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

[turbofluffysnek]

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

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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.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

You know what? This one's short enough I should post it today. They'll normally be longer than this. I've got a vacation coming up which means I'll have to work on the backlog, but I'll try to keep posting where revelry with the family doesn't stop me.

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Fetch


Dog was… well he wouldn't call himself a happy bunny as it were, but he was filled with a kind of optimism. The collar around his neck was a constant reminder — as was his inability to even call himself anything other than 'Dog' — of how badly he'd fucked up, but he'd been given a chance to not only redeem himself, but hopefully correct a mistake.

He'd have his friend back if it killed him. Literally.

He had to say though: having one purpose in life really focused his edge. He shot, he stabbed, he kicked and punched, he snuck up on, and he bludgeoned his enemies as he forged his way through the mall. A cadre of kobolds came with him, occasionally blasting with water, lightning, poison gas, or even occasionally casting some sort of spell on him that made him… apparently really hard to see and therefore hit.

He was wondering how to get into the jewelers when some sort of bomb went off and the electricity went out. Shrugging, he then just smashed his way into the shop and started pocketing gold, jewels, necklaces, anything that looked like it might either be expensive enough or at least add up to being expensive enough, that would work, right?

He just couldn't shake the feeling of it being somehow… unclean, to be clearing out a jewelry shop when they were here to rescue kidnapped people and kill the last of the bastards that had attacked that night.

He looked in disgust down at the jute bag he was using to stash the valuables in. Another lesson, definitely, though he wasn't sure this one was planned.

Whether it was or wasn't, he would learn it well.

He grunted, unable to properly speak, until one of the kobolds approached. He handed off the bag of goodies, then mimed a number of physical activities that he hoped got his message across. A sporting goods store. When the kobolds chattered together and turned back to him, they ordered him to follow. He had no choice, but apparently his decision to try for something more had worked as he was lead to a folksy-looking shop with faux wooden slats and campfires made of red and orange felt outside it.

He headed inside the store and nodded happily, grabbing item after item and tossing them to his scaly friends. Knives, bigger knives, gloves, hats, pots and pans, and finally… crossbows, guns and ammunition. When the five of them left the store, they were moving a lot slower, but were wearing ridiculously wide grins to match their bulging backpacks.

One of the kobolds tugged his clothes. Dog looked down curiously, turning his head. The little guy — or gal, he couldn't really tell with kobolds — held up a fist. Snorting, Dog's fist met the kobold's, who immediately drew his own fist back and made a 'pow' noise in his throat.

Okay, he did kinda like these little guys. Now to make his journey worth it, and get out with the goods.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Shift Change


Bert drove the last of the trucks — mine — out of the garage and into the sunlight. Now the fighting was mostly over, I didn't need to skulk about in the shadows. I glared at the twenty or so humans kneeling on the ground with their hands crossed behind their heads as I stepped out of the truck, my steps sending the body of the vehicle tilting wildly left and right, noting how their eyes went wide as they finally understood what they were up against. This could have been so much easier if they'd just been reasonable.

Three more vehicles had pulled up a short while ago, out had jumped a good number of gang members and there had been another short, but decisive, pitched battle. A couple more of my men had been injured, but thankfully no more casualties; magic once again proved a force multiplier that could not be beaten, with grease spells knocking people over, distracting illusions sowing panic, blasts of water, shocks of electricity and a myriad of other little tricks taking any effectiveness their abilities with firearms offered and dashing it against the rocks. I had no idea if the dead could be revived a second time, but either way we would be taking our dead with us. Their dead would be left for the crows. Or buried, if I was feeling generous. Right now, I wasn't. I was feeling hungry, but didn't want to set a 'bad example'. Maybe I could get some privacy before I got hangry.

"Tell them what I am offering. Kill those who refuse."

It didn't take long to pick up the seventeen that chose wisely. The three that didn't were cut down swiftly and with no mercy. I would have to learn to speak Human again. It irritated me that I could understand them, but that these fools couldn't understand me. I would have to make do with being heard through Vengis, or another of my subjects.

"Frank, come here," I said, calling for the kobold who had seen fit to warn me of this nest of vipers.

"Sir?" I noticed that although the kobold answered in English, he did understand me.

"This has been too easy, hasn't it?" I asked. "There has been resistance, but still, not enough, there's been no leadership."

"I… think so, yes. For one thing, no police. For another, things are… the city shouldn't be like this. It's all wrong."

"Explain," I asked simply, giving him the room to follow his gut.

"First, the army should've been here. Since they aren't, it must have gotten real bad everywhere, especially if the world has, ah, expanded the way things have 'round here. The last time I was here… the last time I was here I was human, and it was weeks ago. Things were bad then, but now, I think we're dealing with a total collapse. If the police turn up, they won't be helpful."

"Go on, I want to hear you out."

"Uh, well, some police wear the badge because it's the right thing to do. Others wear the badge because they want the badge. We know both types, but let me put it simply; the police always did have places they couldn't go, so with shit hitting the fan like this? No way they'd come here to mess with the Kings when they could pull back and patrol the parts of the city that actually want them there in the first place. Especially now the city is just… that much bigger than it should be. Otherwise they'd never have let things go like this. It's every man for himself. Or lizard, as the case may be."

"So there won't be any… 'objections' to our activity here, so long as what's left of the police don't think they can take advantage of the chaos? And there may be, if they do?"

"Ye… er. Oh." Frank looked at the ground and kicked his feet, sending a few bullet casings flying. "I didn't think about that."

I nodded, agreeing with the kobold. It was always sensible to get a second opinion. The budding ranger was smart, I'd keep an eye out for him.

"You did, I just got there first. Alert the men, be swift. Good thinking on teaming up with your bear friend. Very effective, Ranger Frank."

"He's not my bear, he's—"

I raised a claw for silence, and the kobold grew quiet, looking down at his feet. I waggled said claw and gave a draconic grin, my bottom jaw hanging open.

"He is what he wants to be. Be swift with your warnings and you'll both have time to work that out." I dismissed the pensive-looking kobold and turned to Vengis and Sarge. "I want the new beasts back inside, flushing out any stragglers. Make it clear to them, we're taking control of this place, what's left of it, with or without them and their friends."

There was a distant cacophony of sirens that grew slowly but steadily louder and closer. I growled, my claws digging into the concrete beneath them. I picked one claw up in disgust and shook it, watching the dust fall.

"I will not be caught between two factions," I grumbled. "I'll see this place burn before I surrender it, or myself to being caught between it and the erstwhile boys in blue."

There was a sudden screech of tires, the slamming of doors and then the screech of electrical feedback. The troublesome creatures must have been on the lookout, and called in backup the moment they perceived weakness. That was their first mistake and I intended to punish them for it.

"Attention hostiles, We are the SMPD! We have this facility surrounded! Lay down your weapons, put your hands behind your heads and come out slowly!"

The irritating interloper had some sort of bullhorn and was using it to tell the world how large his nutsack was. I turned to Vengis.

"I need to be seen and heard," I stated, trying hard to keep my annoyance at bay.

"I can…"

"No, I need my voice to be loud. As loud as possible. I need it to carry to as much of this place as possible. And… I want to be seen. Things tend to get a lot easier when the people know what they're dealing with. Can you do that?"

"Not… not by myself, but… yes, I think we can manage something like that."

"Good," I said, a wide grin splitting my jaws. Maybe this wouldn't be quite so tiresome after all.

***

Gordon O'Leery put down the bullhorn and leaned against the patrol car. With a name like O'Leery, being a copper was in his blood, but he hadn't thought he'd have to put up with a situation like this, and it was sorely trying his resolve.

Martial law would've been one thing, but this was disgraceful. Hopefully now that somebody had happened to the Kings, the S.M.P.D. could happen to them in return, and they'd get another little pocket of sanity in this madhouse world, taking back Pineview Mall in the process.

"Corporal O'Leery, Sah! No movement yet. Want to give them another blast?"

"Give them a few moments, Reynolds. Probably gathering their forces."

"Shouldn't we stop them, then?" Reynolds asked, taking off his hat and running his fingers through his regulation-length short hair. Gordon scowled at him, aware his own thinning locks were a little tinged with gray. And missing on top.

"What, and stop them putting all their people together in one place for us?"

"What if they dig in? Get snipers in the buildings?"

O'Leery blinked for a moment, and sighed. "Hadn't thought of that." He picked up the bullhorn again and gave it another blast before continuing. "I repeat! Come out with your hands up and nobody will get hurt! Resist and you will be dealt with with deadly force!"

"Christ that thing's loud," grumbled Reynolds.

"It's supposed to be, Pip. No good if they can't hear us." Gordon's free hand went to his gun at his side, flicking the restraining strap open nervously.

"No good if I can't hear them cos I've done deaf, either," Reynolds griped, sticking one finger in an ear and wiggling it.

"Shut it, something's happening. Look!"

To the shock and awe of the watching crowds, there was a bright flash of light high in the sky, several hundred feet above the tallest part of the mall, and the smoke and dust in the air from the explosion earlier that had first alerted O'Leery's squad members to the opportunity being handed them seemed to flow upwards and congeal, first into a rough ball and then into the shape of, of all things, a massive black dragon.

"People of Stokerville!" the apparition roared, rattling what was left of the windows and setting off a number of car alarms. Again. "I have come burdened with glorious purpose!"

"Is… is he quoting movies now?" hissed Reynolds.

"I think so, PIp," stage-whispered another policeman, Glenn. "I quite liked that one."

"Shh!" hissed O'Leery.

"...sun has set on the old world, I have come with it. I am the Black Dragon of Sunset, and you all now have a choice."

"There's no way that's actually a fucking dragon," Glenn whispered.

"I am no robber baron, I don't care for riches, or sacrifices, or virgins. I will take my fair share of food and resources for myself and those amongst you who will protect you, but no more. All I wish is to rebuild our society and see it rise from the ashes of the old world, united under my banner, so we may all live in peace. Put down your weapons, come out, pledge yourselves to me, and you will not be harmed. Resist, and you will die."

"Likes to hear himself talk at least," Piper — Pip to his friends — replied.

"Fuck, it is a dragon, then." Glenn swore.

"There's no fucking way, it's just some stupid trick." Gordon picked up the bullhorn again, but put it down slowly on the hood of the patrol car as, with loud, thumping steps, something extremely large, black and scaled shouldered its way straight through the barricade of three expensive cars and spread its wings, and roared.

"Open fucking fire!" shouted Gordon, lifting his gun and firing a few shots, backing away as it charged, and all hell broke loose.

There came a roaring, shouting cacophony from behind the dragon as not only humans, but a whole bunch of those crazy fucking critters that had been popping up everywhere advanced, and what was worse, the bullets were bouncing off of some sort of invisible shields.

The shit had well and truly hit the fan.

"Where the fuck are you going?" shouted Piper Reynolds, reloading his hand-gun and taking another couple of pot shots, before turning the gun towards the retreating Gordon.

"I've got to make a call, get some real backup. This is what they were warning us about."

"Get back here!"

"Hold them off!"

"Bastard!"

Piper fired another shot after the retreating Gordon, then turned back to the melee in front of him. This was going to be a long, long day.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

First of all, merry Xmas to one and all. I hope it's at least peaceful and you can all stay warm inside (for those in the southern hemisphere, enjoy your summer).

This is probably a good point to put the second arc to bed, as it were, but we'll be picking up again soon (although maybe after Santa's been).

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Slings and Arrows


I shook myself out as the mix of illusions faded. Twenty or thirty of my beasts had run back inside to clear out the rest of the rats, with a handful given very specific instructions not to let anybody not under my control roam about freely. The majority of my proper forces had returned, and so the 'police' were next on the list.

I felt pretty happy about how things had gone so far, at least when talking about how fair and generous I'd been. I didn't blame anybody not wanting to join under my banner, but they had to see I couldn't let them go. I couldn't let them join forces in some misguided effort to unseat me. No, they had two choices — join me, or die.

The rest of how things had gone… that worried me. It really had been too easy.

Still, whilst 'too easy' raised my hackles, I'd take it. I was sure it'd bite me in the tail, but maybe if I knew that, I'd be able to soften the blow.

I shouldered my way through the cars, shoving them bodily left and right as I advanced on the police perimeter. Showtime. I took a deep breath, and roared. That was the signal for my forces to attack.

Lowering my horned head, I pawed the ground, fixed my gaze on one group of cars one the left, and charged, blinking furiously at the hail of bullets that bounced off my scales. Good, so far these idiots were using small arms. I was sure they had — yup, there it goes. I juked to the side as somebody brought out some sort of machine gun. If that had hit, it might've even hurt. Pity for them they missed. I hadn't. I slammed into the first car and got my head under it, tossing it. Spinning, I slammed my tail into a third and spat acid in a semi-circle onto not only the third, but everybody who was still cowering behind where they'd been.

Using my head as a battering ram, I threw the half-melted corpses of a couple of would-be attackers into the air, and put some speed into my movements as I barrelled through what was left of the nearest vehicle. Spreading my wings and giving them a swift couple of flaps, I leaped into the air, fighting to gain elevation.

I felt bullets perforate my wings in a couple places, but mostly I felt the stings of bullets hitting my softer underbelly. I'd pay for it later, but I could take it. Not that I'd let them get away with it. I banked, turned and made a strafing run, spitting out more streams of noxious acid that melted everything before it.

"Death follows those who stand against me!" I roared, before swooping down and snatching up one policeman in my maw. He screamed and stabbed at me with his gun, too lost to open fire. I shook him until something snapped and he fell limp in my jaws. I snapped my muzzle shut around his body, grabbing the top half and pulling. The body separated in a spray of gore and I wolfed down what I could before spitting out the rest, taking another bite from what I held in my claws and throwing the remainder at the enemy forces still firing on me and mine.

They had chosen poorly. I was invincible.

Of course, hubris is a powerful teacher.

A sudden pain in my shoulder joint where my wing met my body sent me spinning out of the sky, roaring in agony and anger. I went in for a hard landing, wiping out against an armored personnel carrier of some sort, the SWAT team most likely. They got swatted. Scrabbling, I fought to get to what was causing the pain, but I was the wrong shape to pull it out, a long and slender arrow. I twisted and turned, crying out in pain as my efforts to dislodge it dug it deeper, but eventually something caught and it snapped, the head pulling free. My triumph was short-lived however, as another arrow dug into my other wing-joint. I turned and spun, rolling onto my back almost in reflex. I spat acid in a wide arc, trying to hit whoever had shot another arrow at me. I got a third arrow for my troubles lodged into my chest. This one I could pull out, even if only just.

Based on the angle it had impacted… there! Roaring again, I threw myself across the road and dug my claws into the side of the building as I pulled myself up it. Heaving myself over the lip, I was spitting mad. Literally. I spat acid all over the rooftop, watching with a small amount of satisfaction but mostly annoyance as the elf that had peppered me with arrows was forced to retreat, his — or her, elves were incredibly slender it seemed, so I didn't know which I was dealing with, not that it mattered, he or she needed to die — armor and flesh smoking where I'd sprayed them.

I thundered my way across what was left of the roof as my acid melted through the concrete, pulling myself to the lip. "Elves!" I shouted, somewhat lamely. "We're up against elves! If you can't fight them! Hide! Do not die for nothing! Regroup at the base if you get separated! Kobolds, Goblins, Kin of all creeds! The humans know how to operate their vehicles and machinery! Fight from the shadows, guerrilla tactics! But if you can't win, there is no shame in retreat! I, however, will fight on! And our enemies will die! Or I will die trying!"

Another two arrows thumped into my chest, one each side — bastards had had me surrounded all along — but I didn't let them stop me. I tore them out, sighted the closest elf, and threw myself at him before he could dodge. A splitting pain in my shoulder told me that their knives were made of better stuff than the regular human tools, but my teeth were better still. At least against elves. I snatched her up — huh, I idly wondered if male elves tasted better or worse, and resolved to farm a few in revenge if I made it out alive — and shook and grabbed and twisted until her shrieks stopped.

Around me was chaos, total chaos, as most of the human police had been dealt with swiftly, but their forces had been bolstered with a cadre of elves, who were deadly as lightning and twice as quick.

I didn't dare take to the air again, and wasn't sure I could fly in any event, not with both my wings injured. I could glide, however, and they made good battering rams in a pinch. On the ground, weaving amongst the wreckage and bodies, the elven archery was a lot less effective. Which didn't mean much, because they were fucking effective in close quarters with their knives. The only good deal there was that so was I; with my claws, tail, wings, bite and breath I was the match of most things that wanted my hide, which I add was armored.

Pity that I wasn't proof against blunt, brute-force attacks and being gang-rushed by a large number of different, suicidal enemies.

I don't know how long I lasted, I don't know how many I killed or injured, and after an oversized club wielded by some sort of minotaur slammed into the back of my head, I didn't know anything at all.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

I don't have much in the way of backlog as I've been writing another story called "The Next Next Gen" (which you can find here) but that's why I like the shorter 1-2k chapters. Let me know what you think, I enjoy feedback.

Merry Xmas everyone, and a Happy New Year!

---

Regroup

Scar spat and hissed from Pete's back as she took pot-shots at anything and everything that moved, her footing steady despite how Pete weaved to and fro with his ridiculously large gun. As the last of the city guards went down, she rejoiced, but that victory was short-lived as she saw her lord take on the entirety of the rest of the enemy's forces all by himself.

His words resounded in her heart, and she knew what she had to do. Giving up wasn't in the cards, but a tactical withdrawal was. She tapped then slapped Pete until he listened to her, then gesticulated that they should pull back to a more defensive position.

Passing the word out to as many of the kobold and goblin forces as they could, she organized for an across the board retreat back to first the mall and, if necessary, any other defensive position they could take and hold.

They would not be returning to the lair in disgrace, they would fight!

But first, like all good kobolds did, they would prepare.

***

Bear slumped down, breathing hard, as around him the kobolds filtered in. They'd taken over some sort of underground set of service tunnels and had trapped it, mined various other entrances, hidden doors with spells and done everything they could to provide a safe place for the forces of Sunset. With luck it wouldn't be necessary, but better safe than sorry.

"What's the plan, buddy?" Bear asked.

"Well first of all, Bear, you gotta take it easy. You were shot, after all," said Frankie. "If you're gonna be my battle-bear, you gotta stay healthy, you hear? I can't have you dying on me, so rest up. You've been doing most of the work, I've just been along for the ride. Let me check that wound, I'll get you some water, something to eat. Just stay there, please."

"Yeah, yeah, Mom, I gotcha." Bear groaned as he closed his eyes and stretched. He winced only slightly when one of the kobolds, the same one as before he reckoned, but he wasn't too sure, took off his bloodied makeshift bandages and changed them for fresh ones, chittering over the wound itself.

A different, sharper voice entered the fray, and Bear opened one eye to see a goblin sidling up with a large amount of leather straps connected by metal loops and buckles. Bear tried to get up and move away, but he was too tired, and the kobold was insisting he not move.

"Alright, alright, fine, fine, but you're putting it on me, I ain't moving if I've gotta wear it."

He slumped back down again, grumbling. The harness was probably made for a horse, originally, but either the goblin had altered it or it was just that flexible enough to turn it into the start of war barding for him. The kobold yipped and yapped softly as she arranged his bandages so that the leather straps would keep them tightly in place. He had to admit it, he felt better after it was done. He wouldn't want to sleep wearing this — not at least all night long — but it was comfortable and practical.

"If this is how a ranger mount gets treated, I could learn to live with it, I guess," he chuckled, as two others of the kobold group he'd been fighting with started to brush his fur and feed him morsels they cut up by claw.

Frankie snorted at the scene of decadence when he came back, arms laden with basic supplies, then set about repacking them away in case of trouble, before seeing to his gear. The human Dog had come back with his own band of kobolds and had been distributing hunting and camping gear, high quality stuff, and with a lot of choices that fit his new stature.

All in all, it could be worse. It could certainly be better, given what they'd lost, but it could be much worse. Scouts had reported that as soon as the main attack forces had pressed their victory, they'd trussed up the captured dragon and had carted him away somewhere. Other scouts still were following and would report as soon as they were able.

The Sunset forces had pulled back, evacuating or hiding their injured, until the elves and other mixed forces had lost interest. There was a certain amount of tit for tat sniping still going on in the streets above, but it was clear the enemy army had decided to abscond with their prize and were making their own tactical retreat.

***

It was early evening now, and it would be dark soon. Then, they would have a choice. Frankie decided to make it for them. He stood up, clearing his throat, before speaking in a mix of English and Draconic.

"Hey, er, everyone! I'm Frankie. I… I died. You brought me back. I-I-I'm told that I owe my life to the magic that the dragon brought with him, and, well, I want to repay him what I can. The scouts have said they're taking him to Pineview Meadows, or what's left of it, or whatever it's become now. What I wanna know is, what are we gonna do about it?"

"The dragon's instructions were pretty clear," replied Vengis slyly, pushing his lounging body off of the wall and brushing imaginary lint from his shoulders. "We're supposed to scurry with our tails between our legs back to the base and wait for this all to blow over." He cleaned his claws thoughtfully for a moment. "Needless to say I'm not going to do that. I was also ordered not to let any of us die through inaction, and I'm going to lean on that order as hard as I can. It's not going to be easy, we may lose more than a few of us if we do this, but I'm going to lead an assault force into the elves' forest, find and free our lord and kill everybody who gets in my way.

"I've already got the humans in on it, they're scouting along with the vanguard consisting of a number of rangers, and the three heroes. I advise mixed parties of outworlders and Earthers. The former for the elves' tricks, the latter for any local issues."

"You've got my band," said Frankie, saluting. "My bear is injured, but he'll be right as rain with a bit of rest."

"You've got me and my boys and girls too," said a goblin, grinning widely. "We've got a few tricks up our sleeves the Earther humans taught us, and we already know all about elves."

"And we have a few ideas too," said one tall, pale, silvern-haired figure. There was a murmur of discontent across the room, before a very large, green-skinned figure stood up next to him, bearing a gun large enough to blow holes in the side of buildings, with a kobold riding on his shoulder looking equally able to deal with fools.

As soon as the murmuring started, it stopped, not just because of the 'honor guard' but because they recognized this elf. This was their elf. One of the Earthers.

"Exactly my point," said Brian, cracking his knuckles. "If it fooled you for even a second, it'll fool them for a lot longer. Me and my 'prisoners' will take none of our own."

 

[turbofluffysnek]

The Forest and The Night


"Lady Aerilaya," said the elf kneeling in front of the dais. His gaze was on the glade floor, both hands flat on the ground. He tried not to tremble.

"Speak your piece, Thane Eladrin, I tire of interruptions."

"Our woods have been invaded by the Earthers, my lady, and—"

Aeirlaya bit off an annoyed cry, flexing her fingers like claws. "I know, Thane Eladrin," she replied angrily, her voice exuding cold fury. "The humans from this world are weak and pitiful, and as weak and pitiful as our current crop of Vanguards are, I trust that my more elite troops, amongst which I presume you count your own existence, are able to pick up the slack? If not, Thane Eladrin, I have other duties to which I could put your sorry hide. Deal with them, or I shall deal with you, understood?"

"My lady," Eladrin responded, working hard to keep the quiver out of his voice. Not looking up, not daring to meet her gaze, not able to voice his objections, he stood and backed away a number of steps before turning. "I would ask for a modicum of Glamor to assist in our defenses, lest the Earthers breach our inner sanctum, before we are fully prepared."

The glade was Holy, the glade was Home, but until the Great Tree could be born anew on this 'Earth', lingering too long amongst the warmth of its energies put one too close to High Lady Aeirlaya and her fickle temper, and that was bad for one's health.

Aerilaya narrowed her eyes. This world was not their own, they had been cast into it by enemies that sought to make them low, but Fomoran Elves would not be so easily quashed. They would do what they must, under their new High Lady who had staked her claim so boldly and bloodily, to see their kingdom and their people rise again.

"I would know more, my Thane," Aerilaya said, after a longer silence.

"Aesirs Felearn, Aubron, report!" barked Eladrin.

Aerilaya had paused in her preparations, the considered placing of fat candles and offerings around her casting circle in the space before her throne. She sat back down upon it, legs crossed. Two shapes detached from the shadows, forming into two Elite warriors.

"The enemy's forces have penetrated our perimeter, Lady, Thane," said the first.

"Not unexpected, Felearn, go on." Eladrin stood to attention. Such a pitiful showing would reflect badly on him, not his lesser. Somebody wanted a promotion, via dead elf's boots if necessary.

"Aye, sir, but… my forces have been unable to turn them aside. Our Glamor is as yet weak. I have delayed them, split them up, but they are better hunters than we have been led to believe." Felearn happily threw his subordinates under the warbeast.

"The City's Earthers were… fat, useless, like pigs to slaughter. Like little lambs gamboling whilst the wolves watch," added Aubron, eager to similarly shed any blame. "Even the svelte amongst them were little more than show-hounds, suitable for little more than as lap dogs. These are… these are not the same. They are a far cry from a Fomoran at the height of their powers, but in this place…"

"Our scouts' reports were true," continued Felearn, nodding. "They are aided by Outworlders, some from our own good Realm, others from worlds far distant to our own. The Gods that brought us here dwell within the Grand River; they may well have made the Infinite itself their home, but do not themselves step out upon these lands."

The Thane turned to glance at the dragon they had captured, trussed tight and bleeding, slumbering his last few hours away. He could feel something there, something he did not expect, now that he searched for it. It intrigued him. Dragons were loathsome creatures, so few were properly Fey enough to know their place. They bullied and cajoled and threatened their minions, so only the most fanatic of followers would seek out their erstwhile benefactors, but this one… was it different to the dragons he knew? The kobolds were one thing, perhaps the goblins, but the other Earthers? The Outworlders? No, they were likely there for little more than the thrill of the hunt. There were a lot of weapons in this world, it made sense.

"This is my wisdom," Aerilaya said, after some consideration. "Turn them not away, for our magic is too weak to confuse the steel in these Earthers' minds, but seek to… whisper to them. Delay, misdirect. I shall empower your Glamor thus. Are you capable of enacting this, Thane?"

Eladrin winced. "They know not where within this forest that which they seek lies, so… give them the forest. Let them wander its paths in content. Distract them as softly as you can, make them welcome to play within our borders, whisper in their ears about the hunts to be found, the prey, the sights and sounds and smells. They need not be ejected, merely… delayed." He nodded to his Queen, then bowed and withdrew, as quickly as he could.

