Somewhere, West Virginia, USA.

"Alright! Fire her up!" Jeb called to Clive.

Clive switched on the ignition of the Mini-Ex. The small land mover roared to life as a plum of black smoke puffed out of the exhaust pipe. Skeeter watched with a grin as the old CAT purred with life once again.

"Yup, she'll do you proud and then some! Old girl was made back when things were actually made with pride and love! She'll keep rollin' for YEARS to come!" Skeeter beamed as he patted the side of the steel machine.

Hamish watched wide-eyed at the excavator. While it wasn't near the size of its larger sisters it would still move the very earth itself with little issue! To him the only things that could do as claimed were those that knew magic, and creatures of such size that it would be trivial for them to take apart the ground beneath his feet!

He still recalled when the giant, even though he was smaller than those he's heard in stories, gouged out the ground itself with little problem! Yet here stood three humans that talked about doing so with such ease that it boggled the mind!

The machine was of decent size sure. But to move such amounts of earth? Hamish balked at the idea! Hamish was getting adjusted to the idea of Earth Human machines and technology, but it was still something to hear such claims!

"It'll do just fine! Thanks Skeeter! What do I owe you?" Clive asked as he hopped out of the CAT and reached for his wallet. While his money was a little tight he should have enough for whatever lowball amount Skeeter asked for.

"It's fine! Its for a good cause and I trust you not to take her on a joyride!" Skeeter countered as he pushed away Clive's offer, and wallet.

"You sure? I don't wanna just-"

"I said its fine Clive! You're practically family, so take her and put her to work! It'll do her some good to see actual action again rather than just be used to piss around with beer cans!"

Clive reluctantly put his wallet back while Jeb hooked a chain up between the excavator and Clive's car.

"Don't know why you bother to argue with him, you know he's just goin' to give it to you."

"Yeah, but its better to ask and make sure." Clive countered as he hopped back up into the machine.

"Come on lil man, we'll get you fixed up to drive!" Skeeter said as he pulled Hamish towards Clive's car.

"Wha'?!"

Skeeter lifted and placed the confused Hamish on the driver's seat, which now had a couple of phone books on it, while Jeb tied wood blocks to the brake and gas.

"Alright. So its pretty easy! Right peddle is the gas, you push on it to go faster. You shouldn't need it with Clive pullin' but you never know. The left is brake. It'll stop you from movin'. THAT is what you want your foot situated for this. The wheel in front of you controls where you move. Pull left to go left, right for right. Easy!"

Hamish nodded, unsure of what it was that he was being told. He gave a hesitant push on the brake. It squeaked slightly as the brake pads gripped. Then he tested the gas peddle.

"NONONONO!"

CRUNCH!

The car lunged forward and dinged into the excavator. It missed the treads, barely, but the front bumper still got a good dent in it from the body of the machine.

"What was that?"

"Nothin'!" Skeeter and Jeb called.

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"So, just ignore that right peddle and keep your foot over the left one. Alright?" Skeeter asked as he leaned over and pulled the keys out and sat them on the dash. Hamish, embarrassed and scared, nodded.

With that settled Clive rumbled away towards home, with a jittery Hamish steering his car behind him.

Jeb watched his friend leave for a minute before he re-entered the store for his own list of stuff. Battery powered heaters. A string of lights for the burrows. That should be better than lighting torches. An extension cord would be all they'd need and they could hook up to his home for lights!

He also got some more snacks. Some blankets, some basic medicine for the Chief and Ruby. He planned on some chickens but it seems they're gone for the year. Maybe some of the farmers might have a few?

Another day he thought as he was rung up. Then a thought occurred to him. The kobolds have been fighting for so long with what were pretty much just sharpened sticks. Maybe he should fix that. While most, if not all, of his weapons would be too big for 'em. Skeeter could smith up something more size appropriate.

"Hey Skeeter?"

"Yeah?"

"You still have stuff for gunsmithin'?" Jeb asked as he walked out to his truck after being rung up. Skeeter following to see him off.

"Yeah, haven't used 'em in years though. Why?"

"You know that friend that was with me the other day?"

"You mean that lil lizard fella?"

"He's not a-" Jeb paused as Skeeter cocked a eyebrow at him.

"Alright, fine! Yeah. The lil lizard fella." Jeb relented.

"Yeah, what about 'em?"

Jeb loaded his stuff up in the bed of his truck.

"I was wonderin' if you might be able to make some kiddie sized rifles for 'em?"

Skeeter chewed on that thought for a moment.

"I'll need some measurements just to be more sure, not gonna' waste materials eyeballin' it! But yeah, I could fix somthin' up! Swing on by with the fella and I'll take some measurements!"

