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Race: Draconian

Bloodline Powers: Improved Strength+, Rending, Firebreath+

Greater Mysteries: Fire (Noble) 6, Wind (Noble) 4, Sound (Advanced) 2

Lesser Mysteries: Heat 4, Oxygen 4, Embers 4, Pressure 4, Current/Flow 4

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“There must be something we can do?” Samazzar asked, trying to reign in his growing frustration. “You could build ditches to redirect the predators. Maybe walls to stop them. If that didn’t work, parties with bows could-”

“Thank you,” the center forest folk elder interrupted gently, “but that is not our way. We understand that you are trying to help, but our people will not resort to violence. We take the bounty freely offered by the forest, but we do not press her. Anyone who turns their back on the forest, resorting to violence or eating meat, is no longer able to touch the deep green. As much as it pains us, if predators come, we must move out. It has happened before and it will happen again. Unfortunately, it is the only option.”

Samazzar bit his lower lip, mind racing as he tried to recover. The journey to meet the forest folk hadn’t been terribly difficult. Most animals knew better than to pick a fight with creatures Dussok’s size, and the one or two that strayed too close were quickly scared off by walls of fire that sprang up from thin air. Really, the only cost was the time it took for them to delve deeply into the woods

Still, he had been counting on the forest folk’s support. Their current crops would keep Union City fed and its hearths warm through the winter. Barely. With the help of the folk, they would have been able to introduce new crops and gather fuel more quickly. His plans weren’t completely unraveled, but they were more than a little frayed around the edges.

“What if we resolved the situation? Dussok asked, brushing some of the dirt off of his elbows and knees. “Obviously we can’t promise anything, but maybe the little dragon and I should look into it. We didn’t see any signs of a drought or wildfire while we were traveling to meet you. That means the migration is probably the result of a mega predator moving in.”

“That’s right,” Sammazar said, slapping a fist into his open palm. “There’s a good chance that your problem is the result of a monster turning the plains into its hunting grounds. Dussok and I have some experience with taking down monsters. Keep your people here for another week or so to give us time to investigate the situation. With any luck, we’ll be able to fix the trouble you’re having with the predators and there won’t be any need to move anyway.”

The three elders went perfectly still. Samazzar resisted his urge to fill the ensuing silence with inane chatter, but his mind went whirring off on its own, trying to predict what sort of monsters would be vicious enough to drive predators into the forest. A flock of titanis terror birds would do it, as would a pack of bloodline enhanced wolves, but that didn’t narrow things down much. It could just as easily be a herd of unicorns, or a family of yeti that migrated down from the mountain. Of course, there were hundreds of rarer ancient beasts that-

“Tell us why you would go to such lengths to help our people?” The center elder questioned, the vegetation covering their body rustling as if stirred by some unseen wind. “We are strangers, but you offer to risk your lives to help the folk. While appreciated, we are worried that there may be some unseen conditions to your offer.”

“Nothing unseen,” Samazzar responded, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Our tribe will want to trade with the forest folk, but I haven’t exactly been shy about that. Unless there is a crop failure, there should be enough food for us to survive the winter, but it will be stretched thin. I’ve heard about your race’s ability to grow crops in tight spaces on any surface, including sheer rocks. That isn’t something that kobolds can do. My only hope is that there are some goods or services that we could provide to you that would convince your tribe to help us solve our food supply problem.”

“Fighting some monsters isn’t a terribly new thing for us anyway,” Samazzar continued dryly. “I’m an alchemist, and although many alchemical ingredients can be gathered from nature itself, many of the most powerful potions require reagents from creatures with powerful bloodlines. Dussok and I have taken down monsters much bigger than us in the past, and we will continue to do so in the future.”

“Interesting,” the right forest folk remarked. Samazzar couldn’t help but feel that it was a bit eerie the way the three elders’ conversations blended seamlessly together with one picking up right where the other left off. “Our people are aware of the benefits of alchemy, but actually practicing it means abandoning the deep green. Occasionally, our society would have a member that would voluntarily wall themselves off from the green for the benefit of all, but that is a sacrifice that we cannot ask of an individual. We have been without an alchemist for two generations. While it is true that our people can grow medicinal herbs that help with injuries and illness, those treatments only go so far. A trade where we supply your tribe with the bounty of the forest in exchange for healing salves would benefit both parties greatly.”

“Really?” Samazzar asked, perking up. “There are at least three alchemists amongst the kobolds including myself. Not all of us have the same skill levels, but healing salves aren’t exactly difficult. If your tribe is looking for medical care, we would be happy to provide that in exchange for ingredients.”

