"You may call me Khusk," the chieftain responds, letting go of the kobold. "You're clean enough now. Finish up how you will and then follow me to the camp. There is much you can do for us before we make our way to Calin."

The lizardfolk left, water coursing down scarred scales. Quickly the battleskirt is donned once more and Kret is left to her own.

The kobold leans back in the water a bit, floating on her back and pondering her luck. Sure, she's enslaved, for the time being, but she's still heading to Calin. That's where that bard who wronged her and who robbed her left for. If there is anything that can grant her solace, its that she still pushes forward in the right direction, no matter the hardships she faces.

So, she plays the part of the good slave, shambling into simple slave garments and doing everything that was asked of her. Most of the time, she is sent to deliver something to the other side of camp. Other times, she uses her small hands to help tinker with things. The whole time, she is without her magic, and things start to feel like the good old days before her power awakened. She has a place to sleep, food to eat, and the men who raped her thank her for her service. Something in her heart swells at her situation, but then she catches a glimpse of Khusk and she remembers what the chieftain told her in the river.

  "Oi, there!" A half-elf calls out to her, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Boss thought you'd want your things back, well, what things he deigned appropriate, so here." He tosses something at her, and she catches it. In her hands is the magical egg device, stolen from the Mistress at the Muddy Mistress bordello. She frowns as she looks for a pocket to put it in while here.

"Guess you'll have to find some place to stick it, eh? Good luck with that, since you also need to help me carry these boxes."

In an act of defiance, Kret narrows her eyes, opens her mouth wide, and plops the toy right into it. She sticks it inside one of her cheeks and grumbles, picking up the box with her oppressor.

Soon, the boxes are loaded into the cart. The work is tiring, and her arms ache, but she sits on the edge of the cart and observes the rest of the camp as she has the past few days she's been here. It's quite obvious by their busy work that directly attacking even one of the bandits would be sudden death. But one thing they loved was enjoying the spoils of their work. Boisterous orcs crack open casks of ale while pudgy humans chomp down on links of sausage. Banditry is hungry work it seems, and, despite her time here, seeing Khusk pass by rekindles her desire for revenge. Kret is no poisoner, though. It is not a plan she can pull off on her own. For certain, though, Khusk is not among the revelers. Where did she go?

  "Alright then, little lizard," the half-elf says. "This is your ride out of here. Next stop, Vijaya's palace."

So, this is it. Kret scrambles on board and sits in the cart, almost as if nothing happens. As the cart begins its journey, Kret sees the small and unassuming tent off to the side, away from the throng. Perhaps that is a scout's tent, but as the lizard emerges from it, Kret realizes the greatest mistake the bandit leader has made.

She smiles as Khusk emerges, and the bandit leader meets her gaze with that dull expression she is want to give. She thinks she's so tough, turning off herself to her feminine side, hiding behind the mask of masculinity. But Kret already has plans bubbling up from her mind for her. The kobold thinks back on how the elven madame fell into the pool of her own muck. That is a revenge quite ironic, very poetic. Never had the kobold found herself in a position of such power over someone else when she turned someone's desires and devices against themselves. The bard, the bouncer, and now the bandit... each of them are going to face her, one way or another. And anyone else who would cross the kobold's path will one day know the full blow of her calculating mind.

  But, unlike the elf, revenge will not come today. One day, she won't have this collar around her neck, stifling her magic. She'll be able to cast her spells freely, and perhaps new ones that will come to her as her bloodline speaks to her. Yes, indeed, it will be an amazing time, and that's what she has to hold onto.

Khusk approaches the cart and stops them. With a few quick words in a language Kret had never heard before, the Lizardwoman gives a few orders. With a nod, the driver pulls a string and curtains cover the contents, including Kret. Her eyes adjust quickly to the darkness, but soon she is not alone, as Khusk hops into the back with her.

"You've been a nice little kobold, indeed," Khusk says. "I think I'll give you a parting gift."

Kret just pouts, the large egg still stuffed into her mouth. She doesn't want any of the bandits to get ideas, after all.

Khusk grips the kobold's shoulders and leans in, looking at her eye-to-eye, the bandit leader's eyes are quite dull, nearly lifeless.

"Perhaps this will inspire you for when next we meet."

  Kret's attempt to make a confused squeak is thwarted when snout presses against snout and tongue pushes its way into mouth. Kret's whole body shivers at the strange invasion. It's dominant, yet different than before. She fights to keep her own eyes open, but succumbs. Does Khusk believe this will alleviate her sins? Hardly. Kret may be weak now, but once she perseveres, this paltry attempt to placate her wrath will be forgotten!

Khusk's tongue delves into the kobold's mouth, only to rub against the strange smoothness of the egg. The lizardfolk blinks and hooks her tongue around the object, pulling it free from Kret's grasp. With a pop, their mouths disconnect, and the egg clatters to the floor, buzzing upon contact.

