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Kreka stood bored in front of the broken Sinwen castle walls. At least that’s what the Lady spoke of. He was commanded to stay and wait, but his dragon blood was telling him something else.

His lady needed him. Yes, he had crawled out of the underworld and into the light with the help of the Lady. Now, he would crawl further. He looked up to the stars and what lay beyond.

Kreka had heard of legends about them. They were dragon eggs. After a thousand and thousand years, they would hatch and fly into the endless darkness and become masters of the universe. But Orelgor the Mad was hyped up to the scales on hallucinogenic mushrooms. There was no saying if his words were true or not.

“Why are you staring at me?” The lady with red hair asked. Apparently she was the Lady’s cousin. Kreka had a cousin, too, but he tried to kill him with a dull relic spoon. It hurt.

“You are the Lady’s cousin,” Kreka said. “So why do you hide on this metal boat? Did the Lady also give you an order?”

“By Lady, I assume you mean Astrid?” She asked.

“Oh the Lady is called Astrid?” Kreka perked up at the information. “That is a striking name. It matches her grace and ferocity perfectly.”

The red haired Lady sighed. “My name is Freya. Ayway, what do you intend to do right now anyway? We have successfully routed the corruption and order has been restored.”

“The Lady–em, Astrid, ordered us to remain here until she returns,” Kreka said.

“Then why don’t I put you to work?”

“Slave labour?” Kreka asked.

“Not slave labour, Kreka.” Freya chuckled. “Something that a mighty kobold may have use for.”

“Will it help Astrid?” Kreka baled his hands into fists. He looked at the woman with expectancy.

“Oh yes. It will help Astrid tremendously.”

“Then okay,” Kreka said, tilting his head at the young human female’s curled lips.

Freya took Kreka into a large building on the outskirts of the Upper District. It had two enormous towers built on top. Smoke billowed out of them like a dragon's mouth. It reminded Kreka of the slave house back in the town. Kreka spat. He didn’t like being taken here.

No human houses were in this area. Not only that, it smelled like human faeces. The worst of them all.

Kreka remained vigilant. Just because the Lady with red hair was Astrid’s cousin, that didn’t mean that she would treat him kindly. After all, humans had hunted kobolds for decades. What was stopping her from taking him into a deep dark area where no-one would walk…

Before Kreka realised it, the smile that Freya had shown before was obviously devious. She intended to harvest his organs and feast on them!

“Stop, you wretched human woman!” Kreka pointed at Freya, the kobolds behind him tightened the grips on their weapons. “You intend to harvest my organs, don’t you? I won’t accept it! My Lady Astrid is going to take us into the skies and let us fly with dragons. I can’t die here!”

“Kreka,” Freya said, trying her hardest not to burst out with laughter. She pointed to the worktop stations where a bunch of various sized humans were busy making things. Stranger yet, they had no eyes. And they were loud. “I hear kobolds are crafty creatures. That’s why I need your help. Astrid, needs your help.

“The… psychos, as Astrid calls them, have begun work on an explosive weapon. If it works, we can use them to great effect. We’ll be able to bridge the gap in levels, destroying our enemies en-masse.”

“Hmm–” Kreka kept one eye on the red haired young human as he inched closer to one of the workstations. This one was hot. Sparks flew out in all directions. The strange man was making an even stranger device. He was touching a tool almost like a pencil, but it was hot. This is where the sparks came from. He touched it against the ball, attaching spikes onto it.

He walked to another. This man was working on a ball that was halved. Inside was a strange powder. Kreka dipped his finger in it. He tasted it. He spat it out.

“Bah, it tastes disgusting,” Kreka said.

“Away!” The so-called psycho screamed. “Don’t touch my boom dust!”

“I didn’t touch your boom dust!” Kreka shouted back.

“You did!”

“Did not!” Kreka shot back. “It touched me!”

Freya rushed over and said, “Kreka, we have your own boom dust over here.” She hugged Kreka by his shoulders, trying to usher him away. But Kreka was strong. And he had questions. He spun on his heels, pointed at the psycho man with his boom dust, and said:

“Why do you not have eyes? Don’t you like seeing things? You can’t see the stars.”

