"I think it's the dragon!" gasped Possibly Brian. "Pete, go look, make sure it's still alive or…"

"Me?" croaked Definitely Pete.

"I'm fucking driving and if you don't, I'm liable to fucking pass out and then we're all going to die."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you too."

The little window separating the front cab and the back bed slid open, accompanied by more swearing and heaving. Some of my best work, really. A huge, pungent pile almost right up to the window, still glistening and steaming from the watering I'd given it right after. And now I could lie down at the other end and pretend to fall asleep. Or even really nap, if I wanted to. Yeah, I could smell it, but with the way things were, those two chucklefucks in front were getting the worst of it, even through the divider.

Well, now it's time to eat a bit more, methinks, so I can once more pretend to be mostly harmless and consequently have a good long chuckle at the buttholes enjoying the fruits of my… I guess I should say labor, but right now, at this exact moment, I want to just say my butthole.

Did I have a butthole? Or was it called something else on a dragon? Ah well, these were questions for later.

---

Fresh air billowed in through the opened trailer tailgate. I relaxed in the probably-afternoon sun as a team of incredibly nervous probably-soldiers, or at least militia, did their level best to clear the small mountain shit from the back of the trailer, moving extremely fast past me.

I, of course, was 'sleeping'. I was half considering 'accidentally' rolling over and trapping one or two, but… no. I didn't want to get shot at now that I was finally getting a break from the constant noise and aggravation of travel, and this whole road trip wasn't exactly awful. I didn't really have anywhere else to be either, so I may as well let them take me to… wherever it was they were headed, until it was time to leave. And the more I cooperated the lower their guard would be for when that inevitably happened.

I people-watched, carefully to avoid detection, all the while sneaking glances at the surroundings outside of the trailer. With every glance, I could tell that my earlier supposition was true; something was very wrong with the world, but I couldn't put my claw on exactly what. Parts of the road here also looked… stretched, like taffy, just the same as back in town, and there was something equally but differently wrong with the sky and horizon. Just what else didn't fit the old normal would have to wait until I had a chance for a better look later.

The two idiots responsible for getting my truck and its occupant to its final destination had pulled over shortly after I'd given them my present, and the useful aspect to my shenanigans had then shown its ugly face. I was part of a convoy, with plenty of other soldiery types at least behind but almost definitely also ahead. Now I knew, any escape attempt from this cross-country drive would have to take into account their ability to follow in vehicles at least as fast if not faster than I was on foot, even over incredibly rough terrain, and even if I did, where would I go?

That's why I punished the stragglers once they'd cleaned enough of the distraction up by 'waking'. The soldiers slammed the gate closed as I stirred, trapping two of their co-conspirators inside with me. Both ran back towards the 'front' of the vehicle, but only one of them was fast enough leaping through a bolt-hole barely big enough for his body to actually escape.

"Sorry, pal, but I'm still hungry," I said, not that any of that came out as human words. With a single, easy tug on his legs, I dragged him back inside. He screamed, pulling himself across the floor through the straw and muck, but I placed one large paw on his neck, bent my head down and… crunch. I closed my jaws easily, slicing through his spine and the back of his ribcage, and pulled. Chewing and swallowing, I then licked my muzzle clean as the noise stopped, to be replaced by momentary gurgling and then naught but gently trickling blood and the steam of boiling entrails. I settled down to feed as cursing and shouting faded away and the convoy started moving again.

It wasn't that I wanted to kill and devour humans, no matter how tasty, but if I was going to eventually escape, then the more I was underestimated as nothing but a dumb, brutal beast, the better. At least that's what I kept telling myself, as I settled down on my belly to dig into the gently twitching meal beneath me and the swaying of the road lulled me to rest.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Arrival


The food was all gone and I wasn't sure whether I wanted to indulge in a proper tantrum or not to get more, seeing as that might get me a meal of hot lead instead of pork, long or regular. I wasn't exactly hungry, but it was the principle of the thing. I was a little peckish, but mostly just bored.

Ah, well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

I slammed myself into the sides of the truck once again, harder this time and with feeling, splintering wood and bending the strong, metal cage around the slats, earning another round of swearing and causing the truck to swerve, much as it had every previous time. Always a wheeze with these guys.

"Please fucking tell me we're there soon!" hissed Probably Brian.

"GPS says five minutes," replied Definitely Pete.

"I'm gonna go for three."

I should have been amazed I could hear them above the noise. The truck sped up, which was my cue to cause even more of a ruckus. I slammed into the 'front' of the cab, denting the wall.

"Holy shit! Drive!" hissed Definitely Pete.

"Fucking trying!" wailed Probably Brian.

Mm, yes, this had possibilities. Did I want to punish those two for their part in my kidnapping? Maybe? Ah who was I kidding. Definitely! I threw myself into the ceiling and it all but folded. I threw myself into the floor and it buckled, leaving the truck with a pronounced limp. I didn't know whether I'd burst a tire or just bent the superstructure to hell and back, but it caused a great deal of squawking on whatever passed for their radios as the ride got a lot bumpier. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea, I didn't exactly have a seatbelt.

Shortly after, the horrendous pel-mel pace of the journey came to a screeching, twisted halt and the sounds of two doors slamming open then shut punctuated the sudden silence as I shook my head from doing my best impression of a ping pong ball. Fuckers. They were supposed to come let me out so I could attack them!

I slammed myself repeatedly at the truck's sides, ceiling, back and floor until something finally gave, and then I threw myself out into the middle of a large, fenced-in square of relatively flat ground. Nostrils flaring, I whipped my head around as I glared at everyone and everything, hissing.

I found myself in the middle of a… paddock? Enclosure? Whatever the nomenclature, it was large and spacious, relatively speaking at least, ringed by double layers of what looked like hastily erected, probably electrified, barbed-wire topped fences. The entire installation was split into four. Each area was the size of at least an entire football field, with massive gates between them, and walkways between the electrified fences. There was nothing else in my section other than the wrecked truck.

Makeshift guard towers stood at opposite corners of one side, two in total, one per, presumably each one could cover almost the whole of the area between them, with the other filling in the blanks. Large caliber guns of some sort were mounted under the covered tops. They looked nasty. Fifty cals? Fucked if I knew, but I didn't want to find out just yet. I roared at them anyways, backing up, whip-cracking my tail and rattling my scales in a potent threat display.

I trotted over to one edge, then patrolled around the perimeter. Alright, alright, I could deal with this. One paddock over was food — obviously for me, judging by how it was mooing — and two others were filled with… creatures, some quadruped, the majority bipedal. More were being unloaded from other trucks in the convoy I'd been a part of. What the idea was these humans had I had no clue, but it was clear they were going to try to find a way to take advantage of us non-humans.

Had some or all of them been subjected to the same voices I had? Or the opposing ones? Had they been promised similar, or entirely different things?

"I'm hungry!" I roared, jogging back and snarling as I ran up and down the side of the field between me and my lunch. I wasn't, of course, or at least not really. I wouldn't mind a bite though.

I leaned carefully against the fence, yelping and falling back as the charge running through it jolted through my body. Okay, ow, that smarts. I wasn't immune to electricity. I didn't know if I was especially resistant, but the good news was that it wasn't enough to stop me. Not that I wanted them to know that.

I hammed it up a little, fleeing and squawking in apparent terror, then topped off my performance with a hissing roar of defiance and another couple of 'tries' against the barrier between me and my dinner. I heard the distant raucous laughter of watching soldiers. They were roughly lined up around the far outside of the four fields, watching along with the other creatures in the other two paddocks. That's right, laugh it up whilst you can. Glad you enjoyed the show, fuckers. I'd scope them out later, but for now I wasn't wanting to make friends.

Too bad they didn't have the same idea.

"On my mark, open the gates, let's see if we can get him to behave!" shouted a… Colonel? Lieutenant? Corporal? The head guy, a squat man about five eleven in height but built like a brick shithouse, complete with stubble on his chin. I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been smoking a cigar.

"Yes Sarge!" shouted a couple of sprightly youngsters, and the two ran to a nearby gatehouse of sorts.

A sergeant, huh? Okay. And that hut-thing was a control spot for this whole shebang. Good to know. Not that I'd need it to escape I figured, but, you know, plans within plans and all that.

"Now!"

I watched, biding my time, fluttering my wings, as large orange lights and loud sirens wailed, before the heavier gates between me and my next meal split in two. I trotted over to it happily, much to the displeasure of the cows on the other side. Yeah, yeah, yeah, come on, open up, that's it, come to Papa…

"That's enough! Hold it, boys!"

The sirens shut off, the lights kept going, and the doors creaked to a halt. Uh huh, power play time, was it? What's your plan, Sergeant Sausage? I guessed it was still my plan to play the big, dumb, hungry brute. And right now, that would be pretty easy. I roared in defiance and stalked frantically backwards and forwards between the two halves of the gate, snapping at the gap between the two which was definitely not big enough to let me through. Sure, I could force the issue, but I didn't want them to think electricity didn't work on me. I darted forwards, then gingerly stuck my head between the two halves.

The shriek of pain as I inevitably made contact with the metal didn't need to be faked, that shit hurt! I fell back, squalling loudly in frustration as I paid half-attention to the boots on the ground behind me. Ten, twenty men? I wasn't really sure how many, but a large number of what had to be very nervous soldiers — or militia, I had no idea if these guys were legit army or just taking advantage of the whole situation — were advancing on my position.

I whipped around to see Sergeant Sausage himself leading the pack, with at least half of them outfitted with makeshift heavy duty spears topped with what had to be a cattle prod. Props to him for putting himself out there, really, but I was going to kill any of them that got too close if I could, fair's fair.

I rumbled low, hissing and growling, as they approached. I didn't even bother with words, none were needed. We all understood the way of things here; I was the big bad monster that the plucky boys in, uh, green had captured. They intended to break my spirit and get me to dance to their tune, and my job was to punish them for the attempt and their hubris. I'm sure their interpretation of things would come out slightly differently, but truth was, I was planning on playing the subdued, cowed, good little pet as much as possible… for as long as it suited my plans, at least. Once I'd made them pay for it, of course, it can't be too easy, after all. I might not know what my plans were yet, but that was for future-me to deal with.

"Alright boys, now we're going to teach this critter that he eats when I say he eats! That he sleeps when I say he sleeps, and he shits when I say he shits, just like you pukes, ain't that right?" called the sergeant.

"SIR YES SIR!" came the massed reply from the men.

"Weapons ready! Cut 'im off! I don't want him even looking in the direction of dinner! Not until I say so!" The sergeant motioned for his men to spread out. I leveled my gaze at all of them, one at a time, growling, raising my wings and lashing my tail as I turned in a circle. "Yeah, that's right, pay attention… now DOWN!"

He jabbed his cattle-prod spear towards a spot somewhere above my shoulders and I instinctively ducked down. Damn, it wasn't quite supposed to go like that.

"Good, good… keep the pressure up, lads… DOWN!" He jabbed again, and again I flinched towards the ground.

"DOWN!" he shouted, but this time only gestured with his arm, and despite my foreknowledge of the game… flinched downwards.

"Good boy, that's right… right, right, alright… now open the gates! But keep the fucking sirens off! KEEP YOUR EYES ON ME!" His sudden outburst had everybody looking at him, including me. "That's right, Sunshine, I'm the boss, got it? I say what goes here, and the sooner you figure that out, the happier we'll all be… we're going to practice your new trick, boy, and that is… DOWN!"

Spear jab, shout, flinch.

Alright, I'll play along for now, but I'm going to get proper annoyed soon. I snarled and spun in a circle as the soldiers spread out.

"Keep the butts of your spears on the ground if he gets close!" Sarge shouted. "Angle them so he puts his own weight on 'em if he lunges, let him spear himself! And you!" He jabbed his spear at me, breaking from the killing circle to approach by a few feet, behind him the circle closed up. I snarled again as he moved, left and right. "That's right, keep on me! Got that gate open yet?"

There was a loud, clanging metallic crash behind me as the gate between sections opened all the way. I stopped and turned my head, snaking it around on my long neck. Ah, grub's up, don't mind if I do!

As I turned to barrel my way through to the other section, a sharp, crackling pain drew my attention back the other way. He'd… he'd stabbed me! He actually stabbed me! I roared in indignation and turned back. I lunged forwards but the damned electrified spear hurt if it even just grazed me. Not seriously, of course, but still. He may have stabbed me with it but it hadn't penetrated my armored hide. I doubted it would before the shaft would snap, not that I wanted to find out.

I backed up slightly, taking a breath. Okay, let's see… I can play his game and keep my attention on him until he's happy I'm listening, I can ignore him completely and just go, forcing my way through those idiot soldiers, but at the same time show that the cattle prods don't really do much but piss me off, or… well I didn't want to kill him yet, if I was too dangerous they might decide it wasn't worth their trouble to keep me alive and then I'd have to fight my way through the entire base and whatever extra ordnance they had here, and then after that I'd have to feed myself, so how about I just prove my point a little?

What's this? Tasty little human getting too close? That'll do, Pig, that'll do...

---

Once more with feeling. I will have to ration these a little as I'm burned out from life, on holiday, trying to sort out a whole buncha crap and just can't. On the other hand, smallish updates of ~1k words every couple days? I should be able to do that!

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Settling in


Jacob Smith, known as Sarge to everyone in the SPA, watched, eyes narrowed, as the dumb beast calculated its ugly face off. It was squirrely, this one. Hungry, as if they hadn't fed it plenty on the way in, and mean, but fundamentally not different to any other beast. It could be taught. Tamed, likely not, but taught? Definitely.

"Hyah! I said down!" He jabbed the spear forwards just as it thought about moving, which caused the beast to flinch and cower away, more or less as he wanted… but then the dumb fucker just had to reverse into a couple of his guys in the kill circle, which set it off again. The beast roared and howled, turning, its tail whipping about, which sent three good men tumbling. Immediately the beast capitalized on it, likely drawn by the motion, and it leaped like an oversized cat, splaying its foreclaws over the unfortunate puke, trapping him there.

Shit. That was O'Malley, a good kid, bit dim, didn't deserve to get eaten.

"Kill a cow, quickly!" Sarge shouted.

"Wha', but sir!" came a reply through the shouts of dismay and anger as the soldiers fought to try to save their compatriot.

"Gut it! Blood in the wind, you puke! Do it! Now!"

Sarge ran forwards, stabbing with his cattle-prod spear whilst several from the crowd ran across the pen. "Get off of him! Off!"

The beast roared and snarled, twisting and turning as the man beneath his claws spat and blubbered, alternately angry and sobbing at his predicament, very much unable to move, the dragon above him lashing out like a cat with its claws at anybody getting close enough.

There was a gunshot, and then the beast stopped, raised its head, and sniffed.

"Get clear, this side! I want it to want to get off O'Malley! Hyah! Dinner's served over there you big lizard! Go on, git!"

***

They had left me an out. How cute. For a long moment, I debated killing this kid — kid? He looked older than I used to! — to teach them a lesson. I bent my head towards his body, curling what lips I had back over my jaws, showing my teeth. How oddly faceless this human seemed to me right now. I knew I should be able to recognize features, but… I wasn't seeing it. Was it eye shape? Hair color? Something about the nose? All these humans looked the same to me. They all smelled of soap and sweat and too much deodorant. They all tasted the same too. It took great effort, or great annoyance, to spot the difference.

The world seemed to pause. The shouting of the other soldiers dimmed in my ears, Sarge's blathering silenced.

"Please," said the soldier beneath me, quietly, "don't kill me, I'll do anything!"

I looked down at him, tilting my head. "Your obeisance is acceptable," I said. "Lie still."

