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Kobold and human regarded each other across the table. It was made of a thick glass, positioned in the middle of the low-ceilinged, smoothly-polished cavern. The atmosphere was cautious and tense; this deep inside the dragon's lair, the air was thick and warm- quite unlike the bone-chilling cold of the desert night outside. The table they sat at had been wrought in dragonfire, and was coarse enough to cut unprotected skin. It was something not lost upon the human present.

The kobold, Ikaris, pushed the small box halfway across the table and frowned. "This artifact is from Shakarhan's personal treasure hoard. He values it immensely; it thus behoves you to offer a payment consummate with its proper value."

Ikaris was the dragon Shakarhan's major-domo, and a powerful sorcerer in his own right. The kobold had his claws in almost as many places as his master; despite his diminutive, frail stature his presence was imposing. One of the grey-scaled kobold's eyes was glassy and blind, scarred by a cut that had not healed well; it made most of his expressions look a little unnerving.

Akarth Saron straightened his collar. He was dressed in a thick silken robe, despite the heat. He'd dressed expecting to be cold; the underground was supposed to be cold, he'd heard tales of miners and adventurers probing deep into the Earth in search of treasures, and it was *always* cold. But when the setting desert sun had given way to the cool relief of the night, he'd come down here, and it was damn near as hot as the desert evening had been. It was distracting... he wondered if it was deliberate, he'd heard tales of the cunning tricks of kobolds and dragons both, even though this group was supposed to be approachable. He'd heard great things, and dire warnings, about the sorcerer Ikaris... almost as bad as the dragon himself, it was said.

"I'm sure. But, he's willing to part with it... so there must be something he wants, it seems. I have brought plenty of objects he would, I think, find interesting... I have many connections and contacts, too, and if I do not have what he seeks, I could doubtless acquire it."

He leaned back, trying to appear calm. "I won't insult him or you by offering mere trinkets like gloves of agility, or rings of freedom, of hats of towering intellect..." he said, calmly reeling off lists of magical artifice that would make most Archmages' jaws drop. "No, I think I can offer something more unusual and exciting. How about..." he smiled. "... an Enhanced Rod of Wonder, crafted a thousand years ago by the wild mage Aerton the Great? It's widely suspected to be the prototype of his unique Deck of Wondrous Powers, and considerably less lethal... has quite a few charges left, as well. It may be 'mere' human magic, but... of interest, perhaps?"

He tried looking Ikaris in the eyes, but found it hard to maintain; the kobold's one-sided glare was piercing. He knew the expression well - the haughty arrogance of the magically gifted; a look of knowing that, despite any semblance of physical frailty, they could destroy all who crossed them on their slightest whim. The kind of person he envied, a great deal. What must it be like to feel raw magic boiling through one's blood, connected to the very forces of the universe on a fundamental level.

He'd dealt with such people before often enough before. It was unnerving to meet one who was merely a servant, however.

Ikaris blinked his one good eye slowly, before leaning down and muttering something quietly to himself. "No," he began with a low growl, shaking his head. "You do not understand. We do not deal in trinkets and toys, Akarth Saron. We deal in magic power!"

The kobold carefully picked up his wine goblet, evidently irritated, making a show of testing the bouquet and taking a long, slow sip from it before wiping his muzzle with the hem of his robe.

There was a long pause before he barked a laugh and addressed Akarth again. "I apologize. Perhaps I should have been more... explicit... with what we wanted from you. What we need is... ah." Ikaris said, holding his tongue again as another kobold meekly entered the conference chamber. The newcomer darted in quietly and left a platter of hummus, olives and pitta bread on the middle of the table. Ikaris met the kobold's eyes and they exchanged a nod, before the servant darted away, vanishing the way he came.

Ikaris cleared his throat and continued. "What we *need* is useful, practical magic. The ability to shape stone in particular, or create elemental portals."

Akarth smiled warmly; he'd expected as much, but it was good to let the provincials know they weren't dealing with a hedge-wizard. Earl Akarth Saron of Zalduc was a competent, experienced collector of magical "objets d'art", and had been for nearly twenty years, since he came of age.

"Very well, my good kobold... I certainly think I could help there... have you heard of such a thing as a Lyre of Building, perhaps - I have one sized for a Halfling bard, it would suit a kobold, I think." He gazed at the small creature opposite him, nearly a foot shorter than the Halflings he was used to; and, at the sharp claws on Ikaris' fingertips. "Ah, perhaps slightly larger than you'd be used to, and I could throw in some gloves on top, as well. Or maybe you'd prefer a Rod of Mineral Detection - I have a uniquely crafted one made by a Dwarven runesmith, attuned to atypical ores or iron I'd never even heard of before? Perhaps a Staff of Earthworks, tuned to create tunnels and caverns in solid rock in a matter of minutes?"

He casually took some of the refreshments offered, taking care to eat only those items that his host had already nibbled on. It would be unusual to poison a merchant mid-negotiation, but he'd heard of such things being done before - slow-acting poisons, with an offer of antidote only if extremely favourable trades were agreed to...

---

The kobold's muzzle twitched almost imperceptibly as Akarth listed his goods; his good eye wandered back to meet the wizard's eyes. Ikaris' eye seemed to hesitantly wander between focusing on each as he thought. The kobold opened his muzzle but held his tongue for a moment longer, as if suddenly remembering a point deserving further consideration.

"Well... Akarth Saron... the Lyre and the Staff would be an acceptable trade. Provided you supply an additional-" another pause as the kobold licked a streak of wine from his scaly lips "-twenty-eight thousand gold. We have no need for a Rod of Mineral Detection, however. These caverns have been thoroughly surveyed, and are uniformly, disappointingly devoid of any mineral worth the time it would take to dig it out."

Ikaris reached his hand forward and took a slice of pitta bread off the table, running it through his hummus in a violent dipping motion that resembled an osprey diving for a fish. The kobold took the appetizer into his muzzle in a single messy bite, chewing laboriously while he waited for Akarth's response.

Akarth scowled for a moment before he caught himself. "The Lyre *and* the Staff, *and* a fortune in gold? An exorbitant price, surely... still, I am hoping we can do business again in the future... therefore..." he paused as if considering, but he was half the gold, and the Staff. The Lyre, as well, surely that is too much..."

He actually thought that it was probably a steal at the offered price, assuming the rumours about the item he was after were true. It was said- or, rather, had been said to him- that the artifact ensured the wearer's protection by powerful allies, and for those of draconic descent, it was alleged to empower any magical abilities they possessed, perhaps to a considerable degree.

It would certainly be useful, and Akarth knew several powerful sorcerers who'd literally kill to get their hands on something like this... the trick was acquiring it, and setting a price that made it worth paying him rather than slaying him.

He suspected that its powers would prove disappointing compared to the rumours; the kobold had not made it easy to acquire thus far, but if it were an item of great power, surely he'd be dealing directly with the dragon, Shakarhan, rather than the hired help.

Regardless, it would be useful to see the kobold's reaction to the counteroffer... the first round of bargaining was the most crucial, as each side staked their territory...

Unfortunately, the kobold's reaction was not quite what he had hoped for. Ikaris coughed, nearly choking on the appetizer stuffed in his muzzle. Swallowing suddenly, the reptilian kobold hoisted his staff to the side of his chair and used it to balance as he spluttered, coughing. Staring down at the human from the end of the table, Ikaris boiled with startled indignation. "Surely you jest! This is human *humor*, yes?" the kobold began, hissing slowly as if in disbelief. "Do you have any idea of what the Amulet of Aegyrious is worth? Hmm? Do you!?"

The kobold placed his claw on the box he'd placed on the table earlier and pulled it open, revealing a plush chamber lined with black silk. Then, Ikaris pushed it across the rough-surfaced table.

The amulet resting inside the box was shaped like a dragon's tooth, save for its gleaming, unnaturally-smooth platinum construction. Whether by a trick of the light or the artifact's power, shadows seemed to slowly expand and contract around it, as if pulled on by an invisible tidal force.

Ikaris took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. "Perhaps you are under a misapprehension, huma... Akarth Saron", he corrected himself before he could cause any possible offence. "My apologies; you are perhaps unaware that we do not believe in this back-and-forth negotiation that you humans believe so important. We have stated the price my master has set for it. A counter-offer is..." He sought for words. "...not what we would expect at this late stage. Not without good reason."

Ikaris sighed, continuing. "This amulet contains ancient dragon magic. It was created over twelve thousand years ago, when the Wyrm kings were undisputed masters of the world", Ikaris said, and a cold edge entered his voice as he pushed the box forward, shaking his head. "Do you have any idea of how privileged you are to even be considered as a buyer? Go on. Measure it's magic however you wish; you may even try it on if you doubt its powers, you should notice your magical powers being enhanced immediately, and then you may judge for yourself. What you may *not* do is so casually disregard our asking price. We do not wish to negotiate on this point."

Akarth was taken aback; this was not usually how negotiations went. Ikaris hadn't shown nearly this level of indignation over a little haggling before; was the kobold telling the truth or pulling a bluff? Of course, they probably knew his reputation, hoped to cow him into accepting an unfair deal... though was it so unfair? His gut feel was that the price was about fair, if not a little too low, almost too good to be true. Had he insulted them by not seriously thinking they meant it when they said the low price was 'a gesture of willingness to continue a profitable relationship in the future'?

It certainly looked quite powerful, but he was aware that many mages had developed all kinds of tricks to make the mundane appear unnerving and powerful and mysterious... it was a hazard of the trade. He could usually tell such things, however.

He tried to keep his composure, forcing a slight, knowing smile. "Ah, but you *are* selling it, Mr. Ikaris... that suggests that you *do* need what I'm selling, if you're willing to negotiate over such a... powerful thing."

Akarth carefully picked the item out of its display case. Magic tickled the tips of his fingers. "Ah... yes, there's certainly magic to it..." he murmured, taking his magical eyeglasses from a breast pocket and peering closely at the amulet. Magic, yes; enhancing power, latching onto dragonblood in the wearer, some minor protections... very useful, it appeared. Very complex; he could tell the general outlines, but no specifics of its function beyond imbuing powers on the wearer. Artefacts like the amulet had their powers woven by history-making events in the distant past or by extremely powerful beings. Deciphering their true nature was no easy task.

"So you wouldn't mind if I tried it out?" Akarth asked, out of politeness; Ikaris had already said as much, whether the kobold was regretting the outburst now or not. The amulet's protections could come in handy if things got ugly.

He slipped it over his head, and was surprised at how heavy it felt around his neck; it seemed to pulse, as if with its own heartbeat, and the metal chilled his skin but almost seemed to burn at the touch. An unusual juxtaposition, and one that suggested a great deal of magic was held within it.

"Hmm... I confess perhaps it is more valuable than I first assumed..." he admitted. "I shall generously expand my offer to the Staff and all the gold; the Lyre is a cheap and commonplace trinket by comparison. But I only go so far because I hope that we can remain associated in the future... this is *my* tradition, and it is as valid as yours", he finished, sternly.

The kobold's eyeridges raised as Akarth spoke; Akarth could hear the kobold's demeanour change. His low, growling voice sounded vaguely, grudgingly impressed... and, he thought, a little surprised at something. "Very well... excellent. I am... happy we could come to a reasonable agreement, Akarth Saron," Ikaris said, leaning back in his chair and setting his staff aside, the tension gone from the sorcerer's shoulders.

"Hm. Well..." the kobold continued after a long pause while he impaled an olive on the tip of his foreclaw. "Our business is concluded, and I can guarantee we will retain our... association... in the future, wizard. You've done well to acquire so many useful and unique artifacts, even if you collect them as part of your... business." Ikaris said, with perhaps the vaguest hint of condescension.

The kobold seemed physically pained by the effort of complimenting the human; every so often, his muzzle would twitch in a way Akarth couldn't identify. "Anyway. You may rest the night here with Shakarhan's blessing, if you wish. Otherwise, I can offer you an escort to the mountain pass, but no further. Either way, our meal will be here in a few minutes. I recommend the lamb; it's quite tender..."

Akarth's victorious glow rapidly faded. It seemed too easy... and something in Ikaris' demeanour had changed. The kobold was up to something, he felt sure.

The offer to lodge the night, for instance. The only alternative, an escort as far as the mountain pass? In the middle of the night? The desert was a dangerous place, antlions and ankhegs roamed after sundown, and bandits might not be above trying their luck. No, wandering back alone to the nomads' camp, where his camel was being cared for, would be as near suicide as made no difference.