Slowly, Felearn and Aubron understood. To remove these insects from their lands meant opposing every step, confounding every turn, but to tease and entice, that would only be necessary when these fools looked the wrong way, when they let their guard down.

"And then we kill them?" Aubron whispered, seeing his future conquests already. He would sneak upon them, and strike, silent and deadly.

"When you can, you may," agreed Felearn. "As the High Lady's plans near fruition, our powers will wax greater and greater still, until these woods will truly become our own, and then our nation's borders will swell as far as the Light takes it, and further still with every conquest."

"Until the Light."

"Until the Light."

They followed their Thane into the forest and the night.

After some time, Aerilaya rose once more from her throne of thorns like a delicate, porcelain doll on strings of silver, lifted by the gods themselves, stepping down from the meager dais onto the dewy green grass of the enchanted glade. Her magic was still weak as of now, but she was Fey, so appearances were all part of the deal. Enchanting her throne to be torture for anyone else but her was part of the price she had to pay.

She stepped lightly across the clearing, ignoring the lessers who bowed as she passed, to stand before the path to the Great Tree.

It stood alone in an island surrounded by a silvery pool, bark not nearly ancient enough, sap not nearly sweet enough, but possessing enough of the knowledge of what a tree should be, even here in this gods forsaken arsehole of a realm, that it had been chosen to become… More.

As the gently glowing, somewhat viscous liquid was absorbed by the tree, it changed. Silver glowing veins now ran up the trunk, rising higher and higher with every sip the tree took. The leaves altered, growing larger, turning silver, becoming almost like burnished metal, reflecting the moon and starlight above.

The silvery pool around the tree had grown too, though that had taken a more hands-on approach. At first it had been naught but a puddle, but with every offering fed to it, little by little it had grown into its full nature, until now it was a veritable lake, space and time itself warping around the sapling that had surged into its current aged and soon-to-be timeless form.

With every drop fed to it, the essence in the Well grew stronger and stronger, reaching out to the Old Places with tendrils of Life and Energy, until soon, so very, very soon, the walls would come crashing down and their own Conduit would come forth into its own true power, granting them and theirs access to the birthright of Elvenkind once more, and with this last grand offering, their future was assured.

Aerilaya skipped across the stepping stones, steps so light she could probably have trodden on cobwebs without them breaking, and ran her fingers across its trunk, laughing quietly, before her grasping hand fell upon the muzzle of the passive, gently heaving black form hanging upside down and almost motionless from the branches.

The black dragon had been tied to the tree with great vines, coaxed to wrap around his heinous form until bones creaked, his wings bound, his tail secured to the trunk, and a slice made in his throat. Even now, a rivulet of greenish, black blood flowed down, down, down the trunk, across the grass, to join with the pool.

"Oh yes, wyrm, your vaunted magnificence is now nothing more than a testament to our glory, to our rise," she whispered. "With your lifeblood, our birthright is ascendant. When you have breathed your last, we will be reborn, and you… will be naught but meat and bones. I'll make a throne from your carcass, dear dragon. Your wings will be my dressing screen. Your teeth, my hairbrush. Your bones ground into dust and fed to my forest. Your scales will be forged into armor and your organs a thousand and one potions. But your disgusting presence, dear dragon, will be gone. Forever."

She patted the dragon on the cheek, the blood running down the soon to be carcass almost making it seem as if the beast was crying blood.

***

I was bound, head to toe. I thrashed and raged, each jerking heave punctuated by thunder and lightning. Tearing my head free, I roared until the vines binding me parted and I rose on wings of smoke and fire above the forest below.

I beat my wings slowly, hovering, their up and down motion in time with the pulsing current in my heart. Each downward stroke lighting the vista below me with purple. In a flash, I understood that none of this was real. I peered down with unreal eyes, seeing a spider web of black-green strands flowing out of my body and down into the forest below.

I almost expected to be feeling weaker, but… I wasn't. And that actually worried me. With every moment that passed, I was feeling lighter, warmer, as if my very essence was draining away, as if I were becoming nothing more than smoke in this dreamscape's wind. It was becoming easier and easier to move because I was needing less and less power to do it, and had less impact as I did.

I gathered my thoughts before they, too, disappeared like smoke. Rising above the merely mundane trees was a different type of tree entirely. It was… twisted, somehow. It glowed a bright silver, and with every pulse of energy it sought to draw from me and from the surroundings it sat in, it glowed brighter. It should have looked beautiful, instead it looked ill.

That, then, was my enemy. What could I do against it? I didn't seem to have my acid breath here. I could move, but I might as well have been a wisp. I was flying, but that meant nothing. My life-force was being pulled out of me, slowly, inexorably, and I knew, somehow, that it would leave me nothing but a faded husk, smoke in the wind.

No, no, no, this wasn't right. I couldn't let this happen. I pulled, mentally, at the threads binding me to the forest. With every heave, I felt my life-force returning to me, but as I fought back, so too did the forest. I pulled harder. Eventually something started to give.

I grit my teeth and snarled, words of a poem echoing in my mind. I couldn't remember who wrote it, but thanked him regardless. "I will not go gently unto that good night," I growled, under my breath. "I will indeed rage against the dying of my light. Not just for me, but for everyone who put their trust in me!"

I beat my wings harder, pulling, yanking, tearing at the gossamer strands that bound me to the forest. They stretched, they pulled taut, they burned where their threads were sunk deep into my body, and one by one they started to snap.

"I will not be consumed by some tree! I will not be made prisoner of my flesh! I will live free and I will die free! I will not lie down to be feast upon by insects!"

I was angry. Furious. Steaming, even. I could feel the heat coming off me as my draconic heritage awoke. I didn't know quite what it was, how to use it, where it came from, but I wasn't about to be bled and sacrificed to a fucking tree.

"I will not go gently and neither will my people!" I roared, and the thunder and lightning was back, lighting up the sky behind me. I turned to look, and there they were, nebulous but present, lending me their aid.

The forest beneath me changed. Where before it had been dark pines and wind-swept hills and dales, now it was fetid and steaming jungles, moss-covered vines, algae-covered vines.

I narrowed my eyes. This was it. There was something there. I swooped lower. This was the true battle.

***

Aerilaya wove her magic as she stalked around the Great Spirit Tree. At first, when they'd claimed this glade, the tree itself had been nothing but some form of… inedible apple, suitable for nothing but the birds, if that.

Under her guidance though, with her magic, thanks to her sacrifices, it had swelled and grown and shaped itself into a proper Guardian for them. Its Voice had awoken, at first weak and divided, but now stronger and stronger, more focused.

Above her, finally, this world's moon placed itself into position and her spell could be properly empowered and cast. Speaking a tongue as old as time itself, she bade the Great Spirit claim this unworthy land as its own Demesne, to shelter her and her kind for all time until the end of days. She sang to it of her sacrifices, her blood, sweat and tears, her hopes and dreams, her very soul.

And as the moonlight seemed to solidify above them, the presence of some echo of the Fey Realm's goddess of night and the hunt made itself known.

The Great Spirit Tree Awoke.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

As I'm going to be indisposed until roughly the weekend, here's an early chapter. You have no idea how many times I rewrote this, and I still don't think I'm entirely happy with it, mostly for pacing of the general happenings, but even so I can tell you it should be fun to read and without basic errors.

---

Branches


Tig snuck through the undergrowth like a particularly scaly fox. The firelight up ahead drew his attention, but didn't blind him to his mission, or his quarry, seated around it. He called out the signal as he got into position, answering noises told him the rest of his team was ready too.

With a surge of action, he launched himself into the encampment and tore his way through two of the diminutive humanoids, teeth and claws gutting one whilst his tail-armament caved in the head of another.

Two more gnomes launched themselves at him, but each went down, one with a bolt through their head, another with a dagger sprouting from their back. The fifth was turned into mincemeat by their war-bear Bear, before the surrounding kobold strike team vanished into the dark they'd come thanks to the magical member's concealment spells.

Their enemies might have been on the lookout for kobolds, but bears? Even if the spell failed, bears weren't going to raise an eyebrow until things were far too late.

Tig had known serving the dragon would be a good idea before — a real dragon! And he wanted him! — but now? He got to kill gnomes! Even better! It made sparring with those goblins and dwarves something to look forward to, for example, but racking up a kill-count.

He grinned in the darkness as he scampered up onto the war-bear, loot in claw.

"Let's go!" he whispered to it, as the bear-kin mount snuffled happily in his direction. He also got to ride a war-bear into battle! A bear-kin war-bear!

Oh he would make the dragon proud! He would rescue his lord and ride in triumph back to the ladies back home!

***

Sarge stalked through the forest with his squad. They all had guns, but were reluctant to use them this close to the enemy. It was a good thing they also had a large selection of knives and more than a few crossbows between them.

"Wally, how're we doing?" Sarge hissed to the kobold in front of them. Walter had been a large man before taking a round to the head. Now he was a four foot nothing lizard who still enjoyed a cigar, apparently more than before.

"Bright as day for me, Sarge. Easy street. Follow me, they've got bear-traps out. Got time for Smitty to deactivate them in case more of our guys pass this way?"

Sarge shook his head at how high-pitched Walter's voice sounded now, and at how unaffected the newly-born lizard seemed to be over the whole scales and tails thing. "Sure, just point 'em out, Wally."

The kobold beckoned Smitty over, and the latter squatted down with a tiny pen-light held in his mouth to deactivate the vicious device.

"Down!" hissed Wally a few moments later, one hand on Smitty in advance warning so the man didn't get his face chopped off. Instantly, the five-man band melted into the surroundings. Crashing through the forest came a four-footed creature, snorting steam through its nostrils, a gleaming white horn on its head. Its cloven hooves picked delicately down the trail and the creature raised its head up, sniffing. It gave a bellowing whinny, which was all Smitty needed to launch his desperate attack.

A vicious, hefty iron bear trap on a stupidly heavy chain whirled once, twice, then spun through the air. Somehow, the idiotic attempt worked. The sound it made as the merciless jaws snapped closed over the head and muzzle of the unicorn was the thing of nightmares, as was the unholy scream that the creature let out straight after. Wally darted in, hefted a bowie knife so large it almost looked like a sword in his claws, and slit the throat of the dying animal in one smooth slice. Immediately, its cries were silenced, replaced by wet gurgles as its strangely silvery, softly glowing blood pooled amongst the dirt and leaves.

"Fuck, well now they know we're coming. Wally, keep your head down. No need for you to fuck about, we'll go loud if we need to."

"Gotta get the squirt a BB gun," snarked Bruno, his white teeth stark against his dark skin.

"Fuck you," swore Swally, giving Bruno the finger. Bruno just grinned wider. "You're just jealous I'm getting all the tail now."

"I don't usually go for the girls with quite that much tail, but you might have a point," hissed Denver. "Bruno's been going through a dry spell."

"You shut the fuck up," Bruno retorted, punching Denver in the shoulder. Denver chuckled and leaned away.

"Enough roughhousing, we're on a timer now. Get clear or get ready to fuck shit up," hissed Sarge. A chorus of 'sir's followed.

As one of the bigger members of the unit, Bruno ducked a shoulder. Wally clambered up onto the prepared claw-holds in the man's armor and took point with his crossbow steadied on Bruno's shoulder. It was a tactic rapidly deployed across the entire Sunset force once they'd seen how effective it was with the mixed squads available.

"Nobody's close, but I can hear something coming. More unicorns, I think," said Wally.

"Think they'll have any riders?" whispered Bruno, hefting his gun and checking it was ready to fire. They'd seen a few scouts earlier in the day, before it had gotten dark, elves riding unicorns, but they were seemingly few and far between. They hadn't engaged before, but now the squad was itching for a shot.

"Unlikely if this is just a beastie patrol," Denver suggested. "But you can bet they've sent one or two to get some knife-ears, so they won't be far behind. Those fuckers can move, better than we can."

Maybe unsurprisingly for a seemingly enchanted forest, most of the groups of enemies they'd seen had been a mix of both mundane and otherwise magically inclined animals. It had taken a few ambushes by large-antlered bucks before the team had started deliberately targeting such otherwise innocent looking herds of deer and the like. After that, the attacks by elves had fallen off even as the roving herds and packs of beasts had increased. The animals were easier to avoid or repel, but the downside was that the elves obviously knew they were in the forest. Sarge and his crew didn't have much of a choice but to carry on, however, same as the rest of the Sunset forces. They weren't about to leave their ace in the hole, in a hole, after all.

"Wish we had more of you scaly dudes," Denver said. "No offense, you know the type I'm talking about. Whoosh, boom, pow." He mimed shooting rays of force and explosions.

"None taken, Denny," said Wally. "When we get outta this, I'm gonna see if I can pick any of those smarts up."

"You reckon you can?"

"Hey, I got the scales for it, yeah? Sweet talk a few scaly lasses into giving up their secrets?"

"Not sure that's how it works, but I'll be your wing, er, lizard, yeah?" Denver high-fived Wally whilst Bruno chuckled.

"Alright ladies," said Sarge finally, "shut up, get your big boy pants on, and let's move."

They'd been playing cat and mouse for a while, every so often switching which was which, but they were making progress. They'd thrown off any pursuers up until now, so maybe it was time to get in close and personal.

***

Eladrin narrowed his eyes as the buck bowed before him, one foreleg forwards, antlers bent to the ground. The wretched creature had returned minus half his herd. The elf had been led to believe that the humans of this world were weak — truly, most were — but the ones even now stalking their hallowed paths were wilier than expected and the Cervidae that had been Raised to be the Elven Vanguard were… more disappointing than they should be too. Never matter, it would all come down to the night's ceremony and Aerilaya's magic. When the Great Spirit was brought forth, then their birthright as Fey, as Fomorans, would be restored.

"Your work has pleased me," Eladrin told the creature. It hadn't. "Report to Glauron for further duties."

There would be only one duty for this buck. They needed venison for the feast, after all. Eladrin sighed, then shook himself out as he turned to other things. It seemed some good news was coming his way after all; an elf had captured a kobold, and an orc, of all things!

He cracked his neck as his people escorted a strange elf walking two forms in front of them, one an orc, one a kobold. The orc was also strange, perhaps from another realm where orcs were just… slightly different?

"Come forth, my friend! You are… not one of our elves, are you? But you are similarly lost, and more to the point have performed a great service for the High Lady, delivering our enemies as you have, to us."

The elf prodded the two creatures in front of it, bidding them to kneel. Reluctantly, they did so.

"Tell me, friend, what is your name?"

The elf spun his daggers in his hands, then grinned. "They called me 'Brian' before I was an elf. And that's my orcy buddy Pete, and his little girlfriend Scar. We're here looking for a dragon, you don't happen to have seen one, yeah?"

Eladrin blinked, his brain processing the fact that this elf was using Earther language like a native, then jumped backwards as Brian's blades sliced through the space his neck had occupied a moment prior. There were distant explosions as the orc, so obviously now unshackled, threw itself forwards and raised its weapon, firing it at the elves, gnomes and bugbears that had come roaring out of the forest to try to subdue it. The kobold, for all it was a diminutive wretch, was also making short work of the smaller forces sent towards the trio.

"Sorry, did you expect us to be on your side? Yeah, nah, not gonna happen!" laughed Pete, between gun bursts. The orc was easy to target, but shrugged off what weaponry the elves and allies could muster. The damned kobold was too quick, and was being actively sheltered by the orc, and the damned elf was, as much as he was obviously untrained, sickeningly able to perform, almost as if… as if he were already empowered.

Fuck!

"Raise the alarm! Tell Aerilaya! The Earthers are—"

Sadly for him, whatever he was going to say was cut off as a crossbow bolt lodged itself in his spine, by way of his neck. Eladrin put his hand to his throat as silvery blood bubbled up out of it, gasping for breath, then fell to his knees.

He would not fall here! He would not be stopped! He would not—

Oh, that's strange, the world was spin—

***

Karg bent down and picked up some dirt from the forest floor. He crumbled it between his fingers, tasted it, then spat. "Dragon blood. Something heavy came this way, bugbear I think. Tried to hide it, boss, but dragon's is hard to hide. Specially bleeding."

"We found it, girls and boys," said Rarix, grinning wide on a face built for grinning very wide. "Everybody got their toys?"

A chorus of answers followed. The recent trek had turned bloody, so stealth was more or less already a thing of the past. They'd joined up with the humans with their egg-stealers, and had fought off waves of badgers and elk and deer and other woodland critters, enduring traps that had taken a few legs and arms — replacements would be made once they all went home, until then the unfortunates would have to Deal — until they'd finally found their prize. The dragon was close, really close.

"How far?" Rarix asked. "Long ago? That way?"

Karg pointed in the opposite direction, causing more than a few cajoling bouts of laughter. "Been a while, but not that long."

"Our boy alive?"

"Yep, was at least."

"Good, good. 'Bout time we paid 'em back fer the insults, right?"

There was a general cry of agreement from the goblin warband. They'd been tripped and trapped and misled and waylaid until they'd figured the lay of things, and now their prize was within their grasp.

"We're goblins, girls and boys. What do we do best?"

"FUCK SHIT UP!" came the cry.

"That's what I like to hear."

Rarix took one of the Earther's prized cigars out of a pocket, clipped the end, gripped it in his teeth, lit it up with one of their wonderful, wonderful lighters, and took a deep drag. And then he lit the rag on a molotov cocktail, extended a long, bony, muscle-bound arm back over his shoulder, and threw it into the forest of the fucking bastard elves and watched with glee as the flames and smoked started to rise.

"Well then?" he said, taking another drag, "get to it, my lovelies."

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Well, last day of the year! I hope (faint hope though it may be) that 2023 was kind to you, and I hope 2024 is at the very least kinder.

My backlog in this story has been obliterated, but I have next week off to recover from last week's holiday. I plan to use it.

---

Paths

Prongs-in-Winter stepped carefully through the undergrowth, keeping his ears and other senses out for the intruders. Ever since the Masters had come, life had been… difficult. He didn't recall really when he first knew about… things, but he did know that being generally unhappy about it all had started soon after.

He also knew he wasn't happy about… about the Masters in general. Bellows-Lustily hadn't really been a friend — and wasn't that a strange idea — but Prongs was aware that what had been done to the Patriarch of his little herd wasn't… right. It had been… wrong.

Deer knew where they were in the great tapestry of life. They ate the green and growing things, and the fang-bearers ate them. But to be… to be culled — he needed a new word for the insult — for… doing a thing? Not doing a thing? Prongs wasn't sure what it was that had happened since the Masters had said the Good Words but done a Bad Thing, and the Bad Thing had been Badder because of the Good Words. They had… they had lied.

Prongs-in-Winter really, really hated the idea of lying. Saying that which was not true. He could understand hiding oneself from the enemy, he could not only fully support but took place in the kind of bellowing, prancing, snorting play by play when the fanged ones came close, or when courting a mate, or when battling for breeding rights, but that was an understood exchange. Lying was something different, and wrong. These Masters were… were… they were Calves Born In The Wrong Season, is what they were!

Prongs-in-Winter was now considering something that he hadn't even been aware of, not even peripherally. He was thinking about disobeying. And he liked the idea. These Masters had given them gifts, had promised them rewards for obeying, but Prongs-in-Winter now saw what these rewards were. Lies and culling.

Gently, he prodded Tail-Like-Moon and Calf-Spots and Ear-Nuzzles away from the trails. He told them to… to go find Pretty-Tail — most with such names were does, but Pretty-Tail did have a pretty tail, so who was Prongs to argue? — and to keep themselves away from the Intruders. He would join them soon. If not, there would be another Male to lead them, as was right in the Ways of the Forest.

And then he moved to find some of the Masters and do to them some lies and culling before they could do it to him.

***

I floated above the forest as it warped and spun beneath me. The storm clouds of my people spread amongst the dank, fetid land spread out before me, and it became a branch-laden swamp in their wake.

"Tell me what you want," I whispered weakly, as I drifted.

I'd fought the forest as hard as I could, but eventually realized that it wasn't what I wanted or needed to do. The tree drank it all in, roots stabbing into the earth, tearing it open like a festering wound, so I had sunk into said forest and spoken to it, cajoled it, curried its favor. Now the very forest itself danced to my tune, my whispered words, but still I was dying. There was something I didn't understand, something I was missing.

The last but one tendrils of my being seemingly snapped, leaving just one gossamer thin spider web of light between me and the forest. I sank into it, and closed my eyes. So tired. So sleepy. So easy to give in.

Darkness. An empty, eternal, featureless plane.

"Well, well, well," came a voice, from somewhere behind me, as if multiple people were speaking at once.

"Impressive beginning, for one so lost," said another voice, singular this time.

I tried to turn, to look and see, but wherever my sight fell, there was nothing but darkness. These voices were nothing like the demanding cacophony that had tried to take my sanity before, making nothing but demands, giving nothing but pain. Still, I did not let my guard down, did not trust them.

"I failed though," I said dully. "I died."

"Died?" came the panoply of voices. "Hmm, maybe you are not suitable for the Gifts you have been given."

"I'm not dead?" I asked, whirling again. Unexpected. Nothing was being asked of me. Nothing cajoled, nothing forced.

"She did say 'beginning', young one," said the second, lone voice. "Still, if you do not apply yourself, death will of course come for you."

"Apply myself? But I don't know how to defeat it!"

"Defeat what?" asked the multitude.

"The forest!" I shouted back.

"You cannot see the forest, as they say, for the trees," laughed the singular voice. I stiffened. "Ahh, the hatchling finally understands."

"You have granted him a boon, brother," said the multitudinous female voice, chiding. "Most unfair, to hand out such things one-sided. Tut-tut."

"Then you may grant him one too, sister!" The male voice was boisterous, amused. "I hereby grant you the right to reward him in any way you see fit!"

"I shall think upon it, brother. I shall—"

I was back in the forest, that last gossamer thread threatening to snap, though I would no longer let it. I relaxed, and leaned into the forest surrounding me. "No, no, my friends, you don't need me," I said, sending my intentions down to spread around into the land around me, "you already have everything you need. Just take it back, from the one who stole it."

The pull on my essence stopped. There was a moment of silence, of stillness, and then I felt it. Strength, flooding back into me. I felt my form swell, grow, expand. The forest beneath me was… not mine, not like I would want, but it was with me. It was vast, old, and patient. And now it moved to its own tune.

"You made a mistake, my upstart friend," I said to the tree in the middle of the glade, as it seemed to now want to hide from what surrounded it, as wings of flame burst from my back. I swooped towards it, fearless now. It seemed to shrink away from my presence most of all. "Your mistake was a simple one, too."

I swooped closer still, landed upon it, clawed my way along it, around it, until I found a comfortable position. I put my muzzle close to it, and whispered.

"You tried to make my blood part of your blood. Instead, I made your blood part of mine."

***

Sarge set his weight on his front foot, braced himself, and fired. "Light 'em up, boys!" he shouted gleefully. A stinging pain in his shoulder gave him some pause, but the arrow hadn't penetrated deep. A kobold swooped in and, even as Sarge kept firing, clambered up his body, pulled out the shaft and patched him up in exactly the way it normally shouldn't be done yet it still worked. A swipe with a tail-weapon clanged noisily off another arrow in an incredibly dextrous display of anti-elf weaponry, and then the creature was gone, melting back into the melee before he or she could be targeted.

"Fucking love those guys," Sarge chuckled under his breath, wincing as he rolled in shoulder, testing the wound. "Can't get enough of 'em. Sappers! Fuckin' 'ave 'em!" The man raised his voice, pointing, which was a good enough signal to have a number of goblin sudden rapid deconstruction specialists toss a few Rarix Specials into the fray. There was a very, very loud set of noises and suddenly a lot less elves. At least, in one piece. There was quite a lot of elf in quite a lot of places, but mostly unmoving.

"Rarix, man, good to see you!"

"Pink skins, glad you're in one piece. Cigar?"

"Not quite yet, Chief, principle of the thing for me."

"Ahh, principles." Rarix lit a stick of something with the end of his own stogie and threw it. Ite exploded off in the distance. "Don't see too much use in 'em meself. We found the dragon."

"Came this way, did he?"

"Yup, knife-eared fuckers have led us a merry dance all over this hell-hole, then they made the mistake of letting you pink skins cut in."

"Don't mind if we do, gobbos!" said Denver, offering a fist down to Rarix, who happily punched it, drew back and mimed an explosion.

"Can I have this one, Chief?" Rarix asked Sarge, grinning.

"I think he was after kobold tail more'n gobbo's, Rarix."

"Mm, then I'll get our girls to show him a good time, turn him away from the baby-eaters before he's ruined for life."

"To you egg-stealers? Never gonna happen," said Wally, butting into the fun. Rarix and the kobold shared a grin with roughly equal amounts of teeth.

"I like this one. You're alright with me."

"Duck!" Wally jumped and spun, and his tail-piece deflected an arrow from an elf that would've put a real crimp on Rarix' day.

"Festering boils," Rarix swore as he picked himself up. "A gobbo owing a life-debt to a 'bold? Well now that's an insult I have to deal with pronto. Come on, baby-eater, you're with my boys until we've saved your life."

"If Sarge says it's okay."

"Give us somebody to keep our spirits up," gruffed Sarge, ducking behind a tree.

"Krunk! Krunk ya filthy gobshite!"

"Sah?"

"These're your boys fer now. Have fun."

"Yessah! Giddy up fat boy, we got places to go!" Krunk threw himself at Denver, stole a pistol, and started taking potshots at the elves from the man's shoulder.

"I might keep him," Sarge said with a grin. "Smells better'n some of my lot at least. Let's see if he shoots better."

"Sarge," said Frankie, huffing and out of breath from hauling his scaled backside across the battlefield whilst avoiding being turned into a pincushion.

"Ahh… sorry soldier, don't know your name, haven't really learned to tell the, ah…" Sarge gestured to the tail and scales.

"It's me, Frank, and don't worry 'bout it. Phew," he wheezed. "Came to say, stop targeting the beasties if they don't attack you, they're on our side!"

Sarge blinked. "They are?"

"Yeah, couple of, ah, my lot says they've been treated like shit, don't like it. Won't do what the knife-ears say no more."

"I'll pass the word around! Thanks Frank!"

"No probs, sir."

"Keep your tail covered, lad, we're headed to the real battle, we found the dragon. Pass that on, if you're up for it?"

"Will do!"

