“My Lord, I have news” Prince Rostislav turned his snout to look at the messenger, a lowly green. He stared at the kobold until she spoke.
“A dragon had been spotted on the coal side tunnel, pursuing goblins. The king has assembled a war party to greet the divine dragon, they left 2 days ago.” He could practically feel the anticipation in her voice as the green practically sung the beast’s praises.
A scale-cursed dragon… just what he needed. Rostislav had to steel his will to stop imagining its lustrous scales and infinite wisdom. He would not become some doe-eyed female caught in a powerful warrior’s gaze. He had ambitions. And how bloody long did it take for him to even get word? They sent a runner, not even a message spell. Something this important deserved a mage’s attention, surely. Those old fools, playing against him in such a critical moment.
Rostislav looked out over the ramparts. They guarded the iron side tunnels, completely in the opposite direction of the city where the king and dragon would meet. His tail started to swish on the floor in his agitation. He raised a red-scaled, bracer-clad arm to gesture the messenger away without looking in her direction. She was cute, but he would not stoop to a green.
He dragged his free left arm’s claws against the parapet while tightening his grip on Hide Piercer, his beloved spear. His plans to slowly throttle the other sectors with a lack of good-quality iron ore would still hold. Over the last few years, he had already feigned a decrease in production while outfitting his own forces with better and better equipment. His mages were suffering from a lack of magic metals, and he had his suspicions as to why—but a mage could only do so much against a fully equipped regiment.
“Well, let glory be gained or my scales be powdered.” With a final scrape to the worked stone, leaving deep grooves, he turned and addressed his packs. He would have to play on his kobold heartstrings; telling them the truth in this situation would have him lose support. He would inform his top commanders and promise them high rewards for following him. He would not let the otehr factions monopolise a divine dragon.
“Pack leaders, warlords, and mages, the king had made a grave error. In his old age, he has gained the word of a dragon approaching, benevolent to our territory. In his folly, he has plans to trap the dragon and steal its power. I will not allow him to mar the divinity of such a blessed creature. We mobilize now for he will surely try to enact his devilish plans. Husssssssaaaasss” he gave a hissing cheer which his packs returned before everybody on the walls and floor began draining from the defenses.
He would take everyone with him, save for the few non-combatants left behind in the village. It would leave the wall defenses undermanned, but unless something mobile or truly dangerous came, the walls would hold. Many of the pack leaders and evolved kobolds could see through his spew of lies, but they had either been paid in advance to follow him or silenced by good sense. They would either follow him or be cast aside by tooth and claw.
In less than an hour, close to 3,000 kobolds of various levels and quality marched down the packed dirt path leading towards the kobold city. From his place atop a throne of iron, the prince surveyed his steel legions as they advanced on his rightful land to claim his birthright.
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Rue investigated her potential new home. After passing through the city, they had approached the cavern walls and entered a cave along the side. She felt a warm, comforting sensation envelop her as she crossed the threshold. The entrance was not massive, only about half a dozen meters wide, but still plenty big enough for her current size. The roof was supported by smooth stone columns, evidently shaped by magic, as evidenced by the small residue of mana left in the stone.
The space opened up after they had traveled a few dozen meters. Rue could feel and see mana coursing through the walls, seemingly following thin channels in the stone. The natural density of mana in the cave was also higher, with most of the stone infused with small traces of elemental energy. It felt pleasant—perhaps even a suitable location for a den, especially given the bad memories that marred the dwarven stronghold. Though the stronghold had more space… and the satisfaction of having bested its previous occupant was tempting. She would think more on it, prehaps even lead her new kobold minions in creating somethign more to her likeing.
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King Kaliorax was accompanying the dragon but had taken a back seat, letting her explore on her own initiative while remaining close enough to answer any requests. He made sure to keep his guards and entourage outside so as not to encroach on what he hoped would become the dragon’s new lair.
