The sun crept through the dingy window and warmed across Baldir’s sleeping form. He’d passed out late in the night after talking with Leoric. The gods were working in mysterious ways, but Baldir knew he’d never felt this safe in a party before. Something felt comfortable, like he was responsible for something. Still the urge to steal their ill-gotten gains and run off was everpresent, but he was promised his own inn and bar and a safe retirement if he’d just follow this path. For once, he found it easier to not be a miserable cheat.

He had one of the beds to himself, the first time in a long time. Aside from the pesky daylight warming him uncomfortably, it was a nice rest. He opened one eye to hear gentle snoring and it took a long moment to realize that he had the gnome, the kobold and the dragon with him.

He heard the gentle rustle of the bed and saw Saw scritch at Leoric’s feet. Her eyes were open unblinking. Her nictitating membrane flicked sharply and she took a cautiously slow step forward on all fours. Her tail was lifted high. He was once again reminded of her gecko-like nature.

He pursed his lips, ready to say something and saw as she cautiously stepped one foot, then another, stalking Leoric who slept soundly, mouth wide open, snoring at an appreciable volume for one so small.

“Scritch?” Baldir asked cautiously.

Blast was propped up on her back legs, head raised high as she watched Scritch with pupils in thin slivers. Her tail was straight out to balance, like a meercat, interestedly watching her caretaker stalk over him.

“Shh, is dangerous,” She said as she raised a single little clawed hand up over Leoric’s face and brought it down with a gentle plop over his mouth.

Leoric inhaled, cheeks sucked in, air halted by the hand on his mouth and made a snorting choking noise before flailing and blustering Scritch back.

“Aye gads, child! What the seven hells are ye after?” He asked.

Scritch made a shrill sharp noise that sounded like ‘skreeeeee.’

Blast observed the debacle with a put-upon expression and clamored atop scritch’s back to smack at her head with her front paw. Leoric struggled up and coughed his morning smoker’s wretch and heaved a wavering breath.

Scritch, obviously rattled, snatched Blast to her chest, curled into a ball and made a series of chittering shrill noises.

“Scritch, what the hell are ye doing?” Baldir shouted.

“Granpa was gonna make fire in his sleeps so I stopped it!” Scritch announced as Blast wriggled free of her grasp. Blast used her front paw to smack at Scritch’s nose in a half-consoling half-admonishing gesture and chittered back.

“Gnomes do not make fire,” Blast said.

“Easy easy, twas just snoring,” Baldir said, waving to the scared Kobold and the annoyed baby dragon.

“I do it often. It’s harmless,” Leoric said with a yawn before reaching over to pat Scritch on the head.

“Says you,” Baldir said with a huff before sliding off the bed to gather their belongings. Scritch flopped over onto the covers with a soft thud and stuck all four of her legs into the air. Her eyes were strangely dilated, and she pawed at her head.

“Head hurt?” Leoric asked as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve to get the taste of her hands out of his mouth. She made a shrill noise of acknowledgement.

“Well come on, let’s get you some water. You’re hung over,” Leoric said before following Baldir’s lead to gather their things.

They sat back up at the table and set the gold up. Blast bounded off Leoric’s bed, onto Baldir’s and sailed onto the table with a scramble before climbing atop the bag as Baldir righted it.

“We have to budget, and we’re going to do this right. The gods promised me a dragonweed farm if I stuck with you, so I’m going to make sure you are successful no matter what,” Leoric said.

“Yes! We decide how much of the gold to surrender,” Blast said anxiously as she clawed open the drawstring and slid her entire body into the bag in a fluid-like motion. There was some kicking and digging sounds in the bag as the clink of metal coins within were heard. Blast stuck her head out and dropped a few copper coins onto the table with a proud look.

“We shall surrender only this much,” She announced.

“For what? Breakfast? We need twenty gold for the wagon, another ten for a mule, a few gold for Scritch to get some armor, ten gold for supplies and food, and I’d appreciate it if Baldir and I got a few gold each just to give us our own spending money. It makes us more loyal since we don’t fear you,” Leoric said seriously to Blast. She looked downtrodden.

Her earfins laid back against her head. Her eyes went wide with sorrow. She hadn’t counted on so much of her already-miniscule horde being spent so soon.

“This will keep you and Scritch safe,” Leoric assured.

Blast looked anxiously from Scritch to Baldir to Leoric as thoughts ran through her mind.

Ordinarily a dragon wouldn’t care at all about a single kobold, but the bond was there and strong. She was hesitant, thoughtful, and dug back into the sack.

“That’s twenty for the wagon, ten for a mule, ten for supplies, and five gold for each of you. That’s fifty gold? Blast asked.

“That’s more than generous,” Leoric said with a sage nod.

“And how much gold will keep Scritch safe?” Blast asked sternly.

“How much?” Baldir asked.

“We get five each, but I think Scritch needs about that much, too, to get her a weapon and some armor,” Leoric said.