He stilled. Only then did I notice the hand he had on a knife he'd finally managed to pull from a pocket.

"Drop it," I said. "Drop the knife." He did so, though I wasn't sure he knew what he was doing. Interesting.

The world returned to focus. Time I let Sarge have his way. This time.

"-ff him! Down!"

I whipped my head up to stare at Sarge, then pointedly backed off of O'Malley… and turned and thundered my way across the enclosure, into the next pen, where I fell upon the large cow, belly already slit open, digging my head into its guts as I pulled out tasty organ after tasty organ and cracking the bones to get at the juicy marrow.

As I licked blood and more from my chops, I peered about, half because I needed to scope out the place still, and half to make sure nobody else was dumb enough to try to take my food.

Four at least football-field sized open areas, split by doubled up, electrified fences, makeshift gates between them, the two on my 'pen' motorized, other gates leading outside. Something wrong with the sky, something wrong with the horizon, something wrong with the world, something wrong with the sun. Hmm. The more I looked, the less this struck me as a legitimate army, and more as some sort of militia; they were probably one of those 'end-times' prepper groups obsessed with the return of this and that mythical figure. Huh, guess they were half-right at least. Idly I wondered if they owned this land or just seized it during the panic.

I took another few bites from my meal, watching the rest of the cattle as they fought over themselves to get as far away from me as possible but also to not go anywhere near the fences. That had some possibilities. I wondered idly if this section had lower voltages on the fences or not. Or maybe they could turn it up.

Across the way was what seemed to be an exercise yard; some bleachers were set up where the folks who could be sitting on them could be seen by both gun towers, there was what seemed to be some large tires, a court of some sort for basketball or similar, some weights, and a whole host of two and four footed creatures wandering around semi-listlessly, at least where they weren't watching me and my antics.

The other, diagonally opposed section had some tents and a few more permanent looking shacks, some sort of shanty town growing up. If that got any more full, they'd be out of space. That just cemented my idea that whatever was going on here was vague at best and just reactionary at worst. These idiots had no idea what they were doing, that or they were doing things for somebody else and didn't understand that either.

Okay, show's over. Time to go 'home'.

I picked up what was left of my meal — waste not, want not after all — and trotted my way back to my section of the compound, dragging the carcass in my mouth all the way. My quarter had the truck in it, which I tromped up back into, to settle down with my meal and wait for my next opportunity to teach these humans who was boss.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Early Bird post today because today is 11.11 and, although I will not get political in any asides ever, I am quite content to say:

"Lest We Forget"
​

---

​

Morning Reverie

The annoying bugle call lasted just as long as it took me to leap out of bed, heave myself down the trailer ramp and roar mightily, throwing myself at the electrified fences. Whether it hurt me or not, I was going to get them to knock that shit off immediately.

After a few minutes of relatively golden silence — I didn't let them have it all their way even then, roaring and complaining and stalking up and down the fences — I padded back to my trailer. Once there, I pointedly began gnawing on the cow skull in the opening of the bed. I saw the way the soldiers looking my way turned green. That's right, fucks, piss me off and this could be you. The last few who'd tried it hadn't lasted as long.

Since I was awake, and didn't particularly feel like getting up just yet, I decided to take up my new sport whilst I finished breakfast; people watching. Almost as interesting as those shitty streaming services, and a lot cheaper. My nostrils flared as I caught the scents of the various creatures milling about; they'd been similarly woken by the obnoxious recorded bugle and were now getting fed and watered and setting up for whatever passed for exercise in the corner section from me.

I peered around to see what specifics I could catch on the far side of the complex. Were-creatures and dwarves? Quadrupeds, another centaur or two, no elves? Informative, if it held true.

The two gun towers weren't really pointed at me either, though I had been rather noisy, so they didn't see anything strange about me or my actions. To be honest, they weren't really pointed at anything in particular, and could regularly be found scanning the horizon outside of whatever this weird base I found myself in was. These silly humans believed they were safe. I would teach them hubris soon enough.

I was coming to the conclusion that this 'base' was actually some sort of commandeered, possibly-ex, mining operation, though when it had been commandeered was beyond me. It could have been really recently, it could have been a long time ago. What looked like coal or at least rubble was piled up surrounding the four enclosures I and the other prisoners here were contained in, to form ridged wall-mounds surrounding what I'd have to call the bailey if I was going to talk castles at all. They formed killing fields, should anything attack from the 'outside'. I'd bet dollars to donuts that where we all were situated used to be some sort of mass storage yard.

They'd either acted fast or had had most of this ready before everything happened. Maybe they were just that paranoid.

Actually either choice wouldn't have surprised me, so I was going to go with a little of both, to be safe.

I could see what appeared to be sheds for maintenance of various machinery — now filled with jeeps and what looked like maybe a tank or two — and some administration buildings plus a lot of tall cylindrical buildings and long metal-covered tracks of this and that. I flared my nostrils; yep, I could still smell the foul odor that I at least associated with heavy industry; cloying smoke and fumes.

My stomach rumbled, and then so did I. Plans changed. I got up, stretching, then padded down my ramp to take a better look around. Food was still on the wrong side of the fence, this would not do. I paced up and down the barrier between me and the now-frantic cows who seemed determined to stay as far away from me as I could. This too had possibilities.

Eventually my would-be keepers got the message as I got increasingly vocal about my displeasure and some soldiers were sent in to separate a cow from the herd. I watched them as they moved about, so much like the cow. True, their motions spoke of predators rather than prey species, but really… when you're a dragon, everything is prey.

As I sensed — hearing? Motion in my peripheral vision? Tremor-sense? It mattered not — Sarge and a few other would-be wranglers enter my domain, I let my mind wander a bit.

The voices from… whenever it was — a day or two ago by now, my sense of time was screwy — hadn't been back, but I could feel them there, lurking in the dark, watching and waiting. I hadn't really thought about… before. Being human. Intellectually, I could see that it should bother me, but it did not. I'd fought and I'd killed, and I'd roared and spat acid, I was at least a ton of armored killing machine, more likely several, made of teeth and claws, covered in bullet-resistant scaly hide. The fact I'd been a human before was… an observation, no more.

I knew it really should worry me, but when you're a dragon, not much truly concerns you beyond your immediate requirements, and then only briefly before you have what you desire.

What should it be today? The prime lesson of "do not trap a dragon in the corner"? Maybe another general lesson in "meddle not" would be a good one, not that I had any designs on any amount of ketchup, but idle thoughts and all that.

Yes, yes, puny humans, I see you. Oh, look, O'Malley is with them. I could… feel him, somehow. He was still mine. Curiouser and curiouser.

I spun and hissed, roaring and flaring my wings as they got too close, letting their relative positioning lure me away from the gate between myself and my breakfast. It was almost humorous how several tons of angry dragon can get even the hardiest of soldiers to back up a good few feet.

I let them jab and jeer a while, swiping with paws and claws, until once again Sarge felt it necessary to issue the order of 'Down!'.

After the third utterance, I felt it would be amusing enough to see what he'd think of my capitulating to actually do it. I crouched down, though my back was arched like a cat's and my tail lashed dangerously. I could pounce him like this. It would be so easy. It took him a good long moment to properly react, and I fixed my gaze on him when he spoke.

"That's… that's right. Down. Down… Okay, everyone back away, he, uh, needs to know that behaving leads to good things happening… just don't take your eyes off him, he's wily. Sanders, that gate open?"

"Sarge, yes Sarge," replied Sanders, a tall orange-haired soldier with blue eyes.

"Alright, how about the other cows?" asked Sarge, eyes not leaving mine. He kept making 'down' motions with one hand, the cattle prod spear hung behind his legs and gripped firmly in the other.

"Still… still in there, sir, we… didn't really think about that part of this."

"Nothing for it then, let him have it. Kill one for him, split it open, like before."

"Sir."

I pretended to watch him, growling softly, until the wind changed and that enticing, metallic scent reached my nostrils. Sorry Sarge, that's the dinner bell.

Head up, whip the gaze around, flare the nostrils… up and spin and charge my way to breakfast. I tail-slapped two soldiers who were sloppy enough to get too close, sending them flying. Might have broken something, didn't care.

I charged through the gateway to the other side of the fence and set upon the steaming remains of one of the herd. As I pulled squishy, warm, tasty organs out and licked the blood from my muzzle and claws again, I wondered whether even pretending was too far towards actually doing what they wanted. It was all well and good that they knew they had to bring me food, but to let them actually give it to me like they had earned the right to dictate when I ate? It rankled, too much of this and I might as well roll over and show them my belly, I might as well grow fat and useless, warming their feet by the fire, nothing more than a glorified pet.

That was it, then, I'd have to start making them pay for any further wins or I'd have to find a really good reason to continue laying low. I wouldn't set myself any particular time frame for my revenge, but to carry on getting too comfortable was no longer acceptable.

First though, I decided it was time to meet my neighbors. And to do that? It was time for a stampede. I got up and stretched. Then I looked down. Okay correction, first it was time for second breakfast, then it was time for a stampede. And then maybe a snack.

***

Jacob Smith was a man of few talents, but what talents he did have he was pretty good at, and knowing when Charlie was about to Foxtrot was definitely one of them. This was going to be a long day, he could tell, if they could still be called that. Not that he had another name for things. The voices hadn't said, not that he'd trust them to be telling the whole truth if they had. Not that he wanted to listen to them either, they just had ways of making themselves heard and were very hard to ignore. He still wasn't quite sure how what they were doing here was supposed to work, but when the balloon goes up, you don't have much choice but to react.

He slurped his coffee. The ruddy great greedy lizard was sizing up the rest of the herd, even whilst it was still less than halfway through the first cow. Grimly, he wondered whether they'd been lucky the past 'day' given the amount of food it had allegedly consumed back in Stokerville, and whether the Provisional Army would need to source more cattle in the very near… yup, there it goes.

As he drank his coffee — black, the way mother nature intended — he idly watched how the fucking lizard roared and heaved itself into the middle of the entire fucking herd like it was having fun, scattering them. It probably was. He took another long sip as the dragon then happily chased the animals around until he got them good and frothing, then herded them together as he chased them to the other end of the… oh fuck.

"Open the gates!" he roared. Fuck it, he wasn't about to let that creature slaughter the entire fucking herd, or have he and his men be forced to listen as the mortally wounded things shrieked in pain until somebody else put them out of their misery, nor deal with the damage as they slammed themselves up against the only protection he and his men had from the bastards held within.

Somebody, somewhere, had royally fucked up this whole plan. And Jacob worried it was him.

***

The cows were almost distressingly easy to kill. I chased them up the field and down the field and back up and then just obliterated one, almost tearing it in half as I leaped at it. Idiots, did they have any idea what they were doing, these pretend soldiers, when they trapped something like me and decided to keep me alive? If I hadn't been, well, me, they'd have been slaughtered to the last man at least as easily as this cow. I licked my lips, I could still do that… but no. First, visiting hours were open.

After I killed the first cow, I stampeded them back up and around and back down and… ah, finally I got what I wanted. The gate to the next area was opening. I forced the cows back down towards it and I followed them through before they could close it again. I killed another cow because if I was possibly going to be stuck here I'd need a snack anyhow, then set about checking my surroundings.

Several humans attacked me before they could be warned off by their compatriots, whilst many more ran for their lives. I killed the nearest three swiftly, then headed after the fourth who'd attacked, but as this last one was limping, he drew a knife and slashed at a fellow straggler, the smaller creature going down with a cry, his oddly coloured blood darkening the gravel.

What a dick move.

I slowed at the injured figure and peered down at it. Scales, a muzzle, a tail… it was a small creature, kind of draconic in nature — it smelled like me, not that that would have made sense to the me of several days ago — with no wings and a relatively short tail. He — and I could tell he was a he — would have been no more than four or so feet tall at the most, though with said tail he would have counted as longer. The wicked, unlucky slash had opened his belly, and I thought I saw innards poking out.

I won't lie, I drooled.

"Great… great one," he wheezed, the language he was speaking unfamiliar and yet somehow entirely comprehensible to me, "I am here, for you." every breath he took was labored. "Take me into your service, I am…" he coughed wetly, "I can be of use to a Great One in one way, still, even… even like this. All I ask is to avenge me."

He rolled over, fully exposing his belly, where he'd been split open by the fleeing human. I could see him resign himself to his fate.

"You want me to eat you?" I rumbled softly, somewhat in shock, not expecting an answer.

"If that is what you desire."

I tilted my head at him, then made a decision. I had no clue if this would work, and if it didn't, then I could at least put him out of his misery. "Your obeisance is acceptable. Hold your hide together, this may hurt."

"Great One?" he asked, confused.

"Hold your guts together, put everything inside, right inside, then keep your paws as clear as you can. This will definitely hurt. It may not work, but… I will try to save your life."

"Yes… yes Great One." I could sense something like hope burgeoning in him, even through what had to be burning pain.

Who was I to turn down the first willing ally I had encountered in all this madness? I watched as he, tears in his eyes, pushed as hard as he dared with his claws to make sure his boiling intestines were back out of sight, and then I dipped my head, mentally felt around with my mouth closed, squeezed, then as carefully as I was able, dribbled spit-diluted acid from between my teeth onto the wound. Edge to edge and back again, then I turned and spat, then licked the hissing, bubbling scar as it formed until it quieted, sealing the two halves like disgusting superglue.

"Don't move," I said to him gently, "for a while. Let go when it feels… dry. I will return shortly, then pretend to be drooling over your carcass, deciding what to eat first."

I stood and inspected my prize, then ambled back to the three dead humanoids and my second or third cow of the day. I could see other humanoids on the far side of the field, glaring my way but unwilling to approach. The soldiers were tense and watching too, but not interfering. They would probably get annoyed soon enough, but tough luck, I was going to take my time.

The three humanoids were easy to eat, at least once I'd unwrapped them. I could eat almost anything, but didn't really like the taste of clothing, and preferred meat to metal, not to speak of the idea of eating swords being a health hazard. I wolfed the probably-humans down one after another in the space of a few minutes, barely even chewing, then grabbed the cow by the back of the neck and dragged it back to the what had to be a kobold. Ah, that had hit the spot. I was feeling much more sociable now that I'd eaten.

The kobold was mine now too, like the soldier; I could feel him somehow, like a piece of food stuck between your teeth, or an itch between your shoulder blades or… something equally noticeable, but far less distracting and unpleasant.

I held the cow down with one front paw, then tore off a hunk of meat. I spat it next to his head. "Try to take what is mine, you will lose your limbs. Refuse what I give, and you may live to regret it. That is for you. Eat it, carefully. Tear it into small chunks and chew properly, if you have injuries to your insides and you are not careful, you may die." I bent my head and filled my mouth, chewing and swallowing with gusto. "You may die anyway, I am not a healer. Call your friends over, I would have words with them." I glared around this part of the facility, and now I could spot two or three more kobolds skirting cautiously around where I lay.

"Great… Great One," he wheezed, obviously still in pain. That wasn't something I could help him with, though since he was still alive I could only hope for him that it would get better sooner rather than later. I watched him idly as, with fresh tears in his eyes, he plucked the hunk of raw meat from the ground, brushed off the grit and dirt, and carefully took small bites, wincing with every wrong movement.

"I will call you Scar," I said, off-handedly. "For obvious reasons."

"Then I am 'Scar'," he answered, enunciating painfully. I could hear the hitch in his breath, his voice dropping off as I rumbled in annoyance. The others were approaching. "They are… with me?" he offered.

I don't think so. Plans change. It was time.

"No, they're with me."

​

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Just a quickie (that's what she said). Questions? Comments? Snarks? I hope you're enjoying it. I'll improve with feedback, but as long as it's being enjoyed I'll keep on posting, and the first arc is more or less done...

