@Shadow Dragon

"For starters, there's no need to pull off fatigue from me. As much as I probably ought to thank you for it, I should also let you know that necromantic energies come with unpredictable side effects. Thank you for doing it this once, but please refrain from doing that again. Now, if you want to do anything for Aurescia and I, you should let my wife cook you dinner and obey all of the rules she sets. Gods knows she's given me enough trouble about taking my robes off in the living room."

"I heard that!" A soft, feminine voice emanated from the next room, leading Ophion to let out a tiny sigh. "Don't worry, I'll have a clean set of clothes for you, Soul!"

"And by that, she means she'll want you to go around in a loincloth when around the house. Or at least, the living quarters of this place. You'll need to have more when you go outside, or even into the store."

Aurescia entered the room a few minutes later, holding several pairs of shirts, vests, pants, and undergarments. It was quite a pile. In fact, the pile of clothes stretched from her belly to above her head, so that only her horns could be seen barely poking over the shirts.

"Aurie, are you sure you didn't go overboard?" Ophion looked over the pile and wondered just how much of his money she had spent on it.

"Not at all! In fact, I was afraid I didn't buy enough. Elves are the most fashionable race, after all. At least, that's what all the books on them say."

"I-I'm not quite sure that the literature on the elven races supports that assertion." Aurescia ignored her husband, holding up a white shirt for Soulcors to examine.

"This'll look just darlingon you, once you put on that cute elf body!"

@bloonewb

Kali held her young daughter in her arms. While she wasn't an infant anymore, Varani was still quite young. The kobold priestess' duties allowed her little time off to spend with her offsping, so she was determined to make the most of this day. It was possible for her to request a transfer of duties to become a part-time priestess, but doing so would risk her standing with the temple and possibly reduce her access to the court of the 'emperor.' He still kept that title, in spite of the very real risks it posed. Even so, it hadn't doomed Xigyll, hadn't provoked the dracons, and hadn't brought doom on them all. At least, not so far. If there was a danger, Rughoi's imperial title wasn't the cause of it.

"Skanoi! Come on! You don't need to wear that much for a trip to a bath house!"

In the next room, a young male rummaged through his closet, pulling out a red tunic which went down almost to his knees.

"Mom! We'll be in the streets! You told me we can dress nicely when we're outside!"

"You're just going to have to take it off as soon as you get there, and we're not going far. You said you wanted to visit the Baths of Rughoi, and now we are!"

"No, you said you wanted us to visit it, mom!" Kali let out a little sigh, wondering if dracons had to deal with this sort of contradiction from their family members.

"Don't talk back to your mother, son. Besides, it'll have everything you could possibly want. Swimming pools, warm baths, saunas, massages-"

"Those are girl things!" Skanoi snapped back, clearly not looking forward to what he thought would be a boring day lying around in a pool.

Kali lowered her voice and briefly addressed Varani. "At least my little girl likes the water, doesn't she?"

She kicked her little legs and nodded in agreement. "Wa-per! Wa-per!"

"Eh, close enough."

Kali turned her snout towards the living room, not wanting to argue with her son further at the moment. "Kutur! You ready yet! You can bring the books with you if you like! There's a library built into the bath complex!" There were two, in fact; one in draconic, the other in every other language available to the scribes of Xigyll, which mostly meant common and undercommon, but they had a few tomes in elven, dwarven, and a few more.

He laughs softly. "You think I don't know that? I've had more experience in necromancy then you ever will, especially considering your personal......distaste, for my magics." He smiles softly at Aurescia with his glowing eyes. "Drow wear armor and black for the most part." He chuckles, the sound echoing in his helmet. "You're likely thinking of High elves. Possibly Wood elves." He sighs faintly, thinking of the home he left behind. "What books you do have are likely incomplete, very old, and inaccurate." His smokey form ripples softly. "So. What rules would those be?"

@Shadow Dragon

"Oh, I'm sure you know that, but given how you use them, I'm inclined to think you don't care very much about the side-effects" Ophion replied, giving Soulcors a toothy smile. "Aurie, we don't have any armor, do we?"

"Afraid not, my love. We have some black clothes in this pile. I take it my sources need to be updated, as you said. There wasn't much about dark elves. All of the pictures were of light-skinned elves in cities or forests" Aurescia set the clothing down. "As for the rules, there aren't very many. First, make sure you wash your feet before entering the house. I don't care about the store, but I need to keep the living areas clean. Second, make sure to put your dirty clothes into a laundry bag after coming inside. I understand that elves don't dress as lightly as dracons do at home, mostly, but if you could, please use only a loincloth when in the house."