Khusk grasps the device between two fingers and holds it up to examine it. "What a strange thing to smuggle. Ever since we won this from you, I had to wonder what it is."

Kret scrambles to her feet, trying to grab the object away from the lizard's grasp, but Khusk presses a hand to her head, letting her flail around with no hope of success. 

"You won't tell me? That's sad."

"It's personal," She screams, scratching for it. "I conquered someone for it. It's mine by right."

"Oh, so this is a trophy of yours," Khusk says. "Then you won't mind if I ask what it's used for."

Kret growls, her hands upon the lizard's arms, claws digging into her scales. "It's for pleasure! You happy now?"

Khusk looks to it, rolling it through her fingers, and then yanks Kret toward her.

  The kobold falls over the lizard's lap, and a firm elbow pressed to her back keeps the little kobold from moving. "A device for pleasure?"

Khusk repeates. "How intriguing. Let's see how this works, then."

With that, Khusk pushes the item up against Kret's slit, rubbing the egg along it. "Look how weak you must be," Khusk says, "needing a device to bring you pleasure.

Kret's lips quivered under the ministrations, but she keeps her mouth shut to avoid making any sound.

Khusk tosses the egg aside, letting it roll in between the crates. "No. I am man enough to not need such things."

With that declaration, Khusk inserts three fingers inside of Kret. The scaled things burrow into her, stretching her.

The kobold hisses, stretching out over the lizard's lap, but unable to escape. The fingers pump into her, filling her up in a matter quite unlike the bard or the egg. She hisses and thrashes, but it avails her not, as Khusk plumbs her depths until the bandit chief is good and done.

With a plop, the lizard's hands pull free from Kret, leaving the kobold some temporary relief. But it isn't for long, as the bandit pulls the small female up by the hips until her sex is firmly in front of the lizard's face.

  Khusk's tongue rolls out from within, brushing over Kret's slit. The kobold falls limp, feeling the muscle work its way over her sex and inside.

Dangling in the grasp of the bandit chief, Kret finds herself face-to-face with Khusk's battle skirt. Feeling the tongue probe deep within her, the kobold cannot help but twitch and squeak as the warmth from their connection tingles up through her body. So, she places her hands against the lizard's stomach, a soft grunt coming from Khusk as hands brush over the wound she had made earlier.

Kret's fingers move down towards Khusk's skirt, dipping in underneath. Suddenly, the kobold flies against the cart, tumbling aside and hitting the back. Khusk stands tall, looking down at her with narrowed, seemingly empty eyes.

"Who gave you permission to touch me there?" she snarls. 

Kret pushes herself up, trying to get the daze to come out of her senses. "I thought you'd want to have some fun, too, mistress."

A fire burns in the lizard's eyes at those words and she grabs Kret by the throat, squeezing her collar and lifting the kobold up with prodigious strength. "Never," the lizard snarls, "refer to me like that. I am no one's mistress. I am no one's bitch. I am no one's woman. I am Khusk, and I am a powerful warrior, do you understand?"

  Kret grabs onto the lizard's wrists, pushing herself up to keep herself from getting choked. She coughs out a quick response. "I am Kret. I am no one's slave. And, I never forget."

Khusk narrows her eyes and lets go, dropping Kret to the floor once more. "That is the spirit I admire in you, little one. Do well against Vijaya, and we will have much more to discuss in the future."

She rubs her neck, the collar around it slightly bent out of shape from the lizard's rage. She'll have to remember that when they meet again. "There won't be much to discuss," Kret admits. "Next time I plan to meet you, I'll be free of these chains, and I'll give to you everything you've given to me, with interest."

A smile cracks on Khusk's mouth. "Well, Kret, I would love to see that. If you rise from a lowly slave and become a true warrior, I will gladly meet you in that field."

"Crazy bitch," Kret muttres, trying to adjust the collar.

A growl emerges from Khusk, but the driver calls out. "Boss, we're approaching the trade off."

"Ha, your fortune avails you, sharp-tongue. We shall see you again, if you survive."

  "It's... It's a date," Kret spits.

With one last grunt, Khusk pulls the curtain away, stepping out of the cart. 

Kret shields her eyes, because the land beyond is a gleaming walled metropolis, filled with towering sky buildings reflecting the potent sun.

Before she can get herself up, the poor kobold is pulled once again from the kart by large and strong arms. So blinding is the city that she cannot see who it is that holds her or who speaks.

"Ah, yes. This most certainly is not the kobold we seek. Yet he'll do just nicely for the master's entertainment, I'm sure." "She," hisses the familiar voice of Khusk.

"Excuse me?"

"Kret is female. She will do just nicely for your master's entertainment."

"Ah, well, either way, they all end up in the same place once the master is done--in the pit with Aelis.