== VORTEX QUEST 1-4 ==
== PREHISTORIC ENCOUNTER ==
Illuminated by the slickly green of an ectoplasm waterfall and the spark of the aurora on the high ceiling, a group of five Kobolds wandered along the canyon.
Various types of bipedal dinosaurs, their skin red, gray or blue, their bodies athletic to muscular, their faces reptilian, swiping tails, bone ridges and other features.
About human-sized, the Kobolds looked like sexy godzillas, designed by some gay, muscle-worshipping dinosaur-lover.
As they walked closer, passing the demigods hideout, their rag-loincloths, spiked bats and simple iron armor pieces became visible, as did a few rune tattoos on biceps or chests.
Reading the expression of dinosaur faces wasn't Chay's forte, but he could gather they were mildly tense.
They were subordinate to the bigger creature in their midst -- a Drake.
Much like a Kobold but significantly beefier, comfortably over six foot, with smooth-shiny scales in deep purple, the Drake wore strips of leather and chain with clan-leadership insignia danging off them and off the ring piercing his snout's side.
The Drake had four arms growing from his ripped torso, a spike ridge of lighter purple running from head to tail like a long mohawk.
The lizardmen-leader swung a staff topped with the severed head of a gray Kobold, while the five carried bags.
"They're coming back from looting," Chay surmised. "Raiding party of a larger clan, avoided battle but weary of being followed."
"Do we say hi and ask politely for help?" Marcus wondered.
Chay waved him off. "They're about to run into an ambush. I know you have zero patience but, seriously, just finger your ass or something."
"Very funny," Marcus said and flicked Chay's nipple.
Chay tried not to flinch but the erotic surge from the simple flick was overwhelming. That it had been caused by a man was all the more embarrassing. He fought the urge to shudder and moan.
Instead he flicked back, watching the Filipino swim team captain twitch and huff a pathetic bitch-moan before pressing his lips shut.
The group around the Drake had stopped. Simple spears were tossed from higher layers of the multi-level canyon. The threatened raised their crude shields in response, black iron holding wooden planks together.
Around two dozen Kobolds, blue, green and beige--skinned, emerged with battle cries from their hiding spots and rushed the group of six.
The Drake pulled out an arcane crossbow, powered by a roughly round, red garnet in the center. It took a second to load each bolt with ominous energy, turning it into a phaser projectiles that exploded where it hit.
The attackers stayed down, advancing one at a time while other threw distraction spears in a practiced maneuver.
Along with them came a crazy big lizard thing, looking like a fat, bipedal crocodile. It was in chains and led by five attackers who could barely wrangle it on course. Each time the nine foot creature swung its weight, a chain-holder was tossed around. The defending Drake was torn between focus-firing the Croc or keeping the enemies from closing in.
The other defenders readied themselves, clubs and spears drawn. They were at a numerical disadvantage and would lose their loot to the marauders -- if nobody stepped in.
Chay smirked. "Let's introduce ourselves. Look scary but don't do too much damage."
The four men went down in a thick, rolling cloud of pure black. Xane added slowly forking lightning into the mix and a sound-illusion of an ominous bass-note.
The gods emerged just behind the group of defenders. The battle froze as the attacking warriors stopped to assess and fell back behind jagged cover.
The Drake whipped his chain-hung body around with an expressionless face -- the panic only readable to Chay's umbra-senses. His mighty muscles were tense, ready to charge if necessary, equally ready to run away and leave his troop to die. His phaser-crossbow charged.
"Greetings, do you need assistance?" Chay asked, in the tricky, inhuman sounds of the local Boldian dialect. "I'll get to the point. If we fight for you, can we get guidance and passage through the crawlway?"
The immense Kobold leader looked down on them calmly, even as the attackers hesitantly encroached again. He lowered his weapon just a bit.
"Slaves?" The Drake's voice was deep and rough, although part of that was the nature of Boldian. "What can slaves do to help? Who are you?"
Chay flexed his arms and let mushroom clouds of smoke rise from his biceps. "What if these slaves are *gods*? Can you get us passage?"
The big guy laughed, which sounded surprisingly human. "Fine. If you win this for me, I'll get you anywhere."
"Gotcha," Chay said. "Now comes the easy part. Boys? Attack."
Goro leapt right at the big, chained up monster. His fists pummeled the Croc until every Kobold holding a chain had been forced to let go. The creature stumbled backward, snapping at the berserker, sending its own shattered teeth flying.
"Kill the Urrk," shouted the marauder leader from up higher.
Urrk meant something like clan head. The Drake, probably. Chay shoved Xane into the path of an oncoming spear-barrage and the thaum-mage exploded a bold of blue energy that whipped the sticks off course.
