Dream - 35 (Patreon)

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Race: Saurian

Bloodline Powers: Strength, Rending, Emberbreath
Greater Mysteries: Fire (Noble) 3, Wind (Noble) 1
Lesser Mysteries: Heat 4, Oxygen 4, Embers 4, Pressure 4, Current/Flow 4

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A handful of rocks clattered down the side of the mountain as a kobold scrambled into one of the hundreds of cracks and crevices.  Samazzar watched the small creature scamper away, shaking his head.

“I think I recognized her, but she was gone before I could place her muzzle,” Takkla said, eyes flicking from one rocky recess to another.  “There are two more scouts watching us, but they’re much higher on the mountain and I can’t make out any details.”

Dussok sighed, shifting his axe to his right shoulder.  He plowed ahead, leading the way while Sam and Takkla followed a couple of paces behind.

“You were right Samazzar,” Dussok remarked, eyes forward as he marched onward.  “There is no going home again.  The tribe is treating us like outsiders, threats to be avoided or defeated rather than members coming home after a long journey.”

“Watch yourself,” he continued.  “There should be a pile of rocks that they can use to start a rockslide up around the next ridge.  After that there will be a blind turn where we will need to walk close to a cliff.  The tribe has perches where kobolds can throw rocks and nets at invaders.”

“Do you think you can spot any of the traps Dussok mentioned?” Sam asked Takkla.  She glanced up at the steep hillside and nodded.  He thought he saw distant movement where one of the scouts shadowing them ducked behind a boulder, but it easily could have been the wind or his imagination.

The wind.  Samazzar fought to hold back a smile, closing his eyes and letting his senses wander.  If heat sense had been a helpful tool, the mystery of wind was a revelation.  For hundreds of paces in all directions, Sam could sense everything the air touched.  Every scraggly plant, rock, and furtively hiding kobold stood out as a silhouette where the wind could no longer travel.

It was fascinating, but overwhelming.  Samazzar was sure that with proper study and practice he’d be able to use the ability more, but for now  it felt like he was touching every surface and looking at every object all at once.  He could only turn it on for quick bursts before he started to develop a headache due to sensory overload.

Dussok forged onward, bending his shoulders slightly forward as he struggled against the steadily increasing incline.  The ground under Sam’s feet had become rocky and uneven.  Only the hardiest of grass managed to grow between the gravel and ever larger stones that littered the landscape.

After a couple minutes of travel, Takkla clicked her tongue.  She inclined her head slightly upward, pointing with her muzzle toward the rock face that lined an upcoming segment of the trail.

“Traps?” Sam asked, closing his eyes and letting a burst of wind magic run over the area that Takkla had indicated.  Ahead, a trio of shapes that could only be kobolds crouched behind a pile of rocks the size of Dussok’s torso.  Samazzar couldn’t tell if the boulders were connected to the ground or loose and ready to roll, but he could make a guess.

“Three of them,” Takkla whispered as they continued toward the rocks.  “They’re whispering back and forth.  Nervous.”

“I’m on it,” Samazzar replied, focusing his will to intensify air pressure above them, creating an angled plane, about a pace thick, above them.  The empty space churned slightly, almost looking like a heat mirage if you looked closely enough.

“There,” he said.  “That won’t stop the bigger rocks, but it will deflect them a bit to the side.  It’ll give us time to dodge if things come to that.  I wouldn’t worry about nets though.  Anything lighter than stone is going to have trouble getting through.”

Dussok took one last long look at the trail ahead of them before speaking up.

“The pass next to the cliff is only about three paces wide.  Past that, there's a pretty steep drop into a gorge.  It’s why Duromak chose this spot for the rockslide.  Even if a rival tribe had shields, they should be tightly packed and easy targets.”

“Then we loosen up,” Sam responded, slowing his pace by a half-step.  “If we’re spread out, between the magic and our reflexes, we should be able to dodge anything if the guards panic and try to activate the traps.”

“Do you think that’ll happen?”  Takkla asked quietly.  “I know we look different now, but there are only three of us and we haven’t taken any aggressive actions.  For all the tribe knows we’re explorers or merchants coming to trade with them.”

