@bloonewb

(Going to be busy for a couple more days, but I will have some more time by the weekend. Thanks for your patience.)

The dracon armies advanced on the dark forces as the kobolds began to pull back. At first, they made some headway when the main body of cavalry managed to flank the dark armies, but as surely as the kobolds had discovered, the enemy began to adapt to their weapons. The abominations closest to the horsemen began to thicken, shifting their anatomy to resist the impact of lances and spears. Switching to swords, the cavalry began to make some headway, however slow.

It didn't escape the mages' notice that the black, almost ink-like magic they faced resembled nothing so much as the Dememoras' post-mortal physical form, a clear indication of a connection between himself, the lost city, and the ancient tyrant. It was a reminder of the high stakes: while Dememoras himself was safely sealed in a vault rather far from Traeton, forces loyal to or connected to him were still active and still a very real danger.

When the fire-beings attacked the dracon lines, Ophion responded with a water spell, creating a cool mist to dampen the flames and soften the effects of any dracons set alight. It was a good move, but only a stalling tactic. Even an archmage such as himself couldn't possibly change the battle single-handedly. Seeing the danger posed by fiery creatures, Adykon led a group of infantry to cut a path behind them and attack from the rear, forcing them to fight on two sides. It helped turn the tide on that one front, but it was obvious that the battle was not going as well as it could be. Although some of the aberrations were falling, many more were still standing, and the rate of attrition was growing for the dracons and kobolds. Worse, the dark forces seemed to be adapting to the magics and tactics employed by both armies.

Mazdak saw that the enemies were employing bombardment tactics against the kobold forces, even as the last of the fire-beings fell. He could see a hole was being cut into the kobold line. All of the generals could see it. He could also see that many of them were obviously eager to exploit the breach the dark ones had created.

"General. General Mazdak, sir!"

"Huh? Oh, adjunct. Report."

"We've got 5,000 reservists ready to go. Shall I order the attack on Rughoi's army?"

"... no. Keep the reservists in the rear for now. Order the mages to concentrate on the largest abominations and order the front lines forward. If they encounter undue resistance, use the reservists to flank them. We do have more than just 5,000 in reserve, yes?"

"Yes, sir, but those are still not in position to help."

"Alright. Give the order!"

The adjunct did so, and the infantry surged forward. The expected magical volley barely materialized. In fact, only the most powerful mages managed to get out a shot. It seemed that something the enemy was doing was interfering with their spells.

"By the gods... I guess we have to do this the hard way." Mazdak mounted up on his riding lizard. "Adjunct, bring the reservists. Have them follow my guard and I. We attack now, and tell them to not let up, no matter what. Adykon is still fighting on, and I'll be damned if I let him fall on my watch!" With that, he moved out to his mounted guards and companions, commanding them to assume a wedge formation to spearhead an attack.

The kobolds, from their position, could only watch as the dracons threw themselves against the Meratids again and again, with disastrous effects for both sides. However, worse was to come. From the fog emerged Merat himself, once a diminutive kobold, now a giant to rival a tower. His very presence forced a tug of hate on Rughoi's soul, and he gripped the reins on his worg harder than he should have. He could see that his army was beginning to lose vigilance, and then they shattered with Merat's roar. Many broke, and ran for the city. Some forced themselves on their knees or began walking towards the Meratids with reverence in their eyes. Even Rughoi himself couldn't stop this magically induced doubt from filling his mind. Is he truly in the right? Does he deserve to be Son of Dragons? He shook the thoughts from his head. This was merely another corruption. He edged his worg forwards. "I cannot sit back and wait for the battle to finish itself," he huffed, drawing his bow.

Rughoi then assembled his worg-riders, choosing from them who he felt had the strongest will. He explained to them his plan to emerge victorious against two armies, both stronger than his. This was one of Sutam's tactics. The ancient Son of Dragons had known that most general's minds were limited to the battlefield, but Sutam thought further. He had famously led an army across the continent and back again just to surprise his enemies with a flank. Rughoi didn't have to go so far. By skirting along the hills, he could evade the stones and the enemy seeing them, and while the Imperial Arm constantly rained arrows down on both opponents, he could strike at Merat himself. "The strength of kobolds!" he shouted, kicking his worg into a charge. "The strength of the Empire!"

____________________________________

Ardasa watched solemnly from the city walls, at the clouds and fog beyond. Occasionally, a spark of fire escaped the grey prison around, a harsh reminder of the risks of battle.