---

Bold Approach


"You may approach," I said to the three new kobolds as they came within earshot, interested to see if this whole 'understanding me' business was endemic. "I will snap and snarl, so keep your distance, but I wish to talk. We must perform for the crowd."

So saying, I roared and snarled, growling, rattling my scales as I very carefully put my claws over Scar's body. The three approaching kobolds blanched and kept their distance, but after some uneasy glances between each other, one of them stepped a hair closer. I could tell none of us were speaking English even though to me it was as if I was, and it made my understanding and my words… different than before. It was confusing.

"You are a… a Great One? Are you alone? Do you bring any…" I could see the wizened kobold who was speaking to me was searching for words that would not offend me. Wise of him maybe, but at least superficially irritating in how much time he could waste in this manner. He was clearly older than Scar, the fetishes he wore on his person were faded with age, the material threadbare. He hung on a twisted wooden staff nearly twice as tall as he was, the almost gray wood thick and gnarled, the three branches that split from the top gathering into a point, enclosing some sort of gem that dimly glowed yellow.

"I am a dragon, and you are a kobold, yes? Scar here tells me you are with him. He offered himself to me, and I have accepted him into my service. That's apparently a thing I can do now. I would accept you too if you wish."

"He… he has spared my life," moaned Scar, "I do not know if I shall live past this night, but by His grace, I will try."

The elderly kobold ducked his head, thoughtfully. "There are other dragons here in this realm?"

I grinned between playful snaps, unnerving as I knew it could be, before growling again and turning as if protecting my food from interlopers. "There is at least one. This one. I wasn't one before. You still wish to serve?" I watched, unblinking, as our words filtered through the elderly kobold's brain.

"You are… born from this realm?"

I continued to stare, amused, as the kobold pondered. I could tell from his body language and even how he smelled that he wasn't rejecting my offer, he was just… confused. This wasn't anything like what he'd expected.

"I need a good man to tell me of my kind," I whispered. "I will reward where I can, I will punish where I can. I will do what I want in either event, but if you follow me, you will have to do as I bid, even if you may not like or understand what I have to say."

The elder kobold considered my words for a good moment before speaking, leaning on his staff. "As of a score of nights past, we find ourselves trapped in this realm. We have been a tribe without a master for many years before this, many of us never daring to seek out one of your kind, Great One, for they are… fickle."

I chuckled, between continuing our 'dance'. "Understandable."

"And now we are here, with a Great One at claw. We would follow you, if you would have us. We will fight for you, die for you, live for you. This world is… not ours. But it is yours. Lead us. Lead our tribe. If ever we needed a Great One, it is now."

"Your obeisance is accepted. You, my friend, I will call Tucker. One day I may explain why. Go now, fetch me something more filling than little Scar here, place it far enough away that I must move to take it, and then take Scar with you for healing when I do so."

There was a sudden expansion of the feeling from Scar and O'Malley, as the three new kobolds entered into my service, along with a surge of warmth, heat, deep in my belly.

"Ah! My magic!" said the elderly female, a tone of wonder in her voice. "Scar will survive now, Great One, that you have blessed us with your patronage, my Arts have returned!"

I rumbled, confused, even as the matron sent the third — a much younger female — off to the cow to fetch me my food. "Patronage?"

"You, Lord, are our Conduit in this land. Through us, your power increases. Through you, our magic flourishes. With you as our Lord, we will have a fighting chance again against these other lesser races. They underestimate us, prey on us, but now… now we have you."

I gave them magic? They gave me power? Sure, why not? I'll take what I can get.

"In that case, we must speak again later, when it is night. Tell your tribe…" I pondered again for a moment, a wild plan forming, "if you can, I give you permission in my name to induct others into my service, Matron, Tucker, Scar. If they swear to you to follow me, then it is as if I had offered it, and I will accept your decision in my stead."

Matron hissed in surprise. "We are honored, Lord."

"I… I will be able to visit you tonight," croaked Scar, "Your Grace willing."

I looked down at the small creature. "I will be in my section of this prison, are you sure?"

Scar laughed throatily, coughing and wincing, "I have my ways, now."

"Hmm, then prepare for your final performance until we meet again." I looked up. "When the young one brings me my food, you must dart in and save poor Scar here from being eaten as I pounce on the cow. Ready? Go!"

The youngster by now had cut off several large pieces of the cow and was struggling to bring them closer. She chattered to several more kobolds that had approached her to help, and they made a pile of meat and bones just far enough away that I couldn't eat both Scar and it, so, making a huge fuss, I leaped upon the offering and began to devour it. Scar was swiftly dragged away, and then turned my attention on the other animals I'd killed. Finally, almost enough of a meal. I began to retrace my steps, pointedly ignoring as the gates were shut behind me.

After a while, I found myself wandering back to my trailer with the last cow carcass in tow. Scar would come to visit me, he said. I wondered idly how he was going to do that.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Nightfall


As night drew in, it took me a long while to realize exactly what was wrong with the world, which in hindsight made me wonder how I'd missed it.

The sun was wrong. It hadn't moved through the sky properly all day, it hadn't since this had all started, and now it wasn't setting normally either, it was somehow just… receding. The sun shrunk in size and power until it was no more bright than the moon, then less. For a few minutes I wondered if I'd misunderstood what had happened, but then the actual moon came up, or more accurately over… and then I noticed other celestial objects, other planets in the sky. They were all the wrong size, far too big, moving wrongly.

Something was very, very wrong with not only the Earth, but the sky, and with outer space itself. We were no longer on anything remotely resembling a planet, or rather our planet was… no longer a planet. It was something else entirely, something that would take years to untangle, if it was even possible for us to understand without entirely new branches of knowledge.

Still, night of a sort fell and it grew dark and I settled in to sleep, pondering the impossibility above me. I had felt spark after spark somewhere under my scales as time wore on, as kobold after kobold agreed to join with Scar, Tucker and Matron. Each one stoked the fire in my belly, until some kind of threshold was passed, and suddenly I could almost feel exactly where they were, even dimly sensing things around them. And even curiouser, Scar was approaching, at speed. I glanced towards where he was approaching from and saw nothing, but still he moved closer. He was through the fences? How?

Shadows in motion stirred somehow behind me, and then there he was, Scar, looking a lot healthier than he had earlier in the day.

"Greetings, Great One," he said, bowing his head and lowering his body. I hid my surprise as best I could.

"That was quite the trick. Can you teach it to me?"

"I… don't think so?" he replied, scratching at the now-healed scar across his chest. It still looked rather raw, but if I hadn't seen it myself, I would have thought it a much older wound.

"Pity. Your tribe, how goes it?"

"All have joined your service, my lord."

I nodded, slowly. "Good. Good. First you will tell me about them, and then I will have some orders for you all."

There were some thirty or forty plus kobolds all in all in the tribe; maybe a third of the adults were female, more than half the youngsters followed suit. The rest and current majority were males. I got the feeling that this was not normal for them. A handful of each were winged, though I wasn't confident in how far or even if they could fly. Urds, these were apparently called, and they held themselves somewhat separate from the rest. I decided I would put a stop to that at once; if these creatures were all mine now, I wasn't going to have infighting and I needed everybody to stand behind everyone. Unity is strength.

"You must listen carefully, my friend," I whispered to Scar. His tufty ears pricked and his snout turned my way from where he'd been glaring at the gun towers, who now had their searchlights going to at least make it look like they were keeping watch. "The humans here are ignorant of what they are dealing with. To them, I am nothing but a similarly ignorant brute — calm!" I snorted when I saw how angry this made him. "Calm yourself. Even now their suspicions are piqued because even through my roaring and growling at you all today, I did not devour you. However, it will take them a while to change their opinions if I am careful and you are too. You will not do anything to speed that change, as their ignorance is our strength. Am I understood?"

Scar nodded, gripping his daggers tightly. "Yes Lord."

"Good, now tell me more, how is it you are so healthy? The Matron said her Arts had returned?"

"Y-yes, Lord," Scar said, dipping his head once more. "We are kobolds, Lord. We are small under the skies, mere motes, slivers and sparks, of the metal that you were forged from. But some, like th-the Matron, are learned in the Arts. Our Shamans can heal, or th-they can again now, Lord, now that we have you."

"I gave you this power?"

"In this realm? Yes, Lord."

"And with more of you, my power grows?"

"Lord, I… I do not really understand these things, but… you grant us your power, as we grant you our fealty. You grant us the power that is rightfully yours to wield, and we wield it through and for you."

"So when people join my service, my… you called it a Conduit?" Scar nodded. "Grows. And that gives you more power in return. What can the tribe do with this power?"

"We are… not yet that strong, but with even this small amount of power… uh…"

I snorted, as I could see that Scar was now cringing away from me at the unintended insult. "Pah! Above all, I am realistic, Scar. I am not so full of myself that I would punish you for stating the truth. I'm far more likely to punish you, or anyone, for lying to me."

I could see the kobold relaxed, though it was slow going.

"Carry on, tell me."

"With… with the powers we have regained, we can hold our own amongst the others here. We take back our rightful place, as servants of the Great One."

"How? Fireballs? Flight? Invisibility?"

"Y-yes! The Great One is wise!"

Well well well. This could get interesting.

"And these powers had previously been… inaccessible?"

"Yes! Without them, we are… weak. We make traps, weapons, babies, but in this place… we are weak, all we had were our bodies. But now! Now we are strong!"

Ohhh yes, this definitely was getting interesting.

"So do we have healing powers too? Can there be shields? I need a full list, Scar. I will need a full list of all the powers and how many wield them all. And more than that, I need you to answer me one more question."

"Yes?"

"If I get others who aren't kobolds to join my service, and they had magic before, would they get magic again, in my service?"

"Y-yes, Lord, it is… likely."

"Then, my friend, I have a difficult task for you all. I want you to take this offer to everyone who will listen…"

---

Are these too small? I like shorter chapters with this story for some reason, they're easier to play around with.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Is the text properly readable to you guys? Copy and paste is sometimes a bit funky.

---

Wheels Turn


Scar stood, semi-crouched, in front of the beastman, Vengis. He shivered, he could feel the Itch that told him changes were coming for him, but he would serve the Great One no matter what. The pantherkin was at least listening, probably because when the humans are oppressing everything non-human, then at least the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

"So tell me again, lizard," asked the beastman, "you are servants of that dragon they've captured," he waved a paw towards the far enclosure, but was interrupted by Scar, who growled.

"He has let himself be caught. You saw how easily he killed those three fools."

Vengis chuffed in acknowledgement. "Agreed. Fine. Your master there is offering… what, exactly?"

"Follow him, and you will get your Arts back."

"Follow? Pledge myself to a dragon?"

"Yes."

For a long moment there was silence. Just a few nights ago, Vengis would have sneered at most of these vermin. He'd known kobolds before, of course, but they made poor servants and odd compatriots at best… but then so did most other races. The humans were generally as arrogant towards his kind as he was to kobolds, even other beastmen thought their own gifts superior to Vengis' own obviously favored state. And now, the pantherkin found himself adrift in an alien realm, at the mercy of alien humans who seemed determined to look down even on others of their own kind, and who wielded powerful guns the likes of which none had ever seen before. They'd paid for his capture in blood, as even without his more treasured abilities he was a competent fighter, but should he regain even a fraction of his skills? He looked over at the dragon. In exchange for service to it, he would bathe this world in the blood of both their enemies.

"And I will get my magic back?"

The kobold nodded, enthusiastically.

Vengis laughed, feeling a fire light in his belly that had been missing since his ignominious defeat. "If this were any other time and place, lizard, I would call you mad." Then he narrowed his eyes, whiskers and black furred tail twitching. "But then the beast did save your life, that is clear. Test me then, ask."

"Do you promise yourself to the Great One so long as you live, to follow these three rules? To never intentionally harm, nor intentionally allow to come to harm by inaction, another of the Great One's servants? To follow the edicts of the Great One save for the first law, in word and spirit thus uttered? And finally, to seek to preserve your own life, save in following the first two laws?"

Vengis blinked as the scarred one recited the orders for the Oath he would take. "That… that is it?" Scar nodded. "Your master is a very strange master. Does he realize I am charged with preventing even the Great One from harming another of his slaves?"

Scar glared, baring his teeth and lifting his daggers. "We are not slaves! I was not compelled, I offered. You will be no slave either. Do not speak ill of the Great One!"

Vengis shook his head. He weighed the three laws in his mind against each other. What kind of creature creates a law to protect its thralls against itself? The more he thought about it, the more he came to the same, crazy conclusion. The kind of creature he would want to follow into battle.

"I do so swear it, little Scar. How do I…" he paused, as Scar grinned. "Ahhh, you are clever, you little bastard." He flicked his paw open, and shadowy claws covered his own. "Well then I guess I am in. Now what?"

"Get more followers. More who will listen, until we have enough to make sure that those do not can be turned away without them getting in our way, permanently if need be."

Vengis turned his head once more to where the dragon was, even now, in the middle of snarling and growling at the humans, seemingly being cowed into submission before batting one or two of the unlucky creatures away as if they were leaves in a storm. It seemed crazy that that beast was some sort of… he caught the eye of the dragon as it whirled and spun, and in that instant, Vengis felt the weight of the dragon's attention settle on him for a brief moment. It was both unsettling and heartwarming. He'd never had a Patron before, had never wanted one. He… was surprised to find that if you'd asked him moments before, he would have tried to deny wanting one, but now he couldn't lie. His Oath was true, and he couldn't not want to have the dragon as his master. The only comfort in that was that he was able to rationally agree with the notion that, as far as masters went, those three laws told him all he needed to know about the quality of his new lord.

Alignment be damned, that dragon wanted him to belong to his hoard, for as long as Vengis could keep breathing. And nobody but nobody was foolish enough to try to get in the way of what a dragon wants. Not for long.

He interlocked his paws behind his head and stretched as he showed his teeth in a wide, wide grin. Kobolds! Hah! At least the Great One's edicts didn't include forcibly living with them, they had a certain odor about them. Then again, humans said the same about all beastmen, beastmen said it about humans… then again then again, by the strictest interpretation of the Great One's orders, these kobolds could be made to bathe properly and learn basic hygiene. This had possibilities for endless fun.

Vengis whistled a jaunty tune as he wandered across the prison yard to various friendly and not so friendly groups to fulfill the dragon's edict to swell the troops, feeling the familiar surge of power within his veins with every note. Soon enough things would change, he could tell, then he'd be able to start getting some payback against… how interesting! A fellow brother amongst the humans keeping them prisoner? Would wonders never cease…

 

[turbofluffysnek]

You know, there are things I want in this story which, seeing as it's nominally set in fantasy america, are going to be pretty hard for me to do without somebody getting the entirety of their panties in all kinds of twists about them.

I just don't know if I can bring it up without causing screeching from the peanut gallery, or ignore it without similarly causing at least some amount of screeching.

I'm in a kind of damned if I do, damned if I don't place, which... well, I don't give a damn if having it there at all upsets people, because the ability of the MC to extract a magically compelled geas/oath is a major part of the character and the world itself, but I have actively less than zero interest in wading into current real world issues because said screeching can get so unhinged.

So consider this your only warning: whatever I do, people causing what I see as trouble will be, as far as I am able, summarily ignored and ejected. People wanting to discuss it, insofar as it is a part of what I write, you're welcome to it. Bringing up real world things with that, that aren't directly in here? Nope, not interested. I won't stop you but whoever runs this place might, none of my business at that point unless you're making reading the actual stupid story unpleasant.