“She’s got a fancy crossbow, but I’d like it restrung before I lose an eye,” Baldir grumbled before searching his pack and pulling out the arbalest. It had magic about it, and with a little polishing and a new string it would be good as new.

Blast scrambled around in the sack and pushed free the gold coins a few at a time. They hit the table and clanged loudly as Leoric rationed them out. Carefully into small piles. At the end, she made a pile of several gold, a few gems, and six silver pieces.

“This is for Scritch. Make sure she is taken care of. A dragon is only as good as her kobolds, and I do not have many,” Blast said sternly.

Leoric separated and bagged their golds in various bits of cloth, tucking each away in his pouch for safe keeping before handing Baldir his sack and tucking away his own discretely.

“Is that enough?” Leoric asked.

“A few nights of partying and drinking I’d say,” Baldir said with a grin before offering his arm for Blast to climb.

The three sat off with gold in hand and a goal in mind.

The mule was their first purchase and they found a peddler selling young ones at the edge of town. They were broken and slow things with a friendly demeanor. Blast climbed atop the beast with a scramble and it barely flicked its ear as she perched on her back legs atop its head with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Yes. I am the tallest,” She said to herself in a low chitter that earned a polite grin from Leoric. Scritch looked nervous as she scampered around its hooves.

“Cute lizard you got,” The peddler said. Scritch gave a toothy grin that unsettled him before he pointed to Blast.

“The other one,” he said uneasily. Scritch deflated a little and Blast puffed up indignantly.

“You’re cute, too,” Baldir said in a low grumble.

Scritch puffed up a little and lifted her tail. She turned her bright wall-eyes up to him for an uneven blink and reptilian grin. Baldir forced a smile.

“Welp, thank you so very much. You said the wagonmaker is where?” Leoric said, interrupting Blast’s impending fury.

“Come on, we’ve places to be,” Leoric said before handing the reigns to Baldir, the tallest of them, to make their merry way into town to the markets to buy a used cart.

They were fortunate to find a merchant selling an older cart that he’d outgrown for a few gold below budget and the mule hooked to it with a dream.

Scritch scampered around the inside of it. It was big enough to hold plenty of supplies and sleep the four of them if they reenforced the shelves into small barracks. Baldir was more than capable of doing that with a few chocks of wood.

Their supplies came slowly and Scritch scampered up the alleyways between legs of peddlers and shopper alike with curious glances at all the strange things for sale. It wasn’t until Leoric reached a vendor willing to work on her arbalest did she start taking interest in things for herself.

“I want that!” She said, pointing to a nearly barren stall at the end of a row. It was a newly-established merchant putting his wares up, armor by the looks of it, imported.

“What are you wanting?” He asked, squinting.

“I want the thing that he has on his arm, only I put it here,” She said, gesturing to a shoulderpad of the armor then her chest in a proud pat.

Leoric looked from the pauldron of the armor to Scritch’s diminutive frame. The idea wasn’t a bad one and he was surprised for a moment before he remembered that Kobolds were creatures of ingenuity.

“Okay, go as how much he wants,” Leoric said before sending her off on her way.

Scritch scampered excitedly and ran to the stall. Her eyes were big, glistening and excited as she stared at the armor, but things about it seemed odd.

The chest plate was made of different metals, thought it looked the same, she could tell the composition was off. There was an enchantment about it, and thought she could feel the magic, it was nothing of consequence, insignificant. Her instincts were buzzing and the vendor bragged to a patron, swearing to him it was dwarven-made. Scritch had seen dwarven armor, and though the armor wasn’t bad, it was certainly not dwarven.

She looked to the merchant. He was pale and thin, the sickly kind of scrawny man with mealy facial hair that could only be from generations of inbreeding, the likes of which only nobles could afford. His clothes were sharp, and the longer she glanced at them, by some strange instinct she knew they were expensive. The knowledge tickled at her mind and numbers seemed to pop into her thoughts. She shook her head.

She stared at him for a long time, unblinking until the customer went on their way. She tugged on his pant leg politely and the man looked down at her with an uncomfortable sneer.

“Hi, I’m Skritch,” She said in her shrill grating tones. She had two gold coins clutched in her tiny clawed hands. Her little reptilian mouth was curled into its permanent innocent smile and her eyes glistened pleadingly.

“Yes…hello,” He said with distaste as he took a step back.

“I want to give you this gold for the shiny arm bowl,” She said before pointing to the set of mismatched armor and then gesturing to her own shoulder.

His uncomfortable sneer turned into a disgusted grimace.

“We don’t serve animals,” He said before shaking his leg.

He drew his foot back and swung in a sharp motion, colliding with Scritch’s belly with his cowled leather boots. The thunk of sound was audible as she tumbled back several feet into the dirt and dropped her coins. He chuckled to himself and bent low, picked up the coins and turned his back on her with a smug and self-satisfied grin.