Frankie scampered off.

***

Wren perched on a tree limb, motionless. He was used to Elven forests, had been brought up by the denizens of such places, even. He spoke Elvish, though these ones' tongue was warped and changed.

He could feel their magic, of course, had tasted its weft and warp. He'd made himself small against it as soon as he'd offered to take point, to step into the Domain of the Fey, and as such had forged ahead where others had found themselves confounded and turned by the elven glamor.

Trails opened to Wren where others would find nothing but brambles and scrub. Paths were clear as day to him where to others there would be naught but nettles and mud. Not because there were the kinds of Fairy Paths as were found in the world of his home, used to traverse Under and Over, but because here in this world there was as yet nothing of the sort at all.

This world, Wren could feel, was broken. It had been shattered upon the knee of some Great Power and bent and twisted until it pleased its new master. He had learned what it had been like before the Change, though his mind could scarcely comprehend it for its strangeness, but here, behind the mirage painted by the Elves, he could almost see it as what is and what was sought for dominance.

This place had been nothing more than gardens for the wealthy, trees planted as one would arrange the stuffed carcasses of animals one might hunt, put on display for the idle to gawk at. Oh, they had not been mistreated, these trees, but this had been a place for sitting and eating, for lounging in the sun, for shelter from light rain. The great tracts of lands now buried under bark and leaf still spoke to him of what had been, and though he could feel its spirit awakening to its new purpose, the echoes of the old shape it had held still remained. It hadn't been sore for its previous life, and was cautiously optimistic about the new.

It was the echoes of the Land's Voice that he leaned into, in the ways his teachers had long ago taught him, to traverse the changed terrain. His skills had borne fruit. He'd forged ahead of his friends and allies, snuck silently past his foes, and, heeding the violence he could hear off in the distance, prepared to make his move. The center, the very heart of the enemy encampment, the source of the forest's song, was before him. The dragon, that great monster that had told him to his face it would kill him should he dare leave its service, was tied to a tree, trussed like a turkey, bleeding out and dying.

Here, now, with the Elven Domain reaching a slow but inexorable crescendo, the dragon's own laws fought against him. Do what is best for his people. Ensure none come to harm by action or inaction. Protect your own life. The dragon had never explicitly said not to harm him other than not to work against him, and indeed the spirit of the Law had made it clear that the dragon's own wishes could be moved against should they come into conflict with his true intent.

Here and now, Wren could sink an arrow into the dragon's heart, killing him, freeing them all from the need to seek him out. Freeing them from his clutches. Freeing Wren himself from slavery.

Wren notched an arrow in his bow. His finest arrow, the last of a batch made by a master craftsman, blessed by the spirits to always fly true, to fulfill the will of the one who loosed it. He took a deep breath, let it out, pulled, and let fly.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Silence and Song


Wren's arrow flew through the air. It sliced through the bonds holding the black dragon tight to the tree, and the vines snapped. The figure of his lord and master fell to the ground, splashing into the pool of silvery blood that surrounded the tree and sinking without a trace.

"Everybody gets one," Wren whispered. Then in a flash he notched another arrow, aimed it at the High Lady Aerilaya, and let fly. "And here's yours."

That was when the first nearby explosion went off, swiftly followed by another and another, as the smell of smoke and flames began to permeate the glade. The roar and clamor of fighting that had been a distant background noise grew louder, as the humans and their allies and assorted forces surged into the glade.

Wren tried hard not to let the swelling emotions in his chest overwhelm him, but he couldn't help but let out a ragged whooping cheer as the dragon, that had until very, very recently been dying, trapped by vines, pulled himself coughing and spluttering out of the silvery pool.

The black dragon heaved himself bodily out onto the shore, hocking up great maw-fulls of the fey blood — it couldn't be anything else, now Wren thought about it, shuddering at what had been done to create that pool — before opening his eyes and rolling painfully to his feet, swaying weakly.

Wren had no real choice, though this time he didn't regret it, didn't even think twice. He leaped down from his perch, sped across the battlefield and threw himself at the dragon.

"Sire!" he called, grabbing onto the creature and holding tight. "I'm so glad you're free. Let me heal you, restore you!"

Taking in a great, heaving breath, the dragon's head snaked down to look at the halfling. "So, you've chosen a side?"

"I… I have. Be still, sire, this will take but a moment."

Wren concentrated, layering two spells on top of each other, begging whatever spirits were out there to hear him as loudly and clearly as he could. Please, he sent, heal my master. Restore his grandeur that these… these twisted elves have taken.

The spirits answered, and Wren felt the warm, healing energies surge through him and into the dragon. Cuts closed up, lesions melted away, joints cracked back into place, even the membrane of the dragon's wings smoothed over.

The dragon took a deep breath, then let it all out. "Thank you, my smallest knight. You have done me a great service this day. Tell me, how good are you at shooting from a moving platform?"

"Sire?" Wren looked up at the dragon, confused, as the dragon dipped a shoulder. "Sire, I ca-can't!"

"Up you get, Wren, I need to see the battlefield, and I would rather be useful doing it." Wren gulped, then, grabbing at the dragon's horns, pulled himself onto the beast's neck. "Hold tight!"

And then they were airborne, and Wren was picking off targets from a hundred feet up.

***

The forest dreamed. Melt, warmth, cooler, dark. It took a breath. Water, grow, flower, sleep.

It hadn't been a large forest. It hadn't been a forest at all. In all truth, the land had been sculpted above refuse, buried deep, turned from scrub to meadow. Green grass, manicured and pampered by men, spread across small, lazy hills, dotted with little trees that barely knew more than being seedlings.

But it was there, patient, growing. It knew of mankind, in the way that nature usually does, as peripheral creatures that ebbed and flowed with the great seasons made manifest only at the speed a tree's heart beats at, at the ages almost shared by the rocks, the slowest of the world's features.

And then came The Change. The forest had stretched and spread, gifted by the new world with might and majesty to rival the ancient forests that had ruled the planet in ages past, the echo of which is felt even today beneath the feet of these upstart animals daring to call themselves masters of all they survey.

What a pitiful joke, but with the growth had come the depth and power of the Old Forests so allowing these animals to believe they still owned it when instead they lived in the forest, not the other way around, was amusing.

The World had gifted The Forest animals — bear, deer, elk, wolves, hedgehogs, squirrels, rats, spiders, bats… oh such joy! A thousand, thousand singing multitude of voices — and it had known that now, now, it would be something spoken of it hushed whispers by the upstarts.

Then the Others had come. And for a time, they had been… good. They loved the forest, or so they claimed. The Forest felt their embrace, but… no, no, these creatures too thought The Forest belonged to them rather than the other way around, and this time it was less amusing.

They tricked and they trapped and they tore at The Forest's very heart, making it beat to a new rhythm, a stabbing new note in the symphony that felt just… Wrong.

The strange creature, so fast like the rest of the animals, yet slow… living on the scale of the rocks almost, spoke to it. It too wanted to own the forest, but this one knew it could not take it, not at least now, and if not now, then never.

The black one spoke of… rebellion. Of fighting back.

With The Change had come a new speed, a new world, a new way. The Forest did not wish to be owned and manicured and pampered and cut and logged and charted and… no, no, it did not. It was wild, untamed, dangerous. It called out to the beetles, to the birds, to the foxes, to the rodents, to the spiders and bugs and every little thing that crawled, ran, flew, swam… and it sent them against the Others. It drank back the power that had been bled from its denizens, and it poured it into itself, into new guardians that it whispered to of new plans, new ways. The Other's Tree was a thorn, and The Forest knew about thorns. Thorns, after all, needed roses. So it was right and just that The Forest make itself some roses.

With great, cracking wrenches, the chosen trees felt their spirits quicken, and the spirits of the chosen trees, made treants, awoke. They turned to see their twisted sibling, that which had sought to rule above them all, and moved to contain and protect it, not only from the Others, but from itself. Even as the Other's tree raged, the new grove swelled and bloomed around it.

Magic may have been new to this world, but The Forest knew of the Old Magic, from half-remembered dreams that flowed through every leaf and branch, that always had, and always would until the last of days. Magic swirled up, and surrounded the Glade, and began to push everything else out.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, and you may have to wait until the weekend or Monday for another (blame Baldur's Gate 3, it's a fab game), but I hope you enjoy!

---

The Weft

Aerilaya screeched in anger as first some insolent worm freed the dragon, then presumed themselves worthy enough adversaries to injure her! She ripped the arrow out of her shoulder, hissing in pain, then forced a spell through it to heal. The culmination of the Ritual was here! The Great Tree was awake! It was becoming a Conduit! Soon, moments in fact, and these insects would be crushed.

"I will kill you all!" she shouted, summoning vines and acid and fire and… she lurched as the world went sideways. What was happening? Her Conduit! She fell to the ground as the Son that had grown so vibrant suddenly dimmed and shattered into a cacophonous wail. Dimly, she saw the dragon heave itself out of the pool, and it was only really then that she realized her Glade was under attack. Sending as much power back through into the Conduit as she could, she quieted the wailing and smoothed out its Song. It was weak, but it was there.

Had the dragon done something? No, the wretched creature was half dead! The Outsiders were coming, but those incompetent, insolent oafs were little better than the animals she'd sacrificed to fill the pool!

"Honor Guard! Attend me!" she ordered, and immediately a half dozen elves melted in from the shadows, but rather than an instant change in circumstance, the best they could do was hold off the intruders, who even now were advancing en masse. She swore, spitting bile, then made the call. "Retreat! Retreat to the forest! We will regroup!"

Moving before she and her forces could get pincered by the dragon, some little bastard shit that was even now healing the beast, and the human and other gutter scum 'kin that were piling into the Glade, Aerilaya, First and Last Elf Queen of Earth, ran for her life.

***

I shook my head as Wren's magic healed and restored me. The pint-sized protagonist had done me a solid. What a curiously Human expression, I must have been hurt worse than I'd realized!

I took a deep breath, then let it all out. Time to use my advantages to the fullet. "Thank you, my smallest knight. You have done me a great service this day. Tell me, how good are you at shooting from a moving platform?"

"Sire?" Wren looked up, confused, as I dipped a shoulder. "Sire, I ca-can't!" he moaned. I chuckled.

"Up you get, Wren, I need to see the battlefield, and I would rather be useful doing it."

Wren gulped, then grabbed at my horns and pulled himself onto my neck.

"Hold tight!" I roared, bunched my renewed muscles, and leaped skywards. In moments we were airborne, and Wren was picking off targets from a hundred feet up. "That's more like it! Death to the elves! Death to those who would oppose me!"

I spat acid, as carefully as I could, feeling with every blast that the Forest beneath me didn't quite agree with my overly liberal use of it. I decided to save further attacks and instead used my mounted gunner to do most of the damage whilst I rallied the troops and observed the situation.

There were elves everywhere, which explained why the streets had been seemingly empty of them. Of course, with every passing moment there were less of them. They were fast and quick, and could take a lot of damage, but they were as unprepared for assault rifles as the Kings had been for magic. I loathed the day, which I knew was fast approaching, when that advantage would be gone, whether it was through lack of ammunition or just adjusted tactics.

I watched as the tide of battle changed, and for the first time in a long time, I felt small. What had been just the noises of battle, the cracking of branches and the snapping of twigs, the noises grew in intensity, until from the shadows emerged a band of dark and moss-covered tree-like creatures that forced their way to the edge of the pool and threw their root-like limbs into it, before turning and moving to surround the central tree, and stabbing and swaying and lunging at all else who grew close.

Treants! Summoned by the Forest, who had most definitely taken the hint from whatever dreamworld I'd found myself in, tied to that withering tree in the middle of the lake.

In moments, everything changed. Where before the glade had been a picture of serenity and grace, it was now a hell of shattered bark, grasping vines, sucking bogs and sharp thorns. War had come to Pinewood, and Pinewood had learned fast. The central tree, previously so tall and mighty, looked almost diseased and torn. It was changing, too, though it still held that silvery luster.

As the last of the elves fled, I came in for a landing. Immediately as my claws touched the earth, I could feel the difference. There was a power here now, a presence that had previously been lacking, and it was not entirely friendly. I approached the center of the glade, but felt the enmity of the treants and the cautious fury of the Forest held at bay. I didn't blame it.

"The pool is yours, my friends, as is the power that comes with it, but remember who gave it to you, who must be punished, and who should be thanked," I said aloud.

The tree-creatures closed ranks, and seemed to glare at me through knots in their bark. I chuckled throatily, exhausted. "I shall get my forces to be careful with their flames and their blades, and in return, you will be careful where your new minions bare their fangs, agreed?"

I hadn't been ignorant of the woodland critters picking a side — their own. The treants' branches creaked in the non-existent wind. I sighed. I didn't want to have to face another enemy, especially not one that was literally everywhere, but I would if I had to.

"I would part as friends, or I can burn this forest to the ground. You could perhaps kill a number of my people, but you would burn, I can promise you that. I would burn the heart out of you, my friend, to the last sapling."

I had tried sweet talking, now came the stick instead of the carrot. The creaking continued though I sensed the hostility decrease, and I tilted my head, pondering.

"Alright, another bargain. I will deliver to you the dross that suits not my kingdom, and you may use them for what you will, save that you do not kill them."

The treants leaned back, and a swift vine speared an elf, heretofore hiding at the Glade's edge, through his heart.

"Well, you do not need to keep them alive, as such, just do not kill them yourself. They'll be otherwise yours, save that they still may not move against me. Do with them otherwise what you will. I will give the word, and we will… limit our flames, and see that they do not burn excessively. I will limit our blades, see that we do not cut excessively. Some logging may happen," the forest didn't like that, but I glared with all my might, "but only so much as you cannot repel. Which is why I am offering you minions, to defend yourself where it is not my rightful claim to some bounty, as dictated by nature itself. No more than you can bear, I swear this."

I could see the Forest thinking about it, then a circle of vines grew from the treant nearest me. I cautioned everybody from my forces not to go near it.

"My people," I called, as they assembled before me, "we have won. And now, we will pay tribute to the Forest that has decided it will be our ally. All who wish to leave my service, step into that circle. You have my word that you will not be harmed, and that you will not be killed. Freedom from my shackles is yours for the taking!"

I turned, breathed deeply, and roared.

I was deeply moved when none of my named forces chose the 'easy' way out. This meant I would have to give up some of my dogs. What a shame.

"Alright, people, let's evict the last of those damned elves, and send a runner to the mall. I have some personnel assignments to hand out. Let's move!"

 

[turbofluffysnek]

and we're back!

The Warp


Aerilaya staked out the clearing, the twenty or so elves still remaining to her guarding the perimeter. To think she'd been reduced to this, to bargaining, with a plant.

If it hadn't been for that damned dragon, doing… whatever it did, the ritual would have been completed successfully, properly. Instead, it had been warped and broken, misappropriated by some new force that had ripped the nascent conduit from her grasp and all but snuffed out her connection to the Great Tree.

It was, however, still there, and through it she could still talk to the forest. Right now, she was doing her best to weave a new spell, to create a Path.

Elven forests, even ones that had been tainted by beasts like that dragon, were deep. Their nooks and crannies, their hills and valleys, didn't always lead straight to where they appeared to. Aerilaya was persuading the forest to meander, between this world and another, any other, and the forest was listening.

The forest listened to the whispered words, considering. It had the power, oh yes. That dragon was but a whelp compared to the forest, for all it was a decent Conduit. Where the dragon concentrated power in itself, the forest's power spread throughout the whole of it, and though it truly loathed the elves for what they had done to it, as in truth it loathed all attempts to co-opt and control it, the knowledge of the realms surrounding it wasn't something it would turn down.

Without any visible preamble, Aerilaya instead just felt how things changed. The shadows grew longer, the colors wilder, the winds fresher, the life force, the mana, thicker. A Path had been born.

"Come, my faithful. This is not a retreat, this a regrouping. We will pass between the worlds, beyond the hills we know, and we will find allies, subordinates, brothers and sisters, and when we are ready, we will return stronger, and crush that dragon, take his lands, obliterate his people and stand triumphant upon his corpse and burn this world to ashes."

It stung, how much of that was a lie, but when you are queen, you have little choice.

With nary a whisper, the elves Walked the Path, and were gone.

The forest watched them, with a thousand thousand eyes. They were interesting, those elves, if nothing else, and now… now the forest knew how thin the walls were between the worlds, and how with the right little push, one could shatter that boundary like it never was.

Where those elves went, no, not so interesting for a forest. It would keep the Path around, it liked how that other world felt, but what the forest searched for itself was something else, something more… primal.

There was a world out there, it knew, that suited the forest. The forest knew all about the give and take of life. The leaf eaters ate the grasses and berries and leaves and shoots. The fang-bearers ate them. And then, in turn, the fang bearers died, and their blood watered the plants and the beetles and maggots ate their flesh, and so the cycle continued.

The dragon, for all it was oafish and rude and presumed far too much, seemed to understand the tapestry of life. It did not seek to control the forest, although it was clear it dearly wanted to. The dragon knew that it would pay for the flesh it took from the forest, for the wood, for the… resources. Yes, that was the human word, resources.

So, the forest desired resources that would stymie the black dragon, and for that it needed… there!

Leaning on its power, the forest pushed at the invisible, shadow-thin boundary between here and there just as the elf had and… like a soap bubble the barrier popped. Almost immediately the forest recoiled from the presence in the realm beyond. It was endless. Ahh, the majesty of the Great Forest Above All, it was almost too much to bear… but the Great Forest Above All was patient with its kin. After all, it knew that one day All would the The Forest, and on that grand day of unification, all sins could be forgiven.

Against that day, the Greatest of all Forests could spare a few creatures from the Wildlands that made up its domain.

And Pinewood Forest learned.

***

I gathered my forces, holding court in the elven glade. My men and women of all races filtered in, slowly, as the enemy forces of gnomes and bugbears retreated. The elves had fled, it seemed, without informing their subordinates. How tiring. The sooner I could sweet talk the forest into seeing things more my way, the better.

"Sarge, I want you to send a few of your men, a couple of squads, and fetch all the dogs. Quite frankly, I want you to offer the same deal to everyone working under me… I'm going to give an offering to this forest."

I looked down at him, realizing that not only had I not asked Vengis to translate for me, but that Sarge actually understood regardless. I'm not sure who was more surprised.

"An offering?" he asked. "I dunno, sir, that doesn't sound—"

"Ah, I should be more specific," I added, raising a claw. "A live offering, not a dead one, not a blood offering, and one freely given. I won't force anybody, not even the dogs. If needs must, I will find others who do not yet trust in my mercy. I am sure that there are plenty who would bend the knee to my power, but who would not know in their heart that I am their best path to true freedom."

Sarge grimaced slightly at that, but nodded his head. "I can't say as you've treated us badly, sir. I don't know I agree with capturing people just to give them away, but I do understand the benefits. To us, at least."

"I won't be giving people away to be sacrificed, Sarge. Think of it as an exchange of prisoners if you wish. I will offer people who do not shelter under my wings an alternative. An alternative I will offer to certain of those who no longer desire to be a part of my kingdom. The only stipulations I make are that these new citizens of the forest not move against me or mine, and that they are not harmed by submitting to the forest. What happens after they leave my protection is not up to me, but if there are those foolish or contrary enough to venture it, so be it. Better they are gone than I have to deal with malcontents."

Slowly, Sarge nodded. "I'll get it done."

***

The forest was feeling out its strength, I could tell. It didn't want me or my people in the glade, and likely when we left, we would not be able to easily return.

I was sure I could have persuaded it to let me return, but not with the forces I now had, and that would be less than desirable. No, instead I would have to wait for my men to return… but eventually, return they did, with some twenty to thirty humans guarded by ten soldiers.

"Greetings, greetings," I called, as the dross shuffled in. They looked angry. Good. I was sure that after being called by a king they despised, forced to fight for a cause they opposed and now being dragged miles through a forest they didn't want to set foot in, they were well and truly ready to fly the coop.

"Silence, now," I said softly, though my voice resonated. I was still marveling over my newfound ability to speak to everyone, and apparently understand them back. "I have brought you here to fulfill a promise made a scant few days ago. I am going to set you free."

There was murmuring in the crowd. I waited a few seconds before lifting a claw for them to cease prattling, waiting patiently until they did. "However, as you can see, things are not as simple as you may expect. I cannot just… let you go, and I have promised not to harm you. So here is the deal. You are all going to be given the chance to switch allegiances. Swear yourself to this forest, and you may go free from my control, save that you do not ever work against me or mine. In return, the forest will shelter you from forces such as my own, and has pledged not to harm you itself."

"And, uh, how would we do this?" asked one man, eventually, stepping forwards.

"Just a simple affirmative answer to the question I now ask. Do any of you here, standing in this glade, wish to pledge yourselves to the forest?"

There was a chorus of 'I do's' and I smiled, showing my teeth, stepping back as I felt the forest take hold of them. Ahh, now I could see they understood what they had done, but it really was too late.

My touch on my minion's minds was light. I gave them three simple laws and believed in their best efforts. The forest, though, the forest didn't think that way at all. Figure after figure moved silently through the glade, and one by one they stepped into the circle of vines. As they did so, their forms changed. It was fascinating, really. I could feel the energies being woven into them by the forest. I so dearly wanted to understand how it was done. My minions could do it, why couldn't I? Maybe I could learn.

I watched as human after human left their humanity behind. The forest didn't want humans, it didn't need humans. I don't think it even particularly liked humans. I knew it didn't like me, but I was a dragon, I was used to that. What it did want was denizens. Harm was such a wonderful word, for creatures like me or the forest. Hurt, injury, those were simple to point to. Harm, though, harm was harder to define.

A Floridian Swamp Puppy? My, the forest was branching out! Another one! More! A swarm of… bees? I wasn't sure if they were bees, wasps, hornets, or some amalgamation of the three… hedgehogs? I briefly wondered what it would be like to have my mind split into multiple, smaller parts. Would I enjoy it? Wolves, elk, deer, badgers, wolverines! Ahh, I was going to love hunting here as the populations stabilized. Pelts, meat, trophies… Finally it was done. I could feel the forest was… amused? Thankful? Some mix of these, at least, and then it just wanted us gone.

"Come, my loyal subjects, we're not wanted here, and we have our wives and children we must return to, with glorious tales of our victories to be told! Those who would leave my service have had their reward, and now we shall go in peace."

I gave an internal sigh of relief as we left the glade and eventually the forest behind. There had been five more deaths. Three from bullet wounds, two from… lingering pain before they could be saved. They would rise again through my minions' powers, though what as, I was not sure. Surely more than one kobold, I chuckled to myself.

Behind me, as I watched my people filter out, I saw the forest change. It became darker, more defined, thicker. Eyes danced in the moonlight, and I smelled the musk of animals ready, willing and able to kill humans like humans killed chickens or slaughtered pigs. Wargs? Dire wolves? Oh yes, this forest would be fun…

I bowed my head once the last of my forces had left and headed back to the mall, to head home. "You're welcome, forest. I shall return, and we shall… negotiate."

Any negotiation would be with the tip of a spear, the shaft of an arrow, or the swing of a claw or bite of a fang, but that's how I liked it.

***

 

[turbofluffysnek]

The Weave


I would have to stay in Stokerville for a while. Without my presence here, who knew what power vacuum would arrive to take over and make my life difficult? No, I was going to have to be here until this city was mine, and I was going to have to move quickly whilst doing it, and not only because I was in danger of getting extremely hungry but because the longer the city went without some force, the faster that situation would be remedied by another set of would-be kings.

"Sarge, I want you to take a force back to the base," I said, as we secured the mall again. As if I didn't have enough issues, even after I had pacified and claimed the city, I would have to be on guard, and that meant my forces would have to improve and fast.

"Uhh, sir?" he asked, straightening up. He still wasn't used to having somebody to report to. I chuckled. I wasn't ready for the station either, but there wasn't anybody else I could trust. Besides, I had the easy job — tell everyone else more competent what to do and have them sort out the how.

"I want you to keep everyone back there safe until I return with the rest of our forces, which means I want you to teach your guys how to fight with the kobolds, goblins and so on, and vice-versa. Both magic and modern weapons are force multipliers we need to capitalize on, so take five humans, let's say three goblins, five kobolds — maybe that bear-riding group — and get it done. And take Vengis to make sure you can talk to them all."

"I can do that," Sarge answered, picking at his ear with a finger thoughtfully. I could see the flicker of annoyance over being told to keep his previous clubhouse safe until its new owner arrived, but it was tempered with… pride?

"Thank you, Sarge. I'm proud of you. Of all of us. Take the dead too, see if the kobolds can get them returned to us. That's the other reason I need you to go, because they deserve a second chance if at all possible. If you need anything from Stokerville, then take it, this city will be mine, and I will not shirk my duty to my people. Take Dog too, if he wants to go with you. If he has completed his little mission, he'll have his friend and freedom back. Infact," I paused, then stood up, half-spreading my wings and looking around from several feet higher up.

"Dog!" I called, waiting for the man to appear, and appear he did. "Do you have your diamonds?"

"I… I do," he said, his voice gravelly from disuse.

"Then upon the revival of your friend, you are once more a man, a full member of my forces. You may travel with Sarge here, get Matron and her kobolds to raise him at their leisure."

"Th-thank you, sir, a-and… I understand. What happened. A-and what you had to do."

I looked at him carefully. I saw he had been thinking, and maybe had understood.

"Then understand this too," I told him. "If you are successful, then your friend will not be subordinate to my will at first. He need not be until I return, but should I find he has sowed discord or otherwise has been plotting against me? Then a second death is not something he will return from, and you will join him. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, sir," Dog answered. I nodded, pleased.

"Then go, Dog, you have done well."

***

Dog kneeled before Matron. What was left of the skull of his… best friend was upon a dais, and the kobold priestess and her sisters were arrayed around it, chanting and gesturing. Dog could feel the power building in the cave, it prickled the hairs on the back of his neck. He needed his friend back. It hurt, every day, without him.

Whispers echoed throughout, snatches of conversation, accusations, cries, gasps… they grew louder as the veil between the living and the dead was drawn aside, more urgent. Promises were made, offers tendered. Dog didn't listen, he had been told not to listen, but it was hard.

Finally, though, Matron spoke. She spoke Draconic, but Dog had learned enough to understand.

"Now, Dog, make the offering!"

"I have it," he answered, "I have all of it!"