So, they wanted to keep him here. Why? The answer was obvious: they'd deduced he probably had a way of accessing his money and items quickly... and they planned to ensure he didn't leave the place alive.

Akarth had with him an extradimensional portal, which allowed him full access to his treasury whenever he wished. He berated himself for not suggesting he'd need to travel far away to fetch the items he'd traded; and berated himself further for not having an item that would allow a person to safely enter his extradimensional vault and camp there - but it was impossible. There was no other way in or out, and he would soon suffocate in the small space - no good at all.

He chose not to correct the kobold on one matter, though; Ikaris had insisted on referring to him as a wizard - but he was no spell-weaver, despite being trained in the identification of magical properties. He had no magic in his blood; a fact that grated on him, but collecting magical artefacts at least let him touch that arcane world that fascinated him so.

Ordinarily he would have been quietly pleased to be thought a wizard himself; right now his only thought was that it might help his chances of surviving the night, if the kobold thought him powerful and capable of defending himself.

Akarth forced a smile, paling slightly. "Yes... yes, I do believe I shall accept your offer of hospitality, and you have my thanks..." he said, wondering if the meal, too, was a trap. The possibility of poison was a worrying one... but would he insult his host again by refusing? He couldn't risk losing a deal with a powerful dragon over a trifle like that... could he, perhaps, drink a magical antitoxin beforehand, and ensure his safety either way..?

He couldn't risk insulting a dragon's majordomo with overt mistrust, and he couldn't risk simply eating a potentially poisoned meal on trust. Drat; antitoxin it would have to be. He fingered the small vial in his pocket nervously, waiting for a moment when Ikaris was distracted.

Thankfully, if the kobold noticed any of the collector's fear, he wasn't showing it. If anything, the reptile seemed unusually distracted, impatient, on edge; nearly as uncomfortable as Akarth. The kobold sorcerer made small talk that sounded forced, lubricated by heavy gulps of wine from his goblet.

A team of kobolds from the kitchens entered, carrying two overburdened plates and an assortment of cutlery. There, again, was that quick flicker of eye contact, that subtle, knowing nod. Something being arranged, perhaps? A plan being put into motion?

The human couldn't help but notice that the curved silver utensils he had been given were clearly not designed for anything with five fingers. Ikaris' utensils were cruder things made of a base metal, but they seemed eminently functional given the speed with which the kobold used them. The reptile's set, Akarth also noticed, contained no knife.

The plates set before them contained an assortment of stuffed croquettes, roast lamb covered in mint jelly and saffron rice all sitting on a bed of lettuce, tomato and spiced yogurt. Akarth caught Ikaris licking his muzzle before picking up a piece of lamb in his claws, cracking the bone in the roast and as he began his satisfied, crunchy chewing.

Akarth was feeling rather hungry himself, despite the kobold's messy eating. The dish before him was heady with richly-spiced lamb meat and rice; a shared platter of cheeses and fruits sat between him and Ikaris as well.

His paranoid mind mulled possibilities. The meal was unusually rich and luxuriant... and spiced well enough that the subtle taste of a poison would be masked. Far too big a risk to just eat, even potent-tasting poisons would be indistinct in this barrage of flavours.

He waited for a moment when the kobold was looking away, carefully addressing one of the ubiquitous servants nearby, before upending the vial of antitoxin on his own plate with a motion that - he hoped - was disguised by his reaching for the larger, human-sized wine goblet beside it. There... that should be sufficient to ensure his safety.

The more he thought about it, though, the less sure he was about the poison. If they thought him a powerful spellcaster, they probably thought he'd be protected against such a simple trick... and indeed, though he was no spellcaster, he thought he was, with his assorted antitoxins and potions. Surely the trap wouldn't be so crude... no need to take the risk, though.

"So... indulge my curiosity..." Ikaris began, pausing as he scraped together a bite of rice, spiced yogurt and tomato on his plate. "How did you get into the business of magical artifice?"

Akarth took a mouthful of the lamb before speaking; the antitoxin made it a little bitter, but it was good, he had to admit.

"Ah, that's a long story... the short version is, I inherited several curious trinkets from my father when he passed away, and I got interested in their history. That meant I had to delve quite deeply into the magical theory and national history behind them... which led on to ancient history, elven history, pre-elven history, planar theory... soon, I was taking Academy courses on arcane theory and philosophy, and... er..."

He remembered that they thought him a wizard, and he wanted to keep that impression without overtly lying about it. "...er, well, I learned all about magic in general. There were so many little treasures just lying around in market stalls, or carried by adventurers and mercenaries, or locked away in museum vaults, I just had to try and find as many as possible, keep them safe. I trade in a few as a sideline, and to make sure I have some income... but my collection's what I'm interested in."

He decided not to mention some of the less-than-savoury characters he'd met along the way to acquiring his huge private collection... Thieves' Guild members, mercenaries, assassins... some he'd bought, some he'd bribed, some he'd even killed, or sent to their deaths for his own ends... but such was life. The world was a brutal place, and nice guys finished last. He preferred finishing on top.

The toothsome smile that formed on his solo audience following his reply seemed quite in accord with this philosophy. "Well... you have done rather well for yourself, Akarth Saron. Few in the East have your knowledge of magic and artificing, your wealth, your connections; your collection rivals that of the master himself. You have found a useful place for yourself with Shakarhan's plans because of this..." the kobold said, smiling strangely as his voice trailed off. He raised his wine goblet. "A toast. To both our good fortunes, of course. In trade, we can all prosper, and prosper we shall!"

Akarth joined the toast with a "Hear, hear!"; hoping his forced enthusiasm would pass muster. But the toast seemed to be a signal of some sort; before Akarth had lowered his goblet, Ikaris was lazing back in his chair and packing a long-handled pipe, as other kobolds swarmed in and carried away the mostly-empty dishes; the sorcerer watched them clear the table with an odd smile.

It wasn't until that moment that Akarth noticed that only tan and yellow scaled kobolds had been serving the food, unlike Ikaris' pale grey hide. In fact, Ikaris' scales seemed quite out of place in the desert; too bright against the sandy-colored stone surrounding them; he didn't recall any other kobolds he'd seen in this lair having that odd colouration.

His reverie was interrupted as a kobold tugged gently on the hem of his robe, offering him a plate with a pipe, spoon and a bowl of honey-like tobacco paste. The reptile averted his eyes as he waited for the human's response, tail curled between his legs.

Akarth was sorely tempted. He'd picked up the habit some years back as part of a luxury spa routine he'd been persuaded to try, and had grown to love. Nothing beat relaxing over a good smoke, reclining in a pool of hot water on a sunny day; that, though, was not a luxury even he could enjoy often, so more often he just smoked a pipe; not often, but under stress he tended to feel the need to partake.

He still thought it might be prudent to refuse, but something about the servant's pose was so awkward and scared that the refusal died on his lips. He was painfully aware of Ikaris' eye glaring at him, as if daring him to refuse.

"Er... ah, certainly, I would enjoy a smoke to round off this most excellent meal..." he began saying, cursing himself internally. An act, it was an act... the smoke could be poison, for all he knew! Antitoxin... hopefully it would work against inhaled poisons, too?

He took the accoutrements from the servant and nodded, dismissing the meek creature, and half turned back to Ikaris. Paranoia or no, his curiosity had been roused by his realisation of the sorcerer's differences to others of his clan.

"If you'll indulge *my* curiosity for a little... I notice that your scale colour is... different to the other kobolds I've seen here." He paused. "I hope I don't offend by asking why..?"

Ikaris took a slow puff from his pipe, before blowing the sweet-scented smoke out from his snout. "Yes, but I cannot blame you for the observation... interesting, so very few notice," Ikaris said, his voice even but strained. "If you wish to know, I was born far in the north, to clan Winternight. I was a servant of the Northern Concorde; an alliance of white dragons who live on and around the polar cap."

"My old master..." the kobold continued, tapping his pipe against his muzzle. "Well, he did a number of... unwise things. He was a poor leader; angry and emotional. He took out his anger on my clan when *he* failed - which was rather frequently- and gave me this for my own troubles," Ikaris said, gently tapping the side of his dead, scarred eye.

"My clan and I served this stupid beast for many years, until one day Shakarhan paid us a visit to trade with my old master. While I was serving the tea, he slipped me a message. Can you guess what he offered me and my clan? What he asked us to do?" Ikaris asked, smiling broadly, but with an oddly off-putting expression. Was it a warning not to probe further, that the question was rhetorical? Or a genuine invitation to ask?

Akarth noticed something odd in the air; a hint of something underneath the heavy smoke in the air. Waxy and warm; heavy and thick. The heat in the caverns was almost palpably heavier; the sun must be setting, the desert winds slowing, the slight cooling breeze through the caverns ceasing. He felt like he was baking in here, filled with hot food and smoking a hot pipe. If Ikaris noticed his discomfort though, the kobold certainly wasn't showing it.

Admittedly, the tobacco was good, but the additional heat was making him sweat like a pig. He wondered with a twinge of panic if it was some sort of poison taking effect - and the rush of adrenaline only heightened his discomfort. He needed to find an excuse to leave, and go lie down...

No, he daren't lie down... who knows what might happen to him while his guard was down. No, he had to stay awake, all night if need be. He could sleep the day away back with the friendly nomads he'd dealt with before, and head back to the city in the cool night.

He suddenly remembered that Ikaris was waiting for him to answer, or change the subject.

"Er... what did he ask..?" Akarth began, hesitantly.

In spite of his discomfort, he was genuinely intrigued by the story. He'd not expected something so... dark? He felt almost sorry for Ikaris... but he dismissed the notion quickly. The story might be a lie, and this might be the intended effect, to put him at ease, make him take pity on the sorcerer. Perhaps the tale, though, would tell him something about his hosts... and possibly, adversaries. "Did he... want you to come with him? Or... turn on your old master? Betray him?"

Ikaris smiled wanly as he continued talking, a distant look in his eye. "Yes, though I would hesitate to use the word 'betray'. It would be more appropriate to say that our old master betrayed our oath of service, and we merely returned the favour. Shakarhan tore his throat out, and Winternight pledged a new oath to Shakarhan's service in return. There were not many of us left alive after the battle, but kobolds are a hearty race. If we can survive, we can thrive..."

The kobold tapped his pipe out into an ashtray and stood up, jumping down off his chair and stretching, his eye refocusing on his surroundings. "Ah!" he barked, shaking his muzzle and beginning to walk away. "My apologies. Such morbid subjects are not fit for the dinner table. But perhaps you understand why I take my duty so seriously; this is not about profit to me. I am concerned about the welfare of the clans under my supervision. That weighs heavily upon my thoughts..."

Still walking away, Ikaris half-gestured for Akarth to follow him. "Come. I'll show you where you can stay. The warrens might be a bit cramped at the moment, but you have earned our hospitality, mage."

Akarth nodded, and stood, taking a final puff of his pipe as he did so. Some odd quality to that tobacco, very fine stuff, but... something bothered him. Still, he felt a degree of relief knowing that he'd have somewhere he could try and cool down a bit, soon.

"You have my thanks... again..." he mumbled, walking after his host. The tunnels here were very cramped, clearly not built for the easy passage of a human-sized being; Akarth could barely keep up, holding his small, fairly feeble magical light-stone carefully, all too aware that the kobolds around the complex of caves found the light distressing. They lived underground, in perpetual darkness; their eyes were not well adapted to bright lights.

Akarth followed his host's tail just ahead of him as he crawled through a section of the caves where he had to get down on hands and knees; his clothes would need mending after this, he guessed, with a bit of irritation. Oh well; the price of making an impression.

He'd not really had many dealings with other races; Elves and Halflings looked very much like humans, as - really - did Orcs. Kobolds were very different, he considered, watching the way Ikaris' tail twisted and turned like a snake, sometimes seeming to twice of its own volition. A very enigmatic appendage indeed...

They entered the warrens proper through a tunnel a mere four and a half feet high yet more than twenty across. Past a series of discrete guard posts, the tunnel opened up into a vast, wide, circular chamber. Akarth was rather shocked at the quality of the stonework here; unlike the smoothed-out natural caverns that comprised the rest of the lair, this section looked like it had been carved by expert hands. Neat tiles paved the entryways to kitchens and store rooms, workshops and libraries. Against the far wall, longer hallways twisted off into deep, dimmer caverns.

There must have been at least a hundred kobolds milling about inside this one chamber. The warmth and energy of their presence was palpable; almost stifling.

