Sam & Sammy's.

"Sammy? Are you home?" Sam called as he cracked open the front door to his house and peered inside like a teenager trying to creep back home after sneaking out late at night.

When Sam heard nothing in response, he breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door fully and walked into his home, with a pint-sized guest not far behind him. The halfling, who he was intimately familiar with, trotted into the home with wide eyes and a grin as she cradled a basket full of potatoes and other vegetables for a nice hearty stew.

"This is yer 'ome Sam?"

Sam coughed into his hand.

"Yup, my youngest and mine."

"Oh? Where is tha wee dear?" The halfling asked excitedly as she peered around the human furniture in search of Sammy.

Sam sighed sadly.

"Probably out with Greg."

"Oh? Is he her suitor?"

"You could say that." Sam muttered as he took the basket from the halfling, who's name he learned was Millie AFTER their drunken moment during the festival, who wandered around and peered at the worn furniture. The Jeffersons weren't well off, even if Sam was payed well for his position as foreman at the railyard and even now that he was being paid in literal gold and silver. Their home had seen better days and their furniture had more than a few worn spots that were patched up over the years.

Sam never cared for the newer stuff, if it was still holding together and not falling apart it was still good and that was good enough for him. Though that didn't mean he didn't try and give Jeb and Sammy the best he could. New(ish) clothes that weren't worn-down hand-me-downs. A new toy for Jeb every other Christmas or a new dress for Sammy on her birthday.

But nothing for Sam himself. Which he didn't mind. Most of the new stuff he did buy ended up needing to be replaced far too often for his liking, and trying to fix it himself ended up voiding the warranties. It didn't seem to matter to Millie though as she looked at the "vintage" things and knick-knacks he had on the fireplace mantle.

She ooh'ed and aww'ed at the tacky stuffed animals and the old record player that hadn't seen use in many a year. She slid a jackalope lamp off the table and stared at the bizarre creature.

"Wha' a queer thin'!"

Sam chuckled a little. She sounded like his grandpa when he saw colored TV for the first time! It made him feel a little less old. Which he wasn't really concerned all that much about, he always worried over Sammy and Jeb that his age wasn't on the front burner. It wasn't until he started talking to Millie and how worried she seemed about him! She was making it out like he was about to keel over any day now!

Sure 56 doesn't make him a spring chicken, but she seemed insistent that they spend some time together! Especially when she learned that he only had Jeb and Sammy as his only children! No matter how much he tried to tell her that he was fine and completely healthy for someone his age, she would have none of it!

So that was how he found himself having a luncheon date with the halfling that had torn her interest away from the oddities and ogling his painting of Dogs Playing Poker and made her way over to where Sam was beginning to prepare the lunch. WAS being the word as she dragged over a step stool and shooed him off.

"Go and rest dear! You've been 'ard at work 'nd require rest!"

"It's my house and you're a guest here! It's only proper that I be the one to feed you." Sam protested.

"Shush! I'll 'ear none o' it! Go 'nd rest! I'll whip up a nice 'earty stew 'nd a lovely pint ta wash it down!" She declared.

Sam made to protest some more but was beaten back by a fierce glare and a rather sharp looking carrot. So he sighed and took a seat on his recliner and pulled out his phone and tried to call Jeb. Though just like every other time he's tried, his call was dropped before it could even ring once.

"Damn thing."

"Wha's tha'?" Millie called as she pulled a bundle of sticks and kindling out of the basket and placed them on top of the stove before placing one of Sam's pots upon the bundle and then dragging out a bucket to haul water from the sink to the pot.

"Nothin', just can't get a call to go through is all." Sam said as he tried to send a text but barely had enough service for even that.

He cursed before discarding the phone aside as Millie set alight the bundle of wood and kindling, earning herself a small flame to which she fanned until it was a decent flame for it to boil the pot as she began to prepare the potatoes and veg.

Sam sniffed as he smelled smoke.

"Are you alright in there?"

"O' course! I know 'ow ta work a stove!" Millie declared with a tone of insult in her voice as she opened a couple windows to let the smoke out even as she grumbled about poor ventilation in the kitchen.

-----

Skeeter's General Store.