Of course, people silently reading this as they sip their morning coffee/tea/beverage of choice can also be assured: This isn't some sort of statement about what people have, can and do do to each other, it's a fantasy story about a world gone wonky, enjoy it for what it is, not what it isn't. I'm pleased if you're having fun.

Thank you.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Puzzle Pieces


Roaring — truly an underrated and most versatile ability, and very cathartic, almost as much as a good gnaw at a truly prodigious bone — at my foes, I swung my tail. The snap and crackle of the electricity surging through their eponymous staffs little more than background noise in the song of battle. Ah, this was fun! It served well to get the appetite up in the morning. I leaped at a group of three soldiers who'd gotten too close to one another, shouldering aside two of them to pin the third with my claws. I snarled down at him, moving to bite his face off before allowing the other two to push me off of him before my jaws could close.

This had all started so well for the silly humans, until I decided it shouldn't. Now at least one human had a broken arm, at least one a broken leg and several more had to have at least bruised ribs. I was learning how they fought, but in return they were learning how I fought.

It had become a ritual over the last few days to try to cow me into submission before feeding me breakfast. Similarly, it had become my ritual to either 'act out' or submit as my whim took me. Slowly they were learning that if they waited too long before answering my call to be fed, that I would not be placated with a single cow. I could, however, be tempted with pig, sheep or goats. And if none of those were made available, I would most definitely take human.

I taught them hubris one limb at a time. I also taught them not to speak ill of me within hearing distance, not that I thought they quite understood what was happening when I picked certain days to relieve myself upwind of certain members of their little army. I just knew it infuriated them, but I had to mark my territory, after all.

"O'Malley!" I called, though I knew he wouldn't understand me directly. "Face me!"

Dutifully, though clearly not quite cognizant of that fact, the youngster I had enchanted first swung out from his friends to face off against me. I immediately spun and circled him, getting a good look at him. He seemed healthy enough, recovered from my tender ministrations.

"What are you doing, Son?" yelled Sarge. "Back in formation!"

"I got this, Sir!" he answered, as if he knew what he was doing.

"Got what? He'll kill you!"

"Maybe Sir, but… but I have to do this!" Sean O'Malley had a determined look in his eyes, his teeth gritted. Jacob swore under his breath. The kid had seemed fine up until now, where had this death wish come from? It wasn't as if this training session trying to get that damned to follow commands was going that well!

"You idiot! I'll—"

I leaped, wings half-spread, before Sarge could finish his threat, and allowed Sean to jab his spear towards me. I batted it aside, landed, and circled again.

"Listen to my words, but do not show you hear them to the others," I growled, eyes fixed on him. "I have orders for you. You will not harm any of my subjects, through action or inaction. You will continue to follow my orders, unless they conflict with my first order. And you will keep yourself alive, unless it conflicts with the other two. By these orders you will live your life. If you have understood, you will order me down, and I shall permit you to touch me."

"Down!" Sean O'Malley said, throwing one arm wide and gesturing with the other.

Jacob's eyes bulged at the stupidity of the… "Well fuck me sideways."

He watched as the stupid kid — everyone younger than him by at least five years was 'kid' — approached the dragon warily. What the hell was going on?

"Sarge? Sarge! What the fuck do I do now?" Sean asked, almost panicking. He'd gone too far to back out, any retreat could set off the beast's hunting instinct. He'd caught its interest, and the two were circling each other. Well, the dragon was doing the circling but Sean was keeping up.

"Keep… keep your eyes on him. Don't show any fear. The gate's opening, he'll work it out soon enough."

"I'm… not afraid, Sarge, I just… what do I do?" Sean seemed lost but driven, and very confused. Jacob waved the rest of the men back from the two, no point losing anybody else if this went tits up.

"Whatever the fuck you do, don't get any… I said don't get any closer! Jesus Fuck Christ wept…" Jacob watched as the kid walked slowly up to the dragon that had killed or injured a good many of his men in the last week or so and put out a hand onto the creature's muzzle. Jacob held his breath as a dopey smile formed on the kid's face; any moment now he'd be down another kid, or the kid would be down a hand, or… his head whipped around as the gate to the cow paddock finally clanged open, a motion mirrored by the bloody dragon's own head on its long, sinuous neck.

Sean was knocked flat on his back as the dragon galloped towards its food. Jacob was half convinced the kid was dead, but instead of crying out in pain, the kid burst out laughing.

"I did it!" Sean crowed.

"I don't know what you thought you were doing," gruffed Jacob, offering a hand up, "but whatever it was, you did it." He gripped the boy's arm tightly, and pulled. With a single heave the kid got to his feet.

"Sorry Sarge, I… I don't know what came over me. Didja see me though? I touched him. He let me touch him!"

Jacob nodded, worry creasing his brow. "Yeah, I saw, kid, I saw."

***

Vengis was… slippery. Still, I liked him. He seemingly knew exactly where I had itchy scales and knew exactly how to deal with them. I could forgive the smug look on his muzzle as long as he remembered his place, which was currently behind my right horn, applying his claws in a most satisfying manner.

"It seems my lord is part catfolk, hmm?"

"Silence, you impudent kitten," I rumbled appreciatively, modifying the noise I was making so it did not sound quite so much like a purr. One after another, my new subjects — those who could at least — had been coming to visit, to take my measure. Slowly, group by group, there was a sea change happening amongst the prisoners.

Vengis' claws stopped their motion, so I turned to look at him. I sighed. "Apologies, Vengis. I should be more careful with my words. You may speak freely."

"My Lord," he said, softly. When his ministrations didn't start up again, I rumbled in semi frustration.

"You have something to ask?"

"Did you make me love you, Master?" I caught the strange lilt to his voice even as I caught his choice of words. I blinked. Not quite the question I'd been expecting. I looked at him for a moment, thoughtfully, before speaking.

"Come here, put your head against my side, right here and listen."

Vengis left the crook of my neck, wearing a confused expression on his muzzle. He spoke draconic, so I knew he understood my words, but it was clear he didn't understand what I wanted. He very gingerly moved around between my claws and put his head against my side. "I… can hear your heartbeat, my Lord."

"Where are you, Vengis?"

"Lord?" Vengis was very confused now. I chuckled.

"You are simultaneously in the safest and most dangerous place in the world." I lifted one claw and gently put it on his back. "With very little effort at all, I could kill you. My laws don't stop me from killing any of my subjects, because they can't. Indeed, I can order you to kill yourself and you would. Tell me, Vengis, are you safe?"

"Lord?"

"Just… think about it." I rested my claw on his back, a gentle pressure, moving my massive mitt in slow circles. He started purring before he could catch himself. I chuckled again. "I think you think you're safe. I will tell you a secret, Vengis. I don't understand what is happening here. I don't understand all I can do. I am very much learning as I go, but I do know that I did not order you to love me. Not intentionally at least."

"Is that… was that the secret? Everybody knows that."

I cuffed him as lightly as I could, still he chuffed with a forceful exhale of breath.

"Impudent kitten. If you believe what you feel for me is false, then know that when this is over, I could release you from my service. Not right now though, because now should I have some creature uninvited so close, they would not survive. But I promise you this, Vengis. Should this concern stay with you, even if you are unable to ask directly for it, merely voice it, and it shall be done. The same goes for all my subjects."

"Would I be… sent away then, Lord?"

"You would have a choice, the same choice you had two weeks ago, to follow me or walk away. What would happen after cannot be speculated about, but know I would be loathe to kill you even then. Tell me one more thing though, Vengis."

"My Lord?"

"Is it painful? Does it burden you?"

"No," Vengis answered finally, not lifting his face, his voice muffled. "No, it isn't. It doesn't"

"Good. Then tell me how plans proceed, and any new developments."

That Vengis was so… tactile, had surprised me. I think it surprised him, too. The first thing he'd done, after working some sort of magical Art to skip through one doorway on the far side of the complex and out into my trailer that night, was to reach out a paw and pat me on the muzzle. I'd let him explore my body for a few moments, paws pulling at my lips and fangs until he seemed to come to a realization of what he was doing. Then he'd instantly become an amusing mish-mash of brash bragado and stiff formality.

I'd have liked to have called him a general of my troops, but that didn't suit his character. What he was great at, however, was intelligence. He could seemingly get along with everyone, and once he was part of my domain, that just increased.

"I don't know how they did it — well I know, but, you know — but those humans caught two young bulettes. They have recently been tamed by two of your kobolds, and as such are also under your command."

"Bulettes?" I asked. I could tell from context that these were creatures, but they weren't familiar to me.

"Ah, er, land… sharks?"

"Landsharks? You mean these bulettes can travel underground?"

"Indeed, my Lord, as easily as you the skies or I the forests."

"And the humans just… let them go?"

"I don't think they quite understand. The kobolds have tamed them, sent them out to hunt each night, and each morn the creatures return sated."

I nodded slowly. Two young bulettes? Probably souls slightly less fortunate than me, caught whilst they were still figuring out their new natures. Maybe without what was left of their minds to keep them afloat.

"So that means the tunneling is moving apace?"

"The dwarves and kobolds both estimate they are below the main complex now. Following the bulettes makes work move at a heady speed."

"Good. Fortify and prepare. Get Tucker's crew to dig the other way if they have nothing left to do. I want a warren out in the killing fields South of here. The enemy thinks they have us surrounded, I aim to disabuse them of that notion. And the young?"

"The females have started to lay, Lord."

I nodded again. "The young need training, see what can be taught in the way of Arts or shared in the way of weaponry. The eggs will be protected; bury them deep, hidden away behind as lethal traps as can be made, if they are not already."

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Digging In


I glared at the truck as I stomped around it, then lunged and struck. Clamping my jaws down, I snarled and growled, voice muffled, as I pulled at the huge tire. It burst around the inner rim and protested as I pulled at it and yanked it out of position, then with a single great mighty wrench I pulled it free. The acid in my spit had weakened the axle I'd been biting previously until it gave. I spat and coughed, I'd have to be more careful next time, that amount of pressure in the wrong place would be painful at the very least, and dying of a burst gut would be the ultimate in ignominious death. The truck groaned mightily as I felled the metal beast, and it tipped down for a moment before tipping back the other way with a crash. Then I savaged the other back tire and the whole back half of the thing dropped to the ground.

The soldiers briefly — very briefly — tried to stop whatever it was I was doing, but the moment they stepped into my domain I half spread my wings and rushed them, hissing and roaring until they all but jumped the fence to get back out again and I could return to what I was doing. With some amount of work that admittedly made my jaws ache, I pulled off the other two tires from the front of the truck bed and my lair proper started to take shape.

Yes, yes, this would do nicely.

As soon as I started digging, however, shots rang out, striking the ground behind me in puffs of dust.

I stopped, stock still, a low, threatening growl reverberating across the field. Silence reigned the complex as everybody paid attention. In one slow, fluid motion I spun and, using my tail like some sort of whip-scoop, hurled a boulder bigger than a man's head at the gun tower that had dared send lead in my general direction. It sailed well wide of the structure, but the message was quite clear. I fixed the gunman with a very direct, unblinking stare as my growl's volume increased several-fold. You are courting death, human. Would you like to try that again?

I bared my teeth and puffed myself up a bit larger for a long, long moment. If he didn't need a change of uniform, I would eat his hat. Preferably with his head still in it. He was behind electrified barbed wire, some thirty feet up, at the controls of what was probably a fifty caliber machine gun. He put his hands up and took several steps backwards.

That's fucking right, you little shit. As I took a step forward my claw bounced off something rubbery. Oh hey, free chew toy.

After a certain amount of time spent with a new favorite distraction, I went back to digging.

***

Jacob winced as the guard in the tower pulled the trigger and pissed off the beast. It had been as bad an idea as he thought it would be and the dragon did not like that. He made a mental note to keep that specific soldier as far away from the creature as he could. It enjoyed the morning sparring far too much to stop, but Jacob was sure it would take the next chance it was given to gut the lad, now. It was almost as bad an idea as when he'd had that faint, evil little hope that those two out and out bitey monsters they'd caught would kill off some of the prisoners. Instead, they were… pets? Things were rapidly spiraling…

His hands tapped his pockets nervously as the damned thing resumed digging, its new favorite toy forgotten for the moment, fingers looking for a thankfully absent pack of cigarettes he'd long since sworn he'd not touch again. The occasional cigar was something he allowed himself, but he had to admit, right now he needed a fucking smoke. The only good thing to be said here was that it wasn't trying to escape. He wasn't sure that wasn't worse, because he was pretty sure that meant it thought it could leave any time it wanted. Jacob wasn't sure he disagreed.

Charlie was not just dancing the Foxtrot, it was dancing the Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. The voices in the back of his head were getting louder again, and he was not entirely sure they were real this time… the only thing he had to go on was that he'd never had this problem before and what whispers made it through in even semi-coherent fashion seemed to tie in quite well with how far the world had already gone to hell in a handbasket. That explosive day and night when the twinned announcements had been made to the world, the first triumphant, the second rousing in opposition, had changed everything in more ways than one.

The Stokerville Provisional Army had been little more than an extended hunting group, backed by an LLC setup by one of the members, before shit had well and truly hit the fan. Sure, they were a militia, most of them went to church — often the same church at that. Jacob wasn't a religious man, but going to church was just what you did — and a good deal of the members had been brought up learning how close they were to the end of the world, but none of them had seen it happening quite like this. It hadn't just shaken most of their faiths, in some cases it had obliterated it. Their base — cliche or not, they called it The Base — was always geared up for an extended stay with tinned goods and long-life dry food, with its own supply of water and powered by hydro-generators, and had suddenly been turned into a combined fort, daycare, school and prison.

For some stupid reason, they'd gathered up a lot of the 'freaks' as the boys had called them in the beginning, probably hoping that whatever this was, it was local. That had turned out to be untrue, manifestly so once 'local' changed forever.

Their actions had helped calm Stokerville initially, but the changes had been too great. They'd not exactly abandoned their home town, but with the boys' families and dependents evacuated, they'd pulled back, fortified their position and set about raiding the remaining businesses for as much non-perishable foodstuffs and other supplies as possible, and had instead prepared for the worst.

And then they'd heard about the dragon. Their greatest accomplishment, or possibly greatest folly, was capturing it alive. Accidentally — oh boy was he sure it was a complete fluke, given how much trouble the creature was for the SPA — caught in a massive walk-in freezer of all places, somehow not dead of the cold, it had eaten its way through most of the contents and then slept off one mother of a food coma for several days whilst the world collapsed around it, probably eating more in its sleep by the state of things, and with the help of an animal vet who was right now spending a good deal of his time seeing to the dumb animals Jacob called his men instead, they'd got the damned thing here.

The world had changed, and was still changing according to the voices. It had… stretched, flattened; it was actually and factually flat now, if the way the sun behaved was anything to go by, in defiance of what he knew of physics. Stokerville had been a little under a half hour away, as long as no smokeys were bored that could be almost halved, from the otherwise-defunct pit works. Now, it was several hours, most of a day's journey. Stokerville itself was many times the size it should be, in some cases whole gated communities had vanished under forests springing up where a few trees had been, or lost deep in rambling bramble thickets that had been well-tended bushes. Even outside of that, the roads meandered oddly from building to building, sometimes isolating what had been the next neighborhood over. The patrols he sent back there were finding it harder and harder to make sense of the place.

The only saving grace was that whole compounds like The Base stayed more or less as-is for some reason. Figuring out why made Jacob uneasy, he didn't want to name the reason why that he knew to be true in his bones, it opened too many doors.