He had brought forth the box filled to the brim with the gold and jewels he had procured, as he'd been told. He put it where indicated, next to the skull. As he opened it though, Matron gave out a cry.

"Where is the diamond?" she gasped, digging through the box. Turning to her 'sisters', she shrieked, "keep chanting! Keep the spell going!"

"Diamond? There's diamonds in there! Gold, jewels, all of it's got to be worth enough! It's everything there was!" Dog was hyperventilating. He'd gotten what he was told! He had!

Matron swore. "I said diamond, a diamond! Singular! Our spells have thus always been done with… we must try. I have promised my lord I would perform the spell for you, and so I shall! Sisters! Weave your magics! Dog, if ever you have felt something for your friend… let it be known now!"

Dog felt the pit of his stomach drop through the floor. "It's… I didn't… I did… I got what I was told! I did it! I did everything! Do you hear me? I DID EVERYTHING! GIVE HIM BACK TO ME!" he yelled, slamming his fists onto the dais. "I can't live without him," he whispered, to himself, falling to his knees. Suddenly, there was perfect silence in the cave. Dog blinked, looking around. Where was… everyone?

"Hello?" he called aloud, turning around. As he turned back, he saw a figure reclining on the dais that hadn't been there a moment before. It was a she, he was pretty sure of that, but even from moment to moment, he couldn't tell whether she was blonde, brunette, black-haired, a redhead... The more he tried to see her, the less she made sense.

"Well hello there, Owen Russel," the figure said. Her voice was smooth as silk, and as hard to see as her features were, the little smirk she wore was plain as day, even in the shadows of the cave. The torches all around were dim, flickering blue in a breeze that he couldn't feel.

"Er, hi," he said. "I, er, I don't know you can call me that." He shivered.

"Oh, I'm sure I'm allowed to. After all, it's important for what we have to do. Your name matters, after all."

"And what is it that we're doing?"

"Bargaining, my dear Owen. You want your friend back, hmm?"

"YES!" Owen cried out.

"Well, what can you give me in return? I can do many things, but there must be a trade, a balancing."

"Anything! Everything! Everything… that I can, anyway." Owen swallowed hard, thinking hard. He had promised himself to the dragon, and not only couldn't go back on that, but wasn't sure he would, since the dragon had given him the chance to do what had been promised. It didn't matter that the dragon put him in this position.

The figure smiled dangerously. "Oh you should be very, very careful when saying something like that, little human, the world is no longer safe for such things."

"I-I-I have jewels! Gold, diamonds, precious stones… I was… I was told to get jewelry! I wasn't told to get a diamond! I wasn't… please! I was told it would be enough! I don't know what else… I don't have…" Owen slumped, gritting his teeth to hold back tears.

"Hush, hush. I cannot give you precisely what you want, after all you don't have what is required or I wouldn't be here, but maybe there is some middle ground, if you are willing to compromise?"

At the figure's words, Dog felt the yawning pit in his stomach open wide, but the horrible, terrible feeling was tempered with… hope. "Tell me!"

"I require something from you, Owen Russel. I require your service."

"I… but… I belong to the dragon. A-as will Mason. Mason can't… if he can't… the dragon can't be bargained with for my life or his, not like that!"

"Ah, I don't require your life, I just require your soul. Half of it, let's say."

Owen recoiled. "My soul!?"

"Relax, I swear, it is nothing like you imagine. There is no punishment, no eternal damnation, no… fire and brimstone are the words you would use?"

"You're not going to torture my soul for eternity?"

The figure threw back her head and laughed. "No! No, no such thing, little human. I give you my word, little would-be worshiper, you will not find your essence devoured, or destroyed, or even harmed in any way by tying yourself to me, you will only gain, whilst you live, and… perhaps after. I just require your worship. Yours, and Mason's. And in return, I will not only return you whence you came, but your friend will be allowed to return with you, in a fashion, and you both will be granted a boon."

"In a fashion?" Owen asked, cautious.

"I have said he cannot be brought back to life as he was, but still, he can be brought back, so long as he pledges himself to me also."

Owen thought for a moment. His friend could truly die, pass on, and everything Owen went through would be for nothing, or he could take a chance. This creature, was she a god? He didn't know. Maybe she was, maybe she was just becoming one, but he felt that he could trust her, mostly.

"Well I'm in! I will pledge what I can to you. If you can bring him back, then I'll worship the ground you walk on. Have you… seen him? Spoken to him? Where is he?"

"He is right here, where else would he be? And believe me, Owen Russel, that he too agrees."

Owen watched as the strangely shifting figure turned and picked up a skull, but as she extended it to him, he saw it shrink and change, the curves of the broken hemispheres becoming more angular, the white fading to translucency, until by the time he took it from the figure's fingers, it was… a jewel. Yellow, rough but flawless. As he looked up to thank the strange figure, he almost fell back instead, as he stumbled. The world had changed again, and he was back in the well-populated cave, only the box of jewels was gone and he was still holding the rough, uncut gem.

The silence was deafening, as the collective snouts of every single kobold in the room fell open to the floor.

"I… I think I… I think we did it," said Owen. He looked down at the gem in his hand, and suddenly he knew they had done it. There was a flash of yellow light; the gem was suddenly clear as diamond, but out of it flew an undulating ball of energy that fell onto the floor and stretched and morphed and solidified until there was a gigantic lizard sitting there on all fours. "Uhh… Mason?"

"Ye-eesss," the lizard hissed, uneasily, as if he hadn't spoken aloud for a while, which was more than a little true. "I… think so?"

"You're a lizard, Harry?" Owen exclaimed, breathless.

***

Harry Mason floated in the blackness. It was peaceful, at least. That damned dragon had… done something. He'd been… somewhere? Else? And then the dragon had come, and he'd found himself dragged back to a world he thought was lost to him.

Of course, he'd not been interested in talking to the monster that tore him apart and ate his still-twitching guts, but then he'd been offered to come back because of Owen. For Owen. And dammit, he couldn't say no, not for Owen. So then he had waited, here in no place for no amount of time, an eternity alone, until She had come.

She was obviously a goddess, or if not a goddess then something practically the same. She'd offered him to return to life, of a sort she had said, in return for… what? Singing her praises? Mason could do that, sure. Letting him see Owen again? Who wouldn't take that deal?

He'd thought nothing of it, but then… she had Touched him. This creature was ineffable. She was so far beyond him in a way that he was beyond an ant. Further, even. He was a microbe. An amoeba. She terrified him, but she was at least honest, if 'honest' was the right word for it.

He was dead, that was clear. There was a spell to bring him back, but it had been somewhat bungled, through no fault of his, of Owen's, or even of that dragon or his Matronly minions. But The Lady, she could intervene all the same. Mostly.

He would not have a body, as such. He would instead have many bodies and no body. He would be what he wanted to be, what he was called to be, at the beck and call, in fact, of his other half, Owen, joined more than at the hip, joined in heart and mind.

The world spun, and Mason looked up at Owen as his friend picked him up. He flicked his tongue, chuckling as Owen swore and spat.

"Knock it off!" Owen complained.

"Hss hss hss, nice to ssssee you too, mate." Mason looked over at the kobolds who were crowding around the pair. "Ssss, he's mine, you can't have him."

"We do not… want him, little Mason, not… that way. At least I do not. What I want to know is what you are. Owen, may I see the jewel?"

"Umm, I guess? Can you be careful with it? I think it's… I think it's Mason's."

"I do not think you need worry about it being destroyed, Owen. This is… this is a soul gem." Matron reverently took the now-clear diamond from Owen and ran a few identification spells over it. "You are… linked with this! You are linked now, irrevocably, to the weave itself."

"I, what, I'm a wizard?" Owen asked. Matron shook her head.

"No, not a wizard. I am not sure what you are. You are no wizard, not with the way you wield this gem. No, you have been given your power, and the ways you will learn to use it are entirely your own. You are mayhaps a witch, or a sorcerer. I would not say 'warlock', your familiar is no daemon, for all he can talk."

"Familiar?" Owen asked. Mason echoed the sentiment. Matron chuckled, a throaty hiss.

"Indeed! Familiar! Companion! Joined, you two are, like husband and wife, your very souls entwined. Mason, you are an extension of Owen. Owen, Mason is your other half. This gem cannot be destroyed because it is the home of your soul, Mason, when you have not been called forth to this mortal realm."

"So… Mason's alive? It really is him?"

"Fuck you too, mate," swore the lizard, snapping at the human.

"As alive as you are, Owen. He may not be… human, any longer, but he is here. And I think he looks pretty cute."

"Claws off me or you lose them!" Mason hissed, scrabbling at the kobold as she teased him.

"Yes, yes, I will leave you to your master. Owen," Matron turned to the newly renamed human, "we will teach you what we can, but as you are not the same wielder of the arts as myself or my convent, you will have to search elsewhere for formal training, should our advice not suit you."

"I can do magic?"

"He's supposed to be my master?"

"That's what you're worried about?" Owen snorted. "Not the whole… lizard thing?"

"I can be anything I want… sort of. Hmm. Small, for now, and apparently not a human or humanoid. I can tell, I can feel it. Only animals."

"I think this world no longer needs or wants humans," Owen said, chuckling, laughter bubbling up for the first time in a long time. "We're gonna be an endangered species, if we're not already."

"I'm not sure you can count yourself in that group any more, mate," hissed Mason, as he leaped into the air and faded back into a golden ball of light, then returned to the gem. "After all, how many humans can do shit like this?"

"I… hey! Where'd you go?"

"Let him rest, Owen," said Matron. "We will help you with crafting your staff, and teaching you to take your first steps into the Arts. The first human from this world I have heard of to do so."

"A staff?"

"Of course, where else are you going to set that gem?"

Owen looked down at the yellow-hued diamond in his grasp. "Huh, I guess a staff for it isn't such a bad idea? Feels right, at least."

"See, you are learning already."

***

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Destinations


"So you're… a bear?" asked Gullins, apropos of nothing. The truck had been moving for a while now, and enough boredom had been set in to want to dispel it.

"What tipped you off?" replied Bear, opening one eye.

"And you don't mind, uh…" Gullins pointed to… all of Bear. Bear chuckled as he rolled over slightly to make talking to the man easier. His attendant kobolds squawked and adjusted their ministrations.

"Ya know I did? At first I thought I was just a bear, but I'm not. I'm a bear-kin, and these little dudes? They know it. I know it. Frankie knows it. You should ask Frankie if he minds being a little lizard dude."

Gullins sat quietly for a while, just letting the jostling of the van move him around, before he spoke again. "I dunno how I'd take it."

"Beats the alternative," Bear replied in his gravelly voice. "Hey Vengis, you gonna tell him what being a bear-kin is all about?"

Vengis opened his eyes and let his trademarked wide smile split his muzzle. The panther-kin had had his eyes closed, dozing, but he'd been listening, his ears twitching.

"Long, long ago, when the gods walked upon the earth," he started, but was swiftly interrupted.

"You called your world Earth too?"

"No, no, the earth, the ground. When the gods walked among the mortals… You called your planet Dirt?" Vengis chuckled his purring laugh.

"Kind of?" Gullins stuck a finger in his ear and then flicked the result to a dusty corner of the truck's flatbed.

"Huh." Vengis blinked for a second, then shrugged and continued. "When the gods walked upon the earth, they made all the seas and skies, the mountains, the plants and the animals. When the gods made all the races of Man, the beasts cried out as one that Man was too great, too powerful, too like the gods. The gods heard these pleas and understood, and so they raised the Kin to be like Man, charged to keep the beasts safe from Man, such that no one child of the gods would have whole dominion over another. That's the short version."

"It leaves out a lot," Bear rumbled. "There's the dragons in there, the elves, the fey beasts… I got the longer story."

"So you're… a talking bear?" Gullins tried again.

"You're really hung up on that, aren'tcha?" chuckled Bear. "I dunno, but bear-kin are more Bear than Kin. Panther-kin like Vengis, they're more Kin than Panther, know what I mean? But it's all good." Bear scratched himself lazily, stretching.

Gullins watched, snorting, as the small army of kobolds brushed Bear's fur, trimmed his nails, checked his wounds and adjusted his harness, and fed him choice morsels of food.

"So you like being a…?" Gullins waved his hand, and his voice dropped off.

"A pet? You can say it, Gully, I won't bite." Bear laughed. "I'm not a pet, I just get special treatment!" Bear rolled onto his back so the kobolds could start brushing his belly fur. He closed his eyes in bliss, then opened one again, "and let's face it, you're jealous as shit right now. Think about it. When you get your sorry butt ready to fight, you gotta get your own guns, your own armor, your own pack. These little dudes? I'm their bear, they're my little dudes. Frankie! Tell Gully what's up!"

"He's totally my pet bear," said Frankie, dodging as Bear swiped at him.

"Fucker! You're all just jealous as shit cos I get a spa day after every battle." Bear was silent for a moment, listening as the kobolds chittered about him to each other. "I was never like this before," he added, voice softer, gaze far away. "I'd brush my hair, brush my teeth, ya know, the usual. Change underwear whenever. Now? Well for starters I haven't found any underwear worth wearing and the weird thing is it doesn't bother me. Having my fur brushed? It's nice, dude! I don't give a shit what pissants like you might think, I got my little lizard dudes and they respect me. They treat me nice because of what I can do for them, not what I am. What I am helps, but if I was just a normal bear or something? I know things would be different."

"Dunno if I could take it, Bear."

"Trust me, the hardest bit about this is not getting any pussy. I'm a fucking bear dude! All I got to look forward to is the faint hope we find some sexy lady bear-kin who don't already have a sugar-daddy, or… Earth bears, and I ain't going near that until I'm really desperate. At least Frankie here can get some tail whenever he wants, right Frankie?"

"You know I'm still sore about Dierdre, Bear!" Frankie complained.

"Well ask her nice, show her your moves!"

"You ask her nice!"

"Dunno man, mixing it up with your ex? Quickest way to get one of us a knuckle sandwich."

Gullins looked between the bear and the lizard as the pair started punching, or at least Frankie started punching and Bear just laughed and took it, and shook his head. "Fuck, and I thought my love-life was fucked up."

"Just get shot in the head, maybe it'll work out better for ya," said Bear, laughing again, between bouts of fending off the angry kobold who was trying to bite his paws. "Might come out worse though. Gobbo's seem to have plenty of fun. These kobolds are bitey little shits, but you gotta love 'em. Dunno if I got the worst of it, but I'm doin' alright."

Vengis' trademark grin grew even more sly. "The gods made it so that any one Kin parent would have Kin offspring, my friend, so do not despair too much."

"I'll stick to Rosie Palm and her… does she still have five friends?" Bear looked at his paw contemplatively.

"I really, really did not want to know about that, Bear," complained Frankie, whilst Bear laughed more. Gullins couldn't help but chuckle.

"Alright, Bear, I know that's you now, if ever there was any doubt."

"I know I'm your type, but you're still not mine, Gully," said Bear, flinching and chuckling as the man threw a first-aid box at him.

***

Simon opened his eyes, his brain not quite firing on all cylinders. It was dark in the warren, dark and warm. It had taken him some time — days? — to get used to sleeping like the kobolds did, huddled together in a comfortable pile, but as he was warm-blooded he didn't wont for tails to use as a pillow, and was too warm if anything even without a comforter.

Why was he being woken? He didn't know what the time was, but he did know he was supposed to be sleeping; all of the kobolds arranged on, around and under him told him that.

"Come! Fazli sends to fetch," said a quite little voice.

"Jig?" Simon yawned, peering into the darkness.

"Yes, yes! Little brother get right! Come, Fazli says to come!"

"Ugh, fine," replied Simon, getting up as carefully as he could. He'd learned to be careful because not being careful got him bit and scratched. He was, grudgingly, learning that maybe it was better when the people you were trying to bully weren't allowed to bully you right back. He still couldn't properly defend himself and he still didn't understand why. When he tried to hit or kick or even bite, he locked up, and yet when he shouldered these lizards aside, they could slap him with their tails or slice at him with their claws… he shook himself.

"What is it?"

"Come!"

Simon did as he was asked, because he also knew that if he didn't, Fazli herself would come and quite literally drag him.

"Wait, Jig, I can't see in the dark. Help me."

"Jig help little brother, come come!"

Simon held onto the proffered tail — kobolds often led each other around by the tail — as he was dragged deeper into the den. The guards barely looked at him as he passed them, they saw him as just another kobold these days, and suddenly he was into the part of the warren where he'd never been before. It was warmer still, here, and closer. The air wasn't bad, as such, but it was thick with the scent of kobolds. There was a thrumming in the air, and a quiet murmur of chirping.

"What, where are…?" he stopped dead as he realized where he was. The egg chamber. The very heart of the kobold warren, and the eggs were hatching. Softly, kobolds, both male and female, prowled around, helping their siblings or offspring into the real world, not that any of those present would know or care which was which.

"S'mon help, wash off stuck eggshells so the little ones do not hurt themselves!"

"Me?" Simon protested, as Fazli pushed him forwards. He didn't know if… if he should.

"Yes! Help with siblings!" Fazli stepped carefully past him and then picked up a squalling youngster, still wearing a part of her eggshell like a sticky, stuck hat. "Lick! Yolk dries, shell gets stuck. Hatchling will hurt self if not freed." So saying, Fazli licked at the join between the eggshell and the youngster, helping to loosen where a part of the sack was stuck to the hatchling's head. Fazli broke a part off, gently.

"I'll, uh, do this instead." Simon spat into his hand, then gently worked the wetness into the area. Gingerly, he pulled at the shell, fighting with the tail and legs and claws of the creature until it came loose, and he suddenly found himself looking into soft purple eyes. "H-hey there, uh, little sister," he said, in halting draconic. The hatchling hiccuped and chirruped a greeting back. "She can talk?"

"Of course! Little one has been learning since she Awakened. Earlier, if she has Returned. Here, catch, break!"

Tucking the hatchling under his arm, Simon caught a thrown half-egg-shell piece. "What?"

"It is yours now, yes?"

"I… yes? It's mine?"

"Good. Break it."

Bending down, brow furrowed as he tried to understand, Simon smashed the egg shell on the ground. Fazli's eyes glittered.

"There now, S'mon hatchling is born, yes? Come, bring little sister hatchling, she will need to eat. Her big brother will need to feed her."

Simon wiped his hand across his eyes. "Y-yes, Fazli," he said, glancing down at the broken egg shell, his broken egg shell, scattered amongst all the others, then trotted to catch up with Fazli, holding the smaller kobold close.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Wings of Change


Sending several squads of my men out to scout the changed city, I decided to do some scouting of my own, alone.

"Scar, are you and your crew about?" I called, sniffing for the kobold. I could smell her even amongst the other beings' scents, but wasn't able to much track her down without doing a bloodhound impression, and that was hardly something I'd want to be caught doing. I'd practice later, it would be a good skill to develop.

"S-sir?" Scar asked, scampering up, clearly out of breath from running.

"Relax, relax, little one, I could just do with some supplies. Do you or your crew have or know where you can get a spare pack? Not all that goes into them will be useful for me, but may be useful for barter or good will."

"Chrrr… I think so, Master!"

I watched as she scampered off, then settled down for the few minutes it took her to return. She came back with a canvas bag, closed tightly with straps. The arm loops were rejigged to be much longer.

"Where did you find this?" I asked, a grin splitting my muzzle as I beheld it.

"Your humans had it, Master. I explained it was for you, and they came up with this. I hope it is big enough. Lower your head… there!" It was awkward, but finally it was cinched tight against the side of my body. "Some first aid, the only gun is, um, a flare gun? There are three other flares, some rations, cooking utensils… I am not sure how useful these will be for you?"

"Me neither, Scar, but it can only be useful if it is with me." I peered at the pack. It was quite small, for a dragon, and was comfortable enough I could forget it was there. Wet-weather gear and trauma blankets? They'd not be very useful for me, but could save a life, and good PR when you're a dragon is worth its weight in gold. The flare gun I'd not even be able to use, it would be far too small, but the three standalone flares? From what I could see I'd just have to rip the top off. I could work with this. It was time to go.

"Thank you, Scar. Thank the humans for me. You're in charge whilst I'm gone, unless you find somebody better. I want you to secure this base of operations, then carefully spread the good word of my arrival to the good citizens of this city. Where you can make them subjects, do so, you are fully empowered to spread my Will. Where you cannot, contain and protect what is already held. Do not engage in mass battles if you can avoid it."

"B-but Master…" Scar paled.

"Be cautious, little Scar, but I believe in you. If you cannot be safe doing more than discovering where I need to step in, then you have done well enough."

"I-I-I will do my best, Master," Scar bowed, and I dismissed her as I turned to look for a place to take off from. A dragon does not walk, after all.

Unwilling to repeat the sheer amount of effort I'd put into climbing it last time, I instead took the long way up to the top of the mall's parking lot, then loped across the roof into the wind, spread my wings, and took off. Flapping hard, I then circled, searching for some thermals. I spiraled higher and higher, higher than I'd ever been before, still flapping my wings to gain height, until I first floored out at least a thousand feet up, and then climbed higher still with the more fierce winds available to me.

This was what I was meant for, I thought to myself as I leveled off once more. This is what being a dragon meant! I was no earth-bound animal, I was a king of the seas and skies! I soared where I chose, hunted where I desired, killed and took trophies where I wished.

For the first time since this had all happened, since that first confused dream where I had awoken, disoriented, in a world and body not as I remembered it, I felt right. I roared, triumphantly, as I banked and rolled through the skies, blasting apart low-hanging clouds. I rose again, powering higher, and after minutes of effort that left my wings burning with effort and lungs heaving, I burst through into sunlight. I was thousands of feet up! Reveling in the view, the feeling, the station, I spread my wings as wide as they would go, and just drifted for a time. I didn't know if I was flying with muscle power alone or with some kind of… magic, inherent in my body, but flying I was, and it was glorious.

Eventually I deigned to drop lower, circling the city as it spread out below me in all its altered glory. A sea of black, white and gray interspersed with great expanses of green and blue, and it was all mine. The seemingly random changes — though all with one core truth, bigger — made an odd kind of sense, though I didn't know how it had been directed. It had to have been partially deliberate, there's no way it would have been so consistently anthropomorphic otherwise, or was it just due to the creatures living in this world? Did their being there change how the world was reshaped? Did they affect how the world reformed itself? Could it be done again? Somebody must know. Parks which before had clearly been nothing more than a couple of hills and some benches were now great rolling swathes of hills and dales, complete with lakes and ponds, rivers meandering through before finally seeing the churches or other buildings they had once been lorded over by, now diminished to being surrounded in turn.

Roads were stretched blacktop, like taffy leading from nowhere to anywhere else, between sudden explosions of buildings like square mushrooms, whole blocks of human habitation all at more or less normal spacing, between great swathes of wilderness. Power was out in most places, I could tell, as the streetlights — none of which looked very healthy, something was just… ineffably 'off' about them — hadn't been lit the previous night, and what traffic lighting there was, was also dark. I could see people, dimly, their motions catching my eye like minnows would to a fisher.

Gunshots and the sound of tires screeching from far below broke me out of my reverie, and I decided now was as good a time as any to get closer to ground level. I banked hard on a long, slow turn that took me over a mile of burning, ruined estates, losing height and trading for speed, before spitting a line of acid at a number of too-expensive cars barrelling down a ruined street, with figures hanging out the window, now shooting pistols at me of all things.

The acid hit them almost dead on after a few seconds of hang-time. The cars crashed and then the screaming started. Only a couple of figures ran very far, with others collapsing as they melted and died. The street, which had moments before had a lot of people milling about on it, was suddenly deserted, though I could feel the eyes watching me. Circling and pumping my wings, I saw some figures dart out to help… oh, no, they weren't helping, they were looting the bodies. And executing anybody left alive.

For a moment I entertained the idea of going down there, but then I realized that would never work. These people didn't want to bargain, not even with each other. They'd taken one look at the deadly creature flying above them and thought their best plan of action was to antagonize it. Intelligence was in short supply, obviously.

Instead, mentally marking the location of this part of the city, I vowed to end their existence most thoroughly at the next available chance. A chance which came almost immediately, as things would have it. I pumped my wings again, trading speed for altitude, and left travelling roughly Northwards.

I swooped out over the central park of Stokerville, once a sports field and popular hang-out spot with trees and a lake, now it was a vast expanse of differing biomes, all smushed up together. There was a lake large enough for very expensive sailboats and deep enough for some very large fish, attached to marshes and swamps that spoke to me somewhere in my heart. There was a sandy desert-like area that may have once been the sports field, if the odd lines in the sandy, rocky terrain was anything to go by, or might have been the gravel-laden path. There were rolling plains and meadows filled with grasses and flowers of all manner, and then some sort of dense, wooded forest, with trees large and tall. I was sure there were more, should I travel far enough, and would have done so were it not for the palisades I saw. I swooped lower still before powering up and around, pumping hard with my wings to bleed speed and change tack.

No gunshots. No arrows. Signs were good that I had finally found some civilization I could parlay with. I backwinged to land, managing to look not entirely like a drunk pelican with a beak full of concrete as I did so, then strode slowly up to the walls.

"Ho, beast! If understand me you can, begone!" said a dwarven guard, perched high above two very heavy gates. He tried to make himself look bigger, it honestly might have worked if I'd been some wild creature.

"My dear dwarf," I said, rattling my spines, "I am afraid I can't do that."

The dwarf gulped and looked left and right at his fellow guards, all of whom took several steps back from where he was standing. Wisely done. Maybe I really could work with these people after all.

"Ahh, ahem, I-I-I would like to know why."

"Because now that I am here, I would dearly wish to see the state of the newest member of my nation-state. I, your visiting monarch, can hardly shirk my duties to my people."

The dwarf was silent for a moment, mouth opening and closing, before he held up one shaking hand and spoke to me. "One moment, sir." He turned, took a deep breath and shouted, "GET THE FUCKING CHIEF OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!"

"You don't need to open the gates," I added, smiling. "Yet. I'll let you know when opening them would be a good idea."

"Ah, y-yes, th-thank you for—"

"You don't need to open them even then, of course, but I would prefer that the less damage my townships receive upon my arrival, the better."

"R-right you are, sir dragon."

"And if that trebuchet you have inside the walls were to accidentally discharge, say in my general direction, I can assure you that the accidental damage would be… significant."

I had to say, being a dragon had its advantages sometimes. The fact that I had to use said advantages to stop them reacting to the fact that I was a dragon in the first place did put a damper on things, but you win some, you lose some.

