Somewhere, West Virginia, USA.

The human has yet to return, the Trap Master thought as he, the Chief, and the Den Mother waited outside looking up at the mountain. He didn't take the revelation particularly well and had left them as he ascended the mountain to confront his mother about what he called her "mind games". It had been several hours and the sun had begun to dip to the west and he had yet to come back.

Neither he nor the Chief knew what he was talking about, but the Den Mother seemed quite shaken by the announcement. The Trap Master wasn't as worried as Ruby seemed to be though. He had things to take care of that took priority. While he was worried for the mental health of Jeb, he had a tribe to take care of.

It had been some time since he saw Skeeter, perhaps he and some of his skirmishers could pay him a visit and see about the progress on their new weapons. A plan/distraction in place, the Trap Master called for some of the skirmishers to group with him and follow him to Skeeter's shop.

"Where are you going Trap Master?" The Chief asked when he noticed that he was leaving.

"I am going to visit the human Skeeter to see about some weapons Jeb wanted made for us."

"Oh!? I will accompany you!" The Chief stated as he quickly secured his welcome mat poncho and satchel before following along. Him and the Trap Master cast a last glance in the direction of Ruby as she stood by the cellar door looking up at the mountain with sad eyes.

"Do you think she will be alright?" The Chief asked.

The Trap Master didn't answer, he only glanced once more behind them at Ruby and the mountain she stared at. He, the Chief, the skirmishers, and a handful of salamanders that followed curious as to where they were going, left the heavy air about the cabin.

The small group of redscaled lizards followed the path down the hill. They didn't need any help finding where they needed to go. Both the Chief and Trap Master had accompanied Jeb to Skeeter's and knew where to go.

They spotted Skeeter's General Store as they followed the road as it shifted from dirt/gravel to asphalt. As they followed the road however they started to notice something. Usually when they came with Jeb to town, it was fairly quiet. Even during the middle of the day. Now, however, it was alive with activity, and they soon realized why.

The group of lizards stopped near a lamppost as they watched as hundreds if not thousands of bodies milled around downtown. They had yet to reach this part of town though. While they were leery of the townsfolk they could see the telltale signs of people they were all too familiar with. Elves, dwarves, and gnomes. According to Jeb these didn't exist in their world in anything more than fantasy stories and fairytales.

But they looked very real to the kobolds right about now. The many humans wearing clothes the kobolds were familiar with didn't help their nerves either.

"Quick! To the human Skeeter!"

At the Trap Master's command the group made haste to Skeeter's. Hoping the human's friendship with Jeb was enough to shelter them from the people that would no doubt seek their demise!

The bell dinged on the door as the lizards rushed through the door in haste. It was shut firmly just as they heard a shout from outside. The kobolds and salamanders took up spots to hide from. As the seconds ticked and there was no angry mob coming in to drag them off, they all sighed in relief. Much to Skeeter's amusement.

"Can I help you folks?"

His voice startled them all, causing them to yelp in surprise, knocking over various gardening equipment or shelves of snacks. Once the Trap Master and Chief realized who it was, told the rest that he was a friend and to be calm.

"There are new people in the town and we didn't wish to be seen." The Chief stated as he and a couple others poked their heads up to peer out the windows at the increasingly large group of bodies.

"Yeah, I noticed that to. Not sure who they are or where they're from though." Skeeter stated as he watched along with the rest.

"Which makes our being here more important." The Trap Master stated.

"The rifles." Skeeter said in understanding. He moved over and flipped the sign on the door from OPEN to CLOSED and led the kobolds to his workshop. The salamanders split between following the group and searching the store for snacks.

"You're a bit early and they're not all done yet. BUT, I got a few that should tide you over for now." Skeeter said as he led them over to his workbench where a few sets of rifles laid.

To the kobolds they looked like works of art. But to any human, they would just look like a kiddie sized Winchester Repeater.

"Keeping their profile while getting them to fit with your measurements were the biggest pain in the ass, but the customer wants what the customer wants."

