Building a Kingdom as a Kobold

The last fragments of Relay's voice clawed through the relay shard on my desk—half scream, half static—then silence. A single high-pitched whine lingered in the air like the world itself was holding its breath.

The crystal pulsed once, dim and uneven, then died.

[Signal Node: Destroyed.]

[Substructure Breach: Confirmed.]

[Population Safety: Compromised.]

Amazing. The system could write an entire dissertation on how doomed we were and still skip the important detail, like where.

Quicktongue was already standing at the table, claws hammering against the wood as she tried to line up six reports at once. She wasn't just anxious—she was shaking. Her tail lashed once, twice, then she pressed it flat to her leg as if forcing it to calm. "The post is gone. No signal return. We don't know if they made it out."

Bitterstack stormed in hard enough to slam the door against the wall, almost burying me under the avalanche of ledgers she carried. She dropped them across the floor, panting. "You know how many kids aren't in the shelters? Too many. And if anyone here tells me 'it's fine, the wall's holding,' I will personally throw you at the wall and let you hold it yourself."

"Noted," I muttered.

She jabbed a claw at Quicktongue's neat stacks of paper like they'd personally insulted her. "We've got names missing from roll call, supply lines half-broken, and rations scattered because someone thought panicked children should carry food packs instead of sitting still like sensible kobolds."

Quicktongue's ears pinned back, but she didn't rise to it. "Better scattered than trampled. Focus on the breach."

"I am focused," Bitterstack snapped. "Focused on making sure we have someone left to feed when this ends."

"Assuming there is an end," Embergleam said flatly from the far wall.

She was pacing in a sharp circle, arms crossed, jaw locked tight. Every time she turned, the ritual flamepost visible through the hut's slit window guttered, as if mimicking her mood. Patches of light flickered across the street, stuttering like dying candles. "If too many routes shift at once, the flame-weave destabilizes. The anchors were never designed to flex this much. If they collapse, so does morale. The whole city will see it failing, and panic will do the monsters' work for them."

Another string of system messages scrolled across my vision, stacking until they blurred into nonsense.

[Local Control Interrupted.]

[Civic Node Loss: Signal.]

[Casualty Forecast: Pending.]

[Pending.]

[Pending.]

I shoved the alerts away and closed my eyes. It didn't help. The phantom lines still burned behind my lids.

Surprised? Not at all. Tired? Bone-deep. Of course, the night wasn't over. It never is.

Quicktongue's voice cracked, and she pressed a paw hard to her temple. "East wall reports they're barely holding. Splitjaw hasn't checked in. The south granary's unsecured. There's fire in the outer market, but no one knows if it's friendly or not. And if the monsters are tunneling—"

"Then our walls don't matter," I finished. I tapped the table with two claws, steady, steady. "So we fight in the streets instead."

Bitterstack laughed once, sharp and humorless. "Hope you weren't planning on sleeping."

"Who sleeps here?" I asked, more to myself than anyone else.

Another tremor rattled the hut. Dust trickled from the rafters, settling across the blueprints Stonealign had left earlier. The whole structure creaked like it resented the weight of too many panicked bodies leaning against its outer walls. Outside, alarms overlapped until the city sounded like it was screaming in chorus.

I rolled my shoulders, reached for the weapon propped against the corner, and slung it across my back. The leather strap bit into my fur, grounding. Familiar.

"Stonealign goes to the inner foundations," I ordered, voice flat. "If the tunnels widen, he's the only one who knows how to keep the rest of us from dropping into a sinkhole."

Quicktongue looked like she wanted to argue but didn't. She scribbled the note instead, her script jagged.

"Bitterstack, you're on shelters. Pull anyone not holding a weapon down into the deepest tunnels. No exceptions. If they resist, drag them."

"Finally," Bitterstack muttered, already stacking ledgers back into her arms. "Something I'm good at."

"Embergleam—"

Her head snapped up, eyes tired and hard.

"Hold the posts together however you have to. If one goes down, make sure the others don't follow. Scare them into staying lit if you must."

Embergleam's laugh was thin, bitter. "I've scared fire before. It listens. Sometimes."

Quicktongue's quill hovered. "And you?"

"Me?" I said, already heading for the door. "I'm going to see what a breach looks like up close."

Bitterstack snorted. "Of course you are."

Quicktongue's ears flicked low. "We can't patch holes faster than they're made. At some point, this becomes—"

"Not my first collapse, Quicktongue," I cut in. "If it comes down, it comes down. But not while I'm sitting in a hut."