He wasn't sure, now, if they'd been lucky or not. With The Yard being the way it was — sectored out to handle dangerous materials and machinery — it had been no trouble at all to clear it all out and turn it into a prison for the 'freaks' that they'd initially picked up from the scraggly dead tree forest to the West or the mountains that had sprung up to the East, and then later picked up — rescued in some cases — from the ruins of Stokerville even.

Quite what they were supposed to do with all their prisoners — refugees? Jacob didn't like how that felt — now they had them was beyond him. He gave them the minimum of food and drink, kept the peace, and… his men trained for the war he knew was coming.

Only now, that damned dragon was digging itself a lair by covering the mangled remains of their stolen truck with rock and earth, which presumably meant it was staying, and continuing to feed the bastard was his responsibility. Alternatively, they could try to kill it, and then all that work would have gone to waste.

But hey, sunk cost fallacy and all that.

Idly he allowed the thought of whether or not he should just execute all the prisoners to wander across his mind. The idea disgusted him, but he knew deep down that if he had no choice, he'd hate himself, but he'd do it.

For now though, they were well behaved.

A cold chill went up his spine at that thought. They were well behaved, weren't they? Fuck. His hands began to shake, and it took an effort of will to get them to stop. His men had been inspecting the encampment regularly, and nothing was out of place, but… fuck. It couldn't be that easy, especially when everything said it was. He glared at the dragon as it inspected its handiwork. Goddamn, there was no way things could be this easy.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Unlucky for some...

another shorter one. might be a bit until another one comes as I'm out and about for a few days.

---

Lairs Within Lairs


Some time later, my lair was taking shape. I took in a couple of chew toys, left the others outside, then started arranging what skulls and hides I had left at the entrance. This was my domain and I needed everybody to know it. Not just because, well, dragon, but because now I would have something to actually hide.

It didn't take long after I had the trailer properly covered that the tapping below started. First it was quite quiet, but soon the tapping became knocking, then scraping. And then the lair shifted quite a bit, bringing showers of grit and rocks down through the holes in the roof as two blunt, dark muzzles tore at the metal bottom beneath the trailer until the tortured steel snapped and the wood splintered.

Two large shapes, each approaching my size, shouldered their way up from the tunnel beneath my lair and squeezed into the rapidly shrinking living space. The creatures were covered in armored plates, head to toe as it were, and colored a blue-brown at the front to a blue-green at the back. Their massive jaws hung open now in happy smiles as my two murder-puppies basked in a job well done.

They had reportedly cost some lives, but two of my kobolds had tamed them, one each, and now these bulettes were proving their worth a hundred-fold. Sent off to hunt periodically in the dark, they could travel under the ground much as a shark could swim through water. Indeed, 'landsharks' were another appropriate name for these beasts.

I didn't know whether they were transportees like the kobolds, dwarves and goblins and the like or whether they were like me, just… less fortunate on the whole 'keeping your mind' front. I was pretty sure they were both males, but had been reliably informed that if you found a pair of bulettes, they were usually mated and you were usually in for a very bad time. I wasn't going to disagree and didn't know how to check in any event.

We'd gotten lucky, again. The bulettes had been tamed, and as I owned their masters, they also deferred to me. With their digging ability, this compound was now mine, even if the humans hadn't the foggiest clue.

"Nalsi! Vezran! Well done," I greeted the kobold tamers as they followed the bulettes up. I had spoken to them briefly through the fence, but now met muzzle to muzzle for the first time. "Maybe you should send Smash and Grab back down below? Let them blow off some steam in the Great Cavern whilst you show me how things have progressed?"

"Your Will, Great One," Nalsi intoned, and she patted Smash on the shoulder, sending him back down through the hole he'd helped tear through the bottom of the trailer. Snorting happily, Grab followed, disappearing not only down the hole but somehow sinking into the rock like it was liquid, leaving nothing so much as a brief wake as if the ground were stirred up by the wind to mark their passing.

"We have circuited the foundations of the buildings, Great One. We know where they keep their young and their women, as well as the majority of their equipment. The workers have excavated their tunnels carefully. We can breach when you desire."

"Hrm, that is good news," I said, as I squeezed my way down into the tunnels beneath my lair. I chirped at a kobold as he slunk his way along on some sort of patrol. He froze as he saw me, and I recognized the look of adoration on his muzzle of a relative youngster. "Fetch a shaman, have them prepare whatever sounds, smells or images are necessary should any humans get interested in my newly improved lair whilst I am down here. They should stay far enough back, they're not usually eager to approach. If they don't, kill them."

"Great One," he said, ducking his head, then scurried off.

***

The tunnels were cramped, and there was no way I could turn around, but aside from a few brief interludes where I had to be dug free, I was able to easily make my way to the part of the underground warren the kobolds, dwarves and even the few goblins that had joined my side had taken to calling the Great Cavern.

With tools pilfered from the humans' stores — the ones stolen taken as unobtrusively as possible — the kobolds, dwarves and other subterranean-inclined races had swiftly dug in beneath their tents and shacks, with the entrances hidden by what scant furniture was available or, now that I had given them back their magic, spells to turn the eyes and befuddle the mind, or illusory weavings to hide the truth.

Deep below the Earth, the miners had found a cave system and had swiftly moved to exploit it. One such feature was a massive cave where as many of my subjects as possible spent as much free time as they could, mostly at night. The encampment above ground was mostly empty a good deal of the time, with a mixture of suggestion spells and illusions sent when necessary, along with honest to goodness shifts to maintain an actual presence should the former precautions not prove satisfactory.

Food and drink was bland, but plentiful. Some of the shamans and other magically inclined folk had the ability to create food and drink. None of it kept, but judiciously rationed usages of such spells bolstered the meager fair made available by the humans. My subjects weren't greedy, however, they gratefully took any non-magical extra and stored it, safely.

We were well prepared.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

A double post because I'm going to be doing all sorts of other things for a few days. Not that the posts are all that long in themselves, but I thought you all deserved a little more than what I put into part 14.

---

What Lies Beneath


Two weeks. It had taken two weeks and change to get used to being a dragon. Two weeks that I had counted, and however many days it had been beforehand and after, of running, fighting, killing, clawing, sparring… It was not long enough. I knew this rationally, but instinctually the fact that I was a dragon was everybody else's problem.

I won't brag and pretend I have an iron will, able to withstand the grim realities of madness where mortals fear to tread. I don't. My mood was fickle at best and contrary at worst, but one thing I was sure of: some sort of psychotic break with what passed for sanity would be the worst possible thing for a lot of people, most of all me. As such, being overly concerned about just why I wasn't freaking out and killing everything that moved was something I could quite happily shove in a box and lock in the deepest recesses of my mind as something to worry about much, much later, along with figuring out whatever passed for reproduction in my kind, what it would mean to have my lusting after massive scaly lizards, and how long I'd live.

Those brash humans, and other humanoids, and yet still other not-quite-humanoids, were oddly faceless as I watched them move through their daily lives. The only ones I knew, or easily recognized at least, were first of all either my own subjects or the standout specimens like the Sergeant who posed a modicum of threat and/or annoyance. I had no names for the majority of the creatures surrounding me, but then I didn't need them. I recognized them all by smell far easier than by sight these days. Visually they were… just there.

As I entered the Great Cavern, Vengis made his way over to congratulate me on a plan well executed, skipping over Smash and Grab as they zoomed past under his feet, followed by a mixed gaggle of laughing, cheering kobold hatchlings and a few of the younger goblins.

Scar chose that moment to emerge from whatever shadowy protection he slunk around in, to appear next to me. Instantly my nostrils flared.

"Scar, you continue to smell… different."

"My Lord?"

"Are you ill?"

"Lord?" Confusion radiated from the little creature. Vengis looked from me to the kobold and back again, then he leaned towards me.

"My Lord, are you… unaware of the, ah, nature of kobolds?"

"Nature?"

"It is the rebalancing, Lord," he said, delicately.

I regarded the pantherkin carefully, eyes narrowed, before studying Scar in the dim magelight of the Cavern. He'd lost some muscle mass, but had packed some fat around his lower midsection and tail. His hardened ridges had softened somewhat, in fact he was looking…

"You're a female?" I asked, incredulously. Now that I was once again properly looking at Scar with my nose rather than my eyes, it made a strange kind of sense.

"Yes, my Lord?" Scar blinked, shifting from hind claw to hind claw, uncertain if he — no, she — had done anything wrong. He, she, was still changing, obviously. From the change in smell, I judged it would be another two weeks or so before she was done shifting, and some time after that, I guessed, before she would be ready to mate and lay eggs.

"Oh! Well, this is… excellent!" Vengis at least regarded me with some surprise. "What, would you… rebalancing, you said? To… what, half and half?"

Vengis slowly nodded his head, "I was… not aware you did not know, but it makes sense now I think about it. The Elder, Tucker? Or the Matron should have mentioned it, but I suppose to them it is just something that happens. Kobolds don't really have…" the pantherkin waved his paw around, lost for words for a moment. "They don't see male and female like you and I. They are male or female as the tribe takes them, changing freely between one and the other as the tribe requires, and mate as they wish to lay eggs or fertilize them according to their role at the time. It is… one of the reasons they are often regarded… oddly," he finished, diplomatically.

"But it doesn't bother you?" I asked, cocking my head to one side. I could see it did, at least a little.

"I, ah, admit I do not understand it, but then I am not a kobold. And I have not previously had enough kobold friends for it to really matter to me."

"Fair enough, Vengis, fair enough. Well, this is excellent," I continued, "my subjects will be fruitful and multiply, such that they will not perish from this Earth. So I have commanded, young Scar, so it shall be! How many of them is it then, Vengis? Can you tell me?"

"I would say… some two thirds or more will be female all said and done?"

"So, fewer males, huh? Well, whichever of those two groups are the lucky fellows, congratulations." I fixed Scar with a gaze, "You will fight as before? Answer me honestly, Scar, I do not know your people half as well as I should."

"My Lord, I… will fight as before?" Scar was looking very worried now. "I did not… I should… I…"

"Calm yourself, calm, I am neither disappointed nor angry nor anything of the sort, Scar. Whether this is a thing you can decide for yourself," I noticed my faux pas as she shrank away; obviously this was just a thing that kobolds experienced, "or not, I am pleased for you and your kin. I am indeed well pleased, for you will bear me strong young, I am certain of it."

From being worried and hurt, she immediately sprung back into confused pride.

"Though this is called a rebalancing?" I prodded the abnormally reticent pantherkin. At my attention he straightened. "How come this is so… unbalanced?"

Vengis chuckled, his voice a throaty purr as his eyes gleamed in the semi-darkness. "I, ah, believe I know. It is you, Lord."

"Oh?" I turned my golden eyed gaze his way, and for once he didn't falter.

"Indeed. The kobolds react to their tribal makeup, my Lord. You have upset that count, intentionally or not, and they seek to rebalance the only way they know how. Namely by making more kobolds."

I couldn't help but break into a hearty belly laugh that I struggled to keep quiet. With a flick of his wrists, I felt Vengis place a spell upon us where we stood, no doubt to dampen any sound. Just in time for my attempts at containment to fail.

---

Constructive Behavior


Cas — short for Cassandra — Bronzehammer scowled as she made her slow way through the tunnels beneath the human compound she and her kin were nominally trapped in. That damned Vengis, the bard hadn't mentioned that the kobolds were the major stakeholders in this cursed alliance. She shouldn't have been surprised though, really, so it was her own fault, it was with a dragon of all creatures.

As daughter of the chief in exile, she was in charge of what remained of the knot, and as poor a choice as it had been to hitch their collective wagon to the back of that black dragon, she had to admit it had been worth it. So far, at least. Even if her quarters smelled faintly of fetid mud and wet dog.

That was improving, though, even if slowly. Those odd laws made it both harder to complain about kobold stink in favor of just politely refusing to talk about it, and also meant that the kobolds were… bathing. As much as they could, at least, given the conditions.

With the resurgence of the People's collective Arts, they suddenly had access to magically created food and water, both of which could be heated, and… with the mixing of Peoples, came the mixing of cultures. And the sudden increase in females around meant an immediate upsurge of talking about Boys. Cas didn't get it, because she was a dwarf. Most of the kobolds didn't get it either, because they were kobolds. But enough of them were… new at being female, so had asked, innocently enough, about what it was like for other females of other species, and during this, the subject of bathing had come up. Cas was faintly distinctly disappointed in that fact for some reason, but after enough days of roughing it, even she enjoyed being clean, so she couldn't really complain there, either.

As she moved into the main cavern of the kobolds' new warren, she jumped backwards. One of those damned bulettes went zooming past, inches below the surface, swiftly followed by the other, swiftly followed by a gaggle of kobolds and — she didn't spit — goblin youngsters.

However the two kobold trainers had managed it, the damned creatures were now acting like oversized, armored puppies and their favorite game was tag. There was a distant crunch as one of the bulettes mis-timed a leap and slammed into one of the support pillars. That would be 'Smash'. Cas sighed as she watched the second one attack the same pillar, trying to worry the rock to death and being somewhat successful. Ah, yes, 'Grab'. Aptly named, those two terrors were.

Across the way, she spied her new lord and master, the dragon. The sight filled her with a mixed bag of feelings. She knew that for all her life, she would have been scared shitless of being in the same general area as such a beast. She also knew that, for all her life, she would have boiled and bubbled with rage at being trodden underfoot by such an evil beast too. But this one… his laws drew her in. His laws that protected, at least nominally, all of her kith and kin from the dragon itself.

As such, he was an enigma. Seemingly unconcerned with such base behavior as terrorizing his subjects and laying waste to the swamps he would inevitably claim, he was instead organizing not only a resistance but a conquest of the lands above, with not even a hint of changing his ways once this goal was achieved. He was a strange one, apparently a human of all things before this world had opened to the Ways, he was definitely a dragon now, albeit a young one. She would never have joined his service, she told herself, she would have died first. Not intentionally, but just because actions had consequences. Frowning, she made her mind up.

"My Lord," she called, hurrying her steps as she crossed the gap.

"Ah, Cas! Come, come, princess of my dwarven contingent! Are your people assembled?"

"Those… those that can?" She didn't blush at his words. She didn't. "I, er, would speak with you, Lord?"

"Cas? Speak freely, we are all friends here."

Rocking somewhat at being told she was friends with a dragon, she stammered her way through her final attempt at tact. "It is, er, a private matter that, um, affects… you, Lord."

"Oh?"

The bloody dragon waited for her, politely, to continue. She closed her eyes. "You are without a… hoard, Lord."

"I… see? Riches do not concern me, just the safety of—"

"No, I mean, you… need a hoard. You need metal, Lord, f-for your scales."

"Ahh, I see! Well then, Cas, you had better see what can be scrounged up until better alternatives can be found. I don't want to get ill, after all!"

Oh… shit. She blanked for a moment, brain first freezing at walking herself into being ordered to find a dragon a hoard, and then working overtime to dig herself out of that same hole.

"My Lord, are we… taking this place for our own?"

"Yes? That has always been my plan?"

"Then…" she paused. "I believe I know what could be used. It is… inefficient, and may make things more difficult for us in the long run, though… hmm, yes, that could work…"

The dragon rolled his eyes in a clear sign of mirth as she dithered on the solution.

"Speak!" the dragon laughed. Laughed!

"Take the ammunition that the humans have stockpiled. It is soft, made of tin, brass, copper and lead. It is safe enough, at least unless set on fire. The only downside is that, once you have taken it for your use, returning it to its original storage condition will be time-consuming, not to mention if you, ah…" Cas gestured, suddenly struck by the idea that she was…

"Are you calling me fat?"

Torags teeth… she almost wet her britches. The dragon laughed, again.

"I understand, Cas. Your idea has merit. We shall experiment soon, once this place is mine. For now… assemble the troops, I have something to say."