“Where is your tribe settled?” The center elder questioned in response. “We must move, but that does not mean that our move needs to be away from your people. If you prove that you can keep the folk safe, that would also be a service that the folk would appreciate.”

Samazzar smiled brightly, turning to look at Dussok. The big draconian only sighed, nodding his head back at him.

“We are a three day walk to the northeast, two days if you are quick,” he replied. “You will have to cross the plains to reach our tribe, but there are some sparse wooded areas on the mountain slope.”

“Do not worry about the lack of forest,” the leftmost elder said dismissively. “The forest follows the folk. So long as there is one tree, we can make a home for ourselves there. Soon, the deep green will spread to cover your mountainside so long as you promise us our peace and silence.”

“That I can do,” Samazzar responded cheerfully. “My goal is for the ‘uncivilized’ and ‘barbaric’ races to live together peacefully. We should all work together to improve our mutual lot in life, but that doesn’t mean turning our back on who we are. I don’t pretend to understand your deep green, but it sounds like taking it away from you would be like taking the sky and fire away from me. I would rather die.”

“Good,” the right elder said, satisfied. “Then we are decided. The draconians shall prove their worth by clearing the forest of predators so that the folk may migrate safely. If they can do so, we will join this new society that they are building so long as our ways are respected and we are allowed to live in peace.

“A contract made, and a promise kept,” the other two elders intoned before Samazzar could muster a bewildered response.

“Wait,” he sputtered. “You want to join Union City? We would love to have you, but I didn’t realize that we were talking-”

“A contract made, and a promise kept,” the elder on the right replied, cutting him off.

Dussok put a hand on Samazzar’s shoulder, drawing his attention. His sibling shook his head, a short, curt motion motion that caused his scales to reflect in the pale light of the mushrooms.

Samazzar sighed.

“Can we at least spend the night here? Dussok and I are a bit worn out after walking all day. We will need a good night’s rest before we wander off and fight the mysteries know what.”

“Very well,” the center elder said. “Gingo will guide you to a place in the clearing where you can set up camp. You will be provided with clean water to drink and stew to eat. Tomorrow, he will travel with you to the plains. He may not be able to fight, but Gingo is one of the best scouts and pathfinders in our tribe. I hope that he will be of assistance to you on your quest.”

He nodded at the three forest folk. In their entire conversation, none of them had moved from their initial seats on the log, and Samazzar hadn’t gotten a good look at any of them. All of them spoke with the same strangely deep voice, so there was no way to differentiate between them. He didn’t even know any of their genders.

Samazzar shrugged as he waited for Dussok to begin crawling out of the meeting room beneath the massive stump. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. The forest folk were strange, but so were kobolds. He couldn’t begin to understand whatever the ‘deep green’ was, but at the same time, there wasn’t much of a chance that the folk would understand the way his blood demanded that he become a dragon.

Dussok pushed his way out of the tunnel, letting fresh air and light wash over Samazzar. A couple seconds later, he followed his sibling out into the forest clearing. Forest folk were walking back and forth in eerie silence. Some were tending careful rows of plants, crops of some sort that he couldn’t quite recognize. Others were feeding and brushing deer, boars, and elk. The majority were still hard at work collecting and packing goods and supplies into four carts that occupied a corner of the grove.

“Here.” Gingo’s deep voice startled him. “Gingo will lead you to where you can camp. We will meet at dawn tomorrow and Gingo will guide you to the plains.”

He didn’t speak, waiting for the draconions to grab their packs before leading the two of them to an unoccupied area next to the Elk pens. Gingo nodded once at a section of grass that had been trampled flat, indicating that Dussok and Samazzar could set up their campsite.

Then he was gone, practically fading from view even though Samazzar could track his movements through the mysteries of wind and heat. It was uncanny. One second the squat moss covered creature was standing in front of them, and the next he was all but merging into the greenery.

“Well,” Dussok said dryly. “That was certainly something.”

“A fascinating society,” Samazzar replied, plopping down onto the ground. “One day, I may even understand half of what motivates them. An interesting enigma for us to unravel as we seek to perfect our bloodlines.”

“I think it’s pretty clear what motivates them,” Dussok responded, unslinging his pack before taking a spot next to Samazzar in the grass. “They want to live a quiet, safe life like everyone else.”

Dussok glanced at Samazzar before shrugging and amending his statement.

“Well, everyone else sane. Most people don’t walk into a cave and look for the biggest and baddest monster there just so they can take it down and drain its bloodline essence.”

“Most people live boring lives,” Samazzar replied. “The forest folk don’t seem boring to me. They want safety, but that’s only a surface concern. Call it a dragon’s intuition, but I can tell that there’s something more going on.”

