“Good.” Regis hummed before erupting into a bright crimson flare. Red light trailed away from its overwhelming source, lancing out toward Strum. The hobgoblin yelped with fear as the light circled him, wrapping tight and binding him as they became tangible.

Vraz dropped the paring knife, no one in the cave aware as it clattered to the kitchen floor. The scrawny goblin ducked into the storeroom, getting away from whatever madness Regis had unleashed in the middle of his workplace.

The fire-runes lining the stovetop ignited - pillars of flame licked the top of the small cave as even more ribbons of crimson light appeared from the crystal.

Loose ribbons of light whipped around the rest of the kitchen, scattering cooking equipment all around as the wild magic ran rampant. What was once a well-organized kitchen rapidly morphed into a chaotic mess. At the center, rising off the ground was the now light encased hobgoblin.

It took only a few more seconds for the magic to stabilize. Any loose ribbons of light were brought to heel; changing direction from their wild destruction and now contributing to the encasement of the hobgoblin.

Silence dominated the cave. Two pulses of intense crimson light rippled out across the kitchen before the ribbons of red dimmed and faded from existence. Any remaining glow around the crystal that was the source of this magic proceeded to vanish.

A loud thump broke the quiet as Strum’s unconscious body fell to the floor, no longer held in the air by the mana.

Vraz peeked his head out from the crack in the cave wall leading to the storeroom. Regis floated over his servant’s body in the middle of the kitchen.

The tanned green skin of the hobgoblin morphed into a tone between forest green and charcoal. Additionally, it was like the magic stretched the hobgoblin out - Leaving Strum a few inches taller, thinner, and with spindly fingers. Faint glowing lines laced down the hobgoblin’s arms, designed in intricate fiery runes, extending into his tunic and converging on a point directly in front of his heart.

As the mana continued to fade the glowing lines lacing him lost their luster, resembling some sort of arcane tattoo rather than the live runes.

There was very little Regis knew about the process he just forced Strum through. Other dungeons could only use that type of transformation on a select few of their denizens.

The purpose was twofold, control and amplification of the powers of the creature. Doing so was a constant tax on their resources and it would be quite some time before Regis could morph another goblin in the same way.

Knowing how to begin the transformation and its purpose didn’t do anything to explain its results. Each creature would change in its own unique ways based on its capabilities and according to the type of dungeon a creature tied its essence to.

In this case, Regis held an elemental relationship with fire. It was a natural extension of his passion for cooking. After all, who could expect a chef to cook without fire? How that translated into transforming Strum, Regis couldn’t be sure. However, the bond between them had deepened much further.

Now he simply was aware of the state of his servant. Rather than having to focus on their bond, the information simply filtered into him constantly. He didn’t worry about the state of Strum, because he could feel that the goblin was perfectly fine, only incapacitated. Eventually, Strum would wake up.

There was a more urgent affair that desperately needed tending. “Vraz, the kitchen is a disaster. Please return everything to its proper place. We cannot work efficiently in such a pig-sty.” Regis hummed out across the kitchen, aware of the scrawny goblin peeking its head out.

Vraz gave a little yelp and retreated into the storeroom, leaving Regis alone. The crystal flared with annoyance. Far too long passed before Vraz once again looked out from his hidey-hole.

“Well? Are you finished?” Regis buzzed out again, flying closer to the crack. Vraz walked out with a bundle of leathers piled under his arm. The goblin scratched the back of his head sheepishly and glanced at the still unconscious Strum in the middle of the kitchen.

“He okay?” Vraz asked, eyes drifting over the destroyed kitchen. It was unlikely they would resume cooking any time soon, but Regis didn’t mind. Sometimes a restaurant had to close for a day or two to implement changes. Usually, that was the result of renovations or training staff - maybe also if there was a huge menu change. In this case, he’d been a little reckless in his haste to deepen his bond with Strum. The last thing Regis wanted was for the hobgoblin to have a chance to reconsider.

“Strum will recover. No need to spend effort worrying about that. We must focus on our present issues, namely this destroyed kitchen. I would appreciate it if you would restore this kitchen to its former condition. I…” Regis stopped himself from apologizing. He already was facing the reality of issuing an apology to Gikx, as far as he was concerned, one apology was already far too much.

