Chapter Two-Hundred Fifty-Six
The Redcap
The lanky fey takes in the details of the central kobold chamber, not especially concerned about the invaders currently in it. The Pantry has been breached, but the kobolds are still safe. He can see the loyal ones incapacitated in several ways, but they’re in no danger. If they’re lucky, the Redcap will be allowed to make one of them a hat, though come to think of it, he has plenty of material in the invaders.
A dwarf, an elf, some strange fluffy biped, apparently an escaped kobold, and a rat. Not exactly the most intimidating group, even if he can tell the rat is a Voice. What kind of pathetic dungeon has an ordinary rat as their Voice?
They all wear a strange make of armor, and though the Redcap can feel metal inside it, there’s not enough to get a grip on. He probably could, if he really tried, but it’d be like trying to grab a fistful of water. On the opposite end of the spectrum, the dwarf’s shield sings to him of strength and durability. He lets his affinity caress it, and is surprised to discover how staunchly it ignores him.
He doesn’t know what kind of magic could do that, and he even tests it carefully as he stares at the invaders. He could claim it, but he would cost the Great Maw too much for it to be worthwhile, especially with the interesting swords at the hips of the kobold and fluffy thing.
The scimitars are oddly thick, with deep serrations on the back. What kind of swords are those? They are interesting, different from the other blades the Redcap has forged himself. He wills the swords to himself, and frowns as they fail to react at all.
He can plainly see they’re metal, but his affinity finds no purchase in them? “What interesting swords. I’ll have to take a good look at them later.”
“I don’t suppose you’d let the kobolds go?” asks the rat, and the Redcap considers just ignoring it. However, the Great Maw is spending more mana than it’s recovering, so a windfall would be nice.
“No,” he answers simply, a hand flicking as he releases a long sharp needle to sail through the air towards the enemy scion. That one was inspired by an old elf he once saw. He doesn’t know why hers were so dull, or covered in thread, but he feels he’s improved on the design significantly.
The rat doesn’t even blink as the needle drifts to the side, missing both it and the kobold it's perched on, eventually embedding itself in the wall some distance behind them. The Redcap frowns as the rat smirks. He guided the needle perfectly straight, yet it drifted? If he had hurled a stone, he might believe he was mistaken, but he could feel the trajectory of the needle. It flew straight, it should have impaled the smiling rodent lengthwise.
He frowns as he is forced to shift his estimation of the invaders. They’re trickier than they appear. “Return to your burrows, kobolds,” he orders, his mind going over his armory of blades. Which to summon first?
“An’ ‘ere I ‘eard scions were scary!”
Blue eyes in the blackness under a grisly hat narrow for a moment, before the Redcap recognizes an unexpected affinity. The dwarf clearly wants the Redcap’s attention, and even if that would be playing into the annoyance’s hand, he doesn’t have much other option. He has some resistance to mental attacks, thanks to the Harbinger, but he can’t let this dwarf build up an offense with that variety of magic.
“I will carve a masterpiece of pain into you, dwarf.” He doesn’t usually like abstract concept art, but for this opponent, he’s willing to make an exception. He summons a bladed chain, all the better to hinder and dice the armored beardy thing, and swings it in a few loops before bringing it down on his foe.
“Flay.”
The dwarf calmly steps back as a curtain of magma intercepts the chain. It digs deep into the sudden intrusion, and the Redcap can even feel it grab and pull at his weapon! He can feel the metal melt beyond his control as it sinks into the wing of the magma dragon, and he’s soon forced to relinquish the weapon so he won't be sucked in, too.
Even worse, a glowing orange arrow seems to simply sprout from his shoulder, pain echoing through his arm as a cry of “Trick Shot!” echoes around the chamber. He frowns at the arrow before pulling it free and snapping it. These invaders are much more difficult than he first thought. In his defense, he didn’t first think they’d have a dragon with them, nor that it would be the mysterious creator of the kobold statuette.
Hmm. The kobolds. He could win this battle if he drew deep on the Great Maw’s mana, but that may end up costing it the war. Though, if he loses, the Great Maw may lose, too.
“Great Maw, I need mana.” The dungeon is offended for a moment, before grudging understanding washes through it. A wide, jagged smile splits the darkness below the Redcap’s blue eyes as he nods.
“Of course, Great Maw. I’ll leave a breeding population. I’ll even make sure to return this wayward one to you, either to carry on her line, or for you to savor after we win.”
He feels for the nearby kobolds, for their chains. Most of them are down the tunnels and beyond his reach, but there are some with their hovels close enough for him to find them. He’d like to take his time, give each kobold his individual attention, but the invaders are already moving to press their attack.
They know precisely how precious the kobolds are. They’re here to steal them away, after all.
