The sun and moon careened through the sky, only gradually settling into a semblance of a cycle after a few dozen years. All the magical creatures lost their powers. Hippogriffs could no longer use pearls to switch forms and were stuck as hippogriffs or hippocampi. The dragons languished. Yaks could no longer smash. Buffalo no longer stampeded. And then the tower fell…
—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”
“Where are all the kobolds?”
“You know I haven’t seen any all day or yesterday.”
For two days the kobolds of Dragonholme had vanished. Dragon thirsts went unquenched, and they had to sort through their hordes for their own dinners.
It was simply primitive.
—
At noon on the third day Doriz made her way to the High Hall of the Dragon Council to address the Dragon Lord.
Doriz had done some thinking. She wore her full regalia of office, robes with a cape and a tall wide brimmed and conical hat and strode boldly up to the giant dragon. “Dragon Lord Scorcher, Hope Untarnished requests aid.”
“Who, wait, what?” Said scorch, focusing on the small lizard.
“Hope for An Untarnished Future requests aid.” amplified Doriz without clarification.
“Doriz, is that All-Watcher Tarnish’s full name?” Scorcher asked, perplexed.
She nodded. Whatever was going on with this kobold?!?
“What sort of aid?”
“Strong dragons to haul carts of stone to swiftly complete the passage beneath the shield.”
“Wait, wait, what?”
“We have laid fifty lengths of mine cart track. We need another five thousand four hundred and fifty. We must remove spoil and over rock. Only dragons are strong enough to move the tonnage required swiftly. Gems and treasure will be provided for the dragon haulers. Tarnish estimates he can complete the work in thirty to thirty-six days, but the passage will be passable in slightly more than half of that time.”
It was more words than Scorcher had ever heard from a kobold - bar the one time when Rizi had repeated his message to the equestrians back to him.
“Doriz, what has changed?”
“Your wishes are my commands, my lord.” The green dragonette like kobold said with some heat in her voice.
“And your speech?”
“I have decided that any requests any dragon makes to me or statements in a questioning tone are in fact requests, orders if you will for me to explain to you at length and in complete detail anything you might wish to know. The geas the Fae doorkeepers put on the kobold race to only speak in sevens unless commanded can go to Tartarus sir. I have also decided that clarity is a better choice than servility when communicating with my ‘betters’.” Scorcher blinked at ‘betters’ she had nearly snarled the word…
“Is there more to this Doriz?”
“Yes sir, with all due respect, my baby girl is hurt, she needs my help, and I am a good mother!” She shouted in a huff at the giant dragon five hundred times her weight.
“Yes, you are Doriz. I will send dragons. Where to?”
“The speaking circle, we will direct you… sir.” She spat the eighth word, as if just to prove she could. The Prioress stomped her foot, turned sharply, and marched away, her cloak and cape flapping out behind her thrashing tail.
Scorcher watched her pointy hat depart in wonder.
And so it was that on the third day using minecarts, chains and ropes, Garble, Clump, Dust, Searcher and Scorcher himself, along with another dozen dragons found themselves reduced to the world's largest pack beasts as they hauled tens and then hundreds and then thousands and then tens of thousands of cubic kilo lengths of rock from a mountainside.