Vraz raised an eyebrow and shook his head. The scrawny goblin went over to the morphed Strum, gasping at his new appearance. His eyes darted to the crystal for an explanation. When remained silent, the scrawny goblin sighed and set the bundle of leathers under the former hobgoblin’s head and placed an animal pelt over him.

Regis watched quietly as his employee got to work, cleaning up the destroyed kitchen.

Strum finally opened his eyes, hours after the scrawny goblin had gone to bed. The hobgoblin doubled in pain on the ground, letting loose a gasp. Everything felt sore. Strum pushed himself to his unsteady feet, blinking at the new perspective. This… Doesn’t seem right. Am I… Taller? He glanced at his hands - ash-colored, and now marked with black lines.

He took a deep breath. It felt hot in this cave. Much warmer than usual. But surprisingly, the warmth felt good. More of a comfort than an oppressive swelter. Regis floated near him, uncharacteristically silent.

"What did you do to me?” Strum asked, looking at his new skin. His new hands… Though his ears remained as pointed as ever. But even his voice was deeper, his throat felt raw like he’d spent an entire day screaming.

“By tying yourself to my essence, your physical form has changed to reflect that. You should consider your good fortune that you are no longer a simple hobgoblin, however, I am unsure of just what you now are,” the crystal explained, drifting away from him. “Your lifespan is increased. I’m certain there are some additional benefits to your new body. However, now your loyalty to me is unquestionable. I’d advise switching to a more relaxed state for the next couple of days to recuperate.”

“Didn’t realize that it’d hurt so much. But, uh, there’s a lot to do right now,” Strum winced, leaning on a counter as he moved. This change was almost too much to process, so he dismissed it for now. He needed to start putting plans into action. That meant a talk with Jilde and Wort. Stirring the tribe against Rurk. Somehow explaining his transformation. And a meeting with Gikx... All of it required moving around and not laying in a bed all day.

“Well, as they say, there’s no rest for the wicked.” Strum took a moment to glance at the pelt and animal fur he’d been laying on, and shook his head. As much as he’d like to get back to rest, he doubted he could close his eyes. His blood practically thrummed with energy, combating the soreness out of his muscles for the time being. He could tell it was the type of restless energy that once it wore off, he’d be left a sore mess.

In the meantime, he would put it to use. “Well, uh, I’ll be back later. To discuss the Gikx situation.”

“I did not require such a dreadful reminder.” The noise emitted by Regis following that was the closest thing to an audible groan that a dungeon core could get. Strum shook his head, not quite sure if the deal he’d struck with Regis was worth it or not.

Strum sighed and walked away from the sulking crystal. Most of the Shadow-Axe tribe lay nestled away in their little hovels set up in the main cavern. Little ramshackle huts held together with branches, fur, and twine.

He made his way into a side cavern, filled with fewer hovels. This was the overflow of the tribe, where the goblins on the lowest rung of the ladder lived. Forming the entrance to the cave system, living here meant that every morning you’d be woken up by the sun, and the first in line if someone attacked the tribe. Before meeting Regis he used to live here too. Since then he’d moved to the main cavern, but both of his employees still lived here.

Jilde’s privacy hide hung over the entrance to her shack. Strum leaned against its frame, an unsteady wooden construction put together from repurposed furniture and took a deep breath. From this distance he could see soft light spilling from the mouth of the cave, marking the time as early morning. He’d slept for half a day. Gathering his breath, Strum stood on his own and knocked on the wooden frame.

He heard a shuffle, followed by a soft, “Huh? Who-is-it?” from inside.

“Just me,” Strum called out.

Jilde hesitated before calling out. “Strum? Are-ya-sick?” Strum sighed. It was like his throat was raw. He had the feeling his voice would never recover to its original state.

“Uh, something like that,” Strum didn’t bother to make an excuse. It would become apparent to his employee that he’d changed. Jilde rumbled around in the shack before pushing the privacy-hide aside. The half-gremlin gasped as she got a glimpse at him.

“S-strum?” She asked again, wide eyes running up and down as she absorbed his change.

“Yea, same Strum. A little different though,” Strum said, choosing to not go into what happened. No point trying to explain when he didn’t even understand the transformation.

Jilde stared at him long enough to make him shuffle uncomfortably, she bit her lip. “I, uh, think-ya-look just fine,” the half-gremlin concluded, looking down at the ground. Strum shrugged and sighed.