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Man, I hate being ill. I'm sick as a dog. At least I have the rest of the week off, but this really put the kibosh on writing well.

I hope you're all enjoying you black fridays/weeks. This is essentially a triple post, but it's a big one I didn't want to break up. This is essentially end of 'arc 1' if there is such a thing with this story.

---

Sunset


"All's clear, Sir," reported Simmons. "Camp's quiet. There's been some sort of sickness with the kobolds keeping a few of them out of circulation for a while, they've been behaving odder than normal, but nothing serious. Dwarves are asking for tools again, goblins have been plotting something but as far as we can tell that's normal."

"Damn it all." Sarge sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Request for tools…" he was silent for a moment. "Ask them, if you can, what they want to do with them. Truth is we could do with some repairs on a number of our larger vehicles and systems around the base, but I don't want them making weapons! We'll barter for better supplies, give them some special privileges, if they'll help out there. They'll have to be watched, maybe we can learn something."

"Sir?"

"Look, we can't just keep them locked up for no good reason, and I won't keep them here if they're not useful. Should we kill them all, right now?"

"I, er," Simmons ran his hand through his thinning hair, nervously. He shook his head.

"Exactly. Time's coming, we may need to decide what to do with them, and unless I'm getting paid to be a prison warden, I don't want that sort of responsibility on my shoulders. Kobolds? They're too used to being trodden on, far as I can see. That's either really good, or really bad. Keep an eye on them. The goblins? If they're anything like the stories, keep both eyes on them and one hand on your wallet and have your friends watch your back. I bet they're fucking plotting. Good thing there is, we can be sure they're trouble. I'd give more of a damn about expecting the worst if I didn't have almost a hundred men, women and children to worry about here at the end of the fucking world."

"Sir," replied Simmons, more to fill the gap in the conversation than to actually say anything.

"I think we've bottomed out, Simmons. If we're smart, the only way is up. It'll be hard, but—"

"I, er, don't see how things could get any worse, Sir!" joked Simmons, though his hopefully cheeky grin faded as Jacob looked up at him with hollow eyes, his head snapping up like he'd been struck on the chin.

"Oh you did not just fucking say that, take it back! For the love of God, take it—"
Gunshots. Explosions. Shouts. Sirens.

"Fuck."

***

Nails gripped the steering wheel and flashed a hungry grin at his reflection in the darkened windscreen. He'd fought hard — tooth and (haha) nail — for the nickname, and now it was bearing fruit. Maccy, Guff, now there was an unfortunate name, Niner, Trin and the rest of the boys were under his command as they rode out to strike at the militia base.

Attacking a militia base? Now that was fucking ballsy, but the Sicario and his army were well armed, powerful, and in need of a new headquarters. The tired, fat old men sitting pretty in their little clubhouse would roll over and die, and the Kings would move in. And Nails would be right there, helping to deliver the booty up on a silver platter.

Life was good.

Nothing could go wrong.

***

"Shit! Hit the lights! I want more people up those towers! Sirens! Marko, get the women and children down to the bunkers, Walsh, get anybody fagging about in the infirmary that doesn't need to be there up to the windows! Get—" There was a sudden flare of light, a woosh and the heavy thump of an explosion. "Holy fucking shit, they have RPG's!"

And then, in the dark of the night, lit by muzzle flashes and serenaded by shouts and screams and the roar of engines, Death came to The Base.

***

There was a… flattened mound at one end of the Great Cavern. I ambled up onto it, then turned to look at my people. Kobolds, dwarves, goblins, beastkin of various sorts, a pair of halflings, some humans of various half or quarter-stock, and others I didn't yet know the name of. All waiting for me to speak. I turned to Vengis, and he bowed before casting a spell on me.

"My people!" I shouted, in draconic, "I welcome you!"

Through Vengis' spell, everyone understood. There was a ragged cheer.

"Tonight we rise. This place will, come dawn, be ours, and you will be free."

I looked around at the faces of my subjects, and saw their true feelings on that word. I chuckled throatily. "I know, it doesn't mean much. I am still your master, you are still trapped here. The first is not something I will change, but mayhaps if we work together, we can find a way to reverse whatever has happened to my world and you all can be sent home. Regardless, my friends, I will repeat what I have said to those of you who have asked: once this night is through, should we be victorious — and we will! — then those who wish to leave, may leave. Once you leave my protection, I cannot make any further promises as to your future or safety, but for those who stay, understand this. We will fight this night for our freedom, we will take control of this facility, and we will forge a nation upon this world the likes of which has never been seen before. So what say you? Are you with me?"

A ragged cheer once more rose up, and I slammed one claw into the mound.

"Again! Are you with me?"

This time the cheer rose higher.

"Then we shall strike! Now!"

As I turned to step down from the podium, a sudden noise from one of the main tunnels made me turn.

"Great One! Great One!"

"Nod? What is it?" I asked, stalking through a suddenly cleared corridor across the cavern, my people lining each side.

"It's… it's the humans! Above! They are fighting!"

My claws dug furroughs in the rock as I snarled in anger. It seems plans had changed once again. Instead of stealth and preparation, we would have chaos. So be it.

***

Sarge reseated the magazine, cleared the jam, set the gun against his shoulder, turned, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The gun kicked as bullets burst from the muzzle, but he kept the barrel low and the shots single, no spray and pray unless he really needed it. At least one of his targets fell. Motherfuckers had modified flatbeds with gun emplacements and were using them to great effect. They had molotovs, trucks, bikes, RPG's and guns. Lots of guns. He had a sinking feeling that he and his men were well and truly outnumbered. They were, in a word, fucked. He had no idea how many men he'd lost, hopefully it wasn't in double digits but there was no way to tell in the middle of this bedlam. All of them were good men, and even if they'd been training for this, none of them thought this would happen, but they'd stepped up. He would make them proud.

He was shouting hoarse wordless encouragement to his friends and compatriots when something incredible happened. A rumbling, roaring snarl made itself known, emanating from that damned lair. The sound traveled right up the legs and loosened the asshole without having to go anywhere near to the ears. And then the lair exploded.

Jacob made a snap decision. "Open the fucking gates!" he shouted.

He needn't have bothered, even if he'd been heard. The black dragon surged out of the lair, wings spread, and barrelled straight through the gateway like it was made of straw, a shower of sparks that sent more than one enemy vehicle screaming for cover accompanying it. And out from behind it came wave after wave of the prisoners, all of them screaming war cries.

"Holy fucking shit," whispered Jacob. He turned back to the chaos out in the killing fields, "Holy fucking shit! They're with us!" he screamed to his men.

There was a sudden flash of actinic light, as if somebody had pissed on the wrong end of a junction box, and a bandit on a motorcycle was just vaporized. The lightning didn't stop there though, it jumped from target to target, killing or at least badly injuring a number of other attackers but somehow ignoring his own men. Luck? Or something else?

Then the fireballs started, great booming balls of flame that blasted whole flatbeds into the air. Missiles like demented fireworks that left burning holes in the unwary, rays of light that had those they played across screaming and covering their eyes, or just going slack until their vehicles crashed.

And then… and then there was the dragon. And boy was it pissed off.

***

Nails was hollering with delight as he aimed his truck at as many of the fuckers as he could. Niner was riding shotgun with, appropriately enough, a shotgun, and the pair of them were just on a fucking tear. All of a sudden, he spotted some sort of odd car or bike or something ahead in the darkness. The lights from the towers were tough to see through now and again, so he squinted at the oddly positioned headlights. It was almost as if they were pointed a bit sideways… oh, wait, those were eyes…

Those were eyes!? Those we—

***

Well and truly incensed, I saw a truck heading towards me making an obvious challenge to my supremacy, after killing more than enough potential and actual subjects. I threw myself at the vehicle, ramming my head through the windscreen and tearing the driver in half as I exploded out through the top of the cab. As what was left of the cab tipped onto a biker, I snicker-snacked my way through my catch and spread my wings as I leaped.

I flapped my wings, and to my surprise kept going. I can fly, I thought to myself idly, as I banked in the wind. I can fly, and I have a ranged attack!

I swooped down at a group of attackers, took a breath, squeezed, and exhaled a stream of acid over them. Their screams were music to my ears. This was a trick I repeated several times before my reserves seemingly ran dry.

"Warriors!" I shouted, banking on the wing over the battlefield, "Ranged attackers to the back, surround them and scorch those foolish enough to get close to our forces! Support, keep them safe! Close combat! Harry the edges! Leave the rest of them to me!"

I saw two distinct swirls of dirt as my two favorite boys came out to play.

"Who's Daddy's favorite little murder-puppies?" I called, as the two bulettes launched themselves out of the ground at various would-be bandits. There were screams like 'Arrgh! Not the teeth!' and 'Jesus fucking Christ!' and 'Noo!' before loud chomping noises and lots of crunching. Messy little pups, they were.

"Smash?" I called, pointing to a large truck with some sort of larger caliber gun on the back. "Smash!"

I turned around and saw another prime target, some of the bandits were trying to give orders and rally their men. "Grab? Do your thing!" My two murder puppies leaped back under the dirt, and sped off to make life miserable and brief for my enemies. I was so proud.

As bullets zinged past my head, and in cases bounced off my scales, I threw myself down from the air before I could be shot down. Although my presence was mighty and made my enemies weak at the knees, I was realistic enough to know that I made a big target and even if I was bullet proof, my wings weren't. I could already feel a few tight spots where they'd been perforated, so the less time I gave them being shot at the better.

I tore through several fabric-covered trucks to a great melody of screams, turning the occupants into shredded pork, then turned, wings half-spread, as I set upon any dumb idiot unfortunate enough to turn their weapons on me, which was surprisingly many.

To say my forces and I turned the tide of battle was an understatement. It wasn't even that our attacks were that much more powerful, but when you're used to fighting with guns against humans, then fighting lightning and fire from creatures definitely not human is beyond the pail.

"Surround them all!" I called to my troops, and was satisfied to see my warriors, mostly the kobolds simply by being the most numerous single group but in no ways the only ones, make a loose circle around the survivors, from both camps, as the fighting fell off. I tail-whipped a few stragglers and found my way to Vengis, pleased he seemed unharmed. "Do you have one more oratory spell in you?"

"Lord, I… I think so, but…"

"Then do it. Stand by me, I will shelter you. It is time I ended it."

There was the sudden tickle of magic sliding through me, and I took a deep breath.

"CEASE FIRE!" I shouted. "SURRENDER OR BE KILLED!"

To their credit, most people stopped fighting. I wasn't sure if it was my words or just because, well, dragon. One last gunshot rang out, a few people leaped sideways, and I hurled myself over the crowd to tear the gunman's head off before he could do it again. His body made a loud noise in the sudden silence as it dropped to the muddy ground.

"I SAID SURRENDER OR BE KILLED!"

I was in the middle of the crowd now. Normal logic would dictate that being right in the middle of a group of armed men meant certain death. Normal logic would be right, just not for me, in this case.

"Listen to my words well," I said, now that there was relative silence, "for I am burdened with glorious purpose. The sun has set upon the old world, and a new world, my new world, has replaced it."

I turned, stalking around in a tight circle, eyeing everyone. Nobody moved. I nodded.

"I am…" for a moment, I sought for something meaningful. Then, like a bolt from the blue, I had it. "I am the black dragon that brings this sunset! And this place, and all of you, are now mine." The words came easily to me, as if from somewhere else. I squirreled that thought away deep, snarling at it in the recesses of my mind. "I will give you a choice, a very simple choice. Pledge yourselves to me, or die. Put down your weapons, right now, and walk with your hands above your heads over there."

I pointed with a claw to one side, and the circle of kobolds made a small hole.

"Do this and I promise you, you will not be harmed. I will give you an oath to me to pledge, and then we will all be friends. The alternative is death."

For a brief moment, nobody moved, then the exodus began. First one, then three, then five more, then several tens dropped their guns and walked, hands up, into a new circle. Eventually very few were left, still holding their guns.

"The fuck is wrong with you all?" asked the inevitable hard guy. "You're just going to roll over? I'd rather fucking—"

I was wrong. I did have one more in me. I squeezed and spat, exhaling.

I didn't even dodge the bullets as his gun shot skywards impotently, although I did fervently hope that any resulting injuries to either my wings or people could be healed. I walked over to the heaving mess that was what was left of whoever the idiot had been, and I very decidedly put my claw down on him, and pushed. There was a gurgling crack, and he was silenced.

"Now I'll say this one more time. You are free to reject my offer, but seeing as you have insulted me twice now, the first time by coming uninvited to my land bearing arms, and the second by… that," I shook the mess from my claw in disgust, "there is no possible future for you other than in my service."

I motioned my troops to surround the two groups, fully separating them. The first group, the majority, looked at each other nervously, but I spoke to them to calm them. "Peace, I will deal with you soon. I have promised your safety, and I keep my word. Ask any of my subjects."

I then turned back to the rest of the dissenters, and my gaze hardened. "The rest of you who are yet to decide, you have lost the privileges I will grant to those who chose wisely, but I will still give you my protection. Kneel, or die."

To a single man, they knelt, sharing fearful gazes.

"Repeat after me: I swear my life to the black dragon of sunset."

I waited as they answered, and I felt their words take root. Nobody else had to be made an example of. It was almost a pity. Still, I couldn't forgive their reticence.

"You will not harm by action or inaction any of my subjects, and you will follow any order given by either them or me, save they conflict with the first law. These are simple commandments, are they not?" I looked at each one of them as their expressions went through a mixture of confusion and anger. "They are, because of this moment, you are not people. You are livestock."

I glared at them, showing teeth.

"You are beasts. You have no names unless given one. One day, one day, you may have proven yourselves worthy enough to once more be men, but until then you will eat, sleep and live in the barn with the rest of the animals. You will do chores as directed and you will be rewarded for good behavior and punished for bad as with any beast of burden. I have spoken, and so shall it be."

There wasn't any murmuring amongst the unfortunates, although there was amongst the rest of my prospective new subjects. I turned to them, and lumbered over.

"I will give you three laws, and you will say 'I do' to them, or you will die, clear? You will follow them to the letter and the spirit in which they are uttered."

There was a general murmur of assent.

"You promise never to intentionally harm, through action or action, any of my subjects. You promise to follow my orders save they conflict with the first law, and you promise to keep yourself as hale and hearty as you are able, unless it conflicts with the first two laws."

The chorus of 'I do's' was hesitant, but in moments the last of the opposing forces were under my control. I glanced back towards the administration buildings. At least, that was, for the women and children and a few key stragglers.

"Sarge, I believe you are called?" I said, feeling the last dregs of Vengis' magic fading as I approached the man I'd been sparring with for the last few weeks. I held onto it as hard as I could. This might prove to be a long night after all.

"Uh, Jacob, Sir, th-though you can call me Sarge. I-if you want." I could tell he didn't quite know what to do with himself now he'd lost so utterly.

"I'll need you and your men to tell the women and children, and any of your remaining men inside, that things have changed. I would rather this night end far more peacefully than it began. If they resist, the barn awaits. If they join willingly, it will be much easier for everybody. If they refuse, you may kill them. I will kill them if they take up arms against me or my people."

"I'll see what I can do." He went white, understanding just how much things had changed for him with two simple words.

Vengis' magic faded, and I rumbled something in Draconic that I knew he no longer understood. Swearing in of the rest would have to wait until morning.

"Get the beasts to their paddock," I shouted to my kobolds, who began rounding up the first group and ushering them towards the cow shed. I'd make sure they lived relatively good lives, but I'd be damned if the shits that couldn't take me at my word would get anything else unless they begged. "Send the rest inside. Kobolds, patrol the perimeter. Dwarves, go check out the equipment, any of you who speak Human get them to clear away the fucking mess. See to your fellows who have died, there will be a… a service tomorrow. The bodies of the unwanted enemy are yours to do with what you will. I'm going to bed."