"One other thing-" Ophion interjected. "When you're wearing a body, will your helmet be lying around somewhere? Is there anywhere for us to store it when you are in a living body?"

He shrugs. "I'm made of it. Side effects mean nothing to my body." He lases his hands together, black bone fingers interlocking in the smoke. "Oh well. The armor would likely be too hot anyway." He shrugs. "Perhaps I can get some made later...." He taps his finger against his helmet. "Drow live in caverns for the most part. Wood elves live in the treetops, and high elves live in sophisticated cities. I'm considered strange, even for a Drow, because I leaned nature magic when I was living. Shortly before I died, now that I think about it....." He nods, listing to the rules of the house. "Wood elves do. High elves would see dressing in so little as a great offence. Drow don't care. We mostly wear clothing for comfort, rather then style." He stops to think about the last question. "I.....don't think so. I think it'll either be integrated into my new body as some tattoo or glyph, or just appear as a helmet. I'm not sure."

@Shadow Dragon

"Well, however it appears, we'll deal with it. I trust it will re-materialize when you leave the body behind. Just remember to put the body back into stasis, or else it will risk dying of thirst if you don't return to it in a few days. You were an elf, not a camel, after all" Ophion reminded him. "I suppose you can enter the body in the tank. I can open it to let you out."

He nods. "I'm going to have to get used to breathing all over again." He nods. "I'll be sure to put them back in the tank when I'm done. Though I'm going to have issues walking again." He starts slightly. "I haven't walked, breathed, or dunking anything in centuries." He carefully sets his scythe down, and begins fuzzing strangely, his form wrapping around the body, and seeping into it as he possesses the shell of a body. He flexes the hands, and opens the eyes of his new form.

@Shadow Dragon

Ophion was surprised to see how quickly the integration went. And how smoothly it seemed to go. Of course, there was no guarantee that it would hold. As the body Soulcors took was a copy of his own grown specifically for him to use as a shell, it had no soul of its own. Therefore, he shouldn't have encountered any resistance to using it.

"Soulcors, Can you hear me? If you can stand, please do so. I'll open the tank when it's clear you can walk."

Aurescia looked at the drow, freshly "born" with a soul in him. "I'll get you some clothes, don't worry" she held up a loincloth, waiting to give it to him.

He carefully stands, shaking, trembling, and braces himself on the wall of the chamber, waving to Ophion. "I'm....fine, for the most part." He stretches as much as he can inside the small chamber, his helmet changes into a integrated tattoo, covering his face in black swirls. His eyes glow softly white. "I....have flesh....for the first time in centuries....." He knocks carefully on the see through door. He blinks, startling himself for a moment. "What.....what'll my scythe feel like, after all this time?"

@Shadow Dragon

"I don't know. I don't see it on you. Perhaps you can summon it? Anyway, I'm opening the cylinder" he waved his hands and the door on the tank swung open. Aurescia came over to Soulcors immediately and handed him a white loincloth. "Please, tie this on. There are some things about elves that I don't think anyone around here needs to see."

He nods, tying the cloth around his waist. "Thank you." He looks at his hands, fascinated, and holds out his hand for his scythe. "I....can feel things again. After so long...." It appears in his hand, fuzzy at first, then stabilizes. He rests his hand against his head, and softly begins brushing his long white hair. "This feels so strange. I'm.......in a body, that's not fighting me for control...." He smiles.

@Shadow Dragon

"You may need some time to get used to exerting control again. There is a small delay between willing a movement and the movement itself, although for living creatures, this time is almost always undetectable" Ophion explained. "If you need some help, just let me know, my friend. That you remembered how to tie on that loincloth and that you have the dexterity to do it is a good sign, at least. Still remember it from your living days, don't you?"

"Coming!" Kutur shouts, looking up from his studies. Peace, for other people, meant a life of quiet and carefree leisure. Peace, for other people, meant relaxing at the bath, coming home to their bound mates, and perhaps taking a dip in the rivers on a fresh sunny day. Peace for him, however, meant paperwork. Loads of paperwork, coming from all across the empire, to be approved from Xigyll. Most have to do with the construction of a network of fortresses springing up across the mountains, from which legions may be stationed and ruled over by commanders. He didn't even know when this project started, nor where Rughoi came up with the idea, just that it showed up one day, and now they're filling his cabinets. He hastily scrawls a reply for one of these forts, one too far away from the capital to truly be of much worth. Perhaps there was a village out there?