The only thing that surprised Akarth more than the small city of tunnels and caverns its denizens. Dozens upon dozens of kobolds were still going about their work even at the hour. Most bore tan or brown scales, but a handful were clad in in a shade of grey quite like Ikaris' hide. Akarth caught the kobolds looking at him, pointing and whispering to one another. They gave him a very wide berth, though; their curiosity and suspicion were palpable.

Akarth felt threatened by the crowd. He'd never been especially good in large groups of people, and he was conscious, increasingly, of how outmatched he was. He might - just - have been able to make a run for it if there were just one or two kobolds around; but the hundreds here? Or was it even thousands? In the dim light he couldn't really see, but the subtle sounds of motion and the distant hissing whisper of voices was all around him, a cacophony of possible threats. Danger could be anywhere.

"Hmmm. Akarth Saron, follow me," the sorcerer commanded, walking towards one of the far tunnels that descended down deeper into the warrens. "I must apologize before we reach our destination. Some of the construction in our warrens is still ongoing; we do not yet have guest quarters constructed. But we will attempt to accommodate you in... comfort."

"I see... is it possible that... I could be placed somewhere near the surface? Only, being so far below the ground makes me feel a little... uncomfortable..." he said, moments before wondering if he should have waited to arrive at a room, then found an excuse to demand a different one instead - hopefully foiling any traps they'd laid there.

But, no, he decided; with the mention of the problem that guest quarters were still being constructed, he couldn't diplomatically be able to find fault with their hospitality and demand different rooms, not without insulting them.

Damn. They were good.

The only thing that gave him comfort was the amulet hanging from his neck, its protective aura suffusing him with a gentle, soothing feeling. It made his skin feel as if it was being cooled, yet constantly in the process of being warmed by a fire's radiant heat. Akarth felt more alert and energetic than he'd felt in a score of years; light, limber and ready for anything. But more than the sense of alertness and alacrity it seemed to grant him, he felt safer knowing that the magic was real; if the amulet had been a fake, it would only be because they meant to end his life.

But some of the feelings the Amulet of Aegyrious gave him were so strange, he was not quite sure what to make of them. The artificer could sense vague currents and eddies of *flow* all around him, and within his own blood. He could feel ghostly, ephemeral sensations of energy flowing into and away from him, and subtle little pricks of electric sensation.

Ikaris didn't seem to notice his companion's changes in mood; the kobold seemed preoccupied with making his way with a minimum of fuss. The sorcerer led Akarth through the dark, steeply-sloped tunnel and then down through a winding series of bends and turns until they were walking through a dimly-lit, very humid passage.

The cavern they were in now was long and wide, with a curving ceiling covered in sprawling, colorful mosaics. Set into regular, geometric intervals along the passage, small, kobold-sized tunnels led into their communal bedchambers. At the far end of the cavern, steam drifted out from a dark tunnel.

"Here," Ikaris said plainly, intermittently tapping his staff along the stone underfoot. "You may sleep wherever you wish. Again; I apologize for the inconvenience. Breakfast tomorrow is at second bell; I shall see you then."

Akarth looked around him, barely able to make out the distant shapes of rooms in the walls. Were there even doors here, or did the cavern walls just open into miners' bunks without privacy? Could he survive a few hours in this oppressive heat without going mad? Would he have to share rooms with several chattering miners?

More like several assassins. In a crowded room, the first he might know of an attempt on his life was a dagger to the kidney. It surely wouldn't do.

"Er... here? But... surely I can't just..." he began, fumbling the words as he tried to keep pace with events. He'd expected a private room of some kind, at least, even if it turned out to be sized more for kobolds than humans. "What I mean is... isn't there any... private room? Is there anywhere I won't be disturbed? And..." he paused. "...is there any bed or chair that I'd fit into? I don't mean to be rude, but... I doubt kobold furnishings would work for me!"

Ikaris laughed. "Furnishings, we can improvise, but private quarters? Heh... surely you joke!" the kobold said, a harsh edge entering his laugh... almost mocking, Akarth thought. "No. Kobolds do not do things 'privately'; it is not our way. It just isn't! If our negotiations hadn't been tonight, I would not even have dined apart from my clan brothers and sisters..."

Ikaris began walking towards the steamy tunnel at the end of the cavern, humming quietly to himself. The kobold's tail swayed energetically behind him and he picked up his pace, threatening to leave Akarth behind.

A vague, knotted feeling began to build in Akarth's stomach as the kobold walked away from him, and his heart began to race. But before Ikaris had walked to far along, the magus turned and directed a slight smile towards him. The kobold held his tongue for a moment further, considering his words. "Hmm... there is more I should say, if you don't wish to sleep yet. You may join me in the baths if you wish to cleanse yourself. Our water comes from an underground hot spring; it is quite... rejuvenating..."

"Wh... but, but..." Akarth struggled to keep pace, bent low as he was in the cramped tunnel. Damn; he wouldn't have a defensible position, and by the sounds of things, he might even be surrounded by possible avenues of attack. What was this suggestion of a bath, too? A way to get him to leave any concealed weapons and valuables somewhere away from his person? Though, they *did* think he was a mage, so perhaps he could use that to his advantage, being nonchalant might give an impression of power... and, really, a wash would be good after the trek through the dust and sand.

Why, he thought, was he finding excuses to have a bath in a hot spring? Admittedly, he was tired and travel-weary, but this was hardly the time or place.

It was tempting though...

"Where is it I shall be quartered for the night, then? What manner of place?" he asked, trying to sound unmoved and calm. He felt a bit peculiar, stretched out in a strange way, highly strung somehow; more than just from paranoia.

Ignoring the human, Ikaris parted a heavy, leathery curtain covering the tunnel exit and stepped through into a thick cloud of steam, breathing deeply from the hot, pungent, sulphuric fumes that billowed through.

Past the curtain, Akarth could see a wide, low-slung cavern filled with carved stone basins. Hot, smoky water cascaded from a meandering, rock-lined river into each basin- the largest of which was only about five meters across. Inside the shallow baths, groups of kobolds talked in low whispers and washed each other's bodies, congregating in groups of four, five, six or more in the occupied baths. Racks of oils, lotions and thick-bristled scrubbing brushes sat around the edge of the room. Despite the seemingly-crude construction, the functionality of the baths spoke of rather impressive engineering. Akarth could even see a dry, very shallow chamber near the back of the room in which a trio of green-brown kobolds were drying their scales near an iron-caged fire.

Without anything in the way of introduction, Akarth set his staff aside and began to pull his robe up and over his head, revealing a set of grey-drab undergarments. Some of the bathers turned and barked greetings to their mage, but others seemed a little off-put by the sudden appearance of a human in their midst. Inquisitive eyes traced over Akarth's presence, and they began to whisper to themselves.

This was something Akarth had not expected. *Public* baths? No, no, he definitely could not use these. His initial instinct to avert his eyes was overridden by the sudden realisation that all the kobolds seemed to be female; no male equipment was in sight at all. Was this some kind of kobold harem, perhaps, not unlike the luxuriant tubs some of the less... highly-motivated members of his social class liked to inhabit with their scantily-clad 'bathhouse ladies'..?

He was startled as Ikaris too started to disrobe, but couldn't stop himself glancing down in surprise at seeing that Ikaris, too, had no visible genitalia either. He cursed inwardly; had he mistakenly been calling a female 'he' all through the negotiation? Was that some sort of insult in kobold culture? Why hadn't he been corrected?

But, no, as he thought harder, he realised that couldn't be true; he had definitely heard Ikaris referred to as 'he', independently, by other kobolds. They would not make such a mistake.

So why did Ikaris have no...?

He suddenly realised he was staring at Ikaris' crotch like a gawping moron, in front of the whole bathhouse, while the mostly-naked sorcerer was blinded by the robe catching on horns and ridges and points on his muzzle. He averted his gaze.

What was wrong with him? Ever since dinner, he'd felt slightly light-headed... he wondered if perhaps he'd not been sufficiently paranoid about the drink. It might not have been poisoned as such, but if there was enough alcohol in it to make him sluggish and sedate...

Now undressed, Akarth could see that Ikaris' grey-scaled body was surprisingly lean and limber. The spellcaster had small but obviously-muscled legs and arms, and another few small scars along his chest and throat. The mottled-grey scales along his face and hands seemed to be the exception rather than the rule; his belly, backside and crotch were all smooth, finely-scaled and almost glossy. Tail swishing behind him happily, the sorcerer began to walk towards the nearest bath- this one occupied by four kobolds with sandy, desert-hued scales like the majority of the reptiles present. When Ikaris approached the lip of the sulphurous spring, he paused and curled his toeclaws over the edge, tail pointedly rising into the air as he addressed his brethren.

"Brothers... would you mind a little outside company?" the sorcerer asked, smiling in a way that showed his sharp teeth. There was a brief commotion- a sputtering of laugher, a yip of protest from one concerned-looking reptile- but they quickly reached a sort of communal consensus and nodded to the grey-scaled kobold. Ikaris turned back around to face Akarth, eyeing him expectantly.

"Er... I'm not sure I..." Akarth began, before trailing off. Brothers? Could they all be eunuchs, did dragons customarily insist on such things?

Belatedly, he felt somewhat foolish; well, dragons, too, came in male and female varieties, but they had no obvious genitals, despite their proclivities being legendary in many cases. Kobolds were dragonblooded; maybe they shared some sort of anatomical hiding-place, it would make sense.

He realised he was now staring fixedly at Ikaris' tail. What was wrong with him? He seemed obsessed with his negotiating nemesis all of a sudden.

"I, er, I'm not sure I'd like... like to..." he began again, faltering. How could he escape with dignity intact? He'd been only reluctantly granted admittance, by the looks of things; would he insult them by turning them down? But, ugh, the idea of stripping in front of these irritating little reptiles...

He felt himself blush. Surely that was too harsh. But, what if one was an assassin, intending harm? Not that they seemed to have any obvious weapons around; in fact it now seemed ridiculous to even consider it. There was such a thing as being too paranoid... perhaps he was even causing offense by behaving badly? Which risk was the greater?

Smiling and looking directly at Akarth, Ikaris' one good eye almost seemed to gleam in the dim, steamy cavern. But he turned away with a swish of his tail before sliding into the hot, steamy bath with a low, growling sigh. Tension seemed to pour from the kobold's muzzle as he sank into the shallow bath, giving a contented rumble as his concentration broke.

Eyes slightly lidded with relaxation, Ikaris seemed almost transformed by the warm water. One of the sandy-scaled kobolds in the bath with him took a brush from the edge of the stony pool and began to scrub the sorcerer's backscales, much to Ikaris' evident delight. The dragon's major-domo smiled at his fellows in an unabashed, friendly, relaxed manner that seemed totally alien to Akarth after their hard-edged negotiations.

"Are you quite alright, Akarth?" the kobold began to ask, turning around mid-question so that his front could be scrubbed as well. His grey scales partially blended in the sulphurous, smoky water, and his tail dragged through it in meandering swishes that made small waves. "Mmmm... mmm... you know... there's something I realised some time ago, but I thought it more polite not to comment... the Amulet of Aegyrious doesn't seem to be working, does it?"

Akarth's eyes widened. What did he mean, it wasn't working!? "Er, what? Of... of course it is!" he exclaimed; yes, he could feel the protective aura, the magic flow...

Ikaris smiled toothily. "I was concerned I'd offend you at first, but I confess I'm now completely certain. You aren't a mage, are you..? "

Akarth froze; damn. He hadn't expected a direct challenge like this; he'd been content letting them think him a mage by... deciding not to disillusion them. But now, did he make his lie overt, and remove any chance of explaining it as a misunderstanding? What if they had proof he was lying immediately the words left his lips? Or was Ikaris bluffing?

Ikaris was competent and clever. He might be bluffing, but he wouldn't make the guess if he didn't have strong reason... there might be a way to maintain the ambiguity, he decided.

"Well, I haven't had a chance to fully identify all its properties yet, I'd planned that for when I had some time alone..." he said. "Why, what were you expecting it to do?"

The kobolds seemed pretty relaxed and at ease, except about the stranger in their midst; there didn't seem to be any danger here. In fact, he felt rather guilty about the paranoia; Ikaris was no longer on edge either, no longer acting like he *expected* something to happen, not like he was *angry*. Perhaps he'd merely been concealing residual anger from the negotiation table. Or perhaps he just found Akarth irritating on a personal level, and was now at ease because he'd figured out that Akarth was hiding something.

Akarth took in the sight of the happy and surprisingly intimate scene between the kobolds before him. Perhaps Ikaris had just been missing the company of his own kind. Something else Akarth could envy him for... not, best not focus on negative thoughts now.

