Dogs and Wizards

Crunch, crunch—

Aisijin and Big Silly Hum stood off to the side, gnawing on chunks of ice with looks of fascination.

"Is that big guy a Dragonborn Kobold? He said he came from the Red Horn Tribe, too."

Ruger looked at Old Gold Tooth, who was still clinging to life and seemed capable of doing so for quite a while yet.

The Kobold who had fought the giant snake lay nearby, weak and rolling his eyes. He was a little taller than Big Silly Hum, though his shoulders were not as broad. But judging by his ability to face the giant snake head-on, he was far stronger.

"Hmm! Similar, but not quite the same..."

Old Gold Tooth studied him closely, curiosity written all over his face.

Ruger stepped forward and felt around. The big fellow's fur was exceptionally thick, with only a few red scales at his elbows and other spots. That was the biggest difference from the Dragonborn Kobolds Old Gold Tooth had seen.

Ruger scooped up a handful of shaved ice and flung it into the red-scaled Kobold's face.

Watching from the side, Big Silly Hum smacked his lips twice. He apparently had not had enough, but he did not dare make a sound.

The shock of the ice chips gradually stirred the red-scaled Kobold awake.

A commotion suddenly rose from the Kobolds gathered in the distance. Ruger and the others glanced over, then paid it no more attention.

The Kobold on the ground slowly moved his eyes, coming to bit by bit.

This fellow had quite a vicious streak. The moment he woke, he bared his teeth in a show of defiance and tried to get up. Ruger kicked him back down. His weakness was plain to see. To Ruger, the display was fear born of that weakness, the unease of finding himself in unfamiliar surroundings. Those accustomed to strength often grew even more afraid when they lost their power.

"Red Horn?"

He smiled down at the Kobold lying on the ground.

Being knocked down by such an unusually small Kobold seemed more than the big fellow could bear. He was already close to flying into a rage.

"I ask, you answer. I know you understand me."

Ruger knew Kobold habits all too well. No amount of reasoning worked as well as showing one how strong you were.

So before the other Kobold could respond, a blue-white beam flashed from Ruger's fingertip. The Kobold on the ground instinctively dodged, twisting through half a roll—just enough to catch the Freezing Ray with his back.

"Such thick fur. Wonderful fur, really. You must eat well to grow a coat like that..."

He whispered like a Demon, wearing a smile both sincere and wicked. He wanted the Kobold to remember that smile forever. Slowly, he raised his hand and cast the spell he had prepared.

In truth, he could cast it without pointing. The gesture and words gave him time to quietly recover the mental energy he had spent, while also adding to the pressure. That slowly rising hand would be etched into his opponent's memory.

Zero-Ring Spell: Shedding Spell!

The Red Horn Tribe warrior's rage had barely surged to his head before the sudden change cut it short.

The spell worked astonishingly well. It did not strip away one patch of fur, nor merely the spot Ruger happened to point at. In an instant, there was one completely bald Kobold.

Old Gold Tooth and Aisijin stared at Ruger in horror. Big Silly Hum, who had been sitting and enjoying the spectacle, instinctively began to edge backward.

Zing! Another Freezing Ray!

"Aaah!"

The Kobold let out a shriek.

Every piercing cry felt like a stab to the hearts of the three Kobolds nearby.

After several blasts, Ruger finally stopped. He was afraid of freezing the suspected Dragonborn Kobold to death, and he also wanted to save some mental energy in case things changed.

"We're all Kobolds. We're family. I just want to have a chat..."

He shifted and sat cross-legged on the ground, looking the fallen Kobold in the eye.

But the Kobold did not dare meet his gaze. Once defeated by one of their own, Kobolds immediately gave in. That was not a bad trait: it helped preserve the basic order their groups needed to survive in this harsh environment.

"The Red Horn Tribe? Are there many Kobolds like you?" he asked.

The bald Kobold nodded vigorously.

"It's the king. The king gives us strength. Lots and lots of our people go everywhere looking and bring back tribe after tribe. I couldn't beat the others to them. I walked a long way..."

The bald Kobold's voice grew quieter as he spoke. Already weak, he was beginning to shiver. Clumps of ice crystals covered large patches of his shoulders and back.

Ruger gave Big Silly Hum a look. He immediately came forward and piled the shed fur over the Kobold, then started punching through the ice crust. Big Silly Hum even sneaked a piece of ice into his mouth, though apparently it did not taste very good.

"Your king is a Dragonborn Kobold?" Ruger asked.

The bald Kobold nodded, then shook his head.

"The king failed. Back then, he wasn't king yet. He was skinny and small. He'd only started getting smart. The king said he'd awakened memories passed down from long ago, and more and more things appeared in his head. He said Kobolds had no master. He said we once had our own civilization, our own empire. A huge, huge empire..."

The bald Kobold kept talking.

But Ruger and the others had already turned to look at Old Gold Tooth.

"Then one day, the king suddenly grew big and tall, and curved red horns grew from his head. The king killed the tribe's Saint Lord. He said it was only a lesser dragon, not a true dragon, and that was why the tribe's Kobolds always failed. The king led us a long way to a pool full of red water. It was very hot. He made us drink it. We got smarter and stronger. We cheered. We ate the dead Saint Lord. The king's orders..."

As the bald Kobold spoke, he looked eagerly at the three of them and stole a glance at Old Gold Tooth, who was also lying nearby.

Ruger caught on at once. This fellow really had grown smarter. His sudden cooperation was meant to show off the king's strength and beliefs. He was singing the king's praises to convince them to join the Red Horn Tribe.

Clearly, the warrior from the Red Horn Tribe had taken an interest in the three Kobolds, who were noticeably smarter than most.

"Where is your king now? And what's this Wizard you mentioned?" Ruger asked with an amused smile.

"The king? He usually soaks in the pool. He only comes out when there's a powerful enemy. His curved horns are getting redder and redder. The king says we're cursed. A Wizard's curse makes Kobold pups stupid from birth. We have to kill the Wizard."

At that, the bald Kobold paused and looked at Ruger and the others again.

"You're very small, but you're smart and strong. The king will definitely like you! He likes smart Kobolds. He's always complaining that we're stupid..."

The bald Kobold recovered quickly. The ashen look he had worn on waking was gone, and the fervor in his eyes had gone well beyond ordinary enthusiasm.

Ruger considered hitting him with another blast. The moment he raised his hand, the bald Kobold shrank back, all his bluster vanishing.

"How many times did you go hungry on your way here? What else does the king have the tribe's Kobolds do?" he asked.

The bald Kobold thought hard, but in the end seemed unable to work it out.

"The king orders us to dig more ore and catch more bugs. And find more Kobolds, more territory, dig more ore, catch more bugs. And... and I forgot how many times I was hungry..." His eyes drifted toward Ruger's hand as he finished.

When no rebuke came, the bald Kobold started rambling again about how great the king was.

Ruger did not listen closely, but he did not interrupt.

He was thinking about what to do with this peculiar Kobold from the Red Horn Tribe.

"Do you have places like this where you live, with big tunnels and little tunnels all tangled together?" he asked.

The bald Kobold had turned to tell Big Silly Hum about the king's bravery. Ruger's voice startled him. He swung his large head back and nodded rapidly.

"Have you ever reached the end?" Ruger asked.

The bald Kobold shook his head hard.

The clamor from the distant Kobolds had quieted for only a short while before swelling again, wave after wave.

Amid the noise, Ruger could faintly make out cries that the great Gray Longneck Saint Lord had disappeared.