“They’ll drop the rocks,” Dussok replied grimly.  “Unless someone shows up with an entire army, the tribe doesn’t bother trying to negotiate.  Duromak himself has said that killing scouts is an important first step to ensuring that the caves aren’t invaded.  He even lets the guards keep half of the loot from anyone that they can finish off in the passes.”

“Then we’ll be ready,” Samazzar responded.  “Takkla, keep an eye out and warn us if they attack.  I don’t want to hurt any of our former tribe if I can help it, but if they won’t run away…”

He trailed off, mouth set into a determined line.  Dussok squared his shoulders as he clambered over a boulder that had fallen into the path.

Sam continued marching in silence, eyes boring into Dussok’s back despite the burning need to look up at where he had sensed the kobolds.  Of course, doing so would alert the scouts, and even if they might have been inclined to let the three of them pass, that would almost certainly trigger an attack.  It was better to let Takkla observe them.  Her vision was good enough that she could track the kobolds out of the corner of her eyes without letting on that they were being watched.

“Rocks!”  Her shout interrupted Samazzar’s thoughts. A quick pulse of wind magic found the boulders hurtling toward them.

Sam dove toward the steep incline of the rock wall, letting the pressure front redirect the tumbling stones.  It didn’t do much.  He was only at the fourth level in his control of air pressure after all, but the densely packed air redirected the projectiles just enough.

Their trajectory shifted, carrying them past where the three saurians clung to the wall and slamming into the outer edge of the trail before they bounced into the valley below.

A second wave followed with similar results.  Above them, the kobolds broke into agitated chatter that Sam couldn’t quite make out.  He looked back to Takkla, but her head was cocked to the side as she listened in on their conversation.

“One of them is going to get reinforcements while the other two throw rocks,” she finally said, her voice tight.  “It sounds like the tribe wants to do this the hard way.”

“Then we move,” Dussok rumbled.  “The trail is going to take a sharp turn into a valley.  If the tribe has time, we’ll be buried under rocks and sling bullets.  The defenses are designed to stop an entire warband, but if we travel quickly, we should be able to make it through before the guards are in place.”

“Lead the way,” Sam replied, coughing up a small ball of embers and flames into an outstretched hand, “I’ll keep them distracted.”

Takkla jogged past him as Sazzar shaped the flames with his mind, quickly transforming them into an arrow or bolt before their fuel ran out.  Then he launched the fire into the air, targeting a small scraggly bush that was growing from a gap between two rocks.

It began smoldering only for a wave of Sam’s hand to fan oxygen and heat into the dim flicker of flames.  It roared to life, and another twist of Samazzar’s will sent tongues of fire questing outward, seeking the two remaining kobolds.

They shrieked, dropping their rocks and running for cover.  Sam let his muzzle slip into a smile before he hurried away to catch up with his siblings.  It was taking all of his concentration to maintain both the fire and the wall of pressurized air.  Even if he had enough energy left to use his wind sense to locate the fleeing lizards, he wouldn’t have been able to maintain the spell long enough to attack them.

As imposing as the fire had been, it wasn’t any threat to the kobolds.  If they hadn’t run away, it simply would have burned itself out while he lashed out blindly.

He rounded the corner, jogging through a winding pair of switchbacks before he met up with Takkla and Dussok just outside a rocky valley.  The ground was a dry riverbed, but more importantly, even with Samazzar’s normal eyesight, he could make out at least a half dozen kobolds crouching next to rocky outcroppings, waiting for the three of them to enter.

“Takkla, do you think you could get up the side of the mountain?” Sam asked.  “I doubt the defenders will be thrilled if they don’t have the advantage of elevation.”

She nodded hesitantly, drawing a cheap iron knife that they’d looted from the goblin village before turning toward the steep, angled walls of the valley.  Takkla took a running start before jumping just shy of the rock face.

Her bloodline activated, and a silhouette of wings appeared behind her back.  They pumped twice, extending her leap before fading away when she hit the side of the valley, almost halfway up.

Takkla clung to the angled rock face for a couple of seconds breathing heavily.  In the distance the kobolds began to chatter.  At least one or two were pointing at her when Takkla tensed her muscles and jumped again.