A bath was... very tempting, actually; he was really tense after the long journey and careful trading... get his skin scrubbed, real soaps and ointments for a change, warm water...

Egh, but sharing a bath like that? With several other men?

Several other *kobolds*, he reminded himself, not even human or near-human. Was that better or worse? Probably worse, or it should be.

But for some reason, the excuses he made for not bathing came slower this time. He could feel his willpower eroding... would there really be so much harm? It might be quite nice to get waited on for a bit... and if nothing else, it could be an interesting anecdote to relate to a future client over a dinner table.

Ikaris flicked his tail and swam backwards, deeper into the bath. The other kobolds traded the scrubbing brush among themselves as they continued to watch the exchange between their clan-mate and the human, before one of them seized it and dutifully began washing Ikaris' feet. Akarth was increasingly, uncomfortably aware that everyone in the room had fallen silent, curious to hear what Ikaris and the human had to say to each other...

The kobold sorcerer sighed with deep contentment as his foot-scales were scrubbed. "Oh... well, I only mention this because the amulet's primary effect is to imbue its wielder with draconic traits. For those with dragon-blood in their veins the effect is pronounced and quite obvious- the growth of scales, occasionally a tail or wings along with quite a lot of physical and magical power. Wizards, and other more learned arcanists, find the effect subtler but still quite obvious; enhancement of their mind, memory and might... and usually a smaller alteration, such as earfins or horns. But always immediate, you see! Nothing has happened to you... and this is quite critical-" Ikaris laughed a little, propelling himself towards the edge of the bath with a few quick tail-flicks and kicks that looked like the strangest form of swimming Akarth had ever seen- "You see, if you can't control magic, the magic controls *you*..."

The kobolds in the baths with Ikaris began to chuckle nervously along with him, though it looked like they weren't clued in to the joke, merely following the more intelligent kobold's lead.

"Er... you mean... what's gonna happen to hims?" the kobold who'd been scrubbing Ikaris asked, while two other rushed up to the edge of the hot spring and began to stare open-muzzled at Akarth.

"Is he gonna be 'kay?" the fourth kobold asked, turning his nose up slightly. "Eh. He's kinda sickly-ickly lookin'..."

Ikaris smiled at that. "Well, I certainly *hope* you'd consider his condition to be, at the least, manageable..." He cryptically replied.

"Wha-?"

"What d'sat mean?"

Akarth felt a momentary twinge of worry. He'd been feeling weird for a while, maybe that was the amulet, doing something to...

No, he thought, confidence flooding back. He'd dealt with 'dangerous' magic, before; he'd never had anything untoward happening. His mental defences were second to none, and he was careful, to boot. He'd not felt any strong emanations from the amulet; odd surges, but nothing untoward.

It was a test, he reasoned; an attempt by Ikaris to frighten him into revealing that he had no magical power. Or if not, he'd be damned if he was going to stand here all night and have jibes poked at him by a roomful of confused lizards. Time to sample the local culture.

So he smiled, a little forced.

"Manageable? Well, I would certainly say our client-relationship may need a little work, I would have thought this would be something you'd have tried to mention *before* the purchase..." he said, starting to loosen his shirt. Nonchalant, that was the way.

"You know, a bath does sound quite refreshing, actually", he said, slipping his shirt and shoes off, "...but if you will excuse my modesty, there are a few items I like to keep with me at all times." He self-consciously slipped his pants off, painfully aware that every kobold in the room was watching him, curious and a little confused at the exchange.

His fingers grasped the amulet, and pulled lightly. Should he take it off? Or was that the point, so they could steal it back?

It didn't seem to yield easily... it seemed heavier than once it was. Crap; was it cursed in some way? He'd checked, but sometimes these things could be extremely well hidden... nothing *seemed* wrong with it or its function.

There was an acid test; if it was cursed, had some side-function, it would resist any effort to remove itself from his person. So, could he remove it if he wanted to? If not, he could deal with that; it wouldn't be his first mishap with such a trick. But it took time... and if it was cursed it might not have encountered its triggering condition yet, most cursed items had some specific circumstance that would activate their magical effect.

He released his grip without pulling more at the amulet; he didn't really want to find out. There was little he could do right now, one way or another. "This new trinket being one, I think..." he said, carefully showing off the jewelled headband he wore, as well as his collection of rings, as he stepped forward toward Ikaris' pool. He didn't even know if he'd fit, come to think; it must be fairly shallow if kobolds could stand around in it.

Ikaris laughed, turning towards the kobold behind him to share his amusement before again facing the human. "You have literally no idea, do you? You're no magus, but you pretend with trinkets and baubles. Well, I admit you had me fooled for a while, Akarth; but I'm not sure you're going to appreciate the consequences of your deception..."

The kobold's smug, mirth-filled eyes traced lower, staring at the human's belly. Following the kobold's eyes he looked down himself, to see an angry, red rash covering a thick segment of skin between his bellybutton and side.

"This is the problem with appropriating power without understanding it, human. Without the ability to direct the flow of power, it is spent over your soul like rain instead of properly imbibed. I suspected something was wrong when you first put on the amulet and showed no immediate reaction... but this confirms my theory..."

Akarth scowled, and suddenly hated the smug sorcerer's casual put-downs. In front of a crowd, no less... Akarth hated to be humiliated. And it was their misunderstanding, really, he'd never *said* he was a mage himself!

Damnation, if he'd been alone when trying to wear the gods-forsaken amulet, maybe he'd have realised something was amiss immediately. He was no stranger to items that had very specific effects depending on the talents of the wearer; it was not usually too hard to 'trick' them into releasing some of their gifts productively, 'directing the flow of power' as Ikaris put it, even if he himself was not the intended recipient.

Might they have spiked his wine after all? He'd taken precautions against poison, not subtle magical reagents and potions - or even mundane alcohol clouding his judgement. Maybe they'd intended to keep him distracted to keep him from realising anything was amiss...

But no, he realised, dejectedly. He'd been so paranoid that the kobolds might wish him harm, he'd not thought that the amulet's normal function might be harmful to him.

"What-what-what-what?" one of Ikaris' confused comrades yipped, dropping the scale-brush into the sud-covered water. The sand-scaled kobold stared at the patch of discoloured skin and sniffed the air, twisting his head sideways as though nearly noticing something...

"Hm... this is going to be interesting..." Ikaris said with a laugh, backing away from the middle of the bath with a swift kick, before lazing back against the far wall with his arms behind him and feet and tail floating on the surface.

"W...what's that?" He asked, suddenly feeling quite perturbed, squatting self-consciously on the edge of the bathing-pool, prodding at the rash. Now he was aware of its existence it itched, and burned; probably mostly in his mind, but he felt himself start to panic. Damnation, he'd felt a little peculiar the moment he'd put the damn thing on, and his belly had been feeling slightly strange ever since dinner. Hells, why was he in his underwear preparing to have a bath in a roomful of kobolds?! What magic had they tricked him into?

He dropped the pretence, and tugged at the amulet; nothing. It was like it was glued to his skin, or like gravity had somehow increased so he couldn't lift it; there was no tugging at his neck or unbearable weight, it just remained immobile as if he'd not tried removing it. It didn't feel like the painful tug of a cursed item... more like the amulet was *connected* to his skin, like he was pulling a part of himself!

"Okay... seriously, help me get this off!" he said, trying to sound calm, somewhat in control. "What's it doing?!"

Sitting back on the rim of the bath, Ikaris tut-tutted and shook his head, trailing a toeclaw idly through the steaming waters while the sandy-scaled kobolds crowded at the opposite edge, staring up at Akarth with a mixture of expressions.

"Help you remove it? Heh, that wasn't part of our bargain. What sort of creature would I be, to take away your richly-deserved payment?" Ikaris laughed. "It is extremely unlikely to be *too* detrimental. Oh, my, though, this *is* amusing!"

The kobolds were growing more excited, agitated. Akarth's red rash was slowly spreading upwards, and now that his clothing had been removed he could see other discolorations on his arms and legs. Faint and splotchy, but growing steadily...

"Oooh, it's spreading..."

"What is his name?"

"What a silly human..."

"Ikaris? Is he gonna be okay? Should we get an alchemist..?" they all spoke at once.

"He's fine; no need to worry..." Ikaris responded to nobody in particular, with a smile and lazy flick of his wrist. "Anyway. Yes, it *can* be removed; the effect is probably not yet permanent. But it's dangerous to do so... and I don't think I'm going to. Do you know what happens to most magic-inept individuals who wear an Amulet of Aegyrious? They tend to turn into dragonkin... often kobolds." He grinned. "Either way, I think you'll more amenable in our future negotiations... less trying to talk the price down..." he finished, smiling and laughing at Akarth.

Akarth tugged again, futilely. "You can't do this to me! I'm neither dragonkin nor kobold, you can't just... I can pay you! Pay for the removal, just, please, don't do this!"

But, his mind was already racing ahead. Even if it turned out to be permanent, it wasn't exactly a fatal blow. Plenty of magic for alteration of the form existed, he could probably get it reversed covered over with other magic, maybe even effectively reversed. Such changes were rare, but not *unprecedented*... he wouldn't have too much trouble accessing his estates and wealth once friends and servants were persuaded he was still the same person.

In fact, the worst victims of all this might well be the kobolds themselves. No other business would come this way, and he'd certainly never deal with them again. Maybe he'd even take steps to make sure they found other trade... difficult, too.

But was it really their fault? He'd misled them, even if only by omission... and maybe Ikaris overstated his vengeful angle. Hadn't he said it might be dangerous to stop it now?

He sighed as he looked down at himself; the ruddy skin was starting to flake, like a bad sunburn; but it was only an illusion, those flaky ridges were the thin edges of *scales* starting to form.

"...So, let me guess, you don't really know if you even *can* remove it, or you're not sure it's safe to..." he shrugged. "I can hardly blame you for a little ill-feeling at this stage... wait", he said, a nasty thought striking him, and he felt his increasingly frequent anger at the smug, grey-scaled kobold resurface. "What do you mean 'more amenable'? Are you using... mental domination? Mind... mind control?" His voice trailed off a little.

There was something... odd in the air. A faint hint of something spicy, a peculiar musk. Herbal, maybe, a lotion of some kind? His head was feeling fuzzy again; the feeling was *very* like being drunk, but without the debilitating physical and sensory effects...

"Mind control magic?" Ikaris shook his head, suddenly serious again. "You strange, sad creature; you see deception and betrayal at every turn when the fault lies solely with your own hubris. I'll tell you why I am not going to help you remove the amulet..."

Sliding off the edge of the bath, Ikaris turned towards the sand-colored kobolds nearby with a curious, almost wistful look in his yellow eye. The kobold considered his comrades for a moment, but turned up towards Akarth again, smiling with his eyes slightly narrowed.

"You've been useful. You're one of the only traders in the entire region willing and able to deal on full professional terms. Elves, dwarves, humans, dragons... most races consider us to be little more than chattel to be enslaved... but not you. Sure, your tongue can be a little crass outside the lair - we have some sources of information in the desert, you know - but our professional relationship has been... mostly good. Trustworthy. I would like it to continue... and yet..."

Smiling broadly, Ikaris slunk down into the hot bath until only his muzzle was above water, still staring upward with his good eye. "Yet... I find myself fascinated by this, aheh, unexpected natural experiment. I'm quiet curious how the metamorphosis will change you, Akarth. I have a feeling you might be even more... understanding... when you share our nature. Do you think this prediction too bold? Is it such a lamentable fate? Why don't you tell my clan-brothers how you feel?"

Akarth still felt angry. But he found himself feeling a little proud at the compliment. Well, true, he didn't consider kobolds to be beneath him, or at least, no more than he considered any other race beneath him. It wasn't a thought that had really occurred to him before.

He tried persuading them again to help him. "But I can't be a... Er... well, I mean it's not right... er, that is, not that it's 'lamentable' to be a kobold, it's just... erm... but, what I'm trying to say is, I'm human... it's not what... I mean it isn't the..."

Eager kobold eyes watched him, and he found himself struggling for the words. How could he put it in such a way that they wouldn't be insulted? They surely couldn't, honestly, not understand his position, could they?

He could say he wouldn't fit into human society, but that wasn't *quite* true... he would endure a lot of disdain and surprise, but he was used to dealing with such things anyway, mages were notoriously arrogant. He could say he wanted his own body, but it wasn't like his body would be any less *his*, it just wouldn't be the one he wanted. But how could he really say he'd 'wanted' a human body? It was just how he'd been born, what he was used to.