“I can see just fine!” The psycho said, making Kreka only more confused. How can he see without eyes? “The great Eye-Queen ripped them out, gracing me! Because of her I grow strong. Because of her I can rip the flesh, and tear the bones!”

“The Eye-Queen?” Kreka asked, tilting his head.

“He means Astrid, Kreka.” Freya sighed and massaged her head.

“Oh,” Kreka said. “Oh! I want Lady Astrid to do that to me as well! It’s not fair that they get special treatment. I am a loyal warrior. I deserve it too.”

“Yes, yes,” Freya replied weakly. This time Kreka let the woman move him. They moved toward another table. The red haired woman removed her hands from his shoulders, then placed them behind her back, and continued, “Do you think you can do the same as them? We need all the hands we can get.”

“Of course I can,” Kreka spat. He glanced over his shoulders. “Gor Shatter Bones, come here.”

A skinny kobold rushed forward. He had long wiry hair, which was strange for a kobold. Gor also wore broken glasses, although only one still had the lens installed. Because of that, he squinted with his bad eye.

“He doesn’t look strong,” Freya said. “Why is he called Shatter Bones?”

“Well,” Kreka said, “When we were young, Gor found himself head first in a rock tumbler. Broke most of the bones in his body. If it wasn’t for Kor, his healer brother, he would still be staring at the bottom of that machine. Took him years to recover, but he is good with his hands. The best tinkerer in Pander.”

“I see.” Freya nodded.

“Warrior Kreka!” Gor saluted, hand on chest. “How can I be of assistance?”

“You heard the human woman,” Kreka said, knocking on the workshop table. “See what you make of this contraption.”

Gor nodded and picked up the metal ball. Then he dipped his finger into the boom dust, tasting it. Freya had a weird face, but Kreka ignored it. Gor clicked his tongue and started touching everything on the table. He would pick it up, taste it, nod, then place it back onto the table and move onto the next thing.

After a few minutes, he stood in front of Freya, and said, “Yes, I can teach the others how to use them. But if I may, can I change a few things?”

“Like what?” Freya responded.

“The boom dust mixture is off. If we take out ten percent and mix in the leaves of Marrow, with a hint of Orken blood, it will improve the destructive capabilities by around twenty percent.”

“You seem to know a lot, Gor Shatter Bones,” Freya said with a smile.

“I have been blessed with knowledge, my Lady,” Gor replied.

“Wait, Gor,” Kreka interrupted the skinny kobold. “What if, on top of the Marrow leaves, and Orken blood, we add my power?”

Gor pinched his own cheek, in thought, then his good eye widened. He nodded enthusiastically, and said, “Yes, that will work wonderfully. I don’t know how much it will improve, but it should be by a large amount.”

“Let’s try it!” Kreka grinned. He opened his palm. Soon after, his veins glowed a bright frigid blue. From his heart, the veins all moved toward his hand. Then, pores escaped from his palm. They floated, moving toward the boom dust. They settled, mixing in with the grey dust like stars in the night sky.

Gor, excited, finished creating the explosive device in haste. His hands were incredibly dexterous, as if he had created the same device hundreds, thousands of times before. He handed the created explosive into Kreka’s hands.

“All you need to do is imbue it with your mana, then throw.” Gor clapped happily. “The mechanism will do the rest.”

“Fire!” Kreka shouted.

“Wait!”

It was too late. Kreka already acted. He lobbed the explosive device to the far side of the factory. In the next instant, an enormous explosion sucked the air from the surroundings, flashed a blinding light, then ripped a giant hole in the wall.

The resulting blast was reminiscent of an attack from a level one hundred and fifty.

“By the gods–” Gor clapped again and danced on the floor, tapping against the tiled flooring. “If we change a few things, gather some rare materials, we can increase the blast radius by a sizable margin. Lady Freya, what is that boom dust?”

“It’s a secret.”  Freya smiled, but she stared at the massive hole in wonder. “The ingredients are quite rare, but I should have enough for at least sixty of them. If not more.”

Kreka moved his gaze from the smoking hole in the wall, to the rest of the workshop. He bawled his scaled hands into tight fists.

“With this, I can help Lady Astrid ascend!”

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