He watched as the mighty red dragon sniffed and tasted the air. It was thick with magic, something the lore keepers had told him would be of great value to the dragon. This mine was an old, tapped-out gold mine; thin seams not worth extracting had pulled mana from the environment, causing it to accumulate naturally to a higher degree.
Hopefully, they could convince the dragon to settle here permanently. It would increase the power of the kobold nation exponentially. Generations to come would speak of him as the bringer of divinity. He would secure the kobolds’ future for hundreds of years. Yes, they would have to give regular tribute, as was only proper, but the divine dragon would also protect them, perhaps even assist them in taking new territory in the more dangerous sections of the labyrinth.
““Sire, the gift has been prepared”” An aid whispered to him via a message spell. While the connection was still open he asked for them to bring it in.
They watched as a small wooden cart laden with gold was pulled by one of his guards into the lair. It was followed by another, then another. Each cart that passed contained glinting gold in many different forms. Drawn by single kobolds they were used to transport heavier items far more conveniently. They kept coming until six had passed, organized and comprised of only his most trusted that would be allowed to enter. He had personally organized it with advice from his lore keepers and advisors before he had even gone to meet the dragon.
Yet another convoy of carts entered, this one pulled by his mage entourage. These carts were filled with silver bars and coins. Soon enough, his red warriors returned to continue bringing in the hoard.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Kaliorax walked into the chamber of the dragon’s lair and saw the dragon gazing at the gold and silver with infatuation. Her tongue darted in and out, tasting the air and the scent of the metals.
“Great One, a welcome gift from our city, we will also providess the labor to carry your previousss hoard over to this location if you will it, sso please accept our humble request to sstay.” He followed this speech with a genuflection onto the ground.
There was a pregnant pause, then he heard her reply with a voice thrumming with power.
“Very well, king of koboldsss. I shall accept these giftss and reside here for now. This is a tribute worthy of a true boon, sstep forward”
He approached the dragon with reverence, he could only suspect, not even daring to hope that the lore masters recordings would be true.
The dragon raised one impossibly sharp claw, bringing it to her own flesh on her other foreleg. With what appeared to be some significant effort she worked her way under one of the larger scales there and pierced her flesh. Nothing happened and the dragon frowned before pressing harder until a rivulet of blood worked its way free. He felt a shift if the dragons magic, his rudimentary senses not understanding the true complexities. She then lifted her forelimb to his head high and spoke.
“Drinks… become mine”
His heart surged and had his eyes been capable of crying like mammals he would have shed tears of joy. Reverently he opened his jaws and let a few drops of the potent blood touch his tongue, he felt the magic work into him and wholeheartedly accepted it.
Ding! Patron Gained [Ruebrum Ignasia]
Ding! +[Pact Magic]
Pact Magic [1]
Your Patrons power flows through you granting you power. Your form is empowered, and you may draw on a fraction of your patron's power.
Kaliorax felt the blood go down his throat, so hot it burned even as it began to fill him with a searing warmth and power. It spread from his stomach, seeping into every corner of his body. He felt so much more powerful, every muscle and scale infused with a tiny fraction of the great being’s essence. From his lore masters’ teachings, he knew this would be a permanent increase to his Attributes and was not the full extent of the pact. He could also feel a distant but readily accessible source of magic. Though he had access to only a fraction of what the dragon wielded, he knew he would be able to draw on it to cast great and powerful spells.
“Thankss you great one I shalls humbly serve you, grow your hoard and expand your empire”
“Good good, I look forward to it. Now, I wish to be alone with my hoard”
Kaliorax bowed and hurriedly left the room, taking all of his stunned and awed guards with him, now that they had finished unloading all of the gold. He glanced at the piles of gold and silver in the room and briefly thought that he would have liked to see the great one basking on the pile but knew he could not stay and disobey the great one's wish to be left alone for now.