Damnation, it seemed so clear in his head, but his tongue tripped on the concepts and his mind danced uselessly between confusion and xenophobia. Maybe they were right, maybe he needed a change of perspective; he'd gotten too careless.

Why was he thinking like that? He did not want to be a kobold! Although... dragonkin, perhaps, might earn some respect from certain parties... ironically, including this one.

His skin itched as the burning sensation swept up his torso, as well as down his legs. He felt his crotch throb quite unpleasantly for a moment, and felt desperately scared for his manhood; but, he was in a public setting, being observed with morbid fascination by a bunch of... well, kobolds. He dared not check what was happening; he gritted his teeth and hoped.

His eyes itched, too, and he blinked suddenly as the light seemed to sharply brighten in the room... and he realised, with a slight start of surprise, that he'd left his light-stone in a pocket on the far side of the room - the place had been extremely dimly lit for some time, but somehow he'd been seeing very well despite the gloom. Kobolds, he'd been told, didn't even *need* light to see in their underground communes... he'd been changing for longer than he realised.

So, he pondered logically, why had it suddenly increased in speed now? Had Ikaris done something, cast a spell... no, no, that made no sense, Ikaris had shown himself to be smug and... well, a little vindictive and haughty, perhaps. Untrusting in general, but not *untrustworthy*.

Was it the proximity of the kobolds that was causing it? Catalysing it somehow?

He looked around the room; several kobolds, but most specifically those nearby, were sniffing the air, curiously, confusedly, as they watched and waited for him to speak. He might have a body like theirs soon... was that really *so* bad? They were lean and wiry, slender, and fast, really fast. They were small, sure, but their bodies must be pretty efficient machines, to do so much hard manual labour while consuming a relatively paltry amount of food... it might even be useful to have such a body, during long treks...

He found his eyes lingering on the kobolds on the far side of the room, the glint of firelight on scales, the silhouettes... something about the angle of the muzzle and the arch of the tail that was actually quite apposite, the way the light played across naked scale...

He shivered and looked away, momentarily confused at the direction his thoughts were going; and, that strange smell was getting stronger.

"Are you going to stand there naked all night, or are you going to join us? There's little that can be done, so you might as well make the most of it. The water is really quite nice today..." Ikaris said, lightly patting the water around him with a clawed hand, making little splashes, as he slid in with practiced ease. The kobold's grey scales had a slick, polished sheen to them now that he'd been scrubbed and washed in the hot water. The other kobolds looked like they'd been in for even longer; their scales looked positively supple. Little wonder; the reptiles' scales couldn't get waterlogged the same way porous skin could...

One of the desert-hued kobolds licked his muzzle-tip, nonplussed by the exchange between Ikaris and Akarth, and at the intense gaze Akarth was giving him. "Erm, we don't bite, you know..."

"Yes you do!" Another kobold said with a tittering laugh, splashing the other playfully.

"Well its nots the same like thats!" he countered, turning to retaliate. "Not humans!"

"Hm... you say 'es not gonna be a human for longer, though?" the third asked Ikaris, carefully making sure he understood the situation.

Ikaris smiled and began to address the question. "Not likely. Judging by the scale pattern, discharge of arcane..."

Interrupting the mage, one of the kobolds licked the air, and his sand-tan crest perked up slightly. "Startin' to taste like kobold..."

"That too." Ikaris finished, blithely joining in to the ongoing waterfight by splashing both combatants with his tail. "Hey, hey, stop it; don't waste good water!" he chuckled.

"Ikaris, you splash-fight all the time!"

"Er..." Ikaris looked genuinely embarrassed for a split second. "Not in front of guests, and-" Ikaris began, before being tackled by one of his energetic clan-mates. More amused than angered, the sorcerer backed away as both turned to splash him, covering up his good eye with a paw while trying to disentangle himself from the kobold now wrapped around him. "Hey! Stop, this might not be the time..."

As the kobolds began to wrestle and splash in the water, a sinking feeling began to spread through Akarth's body; but he felt lightheaded - their laughter and mood was infectious. His legs and thighs were tingling and his spine was contracting in little, relaxing pops as he began to shrink. The ruddy, rough patches continued growing over his bare skin, but they felt... oddly comfortable. It was almost nice, the way that the forming scales tightened across his shrinking body, pulling close and taut around his musculature to protect him...

Suddenly, what Ikaris had said registered with his slightly dazed brain. Are you going to stand there naked... "Naked..?" he asked. He wasn't naked, he was just in his underw...

He looked down and gave a gasp of surprise which sounded awfully like a kobold's yip; his underpants had, at some point since his change started, had come loose and fallen down his altering and - presumably - shrinking form. He'd been so distracted he'd not even noticed!

His maleness looked, if anything, unusually turgid... not erect, nowhere near, but not shrivelled in the way one would expect in so... completely nonsexual an environment and after so thorough a shock. He *felt* a little... well, mildly titillated by the kobolds' antics, that probably explained it.

No, wait, it didn't explain it at all, why would that cause any...

He strong-mindedly pushed the thought back down, and, realising that he'd unwittingly bared himself to the kobolds long ago, was momentarily hesitant to cover himself again. Would it look odd? Would he just look a prudish fool? Glancing around, he noticed that several kobolds' stares, including some of the more confused and amazed, were indeed fixed on his crotch. But of course, they knew nothing of human 'plumbing', he reasoned.

He felt embarrassed, but was the focus of too much attention; he didn't dare try to hide his nudity now. It would just reinforce his status as an outsider, a foreign presence. And he wanted to fit in.

That thought startled him; but it shouldn't, he quickly rationalised. He was in a bad situation; he wanted some measure of companionship and emotional support. These kobolds weren't treating him badly... very much the opposite, he'd actually not often met quite so carefree a reception. He still felt embarrassed by his nakedness, but he also envied the ease with which the kobolds carried their own nudity, played together, rubbed against one another without shame, bathed and had such an easy intimacy together.

Male kobolds, he reminded himself. But the thought didn't fill him with the usual aversion it once would have... in fact, it sparked something deep in the back of his mind... something he didn't quite understand...

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance, and tossed his underpants aside... he felt sure they seemed just a tad too large for him. Had he lost a few inches of height? "Er... actually, I might... if I may... it might be nice to... ease the itching a bit..." he said, looking into the murky water, scratching his flank idly, feeling the skin harden into scales under his skin, and testing the water with a single foot... noticing that his toes seemed a little longer and thinner than usual.

The sensation of heat trickling up his toes felt quite unlike they usually did when testing bathwater. A feeling of being pulled and stretched tingled through his toetips in little waves; he felt his toes flex upward and out reflexively as the magic burned into them, before concentrating in the tips.

An urgent, tickling feeling began to build under his toenails, but before the feelings could grow much stronger, three sets of paws grabbed hold of Akarth's feet and swept him off-balance, pulling him sideways and into the water with a huge splash. Despite the awkward flop into the water, his partially-grown scales absorbed the impact easily, spreading and diffusing the fall's force into a dulled, painless feeling. However, the shock of being submerged made Akarth sputter as hot, sulphurous water went up his nose and mouth, filling both with a soapy, slightly-saline taste...

Laughing at the human, Ikaris leaned over and brushed hair away from Akarth's brow- hair that easily fell away from his head in clumps instead of being stuck to his skin. Akarth began to notice other strange things with detached, nearly-drugged laxity; the way water droplets rolled off his eyes instead of stinging them; the scent of wet, warm, musky scales being cleaned; the half-audible yips that were just now edging into his hearing range. Why did the water rolling down his ears feel so strange? Like the trickle of water and falling hair was descending down a sharper point instead of a broad curve. So many sensations at once, impossible to process them all...

...and then his eyes met Ikaris' again. Despite the sorcerer's dead eye and sorcerous power, it was suddenly easy to see that the sorcerer's severe demeanour had been a mere act put on for the benefit of outsiders. The magus was laughing and playing with his brethren with scarcely a hint of the cold, calculating detachment Akarth thought he'd understood.

It was hard to reconcile that image with the kobold before him now, holding a soapy scrubbing brush like a sword while one of his clan-mates pulled him away by his tail. The sorcerer turned and blew a puff of bubbles into the other kobold's face, covering the small creature's eyes and snout with white suds.

Akarth could feel his body warping faster; accelerated by the water, perhaps, or maybe by the proximity to the other kobolds. He wanted to get out, and run.

Did he? But he didn't know the way back; he was somewhere between human and kobold, belonging fully in neither world... and something in Ikaris' eye, the slightly, friendly, benevolent twinkle made him realise that his paranoia had been for naught. Ikaris wasn't like that; in fact, Ikaris might be a better friend than a great many Akarth had had before. Being a kobold might not be what Akarth *wanted*, or would *choose*, given the option... but it wasn't really anyone's fault, and, maybe, it would change the stand-offish start he'd unintentionally had with Ikaris. Maybe they could be friends, and share the same easy comfort together that Ikaris seemed to share with the other kobolds here.

He felt, vaguely, that something was amiss, that it was moving too fast. Hadn't he just met Ikaris earlier today for the first time? But, all the same, he had a strong feeling he was seeing the real Ikaris, the kobold behind the sombre, professional mask. And he liked what he saw. Might they be friends? He hoped so.

So he *did* want to be more kobold. At least to get it over with, and prove to Ikaris that he was trustworthy, prove that he wasn't just another human come to manipulate him and his people.

Ikaris addressed Akarth again, still chuckling but free from distractions for a moment, soaping up the thick-bristled brush. "Turn around; let me help you with those scales."

He nodded slowly, his head feeling alien to him; the leverage on his neck felt amiss, strange. "O...okay..." he said, turning around awkwardly, far too large for the shallow pool, and more than double the size of the other kobolds still. If it was proximity to kobolds that speeded his changes, maybe Ikaris' close presence would help quicken it... and again he felt that odd twinge of something else in the back of his mind, a different desire, some other but confusing reason why he wanted Ikaris to be close by, to feel the touch of scales on his skin... his scales...

A small scaly hand settled upon his fully-human left shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze, while at the same time Akarth felt the terribly strange sensation of a bristled brush press against his lower back, where the new hide felt taut and tight. The first brushes against the partially-formed scales felt so odd, they sent shivers down Akarth's spine and made him shake in the water. His proto-scales felt a lot tighter and closer than his skin; the fat under them was quickly disappearing- along with most of the muscle- leaving the odd, forming hide even tighter and closer to his body than before, like a full-body suit.

Yet the rough brushing made sensual, scraping sensations resonate over and into the slightly-numb scales, while simultaneously clearing away the dead skin left over them...

Akarth could hear dampened murmurs of conversation and yipping play-fights all around him now as his ears grew and splayed outward, slowly growing. Tiny twitches made them shake as muscles grew into place over and around them, until Akarth felt a small hand gently trace over the edges, curiously exploring them.

"Eeee... Ikaris? What is this? Why's his ears not shrink?" a small voice chirped up, as Akarth felt another tug on his grown ear.

A small laugh preceded the sorcerer's reply, though happily his vigorous scrubbing continued. "Ah; not all kobolds are exactly like us. We may have earholes... but our red and green cousins mostly possess earfins..."

"Oh... kinda cute..." the kobold murmured.

Akarth's ears seemed to twitch towards new sounds reflexively- though he could suppress it with a bit of an effort. He felt jumbled and excited, as though his shrinking stature was compressing his energy into a package too small to hold it all...

...and yet, as the taut blanket of scales spread over his back, Akarth felt strangely at peace. Deep inside the dark, warm lair, surrounded by happy, laughing kobolds, he felt safe; safer than he'd ever been in his life. Protected by the weight of the earth over his head, the dragon bound to the clans, the traps and guards, this deep inside the warrens... what was this curious feeling?

He wondered for a moment if he might see himself in a mirror, see what he now looked like. The water seemed to have risen higher on his frame now, his whole body smaller than before, even bone seeming to dissolve into nothing under the relentless onslaught of the magic flowing gradually out from the amulet he wore. But he wasn't fighting it now; he welcomed it. The change brought on feelings of safety, companionship, togetherness... and he found them far from unpleasant. Wanted more.

He gave a gasp and an involuntary shudder as the brush grazed roughly over a new nub of flesh at the base of his spine... a nub that quivered itself in response, new and unfamiliar muscles stretching as the brush rubbed across its hardening, growing surface again; a tail!

The new, intense, alien sensation almost hurt his confused brain, but it also felt so *good* somehow, new nerves and muscles being stimulated even before they'd finished forming.