I growled as I looked at two of the faceless dead. I knew them. I knew their smell. I had wanted to kill them. Brian and Pete. How odd now, that I almost missed them. Idly I wondered whether the 'vet' had survived, but most of all I mourned for how many of my people I had lost to do little more than swell the ranks with useless dross. I would make them useful, I swore, and we would prevail.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Now we're catching up to where I am, so future updates may get smaller, or a bit more spread out, but I'm having fun so let's start the new arc a bit early.

---

Arc 2 - 1. Dawn


Sarge opened his eyes as the waking world once more impinged upon him. Immediately his brain replayed the last terrifying night. The fucking thing had spoken. God fucking shit on a bicycle. He and everyone else had been played for chumps, they'd been attacked by a bloody slew of would-be bandits and had been rescued — and subsequently enslaved — by the dragon they thought they'd had cooped up in the exercise yard, but that instead had been having its — no his — creatures digging some sort of labyrinth right under their feet.

How hadn't he known? In his defense, actual honest-to-god magic wasn't something he knew how to deal with. He was learning now that the kobolds, and a good percentage of the rest of the creatures they'd had in the prison camp, could befuddle the mind and trick the senses as easily as normal people could breathe. And the less said about what dragons could do the better.

He slapped his face with a hand and groaned, then forced himself out of bed, something that got harder with every day.

"Michaels? Simmons? Which of you pukes is up and about?" he called, pulling on some pants and throwing yesterday's shirt on his back.

"Sarge?" came a voice. Simmons knocked on the door, but opened it without waiting. Simmons was mostly in shape, better at paperwork than legwork, his thinning light brown hair slicked back. "You, er, wanted to be the one to break the news to the families?"

Sarge took the proffered already half-empty cup of hot, black goodness that Simmons had extended once he'd spotted Sarge eyeing it, and downed it in one, wincing at the scalding it gave him before speaking. "No, I really don't. But I don't see anybody else that with any conscience I can foist it off onto."

Jacob did his shirt up, then waved his hand at the door. "Get me some more coffee, then lead the way. I guess you had better go get the dragon whilst I get the women and children. Not sure which of us has the easy part."

***

The sun had risen — was it still called that? — some time ago and now illuminated the complex. I stood, flanked by the kobolds Tucker and Matron, the panther-kin Vengis, the dwarf Cas, the goblin Rarix and also the human Simmons, who looked even more uncomfortable being there than Rarix, which wasn't that surprising given that both of them had been in my employ for about the same amount of time. Scar was off somewhere below in the parts of the warren which had been claimed by my kobolds as their own.

To my left were the human troops, to my right were the mixed irregulars of those of my kobolds who were above ground and a good number of the rest. True to my word, the cattle were in the cattle-pen. They'd been ordered to stay put, and stay put they would. I'd let them watch the ceremony, then they'd be put to work. That, or be picked out by any of the children that wanted a pet… that was a thing children often wanted, right? I wanted the kids happy, after all.

I tried my best to look less intimidating, but with the sun on my scales and the sheer feeling of success that coursed through my body given yesterday's successes — despite the losses, those stung — I was feeling very… boisterous. And that was bringing out my teeth. Teeth, I had noticed, put people off. I tried very hard to keep them out of sight, at least until after.

Slowly, very slowly, with plenty of hushed whispers and even more hushed crying, the women and children of my erstwhile captors filed out of the building they'd been hiding in, accompanied by the remainder of the men.

"Is that the last of them?" I asked Vengis, who turned to Simmons and, in English, asked the same thing.

"Y-yes, sir, that's… that's everyone I know of at least."

"Kill anyone over the age of majority that you don't recognize. No questions asked. Bring anyone else to me directly. Pass my order on to everyone." Simmons stiffened at the translated order, but nodded. "But now, Vengis, I need your skills once more."

***

Lucy said the words she'd been told to by Mommy, because the big scary monster said he would eat her if she didn't, and had said that she had to say them if she didn't want that. That didn't seem very nice, but then he was a big scary monster, and that's kind of what big scary monsters did. But then she thought about it. The monster had said he would look after her if she said the magic words. That was kind of cool. He also said they would all be friends afterwards. She hoped Daddy would be back soon, Mommy said he had to go somewhere. Lucy wondered if the dragon had told Daddy to go do something for him?

The dragon was turning to walk away, so she ran up to it and grabbed its tail, tugging to get its attention. Pain wracked her hand and she squealed as blood bloomed from her palm where the spines had slashed it open. In seconds, the lizardy woman was at her side murmuring words over her injury and… the pain stopped!

Through the hiccups, she wiped the tears away and looked up into the strangely concerned face of the dragon.

"I, I, I th-thought you wo-wouldn't hu-hurt m-me," she stammered out, still trying to recover her breath. The dragon's hot, stinky breath wafted over her as it said something, and the cat man knelt beside her.

"He says he didn't mean to, cub. You should never touch something like a dragon if it's not expecting it. They are dangerous."

The dragon rumbled again.

"He asks if you want to touch him again?"

Lucy just nodded. "Yes please," she whispered, and then the big scary monster put its head down towards her. So cool!

Mommy was calling for her, so after running her hands over the dragon's face and especially but really carefully his great big huge teeth for a while, she smiled, kissed it on the nose and then wiped her hands on her dress. "Okay thank you I love you bye bye!" she said, and skipped back to Mommy, who wrapped her in the biggest hug ever and shouted and cried things at her that she didn't really understand.

The monster rumbled away behind her, speaking something that she didn't understand.

"Little cub," called the cat man, as he gently put his hand on Mommy's shoulder to stop her, before kneeling down to talk to Lucy. He'd walked over because the dragon wanted something. Lucy looked across at him, head tilted. "Would you like to learn how to speak Draconic?"

Lucy thought for a moment. "Do you mean I could talk in monster?"

The cat man laughed. "Yes, yes you could."

Lucy thought again, then nodded. "Okay! Is that okay, Mommy?"

"Please," Mommy sounded very, very upset. "Please, don't hurt her. Not after my husband."

The cat man looked kind of upset about that too. "I couldn't if I wanted to, my lady, and…" The cat man looked down at Lucy, his mouth open, then he shut it again. His whiskers twitched, then he looked back up at Mommy. "As I have so recently learned, my lady, the safest place in the world right now, is under his wings."

The dragon rumbled something again, having padded closer.

"Would you like a pet?" Vengis translated.

Mommy looked very confused for a moment, "Uh, no? I—"

"I was talking to your cub."

"Yes!" said Lucy immediately.

"Ah, good, you may choose one if you promise to look after it. A pet is a good thing to have for a growing child." The cat man showed teeth despite Mommy protesting.

"One of the cows?" Lucy asked, eyes round.

"If you want one of those rather than the other beasts?" The dragon rumbled at the cat man, who nodded. "Then you can have one. You'd need a bell or something for it to keep it safe, and they're a lot harder to teach to do tricks."

Mommy said something Really Naughty. Lucy covered her ears, before the cat man gently, laughing his weird chuffing laugh, pulled her hands down again.

"Do you want one of the others?"

"You mean I can have one of the Bad Men? Why would I want a Bad Man?" Lucy asked.

The cat man squatted down instead of leaning, still laughing. "They were bad men, now they're pets. They'll do anything you tell them to, as long as you are a Good Girl."

"I'm a good girl!" Lucy said, pouting.

"Well then, I'm going to tell you something that Mommy doesn't want me to tell you, and that is that if the dragon says you can do something, Mommy can't actually tell you that you can't because he is… important. But the thing is, Mommies do often know best, so even if the dragon says you can do something, you should think very carefully about whether you should. Unless he says you have to, then you really should."

"Am I a growed up?" Lucy asked. "Because that sounds a lot like being a growed up."

The cat man grinned and nodded. "Very mature of you."

"Hm."

"Think about it. See if there's one of the beasts that you'd like. But, to keep Mommy happy, I suggest you don't go play with them alone, because beasts can be dangerous, and those cows at least scare easily."

"Okay!"

"Do you still want to learn to speak monster?"

"Yes!"

"Then you shall. And you can bring any of your little friends who you think would like to speak monster too. Go on, off you run, go find some of your friends. I want to speak to Mommy for a moment."

Lucy stared at the cat man for a while, trying to decide if the cat man was a Bad cat man or not. "Come here," she said to him. The cat man leaned down, a quizzical expression on his face, and Lucy patted the cat man's head. He was a Good cat man, she decided, after looking in his eyes. "Okay! I love you, bye bye!" She skipped off to find her friends.

"What are you going to do with her?" hissed the girl's mother, anger flashing in her eyes. Vengis shook his head, sadly.

"Calm yourself, my lady. I am going to do exactly what I said I would. I will teach her to speak Draconic. For better or worse, it will be the one common tongue we will all share. Did you not listen to the Oath you both gave?"

The woman scowled. "I don't like it. I was forced to. I already lost my husband, I can't lose her!"

Vengis ducked his head. "You were forced, you say, but you gave it all the same. You were offered a choice. We all were. We made a choice, and now that you made the correct one, we really are all friends. My Lord intends to do his best to keep all of us safe, do you not, My Lord?"

The dragon was right next to her, Deirdre realized, it had snuck up almost like a cat. It rumbled something, then gently nudged her with its blunt muzzle. Her breaths came in rapid fits and spurts as she forced herself not to panic. She wanted to scream, but she wanted to live more. A sound like a long sigh came from the beast, and then he rumbled more of that oddly snarling speech.

"He says he does. And if you could speak Draconic, you would know that too. So, my lady, I have been ordered to tell you to fetch the children. Round them up, find who wants to go to school and who would rather spend their time playing, working or learning to fight. The first group will be shuttled into chores, learning to fight, or learning to speak depending on their suitability, as gently as we can. If you have any experience teaching, if you can pick up languages half as well as I can, then you would do well to assist the Matron and the other kobolds with the school."

"School?"

Vengis grinned as the dragon continued to rumble away in the background. "I am told it is usual for your cubs to go to school. I don't know what school is for your cubs, but for ours? They learn to hunt, to fight, and to weave Arts. I do not know if your cubs have access to the Arts, but the rest? Are always needed."

"I don't want my daughter to learn how to fight!" she shouted.

"Then I would reconsider letting her have a pet, because if she cannot look after herself, she'll need someone who will die for her safety if necessary. Now, please fetch the children, and enter the tunnels below through the lair entrance over there. Find the Great Cavern, that's where it will begin when we're all ready."

Deirdre scowled as she looked at the buried, wrecked trailer, but nodded. She couldn't disagree. She hated it, but she couldn't do anything otherwise. And worse, the infuriating creature was correct.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Adjustments


It took almost no time for Sarge to find me after the latest swearing in ceremony to beg for the return of the last few of his men who had been in the first group, especially now that I'd been giving some of them away to those who caught my eye. Namely the goblins, even if their politeness was definitely more towards to the simpering side. I could always do with more goblins, at least I guessed that was their aim, but I didn't want them to overwork my beasts, or to 'take advantage' of them — I would have to make sure consent matched up to no harm after all. I'd have to keep an eye on things, and I would have to tread very carefully if I ever ended up with females. I might be a bad guy, but I wasn't a bad guy, you know?

I glared at him for a moment, but he refused to budge. I could respect that. "I promised not to hurt any of you, and I suppose that means like this, too, but I cannot forgive them so easily for refusing my kindness." I considered for a short while, then shrugged. "Take as many as you wish. I release them to you, though they remain beasts in my eyes. I will reconsider their station in a month. You may keep them in a separate pen if you wish, but they must earn any improvements."

As he hurried off towards where my breakfast was mooing to pick out his new pets, I was struck with a thought: Was I evil?

I looked around at the complex, where the previous night had been bloodshed and violence, where I had acted in concert with my subjects to contain and protect the others sheltering here within… and had to concede that yes, I was evil.

I wasn't doing it for any higher power or altruistic reason. After all, I was defying the voices that at least proclaimed themselves gods — and had presumably had something to do with the impossible changing of our entire world — by setting up my new kingdom. I was doing it for me. For my peace of mind. No matter that I was doing my best to keep my people safe, from each other as much as from the rest of the world, I couldn't deny that the mental domination my Oaths enforced weren't all that far from slavery, and in many ways were worse.

If I were a good, just and kind king, I wouldn't need such oaths. My subjects would love and obey me through their own initiative, they would fight and die for me because they loved me. That the very idea of letting anybody exist in my presence that wasn't subservient to me was anathema showed me my true colors, that I required binding oaths of fealty told me that the strength of my character alone was not enough to otherwise ensure loyalty. Still, ruling through fear was just stupid. That I deliberately left the ability to order my subjects to their deaths, and would in future do the same, was the final nail in whatever coffin my humanity was buried in. I wouldn't ask any god to forgive me, because I didn't recognize the need for it. I did what I wanted because I could, and would continue to do so until I was forced to do otherwise.

"So be it, then," I said to myself. I wasn't who I used to be, in more ways than one. Maybe the voices that night had already won out, and the 'me' I used to be was dead. If so, I still couldn't find a reason to mourn him.

"Lord?" Vengis asked. I turned my head to fix him with my gaze.

"Would you rather live free, Vengis, however briefly, or under my authority?" I asked him, mostly rhetorically.

"My Lord? I, ah… would you kill me if you set me free?"

"I honestly cannot say, Vengis. I can say that if you were or could become a threat to me, and you were not my subject, that I would seek to end your life as swiftly as possible."

"Then I believe I am much happier to be alive, in your service, than… not."

I laughed, a deep, throaty laugh. "I will accept that reasoning, dear Vengis. Truly I am happier with you serving me than without your abilities and your company."

"You are in a strange mood today, Lord."

"Mm. Think nothing of it, I am just… considering a great many things. Did that little one choose her gift?"

"I think not, yet at least, Lord."

"Yes, well she may do so whenever she desires. She will learn to speak Draconic?"

"She professed that she wished to, along with a number of her friends. Matron has taken it upon herself to pool knowledge of our collective Arts, and will attempt to teach the human younglings. Tucker has undertaken a pooling of the collective knowledge of your kind, Lord, and seeks to give you… guidance, if you will permit it."

"Of course I do, that is why I chose him." I may be a budding Evil Overlord, but that didn't mean I needed to be a stupid one. "Are the preparations for the service for the dead progressing well?"

"They are, Lord," Vengis replied, bowing slightly.

"Good, then I suppose there is not much else to do but continue to improve the living conditions here for as many of my subjects as possible. And, of course, for myself."

Nobody yet had asked to leave my service. I sincerely hoped that none would, for their sake.

***

I peered around at the hangar that was the first proposed location for my new lair. It wasn't nearly defensible enough, was too large where I didn't want it and too small where I did, and it was drafty. Not that the cold bothered me. It was a real fixer-upper.

Hard pass. I'd give it to the dwarves or the goblins, or to any of the others who could give me a good reason for needing the space.

Me? I was going to go old school and get my lair built underground, in a highly defended, very secure, very deep cave. Good thing I had plenty of kobolds for digging one.

My final pick was a natural cave, ripe with stalactites and stalagmites, that had a nice deep pool of water off to one side and a raised, stone-backed pocket for my sleeping and living quarters, that afforded me plenty of privacy from those seeking audience. The kobolds had already started bringing down my trophies, including my chew toys. And boxes of my new bedding.