Once more, the shape of wings appeared behind her.  They flapped twice, propelling the leaping saurian past the ridge that overlooked the valley.  The ground was still sloped, but now Takkla was on the same level as the kobold defenders, capable of approaching them freely so long as she was careful not to trip and tumble into the gorge.

One of the kobolds abandoned his cover, diving into a nearby tunnel and disappearing into the maze of caves that led to the tribe’s main warren.  The rest of the guards shouted in alarm, pointing nervously at Takkla as she began to walk toward them, knife drawn.

“That’s our cue,” Dussok said, tilting his head to the side until his neck popped audibly.  “Do you think you can pull some sort of trick to keep them occupied?  Takkla can probably take any of them one on one, but she’s not much of a melee brawler.”

“Incendiaries it is,” Samazzar replied.  He extended his palm, exhaling a mouthful of fire into his open hand.

Dussok took off at a sprint, axe clutched in both hands as Sam caught the flames with his mind.  He compressed them into a thin line, tossing it with an underhand motion toward the left side of the valley before running after his sibling.

His fire found purchase in some dry grass, and a couple puffs of pure oxygen sent them roaring to life.  One of the kobolds threw a head sized rock toward Dussok that wouldn’t have landed anywhere near him regardless of Sam’s magic, but that movement made her a target.

A flick of Samazzar’s wrist gathered up a ball of flame from the burning hillside and sent it arcing toward the attacker.  She yelped as the fire engulfed her, stumbling backward a step before running off into one of the numerous tunnels that dotted the defensive positions.

Sam stopped feeding the flame heat and oxygen, letting their assailant off with little more than a scare and some light burns as she ran away.

Another kobold stepped out from behind a rock, a pouch of leather with two braided handles in his claws.  He began swinging the sling over his head, but before he could unleash its payload, Samazzar gathered a handful of sparks with his mind and peppered the skirmisher.

He pushed with his will and the well oiled leather of the sling burst into flames.  The defender screeched in terror, dropping his weapon and diving behind the boulder that he had been using as cover.

Screams filled the valley.  One kobold fled from Takkla’s approach, breaking into a scamper before slipping into a concealed tunnel.  That was the final pebble that started the landslide.

Between Takkla’s charge and Samazzar’s fire, the weak morale of the kobold tribes people had been stretched past its limit.  They turned and ran, no longer confident in the supposed safety of their unassailable perches.

By the Dussok and Sam made it to the end of the valley, it’s walls were empty.  Only one defender had even managed to throw a rock.  The rest disappeared into the security tunnels, not willing to risk their frail lives for the good of the tribe.

A clatter of rocks announced Takkla’s arrival as she scrambled down the slope.  Samazzar nodded at her before returning his gaze to the empty sides of the pass.  He spat on the ground.  When Sam spoke, his voice was practically a growl.

“Cowards.  This is why the tribe will never amount to anything.  They barely work enough to survive, and even then, only when Duromak is watching.  They’re content to betray and rob each other over the handful of scraps that they can manage to eke from the sterile caves rather than actually try and claim a spot for themselves in the world.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Takkla gasped.  “I didn’t see any of Duromak’s inner circle or Lellassa.  These were just the tribes’ dregs and ruffians.”

Dussok brushed past Sam, putting a hand on Takkla’s shoulder as she heaved for breath.

“Are you alright Takky?” He asked, worry weighing down his voice.

“Yes,” Takkla responded, smiling weakly.  “Using my bloodline more than once just takes a lot out of me.  I’ll be fine in ten to fifteen minutes.”

“Takky?”  Samazzar inquired, swallowing a snicker.

Dussok glared at him for a second.  Sam didn’t back down, instead raising one of his scaly eyeridges questioningly.  Finally, Dussok relented. The big saurian shrugged, his stern expression devolving into an embarrassed grin as he tried to change the subject.

“We can talk about it later, little dragon.  For now, the end is in sight.  Past this valley there is an incline that ends in the main entrance to the caves.”

“Fine,” Sam chuckled, “but don’t expect me to just forget about this and move on.  With a pet name like that you can be sure that I’ll be teasing both of you for months to come.”

Takkla groaned good naturedly as Samazzar slapped Dussok on the shoulder before walking past the two of them.  A couple of seconds later, they fell in behind Sam as he led the way out of the valley.

