Carefully, we crept our way forward, wary of any trap that may have been sent to thwart us from the vast hoard that was ripe for the taking. None of us detected any signs of traps on the door, and, being the hardiest of the bunch, I had everyone else stay back while I opened the stone door, which was itself unlocked. Surprisingly, it did not have that familiar stone-on-stone grinding sound, for the door lay in a track of some kind that allowed it to slide smoothly.
“Whoever made this door put a lot of effort into making it smooth to open. I wonder if it is of dwarven make,” I postulated to the group as I wedged the door open. Last thing we want is for it to close behind us and keep us locked in.
“Could be,” replied Alterez, “Although gnomes are known for over-engineering things. From what I can see from here, the cave beyond has only hints of worked stone here and there, so I am inclined to believe dwarves may have made the door but otherwise did not live here.”
Convinced by Alterez’s clear and reasonable deduction, I flashed him a smile before I led the way down the stairs. We could only travel in single file, and Chooka crouched awkwardly to avert smashing her horns into the roughly hewn ceiling. We trudged along at a downward pitch for perhaps three flights of stairs before coming to a lobby. Fully furnished with the tasteful but otherwise sterile and lifeless style that could be found in big corporate offices, nightmares of past lives stuck in the soulless work within the confines of cubicle labyrinths echoed through my consciousness for but a moment as we finished filing into the room.
At the receptionist desk sat a lone kobold. She clearly wore a wig, one with hair tight back in a neat and professional manner, about neck length. Likewise, she wore pinstriped but formal business attire, although it looked to be cut intentionally revealing, showing off her rather massive breasts which kobolds certainly should not have, being lizard-based creatures and not known to produce milk. She also wore red lipstick and rectangular-framed glasses, the latter of which did not fit in a sensible way on her head to actually correct vision, with kobolds having their eyes located slightly more to the sides of their rounded heads than forward-facing like other humanoids. Despite her change in appearance and more illustrious skin pattern, there existed a certain familiarity about her that made me believe that she was the Urchin from the drug deal.
“Salutations, and welcome to North Mountain Lakeside Caverns. Do you have an appointment?” She spoke clearly and with calculated friendliness, her smile wide and cheerful, but it never reached her eyes.
“No,” I replied on behalf of our group, leaning in on the counter as I answered the ‘receptionist’, “We don’t have an appointment. We are here to evict a few dragons that are illegally squatting on private property. My property, as granted to me by Grand Duke Archibald Melwyrr Fylthern himself.”
“I see. The boss doesn’t accept walk-ins at this time. I’d be happy to schedule an appointment for you. Allow me a moment to fetch all the proper paperwork.”
The Urchin turned and hopped off her chair and walked to a filing cabinet behind her. She bent over at the waist to open the bottom drawer, her way-too-short-to-be-professional-skirt giving an enticing glimpse of her pink underwear while her hips and tail swayed rhythmically as she rooted through the filing cabinet.
I myself didn’t feel enticed by her blatant display of sexuality, for while kobolds are undeniably cute, they aren’t my type. However, Alterez’s eyes threatened to plop out of his skull and roll across the desk in front of him, his body leaning over the counter as he stood perched on a convenient stepladder that allowed him to see over the desk. Chooka merely looked amused by the whole thing and winked knowingly at me, while Skull sent jubilant sensations through our bond which hinted at wanting to pick up the kobold and squeeze her close in adoration.
“Thank you for waiting,” she said as she scrambled back into her chair that stood too tall for a race of such short stature. “I have the proper forms to file a request for an appointment or a tour. Tickets for a tour cost three silver coins per head. Will you be paying now or at the time of your tour?”
Alterez started to reach for his coin purse as I put my hand on his to stop him. For some strange reason, everyone went along with this clear charade at civility without batting an eye, but I felt no qualms about continuing our way through the cave system to find the dragon or dragons who lived here. Only my curiosity as to why the others seemed so docile kept me in check.
“No need for a guided tour. We will be able to manage things ourselves.”
“Well then, you will need to fill out these forms,” she continued as she slid a few different forms across the desk to us, “If you intend to engage in any roughhousing, this cavern is registered as a historical landmark and as such there are restrictions imposed against remodeling or damaging it.” She pointed at a plaque on the wall that gave credence to her claim, the fancy and engraved brass plate mounted on a wood backboard outlined the historical nature and protection of the cavern.
I had to bodily restrain Chooka from pouncing on the forms, for I did not want to waste time filling out silly paperwork that probably would never be filed with the proper authorities.
“You look like you want to fill out the paperwork,'' Urchin stated with an edge of authority to her voice as she turned her head to Skull. “As an act of good faith, I will permit the rest of your party to continue on while you stay here with me to fill out these forms.
Even though her helmet remained on, I could tell Skull blanched at the prospect. Though fearless, some things remained unpleasant. Like, people are not necessarily afraid to reach their hand into a chamber pot to fish out something that had accidently dropped into it, but it is still a situation people would go to great lengths to avoid. Skull begrudgingly advanced as Chooka struggled mightily to escape my grasp and seize the paperwork for herself.
