Kobold arena

The sun overhead loomed menacingly with the heat of the day. Everywhere alit with its scorching rays and blinding light. The path dried and cracked, breaking at the slightest touch underfoot as four pairs of feet trudged its path.

The tallest of the group had to shield their eyes from its rays, tipping down his fedora for extra protection. Next in line pulled down the large hood over their already covered eyes, panting through their fanged maw.

All four sluggishly made their way through the path, a hog pulled cart trailing behind. They had to appeal to the Kobolds who attacked a local village, though most didn't care the reward was plentiful. It at least made the journey somewhat worthwhile.

In the distance a tall structure loomed, blocking the sun to a degree that it was easier on the eyes. The shortest of the four gaped their beak in awe, eyes alight with newfound vigor.

The walls of the fortress reached about 15 meters in height, shading the ground below as weeds and grass grew onto the worn path. The team continued a little farther down, all letting out a relieved sigh to be in the shade of the fortress’ shadow. Although the height was decent for a structure made by Kobolds, it wasn't very ominous to the taller gang.

A few Kobolds lined the walls, bows and a few cannons at hand, standing guard in the blistering heat. A few towers lined the front, back, and sides. Holes lined the walls in each one, giving the impression that more guards or cannons were stationed there hidden by the darkness of the cool interior.

Two guards had been stationed at the entrance. Blocked off by a metal grate just tall enough for a minotaur to squeeze through. The group looked at one another for a second before beckoning the boars to continue walking the path. As they approached the two guards positioned their spears in a battle-ready stance.

“What do you require of the Thicket clan?“ the taller guard shouted. No one could take her seriously since Kobolds rarely exceeded more than two and a half feet in height.

Small snickers came from the band, though the Dragonborn was the first to step forth and say anything, “I, Azek Sornin of the Bronze Dragonborn request safe passage through. My group and I seek an audience with the leader of this here... Thicket clan.“

Small murmurs came from the two and they spoke to one another. Small snippets like the Emperor? And Outsiders… could be heard from the two. After a moment the two looked up and the shorter of the two said “Follow me, Outsiders,“ before signaling inside. The grate rose to allow them to come in.

They followed the Kobold down winding steps. Questions had been flung from the group, most got only a grunt or a hum in response. Their efforts hadn‘t been fully useless, one member asked: “What is your name?”

The Kobold starred in somewhat disbelief but kept his cool in the situation. He opened and closed his maw a few times before answering “I'm not supposed to say, but you all seem innocent enough. Names Gib. Not one of the best in this here ramshackle, but get the job done.”

The group looked at one another for a moment before they shook it off and kept going down the headache of a stairwell.

At the bottom, the stairs opened up into a chamber filled with clambering Kobolds of all ages. Some looked up long enough to notice the new strangers, question why they were there, then go back to whatever they had been doing before.

The shortest gasped and smiled, eyes enlarging at the sight of all the, as they saw it, cute Kobolds. The ones back at their home were scrawny and mean. These ones, however, seemed to be well-fed and powerful.

Azek noticed and grabbed onto her arm and whispered: “Chime-me don‘t.”

She just shook him off and gave an expression that read oh trust me I won’t. With that they kept walking with Gib. More Kobolds noticed them, but still didn't pay too much attention, all too focused on whatever they were doing.