Silver walked at the head of a Kobold host, creeping towards Bighorn territory. The siege was about to begin. He scratched behind his head.

Three dozen armed and armoured Kobolds trailed behind him. Their armor gleamed in mushroom light. He glanced to his left, where Axel lead a similar host to the wall that defined their border.

Behind every host trailed improved fire ram carts, being rolled forward by groups of Kobolds. They arrived at the wall that separated the Clan Below and Clan Bighorn. Arch ways of curved stone gave way, falling away from their territory, revealing a desolate no mans land between them and the Clan they were set to attack.

Even before Alverost called the order, they advanced, pushing through the opened doorways in the ceiling high wall shoulder to shoulder. Bighorn was the largest and most expansive territory they had reached so far.

The city pressed to the ceiling in almost every corner. But it was quiet. Too quiet, like these outer edges had been abandoned. There was no sign of life or movement, even as the fire rams belched to life and the Clan Below’s domain stretched into the quickly burning city.

Silver hated the smoke. It took more than a day to clear last time, burned the eyes and skin, and left you covered in ash after the battle. He covered his eyes as his clan advanced. Strange calls and clicking noises could be heard farther ahead in the city, and the fire spread as empty buildings melted away.

“Stop!” Silver waved an arm at his cart and contingent. Ahead of them, the city still existed, unburning buildings rising above them. But the surface had been replaced. A yawning mouth of stone opened before them, receding into darkness. “We need lights.”

Contingents stopped all around them as the remnants of the burning city collapsed to reveal a massive cave structure existing in the abandoned ruins of the city. Silver looked around.

“We need a light.” Silver said. “Should we head back and gather glowshrooms?” He turned and asked. Kobolds that were dragging the cart staggered away from it as it bent, upwards, mana coalescing into dirt, into mushrooms, that glowed a shining white light.

Silver stared at it for a moment, before turning back to the front. “Forward!”

Distantly, the other carts shifted, creaking and groaning and changing.

“They’ve all retreated inside. The fire rams wont help us here.” Mark spoke next to Silver.

“The plan is still the same.” Alverost replied. “We haven’t seen a single enemy on the outskirts of the city. We go in, kill the Arcanist, and devour the dungeoncore. Kobolds, advance!”

Where the city’s building collapsed, giving way to open caves, the carts of the Clan Below pushed into the dark. Silver, at the head of his host, was quickly met by Clan Bighorn Kobolds. Twisted, they stood on two gigantic legs, their bodies feathered. Their tails swung behind them, and their elongated heads opened to reveal rows of teeth. Their arms remained the same size, tiny and unfit for weapons.

While many were covered in sets of mismatched armor, a mockery of Clan Below armor, they were mostly soft targets. They crashed into Silver’s phalanx, the weight heavy as one impaled itself on his spear. Their line staggered back, filling the cramped cavern side to side as arrows sailed over their heads.

Silver prayed their aim had improved.

Two groups of Kobolds met, and Silver staggered backwards as his spear plunged into scaled flesh. With a kick, he pulled it loose.

Their Kobolds pushed into the caves, carving through the Bighorn Kobolds like animals.

Another wave of the feathered Kobolds fell upon them, crashing into the spear holder to Silver’s left, whose spear missed the beasts organs and pierced through its side. It let out a miserable screech, biting down on the Clan Below Kobold’s head. Silver turned, stabbing towards its head, but it was too late. The Kobold beside him dropped dead.

Silver stabbed into the feathered Kobold over and over, until his arms were sore and the beast had long stopped moving. Finally he stood, surveying the dim light of the cave.

Numerous eyes glinted in the darkness, and they were surrounded by piles of bodies.

A single Kobold stepped forward out of the dark, eyes shining reflective in it. Feathers covered parts of his body, armbands of them surrounding his arms and chest, silver and reflective, though he was completely free of armor.

“Surround him!” Silver yelled, his Kobolds changing forward to follow his order. He moved strangely, stepping slowly through the air as if he was underwater, before disappearing.

He reappeared tearing into another Kobolds throat, a gust of wind knocking dust into the air behind him. He turned, slowly, pulling back his lips to reveal rows of teeth which smiled as he stared at Silver, slowing to a halt with a disturbing smile.

Silver frowned. He had 29 Kobolds left following him.

This was the Arcanist that they had prepared for: A Kobold wielding magic that greatly accelerated its movement, though only in bursts.

Silver remembered what Alverost had said: Anytime the Arcanist stands still, its about to move, very quickly. He swung preemptively, his blade slashing at empty air and finding flesh and an alien shriek.

The Arcanist stood, gripping the new cut on its arm and staring menacingly at Silver.

Silver charged at the Arcanist.

It disappeared and reappeared a few steps back, falling into the dark. The tall Kobolds behind it charged, their lines once against meeting. Silver tracked the Arcanist with his eyes, but it avoided him, harrying their line of spearmen, ripping a spear from a Kobolds hands here, stabbing it into another’s throat there. More and more of the Kobolds around them fell.

Where he ripped away a spear, a Kobold would fall to a bite, or to his own attacks.

27… 26… 25… Silver counted every time a Kobold died.

Deeper from the dark, a light rounded the corner.