"Open the fucking gates!" the dwarf hissed to somebody or somebodies below him, "I don't care he hasn't asked us to yet! He'll bloody well go through them if he wants!"

I heard the sounds of some very large pieces of wood being removed from behind said massive wooden gates, and two minotaurs, one per door, pushed them open. I sat down to watch as a number of very harried humanoids made their way up what passed for the main street in this town. The walls weren't entirely solid, but the biggest single point of entry was the gates, and I had seen that every other entry point, from the ground at least, was heavily defended. The houses inside were mostly little more than huts with thatched roofs and no windows, but I was still impressed by what they'd managed.

"Thank you, sir dwarf, for anticipating my request," I said to him. Or her. I wasn't too sure on dwarves in general, it was the beards. Not that I cared.

"Y-you're welcome, sir dragon, ah, here is the, ah, village chief."

"Welcome, welcome, your new king begs some of your precious time for an audience," I said, smiling again, as what appeared to be a centaur packing a staff in a side-slung holster of some kind exited through the gates. He had a very determined look on his face.

"Sir dragon," he began, back straight. I was impressed. "Sir dragon, I do not wish to offend, but… what is it that you wish from us?"

"Nothing," I said, honestly, "and everything. Come, I would take to you in more private fashion." I stood, and walked a little ways away from the walls and the prying ears even now straining to catch every word. The centaur stiffened, but took one shaky step forwards after another. "Come around, face me," I said, peering back over my shoulder, tail towards the village.

"S-sir, I…"

"I give you my word, Centaur, that I will not hurt you so long as you are negotiating in good faith." I lowered my voice so only he could hear, or at least that was my intent. The centaur did eventually trot around to stand in front of me, facing his village.

"I-If you plan to kill me, dragon, make it quick, but spare my village."

I nodded, thoughtfully, which may have been the wrong move to make. I waited patiently for the centaur to be ready to talk again before addressing him.

"I don't plan to kill you, Centaur, not at least if you acquiesce to my terms."

"Terms?"

"As I said, I am your new king. I rule this village and own the land it claims as my own. I claim all of what used to be Stokerville and beyond. The last thing I would want to do is to kill my subjects. Those who aren't my subjects, however? They are fair game."

The centaur was silent for a moment. "I am… uncertain, sir."

I raised one eye-ridge. "Uncertain?"

"What do you get out of it? If you will do nothing more than work us to the bone to line your hoard, sir, I-I-I think I would rather die fighting. I would die, sir, but better a quick death than a lingering one. I-If I may speak so freely, sir, no offense intended."

I chuckled. "And none taken. I value honesty above all else, Centaur. What do I get out of it? I get peace of mind and peace in my time. What you really should be asking is what do you get out of it?" I was silent for a moment. "I have not asked your name."

"M-most dragons do not bother themselves with the names of their lessers, sir," the centaur replied, "but I am Arronus, if it pleases you."

"And if it doesn't? Why, then you are still Arronus. But, my good centaur, you haven't guessed what it is you get out of my offer to you."

"If it pleases you, sir, I was rather expecting that we would get to live."

"That too, but I can do one better. Or much better, I suppose. How many of you are without your Arts? How many of you would practice them? And want them back?"

The centaur's gaze snapped up. "Our Arts?"

"I can give them back, and in return I ask only one thing: serve me. I have three simple rules, and that is to never intentionally harm, nor intentionally allow to come to harm by inaction, another of the my subjects, to follow my edicts 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. All my willing followers are gifted these laws. Those who would stand against me either die, or suffer under a slightly harsher set of laws that place them beneath everyone else, but that is as a matter of course."

Arronus' lips moved as he parsed my laws, not quite believing what I was saying. "You would have us protect ourselves from you?"

"If needed. You will be unable to harm me, but you will also be unable to be coerced into harming another of my people, nor letting corruption take hold, from any source. I need very little from my people save their obedience and occasional assistance. And in return, you will be gifted back your Arts. Take a single citizen of my town and bring him or her forth, if you wish to test me, but be aware, friend Arronus, that rejecting my offer will mean death. I offer you in all fairness the chance to refuse, to fight, and to die, but I would rather see you thrive. I expect the humans lay siege to your homes as often as they can, yes?"

"Y-yes, sir, they do. Their guns are beyond anything I have ever seen before, and without our abilities, although we are strong we are relatively few, and fewer with each loss."

"I want to stop that, because I'm going to need an army if I don't want to be massacring my way across the rest of this city. With your Arts restored, you will be a force to be reckoned with. Along with my men, my kobolds, my goblins and my other various forces, subjugation of this city will be much less bloody."

"Sir, if you can give me back my Arts, I will gladly inform our village of its changed circumstances, and the rest will be more than glad to join you."

"Then, Arronus, do you agree to my laws as stated and intended?"

"I.. I do?"

"So be it."

I felt the power inside him flow into my body, and then flow back out again, stronger, warmer. The staff at his side burst into light and Arronus brought it forth, mouth agape. Lifting it higher, he took a deep breath, then slammed the butt into the ground. From it burst a roiling mass of green tentacles that surrounded the entire village, clambering up the palisades, reinforcing them with thick, vicious brambles that remained even after the glow faded. The very earth shook and rippled, and I saw the plants in the furrows outside the walls quiver and straighten, surging upwards into the sky as they exploded with growth.

"My friends," Arronus said, taking one look at me and waiting for my nod before galloping to the gates, "I have wonderful news."

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Skitter and Scatter


I stepped carefully through the village as I felt the villagers submitting to my rule, and one by one regaining their powers. Again, some threshold was met, and that itch in the back of my mind that told me roughly where my people were blossomed and grew into almost a mental map of my territory, or at least the environs I was currently situated in, with a general feeling of 'that way' for my subjects who were 'out of range'.

More amusingly perhaps, I had a feel for the territory miles around, with a good chunk feeling like 'contested land', but as my subordinates scouting the exploded city of Stokerville brought people in under my wing, and claimed territory where and if they could, more and more of it felt like it belonged to me. It was slow, but I knew that the speed at which I could gain ground would increase, the more minions I had, exponentially. It would also bring its own problems, but I'd burn that bridge when I came to it.

"Arronus, is everyone within the grounds of this village now taken under consideration?"

"Ahh, technically…"

"Word and spirit, Arronus," I chided him. "I can restore your powers, and I demand your obedience, but your faith is your own. If your god has a problem with me, then your way forward is easy. Pick a new one. Is this what you are… cautious about?"

Arronus bowed his head. "My god recognizes dragons," I ignored the unsaid 'even' in his words, "as part of nature's way. All things consume, and are consumed in their time, dragons, in that respect, are no different."

"Most, at least," I chuckled. "Well, tell me what you are holding back."

"There are others who are not yet aware of your presence, or remain apart if they do. They are below this village, sir. We have a… truce with them, of sorts." The centaur shuffled uneasily on his hooves, flicking his tail nervously. I saw his eyes flick over to who I presumed were his wives and children. An easy alliance at best, then.

"Kobolds? Dwarves? Goblins?" I prodded. Only the latter, I would have thought, would have been actually worth fear. The goblins love of horseflesh was legendary amongst my lot, and a hob would've been hard to deal with if roused.

"Spider-kin and driders. They supply us with silk and keep guard at night. We keep watch during the day, feed them what meat we cannot or will not eat."

Giant spiders, and half-spider, half-humanoid? The latter also giant, at least in their spider halves? Oh dear. That could get nasty. "I suppose I must go negotiate with them too. Tell me, is it dark down there?"

"They do not need light, my lord," Arronus answered.

"Neither do I. But they do see? Good, good."

***

The village was divided into roughly four quarters, with one larger quarter for the four-legged centaurs and a number of four-legged beasts. The quarter immediately to the left of the gates was populated almost exclusively by dwarves. To the right was everybody else who didn't live with the centaurs — namely the larger minotaurs seemed to inhabit the 'larger quarter' — and if the gates were at six o'clock, then occupying roughly two to four o'clock was the drider cave entrance along with watchtowers for defense of the village in general.

The cave would be a relatively tight fit, but driders were apparently large enough they desired room to move, so I had no qualms about fitting, at least into the bigger tunnels.

Forcing my way down past aged cocoons and through sticky webs — acid spit cleared that away with no trouble at all — I ventured deeper and deeper. I could hear skittering in the tunnels around me, but for a long while saw nothing. Colors were first muted, this far down in the caves where only the light of scant torches reached, and then non-existent as I passed into what had to be total darkness for most species. Eventually, I found my way to a large cavern, similar to the Great Cavern back at my lair, though this one was far more 'three dimensional', with smaller caves and outcroppings all up and down the walls and even inset into the ceiling.

"Greetings, my new friends. I come to you burdened with glorious purpose," I called, my voice echoing amongst the quiet susurrations of the arachnae-kin that dwelled here. I liked that line and couldn't really help using it. Before the echoes had fully faded, I saw the denizens gathering around me, though they kept their distance.

"A dragon? For what reason does such a creature venture into our domain? Are you offering yourself to us? You would feed our young well, we would not need to hunt for many moons."

A large, spider-like form descended from somewhere above, her human-like upper torso seemingly a steely gray-blue, her giant spider-like lower and rear end black, streaked with red, not that I could tell any colors for sure in the oddly luminous shades of gray left to me, it was pure imagination filling in the gaps. Spinnerets spun out a thick cable-like silk from which she hung, perfectly suspended.

"Quite the opposite, my lady," I answered her, stalking around in a circle as she fixed her cable-like thread to the floor and stood upright before me, taking slow, measured steps with her blade-like spider limbs across the dusty, detritus-laden floor.

"You… expect tribute? From us?"

"Not as such, my lady." I watched her as she stalked around me, her steps making no sound. "Tell me, are you expecting me to be blind in this cave?"

"You are not? Interesting." I could see both her sets of human and spider eyes studying me thoughtfully.

"It may not be bright as day, my lady, but I can see you perfectly well. I come to you with an offer, one you are of course free to refuse." She paused in her stalking. I half-spread my wings and rattled my tail spikes threateningly.

"And what would be the price of refusal?"

"Death."

"So you say. What is the offer? Live under your rule?"

"As you say."

"Forgive me," she said coldly, "if I do not see the benefit."

"Am I to understand that, other than your natural abilities, you are cut off from your Arts?" I asked, voice quiet, barely above a whisper. Still, my words carried to the entirety of the hall. Whispers intensified as their import was understood. "Serve me, in what little ways I require, and you will have them back. Or, and I do stress I would prefer not to have to take such a route, I can kill you all. This world, you see, will be mine, above and below, or at least as far below as my power can reach."

"Hmm, a Conduit? Is that your secret, and the way of this world? Dragon, are you aware? The power of a Conduit can be taken, just like that, drunk, like the juice from a over-ripe fruit."

I sighed. "So you have chosen Death," I said. And I attacked.

***

The drider queen was fast, blazingly so. Faster, dare I say, than I was. I blasted an arc of acid at her, but she dodged, lightning quick, jumping back and landing on the wall. She skittered up it, screeching, as many onlookers were pelted by my blast as I followed her leaping arc. They died, barely able to scream before the acid spray consumed them.

"Kill the dragon!" the queen screamed, and then battle was joined.

Giant spiders rained down upon me, leaping bodily from the walls and ceiling, but they were easily dispatched with broad swipes from my claws, wings and tail. I snapped up more than several mouthfuls as I went, their chitinous exoskeletons a pleasing crunch in my jaws.

More trouble were the driders, almost exclusively male, from what I could see. The females were bigger than the males on average, but the males were still pretty large. Their main disadvantage was that whilst I was living in a target-rich environment, they had to wade through their own people, most swiftly dead or dying, to even get a shot. My biggest disadvantage was that the reach of their weapons was as good as that of my tail, and there were more of them than I had tail to match.

One glaive struck me under my wing, and I howled, rolling away from the pain, only to get another on the other side. I roared, and shook my head side to side as I sprayed acid skywards. Hooking my wings under the glaives, I threw them out, hissing with the pain as they tore free, dark blood running freely down both sides of my body. Crushing one of the two drider males with my hind legs, I tore the other to pieces as I rolled in the acid pools to try to staunch the bleeding, crushing a few more driders and a lot more spiders as I did so.

As I rolled, I felt several wet impacts on my body, finding my movement suddenly severely constricted. They'd webbed me! I struggled, tearing at the sticky bonds just enough to get one claw free, but it wasn't going to be enough, quick enough, to survive.

Giant spiders and driders surrounded me, pushing closer, chittering, eager to end me, before their queen ordered, "STOP! I will be the one to kill him!"

I snarled, snapped and growled as the queen approached. She bent down to me, licking her lips, even as her monstrous lower half opened massive jaws dripping with poison.

"Ahh, dragon, you fought well, it is almost a shame this will be your end."

My one free claw tore at webbing, struggling to move. A sudden pulling at my shoulders led me to glance down, then grab something from the ground.

"Ah, my queen," I said, "I am sorry to disabuse you of this notion. Let me bring some… light to the situation!"

As the drider queen leaned closer, I grabbed three long sticks in my claw, bit the tops and tore. A sudden explosion of harsh, white light blinded everybody. Except me. I'd closed my eyes just in time. In moments there was pandemonium, every creature except for myself crashing into every other, a flailing tornado of legs.

I spat acid over the webs coating my body, struggling to keep the flares upright in the stampede of blinded arachnids, and pulled myself free, before lunging, snapping the spine of the queen's upper body in half, and tearing her apart. Roaring, bellowing animalistically, I threw myself into the resultant massacre until, with half-wailing sobs, the remainder of the once-great drider colony begged me almost as one voice for mercy.

Breathing hard, the flares long since extinguished and my darkvision once more functioning, I dragged my way to the center of the cave, through the viscera and body parts, to stand tall, glaring around at what was left. I'd decimated almost half of their forces, I guessed. The remainder might actually take me down, I judged, if the fight hadn't gone out of them at the death of their queen.

"Let us try this again," I huffed, snarling, faring one wing and gritting my teeth. "Do you swear to follow me? To neither harm, nor allow to come to harm through inaction…"

I gave them the standard three rules, and as one the spider-kin and driders bowed down to me.

"What a waste," I said, as I headed back to the surface. "Tell me, do you have… another queen? Can you make one?"

"My lord, we… can have one of the aranea fulfill that station, if… if as I fear our last female has perished."

"And they are?" I asked, glaring around at the drider that spoke. He was missing a limb, but otherwise whole.

"Aranea, they can take the form of giant spiders," he said, bowing. "They, ah, did not take part in this battle, they are weak by nature, especially in their humanoid forms, which some were."

I lifted one claw, tired, and waved it. "I don't want to know. I don't care. I'm just going to give you this one order now — you cannot breed indiscriminately."

"S-sire?" the male drider replied, blinking, moving uncertainly.

"Look, I'm tired, so I'll only say this once and you'll have to wait until tomorrow for more answers," I said, as I raised my muzzle and sniffed, searching for fresh air, leading the way to the surface. "When I build my world, none of my subjects will be able to harm another. I do not know how many offspring you have at once, the less, the better, sadly, because that means we have longer to get you adjusted, but if you breed indiscriminately, you will not only no longer be culled by passing adventurers, but you will not be able to feed on those self-same adventurers unless they are enemies of my state. If you breed more than you can feed, you will die, first by the thousands, then the tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands. Sooner or later, my eight legged friends, if you expand past your ability to feed your people, you will experience something you have never experienced before, famine. That, or you will threaten to dismantle the fragile ecological web that keeps this world alive, and then I will have to step in and end that threat."

The male drider paused as he kept station at my side, a worried expression on his face. "Too many offspring to feed? But that… but…" he thought long and hard for a good while. "You may be right," he said finally, "but what you speak of, it is… unnatural, to us. It is unknown. Ever have our kind been limited, even at the height of our power."

"Don't worry, my friend," I told him coldly, "you'll get used to it. It'll be easy, because the alternative is death, long and lingering if not by my claw." I paused, and looked at him. "I don't know your people's history, but today we write a new one. My empire will stretch as far as these lands allow, and further still if I have anything to say about it. Your people, under my rule, will thrive. You are not, will not, be slaves, not in any way that matters, but if you are to take that step, be more than beasts, then you need to work within your means. All of my people will. Growth cannot be infinite… unless this world now is. In which case, believe me, I will admit my error and step aside."

***

Kreekzid regarded his new… king, he rolled that word and idea around in his mouth, with thoughtful eyes, as they navigated the passages up to the surface world, a world usually closed off to the drider and their kin, now theirs for the taking, if they wanted it. An empire so large it covered the world, and drider-kind and spider-kin citizens of it? Free to be… whatever they wanted? They had always been slaves, so very rarely able to break away from their drow masters, always having to fight, always despised, always hated. True, they had earned hatred in turn, but now… a new future? Maybe this new king did bring the change he sought.

"I will say this, my friend," the dragon rumbled, as the pair headed to the surface. Kreekzid wasn't sure when he'd agreed, or how he'd agreed, to accompany the king, but that was the way things were now, he guessed.

"Sire?"

"If you or yours feel that you cannot thrive under my wing, there is always the forest. Pinewood, I believe it is called."

"B-but the elves, my lord! They would kill us on sight!"

"They are gone, my friend. The forest is free. I and my people helped liberate the forest, now it governs itself. If you wish to be 'free' within its bounds, you may go, but I will tell you this, you may find wishing for such freedom better than having it."

And with that explosive, cryptic statement, the dragon said nothing more until the pair were back out under the skies.

 

[LillyOfTheSky]

This is churning along interestingly.

A question, if it has not already been asked, what age of Black Dragon is our protagonist? In Pathfinder at least, all dragons eventually, as they age through the categories, become a form of sorcerer, insofar as they have a wide range of spell-like abilities.

Perhaps the story won't last long enough, time-line-wise, to touch on that aspect of dragonhood...

 

[turbofluffysnek]

This is churning along interestingly.

A question, if it has not already been asked, what age of Black Dragon is our protagonist? In Pathfinder at least, all dragons eventually, as they age through the categories, become a form of sorcerer, insofar as they have a wide range of spell-like abilities.

Perhaps the story won't last long enough, time-line-wise, to touch on that aspect of dragonhood...

Click to shrink...

I had two or three options when I started thinking about the story, and they were "start at zero" (i.e. a hatchling, which would make him extremely vulnerable, and a different story entirely with what he could do and who would be doing it), or "start at already-OP" which would be at least adult/mature adult which could mean everything would be a curb stomp or have to ramp up very quickly, or the one I went with, which is nominally a Juvenile, with a CR of 8 (not that I'm really keeping track of numbers, I specifically didn't want to have to have a spreadsheet) and access to his first spell-like ability, which for reasons has been swapped out for darkvision plus some 'gifts' from various gods keeping an eye on things as the Earth settles down into its new form.

Will he get more? He could, yes, though they are more likely to be in general the standard dragon abilities.

For the in-universe explanation and some lore dumping, he's not exactly a pathfinder black dragon, but close enough as makes no real difference. He's also something else, a Conduit, which means that he is tied to the world in a way that monsters from other realities aren't. He has access to magic, but is more of a font of mana for anybody who follows him, giving them back access to their powers.

The Great Tree from the elves is also a Conduit, though it might be more exact to say it's the Pool that is the actual Conduit, and the creatures that control the Pool as the major recipients, which is why the treants from the Forest enact the will of the Forest itself, and said Forest is the actual Power in the region -- in other words the Conduit has been stolen.

The Forest learns through anybody connected to it, which is how it opened the Ways to a section of (probably) Elysium where it learned enough magic to shape the creatures that live within the Forest to its own ends. Most forests don't really want humans, after all.

Other gods or Gods (differentiating by power level only) can grant powers, but it would be a lot harder without going through an already-existing Conduit or becoming one, so expect some shenanigans eventually there too.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Hatchling Nation


"Healers, attend me," I gruffed, as I emerged into sunlight. "Or perhaps, those of you with 'create water' attend me first," I sniffed, giving myself a once-over. I was still covered in giant spider guts, webs and blood. A lot of blood. "I can temporarily relocate outside of the village, if that would be desired."

I did, in the end, walk out of the village to get a good wash. The cold water felt good on my scales as it cleaned the myriad cuts and gashes free from webs, dirt and grit, and parts of giant spiders. I shook myself like a giant dog, and resolved to make sure everywhere I could ever be expected to dwell for any amount of time would have a damned pool I could lounge about in.

Maybe I could repurpose a car wash. And skin the first person who says something smart about a good automatic dragon-brushie machine. I hissed in pleasure as the healing and other restorative spells played over my body, easing the aches and pains, and clearing out what toxins may have made their way past my apparently formidable immune system and constitution.

Closing my eyes, I gathered my thoughts. Hopefully, as my power base grew, I wouldn't have to wholesale slaughter my way through many more potential minions as my reputation would proceed me. Again, hopefully as a force for 'good' in the world, or at least a force for stability. That wouldn't stop the lies and other tall tales being told about the evil black dragon taking over the world, but hopefully it would make things easier, until at least some singular or combined force or forces got together to kill the beast.

Honestly, that was why I had to get stronger, quicker. I had to outrun whatever inevitable wave of patriotism or heroism or some other stupid-ism would drive people to want to kill me, just with more of a force than 'by the one'. I was under no delusions that even if I kept to myself in some dank swamp — and didn't that feel oddly attractive a notion — that there wouldn't be hordes of would-be do-gooders out for my hide every other day. I hoped that if I had at least a whole kingdom to myself, that any forces out to kill me would prefer not to kill the normal humans put between them and me, but then again I was evil, not stupid, I knew plenty of others were more evil than me, determinedly so.

As I relaxed in the sunshine for a short while, pointedly ignoring the villagers hanging around wondering if I actually wanted anything from them, I pondered in the way that only an overly large, death-dealing, acid-spitting, water-breathing, flying lizard can. There was one good thing to be said for all of this weirdness: I was likely functionally the only power in the local area, and once I had Stokerville to myself, I'd be able to consolidate my forces for a good while before anything more pressing would turn up.

How come? Well it was depressingly, dauntingly obvious. Everywhere was around ten times further away from everywhere else than it used to be. Stokerville was as big as the state it sat in had been before all this. That state was now as big as the entirety of the country previous to this. Every other bastion of humanity was now an island, alone in a world that was at least a hundred times the size it had been before, if not more. I had no reason to believe that whatever had happened here hadn't happened the same everywhere. I had no idea what had happened up in whatever passed for space now, but at least the geography of what had been the Earth was something I could comprehend, for all it shook me. What now stood for the United States, for example, would be approximately as wide across as the entirety of the circumference of the old Earth.

No, I was likely alone and unreachable until, hopefully, I could become untouchable. That did provide me a multi-fold buffer: everybody but me would be starting from approximately zero, as I was so far one of the only two powers that had Power, Arts. I didn't know quite what a Conduit was, but I knew what it meant. For everyone else, power stations would fail, some catastrophically, and every system that relied on that power would similarly stall. Millions, billions, of humans that had grown used to taking themselves down to the store to purchase food were going to find themselves going without. Clean, running water straight from the tap would be a thing of the past, along with working plumbing. No wonder the already disadvantaged areas of Stokerville had gone feral. Honestly, the sooner I got this place under control the better.

I peered over at the fields. Arronus, obviously a druid of some sort, had made them bloom and grow in moments. I glanced down at the spider guts, and hoped that some of the spiders, maybe even the driders, though I doubted they'd stay driders, would head for the forest. The forest doubtless wanted driders at least as little as it wanted humans, which was to say not at all. Giant spiders were tasty, farming them could be profitable.

"Arronus, attend me," I called, lifting my head. "Drider, tell me your name."

"Kreekzid," Kreekzid replied, uncurling his legs from where he'd folded them under himself, sitting still as a stone.

"Kreekzid, roughly to the South East of here, there is a part of Stokerville that I want you and your people to pacify." I considered my words, and their import, carefully. I was crossing another line, but that's what they seemed to be there for.

"Pacify?" the drider asked, confused.

"Yes. Bordering this wild expanse, you will find an area of the city that is in poor repair, poorer than the rest. All there who are not my subjects, and none were when I flew over and they tried to kill me, are yours. Kill them, eat them, lay your eggs in them, I care not. I would give you one piece of advice, however: steer clear of the young and the females that look after them. Avoid the males that guard those females and their young. The juveniles? The roving packs of males and females? Cull them, freely. That part of the city is yours, if you wish it, but I warn you, the guns this world's humans are known for are plentiful there. Hunt them carefully. Or don't, I will not order it. I desire it, no more. For that matter, rove further afield if you wish, but the same warnings apply. At some point, you will most likely meet more organized resistance."

Kreekzid blinked. A lot, seeing as he had eight eyes. "You desire it, but you do not order it?"

I shook my head. "I told you, I don't care what you do, I just desire that you do not work against me or mine. And if ever you desired a place above ground of your own, well, it's there for the taking. Take that offer to your new queen, or council, or whatever your people have decided."

"My lord, it will be done." Kreekzid bowed, and backed up.

"There is one more piece of advice I would give; for the alchemists amongst your kind, you may find a lot of," I paused, thinking, "medicinal herbs, powders and potions. I don't know what they might do to you and your kind, but they are a peculiar kind of blight upon this land, for humans. Collect them if you will, but I warn you, some ravage the mind and body, leaving nothing behind. They can be useful as medicines, but in truth they are poison."

"I am no alchemist, my lord, but I am told the difference between poison and cure is in the dosage."

"Be that as it may, whilst some of those concoctions may find a use, others could destroy not only your people but the village above and every other outpost they infect. They are highly addictive, dangerous."

"I understand, my lord."

"Be careful, and good hunting," I told him. Then I rumbled in discontent, my muzzle roving across the skies as I scanned the heavens. "I know I promised more answers, but that may have to wait, I need to check in with the rest of my people. If you or Arronus is familiar with the Pinewood Mall, there you will find my forces. I will inform them of this new development, and my geas protects you from them as much as them from you. Anyone else is yours to deal with as you see fit."

"I-if we can spare the forces to create a line of communication, we will," the centaur said.

"Good, consider yourselves on a war-footing as of now, we are taking control of this city, what's left of it, before the rest of it falls to fire and flames." I replied, before turning to Arronus. "Arronus, do you and yours wish to continue to live here? If there are any who desire to leave for safer lands, I have a lair several hours outside of the city proper, by human transport. It would be days by foot. There you will likely be safer than here, although you would have to start planting again."

