I was not a natural early riser, a trait that stubbornly persisted through all three of my incarnations. But while my previous professions, both as a salaryman and as a soldier, required me to have a sleep schedule that was tight, and in the case of the latter, highly irregular, I could rely on the wonder of civilization that was coffee to alleviate my organism's deficiencies.
Now the luxury - no, the right to caffeine was denied to me. As I groggily opened my eyes, even the watered down dirt that was frontline ersatz seemed tantalizing. I felt numb, my muscles cold and stiff; A "gift" of my newfound cold blooded nature, not yet alleviated by the inborn thermal spell after a night in power saving mode.
All but dragging myself out of the burrow, I felt the morning sun caressing my scales. Spreading my wings to maximize the surface area, I let the foremost renewable energy source work in tandem with my thermal regulation formula to speed up the process of heating up my body to operating temperatures.
I wasn't alone on the surface; Kobolds laid on stone beds with low flames burning underneath, or basked in the sun while making disgusted faces as they drank their herbal pick-me-up. Children were moving around, hauling equipment, cleaning their masters' gear to prepare for the workday, or simply being a general nuisance to adults. An everyday morning ritual of a village at peace.
Barring a few turned heads, my groan-filled ascent from the burrow did little to disturb this atmosphere of quiet preparation, not entirely dissimilar to what I previously experienced during my morning train commutes.
The corners of my mouth curled in a slight, satisfied smile; I missed this. My life was once again leisurely cruising on the tracks I laid for it, with a daily schedule that didn't start and end with "plan to survive another day". I could almost forgive experiencing this half-forgotten feeling while living in a literal hole in the ground. Almost.
The lazy, self-congratulatory expression was erased from my muzzle. My original life, in my true body - they were the basis on which I ought to build my standards. Satisfaction with anything less was giving in to complacency and Being X both.
Because I knew better than this.
I desired better than this.
I deserved better than this.
I beat my wings in preparation for takeoff. There was a lot of work to be done.
===
Circling the village of New Grotniks from on high, I began inspecting the goblins' infrastructural progress.
In the three months since they came to me asking for protection, their little encampment evolved into a respectable neolithic village, with stockades, half-underground clay houses, and even a moat. Progress was steadily being made on the irrigation channels for the fields surrounding the village; I needed to remember to commend Vaira and goblins both for a job well done, along with some incentives to encourage them to keep the pace.
Of course, it was still just a neolithic village, unremarkable in the grand scheme of things. The items I have brought with me today should hopefully change that - in time.
The market showed the goblins what they could want but didn't have; It was up to me to make them understand why they needed it.
My surveying hasn't gone unnoticed; I could see the new goblin chieftain emerging from his house to await my landing, and sentries calming down the few panicking villagers that must have mistaken me for a wyvern.
By the time I touched down, a small crowd had gathered at the center of the village, murmuring among themselves about the possible purpose of my visit. I could smell subtle hints of worry emanating from them. Understandable; my arrival was the equivalent of a CEO of a company making an unannounced visit to the local branch in the middle of a big project. Anyone would be nervous.
"Welcome, Drrrragonmelterrrr, welcome! Chief Borrrrwit welcomes Lady Degurrrrechaff in the name of New Grrrrrotniks!"
"Greetings to you as well, Chieftain. First of all, congratulations are in order; I am very impressed with the speed at which you are developing your village, and wish to reward your efforts with some tools I think your people would find useful."
"Borrrrwit happy to imprrrress! New Grrrrrotniks happy to imprrrress! All goblins happy to imprrrress!" The goblin exclaimed excitedly, only for his enthusiasm to evaporate as if it was never there. "What rrrrewarrrrd does Drrrragonmelterrrrr give? No need! No need... Lady Vairrrra prrrrotecting is rrrrewarrrrd enough forrrr goblins. Worrrrk forrrr grrreat drrrragons is rrrrewarrrrrd enough forrrrrr goblins."