"These'll do nicely!" The Trap Master proclaimed as he picked up a rifle with reverence more befitting a holy artifact than a lever-action.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

While the Trap Master and a few others collected their rifles, the Chief and some of the others made their way over to a set of longer hunting rifles.

"What about these?"

Skeeter looked to where they were looking at the set of longer bolt action rifles.

"Those? I mean, sure? They're a bit big for you folks though."

Despite his words a few of the skirmishers took no pause in bringing down the rifles. Skeeter was right, they were much too cumbersome and heavy for the smaller statured kobolds. But that didn't stop their enthusiasm as they quickly formed a sort of "weapons team" stance. One kobold would steady the end of the barrel while the other would operate the weapon itself.

It reminded Skeeter of old photos of Afghani jezails. Though instead of a stand, a little red lizardman steadied the barrel.

"Maybe I could get a couple revolvers for you lot. Never say no to extra protection."

Skeeter dug out a few old Colt naval revolvers for the kobolds. They weren't in the best of condition but he trusts the lizardmen, under Jeb's supervision, would be fine with cleaning and maintaining them.

All in all, they looked like a anachronistic nightmare. Fantasy lizardfolk dressed like they walked out of the post-apocalypse wielding weapons from the wild west.

Before they could properly enjoy their new armaments, the bell to the shop dinged. Prompting the lizardfolk to perk up in alarm.

"Stay here."

As Skeeter said this he grabbed a sawed-off and held it behind his back as he left the kobolds in his workshop. When the workshop door opened he heard voices.

"I told you I saw them come in here!"

Skeeter came out to a group of people. One was tall with pointed ears, two more were short and bearded. Four others were regular looking humans, though they wore clothes that made them look like they just walked out of a fantasy convention.

"Can I help you folks?"

Twice in one day his voice startled someone. The group jumped at the sound of his voice. As they realized it was a human they visibly calmed. One of the dwarves spoke up.

"Are you tha owner?"

"That I am."

"We're newcomers to this world, and this town. As we were familiarizing ourselves with it, we spotted some kobolds rush inside your shop!" The Elf stated.

"Kobolds?" Skeeter asked genuinely confused. Jeb never mentioned what they were called other than 'lizardfolk'.

"Short scaled little devils! Servants of dragons!" One of the fantasy extras said.

"Thievin' lil buggers too!" One of the dwarves added, to the agreement of the rest.

"Hmm... Nope. Ain't seen no-one fittin' that description." Skeeter stated.

The group grumbled.

"Knew you were seein' things!"

CRASH!

The group, Skeeter included, turned their heads towards the noise, and the large salamander that had just knocked over a snack stand and was trying to get at the gummy candy bags.

"THERE!" The call was sounded and the group surged towards the salamander. Skeeter barely had time to open his mouth before they had stormed past the front and ran down the isle, startling the rest of the salamanders out of their little hidey holes in surprise.

"It's a infestation!" One of the group called as they all began to pick up gardening equipment as makeshift weapons.

"WAIT!" But Skeeter's call fell on deaf ears as the group sought out the salamanders with single-minded intent.

"HERES ONE!" A call came as one of the dwarves stabbed and swiped at one of the salamanders with some sheers as it ran through boxes of cereal. The mess of toasted oats and sugary marshmallows causing the would-be exterminator to flail about as breakfast grains rained down on him!

"COME OUT YOU VERMIN!" The elf cried as he swiped a rake across bottles of pop. Causing the fizzy drinks to fall, fizz, spray and fly through the air. Coating the store, the group, and the salamanders in sticky soda.

He wasn't sure who was winning in this little "fight", Skeeter thought. But one thing was sure. They were making a mess of his store! He was half-tempted to let it continue given how utterly incompetent the group was in trying, and absolutely failing, to even catch the salamanders.

Course it was at that thought that one of the humans managed to grab a salamander tail and dragged it out before the group with a triumphant cry. The group surged on the salamander with zeal in their eyes and raised their weapons to end the lizard.