"It will suffice," I sniffed. At least until I found something better, and seeing as we were cementing our position here at this base, that would take a while. Still, the first part of operation 'Better Living Through Real Estate' was complete. I gingerly clambered my way onto the large pile of metals and other objects and wriggled until I had a proper divot going for my bulk. Cas had been right, this was much better.

I rested in it until the afternoon, when I would have a very solemn task.

***

The Great Cavern had been made even greater, but even so it was remarkably full of people. They stood silently, expectantly, watching as I stood up on the stage. Before me were a number of hastily yet expertly created jars, large pots made of what I wasn't sure was rock, clay or something else. Within them were the dead. I assumed they would be buried, but arrangements could be made for cremation. I would have to… sanctify some sort of burial plot, I expected. The kobolds had shamans. The humans, dwarves and others would have to share blessings, and whatever gods looked down upon them would have to understand.

I took a deep breath.

"Gathered here today, we bid farewell to our compatriots, new and old," I intoned. "Those who fought against us, and caused these deaths, have perished, as is the fate of those who stand against us. None but the beasts shall mark their passing. These here honored dead, these are our brothers and sisters, and we will mourn their passing. A moment of silence and reflection shall be shared."

I closed my eyes, projecting as much aplomb as I was able, and waited until it felt right, then I lifted my gaze.

"Those of you who wish to say a few words may speak freely, before us all, or with your friends and loved ones. Those that died in defense of this place I count amongst my people, and their sacrifice is gratefully, if sadly, accepted. Peace be upon them."

I walked down from the podium, and moved to the back of the hall, watching as The Matron stepped up to the stage. Strangely, she and her shamans also brought up a large pile of what looked like… kitchen and bathroom supplies? There was what I was sure was cooking oil, cosmetics, and even jerry cans of what I was sure was fuel oil. What was going on?

"Tribesfolk," she said in Draconic, a serious expression on her face, "We have communed with all those who have passed, and some have chosen to travel on to new adventures, to new worlds, to new realms. We will mourn them as they depart from our tribe forever, but we will not be regretful of their choice, only that their staying with us was as brief as it was. We will also make sturdy our hearts for those who return through the egg. With our powers granted by the Great One, we are unable to bring back the dead as they were, but for those willing to try, we will give them a new life amongst all our people. Listen, all ye who now join our tribe! Be not downhearted should the Gods choose another race than their old, for their old lives have ended, and their new lives begin!"

Wait, what?

I felt an odd draw, a feeling that left me a little light-headed, as Matron and a number of kobolds raised their voices in some sort of rhythmic chanting. Their haunting tones echoed up and down the length of the tunnels, shaking the foundations of the warren, for many long minutes before the group of five began to move, still chanting, as they touched some of the jars, one after another. Their sudden cessation of singing was almost painfully abrupt. The pile of… cosmetics? Jerry cans? All of the above, all seemed to burst into little motes of light, whereupon the sparkles spread like confetti on the wind, and were suddenly gone.

What was happening? The first rocking motion of one of the jars I dismissed outright, but slowly they all — all those touched — began to jostle to and fro, until the first fell, smashing open, and… something crawled out, coughing, but hale and hearty. That… that had been a human, I was certain of it! But now, he or she was… a kobold? Another that I was sure had been a human was now a huge lizard creature, similar to but obviously entirely distinct from a kobold. Another jar that I was sure had been one of the humans decanted what looked like a child at first glance, but what was actually some sort of… half-sized human? A good number — the vast majority, and all the previous kobolds — came back as kobolds, but others were the lizardfolk, beastkin, some were dwarves, at least one was human… but the two jars containing Possibly and Definitely were ones I stalked up to as they opened.

Possibly stood up, tall and thin, his ears pointed and his hair impossibly long and shiny. Definitely stood up, muscles thicker than a brick shithouse, his skin a dark green. An elf, presumably, and… an orc? Huh.

Vengis' ability for everyone to comprehend my speech didn't extend to the newly reborn, but it was still active on those who had been alive beforehand. I swiftly had all newcomers — whether they wore their original skin or new — before me to be sworn in, which I did happily so that those who could be reunited were able to be. Thankfully, none of the returnees spurned my generosity.

There would be a lot of interesting discussions happening tonight, I was sure, not to mention in the next few days. Somehow those returning to life had known what would happen, but I could see that a few kobolds were busy pulling at their anatomy in a way that suggested they had better be taken some place private unless they were willing to give the rest of us a show. It was equally awkward for the others that had to deal with new anatomy. I wish I could've said not my circus, not my clowns, but… well, with the return of Definitely and Possibly, it most certainly was.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Okay so hands up, who didn't see this coming?

---

Learning


Cas made her careful way through the tunnels to the Great Cavern, listening to the growing voice of the Deep, then swore loudly as she had to hop backwards to get away from two dark green-and-brown blurs barely visible under the surface, followed by a gaggle of kobolds, a few of the younger goblins, and another much larger gaggle of loud, screaming humans. They were playing tag around the perimeter of the cavern, with the young ones trying their best to catch Smash and Grab. This was her life now, it seemed.

It had been turned into a game of learning Draconic, by having the Tamer kobolds direct their pets, and the teacher kobolds order things like 'left' or 'right' or 'jump' or 'switch direction' and the like. It was absolute chaos.

Cas, however, was made of stern stuff. She found her own gaggle of youngsters and set about corralling them into three groups; one she gave makeshift bows to, another she gave makeshift swords to, and the final she had lined up in rows.

It took a while, but after a few false starts, she had them all learning to fight. It would take a lot longer to become acceptable, but that's what she was here for. It was good to see that 'hurt' and 'harm' were still two different things, making training possible.

And, if her compatriots had anything to say about it, even if they couldn't raid a vast amount of bullets from the town she knew was a day's travel away by the metal chariots this world's humans had access to, then shortly with the help of the swelled ranks of the kobolds, they would have enough metal and other materials to start making their own ammunition, and then they could all start learning about guns.

Her dwarven soul rang like a bell at that thought, and the dragon… had to be thanked for it.

***

Lucy sat down with Tommie and Alice, and her new 'bold friends Gren and Koog and Grork, and then another kobold, much larger than her three friends, walked up to her and tentatively sat down in front of her.

"Lucy?" asked the kobold, his voice high-pitched, like hers.

"Uh huh?" Lucy replied, before blinking. "Wait! You speak English? And you know my name? How come?"

"Y-yeah, I'm… I know who you are, yes. And I do, because… can you come with me? Just for a minute?"

Lucy thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Mommy and Daddy always say never to go anywhere with somebody you don't know."

"That's true, that's very true, I… they… I… Lucy, sit down."

"I am sitting?" Lucy replied, confused.

"Ah, good, yes, because… I don't know how to tell this to you. I was going to tell you with Mommy, but… it's Daddy."

"What is?"

"I is! I mean, I am! I'm… your Dad, Pumpkin."

Lucy's eyes grew rounder and rounder as the squeaky-voiced lizard friend spoke and became… it did sound like Daddy! "You are? Why are you a kobold? Is that where the dragon sent you? Does Mommy know? Oooh, did you become a kobold without telling Mommy? She's gonna be so mad you get to play with me all day instead of working in your office! Is Mommy gonna have to work now? You do get to play with me all day right?"

Frank shook his head and tried to placate the maelstrom that was his daughter until he just hugged her. "Look, things are going to be really weird for a while, Pumpkin. Mommy and Daddy might… have a hard time because—"

"Because Mommy isn't a kobold? Can Mommy become a kobold? Can I become a kobold?"

"No! No, you can't become a kobold. Neither can Mommy. But I'm not… going anywhere, ever again, alright? But I might have to live down here with the… other kobolds, alright?"

"Can I visit with you? Is it like Jeanie's parents where they don't live together no more?"

Frank winced, curling his tail around himself and running his claws over the end. "Y-yeah, because… your Mom isn't a kobold. And can't become one. I was, ah, special, in a way that… it's not something that happens a lot and please don't ask for it to happen, at least not the same way, alright? But I love you, I love your Mom, and she loves both of us too… but things are going to be a bit difficult. But sure, Pumpkin, I'll make sure you can visit down here any time you want!"

"That's alright then. Are you a kobold because you have a kobold girlfriend?"

Frank made a strangled noise in his throat.

***

Deirdre looked down at the little lizard creature that Lucy held with both arms and presented towards her.

"Hi Mommy Daddy came back this is Daddy he's a kobold now!"

"Umm… what?" Dierdre managed, after a long few seconds.

"Hi, Dede," Frank said in his new yappy happy voice, "how've you been keeping?"

Deirdre did the only thing she could think of. She screamed.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Back to Business


Frank knew he was dead the second he felt the gut-punch of the bullet hit. He didn't hurt, it just felt like he'd been kicked in the chest, but his body didn't quite work any more. There was a numbing cold that spread from just below his pectorals, down to his waist and up, up, up until it passed his shoulders and covered his face. He fell down like a puppet with its strings cut as red covered his chest.

"Oh," he managed, as an armored car ran over his legs and he couldn't feel them break.

He laid his head back, looking up into the stars, wishing things could have gone differently. Well, not all of it. He didn't regret his daughter, though he regretted spending so much time at work — to pay the bills and make sure his wife and daughter would be safe — and he regretted becoming relatively distant with his wife — same reason — but he didn't regret actually having them.

As darkness claimed him, he managed a last thought; that he'd gladly do it all again, but maybe a bit differently.

Would you, indeed? asked a silent voice, with more than a hint of amusement.

He was dead, he knew that. He swam, moving without motion, in a starless void. On one side of a curtain, so thin he could tell it was little more than gossamer whispers, lay a wavering image of a cave filled with those strange little lizard people that he guessed really were kobolds. On the other side of another curtain, this one as thick as night and twice as impenetrable lay… everything else. He shrank from it, it was too much for him to comprehend.

But here, in the shadowy between, something watched him. Teeth and claws, scales… some sort of bargain had been struck, it seemed, and he was now a chip on the table.

I would! He wanted to answer, but had no more breath to speak than whatever it was he communed with.

I have a price, and that price is… your soul. Do you still wish to bargain with it?

Hah, he thought back, if I could get to be with my family again, I would pay that a thousand times over, if I may keep them safe.

That is an acceptable bargain, little one, though I cannot guarantee your success, I can grant you the attempt. You will not have to wait much longer, payment has been made. Prepare yourself.

For what? He wanted to say. The answer came easily, as great wings wider than the sky spread.

For your rebirth.

***

Frank opened his eyes, he was… squashed into something? It was dark, and stuffy, and he wanted… out! He kicked and wriggled and head-butted his prison until he felt whatever he was in tip over and crack open… and he rolled out into a changed world.

There was something between his eyes, and everything was… wrong, it was all too big. He put his hands to his muzzle and saw claws grabbing his nose, only his nose was long and was the very thing that protruded out from his head, and was stuck in his vision, on top of a mouth stuffed with massive sharp teeth and… oh. Oh. That made sense.

"I'm a kobold!" he exclaimed, then clapped his hands over his muzzle. His voice was high and yappy, like a little puppy. Other kobolds came and yip-yapped at him in their strange tongue that he didn't understand, and he tried to make them understand that back. It took a while, but eventually he was swarmed with tens of little kobold buddies, and he realized he felt strangely happy because of it. He looked around for his wife and daughter, and found them… and for a moment, considered walking up to them, but then his courage failed him. No, not yet, he would have to wait.

After a few hours, he thought he'd happily wait a long, long time to get the courage to chat with his wife… but then he saw his daughter, sitting with a few of the kobolds in one of their lessons that had been arranged by whoever now ran this mad-house. The same lessons he now had to take because he didn't know how to kobold.

Well, this was awkward.

***

"Hi, Dede," Frank said in his new yappy happy voice, "how've you been keeping?" He winced as the scream shook his eardrums. "That good huh?"

"You-you-you… you died!"

Deirdre's last words hung in the air like… well, like last words are wont to do.

"Daddy died?" Lucy asked, in a small voice, before Frank found it very hard to breathe.

"Hrrk! I'm okay! I'm okay! Daddy's here! Please let me breathe!"

"Does that mean… if I die, that I could come back again and be with Mommy and Daddy?" Lucy asked in a small voice.

"No!" "Yes!" "I mean…" "we mean…"

Dede and Frank looked at each other, and Dierdre gripped her nose with her hand.

"Pumpkin, we don't want you dying, ever, and… God willing, that won't be for a long time, alright? But… y-yes, maybe, it seems like… you might be able to, and I wish I knew how or why this worked, but you might be able to come back. But we don't want to have to find out!"

Lucy's eyes sparkled, and she relaxed. "Good. Because I am sometimes afraid at night that I'll just go away and I don't want that. Now I know, the dragon has made it that I can come back, so I'm not afraid. Mommy, don't be angry with Daddy if he has a kobold girlfriend—"

"I don't!" squawked Frank.

"And Daddy, don't be angry with Mommy that she's not a kobold."

Frank and Dede shared another look.

"Darling," said Dierdre, "I'm just happy Daddy is back, and… just never forget we love you."

"I'll, ah, I kind of… I think we're cold blooded, Dede, so I kinda… either need an electric blanket or I need to live below, with the other kobolds."

"Daddy can sleep with me in my bed when he's visiting up here when he's not with his kobold girlfriend like Jeanie's daddy! That way he can stay warm!"

There was a loud smack as Frank's paws met his muzzle.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Un-Bearable


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Indeed."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just one other question then," said Bear.

"Hmm?"

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Died. And I have a nose now."

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

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

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

"Oh come on!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you think the guys know?"

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

"You little guys are cold-blooded?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Turn About


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

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

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

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

"Well? Is there trouble?"

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

"You wish to die, is that it?"

"N-no, sir, but—"

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

"But!" Wren exclaimed, his brow furrowed.

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

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

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

"Sir?"

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

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

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

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

"Are they gone?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Reflections


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

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

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

"Yes, Tucker?"

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

"Oh?"

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

"Cas?"

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

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

"I see myself, Tucker."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I slipped into the water.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuckers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[turbofluffysnek]

You know, I wish I was a bear so I could hibernate all winter? This cold weather sucks, so does the dark. Brrr.

---

Training Days


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y-yeah, he…"

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

"What do you mean, not—"

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

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

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

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

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

"B-but my m-mom—"

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

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

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Negotiations


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hss! Egg-stealing scoundrels!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Drink!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, yes, you know the price?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yessir," mumbled Simon.

"I said, do you hear?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Actions and Consequences


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

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

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

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

"It's not fair. It's not right. I—"

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

"Bullshit!" interrupted a voice.

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

"I said bullshit!" the man said.

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

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

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

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

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

"Who…?"

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

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

Ahh! The soldier! On the way here!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Meaning?"

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

"Which requires a… large, expensive diamond?"

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

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

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

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

"Jewelry?" he asked, confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I waited until everybody answered before continuing.

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

 

[turbofluffysnek]

A short one for now.

---

Speak of the Devil


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

"Begin."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Machinations


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

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

"Trouble?"

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

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

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

"A surprise, huh?"

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

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

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

"You got some balls on ya, Trin."

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

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

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

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

"Your mother."

"Fuck you."

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck shit up and watch it burn?"

"Yeah, that's about right."

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[turbofluffysnek]

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

---

Bear Necessities


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

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

"Help! Fucking help! They're gonna—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bear-ly. Hah!"

"Yeah yeah. Let's fukken go!"

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

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

"Hhrnn, shit, fucker got me."

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

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

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

"I'll… I'll be fine, alright?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And a saddle?"

"Don't push your luck."

"Call it a gunnery position."

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

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

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Scars


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

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

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

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

"I like this one," Pete said.

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

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

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

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

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

"Oi!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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