"Thank you," Rebat said, bowing. "The spirits are tricksters, and they would not make my journey end before I search. For that I bless them." He bowed again, but it seemed like he was bowing towards something nobody else can see. "I return home, then, to Xigyll. The emperor shall hear of our talks, and make his decision. Perhaps you would be kind enough to allow me a portal?" The dracon magics were abundant and strong, that Rebat could see in his career as a general. Where the kobolds were strapped enough for healers, the dracons always employed a host of magic workers in their armies.
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"Where has he gone!?" Rughoi shouted. The guard jumped, his teeth chattering in sheer terror. Rughoi was a giant of a kobold, which nobody forgot when he was mad.

"I don't know, Your Might!" the guard squeaked, his armor rattling as he trembled. "He was inside the castle, and now he's gone!"

"Thousand curses," Rughoi muttered. "Be on your way." The guard nodded, and picked up his spear, rattling his way down the hall. Rughoi looked around in anger. Kutur was not the kind to abandon his duties. Something must have compelled him to leave, but what? Dracon kidnapping? Are they so desperate to spy on his empire that they would strike with their magic, especially now? Ardasa called him paranoid, but he knew who the enemies were. With Rebat away on a diplomatic mission . . .

Worry was never Rughoi's friend. Worry chased him up and down the meeting chambers, across his own bed, never leaving his side. There was no end to it. He could only pray to the three for his own safety, a safety he cannot even ensure himself anymore. He roared, and tore down a banner from the wall. He hated to worry.