The doorframe shuddered again under another tremor. Outside, voices rose, young and raw, punctuated by screams. The air carried the smell of damp dirt and moss—the kind that shouldn't be aboveground at all.

I paused at the threshold, claws flexing against the frame. Tired. Angry. But steady.

Perfect. Just another night.

The air outside was worse than the hut—thick with smoke, too much shouting, the kind of panic that has weight. I shoved through it and nearly tripped over a toppled cart that had spilled grain all the way down the street. Half a dozen kobolds were already trying to scoop it back into sacks even as the ground trembled under them. Priorities. Always the strangest things in a crisis.

"Leave it!" I barked. They froze, eyes wide, then bolted. The cart groaned once more and then folded in on itself as the street buckled beneath it. Tunneling. Close.

Ahead, the market square was a warzone. Stalls overturned, canvas flapping like torn sails. Smoke curled from where a cooking oil barrel had caught, fire hissing against damp air. And in the middle of it, monsters—mossbeasts, four, no, six, no, more as the ground cracked again, claws scrabbling free of dirt and stone. Their eyes glowed dull green, their bodies slick with mud.

A cluster of younger kobolds were cornered between two stalls, clutching broken poles and scraps of wood like weapons. One screamed as a beast lunged, and instinct had me moving before I thought. My blade caught the side of its jaw, sparks flying as it scraped across bone. The beast reeled, and I shoved forward, planting myself between it and the cluster.

"Behind me," I snapped. "Stay low, stay close, and if one of you runs off, I'll drag you back by the tail."

They didn't argue. Good.

Another beast came fast, claws raking, eyes locked on me. I sidestepped, let its momentum carry it into a stall post, then hacked down hard on the back of its neck. It twitched, then stilled. My arms shook, but I didn't let the younger ones see it.

"Boss!" A voice from the left—Little, scrambling over a fallen bench, face smeared with soot, carrying a rock the size of his head. He hurled it at another beast with surprising accuracy. It smacked against its snout, buying a second. The kid grinned like he'd just won a festival game.

"Thought I told you to stay out of this," I muttered, hauling him back by the scruff before claws could find him.

"Thought you'd need me," he shot back, wriggling free. Then he darted forward again, grabbing another younger kobold by the arm and yanking him out of the monster's reach. Reckless. Infuriating. Useful.

The beasts pressed harder, working together, one ramming while another climbed. Smarter every hour. I shoved down the thought and focused. No time for patterns. Just survival.

We fought dirty. I knocked over a spice cart, pepper and ash exploding into the air. The monsters reeled, coughing, and the younger kobolds took the chance to jab with their makeshift weapons. One even scored a hit deep enough to make a beast shriek and tumble back into the crack it came from.

"Don't stop!" I roared. "If they fall, make sure they don't climb back out!"

The ground shook again, nearly toppling me. Cracks split across the square, wide enough to swallow a stall whole. One of the younger kobolds stumbled, sliding toward it. Little lunged, caught his paw, dug his heels in with a growl. I grabbed both by the scruff and yanked them back, the crack snapping shut inches from us.

My lungs burned. My arms ached. But I couldn't show it. They were all watching. If I broke, they'd break.

A chorus of horns cut through the air, not ours. Monsters calling to each other. Responding. That meant more coming. Always more.

I braced myself, looked around. Half the market was rubble, smoke stung my eyes, but the square still held. Kobolds rallied in clusters, some bleeding, all breathing hard. My squad was alive. Little was alive. That had to be enough for now.

I let my blade rest a moment, leaning on it like a staff. "We hold here," I said, voice low but carrying. "Because there's nowhere else." Heads nodded, some fierce, some terrified, but all still standing. That was what mattered.

A flicker of light on the edge of my vision—Embergleam, dragging two others as she staggered into the square. She was carrying a bundle of half-burnt scrolls under one arm and a lantern in the other. "Posts are failing," she rasped. "But not all. Not yet."

"Then hold the ones we've got," I said.

She gave me a look that could have cut stone, then set to work, sketching patterns into the dirt with a trembling claw.

Quicktongue's voice cracked through a shard someone had salvaged, distorted but clear enough: "Multiple breaches. Market not the only one. More than one tunnel open. Can you hear me? Sovereign, respond—" Then static swallowed her again.

The system chose that exact moment to finally act helpful. A single, cold notification glowed above the rubble:

[Warning: Population at Risk. Casualty Forecast Increasing.]

I spat dust, gripped my weapon tighter, and muttered, "Nice of you to catch up."

Then I lifted my head, squared my shoulders, and stepped back into the chaos.

If this was the night Ashring broke, it would do it over my body.