Onyeka of Kobolds
The Drunken Phoenix lived up to its name, filled with the kind of patrons who looked like they'd crawled from the ashes of better days. Onyeka settled onto a worn barstool, her leather armor creaking softly. Her cobra, Zara, coiled loosely around her shoulders like a living collar, tongue flicking at the musty air.
She'd learned long ago that most establishments balked at serving someone with a venomous companion, but the bartender here barely spared Zara a glance. That's why she favored places like this – they asked few questions, just like the Kobolds who'd raised her.
The memory of her adoptive family brought a slight smile to her face as she sipped her ale. The Kobolds might have been simple creatures, more concerned with shiny trinkets than profound wisdom, but they'd shown her more love than the parents who'd abandoned her at their den entrance. They'd taught her to survive, to fight with cunning rather than brute force, and most importantly, to trust her instincts.
Those instincts were buzzing now. Three wizards at a corner table had been watching her since she entered, their whispers carrying just enough for her to catch fragments about "savage upbringing" and "lizard-lover." Her fingers tightened around the bottle of beer clutched in her hand, the ceremonial Peahen feather in her black hair trembling with tension.
Zara sensed her anger, muscles coiling tighter. The snake had been with her for five years, found as a hatchling during one of her wandering jobs. They'd grown to understand each other in ways that went beyond words – something these pompous spellcasters would never comprehend.
"Hey, Kobold-kiss!" One of the wizards called out lecherously, emboldened by drink and stupidity. "Does your snake know any tricks? Because mine does..."
Onyeka took another slow sip of her ale, using the moment to assess the situation as her Kobold kin had taught her. Three opponents, probably who relied too heavily on their magic. The closest one's staff was propped against the wall, out of easy reach. The other two had their hands free, but their robes would slow them down.
"Zara knows several tricks," Onyeka said quietly, standing and turning to face them. "Would you like to see her favorite?"
The lead wizard opened his mouth for a retort, but never got the chance. Onyeka's bottle flew through the air, forcing him to duck. In that same motion, she'd already closed half the distance between them. Zara launched from her shoulders like a bolt of scaled lightning, creating the perfect distraction as she landed on the second wizard's table.
The fight was swift and decisive. Onyeka fought like her Kobold family – all quick strikes and unexpected angles. A chair splintered against her shoulder, but she barely felt it through her leather armor. One wizard went down to a precise strike to the throat, another doubled over after a knee to the stomach. The third managed to grab his staff, but Zara's threatening display broke his concentration before he could cast.
It was over almost before it had begun. Onyeka stood among the groaning wizards, her breathing steady. She reached out her arm, and Zara slithered back to her familiar perch, accepting a gentle stroke along her scales.
The bartender looked at the scene with weary resignation. "They started it," Onyeka said, tossing a few coins on the bar. "But I'll pay for the chair."
As she stepped out into the cool night, she smiled slightly. Her Kobold family might not have taught her fancy magic or proper manners, but they'd given her something better – the confidence to be exactly who she was, and the skills to defend that identity when needed.
Zara flicked her tongue against Onyeka's cheek, and together they headed down the dark street, ready for whatever mischief waited around the next corner. After all, there was always another bar, another job, another chance to prove that family – even a family of simple, wild creatures – was worth fighting for.
Entered by: 0x39A7…c70a and preserved on chain (see transaction)