"I still cannot believe my son is to be wed," Krakas murmured from her left.

"Neither can I," Ardasa said with a laugh. Neither of them spoke of what he was doing down there. Eventually, Krakas's hand snaked into Ardasa's.

"A daughter-by-law," she said. "I hope it could be true."

Adykon and his allies fought their way over to Meerat, getting within about five meters before pausing. As much as he wanted to, he knew that charging by himself and with those few who had been able to cut their way through enemy lines alongside him would be suicidal.

"Halt, soldiers. We need to hold the line for a few minutes, then advance when-" before he could say "the armies catch up, Mazdak was seen charging into the fray next to them, along with his surviving riders. Even more surprising to Adykon was that Rughoi was charging enemy lines on a mount himself.

"Attack! Kill the lead creature!" He hoped that by removing the leader, the rest of the enemy army would disintegrate into a disorganized mob. It was known to happen before, but not in every instance where the opposing force consisted of apparently mindless beasts led by a single sentient mind, if that was even the case here.

_____________________

"Perhaps more than one" Kali had joined the other females, peering over the city walls with them. "I know that our kobold gods don't always allow for it, but Rughoi is half-dracon, and not entirely under the purview of our divines. Powerful males of their species customarily take as many wives as they can support. And I don't mean to flatter, but your son is quite the handsome male, Krakas."

The Rughid cavalry leapt out of the hills, the roars of the soldiers matching those of the mounts and the enemies ahead. The Meratids were caught between the kobold worg archers and the dracon formation. Merat must have recognized this, because immediately they began to scatter, some horrors running away from the fighting, a very few leaping at their foes with renewed vigor. Rughoi was not about to let any of them escape. He, in his blind rage, broke off from his support, and charged directly at Merat before he could rejoin the bulk of his forces. However, the closer Rughoi got, the more the doubts began to seep yet again into his head. Surely, he wouldn't be able to take a monstrosity like that himself. He focused, blocking out the thoughts. His arm moved without volition of his conscious mind, and let loose an arrow that sailed through the air and struck Merat in an arm. It didn't seem to do much damage, but it did force Merat to notice him. The fears came back in a torrent, and Rughoi knew then just how big a mistake he made. Merat made an unreadable expression with one of his heads, and opened his mouths. Black smoke billowed out from them, and Rughoi knew on a base animal level that nothing good would come of it. He spurned his worg, though it didn't need much encouraging, and began running. The smoke followed no more than two paces behind him. Rughoi shot another arrow, but it sailed high and missed.

Merat picked himself up and began chasing after his little nuisance, but allowed him to get a bit of a head start first. He knew that Rughoi, even on the back of a larger animal, could not stay ahead him for long. Instead, he opened his mind, feeling at all the dracon mages in the crowd. He offered them a deal he doubted they would refuse. Every one of them got a simple message. Truce. Destroy the Rughids. The Meratids return to their home, and leave Traeton for the dracons.

@bloonewb

Ophion and Aerta received the message from Merat at the same time, and both rejected it immediately. If a being of pure evil wanted them to do something, it was almost certainly a bad idea. Most of the mages came to the same conclusion, although a handful of naive, foolish, or weak-willed magic users took the opportunity to open fire on the kobolds, only to be quickly stopped by their commanding officers.

Being a magic user, Adykon had also received a similar message. While he was primarily a fighter, he had some skill in magical combat. More than Aerta, in fact. She was mostly a ritual sorceress, after all. He charged at Merat, moving as fast as he could, and put himself between Rughoi and the monstrosity, rallying some of his own men to assist in this seemingly suicidal endeavor.

"I don't know what you are or how you came to be, but I will end you!" A vainglorious boast, but one which served to inspire the troops. They liked that kind of trite speech. It was a role the red-scaled dracon had been forced to play time and again since becoming a hero. Or having the title of hero thrust upon him, as it were. Adykon drew his blade and hacked at Merat, knowing that this could only buy some time before he and his followers were overwhelmed. If aid didn't arrive soon, he'd have to retreat. Reluctantly, Adykon called out to the closest thing to reinforcements within shouting distance.

"Rughoi! I don't know if you can hear me, but if you have any troops left willing to save your halfbreed rear, now's the time to call them and throw them against this thing!"