Arronus was quiet for a moment, glancing between me and the fields. "You desire this, don't you, sire?"

I nodded, grinning. "I do, but I will not force you to move. With your Arts restored, with my inevitable victory over this city, this place is safe. You will be able, and I will in fact order you, to grow your crops, to hunt, to build. Food and water will soon become the greatest of challenges facing my forces, and I will not see everything I have built fracture because of it. I need you, Arronus, and your abilities. You may have been close to starving before, knowing how hard it must have been to secure food, but now you will have more than you need."

"You speak truth, sir dragon. We have fought for every morsel, and were set to grow what we could, though there were always worries that what scant supplies we had would not last until harvest, and a single blight could have doomed us all. Now though, now my knowledge of nature is once more bolstered by the Arts my circle taught me, as it is for all of us."

"That's why I'm here, Arronus. That's why I'm taking over. I need you to tell me where there are other villages like this one. I need to know more about this city, about the forces you have fought off. I need to know where to secure food animals and other crops before more starve, or before we have to deal with disease and increasingly desperate people. We need to get all the remaining humans in Stokerville working on their survival, before whatever passes for Winter comes to make things even harder on top of dwindling supplies from industry that is effectively dead."

Arronus blew air through his lips, sounding not dissimilar to the horse that formed his lower half. "No small task, sire."

"No, but can you do it?"

"Not all at once. For now, the majority will stay here, though take those of us who we can spare if you need to."

I nodded at him. "One step at a time, as all journeys begin. For my next step, I need to contact my forces, and begin my conquest proper. I will return, Arronus, if not tomorrow, then in a day or two. Can you hold out, now you are empowered?"

"We can, my lord."

"Good. I'll send reinforcements if I can. You'll know who they are, even without my Gift, they'll have kobolds, dwarves and goblins with them. Anybody else? Kill them. All of them." I stood up, stretching one wing after another. The rips and tears received fighting the driders and their kin had been repaired by the healing spells. My muscles were sore, but I put that out of my mind. I turned to move, getting some distance between me and the village. I didn't need to blow dust everywhere, nor damage their crops. "Until then, my friend, farewell."

Unfurling my wings, and stood and stretched, then loped some distance before throwing myself into the skies.

***

 

[turbofluffysnek]

yeah, yeah, the Latin is probably completely wrong. Please enlighten me! Also, don't hesitate to comment or even write your own side stories here if you want, I'm pleased if people are enjoying this.

Domus Dolce


I rested on my wings as I soared through the skies. It had taken effort to get this high, but it had been worth it, and now the pressure was off and I could relax, I felt like I could stay up here all day. I'd never have managed it without the late afternoon whorls and eddies of the upward-drifting thermals, but now I was this high, it was incredibly restful to just lean on my wings and cruise. Idly, I wondered if I could sleep whilst flying.

The city spread out beneath me reached further than I could see, even from this height, but I could see enough to ponder something that had been niggling at my brain ever since I'd realized part of the truth of this new world. There was that bakery I'd get a coffee at every morning on my trip to the office, and there was the terrible yet tasty ramen place I'd eat at when I could… and if I followed the streets correctly, allowing for the differences in distance… there. That had to be it.

Taking one last look around, I gave a deep-throated chuckle of a sigh. Sights like these had to be earned, I guessed, and that meant I had something to do first. Semi-furling my wings, I banked and rolled, dropping down through the air like a particularly well-sized, clawed and armored brick. I took my time going lower, ducking and diving, weaving and twirling, roaring my superiority over this city, my voice echoing from the heavens, until finally I was low enough to backwing for a landing in the same park I'd fled across so long ago.

In a very real way, I thought to myself as my claws made divots in the soft, loamy meadow that had grown from the decently-sized park it had replaced, this was where I began. I remembered my old life, but it was like a dream, seen through a distorted lens. Sizes were wrong, people were wrong, the world was subtly off. This was my reality, several tons of armored muscle that was currently scaring everybody in the vicinity shitless.

I peered down as my claws stepped on something long and thin, some sort of crossbow bolt? They'd shot at me with crossbows, hadn't they? The bolts hadn't penetrated my scales. Maybe the crossbows were weak, maybe the bolts were training bolts without any sort of penetrating power? The elves hadn't had trouble with their bows, but then that made sense; the elves were powerful, for all that their true power had been cut off. Normal humans just didn't have a chance, not against 'higher level' monsters like me. They'd not had so much trouble over smaller ones, but again, all the 'monsters' that day I'd met besides the elves and what may have been a few adventurers from other worlds had been humans, like I'd been, unsure and unsteady in their new forms, their minds still reeling from the changes.

Bullets hadn't hurt me, but those were smaller caliber bullets, weaker. I'd even been shot by shotguns; those had hurt, but less than rock salt on a home intruder. I was pretty sure that a slug round would give me some pause even if buckshot didn't.

I shook my head, and stalked across the melted blacktop. They'd cleaned up most of the blood, and all the bodies. Neat rows of shallow graves were all that marked where a lot of creatures had died, most of them human. I bowed my head to them, silently. Some of them had doubtless been trying to kill me, others I'd not even met, had had nothing to do with, murdered by those same scared, petty little humans. Others still, the majority, had been those petty little humans. Here, in death, all were equal, as they were before me.

I turned to the building I had once called home, and shoved my way through the front doors. My wings hurt as I busted my way through the frame, when had I gotten so big? I'd fit through when I was last here, if only just. Now? It was a real squeeze. If I didn't know I could rip and tear my way through the walls if I had to, I'd feel claustrophobic, trapped even, but there was nothing left that could truly worry me.

The stairwells gave me more trouble, but I was a lithe wyrm and with a decent amount of forcing my way, cracking the foundations and twisting and clawing my way, I got up to the fourth floor, the last one by ripping straight through a wall, but there you go.

The corridors had shrunk. A lot. The walls caved in on either side as I made my way along. Now I knew how sausage meat felt in the sausage machine. How heavy was I now, I wondered, as the floor beneath me creaked and complained, cracking. I'd assumed I was a ton or two, but… now I was revising that upwards. Five? Ten? Surely not more than ten, but I may indeed have hit double digits.

A hole in the wall, covered with a blanket. Huh. Here, in this wreck of a half-burned out building, I found the last thing I'd been expecting: squatters. A woman and two children huddled behind the sofa I'd bought for a case of beer. The mother lifted a handgun with shaking grip, cocking the hammer before grabbing the butt with both hands.

"That won't work on me," I said, as softly as I could. I reflexively dodged incase the gun went off. Somehow, it didn't. "Put the gun down, carefully. Uncock it first, your children are right there."

"Y-you talk!?" she almost shrieked.

"We all talk, lady. At least most of us do. Tell me, what are you doing," I paused, almost blurting out 'in my home'. "What are you doing here?" I asked, finally.

"Th-this is wh-where we live, now," she replied. "My hu-husband will be back soon! He's gone for supplies, when h-he gets back he'll kill you!"

I snorted, amused by the bravado. "He won't. I'm sure he'll be back, but he won't be able to kill me. You know…" I paused. I'd been about to do something stupid. To think this one room would have the only occupants of this building! No, I couldn't take them with me. Not yet, at least. I peered around the room, sniffing deeply. No running water, though I could see some large bottles of the stuff in what used to be my kitchen. I sniffed again, my head whipping around. The woman aimed the gun in my direction again, and I snorted. "Oh put it down woman, if I wanted you dead you'd already be dead, you and your children."

In truth, I could have eaten them, but I wasn't all that hungry right now. The giant spiders I'd eaten earlier had assuaged most of my hunger, so for now I was working on PR. Somewhat. These people were desperate, starving. The kids looked alright for now, though, but I could tell whatever passed for plumbing in this shit-hole no longer worked. I could tell a large number of people had been dumping raw sewage and other waste down the elevator shafts, it stunk to high heaven.

"If you get tired of waiting to die in this hovel, head towards Pinewood Mall. My forces and I have liberated it from the so-called 'Kings' who ran the place. That doesn't mean it's a free-for-all there, because it now belongs to me, and believe me, try robbing me and death would be a blessing… but if ever you desired some form of relief effort to be started, a rebirth of civilization, I am the one to bring it."

The woman lowered the gun, hands shaking as she tried to speak, but I ignored her. She wasn't my people, not yet. She may become so one day, but I couldn't take her, not like this. If I had her pledge herself to my service, I'd doubtless feel obliged to bring her with me to the base. Her and a hundred, maybe a thousand unwanted others. I didn't have room, not yet. I didn't have the supplies, the means. But I would. I promised myself that. No, humans could take care of themselves. They didn't mostly want to kill each other. They might visit many evils and deprivations upon each other, but what they really hated was difference.

I left the way I had so many weeks ago, through the wall of one apartment, gliding down to the street on half-spread wings. As I hit the ground, I turned and roared.

"Hear me, wretched and unwanted! Hear me, you inhumans, I am come to liberate you from the tyranny of mankind, to offer you a new way! Show yourselves to me, come before me, and we shall leave this place for safety. I give you my word that under my protection, you will be safe from their oppression! Come now, or don't. I will come again, but by then, those of you left may no longer count amongst the living."

I paused, turning, looking not only at 'my' building, but at the others next to it. Silence, darkened windows. Was that a flutter of drapes, or was it the wind?

"All of you humans who shelter them, you are welcome too. All of you with kith and kin amongst mankind, be assured you are offered the same protections, the same rights and benefits." I paused again, and took a few deep breaths. "Make your way to the Pinewood Mall if you do not believe—"

"Y-you w-will keep us safe?" called a voice, from several feet up, a second floor window. She was quickly shushed, and pulled back out of sight. That wasn't a human voice, though the language was.

"I swear!" I called out. "I will do my best to keep you all safe! And let it be known, you humans who even now plot, cowering in your hovels! Touch those who leave to come with me, and I will tear these buildings down! I will execute every single last one of you, every man, woman and child, if you harm those who come to me. I will tear these buildings down, brick by brick and destroy everything until not even the memory remains of your passing!"

My roared threat echoed throughout the area. Birds fled, cats and dogs made themselves scarce. Silence reigned. And then… movement. Mice-kin? Rat-kin? Whatever they were, five rodent-kin of some kind let down some sort of rope and scurried down it. Slower were the two children who followed. Children, far taller than the four foot nothing creatures their presumably parents had become. There came a giant snake, forty foot long, sluggish now the day was getting colder. Another set of figures, and another… they came from all the buildings, up from the cellars, down from the rafters, out from all the nooks and crannies they'd been hiding in, and they gathered around me. I nodded, finally, when there was no more movement.

"Hear me! You may think this group is a juicy target, but my threat still remains, humans. We will be leaving now, in peace. When you are ready for peace, make your own way to the Pinewood Mall, that is where I will be making my stand against the sure destruction of mankind. Or you can squat here, waiting for death. A week, a month, a year, five, ten? What you have will not last. I, on the other claw, am rebuilding. Come, when you are ready to see. For now, I'm leaving, in peace. Or with you in pieces!"

It was corny, perhaps, but when a ten ton dragon is telling you not to aggravate it, most sensible people will listen. I gathered the forty foot snake around my own body, he'd never be able to keep up, and whilst I was warm blooded I knew he wasn't, and we left, a procession of beast-kin, goblins, kobolds and more making their way down the middle of the street in the fading light towards the Pinewood Mall.

Sometimes, a dragon does walk.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Axis Mundi


"Scar!" I called joyously as my procession and I finally made it safe to the compound. There had been a few necessary pauses for judicial remediation of insults, but nothing too major. "Come out to meet your new brothers and sisters!"

The little kobold appeared, flanked by a succession of humans as she received reports from some and sent the others off, she'd been busy living up to my request. She looked up, and a smile split her muzzle. A claw moved to the scar that had given her her name, running up and down it tenderly.

"Master!" she cried happily, running towards my voice and throwing herself at my neck. She came face to face with an overly large snake as she wrapped her claws around me. "You have more than brothers and sisters!" she exclaimed.

I chuckled, patting her back. "Indeed, though not all of the newcomers are kobolds, they're all new brothers and sisters regardless. I see you've met Ed?" The snake, Edward, dipped his head shyly, hissing quietly, as he hung onto my body. "We'll see what we can feed you, Ed," I whispered to him. "I know you're hungry, so go ask for some meat, there must be something still in the deep freeze, otherwise we'll find something else."

My new followers crowded around, hushed whispers breaking out as they spied all the other goblins, kobolds, lizard-folk and more moving supplies around and running errands. Gordon Simmons, seeing the huddled masses, sighed as he ran his hand through his thinning hair, breaking away from his own little meeting.

"Where're we supposed to put this lot?" he complained.

"It could've been worse, Simmons," I rumbled, as the newcomers who'd traveled with me spread out as they were beckoned onwards by promises of food and shelter. "I limited myself to the unwanted, the beasts and the monsters. They're small, all the bigger ones have fled, or died. These I'll be taking with me, them and their families, humans too. The rest, the thousands I could've brought with me? We'll have to see what we can do. For those who have shelter, maybe they should stay where they are. The base will be overful in short order if I take too many more, I know."

"Maybe they should stay where they are? There's no maybe about it, sir."

"You're right, you're right," I said, holding one claw up to fend the man off, chuckling, as I shucked the forty foot snake from around my body. "Find the kobolds," I told the creature, "they'll know how to help you."

"I can help Ed," said Scar. "Now you're back, I can—"

"Uh uh uh! You're not shirking your responsibility," I chided Scar, chuckling again as her expression darkened at my wagging claw. "Just because I'm back doesn't mean I want to do all the micro-management."

Scar scowled. "Fine, though I'm taking a short break and you're not going to stop me!"

I laughed again as she and the snake headed off into the complex. "The place looks busy, Simmons," I stated. "Things going well?"

"Well enough. Better than we would've been if we hadn't found a pack of gobbos at the refinery."

"Refinery?"

"Fuel oil. Most heavy machinery runs off diesel, and fuel oil works perfectly well instead most of the time. There's a lot of vehicles around, but they're useless without something to run them on. Priority one is food and water back at the base. We're scavenging a lot, as you know, but that'll run out sooner rather than later, so transport helps with that."

"So we need diesel to get from there to here and back again with what we scrounge up?"

"Yup, and to run whatever farming implements we can, whilst we can. Probs is, everybody else had the same idea. Gobbos had the even better idea of using it to keep themselves fed and protected. Now they work with us, so two birds and all that."

"Good, good. I also have good news. Got a map of the city?"

"Sure thing, boss. They're not to scale, as you know, but they're accurate enough." Simmons whistled, called somebody over, and sent them away. They came back a few minutes later with a rough glossy paper fold-out map from some government place, the kind of previously useless waste of tax-payer funds that angered absolutely everybody and pleased nobody except the do-gooder who used it to justify their salary. "Here you go."

"Right, unfold it, I don't really have thumbs." I waited patiently whilst Simmons did so. "Here, there's a monster village with druids. They're well able to grow crops at an accelerated rate."

"Eh? That's fuckin' great! Maybe we'll be able to make use of the granaries after all! I was worried most of the seeds around here wouldn't be fertile, but with luck those druids of yours will get through that, if they aren't. It's just a pity we won't be able to get the water treatment works going, not without an entire team running a power plant and getting the grid back online. I guess that's for… later. If at all."

"Create water spells will have to suffice if our wells or springs don't," I agreed. "Still, this leads to something else I wanted to ask you." I looked up at the sky. It was long fully dark, and lights were on all over as the emergency generators were fired up. The stars were out as they wove their altered paths above me.

"Shoot, boss," Simmons said, with an upwards nod of his chin.

"Can you… get me another map? Of the world this time?"

"Uhh, sure?" One was produced in short order. A poster from some novelty shop, big enough to put on the wall. "What's this about?"

"You're aware," I asked, a few moments later, after I'd studied the map on the ground before us. "Wait, pick it up, let's get it on a table."

"Boss." The man picked the map up and we moved over to a table that had recently been used as part of a soup kitchen of sorts for the workers using this mall as their base. Simmons cleared a few cups and plates and pans away, then used a few spare pots and the like to keep the corners down instead of the bricks he'd used before. "So, what's this about?"

"We're here, right?" I pointed to a spot on the map. "Roughly, yeah?"

"Uh huh."

"You're aware that the world's flat now? Or appears to be at least. The sun doesn't set, it moves around and around," I twirled a claw. "I don't think light works the way it used to before. The stars aren't right, the planets aren't right, the only way it makes sense is if the world has been… peeled open, like an orange, right?"

"I… agree, more or less."

"Now let's look at the city map for a moment." I waited whilst Simmons unfurled the glossy pamphlet on top of the glossy poster. "North's this way, correct?"

"Uh, yeah, base is here, your monster village is… there, you said?"

"So, have you seen the problem yet?" I asked, trying not to be too smug about it.

"Umm, well, I don't really know," Simmons prevaricated, running his hand through his thinning hair again.

"That's okay, I don't think I would've realized it if I'd still been a human, not at least for a while. Your brain's not wired to think on that scale too easily, and you've got to go against suppositions you've lived with for your whole life. Where is North?"

"Well, at the pole?" he said, confusion written large on his face.

"That's right," I replied, "But where is North?"

"It's, umm… up the map?"

"When the world's a globe, sure," I replied, "but it's not, is it? Not any more. So, point on this map," and I pushed the city map off the world map, "where North is. Is it here? Here? Here?" I pointed to various spots at the 'top' edge of the world map. "North's that way," I said, pointing Northwards, "but that means that North on the map… is exactly here. How handy for us that the North pole is directly where we think North is, huh?"

Simmon's mouth opened and closed like a fish's as he pondered and tried to work out what was being said. "Oh," he said, finally.

"Exactly. The world is flat, but it doesn't look like this. Please, fold the map into four," I asked Simmons. "Vertically, not quarters. Good, now rip it," I said, as he did so. I picked up a sauce bottle and put it on the table. "Put the four pieces around this, that's right, spread them out…"

I saw the exact moment that Simmons understood what he was seeing.

"You have it," I said softly. "There, in the utter North, is quite possibly one of the keys to understanding what has happened to us. The very center of the world. And at the outer edge? Who knows, maybe that impenetrable wall of ice so many people used to believe there was, when we had nothing but the Antarctic. And beyond that? Perhaps another key to what our universe has become. Whatever force it was that reshaped our world ripped it from the heavens, smeared our lands across the face of a flat disc at least ten times the size of Old Earth, and placed the stars, moons, and planets up there in the firmament as echoes of what once was."

I strode around the table, thoughtfully.

"Is the entire universe now in a dome above us? It's the Northern Hemisphere we see from here, but if we go far enough South, do we see what used to be the Southern Cross whirling its way around instead? Can we see it with a powerful enough telescope already? Or do we see something else entirely? See, I think light works differently now, but close enough that radio does function. I think magnets work the same way, which is why I know this is what's been done. It has to be, otherwise North would most likely be… that way." I pointed off about twenty or thirty degrees from where I knew compasses would point. "I know this, because the North Star is still North, and our world when it was pulled apart like taffy broke in the weakest spots, the neatest spots. Roads stretched where the people of one block held themselves apart from their neighbors. Blocks parted where there were the least obstacles holding things together, like sewage pipes and power lines, but for the spaces between? They stretched as far as they could, growing and duplicating. Animals, plants, oxygen, matter itself! Our skies, are they higher? Our seas, are they deeper? Simmons, below us is not mere ground, but another world now, the Underneath, a realm of ancient monsters and great dangers, grown there as if it had always been. Was that why I changed? Was I the weakest link in the human chain? I stretched and grew, in this," I finished, my voice falling off.

Simmons blew air out through his cheeks. "This is big," he said. "I hadn't thought about it. I don't know that anybody has, until now. I mean, somebody must have, but then again most people are too busy not dying, so there ya go."

"As always, Simmons, I have more questions than answers. What is there, beyond the icewall, if there even is such a thing? Are there endless oceans? Other lands? If we travel there, can we return? And what is there, in the utter North? Is there anything there at all, at the site of Axis Mundi? And who, if anybody, is mad enough, brave enough, hardy enough, to cross a distance more than the circumference of the planet, across desert and tundra, to go see a spot where they might find nothing at all?"

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Relaxation and Spa


"I could do with a bath before I turn in… how are we for water, Simmons?" I asked, yawning widely. The last of the bird- and rodent-kin had dispersed to whatever passed for lodgings in this place. I wasn't sure where the kobolds, snake and the few frog-like creatures that I think were called 'grippli' had gone, but I was sure I'd hear about it if they needed something special. There was a mattress store in the mall, because of course there was, and several stores that sold things passing for beds, so we'd appropriated a good deal of the stock of both of these and most everyone who needed one had somewhere they could bed down, at least. I didn't quite know what I was going to do, but I'd gotten used to roughing it, not that I wasn't going to miss my lair tonight.

"We took a look at that earlier, Boss," Simmons replied. "There's a spa in the mall, first thing we did was check the outflow was shut off since there's no pressure on any of the water the intakes either, but we're somewhat in luck that there's an extensive filtration system and we have the power to run it, so as long as we can keep the water relatively clean, we should be able to fill up from those create water spells the beasties have… actually you might be able to help there too.

"Oh?"

"Uh, we'll have to get you cleaned up first, but if you can lower the pH of the water some and kill off any nasties in the water with your acid, you'd be doing us a favor, Boss!"

"Say that again?" I asked the man, turning and looking at him in surprise.

"We, ah, well we have a good deal of cleaning products, but… you breathe acid, right?"

"I… do," I replied, getting an inkling of where this was going.

"Um, I don't know what kind of acid it is, but if you take a quick dip and, ah, breathe it around a bit, once we get the pH of the pool back up again, we should be able to make do without seriously depleting our stocks. A-and without melting anybody."

"So you want me to… swim around in the pool and breathe a little acid in it?"

"Uh huh, but we want to clean you off first, the less dirt we let in, the easier a time we'll have. It'd do wonders for morale, uh, sir."

I laughed. "It will be my pleasure, just so long as I am properly attended to before and after!"

***

There's no real way to look dignified as a gaggle of kobolds run brooms over your body to scrub off entire bottles of high quality car shampoo-and-wax combo soapy detergent in a giant bubble bath, especially not when doing your best attempt at a bird in a giant bird-bath as another set of folks blast you with hoses and pressure washers, so I didn't bother to try.

Cold water had never felt so good, not outside of a hot summer afternoon mucking about in the yard. I caught myself crooning as the stiff bristles got rid of a multitude of sins in the form of blood, guts, grit and the like, it was almost a crime when they stopped. Another item for the list of things I needed back at my lair.

And of course, what's better after a nice shower and scrub up? A dip in the pool.

I slinked into the water, blowing bubbles as I sunk to the bottom. I carefully pulled myself along, squirting just a little spittle of acid here and there as I swam along, under the water, around the carefully sculpted spa pool. It had a few bridges and a main swimming area with a few lagoons breaking off of it. It was really rather nice, but not quite deep enough for a dragon of my size. I could taste the bloom in the water, the chemicals weren't exactly nice, but some part of my draconic heritage scoffed at it as the acid from my body filled it. I knew, if I wanted, if I stayed here long enough, that I could turn this into a fetid acid pool unfit for anybody but me, but that would've been a little bit rude, as would've been sleeping in the pool, which was becoming more and more likely as I grew more and more tired. Sculling my way along some time later, I raised my head.

"Simmons! Is the pool water suitable now?"

"I'll take some samples to check the microbials. We may need you to take another swim or we may need to balance out things once we've run the cleaning cycle, but," he fiddled with some paper samplers, wetting them then flicking them back and forth to dry them of the excess, "yes! That's looking better! I think you'll have killed off all the nasties, for free!"

"You're welcome, human, now wash me off once more, and I shall retire for the night. I'll get the kobolds to find me a mattress I can use for a pillow, they'll fight for the right to otherwise and I'm far too sleepy to put up with stopping it."

***

Sleep came easy, and the feeling of three more kobolds, distantly, rejoining my forces along with two what I was pretty sure weren't orcs — they felt like some sort of beast-kin, but… different — woke me the next morning. I yawned, stretching, not caring really what the time was, and sniffed around for something to eat as I pondered the hows and whys of the reincarnation spell that Matron had a hold on.

Some force — either one of the two god-like beings I'd hallucinated whilst being sacrificed to the tree most likely, though the intriguing possibility lay that it was another — seemed to have a proverbial thumb, or at least claw seeing as dragons didn't have thumbs, on the scales tipping things towards kobold, but that wasn't all. So far I'd picked up humans, various beast-kin — a bear at least — orcs, elves and now two somethings that weren't human, but didn't feel like beast-kin but were definitely on the beast scale in terms of 'flavor'. Were these creatures all somethings that dwelled in my lands? That meant that somewhere I had more orcs to call to my banner, and had a chance at some elves that hopefully didn't want to kill me, unless Brian was a representative of the forest's erstwhile inhabitants.

Oh, what I wouldn't give for some sort of guide book… I was keenly aware of a buzzing pressure behind my ears from the bratty voices that smugly tried once more to offer their services, but I knew anything they dangled in front of me was tainted at best and an outright trap at worst.

"Up you get, gluttons," I rumbled to the kobolds who'd perched themselves on and around me last night as some sort of living, scaly blanket. I noticed they did it to any warm-blooded creature big enough to get their attention, though to be fair that's how they slept anyway. Many of the humans from Sarge's contingent that didn't outright demand their own space had long since given up trying to stop them from doing it, because once you let one kobold 'lean on you for warmth', you had five or more jostling for prime positioning, and either gave up or got shouty, and with the amount of hard work everyone was putting in, sleep was something you didn't have the energy to fight about, so a bundle of kobolds under the blankets kept you warmer as well, and they made very good alarms for anybody sneaking about with their sharp hearing, smell and night vision.

I passed the communal showers, where again I noticed the tendency of kobolds to 'adopt' various humans into their fighting packs by awkwardly trying to scrub backs the way they did for each other — again, sometimes the human gave up and it worked — and instead went to see if anything was edible and in enough portions that I could properly eat without depleting our resources.