I tilted my head questioningly, unsure of the cause of the chieftain's reluctance, making him attempt to visibly shrink upon himself - along with several members of the gathered crowd. The result was comical, similar to a soft shell turtle contracting its head, only far less successful. They were evidently unfamiliar with the concept of positive reinforcement.
Now that I mentioned it, neither was I. Maybe I once was - but those times long since passed, no longer even a memory, leaving behind only questions such as: When have I last heard something as simple as "good job" for doing the seemingly impossible, nevermind actually being gifted something useful, even a uniform I didn't have to pay for out of my pocket? When have I voiced any praises towards my battalion, all exceptional men and women, for risking their lives for a job they often didn't live to get paid for?
And here I stood, rewarding primitives barely smarter than grade schoolers for constructing mud huts slightly ahead of schedule. Why? Why should I give them the sense of accomplishment denied to me and mine for years?
Because I have vested interest in distributing the 'rewards' among their populace - I answered myself, stopping this idiotic downward spiral. Primitives or no, they were what I was given, and I planned to get the most out of them.
And if doing so required a few kind words and gifts, so be it. "I am sorry to have kept you waiting, chieftain; I was contemplating your words. And while I am happy to hear about the high levels of job satisfaction among your people, it can't replace proper work compensation. Which is why I'm giving you this." Saying that, I unfolded the leather wrapping the bundle I came with, showcasing the items within.
The goblin chief hunched over, curiosity getting the better of him as he inspected some of the items, before picking one. "Lizarrrrrd irrrron. But, Drrrragonmelterrrrr, it's no spearrrr orrrr axe. What is it?"
Besides, some say giving is far more enjoyable than taking. And what could be more enjoyable to give, than the light of civilization itself? "A shovel."
---
Shovels, hoes, rakes and pitchforks; the basic tools of anyone working the earth. They are cheap to make, sturdy and easy to recycle - embodying the pinnacle of civilization's progress in ways even an achievement as grand as landing on the moon couldn't match.
But unlike the aforementioned, they weren't spectacular. There was no boom, no great plume of fire rising into the sky, no room to make memorable quotes that would punctuate the magnitude of the technological leap they represented. Just a goblin who with the help of a stick with a piece of flattened metal at the end did five times the work he would be able to do without it. It was the kind of progress that needed to be personally experienced to be appreciated.
Judging by the goblins' reactions, they did appreciate it. It wasn't anything overt, just a few nods of approval as they learned to use the provided tools, and saw the results of their proper application.
"Most generrrrrous gift, grrrreat Drrrragonmelterrrr. Make worrrrk easierrrr, fasterrrrr, betterrrrr. Means morrrrre things done. Will give them to best, strrrongest goblins, make New Grrrrotniks betterrrr than old home."
I smiled in response. "There is no need to limit yourself to what you have been given. I commissioned these tools from kobold blacksmiths; I'm sure you will be able to do too - for a price."
"The shiny scales?"
"Among other things. The most limiting factor of kobold population growth is their food supply and the diseases their young suffer. Their poor stamina and lack of beasts of burden put a severe cap on fieldwork they can do in a day, and while they are knowledgeable in the field of natural medicine, their tools for maintaining personal hygiene are lacking. Your tribe stands to gain a lot by capitalizing on those deficiencies."
The village chieftain swallowed nervously, positively reeking of nerves. "Prrrroblem, Drrrrragonmelterrrrr. No trrrrade with lizarrrrrrds. No morrrrre. They have no rrrrrespect forrrrr goblin ways, and goblin have no rrrrrespect forrrrrr them."
A matter of respect. I can't say I expected that. Religious dogma, or simple hatred borne of killing loved ones, sure. All that I knew, prepared for, readying arguments and concessions. But simple respect?
It was the cornerstone of commerce, and simultaneously its most scarce resource. A natural outcome of simultaneously relying on a gentleman's agreement on what was worth what, and self-interest that sought to maximize gain and minimize loss.
