== 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."