The smoke stuck close to his heels for a few seconds, then suddenly stopped. Rughoi pulled on his worg's hair, slowing it to a halt. A few agonizing seconds of relative silence followed, the din of the swords sounding so far away. Then, a hand shot out of the darkness and wrapped its long, thin fingers around Rughoi's neck. The mount under him barked in surprise, then ran off, leaving its master to die. Rughoi pried at the fingers with one hand, while the other went for the sword at his side. With a deft pull, he released the blade from the scabbard, taking the hand at the wrist. He scrambled out of the now lifeless fingers, already blackening from unnatural rot. Quickly, he replaced the large shield on his back, moving it to his off hand. The smoke parted then, revealing Merat in his horrific form, arms and legs in a tangled mess as he himself fought an entire company of dracons. Most of his heads were locked in a deafening roar, but one turned itself on its neck, far past the normal bounds of a neck, and peered with a withered eye at Rughoi's comparably tiny frame. A jolt of fear, far stronger than the others, ran through his back, stretching up his spine like Hetuis itself has nested in his tail. His arms began to tremble, and the sword, once a confident symbol of protection, now felt too light, too weak. It shook in his hands, as if it too wished to escape from his grasp. Slowly, he forced his legs to move. He blocked out any and every sensory input he could, focusing just on his feet and the ground. One advance, two . . . he could not go further. He was stuck there, frozen by Merat's evil spells tearing at his mind.

"Rughoi," boomed a voice, roaring in his head. "Surrender. I am Son of the Dragon." He could not respond. Neither tongue nor mind would dare move. Fool! While he dawdled, dracons are crushed under the many feet of Merat with nary a second thought! He raised his shield and glared back at the eye. He was Son of the Dragon! The dragon does not negotiate with lesser creatures! This spurned him forward another one, two steps, to meet Merat's new arms. Flesh hung loosely on these new additions to his body, peeling away at various points. Under that was nothing but bone. Bracing himself, Rughoi met the first, which struck his shield with a clang. The next Rughoi took the initiative, and brought his sword up, leaving a stump. Despite this, however, Merat didn't seem inconvenienced in the slightest.

(And, I'm back! I should be able to post every day, with breaks every so often.)

Adykon had seen the entire exchange between Rughoi and Meerat from a distance. Part of him wanted to leave the kobold to his fate, but something in him just couldn't let that happen. Usurper or not, he was still someone in need of rescue, and the two armies were fighting side-by-side against a common foe. Cursing himself for what he could only imagine was overwhelming heroic stupidity, the dracon charged the beast which was now Meerat, blocking the next blow. Then, he ignited his sword, burning the tendrils away. Such a display was something he'd hoped to keep secret, as it was dangerous for anyone to know the extent of his abilities. Secrecy was one of the only protections for his family, as any knowledge about himself or them could and probably would be used against him at some point.

"Get back, you monstrosity! Rughoi may be a traitor, but he's still our traitor! He's of this world, you have no place in this plane!" Taking the initiative himself, he continued to slice away at the darkness, his two-handed sword finding its mark over and over, burning and cutting in equal measures. He knew that none of it would permanently destroy Meerat, any more than such blows had stopped Dememoras some decades before.

He also knew that it didn't have to.

Ophion and Aerta saw that Meerat's physical form was diminished, albeit temporarily. Just long enough for them to cast a powerful abjuration spell around him, keeping Adykon and Rughoi just outside of the spell's radius. The spell itself looked very much like a spherical ball of glass, colored a light blue and divided by green lines which ran horizontally and vertically, curving with the sphere and dividing it into many curved rectangular segments. The "glass" was transparent to an extent, so they could still see Meerat thrashing against the edges of the sphere.

Several other dracon mages joined in the spell, adding their power to it and buttressing the sphere. Whatever control Meerat had over the other beasts was cut, as they suddenly became unfocused and uncoordinated. Then, they began to shrink the sphere down, decreasing the area their spell had to cover while maintaining the same amount of power overall, this giving the sphere more energy per unit of volume. The result was that Meerat's "cage" grew stronger even as it grew smaller, but not all was well. Several of the mages began to waver, even fail in their efforts due to energy depletion. One of them even passed out.

"Are you alright, Rughoi? I don't know if this will work, but we've got to exploit our advantage while we still can!" Adykon offered the self-proclaimed emperor his hand. "Also, I don't know what the 'Son of the Dragon' looks like, but I'm pretty sure that our resident abomination over there isn't him."