Skeeter groaned as he stretched from his work. Grinding away at a barrel of a hunting rifle was somewhat relaxing but it got old after about the 10th one today. He got up and went over to where he had some jerky stashed as one of his dwarven apprentices took over.

He rubbed his aching neck as he chewed on the tough piece of beef/pork/???. At least the business was good, Skeeter thought as he looked over to the growing mountain of coins he had accumulated since he started his partnership with the dwarves.

"Now if only I could get ahold of my bank to talk about conversion." Skeeter grumbled as he left the dwarves and gnomes to their work and headed to the front of the store to check on things.

Things were little better, despite his influx of wealth. Most of his goods that were perishable had long since been thrown out. He had little food left on the shelves that wasn't heavily saturated with a dozen different preservatives and salt. The rest of his general goods were dwindling, but were being restocked by various goods of dwarven make and use.

Picks, axes, general mining gear that he's had stocked but never really sold since the Duvals were pretty much the only ones interested in mining around the area. Not much money to be had trying to mine iron or coal by yourself when you can get paid for just working at the coal mine.

But now that the mine was closed and the dwarves had moved into the trainyard and were busy terraforming the land around it, he was finding a boom in business from it as what little he had was quickly bought and sold, and with his partnership with the dwarves, just as quickly restocked as they offered their own crafted goods. For a percentage of the profits and a discount naturally.

This has led to his store being less and less supplied with general goods and him technically being more specialized. Which didn't bother him, or his customers too much.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Skeeter turned to the dwarf that was manning the register.

"How's business?"

"Well met!" The dwarf replied.

"Still nothin' new?"

"How are ya?!" The dwarf continued cheerfully.

His "translator" poked out from one of the side isles and walked over.

"Sorry 'bout tha' Master Skeeter."

"It's fine. And what did I say about the whole "Master" thing?"

"But it's only proper one o' yer skills be referred to as such! All craftsman worthy o' bein' called such should!" The dwarf declared.

Skeeter sighed.

"Has anyone came today or not?"

"Oh aye! Those lads tha' were wantin' ta scout out tha hills behind us were here!"

"Really? Where are they now?" Skeeter asked as he looked around for them.

"They left not long ago. Said they'd meet you up there." The dwarf relayed.

"Fuck!" Skeeter cursed as he spat out the chewy bit of jerky and hurried out the store door.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!" Skeeter continued to curse as he couldn't spot the dwarves down the road.

He quickly got into his truck and hissed as it failed to turn once or twice before revving to life. He stepped on the peddle as he sped over towards Sam's. As he neared he was more worried when he failed to see the dwarves on his way over, and the smoke coming from the house! He screeched to a halt and ran over towards the door and flung it open. Only to see Sam sitting unbothered and a short woman standing over a boiling pot and a open fire on the stove.

"Sam?! Are you alright?!"

"Yeah, why?" Sam asked with a hint of concern at Skeeter's frantic state.

"You do know your house has smoke comin' out the windows right?"

Sam twisted in his chair and peered at the halfling smiling and humming a tune as she poured the chopped and sliced bits of potatoes and veg into the boiling pot. Sam turned back towards Skeeter.

"Apparently they like the old fashioned way of cookin'."

"Who's tha' Sam? 'Nother guest joinin' us?" The halfling called from the smoky kitchen.

"No! Just a friend visitin' for a minute!" Sam called as he and Skeeter left to go outside.

Once out Sam quickly tip toed over to where the gas valve was and quickly shut it off.

"Better safe than sorry."

"Yeah, but we have other things to worry about right now." Skeeter said as he looked up the road towards Jeb's.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Like those dwarves that just went up to Jeb's without us." Skeeter replied.

"Shit! Do you think we can get there in time before somethin' happens?" Sam asked worried as he peered up the road.

-----

Jeb's Home.

The kobold skirmisher's head swiveled around as he continued his watch above his home. He pulled the thick jacket that he had traded a few squirrels for tighter around his scaled body. The cold air bit deep up here. The kobolds didn't like the cold. It was a far cry from their tropical home.

The warm, humid, jungle that was thick around their mountain. The refreshing breeze from the sea that would blow in through some of the passages. The calls of the wild birds and colorful apes that made the jungle home along with the more silent snakes and cats that lurked within shadows.