“Release me, you fiend!” Chooka flailed in my grasp, desperate to volunteer in Skull’s place, but still mindful not to drop or damage her bulky weapon. “You don’t understand, that is rag paper, made with no wood pulp. It has 110 gsm and 95 whiteness! The ink on it has an 84 percent trapping and a fineness of grind of 30 Gnomish Grain Units!”
Skull removed her helmet, a single tear streaming down her face as she sullenly faced the paperwork in front of her. I’ve seen convicts on their way to the execution block more chipper than her, so clearly a tribulation like no other stood before her.
“Please continue to the next room,” the Urchin stated while pointing to the only other doorway in the room. “An associate will be there to guide you further along.”
I carried the kicking and screaming Chooka on my shoulder to the next room, leaving behind a grim Skull consigned to her fate. One 90 degree turn to the right from the last, this room had two old kobolds, judging by their long white beards that kobolds certainly should not have. Neither one was Pompadour, so these must be the other two kobolds from the drug deal. Back then they were… they were… hmm. I remember they looked to match the other Urchin and Pompadour, but I can’t remember anything specific about them during the drug deal.
“Greetings, Adventurers.” One of the ‘old fogies’ greeted us, but I found myself hard-pressed to know one from the other. “We have all these dangerous and rare substances that we need to sort and store on the shelves behind us. Some of these will make you see things, some of them will take your mind to the heavens in a blissful and serene exploration of the universe, so you need to be careful with them. But, my poor old back isn’t what it used to be. I sure could use a tall assistant to help me store things in these high shelves behind me.”
Chooka, usually a softy for helping others in need, calmed down at the odd request from the two kobolds. Feeling 80 percent confident Chooka would not immediately bolt back to the previous room and fight Skull to the death for the right to fill out the paperwork, I set her down gently into a standing position.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“We sure would appreciate the help of a fine young lady like yourself,” said the other kobold to Chooka. “You look like you have good organizational skills and could help us sort this mess.”
Easily baited by a compliment to her competency and their pitiful and pleading expressions, Chooka stepped away to join the kobolds at the table that held an assortment of bags, bottles, and boxes. Some containers held powders, but others contained small parts of creatures or plants. There were way too many tentacle-based ingredients in the bottles for my liking, so I found myself glad to not be chosen.
“I have some experience with these kinds of things,” stated Alterez to the kobolds as he scratched at his neck with shaky hands. “Perhaps you would want a more experienced individual to assist you.”
The kobolds leveled disapproving and silent glares in response. Chastised by their response, Alterez turned back to me, and with slumped shoulders he moped as he walked towards the next door and continued along with me to the next room. Some nagging feeling gnawed away at me as we entered. Something was amiss, but I could not put my finger on it.
Before us stood Pompadour, only this time he dressed differently. Flashbacks of a life spent rum-running flickered through my mind, the sensation more vivid than what I had experienced earlier with the receptionist. Something about this cave triggered errant memories of lives long since passed, and the poster-child of a mafioso before me reminded me of a life that ended with cement shoes. In his arm, he held a weapon, somewhat similar to Chooka’s, only it had a single barrel and a much thinner cylinder just before the wooden stock.
“You’se two are late. I needs onsya to help me sight this in,” he stated in greeting as he patted the butt of his weapon. He spoke around a cigar in his mouth, the end of which gave off a stream of bubbles rather than smoke. “You,” he continued while gesturing at me, “can amscray.” He nodded to the door. “The boss is expectin’ ya.”
Without a word of complaint, I headed to the next door, only hearing a portion of the conversation behind me. Something about a, “Put this on your head and walk down to the edge of the range and…” Confused by something elusive, I continued on, not understanding what was happening, passing through a few intersections without noting them too much, uncaring what lay down them as I advanced as if seemingly guided to my destination.
“You are under a compulsion. Fight it! Wake Up!”
The voice felt distant, not in sound, but in a metaphysical sense, as if the speaker spoke to me across a vast distance and directly into my mind. I could feel his presence, his deep baritone voice shattering my complacent tranquility. I looked south, and I felt a presence there, far away in a desolate land.
Shaken from some foul sorcery, I found myself in a huge and magnificent cavern, up high on a ledge that overlooked the bulk of it that lay below me. Activating a few stealth Skills, I crept closer to the edge and gazed down. A red dragon lay sprawled out on a small yet respectable hoard of gold, precious metals, and jewels. I glimpsed a woman, arms outstretched and body bound in a humbling position, two solid pillars on either side of her forming anchor points for her bindings. The dragon faced her, and moved animatedly as he conversed with her, seemingly oblivious as to my presence and his body obstructing my continued study of her.
Bereft of my companions, I stood alone against the dragon. No, not just a dragon, but three, for two more waited in silence nearby, one smaller than the other, but both smaller than the one talking to the woman. Apparently, I was not in fact expected, despite being told so.