Rughoi slapped the dracon's hand away and growled at him in the most intimidating way a kobold could. Unfortunately, it came off as mostly a hiss, but he's quite sure he make his point. "Don't think our mutual enemy makes us friends," he said, and raised his shield. Already, the cage surrounding Merat was beginning to flicker, and some of the dracons responsible have taken to collapsing where they stand, snouts covered in blood. The slow sound of the kobold army making its inevitable advance brought Rughoi back into sharp focus. He looked back, to see the full force of the imperial legion a few hundred feet back, come to join their emperor in battle.

Merat howled within his tiny domain. The rage inherent in such foul magic bubbled up within him and came out in an explosion. Limbs began growing out of him at an alarming rate, and soon, they began penetrating through the force wall imposed upon him to grab at soldiers and mages all around.

Rughoi shouted his command and raised. The collective roar of the kobold infantry, breaking into a full charge, filled Rughoi's heart with pride. This is his chance to remove Merat forever.

@bloonewb

"I'm under no such illusions. This is only until we've dealt with these monsters. After that, there's gonna be a reckoning" Adykon turned his attention back to the abomination which was once known as Meerat, as he had little time to waste on Rughoi under such dire circumstances. Combat made for strange allies, and peace could make for new enemies. Shoving aside any lingering philosophical points, the dracon lifted his blade and began to hack at the limbs within reach. The magical field was cracked and failing, and the feedback from the damage caused to it knocked out a couple of the mages who had been supporting it. The remainder of the field flickered and failed, leaving Meerat free to move around again.

Adykon heard the sound of kobolds marching behind him in large numbers, easily identifiable by scent and their more frequent footfalls. Loathe to run but eager to get out of their way, he ran away from Meerat for a moment, making his way through gaps in their lines, and rejoining Mazdak some distance away, still well within eyeshot of the abomination.

"Well, Maz, now what?"

"We wait. I'd like to see what the kobolds are going to do, and my cavalry is still reforming. When they do, we can charge again."

"Can anything we have here beat this thing?"

"Given enough time, yes. Ophion will think of something if we can't beat it by sheer force."

"And if he can't?"

"Then at least these monsters will do our job for us and kill the kobolds." Adykon wasn't sure what to think about that one.

"I-I still believe we should help them. They're not all bad, and many of the kobolds are understandably upset after being mistreated in many of our cities and realms."

Mazdak gave Adykon a rather quizzical look before replying. "I didn't think you'd go soft on 'em. I know you're a very prolific father and they must remind you of your children, and frankly, they're only as smart as children at best, but that's no reason to let them off the hook for seizing Traeton."

"Maz, this- this is why these kobolds revolted in the first place. This attitude. We'll kick them out of the city, but they'll be treated fairly."

"I- if you say so" Mazdak replied, noncommittally.

The first line of spears met Merat with a resounding clatter. Immediately, Merat's many limbs went to work, either smashing legionnaires into the ground or snatching them up to drop in one of the abyssal mouths of his many insatiable heads. Rughoi groaned in frustration. Merat's power cannot be unlimited! The second wave quickly followed the first, already in desperate need of reinforcing. The kobold lines hammered tirelessly at Merat's nigh-impenetrable frame. Arrows were as numerous as dust motes, arcing through the air and blanketing the area around the central conflict.

He had to think. Taking the problem head-on was amounting to little, if at all. With each passing second, a valuable member of the army is lost to the gaping maw of the many heads. He noticed how the limbs are now so many that they seem to clash and block each other's way. Then the idea struck him in a fit of desperate inspiration. He looped around the gigantic frame of his enemy to the distracted back legs, now so numerous they weave together like a net. Then, he began climbing. Merat must have noticed the movement at his flank, because suddenly he shook with all the might of his profane form. Rughoi could not hold on, and his claw lost its stamina. He tumbled and hit the ground hard. Already, he was scrambling back to his feet to try again. Kobold vigilance will win the day, one way or another.

Adykon and Mazdak prepared another charge when Ophion suddenly teleported in next to them.

"Gahh! By the gods, can you warn us when you're gonna do that?!"

"Sorry, Mazdak. Anyway, I've conferred with the other mages. We've come to the conclusion that the best way to beat this thing is to wear it down until it just runs out of power and collapses. It can't regenerate forever, and once it falls, the lesser beasts accompanying it will also fall."

"A crude tactic, but it works" Mazdak remarked.

"Yeah, yeah. Just keep hitting it. What do we do?" Adykon inquired.

"For now, just let the kobolds do that their, then we hit it if it doesn't fall. Then we keep pulling in whatever forces can be spared from fighting the other creatures, and repeat the process" Ophion said.

"And if it doesn't work? I have men under my command you know. I can't be profligate with their lives" Mazdak added.

