A Kaper of Kobolds

Strix and Squirt stood at the entrance of their cavern at the base of the Tengar Hills, the misshapen clay jugs they used as an alarm hanging a foot over their heads. The once narrow forest trail, now beaten by armored feet and burned by torches, stretched wide before them. Their red scales glinted in the morning light. Kobolds, as everyone knew, weren’t the most imposing of creatures. These scaly dragon-kin stood about the height of a ten-year-old child and had twice the squishiness with beady eyes and brains that kept them alive but little more. The clan’s leader, Old Bag, described them as being not the strongest, not the fastest, and not the smarted; they were, however, the least-deadest of the clan after the Big People who called themselves “adventurers,” raided their cave and stole their most sacred artifact, the Light of Divine Guidance. Old Bag consulted the bones and learned that a Human named Farmer Greyson had hired these “adventurers” to steal the Light from the Tengar Bag Kobolds and bring it to his farm.

"Alright, Squirt," Strix said in his squeaky voice, his scaly snout scrunched up in what he hoped looked like an expression of determination as he sniffed the spring air. "Light Thingy is just over there… or there… maybe there. Definitely there. Yes." He pointed vaguely in various directions until the faint trails of smoke and the smell of roasting meat suggested the direction of cooking fires.

Squirt picked his ear with the sharpened rock serving as the point of his spear. “I dunno, Strix. That a long way to go.” He kicked a small rock at the base of the entrance. “What if Big People won’t give it back? You know, they might like it there.”

“Like it? Fine where it is?” Strix flailed his arms, which made the makeshift armor of leather straps and randomly placed metal plates rattle. “Big Persons stole it from Tengar Bag Kobolds. We not be Tuckers, but Big People will poop their caves with fear of us too! Besides, Light is shiny. You like shiny.”

Squirt’s eyes lit up. "Shiny?"

“Yeah, shiny!” Strix nodded and then puffed up his tiny chest. “Come! We complete mission we promised Old Bag we’d do.”

Squirt hissed a sigh, fiddling with the sharpened rock serving as a spear point. “Fine. But crossing big river will be dangerous.”

Strix started down the trail. He waved a dismissive claw. “No worry. Big People make wood floor over river. We walk on that.”

The two Kobolds set out along the forest trail for their grand adventure, their spears slung over their shoulders, they traversed the violence-widened path in the warming spring air. A gentle breeze wafted the earthy, floral scents from the forest into Strix and Squirt’s nostrils. A sparrow tweeted as it flew overhead. A white-horned stag bounded through the underbrush.

As they neared the forest’s edge, the burbling whoosh of the Gorbel River filled their ears. Beyond the Gorbel, the Big People lived in their caves of wood, stone, and thatch. Soon, the two Kobolds stood before the banks of the loud, swift river. The broken remains of a wooden bridge littered the dirt on the river bank.

“Where this wood floor?” Squirt asked.

Strix narrowed his eyes and scrunched his snout. He pointed. “Was there. Not there now.”

Squirt poked at the water with his spear. “Water wet. Run fast. You know how swim?”

“Of course I swim!” Strix glared at his clansman and puffed his chest in indignation. A puffed chest made him look confident, even if he was one of the scrawniest of the clan. “We like dragons. Dragons lizards. Lizards swim.”

“Then why I never see you swim?”

“I, uh, well… I no like swimming in public. Others get mad they not me, think I steal women attention with skill.”

“Then why no one has your eggs?” Squirt watched as the river wrested his spear from him. It floated downstream at an alarming rate. “Don’t like this. Not good.”

Strix followed the spear’s path and narrowed his eyes. "We need plan. Smart plan."

“But Old Bag not here. Where smart plan grow?” Squirt tilted his head, his eyes blank and empty. Strix slapped the back of Squirt’s head. Squirt added, “Ouch!”

Strix pointed to his head. “Smart plans grow in brain. I got big enough brain grow smart plan.”

He scanned the area, thinking fast. “Okay, smart plan. Uh… we find log! Yes, log. We push log into water and ride across.”

Squirt scratched his head. “Logs big. Heavy. Sink in water. Plan dumb.”

“You dumb. Plan smart. Logs made of floaty wood. Come!” Strix scurried into the underbrush at the edge of the forest. Squirt trailed behind him, muttering something about heavy things sinking in water.

They found a log, respectable enough by Kobold standards, which, of course, meant it was small enough for the pair to manage but large enough to not be classified as a stick. Together, they pushed the log from the forest to the river bank and then into the river. They hopped on, each clinging to the log with all four of their claws.

As the log sped downstream, Squirt looked up at Strix and said, “What now?” He pointed first to the south and then to the east, saying, “Water go this way. Farm that way.”

“Not know!” Strix shouted. His plan only had one step, log, and he had considered neither the direction nor strength of the current. And then his eyes widened as an idea came to him. “Paddle! Paddle with arms.”

The two Kobolds flailed their arms with wild abandon, digging their hind claws into the bark for stability. Water splashed up and over as the log continued following the current. After minutes of ceaseless and fruitless labor where the water splashed in his eyes, Squirt shouted, “It not working, Strix!”