I couldn’t make out his voice from this distance, and I hesitated to use any Skills to scout him out. There remained the very real possibility that any of those dragons could spot an [Observer] or [Overseer], and I did not fancy my odds at winning against them without surprise on my side.
A clever idea whispered itself into my mind, one with the same essence to it as the voice I heard earlier, but not as blatant as a true voice speaking into my mind. Following along, I took the idea and began plotting a plan, one with contingencies in case things went wrong. For several minutes I observed as I schemed.
Going back for the others was out of the question, for I would most likely be ensorcelled by whatever had impeded my judgment earlier. It felt so obvious and shamelessly whimsical now, the insidious trap that had been laid for me. They had separated us one at a time, each ploy taking less effort than the previous one. Thinking back, I couldn’t even remember much about the second room, only that the kobolds were old and they were sorting stuff. My memory is pretty keen, so some sort of Skill or Ability had impeded my ability to remember them. The receptionist, Urchin, had said that this was a ‘cavern’, or a series thereof, whereas the plaque on the wall had called it a ‘cave’, which felt like an obvious discrepancy in hindsight. Pompadour didn’t even put on a dog and pony show, he just commanded us and Alterez and I followed obediently.
These kobolds are not to be underestimated. Each one played their part in a little scenario, as if each one were its own small play and they needed a volunteer from the audience to help tell the story. Strange how the most obvious participant was not selected for each task. Perhaps the mesmerizing effect would not have worked had we done so. Hmm, something to consider.
Anyway, the dragons didn’t seem to be doing much or caring about intruders into their lair, so perhaps they had not been notified or they had no Skills to know about it. The lack of whelps and wyverns concerned me, for if they were not here, what were they doing? Nothing could be done about it, so I finished planning and continued on to the execution phase.
With careful and practiced effort, I focused on creating the smallest and weakest trap I could muster, taking great care not to pulse my magical power too hard and give away my position. Traps do have an element of Stealth to them in the magical sense that they don’t give off any ambient magical energy. However, the creation of a trap does, and so I needed to ensure that the small ripples of magic through the area around me would go unnoticed by the dragons below. A second trap followed the first, each imbued with the minimum energy needed to exist. I had invested heavily in Skills that would allow me to modify them remotely at a later time, so they didn’t need to be armed and dangerous. Granted, giving the proper payload from the get-go would be more efficient, but in this case, discretion trumped such concerns. I calculated a travel itinerary for them and sent them off, the duo sliding slowly but inexorably towards their destination, each programmed to move between each waypoint I had outlined along the way.
However, a moving trap could be detected by anyone with the right Skills, and being that I faced dragons that needed to protect their lairs and hoards, odds were they would have trap-related Skills. I would need a distraction to mask their presence, and nothing provided a distraction like a fight for one’s life. With events in motion, I had no time to dawdle, and so I began the next phase of my assault. All I had to do was whisper the words, the (ugh, gross) incantation, and things would probably turn violent.
“I invoke the contract that is our bond, and as your master, I command you, come forth and see my mandate made manifest!”
Three circles of lights formed behind me, the central one suspiciously not noticeably bigger than the other two. Golden light shone upwards and outwards, small coronas of mystical energy radiating outwards from them with all the magical subtlety of a goddamn strobe light to the dragons below. From the bottom up, two frog creatures appeared in the outer circles while The Boys, smaller than I left them and their mouths covered in juices from edible things that matched what I had on stock in my pantry, appeared in the center.
This not being the time or place to chastise The Boys, I put a pin in it and turned my attention back to the three dragons below, each one now facing me and completely aware of my presence. At least I still held the advantage that he did not know I was a dragon as well.
“Those incompetent fools,” the big one roared in anger, great wings spreading as he stood to challenge me, “they were to inform me when my uninvited guests and challenger arrived. Let us fight then, dragon to dragon. I will send my underlings outside with yours, that they may fight separate from us, as honor and tradition demands. You have come for my hoard, but you must first claim my head if it is to be yours.”
Okay, so, he knows I am a dragon and he loves to hear himself talk. While the cavern is rather spacious, fighting in here with four dragons, two large frogs, and a hydra is not something I look forward to. Not to mention the rest of the gang once I pull them out of their charm effect. My deepest, dragoniest instincts told me that his offer of a duel was true and fair. No one would be permitted to interfere. It is just me, him, and our hoards in conflict, winner takes all. I knew in my bones that “kill them all and take their stuff”, is the way of life for dragons in conflict, but there were certain rules about how one goes about it.
“I accept your terms and challenge. I hope you washed your neck for me, because I am coming for your head.”
He smirked with a little huff of amusement, apparently entertained by my appropriate level of arrogance and satisfied that I have accepted terms. The fight of my life, or perhaps of his life, was about to begin. Two dragons enter, one dragon leaves. It’s time to duel!