He missed his former home. But it was gone now, and they had to make do in this new one. Even if it was colder, and they had to deal with far more people threatening them than before.

"Goblins, humans, elves, dwarves, gnomes." The kobold rattled off in an effort to keep him awake and alert as well as keep tabs on those that wronged them.

The tribe couldn't afford to seek vengeance against all that wronged them, the list was too great. But it didn't stop individual kobolds from keeping tallies, which they took during the raids they would do with their former draconic master.

He shook his head to keep him awake. He had been on watch for some time now and his replacement was dragging his feet. He shifted his rifle to his other shoulder and switched his leaning spot.

Cold, boredom, sleep. He didn't want to fail the Trap Master, or Master Jeb, especially after the others had failed to spot the halfling woman that somehow managed to get past them and made it to the door of their home, and was so close to being a threat to the Den Mother! He wouldn't fail them! But it was hard to hold to that claim when he was running low on energy and he had to dig his claws into his scales once or twice just to snap him awake!

Then his eyes saw movement. Within moments his energy was renewed at the thought of a threat nearby.

He leveled his rifle against a branch and peered through the scope, and towards where he saw movement. His throat tightened and his heart skipped a beat as he saw dwarves! Almost a dozen of the burly mountain folk were marching up the road towards their home! They carried with them axes, shovels, and picks! A couple even carried blunderbusses!

The kobold hissed a warning to the other lookouts nearby and they took positions and made ready to drive back these invaders from their home! The kobold was about to pull the trigger when he recalled the Trap Master's instructions.

"Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe..."

-----

CRACK!

"Does that answer your question?" Skeeter asked as the two men hurried to his truck.

Sam called out towards the house a hurried explanation for Millie as he and Skeeter burned rubber up towards Jeb's home. He didn't hear the reply she had, the only thing he could hear was the sounds of his heart hammering, the engine revving, and the sounds of gunfire that got louder the closer they got. The truck sped past a couple of dwarves that were running back down the hill, but the rest were still farther up ahead.

"Oh please be alright." Sam prayed as they got closer.

Skeeter skidded to a halt as a shot ricocheted off the roof of his truck. Him and Sam both jumped out, but the shot wasn't meant for them it seemed. The two men saw a few wounded dwarves just up ahead crouched and hiding around a few trees and a divot in the hill that they would peek out of from time to time and fire a couple of shots from their blunderbusses.

"What the hell do you think your doin'?!" Skeeter yelled over the gunfire.

"We were on our way up ta talk ta tha feller you told us about! Figured we'd get things started! Then those scaled buggers shot at us! Holgrum here lost a eye ta tha wee devils!" The dwarf shouted and pointed to a dwarf that was holding a piece of leather to his right eye.

Shots continued to ring out as bullets sailed overhead or splintered wood and bark nearby. Sam peeked over and could see the lizardfolk starting to amass for a charge against the dwarves! He had to stop this before it got even bloodier. He stood with his arms raised.

"JEB! IT'S YOUR PA! I'M HERE WIT-"

But he didn't get far before a bullet bounced off the thick skull of a dwarf and ripped across his left cheek and ear! He fell with a cry as Skeeter dragged him back to safety. The dwarves looked furious.

"Don't worry lads! Our boys will be back with reinforcements from tha clan and we'll drive those scaly buggers from their holes!"

The dwarves cheered and threw out battle cries and taunts as well as a few more shots of the blunderbusses. But they grew quiet as the ground beneath their feet rumbled, and the shots from above ceased.

"What tha devils?" One of the dwarves said.

Then the ground split apart as dark vines burst forth and wrapped around the dwarves, their thorns sinking deep despite the thick flesh, clothes, and armor. Sam and Skeeter both looked up as the dwarves cried out in pain and agony. Just outside of the house was Jeb, and his eyes were nothing more than ghostly flame that seemed to freeze the soul just by looking at them, and his face was marred by a vicious snarl as his face began to crack to reveal bleached white bone.

-----

Thieves

Pests

Roaches

His mother and Casius' words echoed in Jeb's mind as he glowered down at the spot the dwarves were crouched behind. He was resting when he heard the shots, at first he tried not to worry. Maybe it was a hare or something little they were shooting at? But then the shots got more frequent, and there was returning fire.