“More paddle!” Strix shouted over his shoulder.

The pair paddled as fast and as forceful as their scrawny arms could manage, but their efforts had minimal impact on the log’s trajectory. Eventually, the log slammed into a large rock protruding from the river’s depths, sending both Kobolds flying through the air in opposite directions, screaming. Strix landed on the far bank, wet and bruised but alive, while Squirt faceplanted in a mud puddle a few feet downstream.

“Well,” Strix said, dusting himself off after pulling himself to his feet, “could be worse.”

Squirt gurgled from his mud puddle, unable to express his displeasure in words. Instead, he simply lifted his right arm with the middle finger of his claw extended.

Strix patted Squirt on the shoulder. “No time now. Come.”

A short walk from their harrowing encounter with the river, Strix and Squirt stood at the edge of the Greyson Farm. They crawled under the lowest horizontal beam of the wooden fence and ducked behind a large stack of baled hay. The stone and wood frame of the farmhouse loomed before them, its thatched roof offered shade to the farmhands resting by leaning against the wall. Clucking chickens and snuffling pigs guarded the entrance.

Strix squinted as he surveyed the farm. “We sneak in. Quiet.”

Squirt, still picking mud from his ears, shook his head. “Burn Big People cave. They burn ours.”

Strix flicked Squirt on the snout. “Bad. Fire bring all Big People. Only two Kobolds. Dumb plan.”

“Sneaking dumb.” Squirt scratched his head with a muddy talon. “Chickens look mean.”

“They just farm birds. What hurt they do?” Strix dismissed Squirt’s concern with a claw. He puffed out his chest again, but he too eyed the chickens with a hint of concern as one of them, a particularly large chicken with a blood red comb and waddles, strutted around like a veteran palace guard. As this large chicken patrolled the yard, it clucked with the authority of a champion fighter.s

“See?” Squirt whispered, pointing to the large chicken. “That one been in fight and kill.”

“It fine,” Strix said with a hint of concern noted by a lifting lilt in his voice as he pointed to the barn. “We stay low, no talk, sneak into open building over there. Best place to hide Light of Divine Shiny Thingy.”

Strix and Squirt waited until the farmhands dispersed and returned to their labor. They dropped to their soft white underbellies and slither-crawled along the ground, beginning the arduous task of sneaking across the farmyard. They moved in fits and starts, hiding behind random objects like an overturned water bucket, a patch of unusually tall grass, and a barrel full of warm, yellow water.

The farmhands didn’t notice the pair, but the chickens, however, weren’t so easily fooled.

Each in their turn, the birds began clucking, creating a loud, dissonant symphony, as they pecked at the ground, advancing in the Kobolds’ direction. The large, crimson-combed chicken led the charge.

Squirt froze. A squeal escaped his lips, but he recovered and slapped his hands over his snout to shut it. His heart thundered in his chest. “They spot us, Strix!”

Strix curled into a fetal ball. “Shh! Stay still. They think Kobolds rocks.”

“Rocks no smell like Kobolds.”

“Maybe chickens think so.”

The chickens closed in, circling the two Kobolds. Their beady eyes locked on the pair. The largest chicken clucked an order, and on her command, the others launched themselves at the Kobolds, scratching and pecking them as they covered their faces with their tiny hands. The Kobolds squealed and screamed.

Without a thought in his head, Strix grabbed the nearest object, a huge sack of grain, and swung it at the largest chicken. He lost control as the sack made contact with the chicken’s head, and flung the sack into the assaulting feathery horde. The sack exploded in a cloud of dust, sending grain and chickens squawking in all directions.

“Run!” Strix yelled.

The two Kobolds scrambled to their feet and dashed for the barn, dodging irate chickens and leaping over pig troughs. Behind them, the crimson-combed chicken unleashed a furious cluck of defiant rage, but, fortunately for Strix and Squirt, it chose not to pursue.

They reached the open barn doors, gasping for breath.

“See?” Strix panted, his tongue hanging from his open mouth as he rested his hands on his knees. “Easy. Only minor cuts.”

Squirt glared at his partner in this endeavor. He shook his head, bruised and bleeding, and one of his pointed teeth fell onto the ground. “Not do that again.”

“Anyway, Light of Divine Shininess Thingy this way. Come.” Strix gestured as he slipped inside the barn.

The barn was larger and more open than any chamber in their cavernous home, likely larger than their home itself. Bales of hay and sacks of feed for the chickens, pigs, cows, and horses lined the wall to their right, and shelves filled with tools, jars with names such as grease and oil, and various farming supplies.

And there, nestled between two lanterns, was the Light of Divine Guidance. Housed in a container of crimson scales shaped like an open lotus flower stood the thick red and gold wax pillar candle with an everlit flame, an enchanted wick designed to never cease burning. As the flickering light danced and reflected off the scales, it was indeed shiny—the shiniest of shinies that either Kobold had ever seen.

“There,” Strix whispered in a reverent tone, his eyes wide with excitement as he pointed to the candle. “Light of Divine Shiny Thingy. We heroes!”

Squirt nodded. The flickering flame transfixed him. “So shiny. Grab and go!”