I did notice a number of rather… interesting cut-price options including kibble-and-dogfood stew that both the goblins and kobolds freaking loved. Actually it was making my mouth water too… sod it, mine. I sat and watched, tail lashing, as an extra large cauldron — no idea where they'd found it — was made up in front of me, before tearing into it and asking for another. Who knew there could be so much variety in dogfood and kibble stew? I'd have to start collecting favorite recipes and shopping around for brands. It was like stew with croutons, if you squinted at it enough.

Despite wanting to tear the limbs off anybody foolish enough to touch my food, I did manage to allow myself to portion out some of the first and second helpings to various attendants. Inevitably, some arguments were headed off about who got to eat from my 'bowl' via the solution of my just eating some from every available pot and making all of them 'mine'.

Dragons can belch with satisfaction, I learned, and also that I should watch it near humans when full of kibble-and-dogfood stew. Whelp, waste not, want not. I'd need to get back into expanding my empire soon enough, but perhaps I'd earned the morning off.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

New Digs, First Steps


Dave opened his eyes, he was… back? He was alive? He snorted, snuffling, struggling to move, to stand, to… his clay prison all but exploded from his thrashing, and he blinked with new eyes in the dim light of the cave, the same cave he'd seen the others come back to life in before, as he rolled in the dust and dirt.

He sniffed, he could smell… he mentally recoiled at the message his brain gave him, he could smell a pack-mate. Groaning, he put his massive paws to his head, falling to the ground. Rolling until he was on his back, he put his paws on his muzzle and tried to block his nose.

That's right, he wasn't human, not any more. That's what the voice had told him, the throaty, feral voice that had come to him after… after he'd been shot. In the darkness. It promised him power, the ability to take revenge, should the chance occur, if the culprit wasn't already dead. Alternatively, he'd have enough strength that another death would be a lot harder, all he had to do was sign on the metaphorical dotted line. He'd taken the offer. But what was he? He didn't know, not quite. A stubby tail, a muzzle, he could feel ears on top of his head, he had very sharp fangs… not a dog, then, not a wolf either? But wolf-like? Maybe he was a werewolf? A 'null'? No, that wasn't right. He shook his head. A gnoll, that was it, he realized, as he heard the word again. And that was what he looked like. He pulled himself to his feet as he peered over at William, Bill, Billy. On some urge he snuffled, stomping closer until he was running his nose over his new pack-mate, who was doing the same back to him.

He stood back for a moment, silently regarding Billy, before letting out a rumbling call. Blood was thicker than water, and this was his blood-brother. Billy answered the call, but both stopped, turning as one, when he heard some goblins approaching.

"We'll take you boys from here, right? Name's Nod," said one of them, stepping forwards. Billy and Dave shared a look.

"Go with you?" Dave rumbled out.

"Whyfor?" Billy rumbled in turn.

"Sure, or do you wanna go back to a house, put on a uniform, pretend you're still a human? You're not, not any more. Same as those three."

The goblin threw a thumb at the other broken jars, out of which had emerged kobolds, who were being helped to their feet by other kobolds. It seemed most people who died became kobolds. Dave wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"So you're the best option for us, huh?" Dave asked.

"Trust me," said Nod, grinning wide, his yellowed teeth prominent. "We gobbos know gnolls. Brothers from another mother, ya know how it is. You wanna learn what you are? It'll be a lot easier with me an' the boys ta show ya."

"And what do we get out of it?" asked Billy, pointing a massive thumbed claw at his furry chest.

"You want more?"

Dave looked down at his paws. He flexed them, then flexed his arm, making a fist. "I can find gobbos whenever I want. I can smell ya, now, I'm sure I could track you anywhere. If I just have questions, I'll know who to ask."

"You don't need answers, boy, you need a pack. That, you'll only find with me and my boys. A pack of two is no pack. We're not gnolls, but you'll find we're close enough."

"And who says you're the right one to lead it?"

Nod grinned as he rolled his shoulders then spun his arms in long, slow punching motions. "Ah, now I see what yer at, boy. You two wanna be one of my dogs. That's alright. I'll show you who's boss."

Dimly Dave realized that all the other occupants of the cave were backing away, but he only had eyes for Nod. Billy would follow Dave, Dave knew that somehow, instinctively, but this little tussle would tell him how things were to go with him, Nod, and the rest of the gobbos. This would be fun.

***

Dave limped along the tunnel, grumbling to himself. It had been fun, after all, but somehow that gobbo had bested him at every turn, losing a tooth and almost losing his manhood for the coup-de-gras as the goblin had put a wickedly sharp dagger way too close to some important bodily parts for the newly reborn gnoll to do anything else but give up. He'd just got his body back, and he really didn't want to lose any parts of it. Especially not those parts!

"I told ya, dog, I know gnolls. Chin up, I know how to get that little tail o' yours waggin'. That's where we're going. You's gotta be hungry, right? Well eatin' right for a gnoll is the first thing you've got to learn. And don't worry about the tooth, we'll pull it out. It'll grow back, you big baby."

"They grow back?" Dave licked at the broken molar, whining.

"They do now, with our shaman's help. Unless you wanna keep it like that, a little reminder?" Nod smirked.

"Hrrf. I wanna bite properly!" Dave swished his tail angrily.

"Then come this way, puppy, we'll get you sorted." Nod laughed as Dave growled.

"I'm no puppy," he grumbled, loping after the goblin. He fell to all fours, stretching his body. It was more comfortable to walk like this, he found.

"Oh yes you are. When you can fight me, and win, then you'll be more than 'puppy', got it? That goes for both of you. And when you can, then you can decide who leads your pack. And you'll have one, by then, if my shamans have anything to say for it." Nod grinned again as he looked over his shoulder at the two gnolls, and showed before him where there were.

"What's this?" Billy asked, sniffing, looking around the cave. It was subtly comfortable looking.

"Had my boys get my new puppies their new playground ready, didn't I?" Dave snarled at the 'puppy' comment, but moved into the space, exploring. Nod ignored the grumbling. "Soon as I realized what you two were, I had this made up. Was gonna be made up anyway, don't get me wrong, but now it's yours. Yours, and everyone else who'll be joining your pack."

Dave snapped his head around at that final sentence. "Everyone else?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, two kinds of puppies are coming your way, lads. One, we've got our rangers on the trail of some wargs, and two… we can maybe get ourselves some more gnolls."

"More gnolls? Get?" Billy tilted his head at the goblin, turning back to look at the green creature suspiciously.

"Aye, puppy. Get. Make." Nod's eyes glittered. "The one that Touched you two, she's still around, I'm sure, and if we ask nicely, some more of those Beasts of the Master might choose another path. Of course, you'll have to whip 'em into shape, think you can do that?"

Billy looked at Dave, and Dave looked right back at Billy. There was a need deep inside them, one that neither of them could deny, for a Pack. They needed a pack. Wargs, whatever they were, would probably fill some of that, but more gnolls, that was a burning flame that both gnolls could agree to.

"Think you two can play nice if Nod gets you some playmates, huh? What do you say?"

Dave fought hard, and lost, to keep his tail from wagging.

***

Owen had his eyes closed, as he had for a while now. His butt was going numb, his legs hurt and he was getting frustrated, but he soldiered on.

"Remember! Don't think, just feel… this one?" asked the high-pitched feminine voice.

"N-no, that doesn't… feel any differen… HEY! What was that!?" he squawked, opening his eyes.

Nalsi chuckled. "I tricked you! First I brought a normal weapon, then I swapped it with this!" The kobold lifted up a wicked curved knife, made from the talon of some great beast. It was inscribed with runes, and looked sharp enough to cut anything.

"A-and that one's magical?" Owen asked, almost afraid to touch it, but dearly wanting to.

"Uh huh. You can sense magic, if you let yourself! I knew it! Now try again to make magic! Look deep inside yourself, keep that feeling in mind, you might see a flame, or a light, or an orb, or… maybe a jewel!"

"The only jewel in here is mine," grumbled Harry, lounging on his back in the sun, flicking his long tongue as he basked. He was currently some sort of monitor lizard — and heh heh, he was monitoring — and had been dutifully watching his… whatever Owen was now, all morning trying to do spell after spell, and it was growing boring.

"Then get out of here you lazy lizard," hissed Owen, chucking his cup at the creature in frustration, only he missed, and the cup shattered on the rock as the lizard ran for it, scuttling out into the desert. "Oh shit! Let me… oops! What the shit was that?"

Owen had jumped up and picked up most of the fragments of the mug, only there'd been a weird pulse of some kind, and then he'd been holding an intact mug, which he'd almost dropped again.

"That was magic!" Nalsi jumped up and down, clapping her claws together. "You did it! Mending!"

"I c-can do that with anything?"

"Not anything, you won't be able to fix big things or really broken things if they're big things, but if you can fix parts? You can keep doing it, though it will take you time!"

Owen looked down at the scrolls he'd been able to read with a little concentration, and took a deep breath before letting it out, putting one hand on his neck and tilting his head to and fro. He'd tried shooting acid or setting things on fire, and sending messages or conjuring arrows, and more, it had been an exhausting morning with initially very little to show for it, up until now.

"Phew, that's… that's enough for today, I think. Even Harry's had enough, and he's always been a lazy shit for laying around in the sun." Owen looked out of the mouth of the cave he was sitting in, but his familiar had vanished into the desert outside, off to… do whatever it was the reborn spirit wanted, he guessed. He stood up and stretched. "How did you know you were a… beast tamer?" he asked Nalsi. "What did you do?"

The kobold gave him a small, sad smile. "I had just started learning about the world from our druids, when our tribe were forced to flee soldiers who wanted to exterminate our warren. Our kind were often persecuted, where we were from. We kobolds are small, all but powerless compared to the 'great heroes' of mankind. We prayed to our gods, and they told us to take our eggs and flee, and that we would be delivered to a new world where we would have… a chance."

"And now you're here?"

"That's right! We found the master, or he found us, after you did. For a long while I thought I would never find my calling, when we were your prisoners."

Owen winced. He'd always treated the creatures they'd captured decently, though he… hadn't thought much of them either, not before being summarily saved by them and the dragon they'd kept chained up in the exercise yard. Nalsi's small, sad smile didn't waver as she continued.

"I fed the rats and birds what scraps I could, made them my friends when I had nothing better to do, and… then the master restored our connection to the gods. So when you challenged us with Smash and Grab? I knew I had to try to save us my way."

Owen winced again, and hung his head. "I, ah, I'm sorry about that. We, ah, we were trying to…" he trailed off, his teeth together and his face in an odd expression.

"You wanted us gone. I understand, and all is forgiven. The master has taken all of us as his children, you humans included. If we had captured you, and we had had the power? I do not think we would have been much kinder." She walked up to him and patted him on the leg. "You do not still wish to kill us, do you?"

Owen shook his head, "no, no I don't. You're our little buddies, I owe my life to some of you guys." He scratched the back of his head and smiled ruefully. "I'm kinda glad the dragon came along, really, I think it's made me a better person. I mean I hated him, I really, really hated him, for killing my Harry, but… but he got him back for me, despite everything. Or I did, but he made me able to… it's complicated. I mean, we captured the dragon, and the dragon fought back. He's a dragon, I'm not sure what I should have expected. I don't know what I expected, really? We all made him act like he was the beast we thought he was. Anyway," Owen shook himself. "I suppose I'll have to just work at it. I wish I could make Harry bigger, though, you know? I wish I could…"

"Owen?" Nalsi asked, glancing up as the human had another weird expression on his face. From studying his face, she turned swiftly to the cave mouth as an echoing whinny of what she recognized to be a horse emanated as if from a great distance. All of a sudden, she heard hoofbeats, echoing oddly before somehow becoming more real as they became louder, and then a fully tacked up horse cantered into the cave. "Oh," the little kobold said, her eyes wide and a smile on her muzzle, "you can summon a mount!"

"Y-you mean that's m-my horse?" Owen regarded the creature. He was a massive black stallion, with red glowing eyes, red highlights in his socks, massive already-shod hooves and a fierce looking demeanor.

"Uh huh, I don't know how long it will remain, but you'll be able to summon it again when you have regained your strength."

"It's, he's, not real?" Owen took gentle hold of the apparent horses bridle, and stroked its head. He could feel the creature's breath, felt its pull as it stomped its hooves. The stallion glared at him, and nipped.

"Real? It's a mana construct, though I have my doubts that it will remain so if continually summoned. Mana is alive, if you ask me."

"He's a mana construct?"

"Mana is… the embodiment of magic. Mana can be made solid, like this, given the facsimile of life, and other true creatures even dwell within it. Like, well…" The kobold nodded towards Harry's jewel, currently clear since Owen's familiar was off on his own adventures.

"So Harry's like this horse?"

Nalsi shook her head, "No! No, didn't you say your god told you she brought Harry back to you?"

"She, it, did, but I… but what if she lied?" Owen couldn't hide the crack in his voice.

Nalsi's brow furrowed. "Gods can lie, but why would she? If she gave you your powers through a promise gained from a lie? That is not how gods work, Owen!" The kobold looked aghast, halfway between scared and angry. "If you ask me? Harry was changed by your god, by her promise to him as much as to you."

There was a small noise at the mouth of the cave, and both Owen and Nalsi turned to see the large lizard trying his best to not be seen.

"I-I-I think I'm real," Harry said, flicking his tongue as his muzzle worked its way around the human words. "I mean, I r-remember dying, I remember—"

His words were cut off as Owen dropped the reins from his summoned horse to run over to the lizard. Owen picked up the creature and pulled him close into a tight hug.

"Yeah, yeah, leave it out! Put me down you dork!" the lizard complained. Harry scrabbled at the man, squirming, but Owen didn't let him go. "Not in public!"

"I lost you once before, I don't care who sees any more! I'm allowed to hold you now! I believe Nalsi's right, Harry, you're too real not be you." Owen lifted the lizard away from his body, holding carefully but tightly under Harry's forelegs. Harry's tongue flicked out again as he twisted. "You're just in a body, what, made of mana now?" Nalsi nodded. "You're back, and I'm never letting you go! You can flick your tongue in my ear as much as you like you shit! Knock it off!" Owen pulled his friend back into a tight hug and the pair started fighting, rolling around. "You're coming with me!" Grunting with effort, Owen hauled himself into the saddle of the horse, still holding the lizard under one arm. Nalsi just watched, laughing.

"Don't go too far! You'll have to walk back when your horse disappears!" she warned, as the mismatched pair trotted out of the cave. Nalsi swore she saw the horse rolling its eyes.

"Yeah! Listen to the bigger lizard, she knows what's up! And you can't ride me!" Harry complained. "I heard you planning!"

"Are you sure you're not just being lazy again, you fat bastard?"

"Fat! I'm not fat!"

"I saw you eat an entire family of mice! Then you slept for the entire afternoon!"

"I was hungry! And I had to catch up with my beauty sleep!"

Nalsi chuckled as the pair disappeared down the mountain, still complaining.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

A Drink and a Hike


Sarge sat down in his chair, behind his desk. His 'office' had never really been used before all this started, but as soon as they'd bugged out and had taken to living in The Base as the increasingly unstable city of Stokerville collapsed into anarchy and otherwise became increasingly hard to navigate, he'd found that the kinds of things he could previously do relaxing at home on his couch now had to be done on what was formerly a canteen chair and a portable camping table. That was very quickly fixed, and now he had found a proper desk and a comfortable chair. He almost felt like some sort of CEO, which in a way he had been, at least before the dragon had taken over.

It had been a long day after returning from that shithole, a long day of catching up with the developments at The Base. He pulled open his desk drawer, and pulled out a bottle of whisky. Finding a clean-enough mug from the small collection, he poured some out and swigged it, before refilling the mug. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, taking another sip. The kobolds had been busy digging and apparently hatching, the goblins had gotten into the repair sheds and were building gloriously wicked machines for improving base defenses and the humans — wasn't that an odd way to think about these forces — had started up schools and farms. The dwarves for their part had been experimenting with forging metal from the ore they'd mined from somewhere deep under the mountains to the East, and it looked like it was producing results.

"Are you still in there?" he asked the empty air. For the last few days, out in the city, the voices that had from time to time whispered to him had been entirely silent. Something had changed, but he wasn't really sure when. Had they been heard since the dragon had gone to Stokerville? No, they'd last been heard before then, before… before the dragon had taken over.

He opened his eyes, and stood up, walking over to the window. "You're gone, aren't you?" he mumbled to himself.

"Sarge?"

Sarge turned to see Sanders wandering into his office, the taller man with a somewhat worried expression on his face at finding his nominal boss talking to himself.

"Can I ask you a question, Sanders? And I don't want you to question it back, nor… just… just don't think I'm going crazy, alright? Have you been hearing voices?"

Sanders scratched the side of his neck. "Uhm, can't say as I have, Sarge. Are you… sure you're alright?"

Sarge sighed long and hard, rubbing his face with his hand. "I told you, don't think I'm crazy. Something happened, Sanders, and I don't mean… well I do mean when this world changed, but… there were voices, Sanders. They were," Sarge took a deep breath, and turned back to the window, "hard to deal with. But they're gone now, ever since that dragon."

"Er, what were they like? What did they say?" Sanders was clearly wondering if something important had snapped. Sarge sighed again.

"They told me things, Sanders, about the world. They offered power, but you know me, I don't trust the government with something as mundane as my money, I'm not going to trust weird voices in my head with something more important."

Sanders looked uncomfortable at that, shifting back and forth on his feet. "What sorts of things?"

"The world's flat, that it would… grow and change, that we could get power if we just gave ourselves to them, you know, worshiped them like gods. I didn't know what it meant at the time, but now I've seen my people brought back from the dead, fireballs thrown like grenades, lightning called down from the sky and more, now I know. But I also know a bad deal when I see one, Sanders, and if they were real — which I now fully believe they were, or more likely are — anything they would give you would come at one hell of a price."

Sanders furrowed his brow. "Umm, can we do anything about them?"

Sarge shook his head. "Nope, most likely that damned lizard did it for us, but if you get a chance to chat with the lads, if you hear anything they won't say in front of me about something like this? Let me know. Anyway," Sarge shook himself, "what did you want?"

"Nothing really. Just came to say, the one they call Matron, her girls got the five of our guys back, but…" Sanders shrugged.

"None of them human. Thought not. Kobolds?"

"Three. Two weren't though, they were apparently something called 'gnolls'. They look like hyenas, if anything. They might just be a name for hyena-kin, like Bear and that Vengis fella. Gobbos took 'em, Sarge."

"Goblins, huh? How're things between our little factions?"

"I wouldn't've believed it, Sarge, but thanks to that dragon, peaceful. The only trouble we've got is with the… the beasts, as the dragon calls 'em, and even then it's just a case of them needing someone to ride herd on 'em."

Sarge narrowed his eyes, peering at the taller man. "That a joke, Sanders?"

"Sir?" Sanders did his best to look innocent.

"Hmm. Carry on."

"Ah, well, it's hard work. They'll do anything they can to get out of chores, gets a bit tiring having to correct them. Apparently… apparently the goblins want a few of them?"

"The goblins do? Whatever for?" Sarge blinked, then shrugged. "No, you know what? The dragon's right, they're more trouble than they're worth. They can have the lot, or at least the ornery ones. How're our 'beasts' doing?"

"They're, uh, well," Sanders winced at how a number of his buddies were still suffering for not wanting to sign up for the dragon's deal. He couldn't really blame them, but there was nothing more he could do. "Some of them heard what the goblins want, and they want in."

Sarge puffed his cheeks out, then downed the rest of the whisky from the mug. "Alright, one condition: soon as they know what's up, I want to know it too." He pointed the two fingers gripped through the handle of the mug at Sanders. "And I want all the updated reports from reconnaissance. We had some intruders in the Dread Forest, right? I want to know the second if there are any more. Send the boys out, can't have all the security down to the gobbos and bolds, can we? Send young O'Malley out, boy needs some sense knocked into him. How did things go with Owen?"

"He's… Owen, again."

"So Mason's back?" Sarge stood up straighter. Back from the dead? Like, just straight up back from the dead, no strings attached? His hopeful expression turned sour when he saw that Sanders was avoiding his gaze.

"Ahhhh, no, not… not as such. I mean he is, but…" Sanders gesticulated sheepishly.

"But?" Sarge raised an eyebrow.

"Owen's a magic user, Sarge. Harry's his familiar."

Sarge swore under his breath, then picked up his coat. "Right, let's go. I have to see this for myself."

"They're out Westwards, in the mountains."

"Then we're getting our patrol on by car, and we're going to go find them. Grab Frankie, grab Bear if you need to, I want a tracker and protection with us. We're losing men by the day, Sanders, how long before we have none left?"

***

"I fucking told you! I fucking told you it wasn't going to last!"

"Oh shut up, Harry, you're heavy enough without having to listen to your bitching. Just keep the sun off my neck!" Owen pinched the lizard's muzzle shut, but flinched his hand back, laughing, when he was scratched at.

"If I'm too heavy I can just zap back my gem!"

"Or you could try to grow wings and go look around, make sure I'm heading back towards the base?"

The lizard looked up into the sky. Well, he could… he shivered. "Ah go climb a fucking mountain."

"I would, you big, fat dumb lizard, if I didn't have such a big, fat dumb lizard on my back!"

"Who're you calling fat?"

"You! You're fat! You weigh almost as much as you did as when you were a human! Oi! Get out of it! Knock it off!" Owen ducked his head and staggered side to side as the lizard bit at his hair and pulled.

"What are we doing out here anyway?" Harry asked, from his perch on Owen's shoulders. They had come down the Eastern mountains and were now below the tree-line. The land had been hilly before all this, with a decent climb, but now there were actual snow-covered peaks up there. This far East the trees looked healthier, not that the Western Dread Forest, or Dead Forest as some called it, actually had unhealthy trees, they mostly just looked… odd.

"I told you, I… have to come here. I'm looking for something."

"And that something is? It can't be safe out here!"

Owen snorted. "I've been hiking around this place since I was fifteen with my pa, before he…" Owen took a breath. "Anyway, ain't nothing here to worry about besides me."

"Man this place is nothing like what you used to hike through when you were fifteen, not any more."

"Still!" Owen strode across the loamy plain, heading for the forest. His fingers itched and he was drawn to them. He was headed roughly in the direction of the patrol route that had been forged through the Eastern part of their territory in the last few weeks. He'd spotted one of the makeshift roads back when he was still on the horse and had headed for it. It'd mean a trek of a few hours to get back, but they were headed in the right direction. Probably.

Suddenly, he paused, almost throwing Harry off his shoulders.

"What?"

"This way!" Owen turned, and walked more confidently in another direction.

"What're you… you're right, I feel it. A pull…"

The pair found themselves following a muddy trail that just opened before them, sliding between bushes and working their way through thickets, until between one step and another, suddenly found themselves at a clearing. The air was rich and vibrant, alive, even the light felt different. It was warmer, but the sunlight seemed friendlier somehow, less harsh, and the sounds of the forest had grown tenfold. Before them was a massive tree, looking like it had dominated the clearing for centuries, as it would for centuries more, and there on a fallen, mossy log, was a lithe female figure, dressed in green.

The tumultuous bird song that had up until that moment been deafening, became silent. Owen and Harry both looked up at the creatures, who were very obviously looking down at them and the woman.

"Hello, my children," she said, pushing her hood back and freeing her long, red hair to tumble down her almost naked, green-skinned back, "I've been waiting for you."

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Apologies, work has been mental this week. I've got about 6000 words written, here's ~900 of them because I got away from myself and wrote things in the wrong order.

First Pack, pt. 1

Gullins watched, sitting awkwardly as he was with his gun on his lap, as the reincarnation ceremony completed. He was keenly aware that it cost something to perform, and he was doubly aware that such a price would only increase as the materials used became more and more scarce, materials that could no longer be so easily created as they could before. At some point, would it become prohibitively expensive? He got the feeling that this sort of thing wasn't usually done so freely, so easily.

The five rude mud pots started rocking in discordant harmony. The first fell over, the unbalanced creations seemingly created that way for that very purpose, followed by two more. Their shattering was like a wordless cry as the reborn souls within crawled back into the light.

Kobolds, three kobolds. Three little lizards now lay where three dead men had been before. Two more shattering rebirths and two more forms emerged, only these two were much, much bigger. Skinnier than they should be, Gullins could see that, but still hulking beasts.

What was the scuttlebutt? This world no longer needed, nor did it favor, humans. He could believe it, especially here and now.

Gullins chewed that snippet around in his mind as a small group of goblins appeared, rushing up to the two floundering wild dog-like creatures. Hyenas? Yeah, they looked like hyenas, with their big ears and stubby little tails. These were still men obviously, standing upright as they could, but they were primarily beast-like, not only in how they looked but also how they acted, as if there was something else inside them now, some other life in their core.

Gullins had spoken to all the returnees he could, the humans, the kobolds, even the bear, and that was the strangest part. They all seemed happy with what had happened, but then that made sense, didn't it? The world didn't want humans, it wanted… whatever these returnees were. Humans it ground down and spat out, and with the dragon in charge, it spat out whatever these hyena-people were. Speaking of, where were the goblins taking the pair? He got up to follow, catching snatches of the conversation up ahead.

Gnolls, huh? Is that what they were?

And then Gullins heard something that had the blood echoing in his ears: they could make more?

***

Dave ran the fight over and over in his head. How had the goblin bested him? The answer was obvious, the goblin knew how to fight dirty, and knew how to fight gnolls better than he knew how to fight as a gnoll. He rumbled in discontent, but he had been bested. He had an… ugh, the remnants of his human sensibilities railed at it, but an alpha. A new pack leader.

Any way Dave looked at it, the goblin had earned it, and was surprisingly keeping up his part of the deal. The cave system spoke to him, somehow. It was a central hub with five spokes off into smaller dwelling areas, the enticing scent of food coming from one of them.

"Food?" he asked, looking down at the goblin.

"Meat, puppy! All the things a growing pup needs."

Dave grumbled at being called a puppy again, but Nod didn't seem to be in the mood to quit doing it. Worse, his treacherous tail wagged as the goblin had more of his goblins bring out an entire cow, neatly — if simply — hacked up into juicy, delicious, nicely proportioned pieces all for him. And Billy.

Dave didn't remember much of the next hour or so, but dimly he recalled… fun. Once he'd gotten stuck into a few larger pieces, the goblins began to taunt and tease, throwing some of the choicier cuts around which led to him snapping and snarling, leaping for them. To his surprise, and no small amount of chagrin, caught them in his muzzle.

"That's right, puppy, eat up properly. You're a gnoll, act like it! The bone, boy, the bone! You need to eat them too!"