Other changes were happening to that area, too; he felt his testicles pull up uncomfortably close to his body in the water, feeling a strange sucking sensation, as if his abdomen were trying to suck them inside. On instinct, the hand he wasn't using to balance himself flew to his crotch protectively... and found his maleness a bit more turgid than before, a lot more sensitive somehow. The shape seemed different, too; the tip subtly less rounded, the shaft thinner, slightly tapered...

Under the rippling, murky water, he couldn't see anything of note, but he had to suppress a slight moan as his exploring fingers unintentionally stimulated his flesh. The hand on his shoulder seemed almost to burn with intensity and intimacy. Akarth felt enthused and excited by the touch, and gave a deliberate pull on his slowly-engorging cock before he remembered that the touch belonged to Ikaris, until so recently his nemesis at the negotiating table. Ikaris, one-eyed, grey scaled... Ikaris, lithe and magically adept and muscular and... kind of handsome.

It lasted for a moment before he realised again where he was, and that Ikaris was also a *male*. He was stroking his cock, in public, thinking about how good an inhuman *male* looked, being aroused by having that same male standing naked in the water behind him, touching him... he felt like he should have been shocked, turned off, but again, the thought instead just made him feel conflicted and confused. It was embarrassment that made him draw his hand carefully away from his oddly-tight groin, hoping nobody noticed anything... what was happening to him..?

He became uncomfortably aware that the room hand gone quieter, and that the brush's strokes had ceased.

The hand on his shoulder slipped away, and then- with an electric suddenness- slowly closed around his turgid, ruddy shaft. A half-gasp caught in Akarth's throat as he looked down and saw the kobold's scaly, grey fingers wrapping around his maleness, giving it a firm squeeze underneath the milky water. Ikaris set his brush down in front of Akarth on the rim of the bathing pool and began to tug, tease and stroke his changing maleness- playing with the shifting organ, and giving a soft chuckle.

Akarth felt mortified; he had never been toyed with so, it was an invasion of his personal comfort zone, taking liberties with his body, it was a... a...

A fiery spark of lust surged through his testes as they settled deep inside his lower body, while at the same time he caught sight of his throbbing cockhead deforming into a spear-shaped tip. The sensitive flesh ran together like a melting candle, with erotic, melting, squeezing feelings that pulsed down his urethra and into his most sensitive places. His embarrassment was rapidly fading; the feel of Ikaris' scaly hand on his maleness was delicate, stimulating... and so very appealing, somehow...

There were no words; just yipping laughter and excited growls around him. Akarth felt a sudden lick run up his earfin from the side- a lick that made the growing fan twitch upward like an unfurled umbrella- while he was gently pushed against the edge of the bath. Much of his body now sank comfortably into the hot, soothing water, as Ikaris pulled him into an intimate but awkward sideways hug, still holding his erect phallus...

"It's okay, you know..." Ikaris whispered, a laugh again accompanying his words. "We are clan. We eat together... sleep together... bathe together... play together..."

As Ikaris spoke, one of the slight, tan-scaled kobolds slipped between Akarth and the rim of the bath, slipping up and out of the water but keeping his feet inside the bath. The kobold stared at Akarth with a curious look in his yellow eyes, before spreading his legs apart and revealing the slim slit along the front of his reptilian crotch. The kobold laughed and traced his toeclaws over Akarth's shaft, toying with it while Ikaris continued to gently fondle it. "Mmmm... he looks kobold enough to me..."

"Me too..."

"But 'es kinda big..."

"He's not a clanmate!"

"We can't just..."

Ikaris hissed sharply. "He's an honoured guest! Besides..." the kobold began, giving the changing human's shaft a firm, possessive squeeze, before fingering the reshaped head of the turgid organ. "I think he'd be... amenable... to clan bonding..." the kobold finished, drawing his muzzle into a grin.

Akarth groaned with surprise. Of all things, he'd not expected this; he wasn't exactly a stranger to sexual experiences, but never with a man... with men... with non-human men. Somewhere in the back of his mind he felt like he should be disgusted and embarrassed at the developing situation. He shouldn't be feeling arousal for Ikaris, however attractive and confident the kobold was...

But the confused thoughts melted away as he felt the slight frame of the sorcerer pressing against his back, holding him tight, a rough-scaled claw teasing his half-hard shaft as, despite his uncertainty, it hardened further, changed more. He shuddered, feeling Ikaris' legs part as well, knees hugging his flanks, feeling the odd sensation of flesh swelling against his back... slits? That was why he'd seen no malenesses bared before.

And it meant Ikaris was getting aroused by *him*, as was the kobold in front of him, baring himself lewdly... the kobold who abruptly leaned up and gave Akarth a quick lick on the tip of his muzzle. It struck Akarth as a gesture of intimacy, a promise of more to come...

A definite promise, he thought, as the kobold grinned slyly, and carefully inserted a finger between the swelling lips of the maleslit between his legs, toeclaw still teasing the head of Akarth's shaft. "Not seen a kobold like you 'fore... and you look good, so..." the kobold gave a slight shiver as if in delight. "...so big!"

Ikaris gave a chuckle at his comrade's excitement, and the kobold felt larger against Akarth's back now; he was still changing. "Do as you wish, Akarth... but it seems only fitting that we give you some... *benefits*... to compensate for the lack of private quarters, right brothers?"

There was a low hiss of laughter.

Akarth felt himself being lifted up and pressed against the edge of the bath as the kobolds crowded around him. One flipped a large, laminated lever near the edge of the bath, and a flood of fresh hot spring water began to pour in from the cistern linked to the main stream. As steamy, hot, cleansing water sprayed over his scales and whorled around his still-shrinking body, Akarth felt his coat of scales grow down his legs and feet. He couldn't see what was happening underneath the smoky water, but he could feel the same tight, hugging feeling of skin hardening into scales. His toenails began to grow with a stiff stretching feeling, until he could feel them scratch against the rough-hewn floor of the bathing pool, and then against another set of claws...

Blinking steam away from his eyes, Akarth saw another sand-colored kobold had snuck between his legs under the water like a lurking crocodile, taking Ikaris' claws and pulling them away from his misshapen, partially human member. The kobold leaned forward and began to examine his transforming cock with discerning, inquisitive eyes, before leaning forward and giving it a slow, tentative lick. The kobold looked up expectantly for a moment's pause, but Akarth's attention was rapidly directed elsewhere as he was given a firm shove forward, falling muzzle-first against the kobold sitting on the edge of the bath. He felt the small creature's tail squirming underneath his face- which, oddly enough, was far more forward and stretching even further with the strangest pulling feeling- but he could also feel the warmth and heat from the draconic kobold's freshly cleaned thighscales and slit...

"Mmm..." the kobold moaned, wrapping his thighs around the back of Akarth's head and holding it in place.

But before he could even properly register *that*, a clawed finger dipped in something slick- possibly the scale-cleaning soap they'd been scrubbing with earlier- suddenly pressed underneath Akarth's tailstub and into his asshole. His tailbone suddenly shot up and out of the water as a jolt of shock ran though his body; Akarth felt it reflexively arch upwards as his changing body instinctively presented his tail-hole to the male behind him. Everything was happening *fast*, and yet something deep down in the changing human's belly told him that the maddening press of hot scales and jutting cockflesh was utterly natural to the social kobolds...

He felt confused by the speed and diversity of events around him, happening *to* him, but as his changes continued, as the kobolds around him seemed to grow - relatively, at least - their presence in his mind also seemed to grow, overwhelming his senses, filling his awareness to the brim.

Ikaris continued to prod him under his stubby tail, in an intimate place he'd barely considered sexual in any way before... and he felt an instinctive, socially-instilled revulsion rise for a moment. A male kobold licking his shaft, he felt he could take in his stride... just about. Being embraced intimately by another male, he could handle too. But, to be so... exposed, and to... to...

His mind forced the thought to coalesce: to take another male into him like he was a female.

But the instinctive denial wavered even as it formed. It was Ikaris behind him, cunning and powerful and evidently highly experienced, the sorcerer's body still pressed close, the shared heat of scales pressing against his back and sides... and he felt aroused by the thought, his shaft at last hardening fully, the tip narrowing further away from a human shape. Ikaris was... sexy, and powerful, and caring... and he felt more attracted to the kobold male than he had to any woman he'd ever bedded.

His eyes widened as he felt his resolve failing. He didn't really want Ikaris to take him like this; he wanted to stop it, in a way, and keep to less... invasive acts; but another part of him wondered what the rugged, handsome, virile sorcerer's shaft would feel like... even as he hesitated, he knew he'd lost the battle already. He wasn't going to try to stop it happening, either - and, he thought, he might even *like* it.

A strange taste startled him from his momentary introversion, and he realised that unbidden, his tongue had left his muzzle for an instant, and licked along the hot, swelling flesh of the tan-scaled kobold's groin, drawing a slight whimper from the still-markedly-smaller creature holding his head between its legs. Male flavour soaked into his senses, musk and heat and pleasure; and his tongue bridged the gap again, touching a small nub of hot, slick, musky flesh that had started to slowly peek out from the kobold's folds - and he closed his eyes, imagining for a delicious moment it was Ikaris' flesh he was tasting.

Ikaris filled his mind as his body lost another few inches in height, making him merely twice the size of the kobolds around him; his feet seemed to stretch out longer, ever-sharper claws scraping at the stonework as he felt a clawed hand return to rub something slick and cool against his quivering tailhole...

Akarth's tailbone began to rapidly throb as the sorcerer probed his entrance with a pair of slick, clawed fingers, easily pushing the small, scaly digits in before scissoring them around, loosening up the tight muscles that normally protected his body from such intrusions. Each time Ikaris' digits sank into his sensitive entrance, Akarth felt the newly-knitted tail muscles around his rear twitch and leap with instinctual excitement, tugging his short but lengthening tail clear up out of the water with a splash. A grey hand swept around his belly and hugged him tight as the sorcerer prepared to mount him; Akarth felt an urgent twinge of anticipation as the kobold's spear-tipped member pressed against his soapy-slick tailhole and easily pushed the very tip into his body...

Akarth felt powerful, urgent waves of stimulation course through his internalized, scale-coated balls as the kobold's warm, hard, narrow cock drove into him. Ikaris let out a growling, hissing sigh of pleasure- a sultry, appreciative noise that made Akarth's belly warm with pride- but it was broken by a pair of sharp yips. Ikaris suddenly hugged down on Akarth and shoved himself forward, driving his koboldhood in much deeper and further than his initial thrust...

Except, no, something was off; it seemed almost an involuntary thrust. Another set of sandy, lithe legs locked around the front of Akarth's thighs, followed by a pair of arms that clutched his hips firmly. One of the dusky yellow-scaled kobolds was mounting Ikaris behind him, using Akarth's body for additional leverage..!

Things quickly began to spiral past Akarth's ability to control or even understand. A hot, hardening kobold-cock was pushed past his scaly lips and onto his tongue, already oozing salty, bitter pre-cum into his growing muzzle. At the exact same moment, the kobold between his legs began to rub the base of his crimson-red cock, sucking and licking on the thinning head between pawstrokes.

Hot water splashed around him as more kobolds- drawn by their amorous activities no doubt- began to join in from other baths, finding unprotected tail-holes and eager muzzles for their own erections to fill. What little Akarth could see past the thighs, tail and throbbing maleness of the kobold taking his muzzle was beyond words. More new arrivals were congregating behind the male with red erections jutting from their sandy slit-scales, cocks already glistening with musky, masculine fluids... fluids like that which Ikaris, yipping excitedly, was depositing under Akarth's tail with every thrust of the kobold behind him!

Akarth's body was continuing to change, becoming more and more kobold-like by the second. Unlike the plain-looking, sand-colored kobolds around him, his ears and head-crest were quite large and still growing, even as inches of height and pounds of muscle fled from his form. Two faint points of pressure began to build atop his brow as something hard and bony broke through the thin scales there, accompanied by a much larger swelling atop his snout that had yet to break the surface. His tail thickened as his spine bent into proper alignment, forming one smooth, continuous, reptilian curve. Simultaneously, his knees and ankles bent and twisted painlessly into the digitigrade stance of a kobold. Deeper hues of red bled into his scales as they broadened and hardened, turning glossy and gaining a slightly convex shape; almost like a true dragon's...

Akarth wanted to shout, to beg, to give some voice to his raw lust; but his mouth was filling rapidly with kobold-cock, and not just because the shaft was still slipping from the kobold's slit, but because Akarth was still shrinking!