They scurried to the Light, but it was on a shelf too high for either to reach—even when standing on their tiptoes. Strix climbed on Squirt’s back and, standing on his shoulders, retrieved the stolen artifact. The moment Strix descended from Squirt, a low, menacing grunt echoed from the shadows of the far end of the barn.

The Kobolds froze. Squirt turned to the shadows. His eyes shot wide, and he extended a trembling claw, pointing toward them. “Uh… Strix?”

Strix turned in the direction of Squirt’s talon. He squeaked a gasp as his eyes landed on the biggest, meanest, angriest dire boar either of them had seen. This boar would feed the entire clan for a month, but instead of laying still to become food, it snorted and locked its eyes upon them. A flimsy gate kept the boar from charging, but the farmhands had neglected this task for so long, the boar could break through the fence given the proper motivation.

“Okay,” Strix whispered. “We need all Kobold smarts for this.”

“But we no have them.” Squirt’s voice cracked as he spoke.

Strix ignored him. His eyes darted about the barn. When his gaze landed on a nearby jar labeled grease, a terrible, wonderful, incredibly stupid idea formed in his head.

He pointed to the jar. “We grease big pig!”

Squirt blinked. “What?

“Grease big pig! Make slippy and slidy. Open fence, jump on pig, and run away!”

Hesitant, Squirt shifted on his feet and asked, “You sure? Big pig looks big mad.”

“Exactly!” Strix exclaimed. “That why it work.”

Squirt stared at him. “I may be dumb…”

“You are.”

“But that biggest dumb idea ever.”

Strix lifted a single finger. “So dumb. Must work. See? Smart.”

Squirt shrugged. No better options presented themselves, so he agreed with a reluctant nod. Each Kobold grabbed a jar of grease, climbed onto the fence, and slathered the massive boar with grease. The boar snorted, bucked, and slammed its tusked face and shoulders into the fence, clearly not enjoying the process. But it had yet to attack.

“Okay,” Strix whispered once the boar had been greased to his standard. “Get ready.”

With a flick of his claw, Strix unlocked the gate. It swung open with a loud creak, and the greased boar, free from its confinement, bolted out. Strix and Squirt leaped onto its back, and they slipped and slid from front to back and side to side as the boar bucked and raced from the barn.

The greased boar, screaming in a full panic as two Kobolds grabbed its ears and held on for dear life, as the beast tore across the farmyard at a breakneck pace, heading toward the open fields. The pair shrieked in blended terror and triumph, doing their best to steer the pig with their claws and the spear Strix carried.

“It work!” Strix shouted over the shrieks of the speeding boar. “See, Strix big brain smart!”

Squirt, holding onto the boar’s ear with one hand and to Strix’s belt with the other, wasn’t as certain as his companion. But, as they sped away from the farm, the farmhands unable to catch the speeding boar without rushing to the horses, he shrugged, remembering the Light of Divine Shiny Thingy was safely tucked in his pack. Maybe they weren’t the weakest, slowest, and dumbest Kobolds of the Tengar-Bag Clan.

When the pair returned to their cavernous home, the handful of Kobolds remaining in their clan gathered around to see the surprisingly safe and triumphant return of their most sacred treasure. Old Bag, an elderly Kobold whose scales had grayed and in perpetual possession of a grumpy and disappointed disposition, examined the candle with narrowed, judgmental eyes.

“This… this Light of Divine Guidance.”

Strix puffed up his chest and placed his hands on his hip. He nodded once. “Yep! Biggest shiny of all shinies!”

The elder squinted at him and then shrugged. “Work good enough. You still alive.”

The clan erupted into a cacophony of excited yips and hisses, their tails twitching and claws clapping in an uneven rhythm that echoed through the cavern as they cheered the returning victors. Kobolds scampered around Strix and Squirt, peeking at the Light of Divine Guidance with awe-filled, wide eyes. Some whispered in admiration; others clapped the pair on the backs, praising them for their daring heroism, and others exchanged gleeful glances, already envisioning tales of their kin’s daring feat.

One particularly excitable Kobold leaped onto a rock and proclaimed, "Strix and Squirt, Bringers of Shiny, Heroes of Tengar-Bag!" This declaration fueled the throng’s frenzy, and soon they were lifting the duo onto their scaly shoulders, chanting their names with pride. For the first time in what felt like forever, the small, battered tribe stood tall, believing they might yet reclaim their place in a world dominated by Big Peoples.

As the cheering tribe dispersed, Strix and Squirt exchanged victorious grins.

“So,” Squirt asked, “What next?”

Strix scratched his head for a moment, mulling the possibilities in his mind. “We burn Farmer Greyson farm. Kill bloody chickens.”

“Squirt blinked. “Us leave chickens alone this time.”

Strix tilted his head. “We steal shinies then?”

Squirt smiled. “You grow big brain! I like.”

Strix clapped his arm around Squirt’s shoulders. “Soon, Big People fear us more than Tuckers.”

And with that, the legend of Strix and Squirt, the least strongest, least swiftest, least smartest, and least deadest, and yet most successful Kobolds of the Tengar-Bag Clan continued to grow.