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Chapter 10 - Finishing Touches

Waking up for the third time in my new world was as different as the first times. First had been my egg, something that the gift of sapience had made very traumatic. Second had been a panicky, light sleep, fearing that I would awake to my certain doom.

Third time was the charm, clearly. The large, soft bed beneath me agreed, creaking in approval of my wriggling. I didn’t know what the fur under me was, and I didn’t care. I didn’t even care about the smell, though when I did finally get up I ordered the whole room scrubbed and cleaned. The goblins looked at me like I was crazy, but with a little explaining they had an idea.

The goblin infrastructure was bizarre, and certain subjects seemed to have been the focus of their entire culture for a long while. They excelled at chemical work, so my description of soap as “fat and lye” was enough to get them going. That was integral to my plans here. Every time a pungent green-skinned fool wafted past me, I twitched to remove the stink.

The dragon in me roared on occasion, but the humanity was keeping the wanton murder down at least.

“Mighty Izaark,” the tallest goblin I’d seen yet, Frakko, was also the most well spoken. “I trust that you rested well?”

“Oh,” I blinked, surprised at the small talk. “Yes.” Surprised, but not willing to encourage it. I want power, not friends. “Did you start work on the excavation?”

“Yes, Mighty Izaark. The workers have started expanding the tunnel to your lair already and should be finished in a day or two.” The difference between him and Grannda’s intelligence was staggering hearing him speak. Frakko seemed to be the actual glue for this village, the only goblin smart enough to know the importance of forethought and planning. I was impressed and grateful for his assistance.

“Good. I had Cadda and Hikko start a project, look over it at some point and make sure it’s going right. If they’re making bubbles, and not bombs, we’re going the right way.”

Apparently, my explosion of Grannda’s house was hardly an uncommon expectation in goblin society. I stopped myself from thinking too hard how they survived without any form of sanitation and still somehow ended up knowing how to make acids, poisons and gunpowder. If it made me seem less different to the goblins, I’d blow up another few houses.

Grubznoz had placed the only permanent structure in the cavern in the worst place possible, so that would be first on my list. Just as soon as the tunnel to my lair was widened so I could move this bed over.

Climbing from the large craterous space that hid the chief’s hut from view (and made it indefensible), I was quite pleased with the amount of work being done. My first edicts, such as they were, had galvanised the goblins. Apparently, they were an industrious people by nature, but Grubznoz had been sloth incarnate. If it wasn’t to improve his own standard of living, the goblins were forbidden from it.

With a tertiary knowledge of advancements from my homeworld, I had suggested some improvements and Frakko had jumped to get them started. He had become incredibly enthused when I explained what little I knew of aqueducts. By showing him and two other goblins - I would call this group bookish, at least in comparison to most goblins - the physics of the thing, they instantly latched on to the idea. The goblins had access to water, but now they were going to start channelling it to themselves, removing hours of labour.

I was proud of my start, half expecting to see an achievement pop up somewhere. Not that I needed anything more right now. It was akin to actual pain that I hadn’t been able to peel myself away from the needy green clingers to stretch my new muscles out.

A new tier of power waited in my skin, freshly rested and ready to seize the day. It didn’t feel like I had suddenly been granted the inhuman strength of a demi-god, but I could feel something. A limit that had just swelled, not yet pushed. It was exhilarating, and punishing to hold back.

“Mighty Izaark?”

Frakko had raised his voice slightly, breaking my introspection. “Oh, sorry, what was that?”

“I asked the Mighty One if that was all the work you wanted to share today? Akweeducks might take a few days.”

“That seems like enough to get on with to me. I’m not really bothered with the day-to-day minutia, to be honest, Frakko. I don’t know your people or how things work at large, yet. The last chief left a lot to you, I don’t want to do that.” It was just my nature, but knowing I could lighten someone else’s load and not doing it was just plain abhorrent to me.

“If I may,” The goblin spoke up, clearing his throat, “Chief Grubznoz was a greedy fat git who made me spend all day finding him food or drink. If I can work? And tinker? I would do that all day.” The goblin was earnest and wide-eyed. To me, they all looked the same, and that same was ugly. Vomit coloured skin, nearly no ears and the nose of a pig, they looked rotten. But they were also… accommodating. Unique, each of them.

My dragon self wouldn’t allow me to feel heavy guilt over the lost lives - accidents and self-defense - but there was a wretchedness to it. I was really hoping that the next creature I came across was just obviously an enemy. Moral dilemmas were getting tedious.

“Good,” I replied to Frakko, “then, please, act as though you have the word of chief. Act in my interests first, and then the interest of all. Does that work for you?”

The tall goblin looked as though I had held out a hand of diamonds. Maybe some of my sensibilities were worth keeping around. I had been a good manager on earth, and was glad to see that no matter where you go, being fair with people was always the best way forward.

“Yes, of course, absolutely.” Frakko continued throwing words of agreement at me as I started to stalk away. Enough of this distraction, I thought, time to keep exploring.