Ikaris' shaft sunk deep into him again, with curiously little pain, the small shaft piercing his larger form with little more than unaccustomed discomfort; but as his body shrank and narrowed further toward koboldlike proportions, it felt as if Ikaris' koboldhood was swelling, growing, spreading him further and penetrating him deeper with each thrust. His tail-hole quivered as it was forced to stretch wider around Ikaris' throbbing maleness, slowly increasing the strange pleasure that being mounted gave him.

His faint reluctance was evaporating rapidly; he loved the feel of Ikaris in him, and felt a dirty thrill to think back to the strikingly attractive figure he'd been smoking calmly with over dinner, when he had no idea what was in store for him. Even minutes ago he'd not known how wonderful being filled like this could be, every orifice in use even while another kobold suckled on the tip of his kobold-shaft like a straw.

He could feel the sexuality in the air around him, and to his surprise he felt a strong sense that something was out of place; the kobold sucking on him was denied a partner in the throng, due to the shield of Akarth's shrinking form at the centre of it all... but Akarth had a free hand, so why not help a fellow kobold out?

The thought passed him by without realisation as he slurped noisily on the shaft that filled his muzzle, male juices spilling from the whimpering kobold above him who stroked his crest and earfins with fascination Focusing on the hand that wasn't necessary for his balance, he felt around under the water, feeling carefully along the back and belly of the kobold beneath him. He felt a tail curling over his shoulder and felt the small body tense, as his growing claws traced a line along the tapered koboldhood of the other male; he curled his fingers around it, and gave it a slow stroke, feeling the overstimulated organ give out a spurt of precum that coated his hand - and gave him an idea, as he reached back along the kobold's body with the pre-slickened claw, and carefully probed the kobold's own tailhole. Being filled made him feel so good... why not share that, too?

The slight, pleasured moan and the increased pace of the claw and muzzle on his cock was all the feedback he needed; something clicked in his head, he felt *right*, and he moaned as he sank a digit into the kobold below him, even as the grip of the legs around his head tightened, the kobold above him giving an incoherent whimper as his pleasure rose further.

Akarth was unusually tall for a kobold, but he could probably pass for one now... a large, unusually well-built one, but a kobold nonetheless.

And he loved it.

As if catalysed by his newfound acceptance, claws began to push through his fingers in powerful throbs of released tension, growing quickly to their full size. The scaly bulge sitting atop his snout broke apart into a black horn that glistened with colorless fluid, to the surprise- but also appreciation- of the kobold sitting in front of him. Akarth sucked on the rapidly throbbing koboldhood, when suddenly a flood of hot, slightly bitter, strongly-salty cum began to spurt against the roof of his mouth and tongue. The kobold he was joyously sucking let out a series of rapid-fire yips as he loosed his seed...

The bathing area was rapidly descending into a carnal but intimate orgy. Behind Akarth, Ikaris was mounting him in slow but powerful and increasingly-filling thrusts, dragging his body as well as the kobold behind him through the bathwater. Akarth was nearly going mad from the slow but incredibly pleasurable thrusts, each one sending waves of knee-weakening, tail-tensing arousal through his tailpassage and into his entire sex, from his painfully-taut, slightly too-full testicles all the way to the tip of his cock, now being firmly suckled by the kobold between his legs.

On the dry stone in front of him, Akarth could make out a pair of kobolds mounting a third from underneath his tail, pressed together slit-to-slit to fit both of their koboldhoods into their partner's tail-hole. From beyond his peripheral vision more kobolds had crowded in around- his earfins perked as he heard their yips, growls and scale-on-cockflesh stroking- and then Akarth felt a warm, sticky rain of cum land across his snout and earfins, saturating his scales with rich, pure male-musk. Ikaris pressed against his neck and began to bite the thick scales over and over again, thrusting shallowly with his tensing maleness. Akarth tensed, realizing his bowels were about to be filled with another male's seed, Ikaris' seed, and he *desired* it so much...

Akarth felt Ikaris surrounding him, surprisingly powerful arms surrounding his smaller, lither body, now the same size as the sorcerer. He sucked eagerly on the koboldhood dribbling the last trickles of seed in his maw, feeling so intensely aroused by the yips and yaps and grunts and moans of the kobolds around him, by the erotic shivering of the kobold whose seed he happily swallowed... he couldn't ever imagine having so intense a sexual experience, never imagined that drinking a male's seed could be so erotic an act.

He was surrounded by a frenzied orgy on all sides, drenched in cum and musk and taste and scent and sensation, and he wished that all of it was Ikaris. He was astounded at the depth of lust he felt, and how much it focused on the sorcerer; he loved the intimacy of his fellow kobolds, but Ikaris had something special, something that excited and enticed him. Was it because Ikaris had that spark of real magic, something Akarth had been in some way pursuing his whole life? Or was it because it was Ikaris who had brought him here and taught him of this joy?

He didn't even know the other kobolds' names, he realised.

He gasped for air, letting the shaft slip from his maw as he gently probed the tailhole of the kobold sucking his shaft, which fitted nearly perfectly into the muzzle now; Ikaris' shaft prodded intently deep inside him, the alien pleasure of submitting to the other male filling him so full he felt like he could burst.

He *should* have cum by now, he thought; the pressure in his balls was so great it felt almost painful, like all the sexual fluids of his larger human self had simply been condensed and compressed into his smaller form rather than simply dissipating the way most of his mass had. He squirmed and writhed, pushing himself back to meet Ikaris' thrusts, and humping the muzzle of the other kobold in the same motion.

"Yes... yes!" he whimpered, not caring who could hear. "Fill me... seed me, mark me, take me, make me yours!" he said, wanting to be a part of this, yearning to experience all this again, the closeness, the comradeship, the bond he could feel amongst all those here... he wanted to be a part of it, and he wanted to be special, wanted to be Ikaris' precious, exotic pet.

Akarth's lust began to twist and contort, away from simply desiring pleasure for himself. The thought of allowing another male into his body at all had been anathema only minutes ago... but now the thought of Ikaris coming into the bath-cave after a hard day's labours, trading with irritating humans or elves or dwarves or researching difficult magical spells... stripping down to his bare scales... of Akarth grinning and dropping to all fours on the hard stone in front of the roomful of kobolds, and raising his tail so that Ikaris could sate himself... of starting their play, sucking and being sucked and musky cum filling the room because of him...

His eyes widened and he gave a curiously strangled cry as he felt his balls tense up; and instant later his shaft exploded with cum, much to the surprise of the kobold sucking it! He felt momentarily guilty for not giving his new compatriot more warning, but there was no way he could stop, no more than he could have grown wings and flown.

His voice caught on something in his throat, and to his surprise - and the surprise of several of the assembled kobolds - his whimper turned to a loud yip, which deepened into a rumbling roar that shook the chamber, like a true dragon was amongst them!

The amulet strapped across his neck surged with electric power and flashed, before a blinding light swept over Akarth's eyes and its unnatural weight and presence vanished. His entire body tensed rapidly, completely out of his control as Ikaris came, flooding his tailpassage with seed while magic suffused his soul. Akarth continued to let out choked yips of pure, sexual joy as he was roughly mated and seeded, sticky warmth shooting up his snugly-filled ass.

The feel of the grey kobold possessively hugging his chest and thrusting into his tailhole- combined with the building storm of magical power inside his bones- was too much to bear. Akarth's overfilled, throbbing balls clenched tight again and he loosed another climax over the muzzle and snout of the surprised kobold under him, forcing the poor creature to close his eyes as white-tinged draconic semen covered his face and leaked from his lips. But more pointed muzzles and hungry tongues crowded in to lick his spurting cocktip, filling in where their comrade had faltered...

Akarth almost wondered why they were all so eager for *his* seed when there was so much around them all, but he had no time or energy to complete the thought as Ikaris rode his orgasm down, while a peculiar feeling built in Akarth's chest...

He had thought his changes complete, but even though the Amulet's implacable hold on his soul broke his bones were still throbbing with magic. The top of his tail began to swell into narrow ridges, and his legs and arms lost another few inches to the building storm of power. The mass moved through his body slowly- like a river of molten slag- until it settled onto his upper back. The weight was unbearably hot, begging for release; it was an urge Akarth didn't understand, but couldn't help but give in to...

Muscle and scale distended behind him, as Ikaris continued to slowly deposit the rest of his seed inside his hole, no longer holding him tight but tentatively, as if concerned. Akarth felt another one of his sex-stimulated yips morph into a rolling growl as the magical fire built in his back, until his shoulderblades and upper body swelled and bulged outward. A wet, ripping, incredibly relieving feeling pulled the left bulge away from his back- and then right- with a spray of water, suds and kobold cum. A moment later the small, nascent appendages fluttered and grew in earnest. Akarth heard hushed gasps echo through the pleasured yips and growls as the strange new limbs grew into his back, and he somewhat-belatedly realized that they were *wings*...

Slowly, Ikaris pulled his shaft out from Akarth's tailhole with a grunt of effort, leaving the orifice feeling pleasantly warm, sticky and full of seed underneath the hot bathwater, kept locked inside his body by his tight, leathery, waterproof ring. Amid the ongoing chaos of the kobold orgy, momentarily paused by his deep roar, curious hands roamed over his growing chest-muscles and lengthening tail, while Ikaris held him by the waist and spun him around. Wonderment danced in the sorcerer's good eye as he stared at Akarth, muzzle open in unabashed surprise... and no small amount of happiness.

"Well... it... it seems I spoke too soon..." Ikaris said, considering his words slowly. "Half-dragon..." he continued dragging his claws over the edge of Akarth's left wing, tenderly rubbing the slick membrane between two claws before grinning broadly.

The kobold licked his lips once and then pressed forward, kissing Akarth full on his muzzle and then passionately licking leftover cum off the former human's tongue. Inside his muzzle, Akarth felt the sorcerer's tongue lick over his own tongue, and then between the tines of his slightly-forked appendage, before the grey kobold withdrew and hugged him close and tight.

Ikaris looked almost hypnotized as the kiss broke, a thin tail of saliva and cum linking their muzzles until he spoke. "You... you're so... beautiful..." he whispered above the choppy water and lust-struck kobolds pressed around them, before suddenly turning around, lifting up his shorter grey tail and spreading his legs wide, revealing his grey, seed-smeared pucker.

Ikaris turned his head to the side and yipped invitingly to Akarth, casting a glare at a kobold who tried lining up behind him first; it seemed it was a rare rebuke, to judge by the kobold's surprised confusion!

Akarth felt power flow through him as he watched Ikaris swishing his long tail back and forth, crimson-red cock hanging hard between his legs again already. The sorcerer's shaft leaked a steady stream of pre-fluids into the musky water under him as he waited expectantly to be mounted, while next to the sorcerer two other pairs of males were already taking each other in the same position... and somehow Akarth felt his sexual itch barely scratched yet, despite his double-orgasm already! His body felt unusual as he stood unsteadily, his tailhole clenching with the memory of being filled, and he felt... sexy. Powerful. Draconic...

Dominant.

Seeing Ikaris presenting himself caused his cock to throb, and he grasped it with claws that were sharper, sleeker than the other kobolds', giving it a stroke, spreading his own seed across the pointed head as lubricant. Some new force seemed to trigger deep inside him... maybe, fun though it would be sometimes to drop to all fours and let Ikaris take him on a whim, maybe he'd prefer tackling the naked, surprised sorcerer to the ground, and taking his tail roughly, working out the tension in an entirely different way... a way that appealed to the side of him that was, increasingly, dragon. There was more than one way to give pleasure...

He stepped over to Ikaris, and ran a claw delicately along the sorcerer's grey-skinned flanks. He could taste more than musk in the air, he could *feel* the magic radiating from Ikaris, too; his mind and body felt energised in a strange way, a way he'd never felt before... and he knew the amulet had done its job. He was empowered; better than he had been. He might not be sexy to humans, but what did that matter? He had a body that made the most powerful sorcerer in the clan raise his tail for him! And, he thought, he now had *potential*. Maybe he could learn a bit of magic himself now...

To think he'd intended to just sell the amulet to some anonymous mage!

His changes weren't quite complete; he felt his shrunken muscles swelling back beyond kobold with a power that even in his human form he'd not known, the draconic blood surging through him and enhancing strength as well as mind. He licked his lips; so, the tricky little sorcerer thought he could out-negotiate Akarth, eh? He'd see about that...

Without a word, he grabbed Ikaris by the hips, spun him around onto his back, and propped him against a sloping edge of the bath, leaving the surprised sorcerer's legs and tail in the water but his leaking tailhole just out, in the air; he spread Ikaris' legs roughly.