The client taking advantage of the provider, and vice versa, was a phenomenon recorded as far as four thousand years in the past, written on clay tablets complaining about subpar quality of provided copper. If this was truly just a matter of lacking mutual respect, trade between the two tribes would flourish - in ways that dragged the quality standard through the mud, ruining my goal of establishing proper product benchmarks.
Since kobolds and goblins didn't trade in tools that could be snapped in half by a sickly toddler, nor bread made out of half-rotten straw, it meant it wasn't a simple matter of general animosity resulting from an exchange of insults. "And how do they show this lack of respect, Chieftain? Is it something I could perhaps discuss with the leaders of the kobold tribe?"
"Goblin claim parrrrrt of the forrrrest forrrr hunting. Farrrr away frrrrrom lizarrrrd village. Put warrrrds and totems, keep the feywalks closed, and Balorrrrr's eye open to witness goblin hunts, to please Him. Lizarrrrd sneak into goblin forrrrest, destrrrroy warrrrds and totems! Even the hidden ones, they found and defiled! Want to take goblin forrrrest forrrrr themselves! How trrrade when they only want to take?!"
"The forest is mine." I growled out, making the goblin squeak in fear. I couldn't care less about the nature of this little turf war I just heard about, or which parts were claimed by whom as hunting grounds; the forests near the villages were depopulated of prey that could sustain me anyway. But to go out of their way and dispute the claim through such childish means, instead of informing me that there even is a problem was… infuriating.
"Y-yes Master-Maj- yes, Drrrragonmelterrr." The goblin's voice was a little more than a whisper. "Please forrrrgive Borrrrwit, forrrrgive goblins forrrrr taking, forrrr stealing frrrrrom you."
I glanced at the prostrating goblin. "I'm not angry at you, or your people, Chieftain. As a member of my administration, you have all the rights to feed yourself on the grounds I claimed. Your only fault was not informing Miss Vaira of the problem; she's here not only as a project overseer and your guardian, but also my representative." Speaking of whom, where was she? Goblin's general mood wasn't exactly hard to smell; she must have noticed something.
"Don't want to trrrouble grrreat drrrragons with little goblin things. Little prrrroblems beneath them, for goblins to resolve alone."
I rolled my eyes. 'I thought I could deal with this myself. No point troubling the higher ups with something this small.' - the bane of management everywhere. If you have a problem that you can't resolve, it is your duty to inform the management of it. Either it isn't as small as you thought, and additional staff needs to be allocated to it, or you're just incompetent, and the company needs to start looking for a more diligent employee to replace the drain on their resources.
Back to the matter at hand, the kobolds who did this effectively took a piss on my efforts, not to mention assumed authority that wasn't theirs to do so. I needed to first identify, and then punish the culprits accordingly. The integrity of my image and authority depended on it.
But first, I needed to talk with my attache. "Chieftain Borwit, do you know where Miss Vaira went, and how long until she gets back?"
"Gone hunting, Drrrragonmelterrr. I don't know how long it will take herrrrrr."
===
Vaira flew leisurely, following behind the smell of singed fur. After hours of looking, she finally found a meal worth her time: an auroch bull.
She breathed fire, cutting off the panicking animal from taking a turn from the path towards the clearing she was guiding it to. Try to hide in a tree thicket? Fire. Try to move from the path she set for it? Fire. Watching the animal move exactly how she wanted to, predicting where it would go was… fun. Maybe that's why Tanya liked her 'drills' so much?
The noises of pain weren't fun though. She wasn't Darwion; she wanted to end it as soon as possible and start eating - almost as much as the giant cow wanted to stop burning. But the animal was being stubborn, which meant neither of them got what they wanted. Especially when, instead of finally running into a clearing where Vaira could comfortably land, it decided to fall into some hole.
She hovered in place, looking for the best place to land. A big oak caught her eye; its branches prevented pines from growing around it, so there weren't that many tree trunks that would prevent her from spreading her wings. Vaira descended, breaking a few oak branches as she did so, and approached the hole her food fell into.