It was with both anticipation and mild regret that he left the cavern, away from basking in the warmth and majesty of their new god and back into a world of politics and scheming. Kaliorax forced himself out and once around the corner, he had one of his most favored guards and a skilled advisor stand guard by the entrance to prevent curious and bold kobolds from any unwanted intrusion. They could also contact him should the dragon have any requests that would need to be fulfilled.
His thoughts turned to food. He could feel his body calling out and craving sustenance; he would need it to fuel the coming changes to his body.
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Rue looked at the piles of gold and silver. First, she gathered all the silver into a huge pile. The pile was over 5 meters across and nearly two meters deep, with several large bars of silver sticking out and rolled to the edge. Just to make sure, Rue leaned into the pile and singled out a huge bar of silver, nearly half a meter long and over 30 cm thick. She licked the metal and activated [Mineral Assay].
{Silver 98.00% Fine, Precious, Common}
This was slightly less pure than the bars she had originally created, which, when compared to the veritable mountain before her, seemed insignificant but would have to be rectified at some point. She would have to retrieve her other horde, small as it may be compared to this one; every coin was important to her.
She walked over to the pile and stepped onto it, coins cascading around her claws as her front legs sank into the flowing coins. She let out a huff of contentment and lay down, curling around the crest of the mountain to test its quality. It felt divine—warm and comforting. But it could not hold her for long before she was drawn to the pile of gold.
Rue stalked over to the mound and licked a cresting gold coin.
{Gold 99.0% Fine, Precious, Rare}
A little bit purer than the silver, top quality indeed. Rue pressed her snout into the pile of gold, feeling the metal press against her scales. It was a truly magnificent moment, her first encounter with this metal even better than silver. She had discovered no better sensation than gold pressing against her scales.
Ding! Ability Evolution Draconic Greed[1] => Draconic Greed[2]
That was not a surprise, with the increase in her wealth and her first look at gold she had an even greater desire to own more of the metals. She needed more, to own a mountain of gold and silver that she could submerge herself in.
Draconic Greed [2]
Awakened when a dragon first sees a truly valuable metal and their thoughts turn to acquiring such objects. A hallmark of all draconic breeds you [Lust] after precious metals such as [Platinum], [Mithril], [Silver] and [Gold]. Precious metals in your presence take in your mana faster, and can be felt up to [Int]*5 meters away.
Well, at least the skill did something now. Before, all it did was increase her desire for the metals; now it would allow her to make sure no one stole her precious hoard. But enough contemplating. Rue eyed a spot right next to her silver pile and pulled the pile of gold over. It was only a pile that reached a meter in height, mostly coins and small bars, but it would be where she rested her head. The tinkling and ringing of coins spilling onto the stone floor was musical as she readjusted the piles, making them flatter and more suitable for a resting spot. The chiming of gold hitting gold and silver was mesmerizing as the magical torchlight flickered on the flowing metal.
The metal sparked like a magical carpet, and her eyes dilated as she let out a deep rumble of pleasure. Barely holding herself back, she walked onto the pile and lay down, shifting and rubbing to work her way down slightly, getting as much contact with the metals as possible as her mana flowed from her and into the pile. It would take a while for every coin to be marked by her, but she was long overdue for a nap. She raised the temperature of the cavern to a comfortable shimmer and then rested her head nestled inside the pile of gold before closing her eyes. With an involuntary rumbling still terminating from deep within her chest, she fell asleep.
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The King of the Kobolds sat atop his throne in the palace, one of the largest buildings in the city. The tall walls and high ceilings were carved with the best artwork the kobold stone shapers had created through the centuries. Each king had worked on the palace to make it a wonder for the ages.
He sat atop his throne, surrounded by females and allies, but it was not happiness he felt. He stared into a glowing crystal ball, one of his mages channeling a divination spell. In the milky quartz orb, he saw a terrible vision. An army marched, each second bringing them ever closer. The dull sheen of wrought iron armor and polished scales pushed forward in a relentless march of scale and steel.