“Whether it’s a dragon’s intuition or just indigestion, help me with the bedrolls,” Dussok grumbled. “They aren’t much better than sleeping on the ground, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Fine,” Samazzar said airily, popping up to his feet and untying the rawhide tassels that kept his backpack closed. “I suppose we will have an early morning tomorrow if we’re leaving at dawn. It wouldn’t do for us to wake up late and poorly rested.”

He rummaged around for a minute and pulled out his bedroll. By the time he managed to lay it out on the ground, Dussok had produced a handful of smoked venison. The two of them settled down, munching on the meat while chatting about the progress of Union City, future plans, and other inanities. After an hour or two, the sun began to dip in the sky and the two of them crawled into their bedrolls, the strange silence of the forest folk encampment lending itself to an early night.

Samazzar opened his eyes, practically jumping out of his skin when he saw Gingo crouching over him and blocking out the morning sun. For the first time, he finally got a good luck at Gingo’s face. His skin was dappled green and black, face about twice as wide as a human or kobolds with eyes so set so far apart that they were practically on the sides of his head.

“Good,” Gingo said, reaching up to brush a hanging strand of moss from his face. “You’re awake. No need for us to waste time with naps. We should leave before the predators wake from their slumber. It’s safer that way.”

“Gaah!” Dussok exclaimed as he awoke, trying to jerk back but only managing to wrap himself up in his bedroll and sleeping bag. “Too close!”

Samazzar used the momentary distraction of Dussok thrashing to slip out of his own bedroll, standing up and stretching to remove the kinks from his neck and back. It had been easier to sleep on the ground when he was a kobold, but as Samazzar grew larger and heavier. More recently, he’d found himself longing for the large beds of gold coins favored by dragons. It might not be much softer than soil and rock, but it certainly was more aesthetically pleasing. Something deep inside him whispered insistently that it would take care of the aches and soreness that came from sleeping poorly.

“Good morning Dussok,” he said cheerfully, beginning to roll up his sleeping bag. “I hope you slept well. Gingo was just saying that we should head out early. Given his experience in the area, I was planning on deferring to his judgment.”

“That’s fine, but can you tell him to be a little less creepy?” Dussok griped. “I swear, he almost scared me straight out of my scales.”

“Dussok said that you should stop being so creepy,” Samazzar relayed, stuffing his carefully rolled sleeping bag into his backpack. There was no need to bring up that Gingo had almost elicited the same reaction from him a half second before Dussok woke up.

“Creepy?” Gingo asked, sounding the word out like it was unfamiliar. “Gingo doesn’t understand. Gingo interacts with draconians like he does with any individual that isn’t part of the deep green. What is so strange about Gingo’s actions?”

“Showing up out of nowhere in complete silence and lurking in someone’s personal space is usually considered off-putting,” Samazzar replied gently. “Don’t worry, a lot of society’s rules seemed a bit silly to me too. When I first reached Vereton, it took some time before I remembered to consistently wear clothing. Even then, it took at least a month for me to learn that not everyone wanted to hear me gush about my research into alchemy and the mysteries during every meeting.”

“Really,” he continued, wistfulness creeping into his voice, “the only ones that really understood me were Pothas, Adam, and Rose. Adam had his own interests, but we could talk for hours about the mysteries and the lands outside Vereton. I think we were kicked out of bars at sun up a half dozen times. There aren’t many things that make me want to return to the city, but Rose and Pothas are most of them.”

“Gingo will try,” the folk said, brow furrowing. “It is hard to understand why you would wish for him to make unnecessary sounds, but Gingo does not wish to make the two of you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine,” Dussok mumbled, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to offend you or be rude. I was just startled by the way you woke the two of us up. I’ve had my fair share of people treating me like a monster. Even if you surprised me, I shouldn’t have acted like that toward you. It wasn’t fair of me.”

“Gingo does not understand,” the moss covered man replied, “but he accepts your apology regardless. The forest folk do not interact much with outsiders so your ways are strange to us. Korro is telling Gingo right now about some of the many rules your people follow. They seem stupid and pointless, but Gingo does not wish to offend.”

He paused, cocking his greenish black head to the side.

“Apologies,” Gingo continued. “Now Korro is telling Gingo that calling your behavior stupid is also rude. Gingo meant to say that he finds your social norms inefficient and without merit.”

The folk winced, flinching backward as if someone were yelling at him.

“Again, Gingo is very sorry. “Korro says that it is inappropriate and insulting for Gingo to comment on the merit of your norms. At this point, Gingo is just going to be quiet and serve as a guide. Evidently anything he says will be taken poorly.”

Samazzar took one look at the pouting moss covered creature, and he couldn’t help himself. Laughter echoed through the quiet clearing as he finished packing up for their expedition to the plains.