Hodekin (Not Moderated Kobold Quest)

[Philomel]

NOTE: This is not the moderated quest for making diplomacy with Hodekin. Please refer to the thread called Diplomacy with Hodekin for that.

Deeps in the bowels of the earth, a dark, scaled man sat curled upon a throne. His face, which was akin to that of a stunted dragon glared out with burning, golden eyes. His skin was a mottled Persian blue, segmented by azure and deepest black. Grey lines of pattern ran over his scales, were they grew down his back, arms, legs and were sprinkled to the end of his long crocodile tail. Humanoid in stature, but reptilian in style he was a truly remarkable example of a kobold; the race over which he was king.

Shadows flowed around him, in this dark cavernous throne room. Little light was needed for the creatures who had long before been chased and banished to the world beneath the world. Just a small fire warmed his cruel-toed feet, and it uplit the two long lines of six and twenty kneeling soldiers before him. All their heads were lowered in respect to the ruler before them, whom they respected above all. Their eyes stared to the floor, roaming amongst the darkness, and still they kept as they waited for his command.

But for now he remained silent, his eyes downcast to the ground, as if waiting for something. The only sound in the room was the gentle click, click of his clawed finger as he tapped on the arm of his gnarled, granite throne. It had little comfort on it, aside from a simple pile of rags that were as much his clothing as his seat. Slowly he breathed, his hardened chest rising with each click and the world extending second by second as apprehension built.

Just what had he summoned them for - the six and twenty generals of his entire army. What was on his mind, this old but strong leader who had many heirs and a dozen wives? Why this silence, why this demand for respect as he tapped continuously - click ... click ... click.

The silence extended, growing like the gradual rise of a pregnant woman's abdomen.

Just what -

"We are going above," the gnarled voice of the kobold king finally spoke; deep and unchanging, a tone that was marvellous to every ear hole in that vicinity. Eyes suddenly lifted from the floor - six and twenty pairs to be precise - that affixed on their ultimate lord. No words, or gasps rang out, only gazes dedicated to obey every word that he said.

"We are going above," he repeated, "To conquer what was long denied to us. To take what is ours. We are going ... to conquer the surface."

And with that, a war began.