Another cart covered in light rumbled into view, trailing another contingent of Kobolds. Spearkobolds slowly marched forward, pinning the attacking Bighorn Kobolds between them as the walls closed in.

They noticed, communicating in a panicked bit of high squawking and screeching. The Kobolds opposite Silver began to jog, lead by Axel, who waved his sword.

The Arcanist slammed into him, knocking him off his feet. His sword clattered to the ground. Silver broke from their wall formation and charged at the Arcanist. The Clan Bighorn Kobolds squawked in surprise, but he continued onwards.

The Arcanist shimmered, lifting Axel’s sword above his head.

Silver slammed into his back, launched the Arcanist forward in a stagger, who blurred and appeared feet away, panting.

Silver kicked Axel’s sword to him.

“I had him.” Axel said bitterly. “I was going to catch my sword.”

“You were going to catch it with your neck.” Silver replied, not taking his eyes off the Arcanist, even as he slowed down. The other Clan Below Kobolds had continued forward, kettling the Clan Bighorn Kobolds in a circle, and were cutting them down. The Arcanist paid them no heed, instead glaring again at Silver.

“Why are you making me kill you first?” The Kobold spoke, its voice distorted into a collection of high squeaks and screeching. Then it began to stand very, very still.

“Axel, we have to attack before he moves.” Silver spoke, staring forward, spear held in front of him.

“No shit.” Axel said, picking up his sword and staggering to his knees.

The Arcanist moved.

Silver slashed, finding only open air as he heard the crunch of the Arcanist slamming its foot into Axel’s face. Axel skidded across the ground. The Arcanist grabbed the sword that fell from Axel’s hand, ripping it out of mid air and turning to Silver. He spun the blade menacingly, stepping towards Silver.

Silver stabbed forward, and the Arcanist stepped back. Then crumpled forward as Axel tackled him from behind, forcing him to the ground. Silver stepped around, trying to find a clean angle to stab downwards without hitting Axel, before he was launched into the air with a kick. The Arcanist struck viciously, swinging Axel’s blade edged blade—

And removing Axel’s left arm.

Axel screamed.

The Arcanist smiled.

Silver stabbed him in the back.

The Arcanist’s scream was weird, shrill and alien. It grabbed the horn on Silver’s helmet, slamming him to the ground, before turning back to Axel, who was dashing towards him.

The Arcanist freed Axel of his other arm, raising his sword again.

Axel bit into his neck.

The Arcanist screamed, and squealed, as Axel tore and jerked with his mouth, razer sharp serrated teeth rending flesh. And chewing.

The Arcanist fell backwards, dead, as Axel swallowed.

The Dungeon’s domain pushed over Axel’s location, spreading Mark and Alverost’s control and perception. Immediately, dungeonroots were racing towards them to repair the damage on their bodies.

“Axel! What happened?” Alverost asked even as Axel stagged over, nearly passing out from blood loss.

“Killed the Arcanist.” Axel spat out a bloody piece of meat as he finished speaking. “Tasted like shit.”

“Velociraptor Kobolds, huh?” Mark spoke next. “I wonder if the Dungeon Boss is a T-Rex.”

“The Arcanist is dead at least. The rest should fall easily.” Alverost hissed, his dungeon roots manipulating Axel’s body. He had passed out the second he finished talking.

“As long as there are no boulder traps.” Mark replied. “The real question is…” Mark spoke as a pink light coalesced above the dead Arcanist.

With an audible pop, a long piece of bloodied opal escaped the Arcanist’s chest. There was a pick flash in the air.

“What to do with the Arcana.” Mark finished. “We have two now.”

“They’re too dangerous.” Alverost replied.

“We already know exactly what this one does. We should offer it to the one who killed the Arcanist.” Mark said.

“We will have to wait for him to wake up.” Alverost replied.

The rest of the dungeon fell without incident. To Mark’s noted displeasure, there was no T-Rex at the end. Not even a stegosaurus. Just an extra large Kobold Velociraptor.

Mark, of course, took samples. Who didn’t want a pet dinosaur or two? Though he seriously wondered where all the feathers came from. Most of their changing was simple reshaping of monsters. Maybe the Kobolds had it in their DNA?

Mark wondered if they were related to chickens.

“You know, they say dinosaurs might have had feathers.”

Kobolds were piling loot on a hastily made altar in front of them, a mix of drops from the Bighorn Kobolds and hordes that they had collected. There were very few unchanged Kobolds left alive. Their perception hovered where the Bighorn Dungeoncore used to sit.

“What?” Alverost replied.

“Yeah. Right? All the depictions are all scaley, but its a lot of guess work. Makes me wonder if dragons have feathers.”

“Of course dragons don’t have feathers, idiot. Haven’t you seen one? Right. No dragons where you come from. But you had whatever these fucked up things were?”

“Not exactly. They were already dead way before I was alive.”

“Then how do you—“

Alverost was interrupted by a Kobold bursting through the door.

“What happened? Did we find more Bighorn Kobolds?” Alverost’s tone changed in a moment.

“No, its clan Blighteye!”

“Are they attacking us?” Alverost asked, preparing to contact the other Kobolds and prevent another raid.

“No! Its… they’ve fallen to clan Longtail! The Longtail nest crawls forward even now!”