The commotion outside was evidence enough that his wife was getting annoyed with him. She had always been more assertive with he, and he doubted if anyone in the empire aside from Rughoi would dare to disagree with her to her face. Well, Rughoi and of course, their children. He packed away his books, setting them hurriedly on their shelves, before grabbing his robes and slipping it on. "I'm here, I'm here," he muttered, entering the main room and tying the knot on his robes. All eyes were on him. "Well then, to the baths?"

@bloonewb

Kali tapped her foot, somewhat impatient. "Kutur, you said that you'd have this clerical work done by now. Surely, the messages can wait a few hours. No one's even picking up letters today." She gave him a harsh look, but it quickly melted into a smile when she saw him tying on his robes. The priestess walked over and gave him a little kiss.

"That's better. Off to the baths. Come on, kids! Oh, Skanoi, can you get the ball?" The young male nodded and ran into his room to retrieve a brown leather ball filled with straw. It wasn't much, but it made for a nice little toy for the kids.

"Got it, mom!"

"Wonderful. Is everyone else ready?" Everyone nodded, not wanting to delay things even more, lest the mother of the house give them a lecture.

"Right then, let's go!" The walk to the Xigyll bathhouse was a fairly uneventful one. Even though the city was still under construction, it was already packed with kobolds in some places. Between high rates of immigration and the high natural birthrate that kobolds were known for, it was no wonder that so many were living there. The city streets were still largely unpaved, and Kali had to warn her son to watch his step.

"Skanoi, be careful! The streets aren't paved yet, and I don't want you to step on any rocks!"

"Mom, my feet aren't THAT soft!"

"I just don't want you getting hurt, son. It would be painful to me or your father, so imagine how bad it would be for you."

Skanoi walked back to his parents. "Dad, is she right about that?"

@Aristocles

"In a sense, yes." He readjusts the cloth, and shrugs. "I'm...." He smiles softly. "Thank you." He lifts his hand, and spins his scythe in a slow loop. He sets the weapon down, and stretches. "This.....will take some getting used too.....it's like I'm in some kind of fitted suit, that I've only seen, never worn..." He smiles, and stretches softly. He whispers to himself, "I....I'll think of someway to repay this...." He runs his fingers on the flat of his scythe, enjoying the feeling of the cool metal.

@Shadow Dragon

"Never worn? This is a copy of your original flesh, but it may take you some time to re-acclimate to it" Aurescia told him. "How does it feel to, well, feel again?"

"Aurie, one step at a time. Soulcors, can you separate from your body again, just for a few seconds? I want to see if you can enter it again without difficulty" Ophion asked him.

He laughs softly. "Do remember, I've been dead for longer then I've been alive." He stretches out, trying to get used to it, then nods at Ophion's question. "Should I put it back in the tank?" He walks, somewhat unsteadily towards the open tank, and looks back at the wizard and his wife. They're so willing to help a dead man. He chuckles softly to himself.

@Shadow Dragon

"Yes, well, most people who have died were dead much longer than they ever were alive" Ophion noted. "Life is meant to mark one's path for eternity, and is basically one's preparation for it. That's why we have religions. Anyway, no, you don't need to put it back in the tank, just see if you can separate and re-integrate with it on the spot, please."

"What, do you mean the biology of it?" Kutur asked. "Well, let's see. It is true, as the scholarly texts say. Precious few of them are left, or rather, have never existed in the first place. Our library draws primarily from dracon sources and the transcription of tribal shamans, both of which are not completely empirical, or for the matter, without bias. However, we may be reasonably certain that your feet won't develop the callouses of an adults until about nine years or so, whereupon . . . " Kutur began to drone on about his knowledge of kobold anatomy, muttering more to himself than to his son. Trying to recall the various scraps of knowledge he had dredged from comparing the sources of the Librarium Constantseae, the various dracon lords' texts throughout the continent, piecing them together in his head as he tended to do. Eventually, he stopped talking altogether, save for the occasional "hmm, indeed" when within his own mind he broke though his own fog of questions.
_______________________
Mardex looked out from his perch on the great walls at the growing village below. It was not sizable, certainly not yet. No settlement in the empire could yet hope to compare with the might of Xigyll city. Mardex' own hadn't even yet a name, excepting its various descriptive nicknames by the locals. However, his fort was impressive, no question about that. Behind the Rughid palace in the capital, he might say without a doubt that his own domain is the most magnificent from the Northriver to the Varganix. Dracon names, once common in use, were being eroded from the minds of Xigyll's inhabitants, and being replaced by their own. New counties, new commanderies, were being drawn on the maps. It was as if the land itself were changing, becoming a true kobold home. He had yet to think of a name for what would one day become the centerpiece of a mighty city. "Greygrass? Narvandul?" he mused to himself. Then, a flash from the horizon caught his eye, and from it a plume of smoke. Rage filled him then. His army was in the fort. This was an infringement upon his supremacy, possibly from that traitor the Count Risi. Every day he wears at the line drawing his lands, which he was quick to arrogantly name Risihold, and his own. Immediately afterword, a scout rushed to him from a wall barrack.