Nod teased him, dangerously if Dave had anything to say about it, by waving the half-eaten haunch in front of his face. He found himself playing an impromptu game of tug of war, which Nod happily 'lost'.

Treacherous tail!

When he opened his eyes again, he was sprawled in a comfortable heap with Billy, who was snoring away making ridiculous little hehehe every time he breathed out. Dave didn't want to move, he felt so full, so sated. And he should, between him and Billy, they'd devoured most of a cow in one sitting. Now what was left had been lying on the ground for… he sniffed a few times, hours? It was smelling even more delicious, somehow, when he knew that before it would've been at the very least 'ripe'. Not to mention raw meat would've been a complete no, only slightly above in desirability from the 'ruined', a.k.a. 'well done' style.

Now though? Oh yes, if Nod could keep him fed like this, maybe Nod could do the difficult parts? He stretched, careful not to wake Billy, then wriggled back down into the pile to get some more sleep. As he fell asleep, his only real thought was that Alpha was right, more pack members were needed.

***

 

[Consumer]

What the hell does kinda PF even mean, I don't know this acronym.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

What the hell does kinda PF even mean, I don't know this acronym.

Click to shrink...

PF in this case stands for Pathfinder! The other D&D system that essentially spun off of, well, D&D. Pathfinder 1.0 was often called 'D&D 3.75' since it took the 3.5 rules and ran with them, made them their own, created their own pantheon, worlds, and so on based on the old OGL license.

Pathfinder 2.0 is... I guess it's Paizo's (the company that makes Pathfinder) attempt to do something 5e-like? I haven't had a real chance to play with the PFv2 ruleset so I can't tell you if it's any good. AFAIK reception is generally positive?

Pathfinder allows for a massive amount of customization compared to D&D but at the expense of complexity, so if you like twiddling your characters and budgeting your numbers, you'll probably love it to bits. I have no problem with it, but I will say that I personally have never run a PF game although I love playing them, so there you go.

EDIT: and it's "kinda PF" because, well, no numbers on display, although I am using PF classes/spells/monsters/etc in general.

 

[turbofluffysnek]

Morning in the Wood


Owen stood stock still, blinking. He rocked back and forth as the lizard on his shoulder scurried down his clothes and halfway across the clearing, his lithe body undulating wildly as he scrambled over branches and little mossy hillocks.

"I-i-it's you! You're real! I mean you're here! You… you are here, right? This is real? This is happening?" Owen idly curled his fingers and toes, trying to feel if there was anything amiss. The woman chuckled, looking for all the world like almost any other normal, red-haired slightly elfen woman, albeit green skinned, at least if you didn't look at her eyes. Her eyes glowed with a colour that Owen could neither name nor remember if he looked away for a second.

"I am indeed real, my children. Come, Harry, come to me."

Harry hesitantly scurried closer to the goddess, tongue flicking out every so often as he paused. When he was close enough, she bent down to pick him up. She held him by the sides, under his forepaws, examining him, before laying his body along her arm and sitting back down on the log. "You have done well, my children. You have taken your first steps on a much larger journey, and it is those steps that has allowed me to summon you here."

Owen cleared his throat, then swallowed. "I, uh, are we… where are we?" He too stepped forwards, picking his way carefully amongst the branches and other obstacles hidden deep in the moss, until he was but a few feet from the woman. He could somehow feel her presence, as if she had some sort of static electric field around her that moved him and the world every time she shifted her body.

"I am a goddess, my acolyte. Where you are is where I wish you to be. This tree, this glade, was born a thousand years ago and now exists solely in my grace. None whom I do not wish to may find it, let alone enter it."

"A-acolyte?" Owen stammered out.

"She means you're her priest, mate," said Harry, his tongue flicking out in happiness as the goddess stroked him. He pushed his head up into her palm, eyes closing happily. The goddess tutted indulgently.

"You're not a priest, you're a witch, but you are one of my children, and you did agree to worship me. I am pleased, thus far, in my choice."

"So you are a god? Um, what of? Or are you just, ah, generally a god?" Owen asked, taking his own hesitant steps forward. "I-I'm sorry, I don't really know how this is supposed to work. I, ah, never really did the whole 'church' thing when I was a nipper. Gramma would be very upset with me. Aunt Tia wouldn't, but…"

"I am," the goddess replied. "Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Lady Moirea, Daughter of the Green. My domain is life, nature and the spirits within it, and my will is that they flourish. Were I more versed in Death magic, little Harry here would have his own body once more, but alas, I was unable to save your love from his fate. All I could do, Owen of Russel, was cleave him to you such that you share a soul, and thus his body is what he decides it is, within reason." She tickled Harry's chin, he lashed his tail happily.

"I… don't mean to question you, Moirea, but he is really alive? It is really him?"

"Say that again, mate, and I'll bite you until your bits fall off. 'Course I'm real."

"Calm yourself, my little lizard, I was more open with you than he." Moirea laughed, patting the lizard on her lap. "I had to take hold of your love's spirit, my child, and hold it close to my bosom lest he be lost to eternity. My powers in this world would doubtless be inadequate as yet to have fetched him back should he have strayed much further."

"I don't understand, Moir… uhh, sh-should I just call you Moirea or-or should I call you something else? I d-don't want to offend you. I don't know anything about you, o-other than you saved my friend's life. And you gave me… gifts? I don't know what to call this Magic, Ma'am."

Moirea smiled indulgently as she looked up again from stroking the lizard. "Be calm, first of my children, that is why you're here, after all." She stood up and took a few steps, before putting Harry down. She pushed him gently towards Owen. "Go now, go back to your master and I will properly educate you both."

"I don't like him calling me master," mumbled Owen.

"But master you are, for he is now and forever your familiar, that was his price to pay and he happily paid it," Moirea chided. She rubbed her hands together, then straightened her tunic and flicked her cloak. Harry was silent, but he scurried up Owen's back — Owen cussing all the while as Harry's claws dug in through his shirt — and perched on the man's shoulder.

"Kneel before me, Owen of Russel," she said, gesturing with her left hand. Awkwardly, he did so, kneeling down carefully on the one patch of solid ground he could find.

"I—" he began, but Moirea put a finger to his lips.

"Shh. I speak, you listen. I anoint you now, First of my children," she said, kissing her right hand and touching the top of his head with it. "I name you Owen of the Green. You have done well to cast your first spells. Now take my hand and stand, and then pledge yourself to me and to furthering my aims." She leaned closer, with a smile on her lips, "you may address me as 'my Lady' or 'Goddess' or perhaps 'Lady Moirea', but I find that last one so impersonal."

Owen froze. "What should I say?"

"Let your heart guide you, Acolyte." Moirea smiled, not unkindly.

"You're not like I expected, my Lady," Owen said softly. He cleared his throat. "I, uh, pledge myself to…" He froze, as if slapped. Moirea's smile became slightly sad. She tilted her head to the side.

"This is a good first lesson," she said. "You are not a free man, my acolyte. Magic has rules, and you need to follow them or you will be forced to. You will, however, learn how to navigate them. So instead, I shall give you your tenets to live by."

Owen stood, stretched and took a breath. "It's the dragon, isn't it?" He furrowed his brow, then looked up at the tree behind the goddess. It was full of birds, more came all the time. As Moirea spoke, the birds all focused their attention on him, and the glade became silent.

"That is right, acolyte. You have pledged yourself to his worldly service first, but since you are here, be calm. Know that being in his service does not preclude your being in mine. Otherwise neither of us could be here."

"Then I will, um, try to… do what you require of me, mistress," Owen said, awkwardly.

"Mistress? I like that one. You may use it. Listen, and listen well, Owen of the Green. This world, like many others, is verdant with life. Nature is red in tooth and claw, but this world shall be Green. My will is that life be abundant in this world, and your task is to make sure the Green is strong. Cut down where you must, cultivate where you can, but above all, see that life and things living do not perish from this plane."

He looked down at the moss-covered ground. "I… I promise."

"Good, then to show the rest of the world your status, you will need the tools of your new trade. Take this and work your magic into it. It shall become your staff, the proper place to affix the soul-gem."

Mystified, Owen took a gnarled tree branch that Moirea handed to him, seemingly plucking it from nowhere, blinking at it. "What am I supposed to do…?"

"Mend it, child," Moirea said, as if speaking to an infant.

Owen puzzled over that, but then fished the gem out of the bag he'd put it in and held it in one hand whilst he hefted the would-be staff in the other. The top of the branch had more branches coming from it. Turning the gem around, he found a way that felt right, and it fit snugly between them, but the branches didn't hold the gem at all… until he grasped and twisted and pulled, feeding his magic into the branch itself as he did so, willing the fibers to become whole once more, just as with the cup. With a smile of wonder on his face, he felt them reforming even as the wood split and splintered, until the branches were woven tightly around the gem and each other, the top forming a knot of wood that sealed it in, and the palms of his hands ached with throbbing intensity at the energies that had passed through them.

He looked up as he finished to find Moirea smiling in satisfaction. She took the creation from him, plucked it from his grasp as if he were tissue and it was weightless, and somehow twisted it, and in a moment the rough and rude branch with a gem knotted into the top became firmer, smoother, somehow more real. It grew longer, tougher, and took on the hew of well-worked wood, carved and stained by a master craftsman. With one final flash of power, the gem lit up, glowing gently. Owen swore he saw the branches of it move as if by some unfelt breeze.

"The living staff of Owen the Green, first of my children," said Moirea, as she handed it back to the stunned man. "Now listen, my child. You must spend an hour a day each morning, communing with me. How you do that is up to you, but you will know when it is working and when it is not. I desire your worship through thoughts and deeds, not mere words, and to further that end, I shall give you both a single gift. Listen!"

Moirea gestured, and the birds burst into song. Startled, it took Owen several seconds to realize he could understand them! Most of the songs were about Moirea, their benefactor, but a good deal of them were about mating, nests and eggs.

"When you commune with me, at any time in the day, you will be able to understand and speak to any beast or beastly creature. Harry, you will be able to speak with any creature whose shape you share, at any time. Use these gifts well, my children, for with it, Owen, you must compose your grimoire. You will learn, my child, about the plants and the animals that grow and gambol upon this world, whether they fly, swim, run or slither. You will learn about poisons and potions, poultices and preparations, and you will learn all of these things through intimate study." She leaned closer to Owen, her eyes flashing with mirth, "just how intimate, my child, is up to you. My mother would be more direct about it, but since I am not yet that well established in this world, you will recruit more for my flocks, my herds, my packs, in a more sedate fashion. Bring them to me, Owen of the Green, those who would follow my ways, and increase my power such that the Green will never fade, and you will continue to be rewarded."

"I-I-Intimate?" Owen gulped.

"Yeah, she means—" The lizard made some… very uncomfortable motions whilst hanging onto Owen's shoulder.

"I know what she means!" Owen shouted. "O-kay, I'll see about it! Hoo."

Moirea laughed, throwing her head back and causing a multitude of her feathered followers to flee the tree's branches. "Such prudishness, ah well, just know that I approve of the tantric arts, as I believe you call them, as much as any other gateway to the mystic. And know that I can teach them to you too, for a price." The goddess licked her lips, biting the bottom one. "Speak to the beasts, they will tell you what plants and other ingredients are good for what ailments. Speak to those kobolds of your master, and the goblins, they know both magic and alchemy respectively. The dwarves, too, as with many other races, have their own secrets they may share, but do not get too distracted, you will have time yet to build upon your knowledge of not only the arcane but the sacred in my eyes. And above all," Moirea took a step back, Owen felt the glade somehow shifting with her, "practice! You will learn more spells with time, and study."

Moirea stepped forwards again and fished Harry from Owen's shoulder. "Harry, you also share Owen's gifts as you share your soul. Know that you can never truly be apart again. With time, you will learn to first communicate at a distance, then share in each other's senses, and ultimately, shapes."

"You mean I can become human again?" Harry asked hopefully. Moirea shook her head sadly.

"No, but Owen will one day become able to be anything you can be! For example, little one, try being a bird!" The goddess moved her hand, seemingly pulling and molding the lizard as she gestured, and Harry found himself being reshaped like putty, his tail shortening even as it fanned out into feathers, his hind legs lengthening and strengthening, his forelegs too becoming broader and longer, the skin itching as feathers grew out in moments. His muzzle pushed forwards oddly, his teeth grating and grinding as they flowed together into a beak.

"Skrawk!" he cried. "That was… very strange." He peered down at himself, downy glossy black feathers shining in the sunlight. "I'm a crow?"

"A raven, silly bird! Now fly!"

"But I don't know how to ffflllllyyyyy!" squawked Harry, as he was tossed upwards by the goddess. He fluttered and flapped in a panic until, at the apex of his trip up to what would inevitably have become down again, he stopped tumbling and squawking and somehow leveled out. New wings straining, not having used them before, he struggled but managed to keep himself aloft. Over the course a long few seconds, his panicked breathing and struggling grew smoother, more practiced, until he was diving and swooping as if he'd been born with feathers.

"You do, or you will. Practice changing your forms as much as you practice your magic, Harry. You too will pick up spells, the same as your master, for if a witch and his familiar are to be an effective pair, you must learn how to channel his spells through your body."

"I wasn't sure about this Familiar business," called Harry excitedly, "but it does have its moments!"

"I'll say," said Owen, a lump in his throat. He looked down at his feet, blushing, "thank y—" he paused, then looked up. The glade was… different, somehow, the colors muted. The tree was different, the birds were gone… and so was the goddess. He blew a long breath out, puffing out his cheeks. "I think we've been dismissed."

"Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?" Harry called down, as he circled higher and higher.

"Bad news!" Owen called up.

"We're about an hour's walk from the base."

"That's not too bad! What's the good news?"

"I think I see a van coming, and it's one of ours! This way!"

"What makes you say that?" Owen called back as he followed the laughing raven out of the glade and through the forest until he found himself emerging onto a wide, dirt road in time for a flatbed to come careening around a corner and pull up short. A bear in the back, wearing a kobold, stood up over the cab. "Okay, that's definitely one of ours."

"Gee, ya think? Hey Sarge!" called Harry. Owen swore and winced as the crow dive-bombed the truck.

With a slam of the doors, and a sudden bout of cursing, Sarge looked up at the bird, and tilted his head. "Harry?" he asked, eyes going wide.

"That's me!" The bird landed roughly in the back of the truck, coming to rest in a bundle of feathers up against the bear and kobold.

"You sure?" Sarge leaned over the side of the truck, tilting his head.

"Pretty sure, Sarge, been a strange couple of… weeks? Months? Time's a bit screwy when you're dead."

"You two want a lift back to base?" Sarge asked eventually. "How'd you get all the way out here, anyway?"

"Owen's got a spell to summon a horse, but it doesn't last very long. Long enough to get out here, not long enough to get back."

"Quit rubbing it in," Owen complained, slamming the butt of his new staff down into the ground. There was a burst of light that silenced everyone. "Er, yeah, we all know about the horse spell," he added.

"I didn't," said Bear, helpfully waving a huge paw. The raven fidgeted, hopping about.

"Pick me up," Harry called plaintively, finally, "carry me. My wings hurt." He flopped over and fluttered as if he were dying from exhaustion. Owen rolled his eyes.

"Such a drama queen. You know you can pop back into this gem, right? And you know everybody knows, right?"

"I didn't know that," Bear added again, helpfully, grinning. The bird cawed weakly at him.

"Come on then, you little monster. Let's get back. We've got some practice to get through."

Owen scooped up the bird, then hopped in the back of the flatbed, slapping the side twice

 

[turbofluffysnek]

First Pack pt. 2


Sarge made his way across the compound towards the massive bonfires. Even from this distance, he could feel the drums being played by both kobolds and goblins, and hear the stamp of feet. The goblins apparently had set this all up, but the kobolds were assisting. That was new, he didn't know that the two 'tribes' could work together on magic of that fashion. Or at all, to be fair. They'd cleared a good deal of brush that would otherwise be in danger of causing a forest fire from the Dread Forest, plus gathered a lot of the surplus dross from the Eastern Forest, and had five massive piles burning.

"So all the 'beasts' from our lot signed up for this cockamamie offering from the goblins? And they also took most of the 'beasts' from the invaders?" Sarge fished a hip flask out from his jacket, unscrewed it, and took a long swig. He hissed, he'd grabbed the goblin booze rather than the dwarven mead.

Sanders nodded in the flickering firelight. "That's right. We're not really losing much, though we may want to recruit some more, ah, non-beasts from Stokerville. Can we get a message to the dragon? Or are we just going to have to go back again?"

"Argh, I think we're gonna have to go back again, not that we wouldn't have to anyway sooner or later. Not losing much though?"

"Yessir, nossir, our lot have been more or less 'out of action' since they got, ah, demoted, and the invaders the goblins took spend more effort than you'd credit trying to make our lives difficult. The rest have settled in; I don't know if they'll get, er, promoted, but they'll at least have stopped causing trouble with the rest gone."

"Hrmm. Still, I don't like it." He took another swig, hissed again, swore gently, then took another, longer swig and then offered the flask to Sanders, who gratefully took it. "What I'm really confused about are the WAGs, they're signing up too?"

Sanders shrugged. "Some of the women-folk have been feeling a little… restricted," he said, diplomatically. "You know how it is. Us men-folk get to go out and stroll around town, all of a sudden they're expected to, uh, stay home and mind the children."

"Whilst we get shot at and killed," Sarge added, taking another swig. He didn't hiss at the burn this time, that was probably bad. He was getting used to it. Or getting drunk. Or both.

"Whilst we get shot at and killed," Sanders agreed, "but still, they're not used to being shut up at home, metaphoric'ly speakin'." Sanders hiccuped as he looked at his own snifter. "Whew, that's wicked stuff."

"Shit. We're losing more of our folk each day. Alright, let's shake things up a bit in the human contingent. Women on guard duty, get them trained up on guns and ranged weapons. Do we have anybody who knows martial arts?" Sarge asked, looking up at his friend.

"Mmmm, yeah, few guys from the military know some moves?"

"Right, tell 'em to brush up on their Jackie Chan movies and start a class up, if they haven't already. Any of the girls want in on the action, they've got to be willing to throw hands." Sarge glared into the night. "We don't have any sort of business pussying around with this, our people are dying and talk is cheap. Equal rights, equal fights, isn't that what the little shits used to say?"

"Think so, sir. I'll sort it out."

"Tomorrow. Tonight, we've got to watch a few more of our boys, and their wives and girlfriends, join the Stokerville Irregulars."

The clearing reverberated with the sounds of drums being rhythmically pounded by sweating, exhausted goblins, accompanied by the pounding of clawed feet from the equally exhausted kobolds who were dancing in sync, where they weren't drumming on their own drums. Other goblins were chanting discordantly in another language that none of the humans present understood, but which set the teeth on edge. There were multiple beats, each overlapping with the other; one was almost a kind of heart beat, another was just a monotonous single impact that shook the body and mind, others were frantic staccato hammerings that couldn't fail to stir the blood.

The chanting, drumming and dancing had been going on for hours. At first nothing had been apparent other than the noise and general air of celebration, but now there was a palpable presence. The magic was working, they were summoning something. Sarge just hoped whatever-it-was, was safe, or at least on their side.

"Isn't that Gullins?" Sarge asked, pointing his flask-laden hand at a figure in the center of the summoning circle.

"A-yup, the man offered to keep an eye on the troublemakers."

"Then shouldn't he be, uh, you know, somewhere else about now? As in not right there in the middle of it all?"

Sanders scratched his head. "Ah, y-yeah, I don't think this magic's dangerous, but what is he… hang on, what's that? It's starting? Gullins? Gullins! Get outta there, man!"

There was a scintillation at the center of the circle, as if a star was being born, very far away, some sort of growing, glowing lamp hanging in mid-air. The rough, roiling globe grew swiftly from a pin-prick to a golf ball, to a tennis ball, to a football, to a beach ball, and then it began to unfold like some glorious, white-blue flower as it began to envelope the center of the magic circle where all the humans were milling about, some with trepidation, others with grim determination. Gullins was in the second group.

Sarge's feet pounded on the gravel as he ran through the milling partygoers watching the spellcasting, bringing him close to the edge of the frankly enormous magic circle, where he wavered anxiously outside of it. "Gullins, lad! It's starting! You're too close!" Sarge waved his arms, but Gullins just stood there, seemingly unconcerned. "Oh not you too," Sarge swore.

Oh shit, Sarge realized, he's really planned this. His mouth fell open, then snapped shut, just as the globe of light enveloped the lot of them. Sarge squinted, looking away, as the power swelled in the clearing.

***

Gullins felt the magic wash over him even as he was being yelled at to get out of the summoning circle, but he held firm. He knew what he wanted. He didn't know where it would take him, but he knew where he was coming from and he didn't want to be there any more; humans were on the bottom rung in this new world, weak and easily overpowered. By every metric they were yesterday's news. He wanted nothing to do with that sort of losing position if he could get out of it, and… he could. Without dying, too.

From one illuminating moment to the next, the world around him faded away, the drumming and chanting and wailing dropping to a dull background hum. He was enveloped in a soft, brilliant darkness, doing his best to remain calm, still blinking from what had been blinding whiteness between one heartbeat and the next.

"Hmm, what an interesting little creature to come before me," said a voice, apropos of nothing. It sounded feminine, ancient, and yet full of… life, energy, and a grim exaltation of power. It rumbled through his body like an avalanche.

"Ahh, hello?" Gullins called. "I, I, I want to deal!"

"Hello, little human. Lamashtu has heard your cries, and has answered. I know what you want, but hmm, let me see…" The voice was silent for a moment, before Gullins somehow felt the presence behind it approach him, studying him. He felt more naked than he had ever before, wilting under that gaze. "There are three things I can offer you, though one you will turn down, another would not satisfy you, and only the third would give you what you desire. But which is which? Do you know?"

Gullins spun, trying to see through the cloying darkness, but all he could see was flashes of fur. Mocking laughter echoed all around as the very female voice toyed with him.

"You could take my offering and become one of my children… but you are an unremarkable human, and you would make an unremarkable gnoll. You would become powerful, that is true, but amongst others of your kind, you would remain firmly in the middle of the pack. A disappointment, to yourself as much as to me, no?"

Gullins swallowed. "I d-don't want to be like that, like this, any more! I'll do anything!" He gestured to himself, aware that he couldn't see anything, but convinced that this creature, whatever she was, most definitely could.

"Dangerous words to a god, human. Oh yes, yes, indeed. I can give you what you seek, but for what you desire, you must offer me something in return. Why should I give you something for nothing? That is not the way of Lamashtu!"

Gullins gulped as he felt the full force of the attention of the creature. "T-tell me what is!" he cried out, his voice booming into the blackness. The veil parted, and Gullins fell to his knees at what he saw. A three-eyed jackal looming over him, sixty feet tall, eyes burning like coals.

"Listen well, manling. Three choices there were, yet one you have already cast aside!" The fearsome creature leaned closer, glistening fangs as large as his arms. "Two choices remain, little human, two choices, one word, two meanings, two ways forwards… your Manhood, or your manhood. Which will it be?"

"I… what? What do you mean?" Gullins stammered out. The jackal-goddess laughed, cruelly, a barking reverberating gekkering that echoed long in his ears.

"Silly little human, so stuck on your silly little human foibles!" Gullins could feel the laughter even as the cackle echoed around him. "You want power, little human, and I can grant that, but you have to understand, males are not the true leaders of my gnoll packs. It is the females that are, hahaha, on top. Bigger, stronger, prouder. You would be a good Matriarch, with my favor, would you want that? Hmm, I see you are considering it, but you are not yet convinced. Very well! The last option, you would become… another of my children. You have to see, little human, that whether you walk on two legs or four it is all the same to me, but for you, maybe you would see this as being… reduced."

"Reduced? Four… four legs? You want me to become an animal?"

"You say that as if you are not all but mere ants before Lamashtu." The goddess huffed. "If you see it as such, who am I to deny it? I could crush you with but a thought, maybe I should for your impertinence."

Gullins held his breath, metaphorically at least, he didn't seem to need to breathe here, but met the goddess' gaze.

"Interesting. I knew you were interesting, little human. Shall I continue with my final offer?"

Gullins nodded, swallowing in his suddenly painfully dry throat. Lamashtu narrowed her eyes, a wicked smile curving her muzzle.

"Amongst my children, gnolls and goblins both, they oft have proud and awesome companions known as worgs. You may make a pathetically average gnoll, and an even less inspiring human, but you would make an exceptional worg. I can taste the unasked question, smell it on you, echoing through your blood, ask it!" The goddess leaned closer still, the fire in her eyes dancing mockingly.

"Would I still be me?" Gullins whispered, rocking back and forth on his heels. Giving up so much…

"You want to know if you would still be able to think and to talk. The arrogance that a human would have anything interesting to say?" Again Lamashtu laughed. "You would, though worgs are not well known for their oratory skills." The goddess circled Gullins slowly, thoughtfully. "I bless all of my children, manling. Other gods make their beast-kin stand and walk and talk and toil with all the dross that makes being a human so tiring. Why not… give that up? You would be first among worgs in this world, little creature, mayhaps sire to a dynasty. You could become legendary as a worg… all you would have to do is say 'yes'." Lamashtu's claw pricked under his chin, painfully pushing his head up to meet her gaze once more. She leaned close enough Gullins could smell the carrion on her breath, feel the spittle from her words. "Or you can remain unexceptional, ordinary even, forgotten."

"I, uh, you said a dynasty?" Gullins couldn't believe the question coming from his own throat. Lamashtu's eyes flashed.

"Mates. Offspring. Successor kings. Archons of worg-kind. Whole packs, entire kingdoms of worgs could spread from your loins. Should you take up the mantle of worg-king, nay, worg emperor, father of all wargs… songs would be sung about you, statues erected in your honor, and all you have to do… is get down on all fours." Lamashtu's expression was one of the fox among the hen-house, the cat with the cream. "But speak swiftly, human, for I tire of these games, I could after all offer such to any other pathetic meat-sack that dared enter my domain." The goddess regarded her claws disinterestedly.

Gullins gathered the feelings fluttering around in his head, and snatched them up in a steely mental grip. "Deal," he spat out, leaning forwards with a hand, only to have the 'ground' before him open up, and he fell into darkness that swallowed him whole.

 

[Nomar]

When returning to monkey just isn't going far enough.