"Then we'll formulate another strategy involving magic" Ophion told him. "Just be glad the kobolds are taking their turn at the abomination right now."

The kobolds quickly catch on to their emperor's plan. With a roar, they swarm Merat's form, climbing up his body like a swarm of ants. They cover him until little of Merat could be seen under, then begin stabbing. Swords, daggers, even a few kitchen knives make gruesome work of the gigantic figure. Limbs grow, and are hacked off again in a matter of seconds. Merat's bellows and trembles throw off little fighters in the dozens, but such is little compared to the rest of the legion, resting quite neatly on shoulders and hanging off of knees as they saw them.

Rughoi knew that the effectiveness of this tactic was not sustainable. He was still losing good soldiers, fast. They had Merat on the ropes now, but soon, he will adapt to the situation again, and everyone would have to start over. He needed to strike now, while the iron is hot. But with what? He needed more hands, more support for this final push up to Merat's heads. "You!" he bellowed, gesturing to the nearest guard. "Fetch your worg and ride for Traeton! Get the auxiliary guard, militia, anyone!" but the soldier didn't seem to hear. It seems, once again, all of it came down to his own personal management. He began climbing at a haphazard rate up to his final goal, the heads. Occasionally, he would slip and lose ground, or suffer a near plummet to his death, but a hand from a loyal soldier would catch him, pull him up with an encouraging chorus, and help him on his way. The end was in sight, but only if he had just a bit more help.

Adykon and Mazdak looked at the kobold attack with an almost stunned silence. Then, Adykon spoke.

"Well, they... they certainly know how to sacrifice themselves. Maz, don't you think we should help them?"

"In a moment. Let's just wait for a few more of them to die. No sense in leaving any of them alive if we don't have to."

"Maz, you're a friend of mine, and I respect our friendship. But sometimes, you can be a real jerk. They're dying so we don't have to, and all you can think of how this will make our fight easier?!"

"It's a strategic insight" Mazdak replied, trying to defend his callousness.

"We'll deal with it later. Do we have enough troops assembled for one more advance?"

"Yes. Several more if we need to-"

"Good enough. "ALL SOLDIERS! Follow me!" Adykon charged out, leading an animated charge against Meerat and whatever abominations would throw themselves in their way." The dracons began chopping into Meerat, slicing away what 'flesh' of his was left, if one could call the black material which comprised his body 'flesh', 'skin', or even 'alive.'

It was a long way down. The head swayed uncomfortably, and Rughoi felt as if he had to tap-dance just to keep his balance. All around were angry rows of needle teeth, snapping at him from all sides. He raised his shield, only to have a head strike it with unnatural force. Still, by a miracle of Arda, he was barely standing. That was quickly challenged when Merat lurched sideways, and it sounds as if the battle cry ringing out from his soldiers was being joined by more. He tried to ignore the constant twisting of his innards as he peered over the end, to find that the dracons have joined the final push. Rughoi wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or angered by this action. He, on his perch, shakily drew his sword, and closed his eyes. If Arda could hear him, she would bless his hand to strike true. He slammed down his blade, entering Merat's eye. That is, the one on the very top of this particular head. It passed through, running down to the hilt. Merat made no noise, but the head slumped over, and Rughoi was now barely hanging on by his sword, stuck in the skull.

The other heads went wild, no longer moving with any semblance of coordination. Rughoi waited for the moment, then pulled his sword from the eye. He dropped, and landed on a head below. Wasting no time, he began hacking at the head, this one not possessing an eye on top. Something changed. Merat was thrashing and shaking, and suddenly he stopped. His body began to teeter, this way, then that, until finally collapsing on the sandy floor. Rughoi leapt off and made a quick and rude acquaintance with the sand. He scrambled to his feet, sword in hand, looking up at the grim faces of the dracons surrounding him. This way and that he turned, but he couldn't find a way out. It would take a miracle of Arda's mercy to allow him to keep his life now.

There was a flash of bright white-blue light next to Rughoi. Aerta stepped over to him, taking the hybrid by the arm.

"Hang on! We're getting out of here!" She teleported a short distance, putting them next to Adykon and Mazdak, who was standing behind a phalanx of dracons. None of them were trying to kill the kobolds.

"Seems like we're on the same side after all" Mazdak told Rughoi, raising his voice over the din of battle. "And for what it's worth... you did well. Your warriors' sacrifices spared many dracons today, many of my soldiers. You have my thanks."

