Trout's Landing.

"That's still disorientin'." Jeb muttered as he went from warm halls to cold open-air within the span of a second.

He shook his head and looked around at the fishing lodge that he and the kobolds had claimed. The Trap Master was right, he thought as he really started to notice the changes to the kobolds since he first saw them a couple months ago.

If he really wanted them to be safe from the changes he was going through they would have to leave him. Even that wasn't a guarantee of working if even the local wildlife was now getting pumped full of eldritchness.

Jeb sighed as he saw the Trap Master and the Chief heading towards him when they noticed he had returned. The Chief greeted him when they drew near.

"Ah! Master Jeb!"

"Chief." Jeb greeted simply.

"The Trap Master was just informing me of a discussion you two had recently." The Chief stated.

Jeb briefly glared at the Trap Master. Snitch, Jeb thought semi-jokingly.

"Yeah. We were discussin' how the tribe would deal with winter comin' 'round the corner."

"And how you might be able to fix that." The Trap Master prodded.

Geez I get it, Jeb thought as he cast another glare towards the Trap Master.

"Yeah. We were goin' over how the fire I can conjure, since it doesn't harm you lot, might be the solution to keepin' ya'll goin' come winter."

"Oh?! I admit that I am fascinated in seeing this fire of yours for myself since the others told us about it after your encounter with the giant spiders!" The Chief said excitedly as others of the tribe began to congregate as word began to spread of what Jeb was going to do.

Should sold tickets, Jeb thought with a grumble.

"Fine. But just so you know, I'm not sure how it works exactly so be careful regardless."

The kobolds nearest him took a single step back while the Chief and the Trap Master remained where they stood. Guess they weren't quite as nervous about this as he was, Jeb thought as he took a deep breath and shook his hands as he looked around, both to delay the inevitable as well as look for something to set alight.

As if reading his thoughts though, a couple of kobolds rushed over with some firewood and formed a firepit for him.

"Thanks there fellers."

He looked around some more. But it was obvious that he could only delay so much without looking like a jackass, if he didn't already look like one, he thought as he stared at the cleared area of ground and the pile of wood within.

Please don't burn the place down, Jeb thought as he conjured a spark of ghostly blue flame at his finger tips. Earning gasps and oohs and aahs from the kobolds. Forgot they all didn't see when he lit the spiders and murlocs up, Jeb thought as he held his breath and tensed up as he flicked the blue ember towards the wood.

It burst into flame before Jeb could even blink. The ghostly blue fire engulfed the wood and seemed to move unnaturally as it writhed while the wood began to crack and creak as the fire ate at the outer layer of bark and wood.

The kobolds stared at the eerie fire as it whipped and weaved as it seemed intent on expanding like all fire does. But unlike all fire, this one did as it was told and it remained within the cleared patch of ground and consumed the wood instead. There were no sparks, no burning pieces of ash flying up and floating on the wind to another spot dry enough to set alight. None of that, it remained within the bounds declared to it.

Most of the kobolds just stared at the unnatural flame before them as it writhed away while casting eerie light around it. Except for the Trap Master, who marched towards the flame with determination and courage in his eyes. Then he stepped right into the ghostly flame.

The kobolds all gasped, even the skirmishers that had seen him do this once before had their eyes wide as even they prepared for a different outcome to occur. But none of their fears were founded as the Trap Master stood within the ghostly fire unbothered and unburnt.

After a minute or two of standing within the flames the Trap Master walked calmly out of it. The flame seemed to grasp onto his scales like it didn't want him to leave before pulling away. The trace amount of flames that did remain on his scales seemed to shrink into the cracks and grooves of his scales though, leaving nothing to see to the naked eye.

The Trap Master then turned towards the river and marched. When he neared the edge he stared into the dark murky, and importantly, cold, water. Then he stepped into it. He hissed as the freezing water seemed to rush to claim him as the cold collided with his freshly warmed scales and rushed to his core. Only to be stopped by the warmth he felt after stepping into the flames.

It wont last though, the Trap Master thought as he felt as the warmth was gradually receding at the constant onslaught of the freezing water. But if he didn't have that warmth he would be greatly slowed and at the mercy of anything nearby from it. Now he had a chance, he thought as he stepped further into the river and retrieved a fishing trap a little deeper in the water that the kobolds hadn't been able to haul in because the line for it had broken and the cold water prevented them from collecting it.