"You want this? Huh?" he said, licking the tip of Ikaris' muzzle and flexing his wings, stretching the brand-new muscles instinctively, making the powerful limbs pop and crack as they flexed into shape. Then he gave a grin, rubbing his thicker, fatter shaft against the sorcerer's leaking tailhole, seeing how a small rivulet of preseed-tinged cum flowed out from it and merged with the juices plastered to the sorcerer's backside.

"...beg for it..." he said, leaning low over his future conquest, and giving Ikaris' koboldhood a long, slow stroke. Akarth could feel a familiar prickling as his shaft started to change again... and he hoped Ikaris would hurry, he wanted to feel his cock shift while he was buried to the hilt in the sorcerer's gorgeous, lithe body!

Surprised, Ikaris hesitated for several long, pregnant seconds, his crimson-red cock throbbing between his smoke-scaled thighs as his eye flitted back and forth between Akarth's impressive member and his eyes. Akarth blinked and yipped softly as he felt his cock throb and tingle, twisting and deforming between his claws, growing bumpy ridges as it swelled to very un-koboldlike proportions...

Ikaris put his hand on Akarth's draconic erection, stroking it once and then positioning it at his own tailhole. Swallowing his pride and a few droplets of seed, the one-eyed sorcerer leaned forward, his voice a low, insistent growl...

"Take me, dragonblood... gods above, please t-take me..." the grey-scaled kobold said, unabashed in his lust. Of course, how could he be? Even as the words left Ikaris' lips, Akarth felt hands grope his firm, scaly rump and a muzzle start to press against his hole, licking at and the sticky cum left just inside. Above the pool, pairs, twos and threes of kobolds were mounting one another on their bellies, on all fours, or in even stranger positions made possible by their small, flexible bodies.

One kobold in the water next to them was bent nearly ninety degrees to suck their partner's cock while riding the other kobold's maleness; a semi-circle of kobolds outside the bath were masturbating into the wide-open muzzle of a bather, whose muzzle and snout were painted entirely white with virile seed they could hardly lick up fast enough. Amid the hurricane of sex, Akarth felt as though he and Ikaris didn't form much of an eye. The clan was what ultimately mattered, after all; all of their needs were being attended to... but he'd see if he couldn't make his taking of Ikaris into the centrepiece!

Grinning, Akarth turned his attention back to his sorcerer. The rest of the clan would have their turn, oh yes... anything less would be iniquitous. But the grey-scaled sorcerer's begging was so sincere, if unaccustomed, that his draconic *need* for dominance was satisfied - and it was time to satisfy something else about him.

"Your wish is granted..." Akarth rumbled, pushing his shifting shaft into the sorcerer's slick depths, sinking slowly, seed squishing as he slid into the tight tailhole. Each little bump and ridge kissed the seed-stained pucker a moment before sliding wetly inside, making Akarth and Ikaris both shudder in pleasure.

Ikaris' eyes were nearly bulging out of his head by the time Akarth was hilted fully, the half-dragon's shaft still changing slowly, the sorcerer evidently unused to the sensation of being so stretched - but loving it.

Akarth gave a moan as he slid his member out again, and thrust back in, a tiny puff of flame emerging from his lips as he felt something ignite in his chest. He made a mental note to take care with that.

Something was missing, though... the tongue tickling his tailhole did not fulfil the need he felt, not entirely. His thick tail wrapped around the kobold's neck, gently, and pulled him upright, and closer behind him. "You! Your tongue is pleasing, but you have a far better organ to use..." he said, surprising himself with his commanding tone. "...if you please?" he added, trying to correct his unusual boldness.

He felt the tongue withdraw immediately, and seconds later felt the other kobold's shaft press into his tailhole without further warning, the kobold he couldn't even see yipping excitedly. His tailhole was still tight, the stretch satisfying, but now that it was slick with seed and saliva both if felt smoother, if anything better than before. He smiled and sighed as he was filled again; this all felt so *right*.

He pulled Ikaris' legs up, over his shoulders, and leant down low over the sorcerer, thrusting deep and hard, his wider draconic muzzle clamping down on the tip of Ikaris' and licking it, tasting the seed there, before forcing its way inside, squirming in a fierce kiss, while his powerful claw massaged the sorcerer's throbbing, swollen cock.

He could *taste* dragon-musk in the air, and knew it was the scent of his own seed, spilled during his transformation. The scent of dragon was enticing and erotic to him, and seemed to be even more so to the others. The three kobolds who'd lapped at his cock as he came a second time were covered in it, and they were now fucking each other with a desperate frenzy that was quite unlike their compatriots' somewhat more sedate sex acts!

He was giving them pleasure... and he wondered what would happen when he seeded the sexy male below him, marking him as his own. The thought of the calm, sedate sorcerer driven to an intense mating frenzy... pleased him.

He felt the kobold in his tail give a cry of pleasure, and felt hot warmth filling him again, a deep satisfying sensation filling him as the pace of the other kobold's thrusts slowed. Too quick; he wasn't done.

"Hrnnn... more! Another, fill me! More!" he commanded. "You!" he said, his tail pulling the other kobold aside, the other's cock leaving his tailhole with an abrupt squelch. "There is more for you here..." he said, slyly, his claw releasing its grip on Ikaris' shaft as the slightly dazed, tan-coloured kobold was deposited on his knees, his open muzzle inches from Ikaris' koboldhood. "Suck it..." he whispered, his thick tailtip prodding into the kobold's unprotected tailhole, even as another kobold approached from behind Akarth and he felt a fresh cock prodding at his own freshly-used pucker.

He felt like a dragon with his own little harem; his orgasm was rising, his wings flapping involuntarily...

Worshipping his body and taking his commands to heart, more kobolds began to crowd around the half-dragon as though drawn by magic - perhaps they even were.

Hard cocks pressed into his hands to be groped, turgid shafts dragged across his thigh-scales and smeared cum over his wings. The kobold whose tail-hole Akarth's long tail was filling yipped furiously and squirmed, cumming purely from the anal stimulation. But by far the most compelling feelings came from the tailhole of the lithe sorcerer he was pounding into oblivion with his engorged dragon-cock.

Ikaris' entrance was stretched to the very limit around Akarth's throbbing, still-swelling erection. Each thrust made the other male yip and made his tail and legs shake, until Ikaris was writhing on the ground in senseless pleasure, bucking upward into the other's muzzle Akarth had so thoughtfully supplied for his use. The kobold sorcerer was so thoroughly dominated by the thick pole of wyrm-cock buried in his bowels that he stopped responding to Akarth's kisses, baring his neck as his eyes lidded and his crest flattened in submission. Hungrily, Akarth drove his thrusts deeper and harder, biting the sorcerer's soft neckscales as they were presented and holding his eager mate's legs spread wide, drinking in submission like a parched man with a cold beer...

Ikaris began to let out confused, rapid-fire yips as Akarth felt an orgasm surge though his changing member. At the same time as the familiar, oh-so-sweet twinge of sexual climax came upon him, Akarth felt the base of his ridged erection swell up further and further, inflating like a balloon inside the sorcerer's tail-hole...

"O-h-h-hh g-g-g-gods..." Ikaris whispered, his muzzle trembling. He looked nearly senseless with pleasure; and the stimulation was only growing as Akarth forced his member still deeper, instinctively trying to push as far into the smaller dragonkin's body as possible. The sorcerer shivered powerfully and then began to yip once more, flooding the muzzle of the kobold sucking him off with a massive, messy climax, and Akarth felt powerful contractions ripple through his partner's tailhole...

Akarth's wings flapped again twice, stronger and large enough they made waves rush through the bathwater, pushing aside several startled kobolds who'd got too close. He had to seed Ikaris; he had to mark the sorcerer's body, take it, make it his and fill it entirely with his essence. Akarth's testicles still felt over-filled with roiling cum, but the urgency of the moment was something he could savour; he was in control. His knot was firmly stuffed inside the grey-scaled male's hole; he knew, instinctively, for the next few hours, their bodies were one, and Ikaris was *his*. Every twinge of arousal, every powerful climax would serve to fill the sorcerer further and further...

He gave a roar of triumph as Ikaris' clenching tailhole closed around his knot, the sensation delicious, exquisite... and then he felt his balls contract powerfully, falling across the precipice of pleasure as seed started to lance from his engorged dragonhood.

Ikaris' eyes rolled back, gasping as the liquid heat of dragonseed started to fill him, the lust seemingly spreading through him and suffusing him beyond all capacity for rational thought. The grey kobold startled the reptile suckling his still-spurting cock by forcing his muzzle down further on the shaft, as his orgasm practically re-started, another surge of seed shooting powerfully into the other male's muzzle.

Akarth felt the kobold pounding his own tailhole start to spurt seed deep into his already-well-filled bowels, and his frantic claws were getting quickly covered in yet more cum as, each time a koboldhood belonging to any kobold within reach started to spurt and its owner to yip in pleasure, his clawed hand left to find another shaft not yet being pleasured... other clanmates could ride out the orgasms he started, but he felt the need to *give* to the clan, *share* as widely as possible... and not simply leave it to other kobolds to do, not if he could help it!

What sort of guest would he be otherwise?

Kobold-cum dripped from his wings, down his flanks, off his chest, and off his arms; seed covered Ikaris as he writhed, his belly starting to bulge visibly as dragonseed continued to fill him, his koboldhood still quivering and spurting more each time Akarth's knotted dragonhood thrust into him again, the fat shaft prodding his prostate powerfully and sending him over the edge again and again. The kobold whose muzzle Ikaris had cum into was gasping, breathless, his head lying idly on Ikaris' chest as more cum lanced over both the prone bodies; too exhausted even to lick his lips clean of the seed that dripped from them, unable to do anything but lie there and moan, cutely spreading his tailhole further with both hands as Akarth tailfucked him as mercilessly as he fucked Ikaris.

Akarth's orgasm - his first orgasm as a half-dragon - slowed, his shaft surrounded by the almost burning heat of his own seed in Ikaris' overfilled belly, not a drop leaking out of the sorcerer's well-stuffed hole. Akarth was in heaven; the eye of the perfect storm, just as he'd wanted. Or started wanting, recently.

He knew he'd changed, mentally as well as physically, but he revelled in it, exulted in the awe he inspired. There was so much musk in the air his senses had all but gone dead to it... all as it should be. His only regret was that more of the clan were not here to partake... yet.

Yet.

He wanted more. Not just later tonight, not merely tomorrow...

As the orgy slowly died away, exhausted kobolds dragged themselves into still-clean baths and gave their scales a cursory second washing, while Akarth sat with Ikaris in his lap, licking and kissing the grey-scaled sorcerer. His knot refused to soften for even a second, as every tiny movement either of them made gave the draco-kobold deeply-sensual pleasure. He could feel every delicious inch of Ikaris' body inside and out, as though it was his own. And in a way, it *was* his own, now... and that was how he wanted to keep it.

Once the other, awestruck, slightly envious kobolds had cleaned them up, Akarth was forced to waddle out of the baths holding Ikaris by his rump, tail dangling underneath him. Carrying the smaller kobold while still tied was an exercise in deliciously-pleasured frustration. Every slow step made his cock jostle into the male's prostate, forcing fresh squirts of precum from the thoroughly-exhausted male's shaft. Ikarth's semi-hard koboldhood was a warm, slick, surprisingly comforting presence against Akarth's chest as he the sorcerer collapsed together in one of the communal sleeping rooms, amid a pile of bedding and, quickly afterward, the bodies of many warm, sleeping, scaly males. Other pairs of kobolds were curled together or hugging, but only Ikaris and Akarth slept belly-to-belly, wrapped snug in the draco-kobold's leathery wings.

"I told you... you might want to stay with us..." Ikaris whispered between slow, relaxed kisses, squeezing his tail-muscles playfully around Akarth's dragonhood.

"Oh... I think I could find a way to relocate my operations here..." Akarth smiled. "Though we'd need to 'negotiate'..." He gave a small thrust to emphasise his remark. "...the precise conditions... and you were wrong on one thing... I think I've got the upper hand now..." he said, licking the other male's snout tenderly.

Then he grinned. "And I don't think you need worry about me not having a fair deal over the amulet... I trust you'll agree that I've given you something of extra value to compensate, hmm? And you can take it whenever... you... like..." he said, giving Ikaris a gentle thrust to punctuate the remark, making his meaning clear.

A blush spread over the grey-scaled male's muzzle as for once, words failed him; instead he silently nodded his assent, licking Akarth's long, pointed tongue meekly.

Akarth grinned. Victory was sweet.