An opening in exposed rock, wide enough to fit her. At the bottom laid her meal, its fur still burning, lighting up the cave it fell into. Vaira jumped in, claiming her prize by clamping her front paws on it, preparing to take it back to her lair… only to stop when she realized she had no way to get out.
The cave entrance was too small for her to spread her wings and fly out, and the rockface below it too steep to climb it. She tried it anyway, digging her magically strengthened claws into stone; only for the soft rock to crumble when she tried putting more of her weight into it.
It looked like she had no choice but to dig herself out… something that would take hours! She reasoned she deserved a little treat before that, digging her jaws into the underbelly of her catch and ripping it open in search for its liver.
As she ate, she felt the moving air cooling the fresh blood on her muzzle. Air that wasn't coming from the hole above her. There was another exit!
She finished her meal, and began to follow the air current. The gentle wind blew from behind a curtain of stalagmites, so thick and dense they could easily be mistaken for a solid rock wall. With a few swipes of Vaira's claws, they were gone, leading her into more of the cave. She went in, dragging the corpse of her catch behind her, following the smell of pine sap and moss. The smell of fresh air.
Only it wasn't fresh air. At the end of the tunnel Vaira saw a small chamber; and in it, squatting over a water bowl and mumbling something to itself was… something.
She had no idea what it was. It smelled like pine sap and moss, and its skin was like tree bark. Or was it just tree bark. It looked like a goblin or a kobold: two hands, two legs and a head on a stubby neck. It spoke in a language Vaira never heard, alternating between chanting and whispering to the bowl, and… cursing, she assumed, with the way the creature clutched its head while hissing out harsh words. A bit like Tanya when she let slip her 'Japanese'.
She didn't interrupt the thing; she was curious what it was doing, and how long it will take it to notice her sitting near the doorway to its hidey-hole.
The reward for her patience was the creature leaning closer to its water bowl before hissing a chant in the kobold language of Kodur. In its hands a white web was being put over a loop made of straw, bird feathers dangling on it. "A dream for the coming night. A deed for the waking world. You will find it hidden in the thornbushes, a glimpse in the moonlight. A totem to the tyrant god. Drag it out and smite it down. Make Byrnak proud. Make my leylines accept me again. Make my head stop hurting!"
The thing was messing with the kobolds; with Tanya's 'sentient assets', which was probably the closest she had to a hoard. And it was a fairy; the treebark for skin and the strange magic she couldn't detect were too much for it to not be.
In short, it was something Vaira's overlord wouldn't like to live in her territory. And neither would she. Living close to one fey creature was already enough.
Or maybe it was here with Tanya's permission, testing the kobolds for her. She'd better ask; she didn't want to score another failure involving the fey. "Excuse me, creature. Are you here with Lady Tanya Degurecha-" before she could finish, the thing turned around, screeching and pointing its finger at her. On its command, a swarm of bats she could swear previously weren't there descended on Vaira, attacking her face. The one place you shouldn't attack the dragon in.
Vaira let out a stream of white hot flames, disintegrating the bat swarm, before turning towards the fey and charging at it, while still breathing fire. The thing, despite looking like it was made of wood, must have been fireproof, because what she tackled wasn't a pile of charcoal, but a still living, screeching thing, clawing at her scales with its wooden nails and hissing out words that made the air vibrate and Vaira's head spin.
She smashed the creature on the cave wall, once, twice, thrice. Mid her fourth swing, the thing managed to speak to Vaira in the dragons' tongue. "No power… too weak. I yield! I yield!"
She smashed it the fourth time, making the creature go limp.
And then a fifth just to be safe.
Maybe it will be better not to smash it again. She could bring it to Tanya. Or Obok. The kobold shaman made a pretty nice thing out of Red Eye, maybe he will be able to make something else out of her catch, that she could add to her hoard.
Either way, she had to dig herself out first.