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Before that, I was heading to my lair. Passing the working goblins, I went to the still locked door. The journey from chief’s hut to my lair took mere minutes due to my new tiers in both body and strength, though the distance must have been close to a mile. There were baubles around the entrance to my lair, happily received offerings to a new chief.

I gathered the scattered trinkets into my cavern and closed it behind me. They weren’t special things, nothing even showing up on my Display as items of note, but I kept them anyway. It wasn’t much, but the shiny stones and carved statuettes were the beginning of my horde. It didn’t even feel like a choice, I had to have a trove like Byzametiya’s one day.

When everything was safely inside, and the door locked, I opened my lair page.

Lair Page - Lair of Izaark

Upgrade

Effect

Cost

(EP)

Sleeping Quarters

Creates an area for the Boss Monster to sleep

(Can be upgraded)

10

Water Source

Creates a source of clean drinking water for the lair.

30

Iron Doors

Creates reinforced doors with a locking bar

80

Storage Area

Creates a lowered area below the lair, designed to store meat and other supplies.

50

Guard Quarters

(Requires workers)

Assign workers to guard specific areas.

50

Escape Tunnel

Creates an escape route to the surface of Gaia.

100

With 266 experience points to spend, and a new goal of 1000 points to hit level 2, I was hesitant to spend big. Still, I wanted this to be my home for a long while, and the forty points spent to make it more liveable would serve me well for a long time.

I chose the options for a water source and true sleeping quarters, and the effect was instant and marvellous.

Like the walls were made of clay instead of igneous rock, they were molded anew by unseen hands. Like a god had begun reshaping the world before me, the black and brown rocks started flowing like water. I was spellbound at the effect, the land moving to my desire, the cave growing much larger. Captivated, I watched as my lair’s walls started to harden into their new normal. The rock on the back wall, cementing itself, burst open again and a small but stable stream began pouring from within the rock. It trickled through the newly expanded circumference of the room before pooling about a third of the way around. The water looked, and upon tasting was, crystal clean.

Without thinking too hard about it, I installed the iron doors too. This was my water, more valuable than the small collection I had been gathering. Looking at my total points, I had dropped to 146 and nothing else seemed particularly necessary or appealing to me after the doors. A few new options popped up but as exciting as this all was, it was just yet another distraction.

Without even checking my new sleeping quarters, I set out again. The new iron doors were there, wrought with a gorgeous filigree that stunned me for a moment as I recognised what I saw. Carved into the metal, as though cast in an immaculate, impossible mold.

The relief on the door showed my “battle” with Grubznoz, such as it was. The design of the gore from his head, the power that was shown in the blast of force I had killed him with, the cheering mass of goblins. It took my breath away with it’s lifelike details. Much better than the wooden ones, I decided. There was also a key placed on my side of the locked door. I opened it, and realised that I had nowhere to put the key.

As intuitive as everything else, my need was met in proper video game fashion. Surprised that this hadn’t happened before, I was still intensely excited when the words appeared in my vision.

Inventory

Capacity: 80

Item

Item description

Weight

Lair Key

A soulbound key. Opens the door to the Lair of Izaark.

0.1

Closing the door behind me, I hefted the key to get a sense for the weight limits. It was quite dense, for the small of the key itself. As I willed it, it faded into an ethereal space. I quickly grabbed some of the jerky and bread, filled two decorated waterskins and placed them all in my inventory. The waterskins weighed “5”, whatever measurement 5 meant. The assorted other foods brought me to around 10, leaving me with a capacity of 70. I raised an eyebrow as I realised my lair now had a name, but didn't think much of it.

Suddenly much more prepared for a scouting expedition than I had expected, I was brimming with confidence as I began down the final path to be explored from my home.

“Forward path,” I said aloud, starting down the hall, “get ready to be named.”

This path was less winding than the death tunnel or goblin tunnel. Instead it was a steady decline for a long while, around half an hour by my estimate, before a new crossroad. I decided on a name for the tunnel, marking the beginning of the crossroad with my dragonclaw marking. This name would be less for me, and more for anyone foolish enough to wander my way.

With my sigil, I marked the forward tunnel the “dragon road” and without much deliberation, chose the left path. “Left is always right,” I proclaimed to myself and silent walls.

I was happily surprised that this path, the mushroom tunnel, named itself easily. Luminescent mushrooms of all types were growing along this path, much to my wonder. My excitement only raised as I picked clusters, placing them into my inventory. My analysis did not extend to explaining the properties of the mushrooms, but I had hopes of decorating my cavern with them.

Taking my time to carefully collect a particularly large fungus, a purple glow to it that reminded me of Byzametiya, I heard the noises start. The caverns aren’t silent, distant noises having nowhere to go but through, but these were close. The clicking, that had sounded like some small rocks falling, began to pick up speed.

Whipping around to face my assailant, I felt what amounted to goosebumps on my scaly skin. All of my scales shivered, reflecting the mushroom’s glow around me in a purple tinged pulse. Instinctively, from both human and kobold, a scream of terror escaped before I could help it.

Why did it have to be insects?