“What I look like doesn’t matter. Anyway, I uh, didn’t just stop by to say good-morning. Things are about to get a little hectic around here. I’m going to need close help from you for the next couple of days - you can consider tending to the goat and the garden as Wort’s job until we get through everything. We’ll uh, have to let him handle it alone.”

She wrinkled her nose like she just ate something particularly sour. “Ya-don’t-say-do-ya? Great, I’ll have one-heck-of-a mess to clean up when I can get-back-to my job.”

“Sorry,” Strum looked away and rubbed the back of his head. Typically the two of them worked together to maintain the crops and take care of the goat. What that really meant was that Wort bumbled his way through the tasks by following Jilde’s commands. Her skills were far more useful for forging or other more delicate missions, but she could direct the oaf easily.

Without a direct supervisor, Wort often messed up spectacularly.

Jilde’s scowl softened, and she let loose a mad cackle. Covering her face afterward. “Sorry - don’t-ya-worry Strum. I’m not mad. Just frustrated with that-useless-bum.”

A couple of goblins started stirring in the nearby shacks, likely woken by her cackle. Strum sighed. He didn’t need more attention this morning. At least she’s not holding it against me. “Come-on, let’s uh, get going.” Jilde nodded and fell in line behind him, taking a quick walk to the opposite side of the small cavern.

Wort’s hut was isolated from the rest of the homes in the side-cavern. Out of all the poorly constructed shacks, it was uniquely poorly designed. Even approaching the structure Strum could see the round hobgoblin snoring away behind a half-hanging privacy-hide. Rusty nails poked out of the wooden frame - looking less like a shack and more like a pile of junk thrown together.

The hobgoblin mumbled quietly and turned on his side, it wouldn't be long before he woke up from the light that spilled into the side cavern. Strum cleared his throat. “Wort.”

“Mhmm Mhmm. Stope,” the other hobgoblin moaned. No doubt still talking in his sleep.

“Wake up. We have a busy day.” Strum forced some energy into his voice, but his sore throat protested the decision. Wort opened one big leery eye as Strum rubbed his throat.

“Wort no know,” the large hobgoblin replied, scrunching his eyes. “Wort sleep,” his eyes closed once again, barely taking two seconds before a snore escaped his open lips. Strum sighed and looked at Jilde. Jilde’s fangs came out as she snarled at the sleeping body of Wort.

“Hey-ya-good-for-nothing, get up!” Jilde threw the privacy hide aside and shook the toad-like hobgoblin from his slumber again. Wort shook his head and was forced to his feet as Jilde poked and prodded him. The bumbling oaf slowly but surely stood at her guidance. Once he pushed past his gogginess Wort took a look around him.

His large eyes narrowed as he finally examined Strum. “Whoze that?” Wort asked, balling up his fists.

“Strum, He’s-uh, he’s-ya-know…” she trailed off.

“Ah,” Wort nodded his head. “Wort’s bad. Wort forget he look like,” the toad-like hobgoblin scratched his nose and belched. “Wort farm?”

“Yea, uh, about that,” Strum looked at Jilde who seemed confused. Somehow the toadlike hobgoblin didn’t realize that Strum had changed. In that oaf’s mind, he must have concluded that Strum always looked this way. Well, whatever. “You’ll be on your own for the next few days.”

Wort gave a wide grin. “Wort boss?”

“I, uh, wouldn’t say that.” Strum could see the snarl forming on Jilde’s face. “Try your best, okay?”

“Wort is best.” the large hobgoblin replied, already wandering off. Strum gave Jilde a helpless look. She looked like she was about to stalk off after the idiot and give him an earful. Strum squeezed her wrist to calm her down, watching her take a deep breath.

“Are-ya-finally gunna explain why ya-needed-me or what happened-to-ya?”

Strum looked around the cavern, towards the light spilling in. Pox and Yrx were slinking into the cave from outside, trying to be as quiet as possible. His eyes narrowed and he felt a headache stirring. “What do you think those two are up to?”

“Dunno, If-ya-came and spoke to me more, ya-might-know that they’ve been wandering off at night.” Jilde gave him a smile that exposed her deadly fangs. “Y’know-maybe-ya-should come and spend more time with me-”

Pox spotted Strum, and the bulky goblin’s eyes widened. He watched as Pox pulled Yrx and sprinted off deeper into the cave, likely to find Mallik. “Fuck.” Strum muttered, pulling Jilde after him.