Adykon moved forward, putting himself between Mazdak and Rughoi. "There's still time to fix this. You don't care for me or for dracons. I get it. When this battle is over, all I ask is that we can have some talks, and that you'll be willing to give as well as get in the negotiations. If you insist, we can fight this out to its final absurdity, or you can put down your weapons when this battle is over and live. And continue to rule over your people. Your choice."

"Plus, your mother wants to talk to you after this fight" Aerta added. "She's worried sick."

"Yes, thank you, Aerta" Adykon said, not sure that such a child-like detail was needed.

The blue light came out of nowhere, blinding Rughoi just as he was about to face a dracon warrior. A loud ringing blasted in his ears, and he doubled over, clutching his head. He felt a hand touch his shoulder, and the muffled voice piercing through the thickness in his head. Then the bright light came back, and his entire body erupted into a burning pain.

For a moment, he felt weightless, like he was made of air. He felt for whatever reason at home, like he's been in such a state before. Even the pain, once the most excruciating thing he had ever encountered, felt like no more than a mild chill. Then, the feeling left all too quickly, and the burning pain returned. He felt the ground beneath him, and looked up through blurry eyes to see the face of three enemy generals. He leapt to his feet, and raised his sword, but his legs would not heed him for long, and he buckled, tumbling back into the dirt.

"Talk?" he groaned, clutching his head. "Negotiations? We're here now. Talk, and talk quickly."

Adykon helped him stand again. "Rughoi, this isn't really the time or place for this sort of thing. Plus, you don't look so good."

"I'll get Kali!" Aerta teleported away to find the kobold priestess. Adykon sighed, knowing that Rughoi wasn't going to listen to reason. "Alright, how about these initial terms. You leave Traeton and found a city of your own near some mountains, away from major dracon settlements. We give your people a blanket amnesty for now, and you take whatever you can carry from the city. In return, you pledge not to fight any dracon states unless attacked first. Break the terms and you'll never be trusted or negotiated with again. From that point on, it would be a war to the death." Mazdak simply nodded, not wanting to fight Adykon over this. Not now.

Aerta teleported back with Kali. The priestess quickly examined Rughoi. "He'll live, but he's in a lot of pain. We should get him to his mother."

"No!" Rughoi rasped, pulling back from Kali's outstretched hands. "No magic, no teleportation, no closer." His hands searched around for his sword, but he found none. So instead, he steadily pushed himself to his feet, which threatened to give out under him again. He swayed, glaring through unclear eyes in Akydon's general direction. "You . . . I know you. My people speak in hushed whispers, but there's no doubt about it. The Thorn of the Emperor, they say. It annoys me to no end." He then experimented with walking. Hesitantly, he picked up one of his feet and set it down a little ways away. It shook, but held. Perhaps he was getting better.

"You want Traeton? You would dedicate tens of thousands of soldiers to that ruin? Fine. I will gather up my people, and we will settle in our own land. However, we want reparations. My people need to eat and build their houses. Those things require gold, simple as that." He stood there, looking up at who for the longest time was his enemy, and found his own harsh expression mirrored back at him.

Adykon sighed. The kobold hybrid still didn't understand. "Reparations? Rughoi, you are lucky that you escape with your life. If anything, you are the one who has reparations to pay. Taking over a city, overthrowing its king, looting its treasury, terrorizing tens of thousands of people, and wrecking dozens if not hundreds of buildings is something to demand compensation over. Now, odds are your followers are going to loot whatever's left to take from Traeton-"

"Like vultures picking meat from the bones of-!"

"-Thank you, Mazdak. As I said, odds are your people will take as much plunder with them as they can carry. That's your 'reparations' right there. Now, if you don't want to be teleported, I can have Aerta find your mother and bring her to you, once we get back to safer area. Battle's not over yet, but the tide has definitely turned."

Rughoi was not blind. He knew well enough that without Merat coordinating his forces, the horrors he brought with him were no more than wild beasts, to be quickly put down by the superior discipline of the combined armies. But now his enemies have him surrounded, thrown out of his center of protection to face their wrath. For wrath, they are keeping it well hidden. Dracons, proud and arrogant, even now.

"What I did I did for the kobold people. Had you been where I was, you would do the same at least, if not more. Now, I am accepting the premise of your demand. What could you possibly want more than that? Fine, you want to keep the gold? I ask for no gold. Bread, wood, and stone are what my citizens need more. Something to eat, something to build with. Surely, the dracon nobles in their jeweled spires can spare that," he hissed.