"My lord! Word from the north!" he shouted as he approached.

"I can see," Mardex replied. "Let me guess, Count Risi is leading another drill over his line. He wants more space." The scout, stunned, nodded.

"It would seem so, my lord," he said. Mardex huffed at the answer, and crossed his arms.

"I am done bowing to him, who should by rights be my lesser. Send for my strategoi. Send for Prefect Zandex as well. We will need to discuss strategy."

@bloonewb

Skanoi should have known better than to ask his father a question which could be taken in any way as a scientific, magical, theological, or philosophical matter. Seeing as how this covered almost everything, it made asking his father just about anything a chore.

"So, I should watch my step. Right. Thanks, dad."

Kali took her son's hand and led him along for a few minutes. "While I'm surprised that a book would cover such a specific topic, your father is a very studied male. Even though I also studied from some of the same biology and healing texts. In fact, there was one book that- oh, now I'm doing it!" she chuckled, wondering if some of her husband's uptight studiousness was rubbing off on her.

"That said, your father has a good point buried in all of that; your body is still growing and you shouldn't push yourself too hard."

The rest of the walk to the bathhouse was uneventful. When they approached it, there was no mistaking it's grandeur. While not as large as the dracon bathhouses of the greatest cities, it was gargantuan by kobold standards. Built from brick and marble, it was supported by a combination of fluted colossal order columns and vaulted ceilings, with gigantic semi-circular windows placed at a high level to let in a maximum amount of light.

Spatially, the bathhouse was almost 200 meters wide and about 150 meters long, its vast size being necessary to accommodate Xigyll's fast-growing population. While the city had other bathhouses, they were without exception tiny little structures, sometimes only large enough for a dozen kobolds at a time. The main bathhouse could accommodate thousands at once, with standing room for over ten thousand if need be. On top of that, there were two small libraries on either side of the complex, with writing in draconic on one of them, and tomes in other languages on the other.

The massive bronze doors had been built in Hekaga and shipped in as a birthday present to the emperor. They depicted scenes from the battle of Traeton fought so long ago, when Rughoi had attempted to take over another dracon city before being forced out to the site of what became Xigyll. This migration was depicted on the inside of the doors, although few paid them any heed. The truly fantastic decorations were to be found in the mosaics on the ceilings, which depicted Rughoi and Ardasa over the main bath and the warm bath respectively. The smaller baths had allegorical images of dragons and kobolds above them, also depicted in mosaic. It might have been somewhat disconcerting to some bathers who looked up, as it gave the impression that someone was staring down at one while in the bath. That said, kobolds didn't have the same expectations as dracons, let alone humans, so this wasn't a big deal for them.

"Well, what do you think? Freshly built and already quite busy" Kali commented, taking a moment to gaze on the vast interior.

@Aristocles
He nods, and the body goes slack as he releases his hold on it, slumping to the floor, his necrotic form swirling above it. He then seeps back into it, and it reanimates, standing back up. "Aside from a slight feeling of dizziness, I'm fine." He braces himself on his scythe to steady himself. "If it were an actual possession, it would be far harder." He bows softly. "So....what gods do you follow?" He spins his scythe, fantasized by the actual feeling of metal.

@bloonewb
Zandex pounds away at his steel, chanting to himself as he shapes Mardex's newly reforged sword. He runs his finger down the white hot metal without discomfort, and frowns, setting it back in the forge to be reshaped. Too crooked. He lets the weapon heat for a while, then sees the messenger run up, and he growls softly. "What?" The messenger swallows nervously. "Mardex wants you sir..." He sighs, and sets his work aside. "Tell him I'll be there shortly." He sets the half finished weapon aside, and locks up.