But with ease, the Trap Master grabbed the hefty fish trap and wadded back towards the shore. The warmth of the fire keeping the freezing cold at bay long enough for him to emerge back onto land with barely a shiver to show for it and a trap that had yet more of the mutated fish for their stores.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

He looked up and saw that the entire tribe had just seen what he had done. A problem that the entire tribe had for weeks now as the cold steadily ate away at them was now seemingly gone with a flick of Jeb's wrist. They all turned towards Jeb, and at the fire he conjured.

He felt like he shoulda sold tickets, Jeb thought as the kobolds continued to stare. Then one of them took a couple tentative steps towards the fire and held out a claw. The fire darted towards the offered limb and the kobold pulled back with a startled yelp as the claw was swallowed in the fire. Only to chuckle as the claw proved to be unscathed.

As it started to dawn on the kobolds that the fire really wouldn't hurt them they all began to take their own chances and began to stick their own claws or tails into the fire before darting away with excited yelps.

Some even began to jump into the fire and hoping back out within seconds, few except for a couple of skirmishers, and a single hatchling, was brave enough to stand within it for a full minute before darting back out.

Then they got the idea to spread it. Some took the still burning logs or got their own makeshift torches and began to spread the fire to the other firepits. Some had been put out while others were introduced while the orange flames still burned. In the cases of the latter, the eerie flame suffered no neighbor or challenger and seemed to attack the warm fire with a viciousness like a wild predator as it consumed and snuffed out the warm glow and replaced it with its own eerie luminance.

The lodge itself went through a similar feeling as the warm glow the fires had began to die out as the ghostly blue fires gave the lodge a haunted pallor as even the shadows that danced on the nearby trees and stone seemed to have an unnaturalness to them. Jeb was sure there was some deeper meaning or metaphor for what he was watching happen. But he didn't really have the heart, or deeper insight, to bother trying to figure it out.

"Amazing!" The Chief said as he watched the blue fires dotting the landscape.

"Do you know anything about fire like this?" Jeb asked the Chief.

"Not much I'm afraid. Only that blue fire like this is usually called balefire or witchflame. What little I read of it said that it was only found within dark places where witches or other dark magic users would dwell."

"So totally normal fire that doesn't have any negative connections or sinister affects, great." Jeb muttered sarcastically.

The Chief, perhaps noticing the concerned look on Jeb's face, turned to him and offered a comforting smile.

"But those books were probably written by those who are biased against such things. If it was as dangerous as they said, many of the tribe would no longer be standing here would they?"

"Guess not. But if you don't mind me askin'. How is it you can speak, let alone read, English?" Jeb asked as he didn't really want to dwell more on his own fire.

"Do you mean the Common Tongue?"

"No, I mean the King's English. But sure."

"Well, I guess it was a hobby for one of my predecessors."

"A hobby?"

"Yes. Our natural language is a form of Draconic. Though it varied greatly from the language and would have our own words laced within it along with loans from whatever local dialect our tribes came into contact with. But, many of our draconic masters didn't much care for our bastardization of their divine language and many actively suppressed the use of Koboldic as I recall it was referred to by one of the master's captives once."

"What does it sound like?" Jeb asked to which he promptly regretted as the Chief gave out a series of warbles and clicks that reminded Jeb of the dinosaurs from Jurassic Park.

"That was..."

"Unsettling? Many seemed to think so as hearing our language during a raid was deemed unnerving according to some former captives."

"Just how many people did you capture?"

"During my stewardship? Some hundred or so. Anyway, while our master didn't forbid us from using our language, he didn't really find it particularly pleasing and any kobold within his proximity was quick to cease its use after several found themselves the target of his explosive temper. So one of my predecessors, as both a hobby and an interest in keeping us from not being killed, took to studying the Common Tongue in the hopes of less of the tribe being eaten or crushed by our master, as well as curiosity at conversing with the master's frequent captives!"

"Did it work?"

"To a degree. Casualties among the tribe did drop as a result. Though not by much. And captives didn't seem any more inclined to speak to us just because we could speak their own tongues. However, the tribe thought it was interesting as well and so the trend continued until eventually the entirety of the tribe was bilingual."

"Are all kobold tribes bilingual?"