"Thanks Skeeter!" Jeb said as he thanked Skeeter and said goodbye before leaving back towards home.

While the Chief might not be in any shape to leave just yet. He should bring the Trap Master and Ruby along. The Trap Master because the rifles would technically be for him and his skirmishers, and Ruby because Ruby. Plus she was most likely going to be the only female kobold that would go with him willingly to meet someone they never met to be fussed over.

The ordeal with the goblins proved that firepower was still king. So if he can start bringing the kobolds into the 21st century, in terms of weaponry, the better off they'll be.

Their fighting style works fine. Asymmetrical warfare has proven that guerilla fighting with modern weapons are hell to deal with. So with some rifles and some training in IEDs they'll be fine come hell or high water! Which should help limit casualties in the next conflict.

Jeb wasn't a fool. If its happened once it will happen again. He just hopes that they'll be armed and ready for WHEN it happens.

He pulled into his, still unfinished, carport. Maybe he should finish that later? Him and a couple of other kobolds rushed over and aided Jeb in hauling his stuff. They've grown used to his noisy truck. Though they still gave it a wide berth when it was on.

He brought a couple heaters into the basement where almost half the kobolds still stayed. Slapping some batteries in he flicked them on and they hummed to life. The warm orange glow made the kobolds fearful and skeptical. But then the warmth reached them and before long several handfuls had taken spots basking around the warm heaters.

Jeb dropped by to see the Chief. He was situated over by the stove with several other wounded kobolds. Nothing serious. Minor accidents from tunneling, or out hunting. He was looking better. A good chunk of his scales were still gone and in their place was raw pinkish flesh. But over the days since the end of the war he has made a steady recovery. While he would still be pretty bare for a week more he should make a full recovery.

"Master Jeb! How are you?" The Chief called as he sat from his padded spot. Jeb didn't really have much for the wounded to lay on other than ratty old blankets. But it was better than nothing.

"I should be askin' YOU that!" Jeb replied as he handed the Chief a couple bags of Trail-Mix and some bandages and disinfectant.

The Chief chuckled.

"Between you and the Den Mother, I am well looked after! You'll make a wonderful father!"

Jeb chuckled sadly himself.

"Yeah. That won't be for some time yet!"

"Oh? Did something happen to the Den Mother?" The Chief asked worried.

Jeb looked at the Chief with confusion.

"No? She's fine."

"Oh that's good! I was worried something might have happened with her eggs!"

"But... humans and kobolds can't have kids. Can they?" Jeb asked.

"Well, it hasn't been confirmed that such a union could result in kobolds. But you might be able to!"

"What do you mean? I'm human." Jeb said certainly.

"Well of course you're n-" The Chief paused as the sight of Ruby, who had snuck down when she heard Jeb's voice, giving him pleading eyes flitted the corner of his vision.

He gave her an admonishing look before clearing his throat.

"What I mean to say, is that the Den Mother probably didn't want to raise your hopes that your children would be anything other than salamanders. While they are great creatures they are just that. Creatures, barely above wild animals. Most kobold mothers are content with the knowledge that their offspring will be salamanders. But some aren't so strong willed. They become sad and distant, the thought of your children never becoming more than basic beasts of burden weighs heavy on them."

Jeb got a melancholy look on his face.

"Oh."

"I'm sure the Den Mother wanted nothing more than to protect you."

"Yeah, it never occurred to me till just now... Are you sure that Ruby is pregnant?"

The Chief gave a side-eyed look at the nervous and guilty Ruby.

"Yes. I can confirm that she is expecting a clutch of eggs."

Her face fell.

"But?"

The Chief looked towards Jeb now.

"But I wouldn't get my hopes up that they will be anything quite what you would expect."

That's, a lot to unpack, Jeb thought. To hear that you'll be a father. But then to find out that your kids would be pretty much literal wild animals. That was something Jeb was having trouble wrapping his head around. A clawed hand landed on his knee.

The Chief looked up to him with sad eyes before looking towards the Den Mother hiding out of Jeb's sight.

"Sometimes what we get isn't what we hoped for."

Guilt filled her face as she shuffled away from the judging gaze of the Chief and the sad aura from Jeb, who was taking a moment to collect himself.

Jeb shook his head.

"Well, no matter what I'll still love 'em. Even if I have to treat 'em like dogs! Hell, a salamander is just a big scaly dog! I can deal with that!"

The Chief smiled as Jeb got up and left to finish his task of setting up heaters and lights in the burrows. The Chief wished him the best, and hoped he was wrong.