True to Dussok’s word, barely a minute later they were climbing up a rocky hillside, the familiar main entrance to the kobold caves ahead of them.  Samazzar had never had a chance to use it for more than a half hour or so at a time.  Duromak’s followers tended to monopolize it making the smaller cave mouth in the creche his exit of choice, but it was an impressive sight.

Twice as tall as his new, bigger form, the main entrance was wide enough to let entire war bands enter and exit at the same time.  Even from a distance, he could see the lattice of ancient logs piled across the opening.  From experience, he knew that a number of the logs had rollers under them, letting kobolds from inside slide open the door with a crude pulley system.

The three of them wove through a number of boulders, climbing ever higher up the hillside as they approached.  Halfway up the incline, Sam almost stopped.  A number of kobolds, all bigger and more heavily armed than those in the canyon, stood, forming a line in front of the gate.

Samazzar glanced back to Dussok, only for the big saurian to nod grimly.  At his side, Takkla was still sucking in air, but she gave him a thumbs up, displaying one of the slings that had been dropped by a scout.  Whatever encounter awaited the three of them, the siblings would be ready.

He kept climbing, his steps lighter.  Sam doubted that Duromak and his cronies would be happy to see the three of them, but there was no question in his mind that they could overthrow the kobold tyrant if they worked together.

When they finally approached the cave’s mouth, no one said a word.  Ten guards, all wearing chest plates of leather with strips and scraps of metal sewn into them clutched spears.  At their center were two kobolds.  Samazzar immediately recognized Lellassa.  He’d seen the witch too many times to forget her.  At her side was the biggest kobold he’d ever seen, a glittering polished longsword held tightly in his claws.

A smile quirked the sides of Sam’s muzzle.  As large as the ‘big’ kobold was, he barely stood as tall as Samazzar’s neck or Dussok’s chest.  Muscles that would have once bulged and gleamed impressively under polished scales were unimpressive and scrawny.

“Duromak I presume?” Samazzar asked, inclining his muzzle fractionally toward the obvious leader.  The creature blinked in surprise, obviously not expecting his visitors to recognize him

Lellassa flowed past the startled chief, her eyes wide and locked on the axe slung over Dussok’s shoulder.  She drew in a sharp breath, her tail slapping the ground once before twitching worriedly.

“That’s Grolm’s axe,” she hissed.

“That it is Lellassa,” Sam replied, taking note of the dozens of tiny pairs of eyes peeking out at the encounter from the gaps in the gate.  “Don’t worry, they won’t be needing it anymore.”

Duromak stepped past the sorceress, longsword raised and gleaming in the afternoon light.  He shot a dirty look at Lellassa for stealing his moment before puffing out his chest and addressing the three of them.

“So strangers! It appears that you know of the mighty Chief Duromak.  Tell me why you have come to visit our tribe and be quick about it.  If your reasons are good enough, I may even overlook your attack on my scouts and spare your lives!”

Sam smiled at him, opening his muzzle just enough to display the rows of razor sharp teeth.  Duromak held firm, but at least two of the guards behind him shuffled back a step or two.

“Ten spears to greet us Duromak.”  He clicked his tongue approvingly.  “It’s almost poetic.  Like you want you want the evidence of your betrayal on full display for our return.”

“Return?”  The Chief asked, confusion warring with arrogance as he glared at Samazzar.  “I’ve never seen you before in my life.  I’d recognize a creature such as you.”

“Would you?”  Sam questioned mockingly.  “I’ve changed a lot since you sold me for those spears.  The last time I was in the caves, it was me craning my neck to see your face.  Now look at you Duromak.  You’re barely taller than my shoulders.”

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about,” Duromak replied.  “I would ask if you’re in the wrong location, but you apparently know both myself and my tribe’s witch.  Enough of these games, stranger.  If you have something to say, say it.”

“Come now,” Samazzar said with a quick, mirthless laugh.  “It has only been a couple of months.  Are you trying to say that you already don’t recognize me?”

Lellassa’s eyes widened.  She took a step back, raising the iron lantern held in both of her claws like it was a shield that could ward him off.

“Samazzar,” She blurted out.  “But how?”

Sam didn’t respond, instead bowing deeply, a predator's grin on his face the whole time.