Jeb's Home.

The Chief was getting ready to go on yet another walk to collect more floral samples. He had grown frustrated by his research into human magic. It seemed, on the surface at least, straightforward. Make an offering and your supplication in return for access to the god/deity power.

However, writing was far different than practice it would seem, he thought as he and some of the tribe made ready. Perhaps the offering wasn't appropriate, or perhaps he needed to recite something more specific? There are tales that said some offered blood or even living sacrifice in order to be given a sliver of their god's power.

The Chief shivered, more from the thought than the increasing cold. While it wasn't uncommon for dragons to demand the same, the kobolds themselves would rather not end up becoming fuel for the fire yet again. Not like Jeb would accept such an offering at any rate, which helped relieve his worry somewhat.

Yet it was becoming more and more likely that the offering would have to be something more than a simple piece of fruit. Then again, that's presuming that the offering was what was wrong. It could be something on Jeb's part, either consciously or not.

While Jeb has been more active and helpful of late since the Den Mother and the egg-maids were able to rouse him from his stupor. It still did not mean that he was willing to tap into that side of him so readily. Even if it appeared so on the outside.

Not that he could blame him, the Chief thought as they moved south. Knowing and accepting are two different things after all. Hopefully with time Jeb will become more and more used to and even accepting of it.

Eventually they happened upon a bushel of berries that the Chief had yet to collect from.

"Stop here and spread out. Collect anything new."

While the handful scattered outwards a ways, the Chief bent over and began to collect some of the scrumptious looking berries. He would not consume them however, Jeb had warned them that some berries were alright to eat, but some that looked similar are actually quite toxic!

While foraging he felt a small prick in his arm and he hissed and swatted at what must have been a bug. He turned to look at the presumed bite and found a small dart no bigger than a leaf. Unlike the darts of wood and bone the kobolds used though, this one was metal and glass. Whatever liquid that was inside was gone now.

"Strange. Interesting, but strange." The Chief stated as he shrugged and put the dart into his satchel as he looked around for where it might have come from.

About 30 feet away, a man dressed in a ghillie suit watched and waited for the tranq to take effect. He waited, and waited, and waited. Yet the kobold, other than being a little sluggish, though he wasn't sure if it was from the dart or the cold, remained upright and continued on his foraging.

Eventually he had to back out as the other kobolds were returning and he didn't want to be spotted. He slowly crept away through the underbrush and back towards the observation post.

Once he returned to the small encampment, a single blind up a nearby tree and a couple tents, he went and picked up a walkie-talkie.

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"Dr. Obermann?"

"Yes? Is it done? Were you able to secure any samples?" The voice of the doctor crackled over.

"Negative. The tranq had no effect on the target."

The radio was silent for a long moment before Dr. Obermann's voice cracked through.

"Did you use the appropriate volume? Did you take into account the possibility that they might have a tolerance against it?"

"Well, they're rather small so we didn't want to risk killing one by accident so we used a smaller-"

"IDIOT!!!-" The walkie, thankfully, broke after a short stream of curses followed.

The Chief meanwhile was still going about his foraging trip, unaware of what was transpiring. Him and those with him continued on a ways further. Much they passed as they had already collected them, other than a few things they couldn't collect during their last outing.

They were collecting some fungi and moss growing by a trickle of a stream when the kobolds heard a sound to their left. They looked up and beheld something the Chief only ever heard about in some stories and legends collected from the remains of books during raids. A Amber Stag!

The majestic creature was a beauty to behold, thought the kobolds. Standing proudly at almost 8ft from where his front hooves were planted to his 6 point antler tips. His hide was a rich earthy brown and his eyes sparkled like tree sap.

Then came his namesake. Hooves and antlers were veined with golden amber! On his 6 point antlers the thick fluid bubbled and formed nodes that glowed along them and even trailed down in thin shining beaded strings along the antlers that moved in the breeze.

The creature gave a deep bugle as it snorted and stamped at the kobolds who, understandably, backed far enough away for the stag to be satisfied they were no longer an immediate threat. Then they watched as a herd emerged from the darkness of the woods and joined their leader as they licked at the stream nearby as he kept ever vigilant watch.

"Fascinating!" The Chief whispered as he and the others gazed at the amber stags. There were a dozen at least in this herd. The lead stag with three other, smaller, bucks and maybe six does and a couple fawns barely a summer old. All were beginning to spread out, either licking at the cool refreshing stream or moss, or foraging themselves on the greenery that remained during this time of year.

The fawns danced and played in one of the more open areas while the others took shifts foraging and aiding the stag in watching for potential threats. Eventually they got enough of their fill and the stag bugled once more and called the herd away to search for more foraging grounds.

The kobolds just stared at the glorious creatures as they faded into the gloom of the woods. Nothing remained that said that they were ever there other than glowing beads of amber from the stag's antlers that fell upon the ground. The Chief and the others stalked forwards and gazed at the glowing beads that were no bigger than clothes buttons. They quickly looked around for any sign of the herd before quickly falling upon the little treasures that quickly found new homes within the satchels of the kobolds.

Then they beat a hasty retreat at the Chief's behest. While it was an amazing thing to witness. All the tales he's heard of the elusive, some would say mythical, creatures said that they were only found in the deepest parts of wood elf territory. The stories regularly told of brave hunters, and foolish poachers, entering deep within and braving the wood elves wrath to collect the amber beads that were said to regularly fall from the antlers as the stags moved about. Nobles were said to pay entire fortunes if they were to capture a living stag! What was a fortune when it would be easily regained from the amber jewels that the stag regularly provided?

Few were rarely seen again. Wood elves were not ones to tolerate such trespass or insult against them. Seeking to hunt the sacred creatures was among the highest and demanded their harshest punishments. That part, however, didn't survive their master's fiery attacks. So the kobolds ran quick back to the safety of home before they found out first hand what dreaded fate awaited them should any wood elves seize them.

While it was possible given the kobold's own form of arrival that they were here on their own. It was also just as much of a possibility that there were elves watching them from the darkness of the trees as they made due haste back home, flora, treasure, and a new story in hand.

The kobolds arrived back home not long after. Bags full of useful flora for the tribe to cultivate within their burrow. The Chief handed the bag off to the others as they headed into the hill where they would distribute the safe food while putting any poisonous ones with the room they used to cultivate such toxic plants and the others will be brought to Jeb to check before being sorted.

The Chief kept the few beads of amber that they managed to collect though.

"Perhaps these will make for a fitting offering?"

His research did say that treasure made of gold and jewels were also used. Yet another thing that this world and their own dragons had in common it seemed. But that was a thought process for another time, he thought as he fixed his welcome mat poncho and headed within the home to find Jeb. If nothing else, the beads themselves would no doubt be worth a pretty sum and should help even if they aren't sufficient as offerings.

As he was beginning to head into the basement however, he heard the telltale call of Jeb's truck as it rolled into its place. So he turned from his path and went to seek him out.