A golden ring raced along the line of attackers, slicing into throats. Scream by cut-off scream, attackers fell. Marcus himself zoomed like a blur between the levels of the canyon to keep the marauders busy, his maneuvers as much martial arts as dance.
Chay stayed back and shrouded the defenders in a ring of mist while Xane shot frost bolts wherever Chay pointed him. The thaum-mage's butterfly flapped excitedly in Xane's hair.
Individual spears were no problem so long as Chay saw the windup and simply sent a spasm into the attacker's arm. They were unbeatable.
The Urrk put both left hands on his chin, the phaser-crossbow tugged into his belt. "A slave taking on a Croc?"
"He can handle it."
Goro was evading the monster's claw swipes with constant back and forth hops, driving the beast off. It was now unchained, going on all fours to retreat.
Goro roared. Everyone seemed to freeze and cower for a fraction of a second. The Croc turned and ran, trampling one of its handlers.
"You really are... something more than slaves," the Urrk said. He pointed at the lightning-bolt shooting Xane. "You don't run out? You have powers like a demon?"
Xane flexed his biceps. A little cartoon skull appeared on each and burst apart. "Lifelong avatar of godly power, now with literal godly power, at your service, buddy."
"Eeec Ghhrs'Ssaa," the Drake said, a Boldian compliment for a distinguished warrior.
Chay clapped his hands. "Hardly a fight at this point, huh? Guys, come back here."
The Croc's retreat had demoralized the attackers as much as the loss of numbers. Ten of them had been sliced open by Marcus or otherwise injured. Goro stomped on the head of a downed Kobold who had reached for his spear, cracking the skull. The rest ran.
"Collect their shit," the Urrk commanded his underlings. He turned to Chay. He introduced himself as Ccg'sswaa, meaning Neck-Breaker, leader of the Blood-Feasters.
"My home is close-by," Neck-Breaker continued. "I'll get you a guide there."
The umbralist nodded.
===***===
Tucked into a basin below an overhang, was the Blood-eater clan's camp, the path from shrubland into the village guarded by nests atop wooden scaffolding where Kobolds sounded horns as the Drake lead them by.
Tarps of beige Wyvern-leather spanned across black iron spikes and the bones of creatures bigger than anything earth offered.
Color came from paper lanterns on rusty chains and the grotesque masks hung above most huts' entrance flap.
A bone-delineated pit held a Sleuthken herd -- creatures like a mix of boars, hounds and porcupines, too big for comfort -- while chicken-sized fang-frogs freely hopped around the main plaza.
The centerpiece was a high totem, praising King Zheggyr, surround by cairns or colored rocks.
Around 200 Kobolds went about their day, the smell of wet clay, heated pottery hung in the air, the stench of rot wafting from a bubbling cauldron.
The anthropomorphic dinos in loincloths had a wide range of skin colors, though brown and beige featured dominantly. Some were working out, some were sparring or making tools, others lounged under the tarps. A few made music on drums.
Xane hummed. "Where are all the Kobold chicks?"
Marcus chuckled. "Looking to score lizard pussy?"
"You know it," Xane said with a wink and sent a tiny pink heart at Marcus. "If I'm gonna be a god I'll be the god of lovin'."
Chay gestured him to keep it down with the magic. "Low profile. I'm not sure I trust the Urrk but we'll go along with it. We'll ask how they make babies another time."
Marcus huffed. "Oh so we're ignoring that this is a village of gym bunnies?"
"What do you want?" Xane asked. "Gonna see if they let you ride some dino-dick?"
Chay made a mouth zipping gesture and they broke eye contact.
Goro put his hand on Xane's shoulder and whispered. "I'll be right with you if we find a lizard chick."
"Who says I'm sharing, man?" Xane asked with a grin.
Their argument was interrupted as a Kobold with a flute of some kind made noise and shouted, "The Urrk has returned."
The Drake spread his four muscled arms and his companions carried their spoils to the totem pole where they got distributed with minor scuffles.
As they advanced through the clan camp, the four avatars saw other 'slaves'. Two young men knelt naked in a five foot wide cage of bones.
"Where did you get those?" Chay asked.
"From the Reaper," Neck-Breaker answered like it was a stupid question and led them toward his home which was adorned with Kobold skulls on iron spikes. Leather banners carried blessings and threats in Boldian scratch-glyphs.
The smell of roasted meat wafted toward Chay. Where a small stream drizzled from the overhang above, a Kobold chef was preparing a Sleuthken carcass.
Neck-Breaker slipped out of his upper-body straps, revealing the suggestion of a six-pack on his buff, purple-skinned body. "I'll ask you to wait with the other slaves. Letting you into my chamber would cause a lot of confusion."