"To a certain degree yes. At least as far as I'm aware of. It has been some time since we last encountered another tribe and so something may have changed since then. But the last few tribes we met had little problem speaking to us in Common. Though some had heavier accents from their own regions and influences." The Chief said though Jeb could tell as excited as he was to inform Jeb of kobold history/language, his eyes kept darting to the balefire.

"Well. Thanks for entertainin' me for a minute."

"Of course! Any time Master Jeb." The Chief exclaimed and almost immediately darted to the nearest balefirepit.

Jeb however, was done for the day. Dealin' with his own conscience, or empathy or whatever it was, being out on vacation at the moment. The remnants of the murlocs, as far as he was aware, and how they've also joined the growing list of mutated wildlife in the area. Anna's magic lesson that almost made him hurl. Then the kobolds wanting his balefire, and whatever side effects it might have on them.

Yeah, he was done with dealing with today, Jeb thought as he just rubbed his face and turned towards the admin building and made for his room and his bed.

-----

Sam's Place.

"God Damnit. I thought it'd be better by now." Sam muttered as he touched the wound on the side of his face.

"It would ifin you'd quit peckin' at it!" Millie chided as she slapped his leg.

"It itches, woman!"

"Tha' just means it's healin'! Leave it be 'nd come get dinner!"

Sam grumbled and gave the wound another curious prod before sighing and following the halfling woman into the kitchen where she had prepared quite the feast for him and Sammy. She had gotten the ingredients whenever he had returned to the colony to continue work. She seemed very hesitant to go on her own, normally Sam would reassure her that the town was safe. But the past few times he's gone through and saw hanging bodies and more than a couple of fights breaking out down dark alleys, he was starting to see why she only wanted to return to the colony when he did.

But the town wasn't really at the forefront of his mind today though. Thanksgiving was just tomorrow and he still can't find a damn turkey on top of his wound not healing as fast as he would've liked. He had gone by Skeeter's to see if he might've gotten any birds in. But he was busy and the dwarf he talked to seemed kinda... off. Talked like he was reading from a script and just stood there like he was just filling up space.

Which meant that he was piss outa luck as he was sure no where else had any turkeys in. Sammy came in and loaded up a plate as Sam continued to grumble under his breath as Millie sat a plate in front of him.

"What's wrong Pa?"

"Hmm? Nothin'."

"Yer grumblin'." Millie stated.

"I always grumble. Part of gettin' older."

"Come on, what's it about?" Sammy prodded.

Sam sighed.

"Can't find a turkey for Thanksgivin'."

"Wha's a turkey?" Millie asked.

"A fat game fowl." Sam explained simply.

"Well a chicken or a duck should do it then!" Millie replied cheerily.

"It's more of a tradition to use a turkey though." Sammy explained.

"Well can you hunt some?" Millie asked.

"This time of year? Maybe. But all the places we could are places we don't really wanna be goin' to. Especially with how things are changin' 'round here." Sam said.

"Well then somethin's gonna 'ave ta give then!" Millie proclaimed.

"Yeah I know. Maybe there are some out where Jeb is?" Sam muttered to himself.

"Didn't you say he lived next ta a river now? Wha' 'bout some nice lovely fish?" Millie asked.

"Eh, again. It's more for tradition to use turkey. But at this point we may have to settle for chicken and fish." Sam conceded.

"Excitin'! So when do we leave?" Millie asked.

"Tomorrow. We'll head out first thing in the mornin'. It'll give us plenty of time to prepare for Thanksgivin' dinner."

"What about Clive?" Sammy asked.

"Shit. I'd call him if the damn cell service would decide to work again! Ugh. We'll have to head that way anyway just to leave town. We can make a detour and tell him as well as pick up a few things for dinner while we're there." Sam said.

"And we can pick up Greg." Sammy stated.

"You sure, dear?" Sam asked.

"He'll be fine. His stutterin's gotten better!" She explained.

He should hope so or he'll be spending the entire dinner barely getting through a single sentence, Sam thought.

"Alright. With that settled-"

"What about Mortimer?" Sammy asked.

"Mortimer can take a long walk off a short cliff for all I care! This is a family event!"

"He's still Jeb's friend."

"Don't remind me. We're already makin' enough detours as is!" Sam declared.

"Alright Pa." Sammy said as she returned to her meal with Sam and Millie digging into their own.

It was gonna be an interesting Thanksgiving regardless, Sammy thought. Besides, odds are that Clive'll tell Morty if he didn't already. Like a cold, he'll show up whether he's wanted or not.