Something within him snapped. Was it his Ma coming back for revenge? His kin under her thrall? Was it the G-Men? Goblins? He didn't know. What he did know was that he wasn't going to let the kobolds risk themselves while they were supposed to be under HIS protection! Especially Ruby. The thought of someone, or something, coming here and taking her away made his blood boil, and his vision to sharpen. He barely even registered getting up from his nap before he found himself standing out front and watching these vermin threaten those he cared about!

So just like back on the hill. He acted without thought. Just pure instinct. Fight or flight, or in his case, fight or fight. It felt as natural as breathing for him, he thought as he tapped into that power. He felt the dark vines snaking through the ground from where he stood to where the dwarves crouched. He felt their fear and pain as the barbs and thorns cut long and deep.

Within his mind he was in two different places. Here as he grasped the dwarves in his thorned grasp, and in another, where he held Dan Mathers. His blood spilt from the hole in his chest as Jeb held him high. His friends had fled the second he had slammed his thorned claw into Dan's chest. But they weren't important. His beasts would see to them, Jeb had thought as the gloom and mist surrounded them. The two wouldn't escape his wrath. Just like Dan didn't, and just like the dwarves wouldn't now. In both instances Jeb felt only one thing.

Power.

Jeb grinned, he LOVED that feeling! He did years ago when he felt Dan's life drip down his arm and soak the Earth, watched as his soul left him and formed into a ghostly ball that wailed in anguish and agony, and he felt it now as the thorns dug deep into dwarven flesh which tore and wept crimson as Jeb pulled.

It was barely a thought. But it was enough to elicit yells of terror and agony from the dwarves as they found their clothes and armor shredded and torn the same as their very hide was. They wanted this land so bad? Fine. They can have it, he thought as the ground softened and the dwarves cried out as they were pulled into the dark earth they so coveted and sought comfort in.

Gloom and mist began to appear as he began to drag them into his abyss. The forms of his wicker beasts flickering into view of mortalkind as his raw power bled and spilled forth into our world along with the ghostly souls of the three boys from long ago that cried out in agony and wept for release. It would not last long, he wasn't that strong. But it would be enough to see to it that they NEVER threaten them again! Their souls will join Dan and his friends! Their anguished screams will ring out as haunted warnings to all that this was HIS home and that these were HIS fam-

Everything stopped when Jeb caught sight of Sam, his father, who was bleeding and dazed. Jeb's power began to fade as he watched Skeeter drag his father away, but not before Jeb saw the look of sadness and horror on his father's face before he was pulled into a truck.

Jeb looked down to his hand, now a thorned claw. The same one that he had used to swipe at his mother not long ago with. At his feet the grass, yellowed by the weather, had turned a ghostly blue that swayed from an unseen wind while the brown earth was a rich deep black. Around him where the gloom and mist had formed and touched, the bark of trees were blackened and the leaves were all an ethereal blue color. The ones that remained on the trees and bushes seemed to glow and shift as if they weren't even there. Like phantoms caught between this world and the next.

He breathed in, he followed the habit he had for when his anger got the better of him.

"One, two, three-"

The more he counted, the calmer he got, and the more of his power dissipated. The wicker beasts and the soul wisps fading from mortal view and the mist and gloom not long after. The only thing that remained that would be proof that something happened at all, was the tainted land ten feet around him.

He could hear the cries of pain and moans of terror from the dwarves from afar. He turned back to where the kobolds had been ready to charge. There was a hint of fear in their eyes as some slid their eyes towards where the wicker beasts were. But it was mostly... disappointment, that he saw. Disappointment in what, Jeb wondered. In him? That he used his power against the dwarves? Or was it because he didn't continue?

He knew the dwarves and kobolds didn't have a good history, or really anything did with the lizardfolk. But would they really want to see the dwarves punished in such a manner, Jeb thought as he felt an intense wave of exhaustion hit him. He turned to the kobolds and spoke as his energy and vision faded fast.

"Capture them. Alive. Have plan. They'll help."

He was fading fast, he didn't stick around long enough to find out if they even understood him. He barely got inside his house and onto the couch before consciousness left him, and his mind was filled with restless dreams of blood and death.