"STOP!" A voice called out. The group stopped and turned to see one of the dwarves, eyes wide, shaking, and with his hands in the air, and a double-barrel sawed-off planted to the back of his head.

"I think you folks oughta leave now. Sign says closed anyhows." Skeeter stated with a calm voice.

"Are you mad! This is-"

"My store. And last I checked I could allow whoever I wanted in. And keep whoever I want out. Right now that includes you folks."

The sound of commotion and talking made the kobolds come out of the workshop and had taken position behind Skeeter. The group stared at them and cried out and was about to rush them too, if not for the pleading of their fellow. Who still had a gun planted to his thick skull.

"You would treat us so ill yet show such hospitality to these vermin?!"

"Only vermin I see are you bunch breakin' into my store and upsettin' my friends."

One of the humans sniffed scornfully.

"He calls them his friends! What kind of self-respecting mortal would dare associate with these monsters?!"

"The kind that sticks with his friends and doesn't care for strangers tellin' him otherwise."

"He's just one man! We can rush him and-" One of the group said. But before the sentence could finish the sawed-off was raised to the roof and let off a deafening boom. Scaring the group, raining plaster down, and earning a new puddle on the floor.

"LETITGOLETITGOLETITGO!!!!" The dwarven hostage pleaded desperately. While the others might be scared because of what they THOUGHT it could do, the dwarves of the group KNEW what a weapon like it could do. Back in their world it was the dwarves that had invented blackpowder.

The trapped salamander was quickly let go and it rejoined the group of lizards. The kobolds were glaring and hissing at them even as they raised their new weapons. Only Skeeter knew that they weren't loaded, but no-one needed to know that detail right now.

"I think it's time for you folks to leave."

The group made a slow, but steady, shuffle towards the front of the store. All while several barrels were trained on them. The dwarven hostage whimpered and cried as he was held fast with the barrel still on his skull. He was let go when the group was at the door. The dwarf was nothing but a bearded blur as he hurried to be away from the boomstick. The rest made to join him, though one of the humans sneered and called as they left.

"You will see no future business from us!"

"I think I'll survive." Skeeter stated as he watched the fleeing group.

The Chief came up to Skeeter.

"I'm sorry our presence caused you such damage and trouble."

"Nonsense! You're friends of Jeb, that practically makes you kin. If they want to do business here then they'll just have to get used to bein' around lizardfolk." Skeeter proclaimed as he locked the front door.

"Regardless, we don't know how to repay you. We'll help clean up and then take the back door and go through the woods back to Jeb's so as to not cause you anymore trouble." The Chief said as the kobolds scattered to clean up some of the mess, most of which they just ate.

Skeeter wasn't going to complain. In truth, some of the stuff was expired or stale and he just hadn't had a moment to throw it out. But the kobolds and salamanders didn't seem to care.

After most of the stuff was cleaned he waved the lizards off.

"I appreciate cleanin' up a bit. But I can get the rest."

"Then we will leave. Thank you for defending us and for the weapons. We will leave out the back."

"Nope."

"Nope?"

"Nope. You can leave out the front like normal, respectable, folk. Just give me a moment." Skeeter stated as he went back into the workshop. He came back out with a, loaded, M4 slung over his shoulder and a few ammo boxes.

"These should hold you for a time." Skeeter said as he heaved the boxes down. The kobolds heaved and secured them to the salamanders to haul them back.

"Now, I'll see you off."

With that the kobolds left out the front door. Word had spread already and the nearest newcomers were giving looks at the store and the kobolds that just left it. Skeeter followed them out, M4 unslung and at the ready in case anyone decided to fuck around.

Word had spread about the blackpowder wielding human too it seemed, as the many new sets of eyes just watched as the lizardfolk hurried along their way unaccosted. Once they were far enough away that he didn't have to worry about them. Skeeter nodded to the onlookers with a smile and went back inside to close up shop and finish cleaning.